Kya baat hai..

An SMS that was sent by Vaishali few days back, that I really liked:

Kitabon ke panno ko palat ke sochti hun
Yun palat jaye zindagi meri toh kya baat hai

Khwabon mein mujhe har roz milta hai jo
Hakeeqat mein mil jaye toh kya baat hai

Kucch log matlab ke liye dhundte hain mujhe
Bin matlab jo koi aaye toh kya baat hai

Katal karke toh sab le jayenge dil mera
Koi baaton se le jaye toh kya baat hai

Apne rehne tak toh khushi main dungi sabko
Gar kisi ko meri maut ke bad bhi khushi mil jaye toh kya baat hai

India's encounter with Terror

Nothing can be said about the Bombay terror attack that would be enough to explain or describe the gruesome incident. The sheer audacity of the terrorists to lay out such a well thought out plan in action in the financial capital of the country is more agitating than anything else.Sadly one realises that in the past half year, the number of such incidents and the speed of their moving closer to one's doorstep has been on a continuous rise, and unfortunately has kind of made us (and I do not want to look at the government /politicians as a separate body here) - "complacent" towards them.
That 60 odd hours of horror,blood,fight and counter-fight on the streets of a democratic nation,has to be witnessed,that a constant coverage by the media ( whether true to the spirit of media or sensationalist cannot be commented in this sensitive time), that a fleeing of the visiting England team (when a day before it was our Indian cricketers refusing to tour Pakistan for the same reason), that a 'demonsatrtion by the Bombay-ites protesting against the government' and several such blog posts,citizen comments and media bytes would RESULT in anything, still needs to be seen.And it is here that the agitation and restlessness within every individual may not get a positive, collective, solution- oriented vent if not channelised properly.
Two nights of sleepless helplessness,shock and grief has left me so disturbed that it is difficult to imagine how the people caught in the midst of it all would have handled it. And what infuriated me further, was the way the Media and guests invited to join their discussions kept mentioning the "Spirit of Bombay"- Is there truly any "Spirit" that is being glorified here, does any Bombay-ite - socialite, hawker or service personnel have any other option??? Do the citizens of the country, be it a Delhi witnessing blasts or a Jaipur temple being targeted, or a series of blasts haunting Assam, have an option but to resume their daily life- either as a submission to the 'practical requirements of life' or 'the inevitability of it all with no solution ever coming since time immemorial'?! To make it a feel good
factor by calling it the SPIRIT of Bombay,is using the people's tenacity or helplessness as an easy veil
to hide behind..and not something I as a citizen would want to allow.
I still wish I knew what is to be done- not just the resignation of a Union Minister, not just a strategic "Crisis Management Cell" or a "RAW & Counter Terrorism Cell" but a committed, collective STRONG indication to nip this ruthless terrorising in the bud, and find a Solution to the misplaced mindset of these people( Even as a person belonging to a similar age group as the perpetrators of this crime, I was just not able to understand what would or could make them internalise terror to the extent of brutally spattering it around)
As my brain refuses to stop thinking about it, and my heart feels immensely grief-stricken, I hope that as I battle all of this with my day-to-day demand of job and life (to sell biscuits even on a Sunday because of the corporate target pressure), and as each of us would be forced to, this time around a solution be found, and personal prioirities do not push the complacency back to the forefront.

Ye kaisa rang hai?

And I cannot help but wonder why anyone would 'color' me "Mercury"..........................

Moment of Cricket for India...and me

This post comes two days late, but that is what my Data Card, that refused to work for these two days,decided...

Monday the 10th was a very moving "cricket" moment for me,after quite a long time,after we won the T20 World Cup I would say.As Harbhajan pulled out the wicket,displaying the passionate acknowledgement of winning a series that not only was pronounced as the "Battle of Life between Titans" but had created a frenzy, even bigger than an India-Pakistan series (as even MSD stated),it was a feeling of deep pride and satisfaction sinking in.And what a way to bring back the Border-Gavaskar Cup after 5 long years...what a sweeping off of the series with 2-0 and a good 172 runs win in the second test. But the moment that brought tears to my eyes, was when MSD motioned Kumble to join him in holding the Cup-befittingly so- and few moments later, Bhajji and Ishaan lifted Dada from the field into the dressing room. The fact that two legends had announced their signing off from the game, the reality that never would I be able to see my favorite bowler in his controlled passion take a wicket and humbly smile, or the skipper I rate as THE Indian to introduce aggression into the players of cricket (before which the spectators definitely beat them to it!) swerve the ball past surprised fielders to the boundary, hit me hard.
I was reminded of how these legends in a way defined that stage of my life, during my schooling years, when I was a cricket crazed fan, and in a way their moving away made that tense reality come closer home: of my growing old :)

Jane woh kaise log the

Jane woh kaise log the jinke pyaar ko pyaar mila
Humne toh jab kaliyan mangi, kanton ka haar mila

Bichhad gaya har saathi de kar pal do pal ka saath
Kisko fursat hai jo thame deewano ka haath
Hum ko apna saya tak,aksar bezaar mila
Humne toh jab kaliyan mangi, katon ka haar mila
Jane woh kaise log the jinke pyaar ko pyaar mila

Isko hi jeena kehte hain toh,yun hi jee lenge
Uff na karenge,lab see lenge,ansoo pi lenge
Ghum se ab ghabrana kaisa...Ghum sau baar mila

Humne toh jab kaliyan mangi, katon ka haar mila
Jane woh kaise log the jinke pyaar ko pyaar mila

Centre Stage

Saw the movie "Centre stage" today - about Ballet Dance
Till date a movie about dance has never failed to stand a place in my good opinion. The sheer ecstasy,that just watching a dance -even on celluloid packed in a Laptop screen- can bring is unparalleled.The grace of the moves, the poise, the harmony and the almost ethereal delight which the dancers (Actors) displayed was so moving.
And somehow, I was reminded of my first childhood dream- of becoming a dancer/choreographer...may be I still keep it tucked away in that corner of my heart,which has managed to remain unsoiled by the burden of prosaicness and worldliness..and which my "heart-over-head yet middle class" persona would hopefully someday transform into something meaningful: may be opening a dance school - even if not in a teacher's capacity.
I must admit, after watching that movie I could not stop myself from shaking a leg or two...if only this one thing that gives me so much joy could become everything for me..if only I could dance my way through life..if only I could Dance till I die..
and dance alone could become the "Centre Stage" of my life..........

