"If the end of the world was a fixed date... US would have finished 10 hours later..."
-Akshat Bhaiya, 31/12/2009 (GMT) / 01/01/2010 (IST)
Wanted to finish 50 posts for 2009. As against the 3 and 2 posts that I managed in 2007 and 2008 respectively. Thought I'll be done before the clock strikes twelve, but then I missed my own deadline, and so I convinced myself that completing the golden jubilee before daybreak was still technically okay. And in any case, it isn't 2010 all over the world yet!!
Cheers,
Me.
"I guess sometimes you laugh at others' dreams simply because you have forgotten how to dream yourself"
- Nakul to Mehek, in Nishant Kaushik's 'A Romance With Chaos'
Sometimes, 'big' troubles bother me. And I go into the 'Why Me?' mode. I begin lamenting. But then, unfailingly, I come across a situation that gives me the opportunity to understand that I am better off than many others; that there are people who have troubles that are actually BIG, and not 'big'.
It is in each of those moments, that I grow up a little more.
Much Love,
Me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzEjYZnZSqE&feature=player_embedded
This little something made me feel,that the little times I've done "wrong" (cheating on scores et al) is not sumthing I shud regret,because that's how life is.A little sugar,a dash of spice,sprinkles of laughter,a few hiccups in between,some faded photographs folding in at the corners, bright and fresh memories, some burnt rotis, cakes that turned out successfully,jobs that suck,friends and family that make u happy....and so much more.........everything put together,when we look back,is our journey called Life.
Much Love,
Me.
Have you ever made a mistake?
Laughed out loud and received glares in return?
Cheated on a test and felt guilt bloom in you?
Barely studied and screwed up on an exam?
Forgotten a chore your mom assigned to you?
Promised to diet and then binged to the core?
Not walked your dog when you were supposed to?
Wasted your time on the phone when you should have been doing something more constructive?
Splurged on clothes,food,accessories and the like?
Left your room in a mess?
Switched off a paranoid alarm, and gone back to sleep?
Not gone to gym when you should have?
Burnt food that you were very enthusiastic about cooking?
Missed a bus or train?
Not paid your bill on time?
Eaten so much ice cream that you croaked for the next few days?
Has any of these things ever made you feel guilty?
************************************************************
Imagine this to be the last,the very last day of your life.
You know you have only a few hours left to live. To sort your life out.
And now look back. And think.
Will these things seem like big mistakes even then? Or will you feel that they weren't ever that big a deal? That the moments you spent worrying about them, could actually have been spent thinking happier thoughts and doing happier things?
************************************************************
There are things in life that have a way of sorting themselves out. Don't worry about them. If something doesn't, or continues to irk you from time to time, it is something you need to repair. NOW. So go ahead and do just that, right away. Don't wait for things to keep going downhill.
Life is nothing without a few shortfalls. If you go wrong, you learn, and if you learn, you know you're alive. So go ahead, go ahead and 'make a mistake'.One way or the other, you'll learn.
Much Love,
Me.
Isn't it funny, endearing even, how at times, two people you know from completely different places, and totally unrelated episodes of your life, happen to know each other? It always makes me smile...it is like a sprinkle of magic in my everyday monotonous routine.
I know they refer to such occurrences as co-incidences, but I'd like to look at them as Big Wonders. Big Wonders, in a Small World.
Much Love,
Me.
"U know, sales of pharmacies world over would go up if they sold a dose of you"
- Polo, 18th December 2009 (when I said something that made her feel better :-) )
I need to see you so,so, SO badly.
Five years,almost.
I hate the fact that we are unemployed.
I hate the distance between India and Canada.
Those were beautiful days, weren't they?
Please come soon.
I love you.
"Love is a very simple thing.It is like liking something forever. Like this icecream cone.Only in a bigger context."
-Shreenika, 16th December, 2009.
Little images dash across my mind,
Fragments of my life randomly come face to face
Twenty-four years, millions of memories,
Some clear, some foggy,
The sweets Didu made for me,
Vivid green and pink,and full of love,
And games of Blind Man's Buff with her...
The fragrance of fresh rain and moist mud
And the excitement of the first day of school
The peach coloured walls of my home at Lucknow
And trips to Universal, some alone, some with company
The Gulmohar outside my room
That cheerfully burst into floral flames, year after year,
'Ojo' pepsicolas, in Orange, Chocolate and Kalakhatta flavours,
Candy, her coat first jet black, then peppered with age,
Drifting off to sleep amidst the noise of vehicles at Vandana House
Coloured idols of God,repainted by Kaku every year,
The snails perched on taps at Mahanagar,
Both scaring and fascinating me,
The shelves at Colonelgunj,unchanged year after year,
Photographs remaining where they have always been,
The black-and-white TV at Didi's house,
Which she claimed turned to colour while I was not around,
Pixie and constant smiles,
Mamma's looooong loooong hair,right down to her knees,
Swaying playfully as she walked,
Me perched atop Papa's shoulders,
Literally 'on top of the world',
Papa ducking to enter our building's low entrance,
Me gliding in easily, and feeling proud of the fact,
Not realising that it was because I was too short,
Purple shoes that Mashimoni got for me,
A size small, and therefore tight,
'Candy Park' and 'Khelni Ghar',
A green phone on top of the shelf,
"507100".
