Thursday, May 31, 2007

To Crib or Not to Crib..

Corporate life and its very overwhelming side-effects (plenty, on which I shall elaborate in detail later..if you haven't had enough of it so far, that is) have been one of the prime factors of inspiration (if not the only) for the genesis of my blog.

You know... I've read blogs on politics,societal hypocracy,college pressure, family knots,patriotism and some on improving your culinary skills too and all these blogs would be really enticing and not to mention, insightful.

I'd always wonder what I would blog on bearing in mind the multifarious topics that will interest both me and a common reader so that one day an arbit reader would exclaim out loud.. 'Ah good blog! I should definitely come back and learn more.'

But try as I might, I am exceedingly incapable of refraining from centring my blogs around the common-denominator, 'Work'.
And it doesnt stop with that..

From work, springs more work...which leads to pressure...which brings us to tension...taking us to dissatisfaction, and eventually my most favourite comfort-zone, 'cribbing'

Ah, cribbing!
Now don't you uncategorically dismiss this act as a trite activity.
Judgemental you!

Convincing and captivating cribbing comes only with practice and how convincingly you enthrall your sympathizing audience depends on how well you've mastered this art (and of course the sort of people you're subjected to at work...but thats just a tag added-on for humour. Or is it?)

I for one am the indeclared Mistress of Cribbing. Why, in fact, 'crib' is my middle name (after whining, fusspot, and lazy-bum of course)

And you know what?
Cribbing is contagious too. In a fun sort'ov way.

Well...picture wouldn't want your life to sound all mega 'peachy' over the phone when your poor friend's stuck at work with absurd timings, a crappy home...with crappy roomates...with an abominable boss..not to mention the miserable pay she might be getting.

So what can you do?
You can't undo her crappy life-style...No siree!
But what you can do, is make your life sound a little less chirpy...just trying to make your friend feel better, if not good.
So you do an itsy-witsy bit of cribbing in front of your depraved friend.
Like a harmless drink in front of your boss.
No harm after all.
Its not going to change anything anyway.

Thats harmless, steadfast and unadulterated cribbing for you. :)

The problem only rises when this becomes a habit and when you blame all your problems on one soul reason.
This is whats called 'uncool' cribbing
That is when you need an urgent metamorphosis on your outlook on life, in general. much for uncalled-for philosphy-preaching.
(Please dont hate me for this)

So...will my blogs be worthwhile and constructive henceforth??

umm.... Next kosteen please :D

A forward I accidentally happened to read. Somethink to think about.

Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air-
conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express could not cool his frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to air travel.
It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason with the adminperson, it was the savings in time.
As PM, he had so many things to do.

He opened his case and took out the laptop, determined to put the time to some good use.

"Are you from the software industry sir," the man beside him was staring appreciatively at the laptop.

Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive car.

"You people have brought so much advancement to the country sir. Today everything is getting computerized."

"Thanks," smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look.

He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young and stocky like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of place in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his free traveling pass.

"You people always amaze me," the man continued, "You sit in an office and write something on a computer and it does so many big things outside."

Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naivety demanded reasoning not anger. "It is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of writing a few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it." For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software Development Lifecycle but restrained himself to a single statement. "It is complex, very complex."

"It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid," came the reply.

This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence came into his so far affable, persuasive tone.

"Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we have to put in.Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work. Just because we sit in an air-conditioned office does not mean our brows do not sweat.
You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe me that is no less taxing."

He had the man where he wanted him and it was time to drive home the point.

"Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket between any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized booking centres across the country. Thousands of transactions accessing a single database, at a time concurrency; data integrity, locking, data security. Do you understand the complexity in designing and coding such a system?"

The man was stuck with amazement, like a child at a planetarium. This was something big and beyond his imagination. "You design and code such things."

"I used to," Vivek paused for effect, "But now I am the Project Manager,"

"Oh!" sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over, "so your life is easy now."