Diwali at the doorstep::celebrations around::??within

While I was returning from Chennai last evening, was wondering how beautiful the sky would look if one landed on the day of Diwali, with crackers adorning the sky- and as I neared Madurai, I was lucky to behold the scene- the city resplendent with lights and the skies offering themselves for visually captivating celebration of the festival of lights- this view from the flight- breathtaking..I have always believed, that the joy brought by festivities, is one of its kind- unparalleled in its simplicity, though associated with numerous complicated rituals - be it purchasing something two days before Diwali on Dhanteras(which for all all my efforts I have failed to, this year) or the correct method of Puja for the particular Festival.
It has been five years that I have been home to celebrate Diwali with my family- though I would not say that time has helped in mitigating the "need to celebrate" the authentic way, but yes when I was almost alone on Diwali in France, the year before last, the feeling was reduced with no body around knowing about the importance of the day- all we did was do a minor puja and cook a range of dishes, an aid in imagining we were a tag bit closer to India. Last year too there were four of us, caught in Bangalore and at the nth moment an invitation from a very senior person at work- one of our colleague's bosses, made the Diwali such an amazingly "close-to-home" feel with all the puja and delicious food. However, this year has not been great till now-though with my cousin Abhu coming tomorrow from Blore, has kindled a tiny ray of hope. It was almost a self hate feeling, when day before yesterday, while wishing everyone in office at Chennai and seeing the delight on people's faces, of going back to a home to enjoy the weekend and the festivity, I felt suddenly so much at a loss- almost deadened inside. Even after I am back at Madurai,and continue the 'novel reading-movies/sitcom watching-phone conversation-dancing/sketching' way of enjoying my own company on a Sunday, the crackling sound outside accompanied by the delighted shrieks of kids, and the aroma of festival goodies being fried, I somehow feel very very alone..unable to rationalise being here ..and grappling at finding something that stops my dangerous acquaintance "tears" from commencing their descent..
But to all of you having a good Diwali- the likes of my married batchmates celebrating their first "married diwali"-or most of the others who are at home:
May the lights herald a new beginning
Of joys untold and unimagined
Of Success,Health and Prosperity
And peace of mind to enjoy it all

Wishing all of you and your families,
A VERY HAPPY and SAFE DEEPAWALI.

P-A-R-E-N-T-S

It is when you are almost convinced you are completely in control of your emotions, that an unimaginable, unexplained surge of pain ,sometimes in the form of tears, or even the heaviness that seems to pull your heart down to your very toe, belittles your emotional confidence.
Almost six years have passed, since I first left home, to explore the environs outside the cushiony walls of parental care, to pursue higher education.Back then, it was some kind of force that propelled me to take such a decision, and more importantly, live by it. Despite every such motivating pull,I was a home-sick kid, who shed tears every time I left home after the vacation. As wise people say, these are symtoms of most children,when they leave home for the first time, and things always mellow down, once a 'home away from home' is found in the golden relationship called "friendship". Ditto for me.In fact, B-School provided me much more than I ever expected-may be dangerously so-.

But when day before yesterday, the train that was to take my parents to Chennai, from where they were to move to Ranchi, started to pull away, I felt that upsurge of painful realisation that their five day trip was over, of having to walk into an empty house again, of dancing my way to cooking (to force myself to enjoy it)- and all of this just melted into tears that started rolling down as if they would never stop. Every step I took towards the exit of the platform was as if with the heaviest stone tied to my foot.The comfort and warmth exuded by the sheer presence of family, of parents, that can never really be substituted,that dissolves all the confused feelings of frustration and irritation that a day's work may bring on,or blooms a good piece of work into a lilly,when it might just be a colourful leaf, by the appreciation showered by them(which the Boss may never come around to do) - in short- the all encompassing feeling of emotional security.However, I wonder how many times one has the courage to mention this to the people who make it happen for us..to express how much it means to have our parents enquire about our day/week,their genuine interest in the mundane to the significant, anything to do with' us';while we act pricy by giving abridged versions of our stories, or hold conversations with a "I know it all" attitude when discussing something important...of how much a single pat on the head, or one bear hig, means a world of happiness that one may shy away from ever accepting..
I hope to do it well and good, some day...soon
While for now- here I am alone again, spending my Sunday with a lappie gorging on the 3rd season of "How I met your Mother" and the muted television in the background,an artificial semblance of company at home!!

Musings on a Sunday afternoon

My Sunday afternoon naps usually are very abrupt and fraught with lot of unrelated incidents dancing around each other as if celebrating the connections, that only my subconscious mind has been privileged with the capability to derive.

