Saurabh's Home

Ram & Ravan

2009-09-25T11:45:00.003+05:30

I am Ram and I am Ravan too
I am good and I am Evil too
I am the two sides of the same coin
I am like this because I am who I am

I am here and I am there
I am now and I was then
I am love and I am hate
I am right and I am wrong

Have forgotten when I was just one
Ever since I have grown up I am both
I want to rediscover myself
But everytime I end up meeting my present self.

Every good deed done makes me meet my Ram
Every act of anger and jealousy is my Ravan
They say kill your Ravan
But how can I? Ram and Ravan are joined always.

Being Ram would not be that exciting!
Nor would be being just Ravan!
It would be life in just one color or no color
Ram and Ravan together are the reality of today

They are together like the Yin and Yang of life
The positive and the negative of life
They are the dark cloud and the silver lining
They are together. They are life!

How can I kill one and let the other live!
I am not God!
I pray this Dusshera Good Balances Evil..
and make our lives worth every moment!

Happy New Year

2008-12-31T12:50:00.002+05:30

Last few days I have been bed-ridden with fever. This has given a lot of time to contemplate and think of various paradigms we all believe in. Biggest of them all is the New Year.

As a kid, I remember asking my grand-father, what would change in the New Year. A man of words and wisdom he tried to explain that in the physical theory of earth’s revolution around the sun. At that moment it somehow quenched my inquisitiveness, but every 31st December, I used to ask this question to myself.

As I grew up, meaning of New Year kept on changing. Whilst in primary and middle school, it meant moving up to a new class. As I grew up, and reached my board exam classes of 10th, and 12th standards, it meant pre-board exams and the ever so life-changing board exams. During engineering and post graduation years it meant University exams and then finally farewell to enter into the big bad world of corporate life and more responsibility. From then on New Years meant an additional holiday. And if by chance, it ended up on a Sunday, then all one could do was to smile wryly and say “Damn!”

So this year as I spend my last few days and hours of the year 2008, in bed, I came back to the question….what would change with New Year 2009…and is it such a big thing?

New Years are meant to be celebrated with wining and dining, with ambitious resolutions thrown in. Some of my colleagues have already started circulating their resolutions over office mail! Now what use would that be of? :-) But what is it so much about New Year that we start sounding resolutions and spend heftily for celebrations.

I asked my doctor yesterday, and she equally perturbed by the question, thought that New Year meant that one grew another year older. I feel that shows the classical glass half full-half empty state of mind. Then came in my sister and brother-in-law, who thought New Year meant more holidays, more fun, and another trip to the mountains. For others in the family, it was just another day. Not finding much answers, I asked myself again....what does the New Year mean to me.

As for me, I am superstitious about New Years day. I purchase a Yearly horoscope book every year on this day. I then spend most part of the 2nd of January reading through it. I don’t go to a chemist or a doctor, as that would mean a bad omen for the entire year. And finally I definitely work on 1st of January as it signifies a good start, which in another sense also means job half done :-)

But the question still looms large. On 1st January will it be a different morning? Will the sun rise from the west or will it be another day of night? For starters as for me there are no resolutions, as one can resolve at any time. But what would 1st January mean that it would fill us with so much joy and happiness, and then wane it down, that next year this time I will again ask this question?

As we know it, it won’t be a different day. It would be just another day. But as I am a die-hard romantic, it will be a fresh start to tackling old demons who troubled us in 2008. It’s a hope that all we set forth to in 2009, will succeed and the sweet taste of success would not cause any diabetes. On a personal front, here is hoping that we will finally move away from ill health to a more fitter self. It would bring in more love and happiness for one and all (said it in a beauty pageant contestants way :-)…..

Ever Thine….
Ever Mine…..
Ever Ours….
Lots of Love…..Happy New Year!!

Being Married - 6 Months Later

2008-11-12T09:05:00.002+05:30

Sometimes, I am a child….
Sometimes… a matured man,
Sometimes… I just want to hide myself or get lost in the wilderness of my dreams,
Sometimes…. I just want to be Me.

I welcome you to my journey through the 6 months of my transformation from being Me to My Wife’s Husband.

1.Earlier I never set foot in the kitchen. Now, I can wash, cut and cook vegetables (see I have even learnt to wash them before eating)

2.I go to the market, look at really snazzy gadgets, and then think - Do I really need this? Where will I keep it in the room? Have I disposed off the earlier ones? I had never ever earlier thought this way. May be, the world is suffering because of me…because I got married. As it is the global melt-down is all sentiment led. No one is buying anything. That was not me 6 months back. I took pride in being the impulsive buyer and hoarding various versions and makes of the same gadget in my room.

3.Now days, I don’t get easily surprised. Most of the stuff seems like Been there…Done that. Everything is just about obvious until she says Guess What….and I squirm Now What? Such is life, but those who are married would understand.

4.We go to museums and watch craft mela’s. Never had this happened in the 30 years of my abode on earth. I was genetically superior, and those of my being are aesthetically challenged. We take pride and show immense appreciation for straight lines rather than intellectual brilliance of someone who had spilt color on a canvas.

5.I used to think florists are meant to sell single roses, only to be used whenever……you know :)….until I met her. Now I have a florist who exists on my chat, and sends a bouquet of exotic flowers at my insistence. Whatever happened to single roses….I don’t know. Do they still sell single roses?

These are some of the instances of my transformation. Another major one is about Me+. Earlier Me was treated as singular. Now it is Us. Singular has now turned plural. It is like Me describes the views of Us. Why don’t people realize the concept of opposition parties?

Having said all this I want to add a caveat. I know, as soon as, I have started this part of the write up, there will be a wry smile on the faces of some of my friends thinking……He is chickening out! Well, to be honest, I am not.

Marriage is all the above and more. I am more complete now. Since marriage, I have grown as a person. Being single has its own charms, but our real growth happens when we start sharing our lives with others. Letting someone into our space, is like giving away a lot. But consider this, by letting someone into our space, we have increased our space. I never understood this concept earlier……now I do!

There is natural to be friction. All of us tend to resist change and dislike adapting. The real test of marriage and the sure shot outcome is that we realize the change….and thus the better solution. A key point here is that life happens when you participate in it.

Having said all this, one would appreciate the importance of Being Married. As they say….you have to be married, since the government cannot be blamed for everything. But as I move ahead, a quote from the movie Jerry Maguire comes to mind…….

I don't have all the answers. In life, to be honest, I failed as much as I have succeeded. But I love my wife. I love my life. And I wish you my kind of success!

Being Married!

2008-07-30T09:41:00.004+05:30

I have never believed in gory flashback sequences. So, to cut the chase, you all need to know that I got married nearly 3 months back!

Life has changed since marriage and however many "Just Married" movies one may watch, it truly is a unique experience. Our courtship was 2 month "long" in which we met only 3 times for not more than 3 hours each. Though we didn't get much time together, we really increased our mobile phone bills with all the Good Mornings, Good Nights, and other "Sweet Nothings" during the day. And for the uninitiated who don't know what people talk about for hours on end in such calls, my answer is "Nothing"! Yes, thats why these are called "Sweet Nothings".

Well, the day we got married, as I was waiting for her on the stage, one of my friends walked up to me and said,"Dude, you still have time.....run!" I didn't reply but just smirked. I was so ready for marriage. Then slowly, she emerged from the room, dressed in red and looking stunning, slowly stepping down the stairs to walk towards me, I really got the chills and realized, "I was getting married!" I turned to this friend in a sudden, and asked, "Do you have a hidden tunnel under the carpet somewhere?" He smiled, a knowing smile, as if he knew it was going to happen and just patted my shoulder as slowly i stooped my head and accepted the garland from her. As I later came to know, she was as scared.

Later, being the nice and charming self that is me, I even offered her to use my shoe rack and my almirah for sometime, till the time her almirah was ready. I soon realized that life was about small happinesses. I celebrate the days when my shoes find their way back on the shoe rack :-)

In the last two months, we have had a good time together. Giving wierd logics for driving home our points. But one has to mention here that none of my logics makes sense once she puts her foot down. So much so for logical reasoning.

But after having cribbed much, it needs to be pointed that I really like my life with her. This is for the seriousness and meaning she has brought back into life. May be cribbing is a part of how much I appreciate the banter we share :-) In a moment of reckoning, I had surmised them in a few brief lines....

I like life.
Its twists and turns.
Its strange and innocous ways
Yet with its good surprises
I like life.

I like it when someone walks in
And makes me want to talk more and more
Share all that has happened in the last so many years
I like it when someone brings a smile Just by their thought
And how perfect it feels to miss them

I like it when that someone goes speechless
On hearing something stupidly romantic
I like it when the reply comes....I don't know what to say :)
And I say..
..say no more

I like it when I find no more words
But want to write so much more
Life's just started for us and there is a long way to go
And am sure its gonna be good, 'cause....
I like life...with you.

Something to Talk About

2007-12-20T15:55:00.001+05:30

I had stopped writing mush stories sometime back and had gone for deeper topics. But I couldn’t resist the temptation for long. Many of my friends also told me to get back to stories. So yesterday while climbing down the stairs, on my way back home, I got this story idea. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did penning it down.

They were standing in front of the tall building that housed their office. Their office was located on the 11th floor of the building. And that day the lift had broken down. So the only way out was to walk up the 11 floors. Pheww....that was a hell lot! Most wouldn't be able to do it. But even of those who would, will be panting like crazy.

They walked towards the stairs and he looked up at the seemingly never ending spiral of stairs. "I look up and feel this is not possible. Then I look at you, and everything seems possible," he said smiling at her.

She blushed. And then quickly regaining her stoic composure looked back at him and said, “Hmmm......you know they say it is better to keep quite while going up stairs. So, shut up!” And then she walked ahead of him and smiled to herself.

He was an act in himself. Slowly he placed a finger on his lips and started to walk behind her. Not saying a word, he just kept his eye on her, knowing fully well that she was smiling to herself too.

After two flights of stairs, she asked without looking back, "How long would we take to reach the office?" He smiled to himself but didn’t reply. His finger was firm on his lips.

She looked back and laughed, "You are such a drama act. Ok, you can speak. But only what is necessary. Got it?"

He nodded his head and removed his finger and said, "We will take as long as we want to." And then he smiled. She knew he was smart and may be that’s why she liked him too. But he hadn't asked her yet. May be he thought they were just friends. But if they were friends, why did he flirt with her so much? She was now confused and slowly walked up.

Sensing a prolonged silence, he asked, "Why are you angry with me?" As if waiting for a chance to speak, she pounced back, "I have all the right to be angry with you. You didn't tell me he was leaving?” She was referring to another colleague who was leaving the company.

"Well, he is like my kid brother, I have to protect him. I thought would tell you everything in time", he answered.

She stopped in her steps. This was enough. She stomped down to where he was, two stairs behind her, and looked deep in his eyes. She was angry. "That’s a bad answer Sir!! If he is your kid, then who am I to you?" she asked.

He was suddenly taken aback. And she too realized what she had said. May be he hadn't got it, you know the way guys are. No, she thought, he would have understood it, he was smart. Damn!!

He raised his face to hers and smiled. In a very soft voice, he said, "I know what you are to me; it’s for you to decide."

As if through the veil of anger a smile escaped her lips. She blushed. He knew, she thought, how to make her go weak in the knees.

"Feeling very romantic, aren't you today? I think its better you shut up and walk quietly. No more talking for you." she said.

And then she started to walk back again. She was happy at herself and what she had heard. May be the tide was turning, but she shouldn't give in easy. So, she thought, its better not to talk till we reach the 11^th floor.

He kept on walking up behind her, but fell back a few paces. His finger was on his lips as he looked at her intently. Suddenly, through the corner of his eye, he saw that the lift was working. She had not seen it. They were on the 6th floor and had 5 more floors to go. He softly slipped through the door without letting her know and entered the lift to go to the 11th floor.

Meanwhile, she was in a world of her own, walking up. A few times she thought of talking to him but didn't. Unaware of him having slipped away she kept on climbing the stairs.

Finally, when she saw the 11th floor marker, she stopped and looked behind. He was not there. She quickly scanned downstairs, not to find him. He had given her a slip again. Suddenly the lift chimed and a few people got in. So he had seen the lift, and didn't tell her. She was now so angry with him. She turned towards her floor, still a few stairs up.

And there he was standing with his hand extended. He did not speak but mouthed an apology in silence. "Am sorry," he said, "I wanted to surprise you, but now realize how difficult it was for you."

She was too tired to fight. She did not take his hand and silently climbed the last few stairs. May be, she thought, I would teach him a lesson tomorrow. He had this habit of making her angry.

As she moved ahead of him on their floor, he suddenly pulled her back. She was taken aback. Surprised! What was he doing? She started to say something, but he held his finger on her lips.

"I have not told you something else too. I like you. You rock my world, like no one has ever done. No one can come close to be in the vicinity of being near to sharing the same space as your thought in my heart."

Tears were flowing down her cheeks. She was happy. He looked at her and smiled, suddenly realizing what had happened. As if caught, he smiled and rubbed his head in nervousness.

She ran her fingers through his hair and said, "Thank God, you said it. I would have died waiting."

He countered her. And then she countered back. This continued for sometime. They were looking so cute together, I thought. I tucked my bow and arrow in, and flapped my wings in happiness and flew away.

After all Cupid never misses although sometimes I have to break down lifts to make stories happen :-)

Being Stupid

2007-12-07T10:34:00.000+05:30

Do we get stupid with age? Or is stupidity a natural and ever present phenomenon which occurs in all of us in varied proportions? Sometimes questions like this make me wonder, is being stupid good, bad or generally stupid? That’s actually a lot many questions to start a discussion on stupidity!

Before I take you forward on this stupefying journey, let us understand what exactly is stupidity or what actions can be termed stupid. As per some definitions stupidity is lack of intelligence or an act committed by someone lacking in intelligence. Being stupid is in itself both a categorization and a state of mind. But that’s not what I call as stupid. Being stupid is a sense of bliss where what you commit or be is simply unexplainable and a logical reasoning would spoil the party.

Sometimes, it so happens, we see someone special and go weak in the knees. A feeling of warmth spreads over and the mind takes a flight of dreams. The love which slowly starts budding always makes one wonder what would it be like to get a little more stupid with her once. You can’t explain such situations with logic as it would take away the fun of it and might invite flack from certain sections of the society.

It is often said that people stop seeing reason in love. Everything seems rosy and it’s autumn throughout the year. Even illogical ideas and ways make sense. There is a happy bliss look on their faces and even the boss screaming at them seems beautiful. These people may sound stupid but they aren’t. They are actually happy and very much in love.

Behaviour which most consider akin to stupidity is most commonly found in the professional sphere. People end up taking targets which are way beyond their teeth for various reasons. They might have been caught unawares in a honey trap (like a CEO calling the sales team for drinks, lauding their efforts, and then taking a public commitment of raised targets) or there is (not in much cases) a self need for doing something which no one has done before. These actions are most often termed stupid in hindsight but if the targets are achieved they become part of the folklore and more people get trapped.

Sometimes whilst involved in serious situations people end up committing acts which in all aspects are illogical and stupid. Once a lawyer, in the thick of argument asked a witness whether the stair-case which went down also came up. The unassuming witness was taken aback and so were all rest present in the court. In another instance an IT support person told me that the office LAN was now up and the network would reach me in 2 hrs. Dumb-founded I said ok and tried looking for another source of help.

Another such situation is while driving when people commit hara-kiri. They drive as if the road was their own and everyone else was trying to beat them. Especially young kids who feel their bikes as an extension of their body and do acts which to some may some amazing acrobatics but to all else as acts of stupidity.

There are people who even on small knick to their vehicles stop the entire traffic just to pick up a fight with others and if the other one is not so well built, to hit them too. One of my friends shouts profound obscenities at anyone who over-takes him while another shoos people away by saying she would tell her daddy. All these acts of stupidity were committed in tough professional situations.

A very important instance when people are said to commit stupidity is shopping. Especially women, when they reach a market or a mall, go berserk. I have seen women run amok when exposed to a big shopping complex. They buy things which might not even be required; for example shoes. Women love shoes like crazy. It seems to me all of them are actually in an unannounced race to own the maximum number of pairs. This is stupid but when you ask a woman and she would ridicule it and call you stupid instead.

Stupidity does not grow with age. It is a mental state in a particular scenario or situation. As in the above examples I have tried to explain, stupidity is not even related to a particular sex. It is omni-present.

There is nothing wrong with stupidity. It is completely normal to be stupid about something or somebody. Major problem is when you are perfect or project yourself to be one. Now that is what I call extremely stupid.

Stupidity comes to us naturally. All of us are stupid in our own little ways. For those whose stupidity is not digestible by a larger set of people are sometimes termed as eccentrics.

I have used the word stupid 29 times in this essay (now 30 times). People might call me stupid, in-fact I may be one. But the fact of the matter is, you read this stupidity. And by now even if don’t update the count of stupid here, you would mentally count it as 34.

Be Stupid……Love Life!!

PS – That’s 35 times J

Random Thoughts

2007-12-02T18:41:00.000+05:30

There is something about happiness
It makes me fearful when its with me
Losing it always only to find later.

All stories strive for happiness.
All stories with a happy ending are incomplete stories.
All stories with a sad ending were once happy stories.

Some come close but fall short.
Others fall too short.
Only very few get there.

But as is the transience of time
None of them end up happy
They are more often sad imitations of happiness there once was.

I often wonder if happiness is real
Or is it a state when sadness ain't there?
Or just another mystic illusion?

Happiness is a difficult virtue to hold on to.
A slippery feeling of contentment
Slipping out as easily as it slipped in

The more firm your grip is
The easier is it for to slip out
Leaving you wondering what happened

Key is to cherish every moment
To spread it around
For it is infectious, and comes back when you are feeling low

So what if all stories with a happy ending are incomplete
They are the beginning of more happy incomplete stories
Happiness is not a destination, but a journey

Enjoy the journey more than the destination
This pursuit I know is a reality
'cause destination was never my destiny

Soul Searching

2007-11-21T10:55:00.001+05:30

It is a part of our distinct romantic selves to go after things or acts which defy logic. Be it cheering for the weaker side in a competition or striving for improvement against all odds, we love it when rules of logic and science are defied. Life after death is such a topic which goes beyond the walls of science to a zone where only belief exists. And my inquisitive nature is now getting translated into an essay.

Someone once said that our bodies are just the clothes the soul wears. The flesh is not the self but just an exterior to the self. It is the carrier which inhabits the world. It carries the soul through its journey of life till death and then further the soul inhabits another flesh. This essay is based on this very premise.

Every living creature from insects and other smaller life forms to humans are made up of 2 basic ingredients. As mentioned above one of them is the flesh and the other is soul or the Jeeva. Most discussions end at the soul, as if it is a black box. Here let us open up the soul for further analysis.

