The Pregnancy Scare

Damn you Fridays. I am supposed to be off work already. How can there possibly be another dozen mails to reply to. Friggin' IT.

*phone rings*

Great, of course it's going to be some guy from NY office wanting help on something. 

'Hello, Amar here'

'Hi, Priya speaking'

'Hey, doll. How you doing?'

'I'm good, are you busy?'

Of course not, a dude never says he is busy, when it is a girl asking. 

Amar replies, 'Nah, usual stuff. Go on, wassup.'

'No, if you are busy we can talk later.' She trails off.

That gets our hero's attention. 'No I am not, kiddo. Um, gimme a minute.'

He locks up his machine and goes over to one of the empty conference rooms and closes the door behind him. 'Yup, now tell me what's happening.'

'I am just a little nervous. It is a girlie thing. I am not sure what to do, and there is nobody else I can talk about this right now.'

'Yeah, sure Priya. But tell me what exactly the problem is.'

She barely whispered her question. 'What do you know about iPill?'

As any guy in this situation, Amar gets a little defensive right about now. Even though he definitely knows he hasn't been around this girl, in that way. 'The contraceptive pill? Yeah I know a bit about those. Is anything the matter, Priya?'

As any girl in this situation, Priya starts weeping. Not the frequent sob-and-sniffle girlie cry, but the wholehearted my-favorite-Twilight-character-has-died weep. Amar looks around to be sure nobody's overhearing this conversation and even reduces the volume of his phone for good measure.

She somehow finds gets around to reducing her weep to an occasional blurting of 'I am so stupid'. Eventually becomes more or less clearheaded to say, 'You remember VJ, I introduced him to you when we met last time?'

'Yeah, the law school guy? Dude, you're kidding me. That guy?'

Amar could feel her going red on her face now. 'Yes, that guy. Well we went to Lavasa for a weekend and things happened.'

'Of course things did, Priya. A guy and a girl shacked up in a hotel room in a hill station. What else did you think would happen?' Typical jerk move.

'Why are you scolding me?' She again goes on a cry spree. Typical girl move.

Amar takes a breath. Realizes this was probably the reason she called him instead of her other guy friends. He was supposed to be the practical one. 'I am sorry, hun. That reaction was just reflex. Just stop crying now, calm down a bit and tell me what is happening with you.'

Priya stops sobbing, clears her throat a couple times, takes another moment just to gather herself and tells how things lay right then.

Apparently, she and this Vijay dude went on a weekend 'getaway' to Lavasa, a quaint hillside resort place out of town. They had planned to stay just one night in the hotel, and spend the rest of the time roaming around sightseeing, discover places and stuff. In all honesty they did do a lot of sightseeing and discovering, just not the touristy places kind. They practically stayed indoors the whole time they were there. And that was two weeks ago. She was supposed to have her Red Wedding this week. And she isn't having her pains yet, making her scared shitless.

Amar was never completely comfortable with this aspect of the female biology. As most guys generally do, for the sake of convenience, he put away all thoughts of the female cycle from his mind for now. And only asked Priya when was she due and did they take the necessary precautions during their tryst.

'We did. But I am scared now. I am due today. But I don't feel anything now. I am just really worried. I had taken the U72 pill instead of iPill. Is that good enough? Is there a way to know if the rubber broke?'

'Now? I don't think anybody keeps them stored up for future research, kiddo. And don't worry I am sure things would be normal tomorrow. Maybe you're just a bit late. That does happen sometimes, don't it?'

She is almost normal now, 'I guess so. You really think everything is fine?'

'I do. And in any case there is really not much we can do now is there. You say you had taken the necessary precautions, and all we can do now is trust in science to do its shit. If anything did go wrong. We'll.. think about it then. You remember Tina?'

'Akash's girl from Pune?'

'Yup, she is studying OBGYN. I will send you her number, I'll tell her you will be calling her. She can help you more on the medical angle. But as far as I can tell, things seem to be safe now.'

She smiles a bit now. 'Thank you, ji'

Amar sighs a bit at this. She is back being normal again. 'I don't want to be preaching you on these things, but dude, you need to be extra careful with these stuff. This thing is no joking matter. Imagine how bad you'd have mess things up.

She unsurprisingly doesn't weep this time. She comfortably lashed out at Amar, as was usual. 'Don't you preach about this to me. Weren't you the one asking me and Asha to come out of our comfort zone and live a little. You were the one who introduced Asha to her boyfriend remember? Do you think they don't do it? Who do you think I got my pills from?'

Asha was Amar's first cousin.

'Asha. Pills. What??'

'See that's the thing about you boys. You want your girlfriends to be all loose and cosy with you, but when you know that the same is being expected of your sisters and women close to you. You immediately go on a rage.'

'Dude, what are you talking about? Is Asha messing around with Vicky?'

Priya holds her tongue now, 'I am not talking any more about it. I have spoken to much already. You will have to ask her yourself.'

Amar didn't talk much of anything after that. They said their goodbyes and he reminded her to call the OBGYN friend whose number he'd shared. And as for her, she asked him to not tell Asha that she was the one who spilled about her and Vicky. He said yes, he would have said yes to anything at that point. He was already on auto-pilot.

Amar wasn't sure how he felt about all this. Nor was he sure how he should handle this. Should he speak with Asha directly, or let her elder brother know about this. He didn't like to think what her brother would act like, probably go bash Vicky's head in. He was psycho like that. And he wasn't exactly close with Asha all that much to get her to openly talk about this with him. He was sure had to do something to help her.