So many more thoughts
So many more memories
And so many more to come.
Much Love,
Me.
Reminiscences...
"I look out of my window, and see a group of kids sitting where we used to...only,it isn't us......"
-Adi, 15th December,2009
She creates subtle magic with her words; she does the same with her silence too.
We became friends over tasteless breakfasts, cups of excessively sugared coffee, a bizarre internship experience, potential and discarded magazine articles, blogging, and most of all, Music. And, I would have to confess – she came into my life right when I needed a friend. Almost like a Godsend.
As friends, we have experienced, and enjoyed, the congruence of thoughts. And we have had our moments of disagreement too. But I know that happens wherever there is the warmth of love, of true friendship.
There have been times when her inexpressiveness has hurt me, bothered me, confused me. Probably because I am conditioned to thinking that expression and speech go hand in hand. But she teaches me, slowly, steadily, that expression is not about being verbose.
She does not speak it all out like I do. She does not talk unless a question is put directly in front of her. She does other things that befuddle me. And yet, despite all that, she makes sure that whenever I stay over at her place, I get the sole pillow in her room. She spends hours staring at photographs of her baby nephew (the current man in her life), babytalking away to glory. If I drift off to sleep, she drapes a sheet over me. She can suddenly be overcome by a rush of affection and hug me tight, for no apparent reason. She knows exactly how much space to give, and when to interfere. She takes time out to listen, and to advise. She cares enough to chide me when I do something wrong – even when it is something as trivial as wearing accessories that can turn into potential fashion faux pas. She obliges me when I ask her to teach me songs, or help me with complicated Bengali lyrics. She does not tell me what I want to hear; rather, she tells me exactly what I need to be told, whenever I am en route to thinking an immature thought or making an incorrect decision. And she does a million other things which gently speak of affection, of concern. And that is how I learn, that love isn’t about being vocal. More often than not, it is simply about being Sri.
Much Love,
Me.
Everything
Seems like so long a wait
I give up,
Then I begin to hope again...
And then I give up once more.
When will the wait come to an end?
Will the wait ever come to an end?
Is this only so that something better comes my way?
Who is to say?
I try
Oh, so hard,
To do other things that make me happy
But there are times
When I feel
Like I'm fooling myself.
Will the spurts of my optimism
End up looking like conniving illusions?
Or will it be worth the long,long wait?
I do not know,
Nor do you.
Maybe someone up there knows,
But I guess He has other problems to solve at the moment.
So I begin to dare
Dare to feel that glimmer of hope again.
Someday,maybe someday,
My hope will not let me down.
And the long, long wait
Will be worth it.
Dear Rahul,
I am sorry I did not leave you a scrap, or write on your wall, the way others did. The truth is, I simply couldn’t. I could not ask you to “Rest In Peace” the way everyone else did, I could not ask you to take care, I could not ask God why He did that to you. Did you think I was unfair? Or cold? Did you wonder why I kept visiting your Orkut and Facebook profiles, why I kept looking at all your pictures?
You weren’t my closest friend. But you were a friend. We acknowledged each other with smiles and the occasional short conversation. And ever so often, you added a smile to my day with your comments on my FB posts. Even as I write this, it bugs me that I never took the time out to specially write on your wall. I am so sorry.
Do you remember the day all of us went out to eat at Galleria, Rahul? That was the first time we actually spoke. Amidst parathas and schezwan rolls. Today, I passed the same green benches that we all had sat on that afternoon. A group of friends was sitting there today too. Oblivious to the shocks that life can suddenly bomb on them. How unpredictable life can be.
I do not know what else I can say. Fragments of memories flow erratically in my mind. Of how I always thought that you bore an uncanny resemblance to a friend of mine. Of the time you “photo-graphed” all the notes I had made, as against “photo-copying” them, so you could refer to them before your interview. Of the last, the very last time you wrote on my wall, on the 19th of November. Ironically, your words were “Facebook se kabhi retirement nahin milegi”.
I struggle to find more memories. But we had very little of them. Maybe that is good in a way – for then, the main thing I remember is your smiling, happy-go-lucky face.
I miss you, Rahul.
Always,
Tanushree.
There is Melody in your voice,
There is Music in your name,
Priceless is your Laughter,
Like the Freshness of Rain…
Your eyes light up at simple joys
Your words have a mind of their own
Your smile can break through darkness
With you around, one is never alone
A friend like you is a Rarity,
Someone we will always treasure,
And on this birthday and forever, Sri,
We wish you Happiness beyond Measure!
Wishing You The Best Always,
ALL OF US!!!!!
Sometimes, you make mistakes. And that is absolutely alright. I wouldn't have learnt so much if I hadn't made my share of mistakes...and what is more,I still have LOTS of learning to do!!
Much Love,
Me.
Probably for the first time in my life, I do not want to speak.I do not know why.
I have tried Speech...now, I want to try Silence.Maybe because that is the only way out.
Much Love,
Me.