The soul or the Jeeva is made up of 2 major parts. Firstly it comprises of the experiences from past lives. These are the impressions of the previous births that are carried on. These impressions include the virtues and viciousness of the acts done before the current birth and are referred to as Avidya.

Secondly, there are the mind and senses of the current birth. These are honed and improved as we grow up. From childhood to old age, everyday and every action have an impact on them. And in the next birth these append into the Avidya.

Sometimes we have premonitions or prior knowledge of events, although as a very hazy picture. This is because the Avidya is at work in the subconscious. The mind and senses of the present life reside in the conscious self while the Avidya resides as the subconscious. The Avidya keeps on showing contextual references to the events of life and advising the mind and senses.

When one is about to die, breathing becomes difficult. The body becomes weak. The Jeeva leaves the body and flows away. Point to be noted here is that the body or the carrier becomes weak. The Jeeva cannot ever be weakened as it does not have a shape.

Different religions have described various ways in which the Jeeva leaves the body. For example, as per Hindu mythology, if the person has done more good deeds in his life, then the Jeeva leaves the body through the eyes, with the least pain. Sometimes it leaves through the mouth when the body makes death sounds and tries to hold on to the Jeeva. There might be some unfinished tasks, but the body has become too weak for the Jeeva to complete them. Taking the unfinished business as a part of the Avidya, the Jeeva travels away.

The Jeeva does not have a shape or as it is mentioned in Hindi as Niraakaar. The deeds we do in our present life define the shape the Jeeva would take in the subsequent births. Thus the mind and senses of the present life form the Aakaar of the next birth.

This knowledge of knowing the movement of the Jeeva is beyond the realms of science. It falls in the zone of beliefs. There have been many attempts to understand and logically prove these beliefs but each is beset with doubts and questions of logic by the scientific community.

Sometimes there are certain fallacies or problems which cannot be corrected medically. The source of the problem is definitely not medical, for example extreme reactions to fire, sudden feeling of falling down etc. It is in these situations that sometimes doctors advise regressing the person’s mind to understand the real cause of the problem. The problem may or may not be of the current birth and lie in the domain of past life.

Those who have experienced past life through regression claim to have seen their present day acquaintances and people who have helped shape up their personalities in their previous births. Many might throw this claim out of the window, but some scriptures do mention that we are born in the circle of souls we have known for ages. But how does that explain seeing faces during regression when in your previous birth you could have been of the opposite sex.

I think what these people see is mannerisms and the way people carry themselves in the brief glimpses of their past lives. And the subconscious allows tie up these mannerisms to the people in our present lives. The fit to personalities is so clear that we feel as if we have seen the person in our previous lives. This act of regression to ascertain past lives should not be treated as a wild goose chase but as a medical necessity.

The idea of this essay is not to make it lengthy and bulky with a lot of jargon thrown into it. This essay is my attempt to claw down the walls or restrictions that logic and science have built in our lives. There is a belief and it is there because somewhere inside us lays the knowledge that it is correct. So those who tell you to listen to the voice from within might just be talking sense. Go on listen to your soul and you may find answers to your problems.

By God!!

2007-10-10T23:29:00.002+05:30

(Today while having lunch Anil, one of my colleagues, mentioned about the idea of God’s as Brands. This seemed to be an interesting idea to write on, so here I am. All credits to Anil for this very interesting idea, but all brickbats on its implementation are strictly mine.)
Ever since childhood we have been exposed to God and their tales by our elders. We have been told how to pray and why it is necessary. This has been ingratiated to such an extent into the fabric of our psyche that when in difficulty, inadvertently we end up remembering god.
They say knowledge is for good as it prompts questions. Sometimes these questions become difficult to answer and hence lead to frustrations. And that is exactly what happens when I take my poker face to my parents and compare gods to brands. But nosey that I am, and patient that my folks have become, I decided to write on it and clarify myself to a larger audience.
I feel gods are the best examples of brands. So before I go further, let me define brands for the uninitiated.
As per Wikipedia, a brand includes a name, logo, slogan, and/or design scheme associated with a product or service . Brand recognition and other reactions are created by the use of the product or service and through the influence of reinforcements like advertising, design, and media commentary. A brand is a symbolic embodiment of all the information connected to the product and serves to create associations and expectations around it.
Having said that let us now look at gods of any religion. There is a story associated with each of them, along with a set of values and features. There is extensive positive reinforcement through religious music, paintings and idols, and of course commentary in terms of mythological and new age texts / translations.
These reinforcements play a critical role in building up the overall persona. There is celebration of every small reason; more and more disciples are trained, along with having ever increasing places of worship. This is where brands and Gods merge together.
In the case gods, just like as in a brand, the concept of its absence makes one insecure. And it feeds on this insecurity.
I am not against the idea of God and do not lay much belief/credibility on just the Big Bang theory to be the reason for the existence of the solar system. There must have been some force or reason which made all this happen. Beyond the realms of science, there are some things which cannot be explained. And in such realms is where god exists. And in this single source of all creation I believe in.
If god is the solitary creator, then how do we explain the ranging multiplicity of gods across various religions? There are gods for every moment, reason, cause and what not. And this is what makes me believe, they are nothing but brands; actually the best brands of all times.
If you look more recently there has been a surge in the count of god men and reincarnations. I feel all these are feeding on a basic human trait. In reality there is nothing right or wrong. What may be right for me may be wrong for someone else. But there are some certainties like respecting your elders, treating all humans with respect etc. In our daily lives there are chances that we might miss them, and hence when a good orator says them, he is automatically placed on a higher pedestal. And if the reinforcements are proper, soon the orator becomes a Guru.
I have seen many new age gurus are qualified and educated and use the best of electronic, print and online media to promote their ideologies, all in the name of God. They build up big followings which in turn donate more money to this multimedia machinery. Their birthdays, and sometimes even their parents’ birthdays and anniversary’s are made as festivals and promoted. This builds up a myth around these people.
All such new age gurus, propagating anything from yoga to sex, have in themselves become brand franchise’s as they enjoy a critical mass of positive sentiment in the market place. I sometimes wonder if we are seeing the emergence of future Gods in these gurus.
After reading all this some may feel I have gone insane while others might blame pop culture. Whatever be it, I stay a firm believer in the oneness of god and his role as the creator. Instead of listening to the right certainties from others it’s always better to listen to our own souls. Whatever we go out to listen and imbibe is already inside us, it’s for us to explore and utilize.

Long Awaited Trip

2007-09-30T22:15:00.001+05:30

I had been planning a trip to Mathura and Vrindavan for the past 2 months. Every time the plan was cancelled at the last moment. So when my friend Vineet asked if we could make it this weekend, I promptly agreed and got tickets booked for both of us.

Catching a morning train has always been a fight for me as a traveler and for my parents who insist on dropping me to the station. Being a Sunday the train was a sell out and we somehow managed way to our seats. The tilting latch on the seats had been broken, so at the price of a normal seat we had a near fully reclining bed. If that was the beginning of a memorable Sunday, we sure were right. Although the person travelling on the seat behind me kept cribbing why was I reclining so much. By gones be by gones, the train journey was smooth and was interspersed with a stale omlette breakfast and some ultra strong coffee to gulp it down. Never the less, the train reached on time despite all the stoppages.

Just like most stations in India, Mathura station is not much of a pretty sight. Jumping and scooting our way out of the platform we finally reached the main gate of the station building. Here we were met by a number of auto and taxi drivers trying to lure us into plying with them. Finally we struck a deal with one auto driver to take us to both Mathura and Vrindavan, across all the temples, and back in just Rs. 350. Not a bad deal indeed!!

Vrindavan is about 15 km from Mathura city and the temples there close for an afternoon siesta for the deities at 12:30 pm. So we decided to head straight for Vrindavan. During the journey, our auto hit a few bumpy patches of the road, and I think that’s when it hit upon me to write about this trip. Those pot holes do have an effect!! Then a bee flew into the auto and we had to get off to avoid getting stung. Well, nothing much else happened during balance 15 minutes of the journey.

As soon as we entered Vrindavan, our friendly auto driver and guide took us to the Glass Temple (or kanch ka mandir). The main shrine is built in glass and is a sight to be seen. Skirting our way through people trying to sell Lord Krishna photographs we entered the temple. There was a beautiful setup of Lord Krishna holding the mighty Goverdhan Mountain on his index finger. Post clicking a few pictures and acting like tourists we bought a 3 rupee ticket and entered a small cave which had beautiful models of Lord Krishna's life and times.

Once out of the kanch ka mandir, we headed of to The Katyayni Devi temple. The temple is located slightly off the road through a small alley into a big grand courtyard. As per our guide, Devi Katyayni's hair fell here. Before alighting from the auto, we were advised to secure our camera, bags, and mobile phones due to a severe monkey menace. We did the same and visited the beautiful temple. Some of the pictures we clicked are shown here.

Soon after we drove to the Gobind Dev temple. The temple had so many monkey’s that I was asked to remove my spectacles before entering the temple. Nearby a monkey snatched a bag from someone, thus proving the caution by our auto guide to be true. Inside the temple I just clasped my hands, as with the absence of my spectacles, there was nothing much to be seen, except for what seemed from a distance to be the deity. Also, there were a lot of shouting monkeys. Afraid of them we soon left and drove of to Bihariji's Temple, also located in a small alley with a near stampede like situation.

Just outside the temple there were vendors who were applying sandal-wood paste on the foreheads of interested devotee's. Keeping in mind the weather and balance of the journey, we avoided that. Instead we decided to buy Peda prasad worth Rs. 50 per half kg.

Once inside the temple, there was a sea of humanity trying to get the best glimpses of Bihariji’s.
But there were priests close by who offered your prasad to the deity at just about any fee you would be willing to shell out. We paid Rs.20. Near the main sanctum there was a not a place to set your foot on. I stepped back but Vineet managed to make his way to be as near to god as possible. I just walked back to the entrance and got a clear view of the lord.

With our prayers said, we moved back through the alleys to our auto driver to go to the Angrez Mandir or the ISKCON Temple, frequented by a lot of westerner's and hence the local name, Angrez.

Our auto driver was an expert at handling the narrow alleys and roads, through the ever so annoying traffic jams. Enroute, near the ISKCON temple, we started seeing a lot of westerners in Indian clothing.

The proceedings at ISKCON were a little more organized. Although photography is prohibited, no one was enforcing. Result was that we got some very beautiful photographs.

The temple in itself is spread over a large area. We visited the main shrine, the parikrama marg and the shopping center. Bought some beautiful pictures of Lord Krishna. Then came the 30 minute aarti. A memorable event. Hare Rama Hare Krishna chants made it to be a beautiful event. Soon after this the deities would sleep, and prasadam would be served.

Once free from there we literally ran to the Govinda restaurant located in the temple premises. We had a sumptuous lunch at just Rs.50 per plate, and then proceeded for Mathura.

On our way back to Mathura, we stopped at the Birla Temple, which is exactly like its namesake in Delhi. Despite this striking resemblance, we still managed to make the most of the time by clicking photographs like lost tourists exploring Indian spirituality.

On entering Mathura, our now tiring auto driver showed us the Gayatri Temple before parting ways at the Krishna Janmabhoomi. He was a nice man, and was helpful mostly for the fact that he had earned his day's salary through just one customer.

At the Janmabhoomi, my friend played a prank and told an inquisitive on-looker that I was a journalist from Delhi. That gentleman happened to be a priest at one of the temple's at the Janmabhoomi. He took us around with much gusto explaining that what is thought to be the contentious site is actually not the original Krishna Janmabhoomi. He showed us some documents to prove his pitch. We played the role properly by clicking and asking some timely questions which in turn interested him more.

We saw a water reservoir close by where Lord Krishna's clothes had been washed and which had subsequently been rebuilt by the great Maratha ruler Mahadji Sindhia. We saw the prison where Lord Krishna's parents had been kept captive by his own uncle. Our friend, the priest, has been fighting a losing battle to the extent that it has resulted in an identity crisis for him.

Bidding adieu we went to the official Janmabhoomi site. We were advised to deposit all electronic items and eatables at a Government Cloak room. Wearily doing that, we entered the slow queue to enter the Krishna Janmabhoomi site. Here the security was more stern and strict than in an International Airport. The overt display of arms and ammunition was a put off. The frisking could have taken any weak hearted to file a case with the National Human Rights Commission. On the hindsight I feel it was necessary. An untoward incident here has the potential of sending ripples across the country, case in point being the Ram Janmabhoomi issue.
Once inside we went and saw the officially acclaimed birth site of Lord Krishna, which had been destroyed in 1669, and a mosque built on it. There was no idol, just a place where pictures of Lord Krishna were kept to signify importance.

We then decided to leave and did some shopping for the family at the shopping area inside the Janmabhoomi area. After leaving the Janmabhoomi we rushed back to the Railway station, stopping enroute at the Bus Stand. We had confirmed tickets for a night train which left Mathura at 8 PM. By this time we were dead tired and had no scope of visiting the balance 2 temples which opened after 2 hours. So we decided to call it a day.

Since now we had completed most of our journey 4 hours early, we decided to get them cancelled and leave early by bus. The next bus left in 30 minutes, so this left us with a little less than 30 minutes to get it cancelled and return back to the bus stand. We did make to the station in good time but heard announcement of a train in 15 minutes which had seats available. So we somehow bought tickets and were advised that our original return tickets would be cancelled in Delhi.

So friends, after finishing a hectic day of travelling and visiting temples, our day came to end 12 hours after we had started it. It surely was a great time and as Vineet puts it, "we have cleansed ourselves of all the wrong deeds of our past 10 lives". I don't know about that, but it was surely an enriching experience, likes of which one should attempt occasionally to keep some bit of sanity in our other-wise insane lives.

Keep the Faith

2007-09-19T10:42:00.001+05:30

Friedrich Nietzsche had once discussed that the tragedy in our lives often is not in the conflict with the times but rather in our inability to postpone them, as they cannot wait. Some things and activities cannot wait for the patient and great men to come in and take their own sweet time to execute. They need a split second decision. And a moment lost once, is mostly a tragedy for the rest of our lives.

Ever since our childhood, we have been told about the virtues of patience. That it is a virtue to be imbibed has been told again and again to ingratiate it into our moral fiber. We have grown to believe that all that is patient is good and the rest is bad. Every time we get angry or frustrated, it is blamed on lack of patience and the influence of modern culture of two-click results.

Patience is often described as the ability to endure waiting and delay without becoming upset, when faced with difficulties. As per Buddhism, it is a perfection which is difficult to imbibe. But when we are faced with multi-dimensional pressures of the modern day life, all these definitions and explanations seem theoretical.

I have tried to build on to my patience levels and have always credited myself to be an extremely patient person. But off and on certain situations take the better of me. I don’t think that is bad, but it sure is a matter of concern.

In the modern business driven times, every thing, every person, and every activity is basis the materialistic benefit it entails. So when faced with a stiff unflinching opposition, one tends to lose control.

When I was getting frustrated at a situation recently, a friend told me that patience was not about passively biding time, but about going on inch by inch, chipping away at the problem. It’s a very romantic idea, but in real life some situations present themselves as a dead end. And that is when such romantic ideas are most relevant but make least sense.

I don’t deny that patience can be good in some facets, but is it always good? Patience with bad choices and decisions that they may correct with time does not seem to be a correct idea. But most teams work on this belief. As they say, to err is human, but to forgive is not company’s policy. Not acting in such situations can cost the team heavily in terms of resources, which as per economic theory are always scarce.

In cases of conflict, one has to determine the right time to act. If the two parties involved might be able to wait a little longer, then it should be done. But if it is beyond that, it is always better to act rather than being patient and appease. This appeasement and wrong judgment resulted in World War 2.

The idea is to set aside the brashness of youth and think quickly on your feet. I read somewhere that most people pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that they hurry past it. So it is important to be decisive and ruthless when acting in such situations. If you know you are right, and the time is ripe, act and remove the problem.

The keyword above was time. And building on this time is patience. So be patient till you can take it. Give the other party due credit and time to correct themselves. Try and empathize with them. Try and help them correct the situation. But if this does not happen, its time to move in boys!

I am hoping that my frustrations over a situation do not prompt me to act fast. I want to give time to the problem, but not too much time to let it chip away at my sanity. Rather I would blow the problem away. Amen!!

Office Spouse'

2007-08-19T20:43:00.001+05:30

For an outsider looking at the corporate culture is just like looking at the earth from outer space; everything is serene and there seems to be no reason to suspect otherwise. But as you start zooming in more and more, you get to see people, and their lives.

Professionals, as most of us are, should strictly mean business when it comes to the work environment. Though our basic human nature and the social system we are brought up in ensures that apart from the profession, there are further interactions in the work space. Most of us end up spending close to 10-12 hours or more at work, which means that the effective time to relax the mind is reduced. So some amount of relaxation has to be found within the office space. This interaction is in terms of networking which includes gossiping, chatting etc. As I had discussed in one of my earlier essays, this social interaction in the office, is useful in replenishing the positive energy within us. So, these interactions and friendships in the office space make the job more interesting and comparatively less taxing.

These office friendships become a mutual support mechanism and discuss anything ranging from work to movies to sports, food etc. So when, among these office friendships, comes across an interesting person with whom it feels nice to be with, with whom flirtation is a given, yet the sub layer under currents are attractive, the end result is a bond which is very much a personal life within the professional life. This phenomenon is what I call as office spouses.

Running back to my oldest resource, the Wikipedia, I found some good understanding on the subject. And I club it here with my thoughts and try to bring some sense to the subject.

An office spouse is a co-worker (usually of the opposite sex) with whom one shares a special relationship, having bonds similar to those of a marriage; such as, special confidences, loyalties, shared jokes and experiences, and an unusual degree of honesty or openness.

The office spouse is a potentially key relationship when one's actual spouse or boy/girlfriend is not able to understand the nuances of the workplace.

Office spouses are the embodiment of the merging of our personal and professional lives. It is an essentially a platonic relationship which is different from friendship, but has in it what it takes to blossom further. This relationship may or may not result in an extension to the personal life. They might just be present in the office space, or in other scenarios grow into something more special. Not commenting on their chances for the same, I do feel it is one interesting proposition to explore.

So now the question arises, is it a modern phenomenon, or has it been present in earlier times too? Well, I feel the phenomena is not new, but a recognition of its ever increasing presence has been accorded in the recent times with the blurring of the office working hours. Office spouses are the answer to the sense of claustrophobia which sets in due to long working hours. A study in the US mentioned that such relationships may not only make one happier with the job, but also increases the chances of promotions and raises. In 2006, a similar study in the US showed that 32% of respondents in the corporate world had office husbands and office wives. Although no such data is available for India, I do feel the figures might not be that much different.