So was today, almost like a roller coaster ride, just like this month till now has been- a pendulum-like travel between extremes- when I started the month with quite a disaster at work questioning my self-defined abilities and the like, but was in a way surprised by help that poured in, as some was totally from unexpected quarters.But my first Sunday was graced with a trip that gave me those very precious and seldom experienced "Moment" of sheer unadulterated and pure Joy- the breeziness associated with being in a dream- when I stood in front of the Athirapally Falls (near Cochin)- with that wide expanse and beam of water powerfully hitting the river below, and standing some metres away from it, on a slippery rock, I could feel every sinew and tip of my body drenched with the watery wind.Just did not feel like returning from there, but good things come to an end, all too soon, so did the Sunday, and the week ensued with more work and official visits of people to Madurai. However, my long awaited and looked forward to holiday was still there- my Pune Bombay visit.

Well, I was tipped that my holiday may get cancelled, since it was timed ill with a certain crucial decision at work- but thankfully (at least for once I can thank) it was not cancelled, and as I boarded the flight to Bombay, the last phone call from the all-to-be at work did make me realise the holiday is going to be quite a lot like "work from home", but I didnt mind. I landed at the Bombay airport, and henceforth till I reached Dadar to take the bus to Pune, I was on the crucial call- my heart was racing inside me as I forced my brain to hear every golden word being discussed between the big brains of TN. The bus journey to Pune was also, a miniature of "work while travel and anticipations to meet Deepti after a year"- and what a feeling it was to see her when her Swift came to pick me up near Parihar Chowk. From then on, the three days that followed, were bliss, especially after Verma and Dada joined us. Our Lonavla trip- the beauty around (reminding me of Europe a bit), the Vada Pav (what a relief to eat that again) at Joshi Vadawala's- the drive with the drizzle that made it heavenly,the getting wet- literally drenched at the Bushi Dam, and finally figuring out a way to get the Walnut Fudge from Coopers!! Watching Rock On with four others who had already seen it, especially Sourab who was watching it the thrid time (trust his taste to like that movie so much!!) and the "bakar at CCD" college ishtyle that followed it.

But the last leg of the trip was a little disappointing with the Ganpathy visarjan making me immobile in Bombay and I not being able to meet Harshit and Deepu, whom I was really looking forward to paying a visit to.The trip was an eye opener for me, in many ways that I can express in a partially public forum like this, of the minor realisations (or rather re-realisations) of what I am missing out by leading this all-alone life to the first hand gruelling truth of what our country is moving to - almost making me dreadfully draw a parallel to the novel i was reading then - The Kite Runner- and the country it is set in- if this is what India is choosing for its future, I do not know how long I can sit in inaction in the niche cage of a managerial position of corporate India.

Return to work after that has been a further drawing away from the happy state of being- how attempts at rationalisation and professional(read joyless stone-like) behavior can keep failing unless the spark of self motivation tugs one on. And I have been forced to wonder time and again, if work in itself is a dampener for all- that there cannot be anything as "complete job satisafction" or that I am somehow a misfit in this "corporate culture". The other day I made a colleague of mine the victim of my discomfort and bad mood, which made me introspect later, that when have the tide of things changed so much that I expose my inner feelings so seamlessly to people around,occupying a vulnerable space- or was I always like this, albeit in a much safer and placented zone among friends and well-wishers, and it is only now that I feel like a lost child out in the open??!! Such are the wanderings of my subconcious mind during Sunday afternoon naps...but another Sunday is about to get over soon....I better catch up on something interesting...apart from my list of phonecalls [Thank God I have friends who keep calling me up often :) ]

Like Shivi of 2005 wrote these

"Ankhon mein jiske koi to khwab hai..

khush hai wohi jo thoda betaab hai...

Zindagi mein koi arzoo kijiye...

Phir Dekhiye

Hoton pe jiske..koi toh geet hai..

woh hare bhi toh uski hi jeet hai...

Dil mein jo geet hai..gunguna lijiye..

Phir Dekhiye

Great line from FRIENDS (Phoebe again - the character I identify most with)- "People would believe anything you tell them, as long as it is a compliment"

I have still not managed to use the learning from this line: false compliments are still not my cuppa tea

RAJ giri@ Bachna Ae Haseeno

Saw Bachna Ae Haseeno...in Chennai..
Really irked me..in more ways than one- may be it was the over simplified manner of "sinning- realising-asking forgiveness-being redeemed" drama that made me almost smirk with the smugness that "I know it does not end that well in real life" .The swelling up resentment against the character of Ranbir kapur-aka Raj (how the namesake is morally-or rather amorally-different from the predecessor SRK Raj of Yashraj films!), the frivolity of treating another human being's feelings, almost making me realise I was not hating him alone,rather seeing the reflection of something, or somebody in his character.
But i wonder how film makers can make a genuinely potential story for understanding the web of human emotions and feelings,almost a fable- with divine justice being met out to the boy who breaks hearts of women- calling it "Killer Raj giri" , to finally end up in love with a woman, who would refuse to have him, because she is living to an ideal image of a superwoman(I now wonder how stringent is the 'academic rigor' in an Australian B-School, to leave so much time for multiple jobs!), whose scheme of things do not leave space for a man/marriage.
It pained me to see how anybody could show a man who has wronged/caused so much hurt to two women, have the audacity to believe that a mere begging for forgiveness & the sorries of the world, would set things right or turn the course of events that happened in the past. To me,it appeared only a selfish act of seeking redemption when there cannot be any because the person who has been hurt can never get that unhurt feeling or the unchanged future back. May be Mahi was plain lucky (it being a movie) to have a husband whom she deserved more than the guy who she loved and was cheated by, but not everyone who does not have the influence of such an optimistic Director would have that luck. (Btw Kunal Kapur, even in the turban, was a treat to watch- simply because his acting outshone everybody else's , especially the atrocious lip & teeth gritting dialogue delivery of Mimisha Lamba)
Though the character of Raj does philosophise in the end about " The past being something you cannot change, but the future finally depending on what you do Today" , i walked out of the cinema hall with an unsettling feeling -how much does the future actually remain unaffected by such a painful past.
No answers...and i know why..may be i am taking it too personally ...or may be i know "being there", and wishing i had a Kunal Kapur to look forward to :P