Amar came out of the conference room, got back to his work. Hoping it would distract him from his personal crap. And as usual, it did. It was nearly close to midnight. He'd done a bit of overtime today. But at least nobody would be bothering him over the weekend. He packed up his stuff and was about to get up from his desk.

*phone vibrates*

A text message from this girl he was seeing -

"Roommate out of town. Wanna come over?"

Getting Almost Killed By A Train

"Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished. If you're alive, it isn't."

- Richard Bach

Today again I was a little late to get out of house in the morning; today again I would just barely reach the railway station in time for my 9:31 train to Thane. Today again I am probably going to bash into a couple of people, at the speed that I am walking. Today again I would partially turn at them, still running at the same time, mumble my apologies and hurry right-on towards the platform. Most of these people that I bash into are as much in hurry as I am, so I tell myself probably they don’t mind my half-baked attempt at being courteous.

Today what was different is that I have just three minutes left till the train leaves the station. I don’t take the over-bridge running over the other railway tracks to get my platform. I decide to just walk over the tracks to reach it as early as possible. A feat I rarely, if ever, do.

You see, in Mumbai local train’s tracks are infamous death traps. Often slippery and have puddle all round, you get your foot stuck in it at the wrong time and you’re a goner. You’re last sight on this sweet planet Earth will be of the big engine compartment of some train coming full speed towards you.

They will have to sweep off your guts and bones from even 50 meters off of the spot where you collided with the train.

When I was in school and living in the Western lines region, I had seen people carry away a guy on a stretcher once. That guy had apparently jumped off of a running train too early and landed right on to the signal posts that they build at the ends of each platform. His face was half torn open and he was clearly knocked-out cold by the impact. Maybe just had a concussion, but the way his body was laying limp on that stretcher anyone could have already thought he was dead. They had tried to cover his face up with a piece of cloth but with the amount of blood pouring out of it, the bloody rag of cloth only made it look all the more horrifying.

An image like that stays on in a kid’s memory.

That was the image that came into my mind that day as I was hurrying over the tracks. I could see my train has already arrived in platform number 1. I had just passed number 4 and was getting over the 3^rd when I heard the siren blast. It was so loud and sudden that at that precise moment, I thought it was already on top of me.

I turned around to my right, real slow. I couldn’t speed up my body while doing that, it was like in the movies, important scenes always happened in “slo-mo”. I guess this is what those directors were aiming at.  I was there gaping at the big engine just twenty-or so feet away from me. I could see the engine-driver inside his cabin yelling at the top of his voice. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but by the movements of his lips I could guess he was asking me toget off the tracks and showering me with some very tasteful, innovative abuses. I never knew crap-for-brains can be used in such colourful combinations.

But I couldn’t move. I tried again, I just couldn’t.

I looked down at my feet. They were still where they always have been, at the far end of my legs. Larger than normal people’s, on account of my height which also was not of normal people’s measure.

“Idiot, is this the time to be thinking about the size of your beep-darn feet? Move it, before you get crushed to pulp!!”

I look up again to the engine; it was only ten feet away. Now even the driver had stopped with his abuses and was staring at me with both eyes and mouth opened. He got out of the trance faster than me and was reaching at the panel in front of him and pushing levers and buttons right and left.

And here I was still stuck like the deer in front of headlights, ready to be another road-kill just like most of them deer inevitably become.

I suddenly felt myself falling backwards. I land heavily on my backside. Ouch, that’s going hurt bad when I get up. I looked up from where I was the train’s wheels had now started to pass by from the spot where my legs were at just a few seconds back. I looked higher towards the engine, the driver had popped his head out of his side window, again back to yelling abuses at me and also gesturing with his left hand too, the old familiar respectful finger was up.

The train’s engine was out of sight soon and I looked around to the small knot of people who had already gathered around me by now. There were a couple of older men of my father’s age who invariably had started with their “kids of this generation have got no common sense at all” speech. Mister, you were right behind me crossing the tracks on foot, was your common sense on vacation in Goa today? 

Bloody hypocrites.

What my eyes were searching for, was the guy who had the right sense to pull me off the tracks, than just wait see me turn into tomato ketchup all over the railway tracks.

I recognised him soon enough, he was the guy who I always see commuting in same train as me. He gets off two stops ahead of me.

He mouths, “You alright, boss?”

I mouth, “Yes. Thanks to you!”

He hurries ahead towards platform number 1 without turning back again. I will have to ask his name sometime in future, or buy him a cup of coffee or something. After all you don’t get a guardian angel to rescue you from instant death every day, do you?

(I had missed my train that daythough; wish there was some guardian angel I could keep on a retainer for that as well.)

I got up off my butt, and as I had predicted earlier it hurt as hell. I was not going to walk right for a bit today in office, hope nobody notices and starts getting ideas

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Each Time You Fall In Love

"Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does.

 Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up."

- James A. Baldwin

Each time you fall in love,

You surrender a part of your soul to the other person.. 

And she gives herself to you!

Each time you fall in love, 

You give up on your vain dreams to make both of your dreams come true.. 

And she does the same for you!

Each time you fall in love, 

You see the beauty of your being in the way her body trembles at your touch,

and the way you can make her heart beat slow when you kiss.. 