Some people try to tie down office spouses phenomena as a joke. They make fun of such office couples when they see. Not to blame them for their shortsightedness, I think it is completely a matter of personal choice and liking. One might vehemently deny its sheer existence, but once faced they see light.

Through this essay I am stating a social phenomenon, and in no way propagating them. But, wait a minute, on hindsight, even if I am propagating office spouse’s phenomena, so what? I am writing about it because I see it and see no wrong with it. As mentioned earlier, the sheer support one feels in presence of their office spouses, makes working worthwhile and enjoyable.

I knew two colleagues and realized they shared a special bond. They had respect for
each others likes and dislikes and always used to enjoy their company. They never romantically committed but missed the other one when he/she was on leave or away. They helped each other in their office tasks and ensured the work did not suffer. I never asked them about this relationship, lest I become just like others who winked and smiled when they saw them together, happy in each others company. This was my first brush with the phenomenon of office spouses.

Cinema has off late started to talk about such relationships but being the medium it is and the audience it caters to, most such depictions are frivolous and lack sound understanding. Most of these relationships are often confused as extra-marital. But in fact they are not. There is a very thin line of difference between office spouses and extra-marital relationships. As I said earlier office spouses essentially share a platonic relationship which might or might not grow. So clubbing both these phenomena is wrong.

Having read all this, you must wonder, should you look for office spouse’ or that you haven’t ever felt such connect with anybody, is there something wrong with you? Well, nothing is wrong with you. It is just like love, it might just happen when you least expect it. So don’t mess up with your friends after reading this, and wait for the right moment :-)

Withdrawal

2007-08-15T21:11:00.001+05:30

Withdrawal refers to the characteristic signs and symptoms that appear when a drug that causes physical or psychological dependence is regularly used for a long time and then suddenly discontinued or decreased in dosage. Easiest example of this being people leaving smoking, alcohol, and other psychotropic drugs.

Having mentioned what exactly is withdrawal, let us just look at withdrawal in terms of relationships. Now I am in no way saying that a relationship is like a drug, but it does make one physically or psychologically dependent. So when time comes to move on in life, it may result in certain withdrawal symptoms.

Withdrawal is difficult in both cases, be it drugs or human relationships. It is painful and depressing. But where and when exactly do these withdrawal symptoms occur? Are these visible, and if yes, can we observe, and correct the same? This led me to Wikipedia, where I resort for most of my research, and this time I found Withdrawal broken down in to four stages. As complicated as these may sound, they are plausible and one can figure through personal examples whether it is drugs or human relationships.

The first phase is called intrapsychic phase where the individuals involved in a relationship privately evaluate the relationship in terms of its quality and alternatives. Basically this can be referred to as the beginning of disillusionment, although it is more controlled and held in thoughts.

This is followed by the dyadic phase when these thoughts become public, and is characterized by increase in the frequency of conflicts. Here the partners actually shift back and forth between amicable resolution of the conflict issue and complete dissolution of the relationship. This is actually the last point of re-call in a relationship. Beyond this, the relationship is headed for complete withdrawal.

Now comes the social phase when both individuals acknowledge the social repercussions for separating. The social phase is followed by the somewhat aptly called grave dressing phase, involving a more optimistic, and what seems to be a more objective, evaluation and remembrance.

Withdrawal symptoms occur in the Social phase. In human relationships withdrawal is sometimes characterized by confusion among the partners. Common truth about the relationship is seldom resorted to, and mostly conflicts are blamed on to individual hallucinations, although both know what the truth is. In human relationships and other drug abuse situations, this phase is characterized by severe mood swings.

This leads us to the question that is withdrawal mutual or individual. Fact of the matter is it can be both, but I do think, withdrawal is mutual. It is totally dependent on how soon can one reach acceptance of the fact. No doubt break-up can be sudden, but one should here look at the sub-conscious, which already has started observing withdrawal, but is not ready to accept.

But does withdrawal occur suddenly or is it going on under the surface for long. Frankly, I think withdrawal process is going on inside the mind for a long time. The mind is already taking the individuals through the various phases of withdrawal without them even being able to accept. And when this acceptance occurs in the social phase, the mood swings, confusions and so called hallucinations occur.

It is a difficult phase and one needs to be objective in handling such situations. Although I understand, it is easier said than done, but mostly break-up’s go wrong in the transition from the dyadic to the social phase. It is here when all plausible solutions are exhausted and realization dawns that the end is near. Here as a last ditch effort to save what is going out of control that people show withdrawal symptoms.

Withdrawal is sometimes characterized by acute depression also. And soon can become a medical problem. Depression is generally fed by lack or excess of sympathy. So in handling withdrawal around us or for ourselves too, the basic idea should be to make it gradual and mutually least hurting for both the parties.

Withdrawal is a reality and all of us at some stage in life go through it. Be it in relationships or other wise we do feel a sense of withdrawal. One has to realize here that an end is always followed by a new beginning. Even though sometimes we may not see what the source for the new beginning is, just have faith that there is one, and sooner or later we will find it.

Social Convection

2007-08-02T08:46:00.001+05:30

For long I have had this theory that, everyone we see, meet, or talk actually changes us. In the past, I have tried to explain relationships with this principle, but never has this been proven. This essay is an effort to prove this theory.
Let me start by a small incident to set the mood.
There is an old coffee shop in the city. I was there with a friend having coffee, wearing our tracks and not shaved. We were looking not much out of place due to the presence of some foreigners. But then came, an old gentleman, dressed in a suit and a tie. We heard muffled laughter. Some people including us thought that he looked so much out of place.
Seeing us quip, one of the waiters told us, that in early times, in the elderly gentleman’s times, people used to put a lot of emphasis on dressing up for coffee rendezvous. And he still carried that tradition.
Interesting, as in those times, a good cup of coffee in a respectable restaurant was costly, and dining there was just a once month affair, unlike these days. This sounded plausible, as we saw the elderly gentleman sipping his coffee with so much satisfaction and pride. Soon, I and my friend felt a lot under-dressed in front of the elderly gentleman. He had changed us. This is what I call, Social Convection.
Now let us try and break the concept of social convection into parts. The waiter’s description converted our negative impulses into a positive thought. Others could have ridiculed him further and gone ahead. This further would have created a lot of negative energy.
So are we arriving at a thought that the human brain actually builds up energy? I think, yes!! The human brain does create energy!!
Just consider Newton’s law that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. A law of physics, but if you apply it to our daily lives it does prove the negative energy theory of the brain. All action we do as a part of our daily routines and professions, takes its toll on us in the form of stress. This stress is actually the reaction, as mentioned by Newton.
The energy thus created is generally negative as it is the outcome of our efforts to complete the tasks at hand. It is a by product of our efforts. And the human brain builds an automatic positive-negative energy balance.
Different people deal with this negative energy build-up in different ways. Some people sleep to relax, some feed this negative energy with more negative energy and get caught in a vicious cycle, while some others use it for a positive outcome.
Let us first take negative use of this negative energy. This is visible in people who crib and subsequently are prone to depression. These people feed this negative energy with more negative energy, thus breaking the positive-negative balance.
Second is through Positive action, creating something, helping someone etc. This visibly reduces the stress. I felt the power of positive action, when I wrote my first story. There was a visible relief as I felt energy leave my body as sweat.
Having said all this about the positive-negative balance, are we saying that maintaining this positive-negative balance is a once a day affair? No, actually we replenish our positive energy resources many times during the day.
If we consider, the fact that most of us take a break during our daily routines and chat with people, eat, smoke, read, write etc., and then we are actually replenishing our energy. The basis of social networking is replenishment of the positive energy to act and perform our daily tasks. This should make most of us happy, who swear by chatting with friends at work :-).
The social interaction is nothing but convection. Consider keeping a glass of hot tea in a room. In some time the tea gets warmer, and then cold. That is because everything around is constituted of particles. The hot particles of the tea cup, pass their heat to the cooler particles present in the air. And soon, the tea is warmer.
The same principle of convection is valid our daily actions. Let us come back to the incident at the coffee shop. Our beliefs and those of others who had laughed were negative energy particles in the room. The waiter’s intervention had soon given way to positive energy particles to replace them. Without us knowing, convection had taken place, and the unknown old gentleman and the waiter, had changed us forever.
As another example, if we are angry, we tend to lose our anger by talking to others. One of my friends came out angry after a meeting. She had been blamed for something which according to her was unjust. She was fuming and came out to speak to the rest of us. By just mere speaking, the anger slowly dissipated and she started to look for a way to get back. This is dissipation of the negative energy to lead to a much better and positive outcome.
Having said all this, I think the idea of positive negative balance in the brain is similar to Yin and Yang. We have to channelize our energies for the good of others and also maintaining sanity and physical balance. And all this will automatically happen through social convection, we just have to channelize to be positive in our approach.
May be through this essay, some particles of my social convection theory have passed on to you. In case, you don’t think so, I think, you need to channelize your energy for a positive outcome and think more :-).

Flight of Creativity

2007-07-16T00:27:00.001+05:30

The other day, someone who had read my stories told me that I was in the wrong business. According to him, I was a creative person and should find a different and more plausible recourse to my life. This set me off thinking, was I in the wrong profession or was their something more to creativity that my friend was missing?
There were two basic questions I was searching an answer for:
• What is Creativity?
• Is Creativity bound by vocational topics or is it present elsewhere too?
In this write up, I will try and answer some of these questions armed with a self created theory and more supporting information from the Internet.
Creativity is a mental process involving the generation of new ideas or concepts, or new associations between existing ideas or concepts. George Kneller has aptly put that creativity “...consists largely of re-arranging what we know in order to find out what we do not know.”
Creativity is moving knowledge and information to another level, where answers are found and reasons given to problems. It has been attributed to cognitive processes, social strictures, personality traits, and sometimes accident. Newton was hit by falling apples, to bring about gravity as a concept.
From a scientific point of view, the creative outcome has both appropriateness and originality. An alternative, more everyday conception of creativity is that it is simply the act of making something new. So can creativity be mixed with innovation?
Creativity for starters, is the act of producing new ideas and methods or actions, while innovation is the process of both generating and applying such creative ideas in some specific context. Innovation by virtue of its name includes completion of a creative thought to existence. Innovation and creativity have a reverse correlation between them. Innovation encompasses creativity, whereas creativity might not include innovation.
That brings us to the question; does one have to be intelligent to be creative? I guess not, although creative people historically have shown traits different than common. Some researchers believe that creativity is the outcome of the same cognitive processes as intelligence, and is only judged as creativity in terms of its outcome, i.e. when the outcome of cognitive processes happens to produce something novel.
Fred Balzac, in his study in 2006, said that creative innovation requires, “....co activation and communication between regions of the brain that ordinarily are not strongly connected.” He further illustrates that creative people, have three important traits –
1. They have high level of Specialized Knowledge.
2. They are capable of divergent thinking, mediated by the frontal lobe of the brain.
3. They are able to modulate neurotransmitters in the frontal lobe.
If the above traits and the language do not mean much to you, then it is perfectly okay. All Fred Balzac was trying to say was that the frontal lobe of the brain appears to be the nerve centre for creative impulses in a person. On a lighter note, it is imperative to understand creative people do not have horns protruding from their foreheads, thanks to the hyper activity of the frontal lobe.
Fred Balzac was trying to creatively solve the problem of the essence of creativity. So that brings us to creativity as a tool to problem solving. Creative problem solving requires more than just the knowledge and thinking. It is a process, where the solution is independently created rather than learned with assistance.
Creative process and thus the result, is multi-dimensional. Once solved, it seems that the solution was always visible; it was just that we had to relook at it. This mystery keeps creativity just the inch beyond the grasp of conclusive scientific investigation. Due to this mysterious reason, reliable and quantitative methods of calculating the creativity quotient have not been made.
So what are the qualitative trademarks of a creative person? As my father puts it, humility to learn is the most basic. The person has to be humble enough to put his knowledge aside and think of better ways to achieve the goal.
Let me explain this topic with an example. Planets revolve around the sun in an orbit. Sun due to its immense magnetic field attracts them. But planets do not fall into the sun. They maintain course of their orbit, due to a certain orbital velocity, which creates a force which negates the sun’s magnetism.
But if one day, a planet decided to be creative and leave its orbit and breakaway from the solar system, it would need force to cancel the sun’s magnetism. This force would be generated from a velocity, which is called the break-away velocity. The value of this break-away velocity actually would define how far the planet would be able to go. Thus, we can say, that the delta or difference between orbital and break-away velocities, defines creativity of the planet.

In our daily lives, we are like the planet, running around bound by societal, industry, or work strictures and norms. Those of us, who are content in living in defined boundaries, would continue with their orbital velocity and survive. But those of us, who say, enough is enough, and decide to do something new and stranger to fiction, are called creative. These people are sometimes referred to as dreamers, pioneers, or idiots, as per the maturity levels prevalent in the society. These people are always looking for their break-away velocity.
I had once read that most progress is made by those who hardly work than those who are hard working. On the outset, the thought is interesting and nothing more. But look at it with the light of this theory of orbital and break-away velocities in our daily lives, and you try and find the theory to be plausible.
The theory promotes radical thought as recourse to survival within strictures. And history has shown that radical thought is creativity in action. It brings a new order and thus creates new balances.
Imagine if someone would not have thought of wings for humans to fly, Wright Brothers would have invented the aero planes. And if, Turner had not thought of breaking away from the Cricketing fraternity by promoting his brand of Colorful cricket, we wouldn’t have had the high adrenaline one day matches.
Radical thought is important for growth of the mind and personality. But all this is true, if used for the good of the society. And this is where the dark lining in the otherwise sparkling white cloud of creativity comes in. It makes creativity a double edged sword. If used in negative connotation, creativity can be more lethal than any weapon. Every time a new weapon is created to protect, a new weapon comes up for destruction. So the important point is to use creativity intelligently.
But wait a minute, we started off by this vague comment by a friend on me being creative, and where have we ended up at? We have gone scientific, philosophical, and explored ambiguity in this flight of creativity. After writing all this, I sure think, that the horn on forehead theory is correct. It’s just that it is not visible to mere mortals.