This is what they call the ‘Placement Season’. Maybe I should’ve put those two words in capitals – it is kind of a big deal, you know. All of a sudden, I can see the students of my batch being segregated on the basis of ‘Placed’ and ‘Not Placed’. Those who are placed are happy and relaxed, those who aren’t are anxious, fidgety and en route to becoming frustrated.
All these months, I kept telling myself that I wouldn’t allow this placement stress to affect me. But the strange bit is that with the onset of this ‘new season’ in our MBA life, the pressure is more than palpable. It is still early, I know – college goes on for four more months - but since education today is all about ‘relativity’, the creation of this pressure, this stress, is also something that comes about looking at others.
Some of my batchmates will get placed early enough, some will get placed late, and some of them will not get placed at all. That is all, and that is absolutely okay. I do not want to get stuck in that rut of “i-did-not-get-placed-but-he-did-and-therefore-i-must-be-dumb-the-selection-procedure-was-stupid-the-whole-thing-is-a-farce-why-was-i-rejected-what-will-become-of-me-now”…you get the idea. I want to remember that this is just a teensy part of life. I am capable enough of getting a good job, and making it on my own; a few random selection procedures cannot dictate or define my caliber.
Do I sound confident, or do I sound defensive? Again, that is a question of relativity. The fact is, I don’t really want to care. Everything will happen when it has to. All I can do is work hard. And I know I will.
Much Love,
Me.
There are things I want to say. But then,silence has its own virtues...and lack of expression, its own bliss.
Much love,
Me.
We were called the Siamese Triplets – Jennifer, Prarthana and I. Because that is how we were, inseparable.
They were the divas of our batch. Pretty, popular, intelligent, talented, famous, every guy’s dream. And I was their relatively ugly, scared-to-show-her-face, hopelessly-unsure-of-herself batchmate. But despite all our differences, we bonded over little schoolgirl issues – exams, homework, peer pressure, pimples, Elle 18 nail-enamel shades, the latest movies and chartbusters, gossip, dirty jokes, crushes, and heartbreaks.
There were also those days, months, rather, when we drifted apart. Class 10 was probably the most difficult time for me. Jen was the House Prefect, Prarth was the Games Prefect, and I was the quintessential nobody, who could, at best, try her hand at random cultural activities. I don’t know if they went away, slightly swayed by that popularity, or I walked off, overcome by my inferiority. But then we pulled back again. And I’m glad we did. I will, in particular, remember one incident throughout: the three of us were studying at Jenny’s house, and a professor of ours called her up and invited them over for a party that he was throwing for his ‘selected’ students. He knew I was there with them, but clearly ignored the fact and did not bother to invite me as well. My friends did not accept the invitation either, and explained to (the clearly upset) me exactly why they had been called. (I’ll let the reason remain a secret here). And therefore, why such an invitation was irrelevant to them. That day, I realised that we were way above such trivial issues.
It has been eight years since we passed out of school. And even though we do not meet regularly, I have no complaints. In the interim, Jen was away for a couple of years, for her M.A. But I don’t think either of us felt the distance. She remains one of my biggest confidantes. We kept our bonds intact over phonecalls while she was in Hyderabad, and over coffee-conversations when she was here. Prarth and I have kept in touch too – not often, but I can still safely call her one of my best friends, because we always pick up where we left off.
Tonight, Prarth leaves for London, to do her post-graduation in Architecture. As we hugged each other good-bye this afternoon, I warned her to stay in touch at least from UK, because she can be painfully lazy when it comes to socializing. And that is when she said, ‘I know now that we are going to be in touch forever. If we’ve come this far, we can go on till the end’. I know that is true, and I’m proud of it.
The Siamese Triplets haven’t had the opportunity to meet up for a long, long time. And I do not know when they will. But I can vouch for one fact – whenever they meet, no matter how old they are, their topics for discussion may change, but conversation will still be effortless, because at heart, they will remain the same giggly schoolgirls that they were, not so long ago.
Much Love,
Me.
You know the best way to feel happy when you are in the dumps?? Well, just think of someone who badly needs to smile, and be the cause of that someone's smile right then. Try it, and get back to me!!!
Much Love,
Me.
Distances
Have their own virtues
The virtues are greater than the vices
And the sooner we realize this
The happier we will be.
Everything in this world
Is part of a plan
A well constructed process
That will keep unfolding
As we go on.
On those days
When you are low,
Do not be afraid to dream of hope,
For darkness means that light is ahead,
Waiting to welcome you with open arms.
Have fun,
But remember, there are hopes someone has from you
Just the way you have hopes from someone else
Try your best not to disappoint
And God will do His best to keep disappointment away from you.
You may have cried yesterday,
But that is alright,
For Life is a blend of the Sweet and the Spice.
And besides, has anything that ever made you cry,
Not made you stronger?
I might not be able to change things for you in a big way
But I’ll be glad if I can make one little difference
Or rather, be that one transition from your frown to your smile.
No matter what
Everyday, in your own little way
Be your own best friend
And I promise you,
You will smile.
Most of all,
Do not ever, ever forget,
Come what may,
That there is a God.
He doesn’t just stay up above…
He is everywhere.
And He is doing His best
To make things better for you.
Because you mean a LOT to Him.
If he delays your smile,
It just means,
That he’s strategizing better, so you can smile for longer.