And she measures her beauty by the hunger in your eyes,

and the way her shy smile takes your breath away!

Each time you fall in love, 

You strive to become a better person because she deserves it.

And she is already the best, cause you ain't met nobody that makes you feel so special the way she does!

And she is precious for-evermore cause you know you will never meet someone like her ever again!!

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The (Only One?) True Love Predicament

“This is not a goodbye, my darling, this is a thank you. Thank you for coming into my life and giving me joy, thank you for loving me and receiving my love in return. Thank you for the memories I will cherish forever. I love you, T.”

- Nicholas Sparks,

  'Message in a Bottle'

  

As the title obviously suggests this post is going to be a very soppy self-indulgent one, well at any rate more than my usual ones are anyway. So you very well should know what you are getting into.

Actually, sometimes I think life would be so much simpler if everything came with such a warning.

Right at the beginning of some important chapter in your life there comes a disclaimer - like those before the movies or on the cigarette cases.

("smoking is injurious to health" - really? I had no idea!)

These warnings seems to crop up everywhere. At the violent movies, that most impressionable children are inevitably going to watch; and at the boxes of cigarettes, that most smokers are going to puff out no matter what!

But then I think, just as futile as these disclaimers are in either scenarios; they might prove just as pointless if they were to be placed at some really landmark turning points of our life. Would we change our paths if there were anything that warns us of the dangers or the hurt and pain ahead of you? Would we dare not to have known/had those wonderful experiences that most of these moments bring into our lives?

Suppose at the precise moment that you get out of college and sit for your very first job interview, just before you answer their first question a pop up video blurb appears (like the one in that show in MTV) saying:

"Fun Fact: The moment you answer this question the interviewer would be impressed and immediately decide to hire you. You will agree to work here for considerably lower pay that what they would have easily agreed to pay had you negotiated a little more. They will squeeze your brain and blood for the next four years, robbing you off of all the zeal and innovative ideas you've ever had throughout your college life turning you into just like the pompous vegetable they themselves have turned into!"

Now after seeing that, would you in your right senses ever accept such a job offer?

Obviously no.

But since there wasn't any such pop up prediction available for you at that time, you take up that job and end up being miserable for the next four years of your life just as it had said. You sell your soul to the devil in return for four years of work experience in something that you never had any real interest in. And with people that you don't care lived or evaporated.

That's obviously disheartening, isn't it? But still, this office was the place you discovered your affinity to Beatles and Zappa. This is the place where you will meet a senior manager who will become one of your favorite mentor and stay so even after you leave the company. Also, this could also be the place where you make acquaintance with a girl with whose roommate you fall head over heels in love. Would you dare miss out on all that??

Now, imagine if there were to be such a disclaimer when it came to matters of the heart. But for obvious reasons it should be different from the one above.

After all matters of the heart supersedes in importance over anything else in one’s life, right?

I suppose it must be like the one in the music video of Savin' Me by Nickelback. Just like in the video, here there is a countdown on top every prospective mate in your vicinity, stating the amount of time they are going to stay in your life.

But that’s not enough now is it? There are many other equally crucial and decisive criteria that you will tick off when it comes to choosing someone to fall in love with.

Most often I have heard people, men and women alike, bring up this make-or-break requirement that their prospects just have gotta to fulfill: ”He/she has got to be my soul mate."

Perdóname, senor. What does soul mate mean exactly?

Oxford says, "Soul mate : a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner."

Now, tell me what/when/how has any man/woman/others in all of the history of mankind on this planet ever, been able to find anything that has been remotely deemed fit to be described as 'ideal'?

There has always been a compromise. At some level or the other no matter good or desirable that object might be, you always have to adjust with something. Some might argue that this specific defect/quirk is probably what that makes this person all the more dear to them, their One True Love.

When you had imagined your ideal partner in the first place, did you imagine them with all these elfin eccentricities?

Probably not. By definition, these quirks and fancy traits that they have are for the most part their own creations. Unique and very hard to imagine on any person before you happen to come across somebody actually having them. How could one possibly envision them any earlier?

 Another thing that has always baffled me:

Suppose you are married to wonderful person, you love him and soon have a couple of amazing children with this person that you love very dearly. Then many years down the line you come by another guy/gal who seems to be that perfect mate you have always dreamed of. You acquaint with this person and you start a terrific rapport just to find that you and he/she have more in common with you than you and your spouse has ever had in all of your time together.

Let's just assume that you go crazy in love/infatuation/lust/emotion/whatever and leave behind the house that you have built with your spouse of so many years to go live with this person.

Do you imagine a happily-ever-after ending to this tale in every situation ahead?

Might work, might not. This person that you are riding off into the sunset with, could turn out to be the sweetest of souls ever to be born, or just another Axe Murderer or the next Josef Fritzl.

In any case. Could you help me understand what was the fault of your child or of the husband/wife you leave behind?

See where this baffles me?

Somebody and Mr. Nice Guy

  

Somebody asks Mr. Nice Guy: 'I hear that nice guys always finish last, and mostly end up alone.. This is the age of jerks and pricks.. Is this true??'

Mr. Nice Guy: 'You heard right, so?'

Somebody: 'Don't you get tired of it??'

Mr. Nice Guy: 'Well, it really depends on how you look at it.. Nice guys are winners before the race even starts, we don't let the game destroy who we are.. We stay true, honest, loyal..o conditions applied anywhere.. We don't SELL OUT, to SCORE MORE!!'