It was like being told the fire was better than the frying pan. The man had to be given a feel of the heat.

"Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder. Responsibility only brings more work. Design and coding! That is the easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done in time and with the highest quality. To tell you about the pressures, there is the customer at one end always changing his requirements, the user wanting something else and your boss always expecting you to have finished it yesterday."

Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with self- realisation. What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while defending the truth. "My friend," he concluded triumphantly, "you don't know what it is to be in the line of fire."

The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization.
When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that surprised Vivek.

"I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire," He was staring blankly as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast expanse of time.

"There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the cover of the night. The enemy was firing from the top. There was no knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom. In the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top only 4 of us were alive."

"You are a..."

"I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 J&K Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in Kargil. They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a land assignment. But tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it makes life easier. On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues lay injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding behind a bunker. It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to safety."
"But my captain refused me permission and went ahead himself. He said that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put the safety and welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety and welfare of the men he commanded."

"His own personal safety came last, always and every time. He was killed as he shielded that soldier into the bunker. Every morning now, as I stand guard I can see him taking all those bullets, which were actually meant for me. I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire."

Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of his reply. Abruptly he switched off the laptop. It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a daily part of life; a valour and sense of duty which he had so far attributed only to epical heroes.

The train slowed down as it pulled into the station and Subedar Sushant picked up his bags to alight.

"It was nice meeting you sir."

Vivek fumbled with the handshake. This hand had climbed mountains, pressed the trigger, and hoisted the tricolour. Suddenly as if by impulse,he stood at attention and his right hand went up in an impromptu salute.
It was the least he felt he could do for the country.

PS: The incident he narrates during the capture of Peak 4875 is a true-life incident during the Kargil war. Capt. Batra sacrificed his life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was within sight.
For this and his various other acts of bravery he was awarded the Param
Vir Chakra the nation's highest military award.

Live humbly, there are great people around us, let us learn!

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Life's Lesson #300507.....

Leave all your attitude at home when dealing with the Management.

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Now tell me…

Am I weird just because I sit on my office-chair with my legs crossed ?

Am I pretentious just because I prefer the Queen’s Language to any other?

Am I confused just because my blog says so?

Am I unromantic just because I’m not in love?

Am I content just because I’m not ruthless?

Am I a narcissist just because I love myself?

Am I egoistic just because I think I can?

Am I a spoilt-brat just because I’m the only kid?

Am I a push-over just because I’m accomodative?

Am I aggressive just because I want to get my work done ?

Am I your friend just because I tolerate you?

Am I callous just because I don’t tell my dear ones how much I love them?

Am I cruel just because I have no control over my temper?

Am I a sissy just because I like pink?

Am I selfish just because I don’t wish to share my make up?

Am I vain just because I’m obsessed with my kajal and mascara?

Am I a nice person just because I let you have all the paneer from my dinner plate?

Am I a snob just because I don’t make the first move?

Am I meek just because I don’t rebel?

Am I self-centred just because I don’t volunteer to do your work?

Am I asking for too much when I want some time for myself?

Am I lazy just because I demand a sound 10 hour sleep?

Am I indifferent just because I don’t remember my best friends’ birthdays?

Am I stupid just because I don’t get things instantly?
(Don’t answer that, thank you very much)

Am I jobless just because I put this post up?

Are you, just because you’re reading this?

So many questions…so little time..
Life is unfair.

But Tell me…So what?

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Life's Lesson #564855.....

A fever doesn't let you sleep for nuts....
How many ever sheep you try counting.

Monday, May 21, 2007

I'm learning...

I dunno.
Life, over the last few weeks has become unexpectedly hectic and overwhelmingly flustering.
Thanks to the work-factor I’m a part of, I’m able to keep the insanity in my life live ‘n kickin .
(Goooooo WORK!)