Krishna – The Strategist: A Viewpoint

2007-07-01T20:34:00.001+05:30

In my last write up I had spoken about how Arjuna had taken the cushion of the teachings of Karma Yoga in the Bhagwat Gita, to fight the war of Mahabharata. It was a clinching argument for all those who shut themselves off from reality to retain their sanity, but were in no way escapists.
Yesterday, while chatting with a colleague, it occurred to me that in the current scenario, Lord Krishna and his political maneuverings in the Mahabharata had a lot of relevance. Hearing me speak about Lord Krishna as a human-like, political strategist did not go down well with him. When I came back and discussed the same with my family, they blamed it all on the pop culture. So I decided to understand and put forth my view-point of the life and times of Lord Krishna through the most political literature of Indian mythology – the Mahabharata.
When the Pandava’s acceded to the throne of Indraprastha, they honored their cousin Krishna. They were indebted to Krishna’s support in getting them to power, when the kingdom was ruled by their blind uncle Dhritrashtra, who was keener to pass on the throne to his son Duryodhana.
Pandava’s and Kaurava’s were faced with sibling rivalries since childhood. Be it while learning weaponry or the shastra’s. Since, their father was at the helm of things in the kingdom, the Kaurava’s led by Duryodhana, did not appreciate their paternal cousins, hogging all lime-light due to sympathy on the demise of their father Pandu.
This rivalry grew with age and became increasingly evident. Dhritrashtra was now faced with a difficult question of dividing the kingdom between his sons and those of his late brother Pandu. At this moment, entered Krishna, who was a cousin of the Pandava’s and had by then earned a name for himself, through his accession to the throne in a neighboring kingdom. He had since childhood displayed some actions which had earned him great respect amongst his kin. He had truly risen to be Lord Krishna – an incarnate of Lord Vishnu.
Krishna was gifted with a great sense of understanding of the inter-play of emotions between his fellow humans. He had a good timing and used it well too. So, when he saw Dhritrashtra’s dilemma he entered the scene. He advised the two families that continuing with the single kingdom would not be possible for long. A partition was necessary. Dhritrashtra was a blind king and did not have the courage to handle a discord of mammoth proportions. So after many maneuverings, he divided the kingdom between the Pandava’s and the Kaurava’s.
Krishna had arrived in the political scene as a cousin, and now a statesman. His hands on approach and good judgments had earned him enough respect from the Pandava’s and a section of the Kaurava’s.
At the coronation of the eldest of the Pandava’s, Yudhishtra, Krishna was the center of attraction and was being showered with praises. His contemporary, Shishupal, who was present there, did not like this special attention being accorded to Krishna. He was jealous.
Krishna, like any of us, could not take the increasingly incendiary abuses from Shishupal. He wanted to teach the man a lesson, but could not. He and Shishupal did not go well since childhood. Krishna’s meteoric rise irked Shishupal. This did not go amiss from Shishupal’s mother, who made Krishna promise her that he would forgive a hundred blemishes of her son.
At the coronation, Krishna’s hands were tied. He could not do anything to Shishupal, who was abusing him hard and fast. Krishna’s reputation was taking a hit. He had to do something to redeem him, and that too in a big way.
He let Shishupal abuse him a hundred times and then told him that his hundred lives were over. He told all who were attending about his promise to Shishupal’s mother. And then he killed him. This was Krishna’s first test and had done well to establish himself as a no nonsense player. Soon Krishna’s popularity rose and he became known as a trusted aide of the Pandava’s.
But fresh power and prosperity led to Yudhishtra becoming complacent. He did not consult Krishna much now. He wanted to assert himself as the King. And he committed a grave mistake by accepting Duryodhana’s invite to a game of dice. He did not consult Krishna, who did not take it nicely. He backed off and let the Pandava’s lose and commit hara-kiri.
When a distraught Yudhishtra lost Draupadi in the game everyone present was taken for a surprise. Krishna was sent an urgent message for help. But since he had not been consulted or invited to the game, Krishna refused. Draupadi and her family begged him and after much convincing, Krishna agreed to help. He came to the scene as a trouble shooter and retorted all attempts at Draupadi’s disrobing.
Having lost in the game of dice, Pandava’s were struck with the reality, that they had lost their land and wife both. They asked Krishna for help and begged forgiveness for ignoring him earlier. Krishna accepted their apologies as it redeemed his stature now.
He negotiated a deal with Dhritrashtra and the Kaurava’s. As per the deal, Pandava’s would go for an exile for 13 years and Duryodhana would be the King of Indraprastha. On his side, Duryodhana and Kaurava’s would absolve their claim on Draupadi. Krishna’s deal was acceptable to the Kaurava’s, and Pandava’s did not have an
option.
While Pandava’s proceeded for the exile, Krishna stayed back in his kingdom. After 13 years when Duryodhana refused to give back the land to Pandava’s, Krishna faced his first setback. He told all that an all consuming war was looming large. His credibility as a statesman and negotiator was hurt. Duryodhana led Kaurava’s ridiculed the idea of returning even five villages to the Pandava’s.
The war was now a reality. Both Kaurava’s and Pandava’s had built alliances amongst their friends.
Krishna expected support for Pandava’s from his brother Balrama. But he refused to side with either of the parties. This was another jolt to Krishna’s strategy.
So hurt with two immediate setbacks, Krishna needed to redeem himself. So he gave the army to Kaurava’s and himself took up the role of a driver and guide for Arjuna. He had to use his full political guile to win for the Pandava’s and for himself too.
Rules of engagement were decided amongst the advisors and the on the day of the war, just before first light Arjuna led by Krishna arrived at Kurukshetra.
Arjuna had 2 motives for the war. He wanted his land back, and also had to fight for Draupadi’s honor. But being an intelligent strategist he knew, his opponents were his brothers, relatives, and teachers. And if, he fought and subsequently killed them, he would go down history as a villain. So he played to Krishna’s honor.
Krishna, who had been hurt by the twin setbacks earlier, got Arjuna’s dilemma as a third quick hit. He had to ensure a clear cut victory for the Pandava’s for everybody’s sake. But primarily a victory would be beneficial for his stature amongst his kin and Yadava brothers.
So he preached Arjuna, the Bhagwat Gita, thus giving him a shield to hide behind if faced with historical backlash. When Arjuna’s dilemma was not diminishing, he showed him his “Virat Roop” as a nudge to join him for the war; if he would not join, Krishna now had the resolve to win the war on his own. Now Arjuna had a reason to be back in the war or be called a coward in history. Krishna had maneuvered his first small victory.
More than being Arjuna’s driver, Krishna was now manipulating the entire goings on of the war. He knew Arjuna had two real nemeses in the opposing camp – Karna and Bhishma.
He tricked Karna through Indra, who disguised as a beggar, asked Karna to give him his armor. Karna was caught off guard with his generous self ruling in favor of the beggar’s request. With his special armor gone Karna was a sitting duck for Arjuna’s attack.
When Arjuna’s son Abhimanyu was tricked into the Chakravyuha by the Kaurava’s, Krishna had to ensure a quick and equally emphatic retaliation; else the Pandava’s would have been lost due to their grief.
He tricked Jaidrath, a Big Kaurava General, and continued the war well into darkness when a solar eclipse was happening. As per the rules of engagement the war had to stop at sunset. Jaidrath who by now was surrounded heaved a sigh of relief. But suddenly with the sun coming out of the eclipse, ensured his killing by Arjuna to take revenge of Abhimanyu’s merciless killing at the hands of Kaurava’s. Krishna through his guile and knowledge had ensured to reduce the loss of Abhimanyu.
Now with Karna out of the way, and Jaidrath’s revenge killing, Krishna had to play a master move to remove Bhishma from the play of events.
Bhishma was now very old and was not very much in favor of the war and Kaurava’s. He was supporting whoever sat on the throne. Knowing this Krishna sent messengers to ask Bhishma how to kill him. Bhishma quipped that only Shikhandi could make him set down his weapons. This let down by Bhishma was enough for Krishna to bring Shikhandi into play by asking her the question of honor and revenge on Bhishma. With Shikhandi present with Arjuna, Bhishma let down his weapons, only to be injured into submission by Arjuna’s attacks. Krishna had now removed the biggest hurdle in the war.
With all major players out of the way, Krishna sent Bheema after Duryodhana. And in the final fight between the two equal warriors, Krishna advised Bheema to break another rule of engagement in the war. He reminded Bheema of Draupadi’s insult by Duryodhana, and advised him to hit his thigh. Hit below the belt, a bewildered Duryodhana lost the fight and was killed.
The Kaurava army was now in disarray and Krishna extracted revenge and put himself as a King-maker and master strategist. He had used guile and chinks in the rules of engagement of the war to ensure victory for the Pandava’s.
With the war over, Pandava’s got their land, and also that of Kaurava’s. Krishna had played his role the prime. Soon after he moved to his state and continued to consult and benefit from the Pandava’s.
Like all best laid plans have an error, he too had miscalculated one important point in the war. His kin, the Yadava’s were now a divided lot. Part of them who had supported the Kaurava’s, denounced Krishna.
A war ensued between Krishna supporters and nay sayers leading to a destruction of the entire dynasty. A shaken Krishna went to the forest to plan his return, in this suddenly gloomy political scenario. But as luck would have it, he was accidently killed by a hunter who mistook his toe thumb as the eye of a deer.
But how does a toe thumb resemble the eye of a deer? I believe the entire killings in the Mahabharata and subsequent internal strife between the Yadava’s had taken its toll on Krishna. He left for the forest, never to return.
Krishna used his guile and in depth knowledge of the Raj Dharma, to help him out through all situations. His teachings of Karma Yoga and Bhakti Yoga have been of immense importance to one and all. And all throughout, his approach was almost common sense that one can relate to it in similar contemporary situations.
Once, after establishing his kingdom at Dwarka, he sent his good friend Uddhao to invite Radha and her friends. But Radha and her friends chided Uddhao away, telling him that Krishna lived in their hearts. Like wise, as I sum up from his almost human like existence and common sense approach to life, I feel Krishna resides in all of us. Most of our actions at work and outside, although contemporary and inspired are just like his; all we have to do is to find him from the depths of our hearts.

Closed Eyes

2007-06-30T10:52:00.001+05:30

I had gone to see a relative at a hospital. While waiting in the reception area, we saw a doctor who had put a funny laughing ring tone to his mobile. Being in a grim mood after meeting our friend, the strange ring tone brought us back to reality with a weird thud. What was he up to? Had he forgone all decency or was he just plain mad? Frustrated we left the hospital to take a thoughtful ride back home.
Later that night, discussing the topic with my dad, it dawned that may be he was shutting himself off. He worked at a place where death and grief was a part of daily routine. Unless they drew themselves apart, they could lose all sanity.

So what all people do to shut them off from the situations they are faced with?

One of my teachers had once told us that our eye lids are the most basic defense mechanism. When we don't like anything, closing our eyes to it is a most innate and basic act. In a sense, we block out the problem, and bargain a temporary respite.
Some people smile at adversity while some go silent. I have people oscillate between extreme offences to cowing down defense. Some become so strong that they become immune to the problem. There have been instances when each one of us has had to take refuge in to one such blocking mechanism to maintain our sanity.
There is nothing wrong with this. Mythologically speaking, the Bhagwat Gita is the biggest example. Arjun had been faced with a difficult problem in the war at Kurukshetra. He had to fight and kill his own relatives, teachers, and friends to win the war of the righteous. Like any of us, his conscience did not allow this. So he told Lord Krishna about this dilemma. Lord Krishna told him to do his job and not worry about the results. He was a warrior and his job was to fight for the righteous. Even if it meant, killing his loved ones. That’s how he would justify his mission in life and would go to heaven. Arjun used the learning’s of the Bhagwat Gita as a shield to block himself against his dilemma.
All of us are faced with such a war everyday. We are worried how to block a problem out of our system but unlike Arjun, there is often no Guide like Lord Krishna present with us. So we get worried and sometimes take refuge in wrong ways.
Some evil forces use these situations to manipulate people into a treading a downward spiral. They justify it in the name of god, and some hardline translations of religion and culture.
On the other hand, some people make their own defense mechanism. They might not be completely correct, but still they are trying to save their sanity. I am in no way trying to defend the doctor at the hospital, but am putting another thought into his actions. Whenever terminally ill patients come to such doctors, they know the deadlines of these patients. Like all of us these people also feel sad and helpless. So what do they do? They find other means to preserve their sanity.
If you ever ask a soldier about war and killing, he would be dead against it. But his job requires him to do it, so he does it after making a protective shield around him.
This write-up is an effort to understand this basic human problem. I have tried to use my limited understanding of human behavior to explain it and feel have done a good job of it. Is it true, or am I building a shield against sharp criticism!!

A Feel Good Story!!

2007-06-04T07:35:00.001+05:30

(I had thought the break from writing would be longer and would be able to keep myself away from it. But as luck would have it, in less than a month am back to my old ways. As I have always maintained, there are episodes around us that warrant a re-look to save them from being lost in memory. And that is what I am doing here. Apologies are due to all my friends whose real life situations have been used and changed here with the help of powers of creative freedom vested in me to achieve a lot of aspirational value for all of us. Hope I live up to your expectations and in turn mine.)

There is something called the marriageable age. Different people have different definitions and age bracket for the same. It is different for both men and women.
The marriage market works on the phenomena of demand and supply. With the dismal male to female ratio in the country, men face a stark shortage of the right women. On the other hand women face a surplus. But once we build in the social, physical, intellectual, and so many other requirements, the resource base actually reduces to very minimal quantities. And that is exactly where the problems arise.
Some go in and find someone for them, while others are helped by friends and family. The latter is commonly termed as the phenomena of arranged marriages.
That is exactly where both of them were. Their families had after a lot of mails, telephones, and visits to the priests had decided that this was a great match. They matched 30 off the requisite 36 points, 6 more than his parents, and definitely a lot more than her parents. Socially, and intellectually the pair was suitable. He was 29 to her 25. Hence, by all standards it was a good match. So they decided to exchange the photographs.
The two were called by their respective parents and shown the photographs. The photographs were good and they Okayed their parents to arrange a meeting. The meeting was fixed in a restaurant in a secluded by lane in the centre of the city.
On the designated Sunday, at the apropos time the two met with the families in tow. The restaurant was empty and all of them sat in a corner with a television playing the local news channel which specialized in gossip more than actual news. And as providence would have it at that moment the channel was playing a story on why more and more arranged marriages were falling apart in the society.
Still the meeting went on perfectly with small talk being made on the weather and the effect of climate change on the city. Both of them were jittery and conscious of the situation. With nothing better to do she went into a discussion with his and her mother, while he discovered that the good old life insurance building just across the road had small lights on the walls.
Soon after the tea served was consumed, the parents decided to give them a break. They were asked to go out and take a short walk and talk. So they got up and left the restaurant. Once outside, reality struck. There was no good place to walk. There was a hustling and bustling market outside, and the only landmark there was the municipality building. With nothing better to do, and nowhere else to go they started to walk, soon realizing that the families lingered, not far behind.
In whatever little time on hand, they discussed music, movies, books, jobs, and like/dislike to shopping. They also brushed on the topic of their respective emotional pasts. Soon the walk ended and they were back in front of the restaurant to bid farewells. Phone numbers were exchanged as the two clans happily left with promises of meeting again soon.
Once back in their respective homes, both were asked the dreaded question, “What do you say?” And the answers were exactly in the way men and women are built. He did not find anything wrong, so he said yes, while she wanted sometime, and a few more discussions/meetings with him.
If you don’t understand why I said, “the way men and women are built,” then remember last time when you saw a man and women go buy a pair of jeans. The man would buy it because it fit fine, while the woman would not like the design of the back pocket, and hence hackle with the salesperson on the possibility of getting it changed. Well, women being women don’t understand that they would not be able to see their back pockets, and those who will be able to see, would be least interested in the pocket.
Let’s leave it there, and return to our two friends. The parents communicated the decisions to each other, and the wait started. It was akin to a game of holding eye contact. They waited for the other person to blink. And he being himself sent an innocuous looking text message after 2 days. The message was a gentle nudge.
She reacted and they spoke on the phone. She needed more time to think. Besides she was doubtful of his belief in the institution of arranged marriage. He had not even denied having a past. And to add to the confusion, he had rambled on the question. So she needed more time, and would decide once back in town. By the way, she had to leave for a business trip in a few days.
The stalemate continued and he started to get jitterier. He wrote a lot many text messages on his phone and erased more than what he had written.
On the day she had to leave, he was surprised to get a call from her. She was at the Airport and the flight was delayed by 3 hours. She had checked in and got herself a boarding pass. And the darn mobile had run out of battery.
He was thrown off the track on receiving a sudden call from her. He rambled on the phone. She had repeated the 3 hour delay twice, and he being so self conscious had overlooked it. Trying to hide the call from his mates, he in turn advised her to while away the time in the lounge on the first floor of the airport.
She was astonished. Was this guy dumb or was he just ignoring her. She clicked off the call after thanking him for the wonderful advice. She hated herself for having called him. The guy was nuts. Didn’t he understand that she wanted to talk? Clattering her heels she walked off into the airport and did what women do best when angry; she shopped.
Meanwhile as soon as the call ended, he realized what blemish he had committed. He had in his own self conscious trip, missed an open invite to talk. She would think of him as a jerk; a stupid jerk – that’s better. He walked around the floor in haste. His hands in the pockets were getting sweaty.
He banged his head gently on the wall, and struck a framed poster. It was a Dennis (the Menace) poster, which said “Don’t Quit.”
This got him thinking, and he ran to the car park. Having pushed the attendant out of sleep, he took his car and drove to the airport like a maniac. Once there he parked the car and walked to the terminal.
The guard at the gate asked him for a ticket. Ticket? He didn’t have a ticket. He was there to meet her. All through his frantic run to the parking lot, cursing the sleeping attendant, the maniacal drive, he had not once given a thought, how would he meet her.
Even she had not thought how he would enter the airport without a ticket. Realizing this she couldn’t help chiding herself. She started to replay their conversation, soon to realize that she had been very abrupt with him.
Meanwhile, he tried to explain to the guard the urgency of the reason. He explained it as if explaining a matter tantamount of National security. The guard laughed and called his mates to hear this stupid man.
Angry with herself, she walked out of the lounge. She passed the terminal entrance to go to the pay phone to call him. There was some commotion at the entrance, but she was too lost in her thoughts, reprimanding herself.
She called him from the pay phone. And a phone started to ring nearby. She ignored it and tapped her feet in anxiety, waiting for him to pick up.
His phone rang, and the display blinked with her name. He was scared, she must have called to tell him that he was an idiot and she could not marry an idiot.
“Pick up…..pick up….please,” she was saying to herself.
Dreading a censure, he picked up the phone. Not wasting a minute he started to explain how he had messed up and was so sorry for it. She was saying something, but he wanted to apologize before she got angrier.
Her voice was warm and soothing. He was impressed, that even in such anger she could maintain her composure. She was saying how she had forgotten and had been abrupt with him.
Abrupt? Forgotten? He went silent, and heard her. He had got her completely wrong. She had also realized later that he couldn’t enter the airport without a ticket. He told her he was at the gate.
She threw the pay phone and ran to the entrance. Smiling to herself. He had come. He was still stupid, why had he come as he couldn’t enter without a ticket. But she liked that he had come. She waved at him. Her cheeks were blushing.
And then as luck would have it, they announced the security check for her flight. They both heard it. He smiled and so did she. They waved. The guards smiled too. As she walked back, she turned around to see him still looking at her. She patted her head, walked back to the pay phone and rang him up.
“I will be back on Wednesday. And then we can tell the parents together.”
He smiled and nodded his head, as he saw her looking at him. They smiled for the times to come.

Au Revoir!!

2007-05-08T08:41:00.001+05:30

The idea of putting my thoughts on paper had never crossed my mind. In fact, till late 1998, I did not even read books. But then, while I spent my days under the hot summer sun at Nagpur, that a friend introduced me to the wonderful world of stories and novels.
Like most starters, I too started with the usual Sidney Sheldon’s. Thrill, titillation, and a small challenge, that I could finish a book per day, made me into a habitual reader. Slowly I graduated to Mario Puzo and Tom Clancy’s books. Mario Puzo’s, “Godfather” was a natural read, and impressed me no ends. Tom Clancy gave me my share of thrills and adventure with his high adrenaline endings.
But what really impressed me was the opening chapter of Mario Puzo’s “Fools Die.” The chapter was an autobiographical verse, where the protagonist called himself, “Master of Magic.” So much did the phrase impress me, that I wrote, my own “Master of Magic” in 1999. It was a self appreciating verse, where time is shown as the real Master of Magic.
As I moved back to Delhi, the usual freedom which comes with staying alone went away. Everyday after my post graduation college, I came back to spend time with the family. Somewhere, I reconciled, that my “Master of Magic” was just a flash in the pan and would never be able to repeat it. In fact, in absence of any fresh piece, I used the write –up in college magazines, and later, when I started working, in an office magazine.
It was around this time, when family responsibilities increased, that I started to lose patience. A lot of pent up fury, anger, and depression needed a vent. And so came, the first of my chapters, “Ramblings of a Confused Mind”. This name described my writing to the “T”, and also became as a protective shield for what was store in the future.
When I finished writing my first Ramblings, something strange happened. My mind and body, which had been engulfed in depression, suddenly became free. As if a cobweb, which had been built on my soul, slowly got torn off. What were left was a lot of sweat, and a urge to cry, to celebrate my first step in understanding myself. I had torn myself away from the cobwebs of depression.
This became my mantra, as this single writing took me along safe and sound for about a year or so. And then slowly when the things became difficult, I resorted to writing. Ramblings became my permanent story title, as it galvanized me from the reactions of people who detested my works. May be, there was a very low confidence level or whatever, but adverse criticism, I never liked.
Just to keep my writings in a place, and also to feed on my need for recognition, that I created my blog during this time. Blogging during this time was picking up in India. So, this became an additional source of happiness for me, as people appreciated my blog and a bit of my story telling.
During this time, a period of about 2 years, I wrote, just 3 chapters. Then during early 2006, whilst on hindsight, I realize, my professional life was just picking up that I wrote again. This time the idea was a bad dream, a hallucination. Not such a good piece, but it clearly depicted what was going through my mind.
Two days from finishing this latest piece, that I got my first bit of good news on the professional front. The mood was on an upswing. It was during this time that I wrote two more. Both of them were based on the current goings on in the political and the social climate of the country.
It was during this time that movies, which had always been an indelible influence, on my writings, were for the first time, in over 20 years, were influencing the youth in a very positive way. The idea of revolution, and justice for all were well imprinted in my mind. India was changing, and during this time, that for the first time, my writings started to have more of me. “I” became more and my beliefs, ideas, and outlook on certain social events, weaved into stories, brought about a lot of appreciation from my friends, and a sense of achievement.
During this time, did I really start to harness my creativity. This is further accentuated in an autobiographical account on “Understanding my Anger.”
All through out my brief writing stint, I had seldom travelled on exploiting the emotional equations between two individuals. The thought of writing dialogues, and that too adding romance into them, was an unexplored territory. But as I said earlier, movies play a pivotal role in my stories, that the journey through this unexplored territory became easy.
I became the central character, and the goings on around me, at work, at home, and from the past, became the stage. I started to churn out stories and stories, and within the last 3 months, a total of nine stories were written. All these stories had a lot of aspiration value. They were about what could not happen to me, but how I would like it happen.
2007 started with a bang. I wrote 11 stories in 4 months. Most of them were romantic as I had really taken to this idea. During this time, there were a few contractual stories; stories which friends requested. I was happy to write as there was not much to think about.
People around me started to think of me as a romanticist. Well, nothing wrong with that. I am a romantic at heart. I revel in exploring the emotions and the tension between two people, in my stories. My stories have a part of me, in the sense of aspiration, and are my take on such scenarios.
Having been into Marketing, I now know my target audience, viz. Women, and men like me. They like Sweet Nothings, and anything that moves them. So I write for them, and they read because I make them read. I am a honest writer who loves to explore his creativity. That is why last 4 months, saw me trying free verses, a dark love story, an anti-authoritarian note, and mushy romances.
Since one month, not a single new story has been written. There are few half written pieces, which I would not upload, till I am satisfied. But now satisfaction is difficult to come by. As I feel the time has come for a break. I will write again, but some other time. May be this year, may be next, but I will definitely write, as there are lots of things around us, that warrant a re-look. Also, every time, I have come back, my content has improved.
So in anticipation, of finding satisfaction, till we meet again…….Au Revoir!!