The first penned thoughts

Months of brooding depression
Living with only An impression
The voice, the touch, the sheer presence
Whatever was spoken and its essence

Nothing seems to die down in the heart
I can’t even figure out its very start

Every object reminds me of him
A song, a place, a photo becomes a pain
Hope keeps struggling with the truth of fact
Memories complicate the present with the past

Nothing seems to die down in the heart
I can’t even figure out its very start

Love I never thought I was capable of
Big words: Loyalty, Devotion and thereof
Ideas of Romanticism all that were
Never thought a man could fit with them there

But I did fall in love as I call it
Found it through friendship as I knew it
Ended up with such a big Investment
Every sinew still cries Commitment

Nothing seems to die down in the heart
I can’t even figure out its very start

The bane of loving without reciprocation
Yet that exists with no replication
When Friendship is lost and all communication
It’s alive in my soul, beyond comprehension


Nothing seems to die down in the heart
I can’t even figure out its very start

But living alone for a while now
I have gotten used to that fate somehow
New melodies have begun to attract me
And lives of other people occupy me

I want to bring love back in my life
Someone who’s meant to be by my side
I am ready for a risk again
Hoping to find a balm to my pain

Yes, Nothing seems to die down in the heart
I can’t even figure out its very start
But how does it matter
I can faintly hear my heart singing
One ending’s enough for another beginning

Created on 12/18/2007 8:44:00 PM

And begin it did, I took the risk again
But what a balm was it to my pain!
A friendship between people so alike
That blossomed well and everything felt so right

Something seemed to be born in my very heart
Yet I couldn’t figure again when it did start

From brief talks to long discussions
Every topic somehow became a conversation
What kept getting longer were our phone sessions
And those hourly updates with the S-M-S function

Something seemed to be born in my heart
I couldn’t figure out its very start

But as the famous saying goes "Somethings never change"
Be it my luck or the pain of being again alone
To relive any such experience seems dreadful now
And yet voices in my head shout aloud
Parents, friends, relatives who do not know
That a relationship is as scary as desirable for me now...

Wish could turn back time and change
The past that lurks loomingly on the safety of the present
And someday live the dreams I cherished
Find love, that lasts and grows by the day.................

The rest Created on 20/04/2008 7:00 PM

Our trip: Kodai and Munar it was...

So the one thing I had been looking for, from the time I have been in Madurai, is also finally over.
After about 2 weeks of being posted in Madurai, Sourav, Srinivasan and I had started planning for the 15th August weekend trip, and zeroed in on Kodaikanal. Well, beyond that I should not be taking the credit for any planning because right from the task of bookings to the tougher one of convincing people (which included starting an email chain with bollywood ishtyle dramatic lines of : "at the crossroads of life.."), and enthusing the mailing list individuals, was shared majorly between Sourav and Srini. I remember how in the usual hectic work day , I waited to open gmail at the end of the day, or sometimes during it, to read some comment that someone interested in the plan has left.
In a way, I was apprehensive about the trip right from the beginning, because in a way, everyone had been in touch with each other after we had passed out in 12th, everyone had been meeting each other on and off- I was the person who had not only left the place physically , but somehow also lost touch with most (Sourav being my sole point of contact with their lives at least)- and i was feeling like i would do a mini Prodigal returning through this trip.
After about two and a half months of planning, we had 7 people finalised for the trip, and 5 people finally being able to make it ( Our very own over burdened Indian railways did not help much resulting in the absence of the other two, who remained Wait Listed on the train and ..the trip).
And the three days thence- from the night out bakars- i was surprised we did open up despite the time gap, all at once- to the travel time singing (or call it producing entertaining noise) , from Kodai to Munar- to the fireplace talks in our beautiful (over big for the final number) cottage, and palm reading in half consciousness- shouting "Rooock Ooon" at the echo point as if trying to leave a mark: we came, we shouted and echoed- it was FUN all the way.We also did manage to have really intense conversation and discussion on issues that plagued us all (the quantum varying for each)- the social obligations of dowry and rituals involved in marriage, the burden of being the " generation in flux" that is neither here nor there on most matters of such social consequences, where an individual desires change but is caught in the complicated web of how to bring it about.
But the Highest point of my trip (the question that Amol posed at me during our 'spin the bottle' game) was when while walking through the most important tourist attraction places in Kodai, called Coakers Walk, we ended up singing (all too loudly), all the TV serial/soap Title tracks of our childhood, the few but memorable ad jingles of the time, the shloka of the Mahabharata and the famous(even enacted by Srini and Sriram at the point) scene from Shaktiman...we were just short of earning money, and as Dad suggested later, we shouldve utilised it for funding some part of our trip :P
Notwithstanding the Post trip blues and almost paralysing effect of the memories on work, I just realised how much such trips mean to me and are precious, not to be missed while the age and opportune time lasts.

..Jhonka sa..