So give Him the benefit of doubt
And soon, what you most need,
Will be yours to keep.
There is only one thing that remains true
Happiness is always yours to keep
So smile, because there is no dearth of reasons,
Smile, simply because,
Life is Beautiful,
Or en route
To becoming more beautiful than it already is.
I can’t believe how fast time flies. It feels like it was just the other day that I was struggling with my Mock-CATS. The frustration I felt back then was so strong, I can still almost reach out and touch it. But that is a different story altogether.
It seems like just yesterday that I received my IBS interview call letter. It was the 31st of December 2007, and my parents were thrilled that I had received my first call. “See, this shows that the New Year will be very lucky for you,” they said. Now that I look back, I think they were right.
I remember the day of my interview. It was raining like crazy, and in that biting cold weather, after cursing the illogical rickshaw-wallahs of Hyderabad, my father and I got into a crowded bus to the IBS headquarters. Ten hours later, I had my confirmed call letter in my hand. I was going to join this college. My MBA was about to begin. FINALLY.
And now, here I am, five months away from graduating. But now, I do not want to leave. I do not want this to end. I do not know where and how a year and a half just whizzed past. There was a time when I thought that MBA will ruin my happiness because I did not think I had the remotest aptitude for it – my fears worsened when my colleague at work told me, while I was preparing for CAT, that I will never make any friends in MBA.
But you know what? Everyone was proved wrong. Me included. Because I can vouch for the fact that my MBA is the most amount of fun I have had so far in my academic life. It hasn’t been the smoothest ride, but had it been one, I wouldn’t have been the changed person I am today.
And about what my colleague said, I can only smile when I think of how incorrect she was. I’ve met the most amazing people here, and I know most of them will be friends for years to come.
I know college life is still not over, and there is a teensy chance that, God forbid, my remaining months here at IBS may not be as much fun, but I just know that no matter what happens, I will look back on MBA, and smile. Because I will remember these moments – moments when I realized that God loved me enough to prove everyone wrong.
Much Love,
Me.
Hi,Friend...just wanted to thank you for being so patient with me even though I don't use you enough.Even though I am unable to do justice to you. You've helped me feel really good,and very connected to Life ever so often...and even though I can't spend enough time with you, I want you to know that I will always value you like crazy,even if I have my own share of hiatuses.
Love you,Blog...thank you for being there always! :)
Always,
Me.
Of all the things in this world, Life is the most unpredictable, and Death, the most predictable.
I cannot sleep over fights.Never.
Sometimes,I think it would be absolute bliss to care a fuck.And I aspire to be there someday.
I don't like it when people go far away. And I don't mean emotionally...I just don't like them to be so far away that I cannot get up and go meet them in fifteen minutes flat.
Most of my relatives have lived in a different city-sometimes even a different country.Some of my closest friends too. And the funniest(sarcastically) bit of my life is,that as long as I am not particularly close to a person, the person lives close enough.And then, soon after we are inseparable,somehow or the other,the person has to move away.
I know many of you will vouch for the uncontained thrill of seeing a loved one after really long.But I would still prefer having all of them by my side.And hanging out with them whenever I could.
If I were given one single wish for a lifetime,a power that I could use at will, I would change the rules of the Atlas.
Much Love,
Me.
The very day I met Aalap for the first time, I managed to induce a strong sense of fear in him. That was a little over five years ago, but he is still as scared of me. Actually, even more, if that is possible.
Aalap is my junior from school. And we met through a common friend, Deneb. The day we met, we were at Deneb’s birthday party at this posh restaurant, and I was exhausted because I had just finished my first year final exams. All I wanted to do was to go home and SLEEP like I had never slept before. But all Deneb and the guys could do throughout, was tease me about something or the other. And I was too darn tired to retaliate. Finally, after the meal ended, and I almost got up to leave, everyone decided to order dessert. By then, I had positively lost it. I was exhausted, I was terribly sleep-deprived, and my juniors, many of whom I was meeting for the very first time that day, were taking my case ROYALLY. The only person I knew really well at the party was Deneb, so when we came back home (READ: AT ONE-THIRTY A.M.), and Deneb came to say good-night, I slapped him H A R D. And stormed off home.
I did not know it back then, but Aalap had witnessed the slap, and already decided by then that I was someone to be terrified of. So the next time he saw me, many months later, he was scared to even come up and say hello.
We became friends after Deneb migrated to Canada. Our conversations increased, and we found we had a lot in common. He even wanted to do Mass Media, just like me. In fact, we became so close, that I would often wonder how and why we were so connected.
I should mention at this point, that before Aalap was born, his parents had another son, who was just a few days old when he passed away. One day, Aalap and I were discussing birthdays, and how we knew a lot of October-borns. “My brother was also October,” he said to me. “He was born on the 2nd of October 1985, and he passed away on the 26th of October 1985.”
I froze.
“Are you sure it was the 26th of October, 1985?” I asked him. “Yes, my parents told me, and I’m guessing they would know,” he quipped.
And then, I told him. “Aalap, I was born on the 26th of October, 1985.”
For a while, neither of us said anything. Honestly, right then, I felt weirdly guilty, and I have NO idea why. It was as if I felt responsible for his brother’s death.