Lets see… lots of deadlines sprouting up, lots of tension in the air, lots of planning, lots of talking, lots of midnight tea, lots of strategy making, lots of strategy re-making, topped with lots of timely goof-ups, lots of laughter, lots of tempers flashing about, lots of frustration, lots of cursing (:D), lots more laughter, lots more midnight tea……….
Yep, quite a lot I’m seeing here with my naïve inexperienced eyes.

The team of ten I spend an average of almost 60 hours a week with, is the most heterogeneous and amajjingly bindaas kind of team…. and can be quite a handful to deal with when I'm tensed and under pressure (which is like…always)

Every day is a new day (well duhh..) but I've come to learn that you don’t always start on a clean slate. You do carry some baggage on to the next day, whether you like it or not.
So I’ve learnt to play it cool….chill, sit back and watch the fun (purely figurative mind you. Can’t afford otherwise)

Something makes me think of this song at this moment.

I'm sittin' here in the boring room
It's just another rainy sunday afternoon
I'm wasting my time, I got nothing to do
I'm hanging around, I'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens and I wonder

I'm driving around in my car
I'm driving too fast, I'm driving too far
I'd like to change my point of view
I feel so lonely I'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens and I wonder

I wonder how, I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree
I'm turning my head up and down
I'm turning, turning, turning, turning, turning around
And all that I can see is just another lemon tree

I'm sittin' here, I miss the power
I'd like to go out, taking a shower
But there's a heavy cloud inside my head
I feel so tired, put myself into bed
But nothing ever happens, and I wonder

Isolation, is not good for me
Isolation, I don't want to sit on the lemon tree

I'm stepping around in the desert of joy
Maybe anyhow I get another toy
And everything will happen, and you wonder

I wonder how, I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see is just another lemon tree
I'm turning my head up and down
I'm turning, turning, turning, turning, turning around
And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree
And I wonder, wonder

I wonder how, I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see, and all that I can see
And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree..

Fools Garden

I’m work-under-progress.
I’m learning.
It slow and crappy.

But I'm liking it..

Friday, May 18, 2007


...My first 15-hour day at work.

Am I on fire or what!


Tuesday, May 15, 2007

A Sip of Coffee for the Beginners' Soul

I was stuck in a meeting this morning with some angr(ej)y folks at work and the amount of continuous yada-yada-yada blah-blah-blah I was subjected to, is just inexplicable.
It was past my lunchtime and this meeting just never seemed to end.

I was beginning to feel hungry...and restless...and fidgety....and agitated...and jumpy, and irritated to say the least 'coz my tummy was now making funny noises and let me tell you, you don't want to be within a 10 metre radius from me when my tummy is no longer under my control.

I was desperate. I'd keep eyeing the door waiting for a miracle to happen.. like for instance, someone coming through the door with lunch on a tray or the bell ringing signalling that all activity ought to stop.
(Bell???? At work?? Anyone having the feeling I skipped college and joined work straight away from school??)

Just when I was I beginning to lose all hope a fellow enters the Conference Room with a tray.
Prayers answered!
Talk about wishful thinkin...Boy, that was quick!

But wait...a tray...with cups?
At 01:30 pm in the afternoon???
Who, in his/her right senses would serve TEA in the afternoon?????!?!?!?!?!?!!?

Fine whatever....I gazed hopefully at that tray while it was gracefully but friggin slowly taking its turn round the table.

I grab that cup when I get the chance.

No...more like...gulp...lick..gulp...gulp...gulp...mmmmm...(burp)

That drink was well deserving...Big smile on face.
But wait..this wasnt tea....this was...wait..its like something I've never tasted before.

Coffee....It was Coffee!

By George!

I drank my first cup of coffee ever, unknowingly that too....shattering all my ancient apprehensions on caffeine, throwing my prejudice against poor-'ol-coffee out the window.

And, you know what?
It didn't taste all that bad.