After about one and a half years,i heard the song from Fanaa: " Dekho na"
I had kept my self away from it, deciding that it was a better idea to just let it fade away with time..like so many other things..and had convined myself that it wasnt such a song that burying it in a deep grave would do much harm...and then today, somehow, as i flipped channels settling on V, and got back to work, it started..the tiny ringlets of water floating around with the soft float of that serene and pure music.
The song seemed like a new one, i did not remember the turns of the melody and the intermittent unisons of the instruments;even the words eluded me-but as the song progressed, it slowly started coming back to me-when I was in love with the song, and many other facets of life,when I recognised every string attached to it,when i hummed it in all my evening and night walks...
Was a pleasant and benumbing 5 minutes of the song...but i have quickly shifted to another,lest somthing so painfully tucked away in the cobwebbed corners of my memory, pushes itself out into the still vulnerable present.

Finally cleaned my Scooty, that I got sent from home (its one of my few school possessions still with me :) ), and rode it today. Cutting through the breeze, and almost curfewed road(Sunday wears that look in Madurai), it was the taste of freedom like good old school days. Of not totally being at the behest of destiny, of being able to go wherever i wish to (literally) and hold my own reigns.
One ride does it all !!!

"Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam, tum rahe na tum, hum rahe na hum..

..Jayenge kahan kuchh pata nahi,
Chal pade magar rasta nahi
Kya talash hai kuchh pata nahi
Bun rahe hai din khwab dam badam...

Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam, tum rahe na tum, hum rahe na hum.."

"If life doesnt make you laugh,you just dont get the joke"

Planned a market visit to Karaikudi today, for which I set off in the morning, keeping my arrival time to be
9:30am through an hour and a half's travel from Madurai to Karaikudi(as everyone had told me). However,
after almost 2 and a half hours of wobbly back breaking journey (the roads in Maharashtra were definitely
much better), I reached my Chettinad Distributor's stock point. It felt like walking into some other era, the
house was what typically is shown as a South Indian house in movies, with very high ceilings, falsely
thatched in some areas, the nondescript "jhula" , the daunting garlanded photographs of various Gods and
Goddesses all around; and mind it, this was Not his house, but the stock point which has seen Biscuits being
bought and sold ,for the past 50 years.
Market visits always tend to confuse me. As in , if I am an ASM, what is the basic purpose of a my visiting the
market. At this stage of my territory handling, it is about understanding the subtle (or glaringly big)
differences in my territory, from one area to another; some may argue it is required for being in touch with
the actual happenings, vis-a-vis competition or one's own standing; I still feel all this can be gauged, by
spending more time per shop, rather than visiting more shops, and may be by spreading one's coverage
area.Anyways, as my mind raced through all this,while I walked from shop to shop, my musical heart would not
rest unless it successfully played a silent song ( a lot of times its timed very ill), "Mere man ye bata de tu, kis
or chala hai tu,kya paya nahi tune, kya dhund raha hai tu.." , making all my existential queries all the more
emphatic.
But ironies do not stop in life ever. So as I walked to one shop on the College Road beat of Karaikudi, my
senses picked a fragrance, that, for a split second, transported me back to the supermarket near our
apartment in Nice, France, called "Casino Supermarche" which by some strange coincidence would have
smelled the same in one of its ailes.
Weird is a word not enough when such experiences keep happening...
Also, when your mother tells you that 08-08-08 is being discussed all over the news channels (who never
seem to have enough for 24*7, but these analyses), so please be careful, and you brush all of it aside, till
your innocent market visit has a mini-adventure, as your car breaks down in the midst of dark wilderness,
and you are with a driver who cannot communicate in the language you understand. But as my mother
would explain, I had managed to visit a famous temple near Karaikudi (every place here has a famous
temple), and God did help me sail out of my mini adventure without much ado.
Truly Shantaram seems so perfectly right when he says : " If life doesnt make you laugh, you just dont get the
joke"

Women in Indian Army

One piece of news(in the midst of all the tension in the country right now), that made my heart skip,was the announcement that women would now be eligible for Permanent Commission in the Indian Army.After almost 20 years of experimentation with different modes of employing women, the Indian Army has finally opened its doors to women beyond the Short Service Commission, making them at par with men in the services..almost...because it is still non combative..may be some day The Indian Army would open that front too..just hope this time it does not take 20 years.

Bridge across..

Its a hectic working day in the depot today,with the usual reports and communications that have to be made and sent, it being the beginning of the month.

However, somehow, right in the midst of the formats and excel sheets staring at me from my laptop,this came back to me..all in one...(something that I had scribbled on the white board in Jai and Bhobe's room, in 1st year of MDI-don't even remember, in what frame of mind I was when I wrote it):

“ When this world does not seem to work,
the weariness is too much to bear,
yet the mind pulls those strings-of consciousness,
to remain here,
I could only make that journey
to another plane of being
and cross that bridge..
…..the bridge across forever.”

///Friendship///

Thanks to "CNN IBN" which reminded me through some hilarious comments made by Cyrus Broacha that its Friendship Day today, I wasnt taken by surprise when I woke up to find so many "Friendship day" forwards sitting in the Message Inbox of my Cell phone.
I did chat with some of my friends today- thats not something unusual, some part of my Sunday generally goes in telephonic conversations, most with friends-but today I spoke to Neetisha after a long time (except for the short call I made the day when I heard of Blore blasts). Its weird how Neetisha and I have been good friends from MDI , but in terms of the time we have spent together, in each other's company, it has not been much. The best part is, whenever I close my eyes and remember moments with her, the image that comes to mind is of her immaculately clean room in MDI (in 2nd year) and our times in the Airport Raod Pizza Hut..instead of days of MDI!!
Which brings me to a point that somehow I woke up thinking (before actually realising today is Friendship Day) by strange coincidence- what does Friendship actually mean? As in,there may be several ways of expressing a bond that is more precious or special than any other, but does it come with its baggage of expectations like other human relationships do?? Does it also have that oft dreaded and confusing word called "committment" attached to it? Or of a Time frame to it? Because in my experiences (and I am always accused by my mother, to have "so many friends" ), I have had the most complicated and unexpected ends to the most cherished and closest friendships I had, so much so , that I am not even aware of the other person's current scenario in life, from being pals who knew the happenings of the nth minute in each other's lives. So much for all the concern and closeness shared and the most treasured gift of a true friendship- of understanding the unspoken.