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Their Balls Against His Bat!

“The bowler approached the wicket at a lope, a trot, and then a run. He suddenly exploded in a flurry of arms and legs, out of which flew a ball.”

- Douglas Adams
  'Life, the Universe and Everything'

 Another curve ball comes his way, a googly, a yorker, a killer bouncer right to his head.

What is going on inside the head of the guy with the bat, is it about how or why or what slieght of hand the bowler did to put this challenge in front of him?

Where are the spectators watching right now, is it at the bowler who is standing right the huffing and panting close to the umpire sweating like a pig and out of breath?

Who is the bowler and the fielders gawking at wide-eyed, expecting some action next? Is it at each other, in their shifty restless glorious squinted faces that has been standing there under the sun since God-knows-how-long?

Why is the time standing still?

Why are they all looking at him like that? What are they expecting of him?

4 more runs with 1 ball to go.

The odds are against him, yes. But do they think that all this pressure they are crushing him with, is going to help his case in any way at all?

Don't they understand the import of this fraction of second in his life?

A Long Time Coming

"I am using the truth, Master Wayne. Maybe it's time we all stop trying to outsmart the truth and let it have its day. I'm sorry."

- Alfred Pennyworth

  'The Dark Knight Rises'

Truth.

Such a fearsome idea, isn't it. A gigantic magnificent elephant in the room; that we all know about but never come out in the open and acknowledge. We see it, sense it, register it inside our brains, and even decipher the outcome of it all. But we never really seem capable to accept it as a fact of life and take in the guts, by sheer sportsmanship.

Not all men are born sporty. Not all men can live with their true faces out in the open for everyone to see.

We all are born capable of knowing and analyzing things that happen in our lives. If anyone says that they didn't see it coming. Pal, they are lying blatantly. Maybe they themselves not realizing that they are.

The Depressing One

“So in the end you try to think of someone else you're mad at, and the unavoidable answer pops into your little warped brain: everyone.”

- Ellen Hopkins

I used to have this friend (you will soon realize why the 'used to' usage here) who thought ill of almost everyone.

 

Except himself that is, obviously. He was always put himself in high regard and always thought he was right in doing so.

 

He was the most cynical, pessimistic, illogical soul probably in all of the worlds that all of the faiths that mankind has been yet been able to invent. You show him the picture of that firefighter who leapt into a burning building and saved a 10 year old girl, and he will point out how and where the guy's hands are in the poor semi-unconscious child's body and call him a pervert. You show him the story of a rich billionaire who has just started out another multi-million dollar campaign to eradicate polio in Africa; he will show you another article where this same techie billionaire had syphoned off billions from unsuspecting customers by forcing them to buy his products. You tell him about the 10th standard girl next door whose study room light was on all night, he will tell you about the time that he saw her riding on the backseat of a bike with some guy who looked to be of her own age.

 

You tell him just about anything that had for some extend a flimsy bit of positivity in it. This prick could come up with something to bring you back down and rub something completely different onto your sunny-eyed face proving to you that the world is simply not worth a single sliver of silver lining no matter what.

 

Well. That was until he happened to fall in love.

The Doomsday can still come! The world, as we know it, can still come to an END!!

"Wild, dark times are rumbling toward us. And the Prophet who wishes to write a new apocalypse will have to invent entirely new beasts, beasts so terrible that the ancient animal symbols of St. John will seem like cooing doves and cupids in comparison."

- Heinreich Heine,

  "Lutetia; or, Paris" Augsberg Gazette, 1842

I did not know who Heine was at that time, nor did I know why he said that. But in light of recent events I am not sure if anything else would be more appropriate here.

There are times when pop culture, with all of its cliches and overdramatic urban legends, comes out with something so logically convincing and outright bizarrer that the whole world mankind unwillingly (or willingly as an escape from reality) ends up believing it.

21, December, 2012 was one such legend.

People were falling prey to it everywhere. Dozens for documentaries were made, hundreds of websites and forums created to bring together people of this cult to prepare for the "end of time" conflicts, thousands of bunkers and strongholds built in basements and high hills where people shut themselves up for most of the second half of the year. Millions spend on a high budget ($200mto be precise) Roland Emmerich movie on it, which also incidentally earned its maker millions ($770m!)

So clearly, this was a big deal. Or so everyone thought until the day actually came.

It came and it went. Nothing of grave importance occured. It was just another day for most of the planet.

World did not end. Buildings did not crumble like sand castles. Cities did not slid into the ocean. Hot lava did not pour out of the mound in the park.

All that happened was that I missed the bus to work.

Nothing new there even.

We are back where we are. Right?

12.12.12.

"Enthusiasm is excitement with inspiration, motivation, and a pinch of creative insanity!"

- Bo Bennett

This should be interesting right.

Always thought it would be wicked to witness something extraordinary happening on a date like this. One can’t help but think so, look at what all the pop culture has got us into believing, thanks to the Mayan calendar and the Occult and whatnots.

But each darn time, they disappoint me. These dates just don’t seem to offer anything out of the ordinary. Nothing ever happens! (dates as in the measure-of-time kind, not the other one!)

To add to the burn. Even today I was so close to missing the company bus!

Today could’ve been different, at least in this small thing. It is not demanding too much is it?

