On Aalap, and Relationships...

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.

Laughter Challenge-d?

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.

Soul Sisters Forever!

[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 :)

The "Perks" In Life...

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.

just...

I'm tired.really,really tired.

And I love you,God.Big,warm hug.

Being My Father's Daughter

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.

How I changed one of 'Those' Days to one of 'These'...

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.