And then, Aalap said something I will never, ever forget. “You know, maybe God decided to take my elder brother away because he wanted me to have an even better elder sister.” I cannot tell you how relieved, how ecstatic that made me feel.
And that explained the connection between him and me.
Last year, Aalap and I had a fallout of sorts. He would not stay in touch, and that would drive me mad. In fact, it has been almost two years since I saw him last, and we live fairly close. He did not make any effort to call up, to apologise, and that really hurt me. I thought I did not matter to him any more.
But then, I called him one day, and he confessed how he had picked up the phone a lot of times and dialed my number, but cut the call before it could come through. All because he was scared of how I would react.
**********************************************************************************************************
Even though Aalap and I had our share of friction and lost out on a lot of quality time, I realized some really important facts. I understood that no matter what, things will always remain the same between us – we will always remain this connected – no matter the distance.
And the other - In today’s times, often the sole reason why a broken relationship is left broken, is one’s ego. It is just one small three-letter word, but it has the power to wreck the strongest and the best of bonds. And if we leave this monster out of our lives, and our relationships, we’ll be happier, and therefore healthier people.
Someday, when you have the time, think about someone you loved, but lost. It could be anybody – a lost love, a friend, a parent, a relative, anyone. And think about whether it would be worth your while to bring the person back into your life again. More often than not, it will. I promise you that.
For now, I better conclude this. I need to finish up with my assignments so I can be free on Saturday. You see, Aalap’s coming over, and we have a LOT to catch up on.
Adios!
Much Love,
Me.
People tell me that I have a 'funny' laugh. Often, when I am in my element, laughing away at a joke, others stop and stare at me momentarily, shocked. Family and friends even signal me to key down.
But do I ever oblige? HAH. My laughter is genuine, it is my own, and it is ‘funny’ because it is straight from the heart and not subdued by the fear of what ‘others’ will think. I cannot curb or change my laughter to please some random people out there.
For that matter, I can’t even put in an ‘LOL’ while I am on online chat. It isn’t the true me, you see. “Hahahahaahahahahhaahhahahahahahahaahhahahaahahhaa” is the true me.
Have YOU ever heard me laugh out loud? Trust me, you should. It’s a treat!
Much Love,
Me.
[I wrote this for Shweta before her Engagement.Hope you like it!]
Once upon a time, Destiny waved her magic wand, and two little nine-year old girls met outside a school administration office. One of them was a student of that institution, the other, an aspirant of the same. Destiny waved her magic wand again, and the two became classmates. Destiny continued playing her part, the bond between the two kept strengthening. And one day, the two little girls knew that they would always be inseparable, in mind, spirit and soul.
It wasn’t always a smooth journey; distances threatened their friendship ever so often. First their classes changed. Then the schools did. Then they began living in different cities. So every now and then, the tensions crept in. And did their evil dance.
But the two girls, soul sisters already, pulled on. Always. And today, not so little any more, they keep showing circumstances, that together, they can defeat every crisis that comes their way. So the fights may come and the fights may go, but their friendship goes on forever.
Today, when you are on the threshold of a new life, I can only hope that you know how exhilarated I am for you. You have given me, and everyone else in your life, such simple, yet such beautiful joys all throughout, that I know God can never, ever deprive you of happiness. And so, even though no words can express how much you mean to me, here are a few lines for you…
You have been there by my side through it all –
The laughter, the tears,
The happiness, the fears,
The sugar, the spice,
The naughty, the nice,
The good, the bad,
The sensible, the mad,
The anger, the fun,
The rain, the sun,
The long silences, the incessant talks,
The maddening runs, the leisurely walks,
The fatty foods, the killing diets,
The BFF talks, the BFF fights…
I thank God for giving you to me one day…
For you are one of the best things that happened to me
And I will never cease to be grateful for our Friendship,
It is something I will cherish beyond Eternity…
So here’s wishing You and your Soul mate,
A lifetime of Happiness and Love,
And praying that the Lord Almighty
Showers you with His Blessings every day from Above!
Love & Prayers Always, Tanu :)
On my way back home from college today,a little boy and his elder sister walked in to my compartment to sell some trinkets - kerchiefs, ID card holders and some really pretty mobile pouches. "Bargainaholic" that I am, I decided to buy a few pouches if I could get them for a good price. The little boy, who must have been about six years old, quoted a price of fifty bucks for four pouches.And I happily agreed to buy them.
And then I realised that I had a Chocolate in my bag,a Cadbury Perk that Durgesh had given me in college. Impulsively, I took it out and offered it to the boy. He grabbed it with a delighted grin - an expression that will always remain in my mind, and will always be beyond description.
For a while, he kept staring at it. It was probably something he had never held in his life,until today. "Yeh kitne ka hai?" he asked me. "Pata nahin, mujhe kisi aur ne diya hai", I said, even though I knew very well that it cost ten rupees. Maybe I just did not want to 'quantify' that moment, or his delight.
I asked him to share it with his sister,who was a very pretty little girl,but he mischievously (and possessively) shook his head at my request. I hope he did share it with her,after all. Then he got off at Mulund, waved out happily, and my train chugged out of the station.