Well.. Anyways, there is still the rest of the day left ahead of us. Enough time for us to spice things up a bit. So find time go out with your mates today and do something different yourself, for yourself.

I’m done expecting these symmetrical dates on the calendar to bring something exciting to me, let’s just go ahead and create some excitement for ourselves! (‘Aaj kuch toofani karte hai’ mode)

Hope you all have an exciting 12.12.12 ahead! Stay awesome!

And happy wishful thinking!! :-P :-) :-)

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The Birthday Blues

"Every year on your birthday, you get a chance to start new. "

- Sammy Hagar

Okay. So I was born today. Yes, today 24 years ago I came to this awesome planet and made it extra awesome with my awesomeness.

Okay, that was lame.

But tell me one thing, what is all the whole fuss about?

Take this for example. There was this Prime Minister we had in India, a very ancient but somewhat respected one. That is a rare feat out here, none of the politicians are respected much not in the real sense of it. Fear induced respect at times may be. But not the real thing.

This ex-PM hated celebrating his birthday, but since he was a public figure it was a big deal. His party members made it a point to make it headlines in all the leading newspapers and channels. On his last term of PM'ship he stated that his birthday wont be celebrated this time around.

He said, "I never really found the reason to celebrate every single birthday throughout out pithy pathetic lives. It might be out birthday here today, but it could also be somebody else's divorce anniversay or the day someone lost a leg, or when somebody lost a loved one. What is so grand about today, just because we were born today? Doesnt that only mean that we are now a day older and more closer to our death than our last birthday??"

Well he was famous for stubborness, so nobody could push him to cut the cake in the usual grand out door do. So they just did it without him, as a tribute. A reading of excerpts from his famous hindi books and articles. A play based on his life's journey so far etc. The usual.

But no cake cutting by the birthday gentleman himself.

A year later, the party lost general elections, the PM got ousted from his seat. And he never had to suffer through another public fuss over the day he was born. I think he must be just glad celebrating it with his family and close friends. Thats he wanted always right, judging from whatever he said to the media.

Ironic.

Well life is full of such baffling coincidences. I'll try and avoid them on this topic. That politician was 60+ years he has had a full life with loads of accomplishments and surely he must be satisfied a bit with it. Here, I am one-third his age, I have started my roller coaster ride. And I dont want the Irony Goddess to come striking her hammer so soon on my joy ride.

So, just to please her if not anything else. I swear:

• I will cut the cake
• I will pick up each of your calls
• I will try to answer all your prying questions truthfully (flexible on this a bit though)
• I will try not to be pissed at people who never call all year and when they call you to wish happy birthday, demand if you have recognised them by their voice or not. (seriously, why do people do that?!)
• I will reply to all the texts personally and not mass forward the templates.
• I will attend to all your RT's and posts on my facebook wall.
• I will enjoy the day to the fullest and also make you all feel the same way too (this I will ensure personally!)

Thanks in advance to all of you. You all are very kind to remember. Feels wonderful to have so many wonderful friends around!!

Thou Art Awesome ;-)

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Question: Do you realize just how messed up you are? Answer: Yes, I do!

"The egoist in the absolute sense is not the man who sacrifices others. He is the man who stands above the need of using others in any manner. He does not exist for any other man -- and he asks no other man to exist for him. This is the only form of brotherhood and mutual respect possible between men."
- Howard Roark,
 'The Fountainhead'

Yes, I know. I haven’t written anything here for a while.

And if at all I do its in long intervals. About lord-only-knows what topic, at lord-only-knows what day, and especially lord-only-knows why.

It’s not that I’ve given up on blogging, no I have not. I enjoy this, I really do!

Life’s just been coming in the way too much, lately. And people around me know what a roller coaster ride it has been for the past four months or so. New place, new city, new job, new people. Couldn’t actually find the time, not that I was at lost on what to say, or was in shortage of things to talk about. I never am!

Things were a bit too cluttered, needed some sorting out. But have cleared it out now; got a nice healthy stable routine. It’s all good.

Except…

Sometimes, for some people, making do with some lame routine just won’t do. The drag of living in monotony and doing the same thing day in day out without any novelty in it proves a terrible downer. They always are on the look-out on something to bring out the zeal in them. Something that is theirs, and nobody else’s. Something, they could call their own. Their own private territory.

For me, it is writing.

Cheap thrills? I suppose so.

But who is to blame anyone for that matter? Not one soul on this planet wants to have a life without meaning. Nobody wants to leave this planet without leaving a mark. Everybody wants their name to be remembered for awhile even after they reach the pearly gates up above. Nobody wants to be forgotten. No one wishes to fall prey to the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ syndrome we all have as a species. Why do you think all those scientists and geniuses put their own name to their theories and hypothesis or of their favorite cat’s or even an aunt for that matter? They wanted to be remembered. At least for some time.

I am rambling now.

This brings to my topic at hand today, a very innocent question to me by somebody a few hours ago:

“You talk rash. You don’t think before you speak and say whatever comes to your mind. You speak loud and laugh louder, and you walk like you rule the planet. You don’t just do what’s asked of you, you have to question everything. You know everyone and everything about them; everyone comes to you with their issues while none of them know the first thing about yours or even know if you have any. You know everything all the time, you have the solutions to everybody problems. But I have never seen you ask for anybody’s assistance; give them a chance to help you. You are way too cheery and ‘happy happy’ all the time. You go ahead and give some the most mature intellectual long speeches that I have ever seen anybody give; and then go around and eat ice-cream with a FORK like a 4 year-old!