Words

2007-04-07T21:46:00.001+05:30

Sometimes we have so much to talk that words elude us. We just stay quiet trying to muster enough guts to say what we always wanted to. And like it came, the moment passes. And we are left to moan over the remains of what could have been the start of something special. However many times we may repeat the lines later, the moment went and with it went a part of us.
But they were different. When they met, words flowed. And nothing was lost in silence. They had so much to talk and share that when standing in a group, they would be talking to each other. Slowly the group would fizzle away and form somewhere else, but they would be unaware, still so alone with each other. And when they could not speak, their eyes spoke.
They were like a chemical reaction which was self sustaining and going strong. Envious eyes followed them wherever they went. But still, they remained aloof and distant; in a world of their own. It seemed as if, talking was necessary to fill up the other person on the twenty odd years spent without each other.
But turning the clock back a little, they had not been instantly attracted to each other. He always thought that she was a spoilt brat, and she that he was a studious nerd. They moved with their own set of friends in the campus till that one day.
As if it had to happen, that day, his eyes met hers as they strolled in the empty classroom. By coincidence, they had reached early for the class. And then one thing led to another. They spoke and liked what the other person spoke. So they spoke some more. And soon, they were asked to leave the class for speaking endlessly while the teacher taught.
They spoke in the cafeteria, they spoke in the car; they just couldn’t help not tell every single detail to each other. Their parents were surprised, their friends were happy; but they just didn’t know what was happening.
One day, his friend asked him, “I think you are in love!!” He vehemently denied. But that set a series of thoughts, and soon he realized he really loved her. They were.....just perfect.
Then started the quest to know what she thought. He was not able to concentrate as they spoke. Suddenly while speaking, he would look at her and start to lose words. He would just keep on staring, till she broke his reverie. He now started to define what colors suited her. He was just falling fast and deep into love with her.
What was it with words, that they eluded when they were needed the most, he thought. He just couldn’t muster up enough courage to tell her.
She was sensing something unusual with him and was now starting to get scared. She didn’t want to lose him. But his sudden change had put her on guard. May be he liked someone else, may be after all, he did not like her. May be, she thought, he was starting to get bored of her. But she could not tell him all this. She was afraid; he may think otherwise and leave her. A part of her knew she was wrong, but that was her heart.
Soon, the sentences became smaller, words were replaced with pauses. And friends began to drop by more often. Family dinners and class assignments became increasingly frequent. And slowly they began to float apart.
Whenever they saw each other, during breaks, they would be so delighted. But now, words were starting to elude them. They started noticing each other’s friends and slowly jealousy started to creep in. Now even the thought of being inseparable became like a dream. There were a lot many differences as they trudged past the final months of college.
Soon college got over, and they got busy with their jobs. Still, they missed speaking to each other. They missed being with each other. They missed a feeling of completeness. But may be they had overrated each other, they thought. Slowly they fell so apart that even sweet memories were unable to bind them together.
They met other people in their lives. But always they tried to find each other in that someone. Some people scored dismal on that scale, and some managed to hold attention. But nobody could really be who they wanted.
Days became weeks, weeks turned into months, and months into years. In each others alumni photographs they became just another face. And soon their respective parents started to pester them to marry someone. Age was not on their side. They had been given a long time to get their acts into place. Now it was time for them to live for their loved ones.
Then by providence, they met at a book store. They tried to avoid each other, but could not. Uneasiness in talking to each other was evident. By courtesy they agreed to stop by for coffee.
The coffee turned out to be great. And waiters were happy to serve them more. The words and memories had found their way out. Soon all appointments were forgotten as they started to enjoy each others company. He had become more silent and resilient, she thought. And he just couldn’t help being mesmerized by her.
But the coffee shop had to close. They were asked to pay up and leave, which they did. As they walked out, realization dawned that this was just a chance encounter. It had to end, and they had to go back into their mundane lives.
They fought the battle hard in their minds and hearts. What if she refuses and why can’t he ask, were the questions that dogged their minds. But words eluded them once again. A feeling of disgust suddenly came into them. And they walked away.
Suddenly he stopped, and turned back. She was still standing there. He walked straight back and held her hand. She started to protest but became silent. Tears started to form in her eyes.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

He kept quiet. And then, slowly he bent on one knee, and took her hand. With a pen in his hand, he drew a ring on her finger.

“Would this do till tomorrow morning when the shops open?” he said.

She was now crying and smiling as she nodded her approval.

The moment was not lost.

Words were not eluding them anymore.

And they talked and lived happily ever after.

Another Cup of Coffee

2007-03-28T10:11:00.001+05:30

He was finishing his first coffee as she came in. His eyes had been at the cafe's entrance for sometime now. He stood as she came and settled herself opposite him.
"Thanks for coming", he said
"Well, I had to come. Need to clarify a few things", she went silent as her coffee was served.
Surprised, she looked at him. "How did you know my flavor?"
"Hmm......trade secret", he said and winked at her.
"Are you always like this?"
He smiled, "Nah.....it’s you", and kept on looking at her.
She blushed and as if it to hide herself, started to sip on her coffee. This was not going as per plan. She had to tell him it was not possible. Things had to be set in the right perspective.
"Listen......its not possible", she said. Her hands….. tightly clutching her glass.
"What is not possible? I haven't said a thing."
"See, I am coming out of a bad relationship and getting into another........not possible. And I have just known you for 5 months"
He sighed and gently touched her hands. Her grip loosened on the glass and slowly he held them and brought them in the middle of the table.
She looked the other way. Her lips tightly clutched.
"I told you its not possible", she said softly and tried against her will to leave the gentle grip of his hands.
"I understand everything you say. But please listen to me", he said. Her hands stopped moving as she looked at him, as if prodding him to speak.
"See, we are all like the pieces of an unsolved jigsaw puzzle. We are looking for the right part that completes us, and solves the puzzle. You solve me." He was looking at her. His words were sinking in.
Her hands slowly had a soft grip on his. She looked at him and smiled, "You have a way with words."
He smiled back, "Can I have my coffee now?"
She became conscious and let her hands go. As she withdrew her hands, he smiled and grabbed them back. "I finished my coffee long back."
She blushed, "then, can I finish mine?"
"No.................” he chuckled, "of course you can."
"On one side I understand and like what you say, but my parents are also looking out for someone for me. I don't wanna disappoint them, but their idea of deciding my life partner over a cup of coffee and just one meeting.........not my way."
"Well, we have known each other for 5 months, and this is definitely not our first coffee out together. Give yourself a chance. Give me a chance. I know we can work out."
She smiled and sipped her coffee. "You know I had planned to refuse you and move out fast."
"I know.........I know....” he said, "I have a way with words."
Both of them smiled.
She finished her coffee.
As they moved out, he felt her fingers brushing his hands. He looked at her. And slowly their fingers inter-twined.
"This is good", she said as they walked away.

Spider

2007-03-23T09:38:00.001+05:30

He slowly raised his head; his eyes gazing at a distant horizon. Motionless for a few moments, he turned his head, each side once. Slowly, a smile formed on his face.
His hands trembled on the gun kept beside him. He moved his hands roughly over the weapon, as if cajoling it to act. His eyes blinked once.
And then suddenly he raised it, took careful aim and shot. The gun’s plunger hit the vacuum of the barrel and clicked loudly.
"Ah..........” he exclaimed, as a near hysterical laughter emanated from deep inside him.
The could-have been victim slowly wiped the cold sweat off her brows. She slowly ran her fingers through his hair.
He said, "Lemme tell you something interesting today. You must have seen bee's around a fluorescent light. The bee is attracted to the light and keeps on flying near it, inevitably trying to settle on it. But sometimes, a spider comes there and builds a web. The bee unaware of nefarious designs of the spider still gets attracted to the light. It tries to fly to the light but gets tangled in the web. Somehow it manages to get away.
The seduction has begun. The bee keeps on trying, intrigued by the stickiness of the web. The spider keeps on making the web tighter. And slowly the bee gets caught in the web. It writhes to get free but is unable to. And slowly it dies there, life snuffed out of it."
She looked at him quizzically. Her face contorting as a sudden chill ran down. As if to cover up, she rubbed his cheek softly.
He looked at her changing demeanor and asked, "Why did you make me the bee?"
She kept on looking at him. And then when realization dawned, she lowered her eyes. "I am sorry", she said. Her mind was working fast to understand how did he know. He was smart, but she had carefully planned this evening. The cops would be here in minutes. But how did he know?
He saw her puzzled face and picked up a cigarette butt from the dustbin. "You don't smoke non-filtered."
The cops weren't there still. How had she forgotten this small detail? He could never miss this. She had to stop him. But his game face had her speechless. "I love you", was all she could say.
He smiled sarcastically. "I love you too. That's why I am not going to kill you. The cop's you had tipped were ambushed on the last crossing. They now think you double played them."
Her eyes were now full of terror. The police were now after her. They would not rest till they avenge the killing of their friends.
She picked up the gun and aimed at him. "It’s empty." He said and sat back on the chair.
He had tricked her. She had lost and would never be free. Frustrated, she threw the gun at him. Tears were running down her cheeks.
He picked up the gun. Looked at her and smiled. "I am sorry!!" he said and fired. She hit the floor, dead.
He looked at her dead face. They could have been so happy together. Slowly, he walked away.
The cops reached late. There had been no ambush. The spider had tricked them.

Let it out!!

2007-03-15T09:45:00.000+05:30

This time I am going to talk about the unspoken. Words, that emanates from deep within us but die out before they pass through our vocal chords. There can be many reasons, viz. emotional, societal strictures, and political concerns. It is true. How many times have u sworn under your breath and still shown a beaming and concerning smile to everyone else? So let’s not get into denial and read ahead.
Well sarcasm is one sure provocative reason which gets our creative imaginations running. Sarcasm generally results from societal and political strictures, though seldom it might have emotional roots too. But when sarcasm is used for its own in a funny way, it surely exemplifies one's wit. Its all about talking and knowing how to talk.
The other day I was with a few friends, one of whom is a little frisky. On being pointed, in a joke, he said may be he was a cop in his earlier avatar. Well, I thank god, he was not a dog earlier.
Then another friend informed all of us that he was getting married. That's good. Now you would say what funny about this? Well he then said his room partner had got married last month. Oh boy!! Was he taking revenge? Well, he should understand in our society Elton John and his partner are still not regarded as a couple.
Sometimes societal strictures bind us from taking everything in a funny stride. I got a SMS from a friend which read like this:
By the Grace of God we have been blessed with a baby boy
But mate if it was all gods’s doing then what about you??
I just couldn't tell him this and messaged back a congratulatory text.
Emotionally speaking, it happens all so often, that we are unable to say how much someone means to us. We go around in circles by going out in a group even though the only person visible, is her. Why can't one just go out and tell her, "You rock my world!!"
Have you ever seen how women meet at parties and societal do's? Well, they would first ignore, and then pass fleeting glances judging each others clothes, jewellery etc. And when they come face to face, they would burst out praying ignorance, and appreciating each others clothes, jobs etc. But as they move away, they would elbow their respective partners and say, "What a b****!!"
This is what I am talking about. We need someone or some medium to say it.
But saying all this, I still do maintain that talking is important. If we don't talk, people will pass off problems as assumptions and try and solve their own problems rather than the real ones. These are tricky situations as the Boss ain't like anyone else's voice. So stay quiet, if you must, but look for a forum to voice your mood. Talk, don't let it stay inside. If you can't write and force others to read it, as I do, talk to your partner or friends. Let the free spirit soar and you would start understanding whatever I have rambled above. All the Best!!

Sweet Nothings

2007-03-07T09:26:00.001+05:30

They sat there silently on the opposite sides of the table. Earlier, when they used to meet, holding hands was as good as a norm. But now it was different.
"Why didn't you write something about me? I always wanted you to surprise me someday."
He smiled a knowing smile. "Ok.....let me try."
He scratched his chin. A thin, wiry smile was beginning to form, as thoughts started to come together. "Listen to this....”

I was living a curse,
Until I met you!
It was going to be worse,
Until I met you!
.............
.............
I could have fallen for the nurse
Until I met you!

He laughed and she smiled, softly punching his shoulder, "Very funny!!"
They silently stared at other tables. It was an ironic situation.
"Tell me something sweet", she said, as if cutting through his thoughts.
He looked away and said.....

The moments we shared
The way we cared
You gave me lot of smiles
That would last us all the miles

She looked away. Her hand moved across the table to hold his hand tightly. A small tear drop forming at the corner of her eye.
"I am sorry", she said softly.
"Don't be......it was all its worth."
They were silent for a while.
"Why did you let me go then? Couldn't you have stopped me?” she asked.
"I don't know, have thought of it many times. I couldn't have refused your dad. And, then, I was nothing."
"That’s so stupid. You could have just asked me what I wanted. But you and dad didn't. So let us not discuss this further, it makes me mad."
They stayed silent for some more time. Their hands were so comfortable with each other.
Then she said, "I read something longtime back, it struck a chord somewhere in me. Listen to this......."

Ranjha dhoondan main gayi
Ranjha milaya na moye
Rabb milaya, Ranjha na milaya
Rabb Ranjhe jaisa koye!!

Her eyes were now brimming with tears. A surging pain from the past was coming to the fore. He saw it and stayed quiet for a few moments. Their tightly clasped hands were now providing solace to each other.

"So where is God today?" he asked after another long silence.

Quiet for a while….. She smiled, taking her hands back, "He went to drop the kids with his mom. Should be here any moment.....ah here he is."

They stood and he shook hands with her husband.
"My God", he said winking at her, "we finally meet."
She was fighting hard not to look flushed.
It was going to be a long and difficult, but necessary, evening for all of them. She introduced them and went head on to make peace between her past and present.

Being Romantic

2007-03-01T09:35:00.000+05:30

I have long believed that romance is not just a factor of being in love with a person. It is about being in awe of somebody or something that you can't imagine anything else.
Some would compare this to optimism. But being romantic is more than just being optimistic. Optimism still has an amount of sanity attached to it. It is about weighing your options and trying to get to something by a little stretch. Romantic nature throws all caution to wind. It’s about going head on to a problem which most feel is impossible.
It is about ridiculous solutions. Solutions, that do not conform to the universal goings on. Solutions that 99% of the times would go wrong. But the 1% of success would make people sit up and acknowledge in disbelief.
Romanticizing a task is not like a toggle switch. It requires a thorough belief that you can do it. It’s about finding the child inside you and looking at the problem through his eyes. The enormous nature of the problem will never deter you then. You will look for various ways of conquering the problem. It is like looking for the mystical eye of the fish.
All of us believe in something’s which others might think is stupidity. That is the beginning of this romance. It’s about being so stupid in your belief that others' comments don't matter. It’s about reaching the higher state of mind.
Wright Brothers couldn’t have flown the world’s first airplane. Graham Bell couldn’t have invented the telephone; Gandhi couldn’t have raised the hopes of millions; India couldn’t have beaten the World Champion West Indies in the 1983 Cricket World Cup, if they had not been so much in love with their dreams.
To me Tiger Woods is an apt example of a romantic. In a rich white man's game, who would have thought that a demure looking, not-so rich, black man would make a cut so big that the game would be popular for the coming years because Tiger Woods played it.
And on a more recent turn of events, when Tiger was at his peak, that someone came from behind and defeated him in the US PGA, was unexpected.
These upset's to the norm, and the sweet, tempting, taste of success is what inspires romanticism. And once you succeed, it slowly becomes your life blood.
The adrenaline levels peak on seeing a difficult situation. Mind starts looking for ways to tackle it. And the voices of naysayer become blurred as you take the plunge.
The world stands still as your face hits the surface of water and you go deep inside.
As soon as you start the ascent back that you realize that everyone was rooting for you to do it, deep down inside their hearts.
The applause has no meaning now.
You have won over your demons and gotten ahead of the pack.
So next time just don’t worry when they tell you it is impossible and you are mad to even think about it. Just ignore them. Because, getting back with the pack is the easiest then. They will show you a lot of carrots to leave your dreams. But if you leave it then, you will live your life with a broken belief and a permanent tag of “Could Have Been.”
Just don’t stop. Go ahead. Hit it with all you have till the time either the problem gives in or you do.
But believe me there is no problem which can stand the force of a romantic, of a dreamer.
So get up and hit it again!!
We are all romantics at some level. As I said earlier, It’s about finding the child.
Have you found the child inside you?