Sometimes, strange things happen to you, and they generally happen for a reason. I don't know why Durgesh gave me that chocolate specifically today, but I do know that if he hadn't done so, a little slum kid would have been deprived of a lot of delight. Because a ten-rupee chocolate to him is what a BMW, or a mansion, or even the touch of a loved one, for that matter, is to you and me.
I don't know how many points God gave me for my little deed today...but I can tell you this much - today, I walked out of Thane station with happy spring in my stride. And a delightful grin as well.And to tell you the truth, it wasn't so much of me 'Perk'-ing the little fellow up; it was quite the contrary.
I'm so happy I made a happy memory!
Much Love,
Me.
I have seen the difference in the expressions. When I say IIT-IIM, the eyes and mouth open wide in wonder, and a “WOW” escapes the lips. And when I say IBS, the forehead creases into a frown, and a clueless “Where is it?” is what I invariably hear.
Some weeks ago, I met a girl from another branch of my college. She was also interning at L & T, so we just got talking. Among other things, we discussed our families, and the moment I told her that my Dad is an IIT - IIM, she said, “What?? And you are in IBS? You should be ashamed of yourself!!”
I laughed it away then, but right now, even as I put it down, I can feel tears springing up in my eyes.
Okay, so my father is an IIT - IIM. And any guy with even half a brain can say just how smashingly brilliant that combination is. Even as I speak of it to someone, I can sense the admiration in the listener’s eyes. And simultaneously, I can see this hint of disbelief, probably of mockery even, that someone like me is my father’s daughter.
Unlike my father, I did not like Maths and Physics in school. I was, still am, petrified of those subjects. It was probably this fear that prevented me from scoring well in them. But I loved the languages that we were taught, and was very keen on pursuing literature post school. Somehow, commerce seemed to be a more “lucrative” option then, and so I took it up. The outcome was disastrous – I could NOT take those dry, tasteless, juiceless subjects. Over the years, I have seen that commerce students and engineers possess a certain aptitude for logic and analysis – I lacked that totally. To make matters worse, because I had a good score in my ICSE, I got through to Podar, supposedly the “best college for commerce”. And I was disgusted with the professors and the dilapidated infrastructure there. I remember sitting up at nights, crying away, because I hated what I had to study. I wanted to drop a year and take up Arts just so that I could go to a better college and study language and literature. But I stayed put.
Finally, when I was in Class 12, I went in for an aptitude test. And it showed, not surprisingly, that I had tremendous inclination for the arts – media, literature and language. I put in all I could and finished off with my final exams, and succeeded in scoring an 81%. Okay, so that isn’t an amazing score, but it was a massive uphill task for me, what with subjects I can still puke on.
Mass Media was the most enjoyable part of my education ever. I loved every minute of what we were taught. We had subjects like Creative Writing, Cinema, Photography and everything else that I could positively gorge on. And so it’s no surprise that I scored well throughout.
But then, graduation came to an end and MBA seemed to be the most ‘suitable’ course. Honestly, I was never very sure of it – but because I did not know what else I could do here in India, I started with the coaching classes.
I don’t know if this makes me sound like a loser, but I felt like I was back to being seventeen again, where I just did not enjoy what I was studying. Apart from having Maths to deal with, I also had to study English - something that I had loved throughout - in a very different, very uninteresting manner. But I kept at it. Ultimately, after long months of struggle and frustration, I got accepted at IBS Mumbai.
I know that IBS - M is not even in the same orbit as IIM – B. Sometimes, when I compare myself with my father, I feel ashamed. And embarrassed. I could never have the same perseverance, the same go-getter attitude that is so characteristic of him. He is a workaholic; I work just as much as necessary. He has happily sacrificed a lot to be where he is today and to give me such a comfortable life; I find it extremely difficult to give up things I love. He is exceptionally organised; I am just the opposite. He is a perfectionist; I am laidback. He is an accomplished artist; I draw like a four-year old.
But sometimes when I ponder over how I have always been so different from my father, I think of all the good things I have inherited from him. To begin with, it is from him that I have learnt to have a drive, a passion for executing all my responsibilities sincerely, regardless of whether I like them or not. (At the cost of sounding immodest, I’ll say that I wouldn’t have been a good student throughout, if I had just given up). My love for languages has been his other gift to me. My love for books is a third. My love for animals, a fourth. A liberated attitude, the need to be extremely clear and precise in expression, and emotions towards inanimate objects like old writing pads and letters are some more. Most of all, it is his simplicity, his sense of humility that I find in myself. And there is so much more than I can enlist.
For all that I am, weaknesses, radically different interests et al., my father has accepted me and cherished me. When he is strict, I know it is because he wants only the best for me. So no matter what happens, to me, my father will always remain a Legend. I can say effortlessly, that I am the luckiest daughter in the world, to have been born as my father’s only child. I don’t think anything I ever say can explain how much he amazes me, and how much I respect him and admire him. To me, he will forever be the benchmark – I will always measure any man who is important enough to me, against my father.
And you know what? Honestly, the mockery, shame and embarrassment that I have had to deal with because I am not an IIT-IIM, or even remotely close, is an incredibly small price to pay for being the daughter of the wonderful man, the phenomenon that is MY father. I Love you, Papa, and I am SO proud to be YOUR daughter.