Do you realize just how messed up you are?”

My honest answer, pal:

“I do. And if all that you said qualifies me to be messed up, then I'm darn glad that I am.”

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The Catalyst For Change

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."

- Anatole France

When I was about to leave home for the first time for college, most people around me were of the view that something of huge importance is about to happen in my life. Somehow this single act of getting out of ‘the nest’ is about to change me, my way of thinking, likes and dislikes, even way of doing things. They said, up until then my life was within the very safe protection of my family. Where I didn’t have to ever worry about being alone, uncared for, nor getting my laundry done and neatly ironed. At that time, it all seemed like every other long lecture that the wise elders used to give; some of these used to go longer and more boring than those that began with ‘when I was of your age’. I never could understand the compulsion for adults to give these repetitive telecasts of the same subject again and again, on an uncomfortably frequent basis. I never will until I reach their age, comes their immediately reply if I were to foolishly present this question to them. Never expect a straight answer from them, you’d never ever get it.

The thing is, even after months and months of getting into this college I couldn’t figure out what would be this mysterious catalyst within these four walls of the campus that was going to change me so drastically. Yes, I was alone and had to do everything by myself. Mother wasn’t here to tend to my needs and to provide me with her delicious food. I had to make do with whatever we could find here and try to survive on the stuff they called food and expected us to swallow. Yes, this was all new to me and so where the people here. But I was always able to make friends wherever I went and soon there was a huge mob of people that knew me and that I knew. So there really weren’t really many places around the campus town where I’d ever find myself lone for the remaining four years of college yet to come.

The college I went to was 400 kilometers far from my hometown Mumbai. So it was a one night of travel to go to and from there to home, so usually it was sometimes weeks or even more that I go to eat mum’s food. And throughout my time away from home, and even now, that’s probably thing that I miss the most. The food wasn’t that bad in the hostel, but as most things in life the monotony of it killed its novelty in time. Fortunately, the roomies that I got were all also a bunch of indolent, bamboozled, languid buffoons like me. And darn did I have a helluva time with all of them. We were a group of solid 16 idiots, give or take a few at any point of time. The best thing about it was that we met during the first weeks of college itself and we stayed together through most of it. Had millions of fights and gazillions of arguments, but as I’ve seen in most guys. None of these squabbles lasted more than a week, after the initial violent outburst. Guy friendships are simpler and less maintenance than with the female specie.

The Night Of The Wrestler, The Rich Kid And The Crazy Bitch

"Peace cannot be achieved through violence, it can only be attained through understanding."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

He never thought he would find himself in such a predicament. He always thought that he was above such petty casualties of life. And most around him believed it too. He always seemed so casual, so at ease with himself and the world around him. He was the centre of all the action, was always a fun guy to be around. He had the way about him like he ruled the earth he was walking on; people somehow had started to think so too. People loved him, and always found reason to be around him. He was a man’s man. Some envied him, most wanted to be him. Women loved him, he loved them back. Each and every single one of them, he never distinguished one from the other. Always spread his love and attention around. But then something happened. Someone happened.

All through his school and college life, he had been conscious of the effect he had on the people around him, especially those of the opposite sex. He was tall, not bad looking but his real trump card was his wit and smile. From as far as he can remember, everyone told him he was going to break some hearts when he was grows old. He took that seriously I guess, always found himself to be living in a bit too many hearts at once, making guest appearances in one too many poor adolescent and some not so young women’s nightly fantasies, each a bit sinister than the last one, each getting weirder and even more paranoid as he progressed along the in years.

Somehow he managed to keep his wits about him and not get too carried away by all this. He kept doing well at school; got all the grades required to get him into a well-reputed architecture school in the capital city. In college too, in spite of all the girls in his class going gaga over his shoulder long hair, which was a craze back then, he still stuck to being his self. He never was lonesome, had the company of the best of people around him wherever he went. The geeks, when he wanted some homework done. The queen bees, when he needed something else done, which they got done using their jock boyfriends. Sometimes a lonely spinster, or even some married, female teacher of the college had a weak spot for this boy and he had his way no matter what.

He had his merry way throughout the first and half way through second year of college. The Christmas holidays were close. He wasn’t going to be able to go home this time, not that he cared too much. But he really hoped to extort some money from his dad to buy him a new car, the old one was getting out of fashion. He was still having a brainstorming session, devising a strategy for this mission, in the dorm lobby when he heard a loud yell from the floor above. He ran upstairs, and found a girl running into toilet at the end of the hallway, sobbing. He also heard noises of footsteps rushing upstairs to the floors above and the slamming of a door.

He spent quite some time outside the toilet, pondering whether he should go in or not. He never before in his life has been at this spot, where he had to choose something for himself. He was always told what was good for him, decisions where always taken for him. And wherever this wasn’t possible he always went along with the crowd and did what they did. He never really thought for himself. And at this moment, he had to. He can either, go back downstairs to his sofa and think of ways to get a brand new car bought from his rich father’s money. Or, he can open this door and find out what really happened here a few minutes ago. Luckily for him, this time again the decision was made for him.