Growing Up

2007-02-19T09:50:00.001+05:30

She switched the channels on the radio. The singer gave a loud shriek on realizing that he would be switched for someone else, or was it just a high pitched verse. But channel, she did change.
Then suddenly she started waving upwards through her driver’s window. I jumped and asked, "Did you like the song so much?" She looked at me disdainfully and said, "I was just raising the antenna!!"
Once, someone had placed an advertisement leaflet on her windscreen. She was feeling lazy to pull it off, so she started the wipers, and soon the model in the advertisement, was all over her wind-screen.
Another time someone was once honking a horn at her callous driving at rush hour that she got so disgusted and shouted, "Shut up or I will call Daddy!!"
Then there was once that she bought two stupid looking teddy's for her car. One adorned the front rear view and the other at the back, where she could look at it from the rear view (how innovative!!)
I could go on and on about her and her gleefully stupid ways. But that was when we were at college (as they say, when the leaves were still green and 14th Feb was Valentines Day and rose day was bigger than anything). Now it is different. Now after, 7 years, 2 bad relationships, 3 broken bones, and one black eye, I met her again. She is married and has a kid too. But that’s food for a later part. This one is different.
We were so close to commitment, yet something pulled us apart. There was this chauvinistic idea in my mind, that I was not earning, so how could I ask her to step down from the luxuries of life that were hers. Then there was.... her dad.
He didn't like me two bit. He thought, I was detrimental for his daughter.....a bad habit. She was unaware of it, and made a big point that I was the first guy she wanted her parents to meet (whatever that meant). Her mother was nice and cheerful. But he hated me from the first look, I knew it.
Somewhere inside, I realized he was right. I would have done the same for my daughter. I couldn't have let her languish with some young good-for-nothing guy, when I had created a world of comfort for her by working double shifts.
Despite the animosity we shared, he knew that she listened to me. I could convince her the way he no longer used to. So when she had refused to marry his friends’ son, he wrote a mail to me. I know he would have felt like hating himself for asking me to convince his daughter to accept the guy he wanted her to marry. In his mail, he said, that since she would only listen to me, I was the only one he could ask. He was controlled, yet somewhere it was a man to man sort of a prose. Mail was a good medium as I know he couldn't have asked me on my face. I understood. He was a good man, a loving and brave father.
I didn't write back. But a week later, she said yes!! I slowly made myself scarce in a shell of my own.
He met me at the wedding. I had just entered when we spotted each other. Excusing himself from relatives, he walked slowly to me.
We stood in silence for a while, and then tried to make small talk. Soon there was nothing more to say. Someone called him from behind. Just before leaving, he patted my shoulder and gave a bear hug. That was the first time during this whole ordeal that I felt tears brimming my eyes. He quickly turned away and walked, dabbing his eyes.
A month later, I got a mail from him. He wrote:
“She is happy and safe. We finally understood each other so late. Thanks.....son.”
I haven't seen him since then. But the mail is still there. It’s a reminder of my growing up years. Whenever I am feeling low, reading the mail brings back a sense of belief and security. Even when I am on a high, there is nothing better to see how good he was and how much more I need to grow. He was truly her hero........my hero......God Bless!!

Some People

2007-02-05T21:49:00.000+05:30

Some people get whatever they want
Some people get whatever they need
Some people will get just whatever they get

Some people sense something
Some people grant something
Some people will just ignore something

Some people gleefully accept things
Some people shout their throats hoarse
Some people will just write what they feel

Some people read what others have written
Some people discard it as a futile effort
Some people will just look inside

Some people always be some people
Some people always be who could have been somebody
Some people will just grow to become somebody

Some people change the world for somebody
Some people mean the world to somebody
Some people will just feel so alone with somebody

Some people move ahead
Some people walk along
Some people will just fall back

Some people are a step behind
Some people are far behind
Some people will just be memories

Some people cherish memories
Some people shed a tear
Some people will just be stoic

Some people become weak
Some people resign to fate
Some people will just do something about it

Some people read this and think I have lost it
Some people read this and get scared
Some people will just see a step forward

Some people are mere spectators
Some people laud what they couldn't understand
Some people will just loathe what they missed

So I say it again.....
Some people get whatever they want
Some people get whatever they need
Some people will get just whatever they get

I am Alive!!

2007-02-04T16:44:00.000+05:30

There are a few things which money cannot buy, but for other things there is some credit card. I have borrowed this phrase from a popular advertisement because it really is true. And if you think I am going to bore you with the reasons why this is so true and good, then forget it. Didn’t have a starting line (or something I love to call my pick up line) so thought why not use this.
Now coming straight to the point!! I have a confession to make. I love to bitch about others. Don’t know for how long I have been at it, but it seems like ages. Like for example in school when a guy brought a brand new snazzy school bag, I was literally in tears, bitching how lowly this guy was acting whilst showing off his bag. Agreed, that a bag is such a small thing. But please see I am writing of an age when I too was small.
But whatever be it, I was bitching. You might call it as an outcome of jealousy but you can never deny it. Jealousy or whatever, we spend close to 10 to 100% of our daily routines bitching about something or someone. Be it boss’s new shirt or the neighbor’s new car. We are doing it without even realizing. Is gossiping or bitching the best form of rest and recreation during our oh…so hectic lives that we have to also harp about the need for work-life balance at the end of the day?
Before I dwell further into the topic, let us first understand the cause of doing what we do (...okay I didn’t want to write it again, but here we go...bitching). I feel jealousy at various levels more or less sums up the evolution of this urge. It is the feeling of under-achievement whenever someone achieves something. Achievement, here is more than just material. It may be something we couldn’t care much about, but still somewhere the green in our psyche shines.
I have heard stories of great men and women who were happy for other’s success that they sometimes gave it away themselves. Well, I am not a great man; I am just an ordinary person you pass by every day. And ditto is true with you, because we definitely do pass by each other sometime. So, that being settled that we are ordinary people, we can also agree on the fact that we all do feel jealous. You know it, I know it.
I asked a few people what set them off and triggered this urge. I got a plethora of varied replies. In professional and competitive scenario, this urge is sparked off if someone gets a better project or profile (which I couldn’t care much about), an award or recognition (even for a cause I could not do in ages), a better seat (even if it meant the poor guy would not be able to check personal mails and chat with friends on phone), and so on, but the crux is that he did get something, and I didn’t.
In personal interactions, there are a lot more colors which mix and make us go green. This friend of mine had gone to party with his date. As per him, she was looking good that day (as per me she always looks good, may be he was wearing his glasses that day!). As soon as they entered the party, there came another stunning friend of hers, and our man was left gaping for fresh air. This stunner came and pecked his date on both cheeks as he looked on longingly and starving. As she left, his date remarked, “Did you look at her? She was wearing such a cheap perfume. Must be her dad’s or brother’s after shave.” He just looked on perplexed.
Is this just jealousy or is it more? Is it not jealousy mixed with some bit of insecurity? I believe, it is not just some little sense of insecurity, but really a lot of insecurity!! But why? May be my friends date must have felt insecure, even though she knew deep in her heart that she had my friend for as long as she knew how to flutter her eyes.
I have seen colleagues at work acting bitchy about others in front of bosses. They just need to show others down. Okay, let me not say they, cause somewhere I also do that. And we all just cannot deny being insecure here. We have to do it, so as to somewhere massage our own ego’s.
Have you ever thought who feels more jealous and more urge for bitching, is it men or women? Though more associated with women, jealousy, gossiping, and bitching is as much man thing. We all love to do it. It’s as if it is the spice of our mundane lives. It makes us feel more alive and more up to the minute. It makes us feel more human and less scratched reflections of our idols. Whenever someone tells me not to be jealous and take things in my stride, I just tell them, “I am Alive!!” Are you Alive?

The Holy Grail

2007-01-22T10:29:00.003+05:30

"Mirror, Mirror on the wall, is she the one, after all?"
The mirror did not reply and I got the answer. But that led to another question, “if not her, then who?" I had asked this question to the mirror 4 times in as many years, and had got no reply.
Ok, fine, mirrors don't speak, and to be true I knew that deep inside. I asked this question, because I did not want a reply. I was not ready for a relationship. The two sacred words, "I do", were too precious to be told to all and sundry. They are meant for the perfect one. But where is the perfect one? She is like the Holy Grail, of which most have written, but none has found. May be I did not want to find her. May be....may be I am scared of commitment.
Yes, that may be the answer to a lot many questions. But why am I scared of commitment? Is it about me, or is it a general phenomenon with men my age?
A friend of mine was also facing the same predicament. He liked this lady, but was scared of committing to her. I asked him, and he gave a very interesting reply. He said, "Commitment is like having the same drink for the rest of your life. And I love mixing my drinks." Well, that lame duck example said a lot. Commitment means an end to variety. And variety, they say, adds spice to life.
He had evaded commitment by funny yet very poignant replies. She had called him asking three reasons why they shouldn't be together. He had told her this,
1. I am a Vegetarian, and you are a non-vegetarian.
2. My family is Vegetarian, and yours is non-vegetarian.
3. You love Chicken Tikka Masala, and I don't.
The lady had huffed off the room.

Another interesting anecdote from one of my graduation friends was equally enlightening. He had recently started seeing a colleague of his. Together, they made a good couple, photogenically at least. So after seeing a latest picture of theirs, I asked him, "So have you gotten to holding hands now?"
"Why?? I don't wanna have babies now?” he replied.
I spilled my glass of coke at this. He laughed, and continued, "Oi mate, see I haven't lost my touch yet. Yes, we are holding hands. See my nails are all clean now." And he burst out laughing again.
The truth is that neither he, nor I, nor the most of men my age are ready for a commitment yet. We are laughing at the most important questions of our lives. We are running away and don't want to stop. Because stopping would mean, committing, and for that none of us are ready.
But inherently the problem is even deeper. Everyone has rings of privacy around us. And depending upon our feelings for a person, we give him or her access to inner rings around us. The ring closest to us is the ultimate ring of privacy. And access to it is only for parents, and the person you are committed to. Parents are there in that ring since birth, so that leaves only her out of it. And to bring her into your perfect world, she needs to be perfect. And perfection, my friends, is a relative term. The more we look, the more we find faults in even the best of them all. So we continue our never ending search.
The only truth, I have realized, is that the Chase is always better. March On People!!

Cupid Returns

2007-01-07T21:37:00.002+05:30

Well, I am back. It took a great noble prod to get me back to writing. I had decided not to write for a few months, but somehow, couldn’t afford to let myself follow my own decision.
This time, its not me am going to talk here about. My story, as complicated as you can imagine, is still there. But, it’s about a friend that I want to talk this time.
I have known him for over 6 years. And in all this time, he has for once not spoken about a girl. Not that I have doubts on his preference (although our friends always thought there was something fishy about the way we used to stay together.....well that’s for another time), but he was the staunch pillar of orthodoxy.
“My parents would find a girl for me.” He used to be so emphatic in his thoughts that when he spoke about someone he met at a wedding for 3 long minutes that I fell off my chair. And this 3 minute monologue of his made me decide, “I have to help him.”
To be truthful, I am no great at matters of heart, but somehow, I still have a better knack of what women like and dislike (as you must be aware from my earlier sojourns). So, I became Cupid, a fully clothed one at that! And instead of the bow and arrow, I had my words and the most powerful tool of this century, the telephone.
Well, they both are pursuing the same course, and live a few blocks away from each other. And, it took them 500 kilometers and 29 years to meet. Strange world, eh!!
So, they hit it off well at the wedding. Exchanged numbers and decided to take it up once back in town. And back in town, he didn’t have a clue as to how to move ahead.
We decided to give a honest chase. So, he messaged a joke, and got a joke back. And then, she messaged him a joke, and got a joke back too!! Well, we were working on getting them together, not making their jocular vocabulary better. Something had to be done....and that to fast.
A day after the joke marathon, while all set to cross a road to my house, I held him back. Told him, he would not enter my house or cross the road, if he didn’t call her up. You should have seen the look on his face. On a cold January evening, he was shaken and stirred to sweat. But I was adamant, and he after much cajoling and threatening, finally gave in.
The call was made under my supervision. He spoke, and interjected, exactly the way I told him. A little joke here, a compliment there, and a longing silence in between. The idea was to break the ice, and get on to the next level. And to him, crossing the road, was as good as graduating to the next level. I wrote notes for him to use on that call, and he did that well. They agreed to meet, and chatted some more. And when the conversation was getting too long for the comfort of a first call, that I asked him to shut up. His reaction was of horror, as if Cupid now had long teeth and the look of a devil. So, as per instruction, he repeated the next day venue and time, and clicked off.
Now, he was jumping up and down in terror, as a child would after breaking a window. He was terrorized. Didn’t know what to do, and was in a way hating me. I had to calm him down. And once calm and relaxed, I asked him, what he was worried about, calling her up or meeting her the next day. His answer said it all. It was all about meeting her the next day.
So while sitting at the dinner table at my home, while mom cooked dinner for us, I told him to think he is at the coffee shop to meet her, and I am her. So what will he talk? How will he greet and meet her? We had to finalize everything lest he bungle up a golden chance.
It took us 2 hours to finalize the show details; how not to be early or late, but just in time. How to greet her and which coffee to order. He was shifting a lot in this mock play, so that had to be corrected. And with minor changes, that too was taken care off.
Finally, our man was ready to go. Next day, so as not to let his tempo breakdown, I and a few friends spoke to him. Confirmed that everything was fine, we crossed our fingers and let the cub go for his first kill.
Well, Sidney Sheldon would agree, the Best Laid Plans always develop a hitch. Our plan also developed a snag. That day, there was a big traffic jam, and the meeting was postponed. So as not to let him get jittery, we had to speak to him a lot. Once, calmed and ready, we sent him to the venue.
But lo behold, there was another unforeseen hassle here. There was Birthday party happening at the coffee shop. Wow!! And our man got confused. He, rather I, had visualized a empty looking coffee shop and had planned that way. So here, our man got cold sweat. Instead of pushing the door open he tried pulling it, only to be corrected by a staff.
Once, inside he simply could not handle the crowd. Suddenly, as if all resolve was breaking, he did the unthinkable. He forgot her face!! And went ahead to meet a “similar looking” girl.
But as he was about to say hello, someone shouted at him. Shaken already, he was jolted back to reality, as he his lady sitting on the last table, and waiving. He took his already extended hand back and moved it thru his hair, and slowly, walked towards her.
“Thanks for coming. I somehow lost you in this crowd, and then you waived”, he said.
“Oh, I was calling the waiter, but never mind, so we finally meet”, she said.
And so the conversation went, till they decided to move to relatively quieter joint, and spoke for two hours.
Once back, our man was thrilled, and so was I. The lady had sent positive signals. And much to his dismay, I did not let him message her or talk to her for the next one day. But after about a day he messaged. A subtle and probing message.
No prompt replies were expected, at least by me. But he was nearly heart-broken. Finally the sweet sound of the mobile jingled and mended what ever cracks had developed in his heart. She had responded three hours later with a guarded yet positive reply. She had shown intent to play. And friends, the game was finally and officially on.
Cupid had finally hit home!! So get ready for a New Season!!

Biopsy of a Team

2006-11-27T15:11:00.000+05:30

For the last few days, I have been thinking about writing about a topic with most of the people around me define with. Teams. Yes, since most of us spend anything from 12 to 15 hours daily working with our respective teams and organizations, this topic should elicit the maximum amount of thought and emotion from us.
I am not a Management Guru or a thinker, but I write from what I see. And I see what most of us do.
Defining Teams
Teams are not just about the huddle after a success. They are more than that. A team, as I see it, is a collection of people who come together to accomplish a certain common task. The task can be playing a game, as in cricket or football, or working in an organization. Believe me, the latter can be as engaging as the former.
But, from the above definition of a team, there are two important phrases, viz. Collection of people and Common Task. Let’s take them one by one.
Collection of people, as it goes, is not a simple proposition, People picked up randomly and put together to accomplish a task, might just be an act of cinematic liberty. In real life and real organizations, this is not true. In today's scenario, teams are selected from a group of people with a certain skill set. This skill set can be true in terms of physical and mental attributes. For the purpose of discussion let us club domain knowledge with physical attributes. Mental attributes would basically talk of the person's fitment into the team, adapting and understanding the team culture and objective.
Team Selection - Role of Specialists & Generalists
In an ideal team selection, every single member knows what he does, best. And also, there is respect in the abilities of others in the team. But, if everything was white and black, where would generalists like me go. So, there are certain people who basically can fit in more than one role. They might not be specialists, but they can hold fort in most scenarios.
It is with these generalist people that most of the mental attribute problems arise. Sometimes in their minds, and sometimes in others.
The job of team selection is to me the most important in the ultimate accomplishment of a task. This is because, generalists, with their ability to handle a bit of others domain area, they might spell a sense of insecurity among the team members. Not to say that Generalists are more of a nuisance to team culture, we should understand, these people need special handling. They have to be nurtured as by multi-tasking they display a distinct understanding of team objectives, and in the present manpower reduction scenario, they form an essential part of the team.
Here the role of the team leader is important. He can move ahead and try and model all members as generalists, or keep a healthy mix of specialists and generalists. That to me is the key of team selection and reflects the means to end approach of the team.
But the end, to me is what most teams don’t understand. The clarity and singularity of purpose are not evident these days. Teams which work on defined timelines or targets mostly display this attribute. Sometimes, the team leaders also miss the real purpose and take on hands on day to day approach. Here we again delve in to the mental attribute of teams.
Mental Attributes – Fitment, Adaptability, & Clarity of Goal
Basic purpose or goal of team is a factor of many environmental parameters. On a macro level, this is ruled by the Industry, the technology, and mostly by outlook of the management. A goal once decided moves along as the team and the organization mature and grow. This transient nature of the goal, tests the mettle of a team and the vision of the leader.
Blaming the team leader for low engagement levels in the team is not completely correct. Although, by being the leader, quantum of the blame rests with him, but certain factors are beyond his control too.
If the organization has decided to focus its attention towards a new technology, then the entire team which was working on the now-out dated techniques is rendered in such a flux. I have faced such a situation, where in the organization decided, in face of competition, to switch technologies mid-way. The entire team was in a state of indecisiveness and was then relocated to various other teams. This led to low motivation and engagement levels, and further to mass exodus to other organizations. And till date, whenever we all meet, the person most criticized is the team leader for not being open and forthright with the team on such a drastic change. This might not be completely correct, but that’s how I see everyone, including myself, functioning.
In that state of flux, if the team was taken into confidence, before hand, and explained the impending scenario, at least some engagement levels could have been maintained. But that is asking much from the team leader, who himself was a member of someone else’s team.
But where most organizations and team leaders go wrong, is to shove the entire impending scenario under the carpet. Like as taking the above example further, all employees were taken for an outbound to a resort within city limits and engagement was discussed there. Its not that the team had a flock of sheep who did not understand anything, but the team leader and the management still thought it to be a better way of handling the situation. Result was the inevitable, the engagement score dipped to an all time low.
On a cautionary side, let me add, lets not see all such efforts (as in outbound etc.) by the team leader, as shoving concern under the carpet. Some Outbound trips I attended recently were pure unadulterated fun and led to good bonding between the team.
But still as per the common belief, things go wrong when they have to and are most needed to go right. Team leaders falter when then they are most required to go right.
Teams are complex and need very careful handling. A trick missed once can have a multiplying effect later. And this is the common scenario most teams and organizations face.
So if you are leading a team, then chalk out a vision for the team. Even if the goals are transient, vision is generally stable over time and through situations. Engage the team, involve them in decision making, but also be critical when required. All this is easier said than done. But try some of it, and your team, even after a long time will never criticize you. And you could simply believe in the phrase, Happily Ever After!!

An Ode to the Women in My Life

2006-11-13T09:38:00.013+05:30

Agatha Christie said, "Any woman can make a fool of a man, and if he is in love with her, more so." This is so aptly put, and coming from a woman who created Hercule Poirot, this is more of a candid confession.