May be the true test of any relationship, be it a friednship, is the test of time;may be its only the situation when it mattered, or may be its plain destiny.
At this moment, can sum it up in this SMS I read today-
"EK din zindagi aise mukam pe pahunch jayegi, Dosti to sirf yadon mein reh jayegi Har cup coffee doston ki yaad dilayegi Aur hanste hue ankh nam ho jayegi Office chamber mein classroom ki tasveer ban jayegi par chahne par bhi proxy nahi lag payegi Paisa toh bahut hoga lekin use lautane ki wajah hi kho jayegi
Jee le is pal ko mere dost..kyunki zindagi is pal ko fir nahi dohrayegi"

Such a beautiful thought:
"Tu kahe toh tere hi kadam ke main nishano pe, chalun,ruku isharo pe
Tu kahe toh khwabon ka bana ke main bahano sa, mila karun sirhane pe"

That is why lyrics of Bollywood songs, though not taken seriously by some, never cease to enchant me..
and this song has that lilting haunting quality about it, one can only feel it right in the sinews, if one were to play it at high volume with lights switched off or dimmed, and every other thought about work or the mess in life pushed into a far corner of the mind.

Khuda jaane ki main fida hun.....Khuda jaane mein mit gaya...Khuda jaane ye kyun hua hai..ki..

Aisa bhi hota hai

Life never ceases to surprise us..not for the big changes only, but even in the small, least expected bends in the road.

So as I actually battle the language problem each day (and now explaining everything at least twice with elaborations, has become a norm),I never expected that the auto guy whom I have fixed for going to the depot in the morning, and with whom I share a "dont understand a word spoken by the other but a business transaction exists" relationship, would have as his ringtone ..guess what..a popular hindi song, from the old times of my adolescence "Tujhe dekha to ye jana sanam"!!

Aisa bhi hota hai..I hope i get more ,and better Pleasant surprises :)

We do not find a book, rather a book finds us...??

Have been tempted for some time to simply write my views on the books I have finished in the last two weeks (and typically this blog should have preceeded the earlier one). Its quite unlike me to read a book and forget it as soon as I shut it .Not only does my mind keep wandering over it, I take the liberty of discussing it with a lot of people also. Some may think this is beating the book (a simple enthralling narrative) to death, but during my Literature days I realised how just reading the story in a book is like drinking the water in a coconut and missing on the soft, yummy "malai" inside. which at least I am very fond of.
During my last visit to Chennai(this is the monthly regional meet), I bought two books- Brida by Paulo Coelho, and P.S I love you by Cecilia Ahern. The latter was the one I picked up to read first, for it had been suggested by quite a few people, all having the common rider : " YOU would love it because its YOUR kind of a novel". I usually tend to take such display of confidence in my taste, by others, as a challenge (or may be simplistic method) to find what is it that "I would so definitely like"!!P S I Love You, for me had an uncanny resemblance to Kuch Kuch Hota hai, for both have letters bridging the gap between the alive and the past of the dead. The novel had nothing new in it, and precisely that would be the reason it went ahead to become such a popular novel- talking about small things that anyone who has even remotely felt being in love, would identify with, and definitely anyone who has undergone the pain of separation, of any form, would swear by. Its easy to go on and on about a book - and end up expressing opinions as long as the book- but for me what touched me most about the book was the way my mind (or rather heart) shifted through the novel. I started by feeling this "spree of identification" with everything the protaganist mentioned, with grief overwhelming my heart and tears wetting the pages of the book. However as Gerry's letters brought something to look forward to in Holly 's life and transformed memories from dreaded recollections to sweet remembrances, I started feeling the same- almost spreading a smile on my tear stained face..even tempting me to thank people who made some of those memories.
The second novel was Brida, which I carried during my tour to Nagercoil. I am not a fan of Coelho in any way, in fact it is one writing style, I find has the most potential to destroy the purpose of philosophy, by being so vulgarly blatant about it. However, it does not hinder me from reading them purely as a "source of information" of the various principles. Brida is a book that talks at length about Irish Mysticism, about the Tradition of the Sun and the Tradition of the Moon, the magic of the forms of existence of a woman and the search that interests every human being at some point in her/his life- that of a Soulmate.I would refrain from saying whether there is justice done to the principles or not, but I did get hooked on to the book as if my life depended on it-- and the 5 hour train journey at least had 4 hours of enriching support. Was reminded of 3rd year during my Literature studies in LSR, when SC (the prof) used to teach Yeats and his use of Irish Mysticism- be it the phases of the moon concept or the Symbology used. These discussions used to almost bewitch me and so Brida for me was peeling another layer of that onion.
My third book was "Acts of Faith" by Erich Segal. I had somehow never read Erich Segal books beyond Love Story, though its one of my favorite. But with Erich Segal books being easily available in e-versions, I ended up downloading some and hence reading them. Against all that is said about the "pulp" nature of his books, I found depth in the simplicity of his narration and style- be it "The Class" (which I read a month back) where the simplest and most common thing - a batch of students, coming from different areas of life, dreams and confidence in their hearts and difference in expectations during college and actual realities on the other side of the college boundary wall, is depicted in the most readable, enjoyable and yet thought provoking manner.So is the case with "Acts of Faith" that juggles between the fundamentals of the two warring religions -the Jewish faith and Christianity and how the simple truth of humanly love is denied by the most profound preachers of priestly and spiritual love. The ending was a true feel good, love overcomes all, Bollywood-ish typicality , but at least in this case, that is what provided justice to the 500 pages before it- at least it did for me- that the strings of the heart are not necessarily frivolous desires but may bring forth the most astounding truths of existence.