The door suddenly opened, and out came the craziest looking woman he had ever seen. She was almost as tall as he was, but stick thin, had funny eye glasses on which made her eyes look huge. This wasn’t one bit funny because the look in those eyes right then was murderous and that scared the living crap out of him. This was the first time he had looked anyone so angry. He was always used to people being hunky dory around him, de had never known a lousy day in his life and if were there any such day his dad’s riches were always at his disposal to make him feel happy happy again. The girl stormed out of the doorway, right past him hardly noticing him or the slightly perturbed look on his face. A part of him was glad that she was gone, but a part of him was offended by the fact that she was the first female ever in his life who had totally ignored him so offhandedly. And the curiosity got the better of him and he followed this clearly insane character up the stairs to the floor above.

The Apple Tree

"All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible."
- T.E. Lawrence

Right from the humble naked beginnings of our lives, we humans are taught how virtuous and rewarding it is to live life in a righteous, courteous and truthful way. We are taught how it is every human being’s moral and social duty to be an ethical, compassionate and caring member of the civilized society. We are taught to say please when you are asking for something, to say thank you when you have got it, and sorry when you have got it and for some incomprehensible reason broke or misplaced it. We were taught that there is no problem in the face of this all forgiving planet that cannot be solved by just sitting across a table and discussing over it, and not debating over it. We have been taught by the very pillars of our society that we students call teachers, apart from the many other more creative names given to by their loving pupils, about the many dignified personalities in the pages of history who have made their mark on the timeline of this planet through their generosity and humanity.

We are programmed to care.

And for most of our childhood, we sincerely do. We confidently ran around naked in the neighbourhood with our mommy running behind with a diaper in her hands yelling for us to stop, we played with total stranger’s children in the sandbox in the park, smiled at strangers and waved at them. We were are truly amiable. The world was one big happy playground. And then, we become teenagers.

Just like no one knows why Lady Gaga or Himesh’s songs go to the top of the charts every time, no one really knows why teenagers are angry all the time. Back in the 60’s maybe they had lot of reasons, the unnecessary conflict in ‘Nam and then the Cold War and all. Even in the 80’s their anger is understandable may be, anyone would have been driven to the loony bin if they had to withstand those disastrous hairstyles for too long. In the 90’s they probably got pissed because they all couldn’t get enough of the cool new “happening” thing, computers. And now in this millennium probably they are enraged over all these new privacy laws and whatnots have propped all-over facebook, or that they have less likes on that special status they have put up after pondering over it longer than they have ever done with any history paper at school.

Well, seems like teenagers always found a reason to pissed off about, cannot really blame them for that. They have lived all their preteens being the good child, they have just come to know about the good that could from being bad. They get this high on disobeying rules, talking back to their folks at home, do what they feel like and the many other essentials on the to-do list of a regular Devil-May-Care personality. And they stick to this routine for the rest of their teens. But that never lasts too long though. Before you know it you are in your ugly 20’s.

This part of human existence I am all too familiar with, on account of my actually going through it right now. The 20’s is that wonderful period in a person’s life when one of two things can happen, (a) he/she becomes the luckiest person on the planet and doesn’t changes a bit from the naïve brat that he/she was as a teenager, or (b) he/she wises up to his/her responsibility and falls into the deep cesspool of the “real world”. And when this person does start thinking about his future, about what he is going to do with this life of his, he starts dreaming.

The early parts of the 20’s are wonderful. You spend your days dreaming about the possibilities of the future, and you stay up at night to dream some more. The truth of the matter is this part of your life right here, is where you actually are the happiest and the optimistic you will ever be in your life. You will feel invincible. There is nothing and no one that can bring you down and there is nothing that you cannot do and no plaque on which you cannot put your name on. You have a bounce in your walk, you have friends all around you who love you, even your folks back at home begin to forget what a pain you were when you were a teen. The world truly feels like your oyster. And the sad part is you really begin to believe it. As everything that’s good in this planet, this feeling also sadly doesn’t last long.

The Kid

“Oft expectation fails, and most oft where most it promises;
And oft it hits where hope is coldest; and despair most sits.”
- William Shakespeare

I have always had a nagging feeling that I am still not doing all that I can. I am still not using the whole of my potential. It sure seems like that sometimes. People seem to expect a lot from me. And I am very much sure that people are disappointed when I don’t come through. I might have been the same if I were in their place. After they see this guy in front of him as a confident, funny and outgoing person who is smarter the average bear and not without some stuff between his ears. But mostly they just stay within that outside appearance itself and in their own irritatingly stubborn way demand excellence from you. As if you are born on this planet to do this and this alone. To shoot for the stars, be on the top of the heap and be like those uptight pompous pricks who are there already and gloat about it. I am sure there are many others out there like me. Who have at some point or other felt this immense pressure on themselves. Not being able to be who they want to be and to do what they enjoy doing!

I knew someone like that. A very good decent kid who had never done anything wrong or every wronged anybody. The kind of kid who doesn’t sit on the first benches among the toppers who have the answers for every question the teacher asks and shameless kiss their asses and are proud about. These toppers are the ones who in future take the place of these highly knowledgeable teachers as they rarely are the ones that have the guts or the talent to make it out there. My friend never sat in the last benches either. That was the place for the sleepers and mockers and the jocks of the class. The kids who are funny, naughty and rarely are very good in the marks department. These are ones that become politicians or actors or some big entrepreneur. These are the ones that do something in their life. Then there is the middle benches, that’s where our friend sat. This is the place where those kids usually sit who never were very smart but are very hard working. They never were very uptight or selfish, but were very good hearted. The followed around the smart kids but secretly were jealous of them. They stayed away from the back benchers but secretly wanted to be like them, wanted to enjoy their life a little more they were. He sat among such sad confused souls.