I am not saying that all women are conniving and cunning. I can never say that. You know why!! Not because most of my readers are women but because I enjoy their company!! Hence, proving my credentials once and for all, about my preferences.

Women enjoy interplaying men, situations, and other women around them. They have a good sense of timing on what to say or do when. Just imagine, you are winning an argument and suddenly her eyes brim. And then, even before you can imagine, the contest comes flowing down her eyes as tears. And then from an aggressive and winning partner, you are now the loser; and guilt is written across your face. Often this incident leads to gifts and your going down and scratching your knees.

Its not that women do it intentionally, it happens because they are like that. It has its benefits too. Imagine watching a romantic story. Women can cry easily and relieve them, as men, we have to blink our eyes to shun the emotions away or play on our cell phones. We are macho and can't cry or she might think am a sissy boy. So at the end of it all, we have to crack a joke on why these stupid sob story makers don't provide tissues with the tickets. This dilemma is perennial.

To say that women know what to do and when, would be giving them a larger than life aura. But if you give them a car, all that I said about timing can be thrown out of the window. They can cut across lanes, jam their feet on the breaks suddenly, and talk on cell phones while driving, as if it is god's will. And if someone tells them, it’s wrong, then promptly comes the counter-attack, which eventually in most cases, ends in tears and you being guilty.

History has always been His Story. Because she never let him know that he was the character and she the script writer. Every successful man has a women behind him, well so does every unsuccessful man. This is just like watching a puppet show. At school, my puppetry teacher, a woman, had all male puppet characters. I didn't understand then, but she took immense pride in ordering, and cajoling them to act on her fingers. When given the chance, I always missed a trick. The wrong finger moved, and instead of shaking his head, he did a pelvic thrust that would put even Michael Jackson to shame.

Decisions taken with your partner are always mutual. She decides that mutually, it is the best for you. It can range from the choice of a restaurant to the food you order, to the color of your shirt and tie. Women have such a sense of color and knowing what suits what. Men can take it casual. But women, never!! Even their casual has a dressing sense. The jeans are torn at the right places, the shirt has exactly the right number of buttons, the hair color has just the right tinge of red and what not.

But having said all of that, we are incomplete without them. They add the necessary charm and a daily quest in our lives, the quest of what next? Something.....that keeps us on our toes. Something.... which makes us better men.

So here's a Big Thank You to all the women in my life. God Bless You and more of your kind be blessed to save my soul.
Amen!!

God Save Me

2006-11-01T11:26:00.001+05:30

I am sitting here in a very dark room, looking all somber and sincere. There is just one light source which suddenly illuminates my face. And I look up to you.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Don’t know how to say it. But what should I do, this needs to be told.”
I grimace. And look at you with melancholy eyes.
What the heck, I still will say it, because this was the best way I found to start my next write-up on me and myself.
Well, I would imagine the lights go up, and there is a clatter of claps and whistles all around the room. Even if there aren’t any, I don’t care, ‘cause I am telling something which all of us feel and find it difficult and unexplainable.
Last time I wrote, I told you how the women I wanted to meet were all booked or married and the ones left for me were high on EQ and low on IQ.
As I moved on, in my search of finding someone who completes the puzzle, that’s me, I have now realized one very important cardinal truth. Women have these two basic traits given by nature to protect themselves from overtures of men like me.
Firstly, they have good intuition. And by good I mean very good, as in extra-ordinary. Whatever we men are dying to say, she has already understood. So, here I should assume that the problem is solved. She knows what I want to say, so every thing is fine and we can let the fat lady sing.
No, my friend!
There is still a second trait which most women exhibit. They show they are dumb. That they don’t understand a thing and are confused. That explains why most women on being proposed say, “I always treated you as a friend. Oh my God, I can’t believe it. I am so saddened by this. Its better we don’t meet.”
Boom!!
Didn’t I hit a chord? ‘cause that’s what I have heard so many times during my stay on earth.
Not just while being proposed, women generally portray the idea of being happy in small things of life. As this friend of mine who told me, “I got my nose pierced and my fiancé held my hand all throughout. Don’t you think its beautiful?”
You bet.....it ain’t!!
Even getting your nose pierced while holding hands with your guy.....how can it be beautiful. I can’t imagine how that guy could stand this. I would have fainted as soon as the needle would have been brought anywhere near her.
Well, moving on. Women have this unique way of making you feel special. They would even make waiting for you sound so special, as in “take your time….I am here.” And once the wait is over the tantrums would follow. “You don’t know how to manage time. I don’t know how would you do in future.” Strange....but true.
The other day, this friend of mine told me, “You are the only guy, whose my such a close friend.” Wow….so sweet. But I have basically lost out on women, that I shot back, “Hey does your fiancé have some problem?”
The outcome was natural. Needless to say my foot got stamped by her 4 inch heel.
You must have realized by now, how confused I am about women and their strange ways. But somehow when I see her, I go weak in my knees. Hey.....don’t imagine this to be mushy.
Whenever I see some good woman, I end up hitting my knee on some wall, chair or table.
I still am looking for a missing part of my life puzzle who completes me. There have been some who have come close to being in the vicinity of being near to perfect. But sadly.....none have been ideal.
We always look for someone who completes us. And in that search I move on. And on my way I meet women who can be intelligent and dim-witted at the same time.
I heard a British once say, “God Save the Queen.”
Hey, why save the Queen?
Save me. ‘Cause the Queen can fend for herself.

The Ticking Clock

2006-10-15T22:39:00.001+05:30

Well.....I am back. You would have expected me to take longer. But I am back faster....so bear with me.
Last time we met, I had spoken, was on my new found understanding of Venutian. I was on the top of the world. And every time I passed a native of Venus, seemed she said something good about me. At least.... that’s what I want to think.
Life suddenly had a new color. Even the color red was adorable and lovely. Everything was feeling so new and so good. I could do what most men would die for. I could tell what women want.
I knew what they liked. The music, the food, the clothes, the shoes....yes, the shoes. Actually most women are fixated on shoes. They feel shoes are the best friend. Men come later.
So armed with all such knowledge I marched on. I was loving each and every moment. But as they say, satisfaction is something most people don’t find. What next? Yes, that was the question which dogged me. Was it always going to be so happy and nice or was there a down-side to it?
Surprise....Surprise!! I found the next step fast. But believe me it led me to a very very important question. To my utter dismay, I found that the women I wanted to meet and be with were either married or booked. And since now I am too old to snatch someone else’s girl, I looked for the maiden maidens.
The more I looked.....the more I suffered from paranoia. They were in another plane of existence. Either they were too dumb or too intelligent to show me their true self. But whatever was....I was disappointed. My knowledge and quest were leading me to destination nowhere.
But nowhere was definitely somewhere. Intriguingly, I was still running after them.
Was I getting dumb or was I so desperate? A male friend at work, when posed with this dilemma, put it, “You are just there, at the doorstep of marriage....after which all men go dumb and mad.”
Am I there? Well, as I said last time, my parents, friends, relatives think that and also my Venutian handicap has improved. So....may be I am there.
Now this scares me. I can’t be tied down. I have my free soul which needs to enjoy the sins this world has to offer. But as they say....every dog has its day. I just had 28 years of good days. And now, its time to raise the toast.....am on toast this time.
This takes me back to what was scaring me. The dimwitted women I met, or the extent to which I wanted to meet them again. Just read below for a very apt example, which happened last week.
The other day we went for a date.....or should I call it just a meeting? Rest of my friends saw other designs in it. When I came back they gave me looks.....as if I had forgotten something important......Oh...there were no give-aways on my face or collar.
Well, there couldn’t be.
I called the date a meeting because it was too short to call it one. I reached a little late..... say about an hour.....that’s not a big deal with so much traffic and work at office.
She said. “You are again late….the shop with the best discount on shoes just closed. What am I going to do here now?”
Hello??? What am I going to do here now?
Excuse Me!!.....Couldn’t she look at me? I had even used the new deodorant.
Didn’t I tell you these women can only think of shoes!! So..... it was just a meeting, what could have been a nice romantic date. I spent our way back convincing her how sorry I was.....and how much I wanted to be with her.....and we would definitely go out and buy nice shoes for her.
I left her home and made way back to my friends and their mischievous glances. Damn!!
And to top it all we chatted on the cell, and she explained why I should stick to schedules and maintain a work-life balance.
Just to buy new shoes with her?
Whatever.....I convinced her that we would definitely buy new shoes and I would leave work on time.
See....I am losing it. The battle is half lost and I am now contemplating a give-in. A meek surrender to what fate has in for me.
But I am the King!! I can’t lose like this. I have rise from the ashes like a Phoenix. And win all wars. So I am going to give fate a fight for the money.
To all those who say I am there at the last post....I can just say this.....
The Boss just had a rough day....but he is still the Master of All He Surveys!!
So even if you are married or booked.....I am here for you!!

Eyes

2006-10-03T21:41:00.001+05:30

They sat there in awkward silence. It had been like this ever since they had met for the first time. But the tension today was palpable.
They had met, not so long ago, right here. Since then, it had been a roller-coaster. Both had made some excuse or other from their respective partners to be together. Not understanding what it was, just following what they felt was right.
Suddenly the mundane day, had a new color to it. Every minute which passed, brought the moment of togetherness closer. And when they met, time which was supposed to stop or at least go slower went faster. And then would again start, the wait for the next day.....next meeting.
How was this different from the previous ones or rather the one in which they were currently. Well.....this time nothing had been said or committed. Yet to be around, without even speaking a word brought in a sense of belonging and completion which had been missing.
They missed each other, even when they were with their partners. The longing was now creating a tension around them. When they passed by, in presence, of friends, they just looked at each other....no greetings....eyes looking.....as if penetrating. Not even a blink.
No one saw it....but they did. And so the tension mounted.
So what had changed today? Well, to say it simply....nothing. But even in the silence....a tacit approval for each others special place had come in.
They were traveling by the bus, as they did daily. She was looking out of the window, and so was he. And while the bus passed a crowd, she turned to tell him something.
He was looking at her. His hand on the side rest was cupping his face. Two fingers crossing his lips, as if to stop any words from flowing out.
She looked at him, starting to say something, but couldn’t. A sudden flutter crossed her heart. As he just blinked once. The eyes closing.... as if, registering the moment in his mind forever.
She suddenly felt weak. Suddenly everything around in the bus was blurred. Only he was clear.
And then they both looked away. The moment had come and gone without even a faint whisper. But somehow they knew it now. What words couldn’t, eyes had said.
She looked out of the window. Not seeing anything, but feeling his eyes.
He looked at her. Her fingers tightly knotted together...as if she was clutching something. He looked around, and then slowly held her hand. Her fingers opened up....as if letting go her current relationship and giving into this new sensation. Her fingers slowly, inter-twining with his. As they traveled...not looking at each other for the rest of the journey.
A lot had been accomplished. And a lot had to be. But some how the tension was gone and there was now a lot of clarity. Both of them smiled at themselves....and held their hands, as for this moment...time stopped.

Empire Strikes Back!!

2006-09-30T12:43:00.001+05:30

Well...this is my second write up on myself. And this time I had decided, or rather had been made to decide, I would look at things happening to me from the more optimistic angle. So here I go, and the problem is the same... one faced by many of my peers.
It’s been two years since my last ex got married. I had decided to take a break. After having done a world of good for so many families, uniting so many people, I thought Cupid needed to take a break. And so I did.
Two years, was just plain, pure, and unadulterated work. I mean work as in, what I do...where I work and earn a living. So…in the two years, there was not even a mild flutter of the eyes. As if I had mentally put a stop on the production of Oxytocin hormone in my brain.
For the uninitiated this hormone is actually the one which causes most of the problems. I read somewhere that this is a very uncomplicated hormone because of the simple chemical bonds in its construction.
But complications…for me, it has caused many. To the extent that at an early day in my life I had decided that one day I would write my memoirs, of all my quests. Mind it none of these quests were short of sending missions to the moon. For me they were actually missions to Venus and understanding Venutian. Even I had written a dedication for it....
Dedicated to...
The lives I have lived
The deaths I have died
And
The Women I have loved.

Venutian is something all men want to understand but rather don’t. Mel Gibson tried not long back, but failed soon. I would rather not get into how difficult or impossible it is to understand Venutian. But rather I would now talk of my quests and where I am headed now.
As I mentioned earlier, my last ex go married two years back. According to close friends, if some girl is not getting married, she should start seeing me, cause definitely she would find someone and get married. That someone, in all the years of my life hasn’t been me.
So for the good of society, I had spent all my life acting like a matchmaker. It started with making a match for me, but ended with a match for someone else. As if the person on the altar got changed mid-way.
Not boring myself, and of course you on the topic of my failed attempts, I would rather now go on and explain something which has started happening off late. I had started to experience a new understanding of Venutian. A need to tell the world...the King is Back. So with my Venutian skills being upgraded again, I was feeling as an all new me!!
That took me back to my old haunts. Yesterday, I was reading a blog written by my ex. Here I should take the credit, that she got this habit from me…cause I used to detail all our tiffs and insecurities on my blog. So...coming back….she had written on how beautiful life was and her beliefs in the virtue of the family.
Something struck me...So I called her up, and without even saying hello or any other niceties, just said, “Are you pregnant?”
Naturally so…she was taken aback.
“What! Are you mad or what?” she said.
“No, I mean...err...are you?” I said.
Understanding me....she said... “You are impossible. And to answer you, I am.”

Bingo!!

I was right. I knew it. See..we understood each other so well. Somewhere during their revolution around the Sun...Mars and Venus had come close enough to understand the language at least. Am damn happy for her and her husband. Cause later to soothe my ego, I believe, she was too dumb for me.
But this proved a point. I was back. The King was on a comeback trail from a self imposed exile.

Well, coming back to the strange turn everything has taken recently. As if there is a board hanging around my neck, which says “Single” and that too in bold.
And everyone, from my parents, friends, relatives, colleagues, and even people I meet for a short meeting or so, tell me. “Get Married.” Some even try hard to become a match maker...like a friend, if she is reading this would know who I am talking about.
As if all the channels on the telly are showing the same show. How boring....and creepy. Don’t they have any other work or is it so obvious on me.
Well...to be true...I too for long wanted to get back into the Big game. To get the feel back....that Tiger is still the king of all he surveys. That Venutian is a beautiful language...that the Oxytocin factory suddenly went on mass production.
So to cut a long story short, and spare you of a failed attempt to write a happy and optimistic interpretation of the new happenings in my life, I would just say....
Game On People!!

Understanding My Anger

2006-09-12T23:00:00.000+05:30

Sometimes it happens....these days quite so often, that I express anger at even small instances. It didn't happen before. Earlier it was just mild reactions and I used to go quite, brooding inside. Now that brooding has come out. And it is taking a very ugly shape.

I don’t like they way I react, but it happens and it’s beyond my control. Just take something what happened today. I reacted angrily when a book meant for travel reading was forgotten in the car by my mom. She kept quite, not liking my reaction. I didn’t like the way I reacted. And to top it up, when I turned to look at her, I gave the most nastiest and cruel facial reaction, as in why is she reacting like this? I hate myself for this, had warned myself of such a happening; but it still happened.

Was the book so important that it elicited such a reaction or is it something else? Just taking on from there, I feel its time to understand the genesis of this anger.
As mentioned above, this anger was earlier in the form of internal brooding. Everyone praised my patience, but didn't know what struggle went on inside. And I used to play to the galleries. An image of immense patience and resolve, I was the role model for others.

Internally, I used to be so split that sometimes I had to take shelter in some reel life figure. A lot childish, some may say, but was effective. My success in being the idol of patience, in my eyes, was bigger than the success of my idols, in reality. Although, if I say I knew how weak I was inside, would be using the unjustified help of hindsight, and again playing to the galleries.

The main point was that the anger was always there. But while discussing the earliest known form of my anger, we stumbled on the point of being weak inside. Now let us spend sometime in understanding this.

Weakness inside me was more a psychological thing than any other. The idea of performing against all odds, and compulsorily winning was not taught to me. As a child I sensed it. Starting from comparing clothes to schools to toys, everything I did or had was a part of my idea of a life long race. Winning small laps but to keep on running was the mantra. In some cases, it still is. Even as I write this, I am thinking how people would react. This I think is not having confidence in one's self. So another something to ponder on....confidence.

Confidence or the lack of it is an interesting thought. If you know me, I come across as a fairly confident person; on some instances even over confident. But I fear loss, and this forms the source of my lack of confidence. You might turn back and say anyone would fear losing, but once you start putting the onus on winning, as high as I do, you might be sucked into this spiral. And victory to me is so important that on occasions it leads to lying, and above that lying to myself.

Well...well, we have now reached a new corner of this maze of unraveling the internal strife that results in unnecessary anger. And it is about lying to myself. Sometimes when I have to do something, I unnecessarily hype it up so much that it amounts to setting difficult and useless targets. And then I lie to others to make them fall in line. If you look closer, this lying habit stems from the idea of winning against all odds. And we discussed this earlier as a lack of confidence. But where did this lack of confidence come from. I believe it did from something which all parents do, comparing their children with those of others. Its not that I am saying all this happened from there. It didn’t. They compared, because I believe of a similar internal strife. My internal strife and this anger that ensues from it is largely a result of taking the feeling of victory against all odds too seriously. Even more seriously than was intended.

While growing up I have fought many battles inside to defeat this weakness. I have won some, and have lost some. But it has led to discovering the inner depths of my mind. And when I lose this battle to anger and patience, I really become angry at myself, resulting in fruitless show of anger as in nasty facial expressions.

What a day it would be to say whatever you like to anyone and they wont mind. But sadly world is not the movie "Liar Liar". So I still have to fight more battles and win them. Because Victory is essential, this time.... for my sanity.

Sweet Melody

2006-07-23T14:42:00.000+05:30

I still remember that day clearly. I was sitting in the balcony, reading the newspaper, when she came back from the University, and said,"I am home dad." She went into her room singing a melodic song. Closing the door she started to strum the strings of her guitar, singing the melody. I hadn't ever heard this song. Slowly, I closed my eyes and started to enjoy it. A smile on my face, my head moving in appreciation of the melody and her voice. Life was so nice, hummable, and melodic.
The next day she left for the university early for the classes. I was trying to remember the melody, but could not. So, I sat on the balcony reading the newspaper.
I sat there wondering, did the newspaper have less pages, or did I read it fast. Still she had not come back. I got worried and called her friends. They had seen her leave at the usual time, but none thereafter.
I searched, and searched, and searched.
And finally, called the cops. The melody and the voice both weren't anywhere to be seen.
They called. They had found her body. They found the accused a week later. Someone important's son, who had taken away the most important part of my life for his fun. They tried him in the Court. The Judge set him free, saying he was helpless. I never cried, numb from the sudden twist in my life.
I have spent the last decade thinking of the melody and how I had forgotten it, and with it the peace and happiness of my life, my child. I used to try my hand on her guitar, but the melody didn't come back.
So I decided to do something, which I wouldn't have done ever. I walked to his home. Went up the stairs. My life was moving in front of my eyes as a film. With a blank face and a numb mind I pressed the door-bell.
He opened the door. And then stepped back. Confused, realizing what was in store. I raised the gun and shot him. He stumbled and fell. Seeing him die, my tears finally came and I started to cry.
But then from somewhere in the recesses of my mind, it came back. I started to sway to the melody. I started to dance, with tears running down my face. She had started to sing again, from heaven above, in peace.....