Strangely, cooking always stirs me up a great deal. I can’t really understand how and why, but the thrill it gives me is reason enough to put these questions at bay.
So today, after enough of fretting and feeling jobless, I decided to make something. Or, rather, BAKE something. And within minutes of writing the previous blog, I had started my research. I found a recipe online for a different type of chocolate cake -‘Molten Chocolate’, it was called - and decided, on the basis of the easy availability of its ingredients, that I would try it out.
And so we began. Here’s how to go about it, just for your reference:
You will require:
• 3 eggs
• 170 g of bittersweet chocolate [even regular chocolate will do]
• 1.5 cups granulated white sugar
• 125 g unsalted butter
• 1/8 tsp white vinegar [or cream of tartar]
• 1 tsp pure vanilla essence
If you have the ingredients in place, it shouldn’t take you more than 45 minutes to an hour.
1) First separate the eggs – yolk from white.
2) Mix 1/3 cup of the sugar with the yolk. Preferably, beat it in a mixer.
3) Add the vanilla essence to the sugar-yolk mixture, then beat it again.
4) Take the egg white and whip it gently till it becomes frothy. Then add the vinegar to it and whip it up again.
5) Heat the chocolate and the unsalted butter together till they melt, then mix them well.
6) Add the sugar-yolk-vanilla essence mixture to the chocolate-butter mixture.
7) Add the egg white – vinegar mixture to the above mixture.
8) Take small moulds (to make small pies) or a big dish (for one big cake) and butter the rim and bottom.
9) Sprinkle the remaining sugar on the sides and bottom of the buttered moulds / dish.
10) Pour the molten mixture into the dish, and place it in the microwave for about 10 minutes.
11) The sides will swell up and become crusty, while the centre remains soft.
12) Test with a knife to ensure the cake isn’t sticking to it. If it isn’t, your cake is ready!! Yay!
13) You can top it up with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. But it tastes great even minus the toppings.
Mine turned out to be slightly different from the picture, (it turned out to be a really soft cake instead of one with a molten centre) probably because I used a microwave and not an oven. But it still tasted really nice. Personally, I think if you are making one single cake instead of many small pies, slicing it will be really difficult if the inside is gooey.
So, this is how I turned an ‘almost-wasted’ day into a really happening, productive one. Wonder what I’ll try the next time I’m bored and lazy!!
Much Love,
Me.
There are days when I am raring to go, all ready to face the world. And then there are those days when I feel totally jobless. Even when I have plenty of jobs to do, that is. Today is one of those days. I feel like doing absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.
I need something that zaps me up and gets my creative juices flowing!!!Pronto!!!
At about 4 a.m. this morning, I woke up for some reason, and felt this really strong bright light straight in my eye. Who in the right mind, I thought, would switch on a light so strong at this hour??
And then I realized. It was no light; it was the full moon, in all its shining glory. I jumped out of bed, hunted in the dark for my spectacles, found them surprisingly soon (I can’t manage to locate them even in broad daylight) and put them on. Aah, what a lovely sight. So beautiful, so serene and so mesmerizing. I could just keep looking.
I wanted to take a picture, but I knew my camera wasn’t good enough to capture the magnificence of the scenery. I really wanted to wake Mamma up to share my moment of delight but I knew that she would have trouble falling asleep again, if she was woken up in between. So I kept looking at the moon, specs on my eyes, till I drifted off to sleep.
I still don’t know how or why I woke up at that precise moment, to find the moon saying hello with that mischievous brilliance – but I’ll tell you this much, I’m a complete sucker for all things natural – skies, clouds, rains, greenery, sunsets and sunrises…you get the drift. For some reason, I think God decided to wake me up to involve me in one of his creative moods. I am so grateful to Him for that. And I’m still smiling.
Much Love,
Me.
Silver wisps of dreams in my eyes
Smooth sunshine on my face
Thick, white and blue waters alongside
Cold, wet grass beneath my feet
Cotton clouds up in the sky
A rainbow smiling from above
The breeze tousling my hair
Half a cube of chocolate melting in my mouth
Aah…Bliss.
Expectations. Keep away from them. They’ll beckon you sweetly, even seductively, sometimes, and then throw you from an allegorical altitude in such a way that you crash. HARRRD.
Expectations. Keep away from them.
Theoretically, ‘Status’ refers to a ‘rank’ or a ‘position’ or a ‘grading’ or a ‘standing’. But thanks to Instant Messengers, the word seems to have taken on a new definition altogether. For example, even as I type this, Sumi’s status reads ‘Zapped!’, Suraj’s reads ‘Sleeping’, Vidhya’s reads ‘Working…’, Neha’s has her blog link, and most importantly, mine says ‘The Eye Has It’, because my left eye has gone all weird and red and I think it might be conjunctivitis.
So, limited status options are passé; today, statuses have varied statuses and roles to play. Sometimes they tell us how or what one is feeling right then, sometimes they are meant to puzzle and evoke related questions and sometimes, they are there for plain amusement.