Think I'll give this drink a try once in a while.
(I'm still loyal to milk and tea though)

Well...whaddya know....looks like coffee,most definitely, is my cup of tea after all:)

Sunday, May 13, 2007

A Song for the Heart

The radio played Anne’s Song a few days back.
Its been more than a decade since I’ve listened to this song and I’d almost totally forgotten what it was like to listen to the most romantic song ever (not that I have a single romantic bone in my body but still)

I remember having listened to this song over ‘n over again some 14 years ago till I could sing it in my sleep (and also till the tape got stuck in our old fashioned tape-recorder which had be thrown out by my disgruntled mother who was disappointed that her 1980’s-ka tape-recorder didn’t last another decade or two.)

There are few songs that please your ears and even fewer songs that go an extra mile in making you a happy person.

Have you ever felt the need to listen to some songs over and over and over again…because of the tantalizing effect they have on you; Some songs which haven’t really been played anywhere in ages, but make you sit back and allow yourself to bask in those abandoned and disremembered tunes the moment the blessed radio or the doordarshan plays them one fine day;
Or some songs,where all you have to do is just listen to them once…and you can feel your heart smile from inside.

Music in its varied forms has always captivated me and I say this at the risk of sounding clichéd. But I, like everyone else, have a set of songs that mean more to me than just rhyming words and addictive tunes.

Paradoxical as it may sound, I don’t have any if these tracks in my lappy or my new Ipod (what better place to flaunt it than here) save one or two of them thanks to the bulk of the population that’s gaga over KK’s voice.
(that would ideally include me by the way)

My hitlist (in no particular order mind you) for eternity would be thus and will never ever be subject to change.

(Well, that’s what I always say :P)

1. Blowing in the Wind - Bob Dylan
2. Hari Tum Haro – M.S. Subhalakshmi
3. Anne’s Song - John Denver
4. The Boxer - Simon ‘n Garfunkel
5. I am a Rock - Simon ‘n Garfunkel
6. Jane Vaalon Zara -Dosti
7. Scarborough Fair - Simon ‘n Garfunkel
8. Yesterday - The Beetles
9. Vanchathonuna set to Raag Karnaranjani-sung by T.N.Seshagopalan
10. Tu hi Meri shad hai
11. Enda Mutho-By Saint Thyagaraja set to Raag Bindumalini sung by T.N.Seshagopalan
(Actually all songs by TNS but I’ll restrain myself from giving too many details)

Now will yours truly, at least now, take some efforts in loading some if not all of her favourite songs into her lappy?


The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

- Bob Dylan

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Lets Talk About Making an Impression

Funny what you put yourself through JUST to make a good impression.
Even funnier how things blow up on your face at the end of the day.
Life, Bah!

Picture this, my boss asks me to send one of those neat meeting invites you can create in Microsoft Outlook for a meeting over the phone, to brief me on some Client-Fundas I ought to be aware of, and in turn enlighten my team.

So ,Friday evening, the excited me fixes up a decent meeting-invite (first time you know.. )all properly worded and stuff, keeping in mind the time-zone-complexity involved in this entire scene.

Meeting for 1 hour.
11:30 am, afternoon, on Sunday.My time
2 am. His time.

Comfy for both my boss and me.He doesn’t sleep early on weekends.. he said so himself.

Nice, meeting invite accepted also.
Not bad na?

So, Saturday afternoon, I ask myself if I have to do some reading-shmeeding, just to go over the company’s policies, so that I don’t sound like a complete jerk on Sunday’s meeting.

Its all about making an impression, remember?

Its Saturday evening, and I haven’t yet bothered to read through any of the relevant pdfs in my mailbox.
Oh well, its probably genetic by now.

Saturday night.
Will not be smitten by the procrastination-bug.
That’s the spirit.
I read all the pdfs in my mailbox…so that I can smartly say… 'Yes Boss, I know that…Oh yes, that too' :P

Fine…apart from that, the least I can do is get a decent note-pad and a pen..that writes (That combination is a luxury in my house…trust me). And to make the call even more convenient on my side, I hunt for my long-lost earphones, so that I don’t have to tilt my head during the entirety of the call.