Revolution

2006-05-31T14:20:00.000+05:30

I walked down the street, surrounded by friends and comrades. Today was destined to be the biggest day in the fight. What I was about to do would change their outlook about us. It would clarify, that we are serious about the cause.
Every revolution requires sacrifice, and today was my turn. It had been a long discussion among the core group on who would be the first one. I had been the obvious choice. Educated, belonging to a good family, and above all not attached.
Well, at least that is what I knew then.
I had expressed my feelings to her sometime back. She had kept down the phone, and not called back since. Disheartened, I had fully immersed myself into the revolution, and since then risen among the ranks.
I was ready to die for the cause. At least my parents and friends will be proud of me. I woke up early, bathed and had tea watching the most beautiful sunrise of my life. I wanted to call her and bid adieu but something inside held me back. She was so special and I did not want to lose the focus.
As I was about to leave, the phone started to ring. I left it ringing, stepped out and locked the door. But something, I don't know what stopped me. I went back in to take the call. Till then the call had already got forwarded to my voice mail. So, I dialed my voice mail to check the message. May be the schedule had changed.
What I heard made my knees weak. I held on to the table. It was her. She had called to say that she was now ready and wanted me to meet her parents and I should call her in the evening as she was going to the protests.
I stood up, so she was going to be there. Suddenly the resolve was going amiss. I walked down the stairs to the grounds.
I walked down the street, surrounded by friends and comrades. Today was destined to be the biggest day in the fight. What I was about to do would change their outlook about us. It would clarify, that we are serious about the cause. I was about to immolate myself in full public view. But now I was not sure. I wanted to live. I wanted to be happy with her; we would solve all our problems.
And then from the corner of my eye I saw a glimpse of her. Our eyes met. There was a burning sensation. The revolution was out of my mind and I was just staring in her eyes.
Suddenly she started to shout. Cry. The burning sensation increased and there was severe pain. Oh no........someone had set me ablaze. The flames were rising. I wanted to doze them but couldn't.
And then I fell unconscious.
Now my body lies in the morgue. Brought dead; with severe burns, and concussions. I am crying not because I died but because I died when I wanted to live. She walked in to claim my body. She was hysterical, and I was crying with her.....for us.

The Quake

2006-05-31T14:19:00.000+05:30

I came back home late last night from a friends house. We had a nice time celebrating his birthday along with his parents who were visiting from out of town.
After reaching home, I followed my daily routine, changed, brushed, took my iPod and went to bed. Like all nights I listened to my favorite Elvis song....
"Wise men say,
Only fools rush in...
But I can't help falling in love, with you."
And then I heard nothing and fell into deep sleep.
Sometime later everything started shaking. It started as a slow rumble. My mind couldn't realize initially but slowly it started to register that this was an earthquake.
I held on to my bed, opening my eyes slightly to look at the stuff kept in my room. Everything was shaking.
Suddenly the rumbling increased and then there was shouting on the street below. Dogs were barking.
By now I was starting to get scared. My parents sleep in the next room.
Collecting my fears, I slowly started to get up. My iPod headphones were hanging around my neck. Pulling them out, I got out of bed.
The rumbling was persistent. I tried standing but could not. I held on to a chair to balance myself. Slowly I took two steps towards where my slippers were kept. I wore my slippers while holding on to the chair.
Kept the iPod on the table and slowly made my way to my parent’s room.
My heart was pounding. Slowly opened the door and looked inside.
They were sleeping sound. But there was shouting and screaming on the street below. "They must really be tired yesterday", I thought. I had a feeling that this was a nightmare. My foot hit a table and a low shriek escaped. My toe was hurt. I felt down, the toe nail was broken. This was true, and it was happening. I would show this toe nail to the doctor in the morning.
Slowly holding the furniture on the way walked back to where the television was. The television table was shaking. I checked the screws and then slowly using small steps came back to my bed.
I sat on my bed. The rumbling was still going on. But it seemed to be subsiding.
I sat there for a long time, eyes wide open, and mind blank. There were a lot of aftershocks. After sometime, when the shocks were nearly over I fell asleep.
Two hours later, the shrilling alarm woke me up. Opening my eyes, I looked around. Everything in the room looked fine.
Walking to the television, I picked up the remote and switched it on. I flipped on all the channels, but there was no news. Not even breaking news. How could this happen?
I looked around. Shaken, I went back to my bed. Couldn't believe nothing had happened and I had a nightmare.
To sooth myself, I decided to listen to some music. My hands roamed on the bed searching for the iPod.
It wasn't there. Where was it?
I walked to the table.
No, this couldn't be true. The iPod was on the table.
So, this wasn't a nightmare. I had lived it. I wanted to tell everyone. Nobody would believe me.
These things only happened in movies... or was this, an indication of things to come??

Tere Bin

2005-03-25T16:06:00.001+05:30

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Presenting Rabbi Shergill”
And then the singer started crooning a number amidst large applause.

Tere Bin
Sanu Sohnia
Koi Hor
Nahio Labna

Somewhere in the crowd she heard the song. Thinking. Remembering. The song had a trance effect on her and she suddenly was in the back of a car, in a far away town, sitting holding his hands, as the driver drove.
They had met just a few days back and since then it seemed life had been a roller-coaster. So near yet so far.
Once on their way back, as they sat on the back seat of the car, the same song played.
“I love this song, it has beautiful lyrics”, he said.
“I don’t understand Punjabi, what does it mean?”
“It has beautiful romantic lyrics. I will translate it for you. It says, without you oh my love, I wouldn’t find anybody else. Someone who gives peace to my soul, and who can indulge me”
“Its beautiful”
She put her hand on his. His fingers slightly moved over hers. They hadn’t ever held hands. He put the bag on his knees and their inter-twined hands behind it, lest the driver would see.
“Tell me the whole meaning of the song. I want to feel the song.”
Jiven Rukia Si Tun Zara
Nahion Bhulna Main Saari Umar
Jiven Akhia Si Akhan Chura
Rovenga Sanu Yaad Kar
”I still remember the way you had stopped. I would not forget it ever in my life. The way you had told me, someday you would remember me and cry.”
She held his hands tight. They looked at each other, and then she closed her eyes. He looked out of the window.
He was fast becoming unsure. May be things were moving a bit too fast. May be…He didn’t know.
Hasia Si Main Hasa Ajeeb
Tu Nahi Si Hasia
Dil Vich Tere Jo Raaz Si
Mainu Tu Kyoun Ni Dasia

Tere Bin Sanu Eh Raaz
Kisi Hor Nahio Dasna
Tere Bin Peer Da Ilaaj
Kis Vaid Kolon Labna
”I had laughed a strange laugh, but you hadn’t laughed. There was a secret in your heart, which you didn’t tell me. Without you, who would tell me this secret. Without you, who would cure me of this.”
A tear ran down her eye. She held his hand tight. And looked at him. He was looking out of the window. He couldn’t look into her eyes.
The car stopped. She had to board the bus from here on. They walked to the bus, hand in hand. She booked her luggage. His arm around her, he hugged her. She had tears in her eyes. He was stoic.
The bus was about to leave. She settled down on her seat and looked out at him. Her out stretched hand on the closed window. Tears down her cheeks. He didn’t speak. But mouthed the words, “I am sorry.” And he moved away.
She looked at her out stretched palm on the window, and pushed it back down. May be he was right. Things couldn’t work out between them. She closed her eyes and cried.

“Hey, why are you crying. Do you know Punjabi?”
She was suddenly back at the concert with her colleagues.
“Nah, don’t know. Sorry. Lets go from here”
They moved. And she looked back at the singer. Wiping her tears she moved ahead. Tere Bin…..

It only happens in the movies

2005-01-29T15:58:00.000+05:30

He was confused. Walking down the stairs of the town hall, hands tucked in his pockets, his face covered with woolen scarf, saving him from the winter chill. The scene had a definitive murkiness to itself. Was it his state of mind or was it for real? He tried to re-collect what had happened.
It was so surreal.
While sifting through the rubble in an archeological site located just north of this sleepy little town, he had stumbled upon a strange box. It was covered with mud. But that didn’t hide the intricate carvings on the box. There were inscriptions which he couldn’t decipher. He wondered how such an obvious object could not catch the eye of professional archeologists.
He picked up the box and cleaned it. The inscriptions were in what seemed like a mix of small and bigger lines. Curious, he opened the box. The latch was hard. It was not opening. He applied a little more pressure and the latch clicked. The click sound was so loud that it echoed all around him. Suddenly he was afraid. He had seen The Mummy last week on HBO. And the thought of uncovering such a box was bringing him mixed emotions of joy and dread.
Temptation got the better of him. He held the latch and opened the box. To his amusement, inside the box was a film roll negative. There wasn’t much sunlight so he couldn’t gather what was the roll all about. But it seemed strange to find a film roll after going through the emotions of temptation and dread. May be the Mummy happened only in the movies.
He took the roll and drove back to a photo studio. The place was owned by a friend, who allowed him to use the lab. He got down to developing the roll. In the red light of the dark room, he saw the photographs developing.
He suddenly caught the table for support. An all of sudden dread had gripped him. The pictures had him lying on the floor in front of the town-hall, covered all in blood. Just at the foot of the stairs his body lay, shredded with bullets.
He was confused. Was this some kind of a joke? Fate was playing a joke on him. He had heard of storied of Abraham Lincoln knowing of his death before hand. But how could this be. He was just an ordinary man. Yes, he had been cruel in some ways. But what was this?
He tried looking for more in the pictures. There was a car. A familiar face looking out of the window. Was she going kill him? Yes, they had problems, but why would she kill him. In an instant he realized it was her friend who was instigating here. He had ignored him. People had told him she was having an affair. He had ignored. He loved her despite the problems.
He looked closer. Her friend was also there. He was crouched in front of him, as if hiding something. May be the gun!!
He fell back on the chair in the red light draped lab. He was supposed to be at the town hall in an hour. He would kill them before they did him. He had always been a winner. He would prove this to be a joke.
He checked his gun and walked out.
He drove his car to the town hall. Before stepping out, he checked the bullets. He would kill them before they did him.
He went in and finished his work. And then came the time he was waiting for.

He was confused. Walking down the stairs of the town hall, hands tucked in his
pockets, his face covered with woolen scarf, saving him from the winter chill. The scene had a definitive murkiness to itself. Was it his state of mind or was it for real?

He saw him standing at the foot of the stairs. She was in the car. Looking out. Hiding her face. He walked as if not noticing her. He pushed the safety latch of his gun. Walked to him and pulled the gun on his face. The man seemed to be speechless. Suddenly something hit him in the leg. He pressed the trigger.
As if in slow motion, at the same instant one of the guards saw this man pull out a gun on the Mayor. He did what he was taught to do. He pulled the safety and in an instant opened fire. Hitting the man in the legs first. As he opened fire, he slipped. And the shot went awry. It hit the assassin in chest. The man fell down.
The guard moved fast to secure the Mayor. He was also lying on the ground. He turned the mayor around. He had been shot in the shoulder. He was safe. A woman came running out of a car. And crouched at the dead assassin. Other guards also came in to secure the location. Meanwhile he walked to the dead assassin; there were some photographs on the ground near the body. He picked one and fell back at what he saw.
It had him standing over the body of the assassin looking at the picture.

His-Story

2004-06-04T17:45:00.000+05:30

Over the past few days her eyes had said a story, which he could not comprehend. May be it was one of her moods, he thought. And he did not think again about it.
Then a day before, he had seen her talking on the phone, softly else someone would hear. Something inside him irked. The signs were not right. He asked why she looked upset, she said she wasn’t. Still he somehow knew who she was talking to, and what was in store over the next few days. And still he chose not to face reality.
He could not continue like that. And then, he dared himself, and asked her. She said “He’s back. I haven’t told it to anyone, but I am sure it’s him. When I told him, we both were shocked. He didn’t call me up for a week. It’s still sinking in. Finally, I gave in. I would have told you once everything would have been settled.”
A stunned silence befell between them. He fell back on the chair. A bolt from the past had come and hit him. He was out and, He was in. He lost his temper, fewer words, and more expressions came out.
He felt a revulsion against her from with in. He wanted to get back at her. He wanted to be so, so bad. Hurt her, in ways only which he could. He wanted to be bad, so desperately.
Still, he couldn’t.
All along he knew, someday this would happen. They were poles apart, two sides of the coin. But still they were somehow the same, like internally two sides of the coin are attached. Her one sentence had cut the coin into two.
He was angry. Angry at what or whom, he did not know. Was it her or was it her choice or was it his own fault of accepting what had to happen. Somewhere, something died between them. They would not, and could not be the same.
Well, it’s going to be an awkward time from now on. Betrayal hurts. When close friends betray, it cuts, worse than a knife. Is it betrayal or is it his over estimation of a person. May be, it was the latter. He was an open person. Nothing was hidden. But may be people are not like that. They tell what is asked. May be it was time for him to change.
He looked at the road. It continued till it blurred into the horizon. He picked up his bag, patted the dust off, and took out a small knife, cut his life mantra on to a rock. Another milestone, which he would remember someday, sitting and smiling about. Surely he would.
Dedicated to
The Lives I have Lived
The Deaths I have Died
And
The Women I have Loved.

He wrote, and walked away into the horizon.

Silent Whispers

2004-06-04T17:44:00.000+05:30

She was sleeping on her train seat. Her face was so perfect. She seemed so much in peace with herself. He couldn’t help but look at her and how she exuded pure serenity. His palm on his face, his eyes glued to her, there was a faint smile of disbelief on his lips. How could someone be so beautiful?
She seemed to sense his question, her eyes opened a little. She saw him sitting beside and looking at her. Astonished, turning her face she silently looked back, still holding the thought, “What are you doing?”
He was so much in awe of her that on seeing her awake he still couldn’t turn away. He kept on looking at her. And then the quizzical expression came on her face. He blushed. She had found his secret. He looked at her, smiled, as if telling her, “The same as always.” And he kept on staring at her.
She saw the expression on him, understood what he wanted to say. She smiled, in happiness and in all the possibilities it opened for them, and then closed her eyes again, went back to sleep.
He kept on looking at her, his palm on his face, still thinking what had he done? He hadn’t been able to tell her how much he loved her, for over a year. And now, even without speaking, he knew that she understood. Silence had spoken what words couldn’t. He looked out of the window, at the lonely moon in the night sky, thinking how much he loved her.

Ramblings of A Confused Mind

2004-06-04T17:42:00.000+05:30

He lay there battered and bruised under scorching sun. Unable to move he was in terrible pain. He could not even raise his hands. Sweat mixed with blood from his wounds trickled all over him. He could not think of anything. Only what seemed to be comprehensible was the severe pain he felt all over. Apart from the pain, which he now felt a part of himself; he was at complete peace with himself and his surroundings.
And suddenly his world began to tremble. His whole body was shaking now. His mind trying to re-collect and re-examine his current state. Where was he and what was this trembling and shaking all about?
As if someone heard his mind’s plea, there was a loud whistle. Was there a train approaching? What was a train doing here? Where was he? And then he saw a green light. It…it was a signal for an approaching train. Oh God, he was on a train track. This realization brought back the pain he had till now found a part of his existence. He could barely open his eyes. They were swollen. Using immense will power he opened his eyes. He saw a train turn towards where he way lying. It seemed to be a super fast.
He tried to shout, but he could not. He did not have the energy. Tried raising his hands, but they wouldn’t leave the ground. The hot train tracks burning into him. His legs were not responding. He felt immense pain and remorse at himself.
He wanted to react to the situation. But what would that yield? The pain again seemed to go into the background. His mind became clear. He had a choice to make. Either he would try to get off the track and save himself or he would let the train run him over and finish all misery once and for all. He had to decide this, and that too fast as the train had turned the corner and was coming nearer and nearer. The whistles of the engine getting louder.
He closed his eyes trying to think. Suddenly, as if in a slide show, the pictures of his life came dancing in front of him. He saw his childhood. His parents. Remembered their aspirations. He saw his school. His friends. His first date and the movies. He saw the wrong decisions he made, and why he was where he was right now. And as soon as he thought that, the pain became excruciating. He opened his eyes and saw the train even closer. The whistle louder and piercing.
But there was no way to get out of the current mess. Part of him wanted to end it all. Finish it off, once and for all. People would cry for a few days and then they would lead their lives. With the amount of pain he was in, the crushing of his bones by the incoming train would not even feel much. Or may be he would suffer an arrest from the shock. He was realizing what death was like. He was seeing the difference between life and death. And as far as he thought of his current self, there wasn’t much of a difference.
He weighed his options. He could not move his body an inch. Would someone come crashing down like an angel and take him off the track or would the train stop. But these things only happened in movies. Not in real life. He was destined to die here.
But somewhere inside him, someone wanted to live and show the world what he was made up of. He was a born fighter. A person who came back from the ruins like a Phoenix. He would fight and get over his despair. He wanted to live.
The voices of within were getting as loud as the whistle of the approaching train. But now he had an answer. He wanted to live. He wanted to fight. He tried to move his legs but could not. Using all his power, he was trying to trudge his way out. His body was not co-operating, but he tried on. The train was now even closer. Using his elbows he tried to trudge, but could not. And the anguish became so much that he resigned to die here on the track. He closed his eyes, remembered his parents and God. And with Elvis’s song on his lips, he closed his eyes.
“Good bye mama, pray for me………. I was the black sheep of the family……….a hundred miles ………miles…….from home.”
The tracks were shaking because of the incoming super fast. He was waiting for the pain to end. But why was it taking so long? Why does this moment of truth have to be in slow motion? And then there was a shrieking sound. This must be it, he thought. But still the pain persisted. He tried hard to open his eyes. The train was passing in front of him. He was on the other track.
Tears rolled down his eyes. He tried to smile. The pain was easing out. He shouted in ecstasy. Miracles do happen. He had been given this new lease of life. Now nothing could happen. He lay there feeling himself getting better. The tracks were still trembling but he paid no heed to it. What a relief, he was alive. He would go back and create a new world. He lay there getting his strength back.
And then came a loud shrieking noise. He felt a big thud. And after that nothing. The signal of his track was green.