Now my Blore visit, (which I would do justice to through a separate post) also gave me the opportunity to buy few books-bought 7 for the moment, in no order of preference of reading, but simply letting my hand wander and pick them up...bacause somehow I have started believeing:
" We do not find a book, rather a book finds us..at a juncture in life, what is to be read may also not be solely our chocie?"

Konnection ho jaaye

Reminiscing my Bhubaneswar days ..when I used to ensure that every Saturday I convince Dad to buy the evening show tickets for the new movie on the block..and what a movie buff I have been ..Bollywwod ki pujaran style :) [the drama still exists]
And I do manage to relate and analyse a lot even in Bollywood movies..so its not surprising how, based out of a town in the southern state of Tamil Nadu, where I have not been able to spot a Hindi movie DVD(not even Moserbear versions), forget having a cinema hall screening Hindi movies,it pinches me to check out Zoom and Channel V (my lifelines here) for all the new movies coming up, but not be able to watch any!!!
And with my latest crush, Shahid Kapur, singing " Bakhuda Tumhi ho.." after every 5 minutes on Zoom, I am dying to watch the movie..thats a different thought that the couple of Vidya Balan and Shahid reminds me of something, rather of somepeople.
Right now just keeping my fingers crossed, to grace a cinema theatre for this one at least.."konnection ho jaaye....."

Overpowered by emotions....

To feel as humanly small as one can feel..to keep asking yourself what made you fall for all that,step into it knowing everything and ending up feeling unwanted and unimportant..and to be under this illusion that for that brief moment, you were actually happy, really truly happy..For as many haircuts you get, Brownies you eat,hang out with your friends or dance it away,every night you feel the pain in parts of your heart you never knew existed...and wake up with the fuzzy feel in your head that you dont know which part of time you are really in..To go to some other place, meet new people who make you feel important and worthwhile,and yet have those moments coming back to you every once in a while..that drinking and crying it out does not pour out the grief from within you ..and you only believe what people keep telling you-that Time will wear it away..just that you keep waiting for that Time ..which seems like Eternity..almost

I guess I am becoming stronger

I guess I am becoming stronger - emotionally that is.

There was a time I had given up music and dance...and this for a person like me translated to much, because both these arts almost define my life in a certain way..Why i had given them up was becuase of the painful memories they brought on me, considering the kind of associations I am capable of forming with a particular song...but there came a time when one of my very good friends egged me on to listen to those songs that caused the most pain, to create a sense of mundaneness around them and build new memories for them...Was almost impossible to follow this advice but I decided to try it at least...after almost about a year from this incident, today as I was busy making rotis in the kitchen, the sweet melody of one such song reached my ear and I almost turned to reach the Remote,when I decided Lets do this despite being alone here..Let me put this Test of "Managing Memories" without support from anyone else..and I managed to listen to the entire song, make Rotis without a single tear bordering my eye....

I Guess this is a good sign...that either I am hardening to the reality of the emotionless world, or am swimming out of the pool of deep memories..either way I wish it only helps

Another Arbit Observation

Was watching IIFA awards last night and as Mr.Aditya Narayan(Udit Narayan's cute son whose voice was the sole kid voice in playback in bollywood during the late 90s), who is now a smart,well dictioned and verbose anchor, was conducting the "Walking Into the IIFA" curtain raiser asking celebs what(read 'Who') they were dressed in,I happened to notice something- Most couples that walked on the Green carpet, had the man leading without any inkling of the woman being far behind, giving a feeling of they not walking in together or as a couple;or holding hands, such that again the man walking ahead almost gave the impression of pulling the lady into the show!!!

But there was one couple that at least walked together looking the most graceful in the process, and that was the super-hyped couple of Bollywood- Abhishek and Aishwarya...

And this definitely is one of my arbit observations, no bias or favor for Abhishek Bachhan :)

Tum se hi...Tum se hi...Shor mein khamoshi hai ..thodi si behoshi hai ..Tum se hi...

Aisa mehsoos karna ...kahan gaya...

I thought that with loving myself more and respecting myself more, I would love you less and forget those days that still pierce through the heart like the sharpest edge of a blade.......
I thought.........just thought.....

Setting up a ghar(or as Karan Johar would call it "Makan")

For once I could feel the import of the words Deepti (fondly called Pandeji) had once mentioned: I wish to get married so much from the fact that my expenses could be shared :)Bemused as some would be who have not faced this - I would remember this time of moving into a place,as quite an experience, purchasing small necessities to larger durables- things for the house that I am supposed to transform into a "ghar from makan" to justify to my mind that I am creating a work-"life" balance, or a semblance of it. With Mom being there last week, to set up things and make me want to come home after work (although there seems to be no "after" work in Sales),I was able to delay the acceptance of the staying alone reality of my job.But when yesterday I walked into my house in the morning, that hollowness almost choked me.So much so that a mere 5 days visit of my Mom made her presence such a logical and natural expectation of my heart,such that sleepy headed me still recognised my lone toothbrush in the holder and was jerked into my current reality.