The checklist before I hit the sack that night….infrastructure, all set.
I’ve told my grandparents not to summon me and make me run any errands for them from 11:30 hours- 13:00 hours.
Rite, done.

Yep all set.
Am I prepared for a meeting or what!!

Sunday morning.

Yawn….stretch….yawn yawn..

Lets look at the clock....

Meeting with boss!!!!!!!!!!!
Frantic hunt for cell under the sheets….missed calls.
Missed calls!!!

Christ…I just slept through a supposed-to-be-meeting with my boss!!!!!!

As if things weren’t ‘great’ enough at work!!!

(Don’t believe me? Check the post downstairs )

I sit on my bed…...and think.
And think.

Any more smart ways to make a good impression??

Friday, May 4, 2007

Its a 'Crazy' night out there


You know, these timings sort of bring out the worst in you. No wonder God programmed all of us to sleep through this time entirely and wake up when the world is devoid of darkness.
Boy….we have one hellova focused fellow up in the skies, I tell you.

Not an axiom I’m coming up with, but with the exasperating experience I’ve had over the past 4 weeks, I think I’m entitled to form my share of judgment.

Night…There are only 3 things you can, ought to and should be doing at this time.
Sleeping……Studying… and thirdly ,well..I’ll leave that to your imagination (ahem..)But I seriously don’t think ‘work’ ought to come anywhere near this list.

People are like the skies…they turn their shades in the absence of the sun.

Wait, did I say people??

I don’t wish to make a universal statement on the global juntha. I’m not that old-and-wise to comment on Human Behaviour ‘n all.
But comment on myself…yes that I can do very well.
I’m beginning to understand myself better every day….Or, every night.
(Night shifts remember? :D)

Let the unit of measurement of Human-Tension, for this discussion, be….say, Litres.
(Might sound crazy but do bear with me..)

If the average tension level of Yours Truly, on a normal working day, be 40 litres..
Night shifts bring up my tension level to a whooping un-precedented 400 litres.

Profound self assessment over the past few weeks has lead to the final conclusion ….. that, I’m unimaginable crazy under pressure.

The funny part of all this is that…my poor project mate is having to bear the brunt of my flaky temper and eccentric idiosyncrasies.

I end up losing my cool and screaming at him every other day…and also shamelessly apologizing every other day.
Crazy crazy cycle this is .
Amazing patience this fellow has… man!!!!!!!!!

Today, …we had quite a lot of documentation to do. It was around 2:30 am….’n we still had miles left…when I totally lost it..and screamed at this Mr. Fellow for not helping me with the doc’n . This shameless act of loose temper was followed by the customary goofy apology I deliver with great ease. This time with more style and élan.

Our crazy crazy conversation goes something like
(Anyone here feeling that I’m using the word ‘crazy’ more often than not )

Oh well..Koi baat nai…read on

(I walk up to this fellow’s seat)

ME: Ravi..
RAVI(eyes anticipating havoc): Ab Kya?
ME: I’m….I’m….sorry .
RAVI(Non-chalant look): Ya, I know
ME(with over-whelming guilt ): Hey..lots of documents…all unfinished business… all drove me visibly insane.
RAVI(sarcastically): Really? I didn’t notice.
ME(detecting the tint of sarcasm):Ya, Whatever. We’re ok na? Not angry or anything na?
RAVI: Ya ya..go your documentation.
ME(alarmed at his shameless reply yet grateful for not being mistaken ): Ya ok..

And I go on to do documentation at some goddamn time at the middle of the night…while Mr. Fellow, is doing some non-documentation work.

That’s what I call style man.
(Or ishtyle… whatever :D)

Now I sit at home…in front of the lappy, at 5:30 am typing this mail…. Asking myself ….is life, or more specific, work, worth all that tension…and all that apology???