This kid always was the target many jokes around the class. He was from a remote village in Gujarat. He had this weird funny accent when he spoke in any language other than his mother tongue. Especially when he spoke in English he used to goof up in a lot of words and put a lot of ‘d’s and ‘t’s around the words he spoke. We made a lot of fun of him. And he never really took any of to heart. He also laughed along. I liked him for that. It takes guts to own up to your drawbacks and still be able to laugh about it. He did not have a bad bone in his body. He used to help me in math (I never too good at it!). He used stay after class to help me with it, though he never really had to. He always brought a lot of snacks when we went to the playground on weekends to play cricket. He never got pissed at anyone, never had a grudge with anybody in his life. I was always amazed how anybody could be so calm and peaceful. He always walked away when a argument would arise. Back then I used to think it as cowardly, now I realise it was the wise move!

The Truth About Lies

“But better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie.”
- Khaled Hosseini

I have always thought that truth and lies are always interlinked to each other. Each cannot survive without the other. They both are nothing but the two sides of the same old rusted coin. Truth is usually overrated, but then so are the lies. People think that the truth might liberate their soul, which is all nothing but a pile of rotten horsecrap. People want to always know everything. And hear nothing but the truth. What is the point anyways? More often than not we never like the truth any more than the lie. The truth only makes it all the more difficult. It’s so much easier sometimes to just say a lie and get it over with than bring out the whole big fiasco of a truth to light which needs a much longer explanation.

And explanations aren’t foolproof. There are times when the explanations get so complex and twisted and turned such a way that you yourself have got no idea what was it that got you into this mess you are in.

I think that the main reason for lying is our loss of the most precious human qualities, our ability to forgive. We are afraid of each other. We are scared witless that the other person might not understand our helplessness or the conditions and the pressures that we were under at that precise moment which led to the choices or actions we had undertaken. The choices and decisions that got us in the trouble we are in. If we knew that they would understand and forgive us. We would have no hesitation in plainly saying the truth as it was.

I am sure that our mistakes aren’t as grave as crucifying Christ. And even He asked for forgiveness to the culprits who did that to him. No, none of us are Christ. I don’t actually expect anyone to walk on water (would have been pretty cool though). And I probably don’t expect anyone to crucify anybody except their college profs may be (y'all know you want to). If He can manage to forgive at the last moment of his life. Why can not we do that? They say to walk on the path of the Almighty. Then why don’t they do the same. Why can’t they forgive? Why does everything have to be done according to their norm? Why can’t they forgive us if we stray from their path? Is it so unbearable for them to see us defy them? Why can’t they let us be? Judging us and condescending us is not going to help us in any way. When are they going to realize that?

We are young. We are meant to make mistakes. Loads of them. We are meant to learn from them. We have to fall first to learn how to walk straight. Humans did not learn to stand without falling for the first dozen hundreds of years. If you had patience then. Where is that patience now? If you could tolerate and forgive mistakes way back when you were just like a chimpanzee, why can’t you do that now when you are supposed to be the smartest living creature on this planet? May be if you could forgive, we wouldn’t be so darn scared of the truth.

So now that it is quite obvious that not forgiving is not helping much. Why not try forgiving?

Hope it doesn’t take another bunch of centuries to better ourselves this time…

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My Story

“Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”
- Niccolò Machiavelli,
  'The Prince'

People think that they have the vaguest idea of me and what I am but that, unfortunately, cannot be more further from the truth. I’ve been called secretive, secluded and even hostile at times. And at sometimes I am called very outgoing and a very center-of-all-the-good-times kind of person.

Contradictory? Yes. I think so too.

How can a single person be so many things to so many people at so many different situations? May be that’s it, the situations are the ones that make us be different at different times to different people. Some people make us let go of all the boundaries and limits that we make ourselves restricted to. We just cannot seem to stay reserved and secluded from them for long like we do with the rest of mankind.

It probably is a universal problem. I am sure there are more like me. I am not really surprised at that notion. Because. There is never enough of anything. Never. We as a specie always need more.

Need. Funny word isn’t it. We think we need this pricey little shoe that is probably worth a week’s meal for a family in Africa. We think we need this immaculate vintage Jag that can probably fill that same family’s hungry stomach for a year or more. We think we need that. But we never actually do. I think what we actually lack in life we make up by wishing for stuff. Dreaming of it. Working our butts of day-in-day-out that a day will come along when we actually get to have all these oh-so-lovely stuff that we need so bad. But that is what they are. Stuff. Good for nothing stuff. I don’t wish for them. I am darn proud that I am not that materialistic. Not that shallow.

I wish for experiences. Yes, experiences. Experiences like Polo had. Experiences like those kids of the houses with a big hall with crystal chandeliers and swimming pools. Experiences like the lowly thug who has had some self-claimed, exaggerated and glorified tales to tell. I’d like to have some like them. I’d like to have some experiences to call me own. Some stories that I can tell around a bonfire as my own experiences. Some story where I was a character of importance. Some play in which I am the lead and not among the audiences. Some movie based on a true story.

My story.

Wish I had one. Hope for one. Dream of one.

I am waiting for it to come around. Working, waiting for my story to begin…

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