A certain friend, ‘A’, shall I call him, had a weird question as his status today. It said “Am I Fickle-Minded, Rude…and blah-blah and RANDOMLY SICK?” I immediately pinged him and asked him why he wanted to know something like that. “Because someone told me I was like that”, he said.
I particularly think statuses give one away. Highlight one’s insecurities too, at times. Like when ‘A’ told me why his status was like that, I immediately asked him what he perceived himself to be. I told him that one idiot denigrating him did not mean he ought to demean himself. Luckily, he realized. And his status is now something much more cheerful.
Some smart ones stick to the template statuses, but other frivolous, zany, spirited and most importantly NUTTY souls like me prefer to design their own spicy catch-phrases. The best part about a status, I think, is that it gets people to notice you - and talk to you. There have been times when I haven’t spoken to someone for a fairly long period of time, but a beguiling status message has persuaded me to start a conversation with the person. And we have started having more regular conversations post that, courtesy - that one intriguing status.
It’s strange, and sweet, how one simple invention can play such versatile roles. I have no idea whose brainchild it was, but kudos to him or her. Mr. or Ms. Status probably did not even realize the significance of that one little brainwave. As for my status currently, you can say it is “Clueless as to how to end this post”. So I guess I’ll just sign off, leaving you all to ponder for a minute about statuses and their consequences!
Much Love,
Me.
Watched Class of ’84 yesterday. And it was, like they say, “Paisa Vasool”.
The play begins when seven friends meet up as a group for the first time in twenty-two years after their eighth friend dies. And they talk, reliving old memories, burying old hatchets and digging up new ones. Although it has no storyline in particular, it tells many stories in that short span of ninety minutes. It talks of adjustments in marriages, of unconsummated love stories, of prolonged singlehood, of successful and unsuccessful careers and their vices, of secrets untold, and a lot more. But most importantly, it deals with friendships. Not just how they start off and end, but also all that happens in between.
And, as always, I was forced to think.
I am twenty-three, and not thirty-nine, like the characters in the play. And yet, I know I don’t have to wait for sixteen more years to witness the ups-and-downs in friendship. But, when I look back sixteen years later, I will definitely ask myself how much of a role I had to play in keeping, or breaking, any relationship that I experienced.
People say that I ‘nurture relationships beautifully’. That I do the best I can to keep them intact. The general idea is that to maintain a bond, one needs to give unconditionally, and give happily. What bugs me is that this is exactly what I have been doing, for all the relationships that matter to me - and yet, not all of them have turned out successful. In fact, sometimes when I think of all the ties that soured in the last two years, I actually start questioning myself, and my integrity in them. It pains me like crazy when I think of those friends…of Ally, of Aalap…and…maybe even Ron. I don’t understand why, despite my best efforts, these bonds withered away. Sometimes I wish, like a stupid little four-year old who lives in the world of fairy-tales, that a beautiful fairy would come down from the heavens, and set things right with a simple swish of her wand.
But then, I wonder…have I ever, ever done anything, to initiate this disintegration? No matter how hard I struggle to find a ‘yes’, I always fail. And I know that when I look back, at the age of forty, or even earlier or later, this ‘failure’ to find an answer in the affirmative, is something I’ll always be proud of. Because somehow, despite being an only child, and having most of…heck,let’s face it, ALL of my whims and fancies fulfilled, and sitting like a queen on the lap of luxuries, I have been lucky enough to value everything and everyone in my life. I do not build relationships for my own vested interests – I build relationships with those I love, because they deserve to be loved. And if they turn away, yes, it does hurt really badly, but I have a feeling, that someday, when Ally, Aalap…and…most definitely Ron…look back on their lives, and think of me, they will wish that it was one bond they had kept, and not allowed to wither. I am not saying I will have the last laugh; friendship is not about laughing at someone when you know you are right and your friend is wrong. But I know that I will never feel guilty.
I know all my blog posts are, and all of them in future will be, stuffed and encrusted with emotions. To many, I probably sound like an emotional, idealistic idiot. Maybe I am one. But my absolute loyalty, obstinacy and genuineness go hand in hand with my emotions, my idealism and my idiocy – like it, or lump it. I’ll admit unabashedly that at times when my relationships go sour, I feel like I am a very wrong person. But that feeling passes in a while. What remains, is the confidence that some years down the line, when I look back on all the people in my life, I will not be the one harbouring guilt. Because come what may, I will remain the person who knows how to value relationships and people. Forever.
Much Love,
Me.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could erase it all. Like the delete function in a computer. So that there would be no memories, none at all. There will only be Bliss.
Sometimes. Just sometimes.
When you think life has given you a good reason to cry,
Find a reason to Smile on your own.
When others pull you down and low,
Think of every single time you shone.
When your days are Cloudy and Bleak,
Go in search of your own Sunshine,
Whenever you feel you’re going through the Blues,
Think of all the times you were on Cloud - Nine.
When bad times rain down on you,
Create your own Rainbow Bright,
When everything around you is pitch dark,
Be your own Beacon of Light
Because what they always say is true…
You have the ability, the strength and the charm,
So do not wait for someone to pull you out of gloom,
For “The Best Place to Find a Helping Hand, is at the End of Your Own Arm”
Much Love,
Me.