Really… what Sahil (my friend,philosopher 'n guide) says…all our problems, in a broader perspective, disintegrate to be minute atoms in the Solar System called Life… So why bother ??
We just have to remember that …In the end, it doesn’t really matter.
(Copyright: Linkin Park)

So…Tension Kai ko lene ka?

Woman's Day...or something like that

I seriously fail to understand what this day is all about.
This 'Women's Day'
Forgive me,but I really am a dumb girl.
My logic is generally acknowledged to work in the most bizarre of ways, so I don't wish to impose it on all of mankind but I still feel that I have the liberty,if not, the right,to proclaim what I'm ponddering over.

With due respect to all the women of this world (a dignified fraternity of which even I am a part of) who feel that this very day has its own significance in the calendar, let me say that I cherish this very day and I do agree,we certainly are a unique species and I don't wish to disprove or antagonize you.

But still, I go on to ask... What exactly are we trying to prove to the world here, on this special day?
The existence of women?
The importance of women?
The crucial and indispensible role we play in the circle of life?
The significance of the weaker sex?
The compassion thats an intrcate part of us??
The extent to which we can make a difference in the society?
The equality,if not the superiority, of the Women-species V's Men-species?

This is something that has always irked me on the dawn of every 8th of March, every year, ever since I was able to think clearly on my own; uninfluenced by the shadow of my parent's and society's thought processes.

Gandhi-Day, Nehru-Day, Netaji-Day..yes understandable.
You pay homage on that one day dedicated to them, bcause you certainly can't remember them everyday.
They are indeed great souls, yes, but come on, they're dead people.

But Tell me...Are women something to be remembered and celebrated on just ONE day in the calendar?
Is that ALL we are???
Somethin to be remembered?

On this day, 8th of March, We thank the woman for being who she is....
while for the rest of the year we watch, in total helplessness, man beat his wife, a child scream at his/her mom, girls harassed on streets, adults throwing their aged-parents into old-age-homes, young girls(and boys)forced into child labour, female-infantiside
We watch all of this with total indifference and non-chalance.

Women have suffered in the past and have been submissive till the dawn on the 19th century.
Yes, women didn't receive the appreciation they deserved in the past.
Yes, women were looked at with scorn and contempt, as useless memebers who could contribute nothing to the family except food and off-spring.

Now things have changed.
But only in a superficial level.

A deep look into the interior villages of India can bring the entire country to shame at the way women are looked at and treated.

Women can't be thanked on just one day.
We are beyond all that.
We have to do something more.

We ought to kick this hypocracy of 'Celebrating Women' out the door...and deal with serious matters.
Are women being treated the way they ought to be, in the real world?

Is a women free to walk out into the streets of Delhi at 11:30 pm without any element of fear?
Can a woman walk into a police station and file a complaint against one of the police-men working there...without anticipating an attack on her family the very next day?

When she can...that will be a revelation and definitely my idea of a celbreation.
That will be my 'Woman's Day'.

Untill then....we can just wait and watch.

Happy Woman's Day!

Helmets are a girl's best friend

Hi Logon!

(The bulk of juntha who read the first line as log-on, please take a long coffee break, come back and start all over again)

Hi Ppl...

I love my helmet!

Hope you guys are doing splendidly well this fine Friday morning!
Bet you hundred bucks that half of you readers spent at least 11 seconds this morning, on your way to work, marvelling at how fast the last one week has sped by, and how last Friday just seemed like....a few days back.
Well...Thats 'Corporate Life ' for you.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Amen to that.

I, for one, have actually stopped cribbing about my life. Cool na?
I, the goddess of complaints...NOT even bothering to make my life sound more crappier than someone else's, indeed a transformation, I might add.