Though there is absolutely no end to the work I have, and actually to write this post I have decided to postpone some of it to the morn of tomorrow,it is just what sums up all the small minutes that result in another day gone from my month (thats the classical way a Sales person thinks).Added to that is my stint at a superwomanly act by doing everything myself be it washing,cleaning house, cooking all times..woops..while I write it also I cannot believe I am talking about myself!

I just wonder if there were no books, how would I survive!!!!

Awaiting announcement for boarding my flight yesterday,somewhere the hallucinated 5:30 AM brain of mine started wondering what it would be like if there was a place like this airport, where we could sit and hear announcements being bombarded at us that sounded like: "Jet Age Airways announces its flight S XX to the year 1995 as ready for departure.Passengers travelling to the year 1995 by this flight are requested to board the flight through Gate No 3 on the Ground Floor.This Flight is a hopping flight and will stop at the year 2001 for 40 minutes only. As a special feature of our airlines, we allow passengers to get a peek of 2001 by alighting from the aircraft for not more than 20 minutes. Jet Age wishes all its passengers a happy journey into "13 years ago"!!

Guess this is what happens after racing through a hectic two day meeting being glued to your chair and making analysis and decisions, forgetting what the planned Agenda sheet actually mentioned..and coming out at 10.30 PM with the Minutes of the Meeting Sheet as a better judge of the efficacy of the meeting than contents assimilated by your brain!

::To see all the places I had walked when I was happy

:: And wonder when did all the laughter die

::When destiny became a dreaded word,

::Yet, the only constant part of life

Ghar ...aur ...Shauhar

Finally getting my posting,I have been doing House hunting for a while now..and the process somehow makes me think this sure must bear some similarity with the whole hunting(pun intended) for the right groom-an institution we call "Arrange marriage" in India. This might have a lot to do with my recent frequent situations when I,happening to run out of important things to update my mom about(albeit for a few seconds) find my mom slipping in
the "M" word in her ever so soft voice.Now I am not a full-blodded feminist who deosnt believe in marriage and loving a man phenomenon- I am all for people getting married whenever they want (or dont want) and to whoever they do. However, I somehow cannot digest this "Arr-ange"marriage concept-- of meeting people with that purpose in mind of selection/rejection (unnatural to the core!!) and taking decisions of compatibility basis an hour long conversation and may be a couple of telephonic chit-chats. I am not trying to be cynical about this whole thing and the happily arranged married couples need not spit venom or precious advice at me,I cannot imagine MYSELF as part of this whole process..but due to my recent transfer, as I went from one house to another figuring out where I could "accomodate" myself better I started finding a lot of possible similarity.

So not a single house brought the exclamation "WOW- This is it" , but I kept weighing, not the pros and the cons, but more than that the cons that I could live comparatively better with- in short- the problems/lacks i can "accomodate" or "compromise" with...does it sound familiar to the already married.
Anyways, since I have never sat through meeting a guy,yet,I may be just over-exaggerating the comparison and being harsher than I should be...Btw- have finalised on a house at least!!

Unprecedented Series: IPL comes to an end

What an amazing Finale to the Indian Premier League!!Absorbing to the core...
Though for me the dampener begun with both my favorite teams- Delhi and Punjab- out of the tournament yesterday, beaten badly in their respective Semis,today was a befitting final to the series and format of the game. I started with supporting Chennai (now that I am based in the south) and Dhoni ("mere gaon ka") was captaining the team, but as the match came to the last 5 overs, the excitement and thrill was almost unmatchable and the only thought running in my mind was that it would end in a bowl out - but that kind of divine justice does not happen always (!!). In a way it was good to see the confidence displayed by the youngsters(Under 19-ers), especially the likes of Yusuf Pathan and Jadeja in a series where they started by being the underdogs- simply for not having Star pull (either in the form of Bollywood or Cricketers), but admirable confidence, focus and "josh" took them through.
Somehow I had a discomfort seeing that the IPL started with each team having the firangs in it play better than the Indian counterparts..and that finally the only Foreigner captained team won the "INDIAN" Premier League :(
But then as my friend put it : " a deserving team won and its a sport- a game of cricket" may be the thing to remember will be the IPL as a trend setter for a lot of change in this game of cricket and not having SET MAX as the first channel on most remotes anymore.

From there to here...

As i was flipping channels, i saw that Sony is showing "Mohabbatein" ...2000 it was I guess when I was in XIth and this movie was released..as I did for most movies, I dragged my family into watching it 2nd day 3rd show,poor dad of mine, slept through the movie which he found as stupid as it could get, while I sat at the edge of my seat absorbing all the Yash Choprian ideal of romance and magic..college life and love...the dream-iness of it all that subconsciously fed my "idea of love and life"....How I used to gorge on Jane Austen books and Yash Chopra/Karan Johar movies (not that i dont do it now) innocently adding those ideas and "happy endings" into the grey cells of my brain that kept further sharpening the contours of the image of love i had in my heart.....
And eight years down the line, how facetious things seem...the movie appears as a cut out from a Puppy Romance pulp fiction with each page marked by flying dead leaves and "mohabbat gyaan" being lashed out!! And definitely the movie is the same the dialogues are the ones i had memorised(and somehow still remember- this is how memory plays tricks on you by remembering the inessential always) only "I" have changed...come a long way from the adoloscent belief in true love, happy endings and mushy romance..a long way from mushy romances and "made for each other" convictions...a long way..or Have I ??????????

Finally...Blog it is

Finally....even I have started blogging....
What happens when a person is posted in a small cute town Madurai situated at the farther south end of India...selling biscuits and chasing numbers, experiencing a very different culture, trying to understand people and conversations through their expressions (because the language is unfathomable), following IPL as a cricket crazed fan with no social life...
Blogging it is...my way to express and socialise(!!!)