Well lets just put it this way...
Splendrous architectural ambience,ravenous appetite, delicious food, money in the wallet, jovial team-mates, friendly boss, so-far-interesting job (touch wood), decent project, good pay (yeah rite!!), and enthusiastic 'ol me.....
All this sums up to form an ambitious and explosive combination.
Yeah....Thats what YOU might think...but..hehe.....I've STILL found some reasons to crib. ;)
Lets just hope that the light at the end of this tunnel is goddamn bright. ;)
More about my reason-to-crib in my next mail. (Yes, there's more where this came from)

Right....Just a few days back..... I was sitting on my living-room sofa with my legs crossed and eyes gazing at the ceiling (Legs crossed on a sofa...yes,I know I'm weird), and thinking to my-esteemed-self ...
' Ah, Life is stagnant. Stagnant indeed! You need some thrill Maythini ...Something out-of-the-blue....Something that would make you say, Oh yes....That day, god!! Remarkable! I'll never forget that day!! '

hmm....Funny how life ' misinterprets ' what you mean, in the most inexplicable of ways.
Wait....I shall explain.

(I still love my helmet though)

Yesterday,after a good day at work, and a quick conversation with Takloo, I was riding my Scooty home...speeding quite a bit, unable to curtail my excitement to see my father who'd just come home on a 2 week vacation.
( Okay..not speeding a bit, quite a lot actually. 65km/hr is quite a speed for a poor two-stroke engine, called Scooty's Engine, to bear)

Nevertheless...I was just approaching my abode... When I spot a huge garbage bin at the centre of the road.

Let me quickly describe what these blessed 'Garbage bins' in Madras look like.....They are huge, unattractive, stinky, 3 feet high, 2 feet broad and 2 feet long... dark green in colour (which makes them look practically invisible at night time) and last but definitely not the least, a necessary evil.

Ok...My mind took a microsecond to register the presence of the garbage bin ahead and the fact that it was far too opaque for my Scooty to just drive through...So I make a sudden jolt to the left, to circumvent the obstacle.

But to my surprise what do I see on the road....Oil !!!
Yes, oil!
Oil spilt all over the place!!!!!

Ahhhh.....So THATs why the garbage bin was placed on the road as an obstacle...To act as a speed-braker, for people who might skid on the oil that was spilt in front of the bin.

Ah, the irony of late realisation!
Too late!

The oil had already done its job....and my Scooty skid majjjjorly with me on top of it. (Picture Hrithik Roshan in the former half of Kaho Naa Pyar Hai...Its always nice to have a dramatic effect in a story thats being narrated)

I bag falls, myScooty falls...bigggg scary fall !! People come running....blah-blah-blah!
Had bruises allover..but head, untouched, depite falling head first on the road.
My big fat ugly helmet had saved me.
Helmet saved me.
Helmet helmet helmet!!
God bless my helmet.

Helmet helmet helmet......You're something I wont forget...!!
(Think I'll compose a song and dedicate it to this incredible piece of plastic...or metal....or whatever!! )

So...How am I going to conclude this piece of blah-blah?

ONE: Be careful what you wish for. I did get my memorable day after all...But with a sadistic sort of thrill at the end...which, at the end of the day, DID make me say....Ah! That day...I will never forget! (For all the wrong reasons)


TWO : Always love thy helmet.


My Best Friend's Wedding

(Something I wrote a few months back…old stuff can’t hurt)

My best friend got married yesterday. Kal meri yaar ki shadi thi.

This was a special wedding for me for TWO reasons predominantly.
First of all, this would allow me to witness the most important ceremony in my precious friend's life, whom I've known ever since I began to crawl. Those were the days when she'd bite me and I'd cry.(Or was it the other way round, I don't remember).

Secondly, this was my first ever North-Indian wedding.

'The Raos and The Rathis welcome you' , read the big hoarding at the entrance. A confederation of two communities. Thats just euphemism for 'A Love Marriage'.
(I need not mention who one of these names reminds me of )

Much against all speculation, my mom gave me her usual mommy-ka-funda's on how girls nowadays, have the audocity to stand up to their parents and demand what they want(or what they think they want).
Culture this....tradition that...preceeded by the usual 'When I was a girl...' story.
I think my mom covered everything, a normal history book would cover, within those 35 minutes we travelled to the Mandap.
Moms, I tell you, have the innate ability to talk forever, regardless of you paying heed or not. (But I Still love you ma!)

We reached the mandap an hour earlier because the bride was afterall 'our' girl, and we wanted to help around the place, if not just perform the trite(usual) come-smile-eat-smile-leave routine. I found a lot of my friend's parents there, whom I hadn't seen in some gazillion years. All of the mommies gleaming in pride because all of their daughters were married off in great splendour.
What is their hurry I secretly exclaim, but who listens to me!

While I was in my own dream world, (Sahil would know what I mean ), gaping at the grandeur and the melange of colours with which the mandap had been decorated, there suddenly was an army of women cascading themselves to ME shooting out all sorts of questions,which drove me crazy,like ...
'Ah Maythini, when're you going to get married' and ' Maythini darling, your's should be the next wedding'...blah, blah blah blah blah!

I gave them one of those 'Will-your-highnesses-please-mind-their-own-businesses' look, topped with a vibrant smile just to cover my distinct exasperation, while my mom gave me a desperate look, signalling me to be polite with these aunties.
What is it with women and weddings, I ask while I shake my head in defeat.

Suddenly there's this loud drumming noise which startled the entire crowd. Really loud. And everybody goes rushing to the entryway. I go there a few minutes later to see what the crowd's flocked over there for, and I see the groom arriving on a horse. A horse!! was soooooo adorable. Really!!! Reminded me of the scene from Kuch kuch hota hai, when Salman does an entry on a donkey. :)

My excitement (considering that this was my first non-southie wedding) was clearly visible in that crowd while I was watching the 'scene' intently. Some of the ghar-ka women even let me take the front row seat in watching the celebration. Watching all the girls and women dance there, brought out an insatiable urge in me to go out there and join them in that circle, but my shy-demeanour got the better of me. (As if I'd go there and dance anyway).:)

The second phase of drumming, a few minutes later, was for the bride. She arrived in the traditional Marwadi red attire surrounded by people holding up a carpet of garlands.
God.. She looked stunningly beautiful. I'd never seen my friend is such a graceful and bewitching form before.

Man, girls grow fast!

Finally after doing a mini-chit-chat session at the mandap with the bride and the groom, I descended the alter to watch the bride walk around the whatever-you-call-it 7 times with my jiju.

This ceremony, was then succeeded by the traditional southie-styled ceremony to honour the girl's side. The contrast in these two nuptual(wedding) ceremonies was ever so striking that it set me thinking on another plane; On how varied and beautiful our country's cultures areand perhaps how EVERY girl (and fine, every boy) could have both kinds of ceremonies in their wedding. Gives the wedding a wholesome feel. As ridiculous as it may sound, it certainly looked like a whole lot of fun there. (I'll write on this, sometime during this lifetime)

My friend was getting married to the bloke she loved...something I wouldn't dare do even if you held a gun down my throat....Cheers Aruna!

So..what is my point to all this blah-blah afterall???

'Love' is a feeling, that doesn't smack you at your face when you want it to. Different people find love at different phases of their lives.
But when you think your even 'close' to falling in love, no matter how long you'veknown him/her, no matter how he/she would react... Express it explicitly...Just go for it.

Go for it like, you'd go for a chocolate brownie behind a glass panel...just plunge and indulge without second thoughts.
Trust me, you'd rather vent the feeling out of your *system* and face defeat , than live your entire life wondering what would have happened if you'd just tried.

I dedicate this mail and my arduous hours of pondering over what to write, to..

Deepak Nagar whose just got married....
Aruna (Rao) Rathi, who's unknowingly, the sole inspiration behind this mail...
Those of you in love
Those of you being loved...

Celebrate Love... the most genuine and un-pretentious fashion.

Happy Valentines Day!!