Thanks to a too-caught-up-in-work-to-go friend of mine I was fortunate to get my hands on the tickets for the final one dayer between India and Australia. Thanks Nrupal.
My friends and colleagues were not too happy about it. Well, they had their reasons for it. The reason being my honest admission that up until then I had never witnessed a match which was won by the team I supported. Be it the Ranji Trophy match between Haryana and Karnataka ( I was supporting Haryana; reason: Jadeja) or the ICC championship final between Australia and New Zealand ( No prizes for guessing which team I supported) or the test match between India and England ( India lost in three days. I went on day 3). The official conclusion: I am jinxed.
Well, I am a little superstitious when it comes to cricket. But, jinxed? I certainly was not. For two days prior to the match this became the lunch-time hot topic: colleagues threatening me with dire consequences if I were to go and direr if India was to lose. And I took up the challenge. “The jinx shall be broken” became my slogan. I don’t remember the number of times I had to use it. I was just short of printing it on my shirt….or forehead.
D-day.
I was trying to come up with excuses to leave early from work. But I couldn’t do better than a headache and a stomachache. These would never have worked. My excitement was far too obvious to hide behind such outdated excuses. But there was god news in store. My boss had a client-side meeting in the afternoon. Small mercies!! All I had to do was inform his secretary that I was leaving.
There were many tiny little incidents before, during and after the match that deserve a mention. I will save them for a later post. I will concentrate on the match now.
Australia won the toss and decided to bat first. Thanks to our late-bloomer Murali Karthik (he took 6), Australia was restricted to a not-so-challenging score of 193. Just when I thought we were having a good start Sachin got out. I will not dwell on it. You know the feeling (At least, he treated me with a Straight Drive before leaving). Roughly 5% of the crowd left. We started loosing wickets at regular intervals. After every wicket a portion of the crowd left. I have never understood how one can do that. I and a friend, who joined me for the second innings, simply sat there and numbly stared down the pitch. Leaving was not even an option. We are too romanticized with cricket to leave, to lose faith. But, the inevitable was staring right at our face. We wanted to enjoy it as long as it lasted. For almost half an hour we went through motions: clapping for singles and screaming till our throats ached for those rare boundaries.
The required runs kept decreasing from 80 to 70 to 60. Once it crossed 50 we started hoping again. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, to hope. I was getting comfortable in the no-pressure expectation of a loss, and suddenly these two guys in blue (Zaheer and Karthik) were teasing me with an agonizing ray of hope. Lord! I can’t go through this again! Well, I did hold on to that ray of hope and started my silent mantra which goes something like “comm’on, comm’on,……”. It’s amazing how lonely one can feel looking down at that pitch, praying for an Indian win, even though the twenty thousand people around you are cheering for exactly the same thing. It comes down to you and the guys on the field…..and of course, the scoreboard.
50…40….30….20…10….1…..We Won!!!! Clap! Clap!...Sweaty hand clapping. The jinx is broken……
And for those who left mid-way: Faith, my friends, Faith.
When is the next match in Bombay? ;)
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Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Pundits from Pakistan
Author: Rahul Bhattacharya
Publisher: Replika Press
Number of pages: 344
Suggested by: Nrupal
Where did I find it: Borrowed from Nrupal
Read when: September ‘07
The book:
This is a must read for all cricket fans and a definite read for non-cricket fans to realize what they are missing. It’s all about cricket. It’s not only about cricket. The book is an account of the 03-04 India tour of Pakistan.
The book starts with a debate that has been going on since the Romans! “Why do people like sports?” I found myself thinking ‘What have I gotten into?!” But the author, thankfully, doesn’t stretch it beyond tolerance and quickly gets in to the matter on hand: India and Pakistan.
He sketches an appreciable background, needless to say, involving politics, religion, The Bus and The War. A perfect platform for what was to come. And as he progresses, his narrative of the Pakistani cities, their history, the people and their hospitality is indeed fascinating.
And then begins the enthralling match by match, innings by innings, session by session web of runs, wickets, centuries and controversies. It’s a superbly compiled account of the one dayers, the test matches, and the rest days. Its unbelievable how unbiased he remains throughout the book. You know what? I can go on and on about how well its written and how engrossing it is. But I am gonna stop it now and just ask you to READ IT!!..
The most captivating thing about the book is the language. The author has an amazing way with the queen’s language. It’s not about the big obscure words; it’s about the way simple words are used to create a fantastic narration. Its music when he is describing a player and its melody when he is describing a city. There were many instances when I read and re-read a sentence or a paragraph because it was just so gorgeously written.
Recommendation: The book is refreshing for two reasons. One, as I already mentioned, it’s a rare unbiased account of an India-Pakistan series. Two, seldom do you find a sports (especially cricket) journalist who reports so matter of factually without forcing through a piece of his own mind. As I said before READ IT!!
---
Publisher: Replika Press
Number of pages: 344
Suggested by: Nrupal
Where did I find it: Borrowed from Nrupal
Read when: September ‘07
The book:
This is a must read for all cricket fans and a definite read for non-cricket fans to realize what they are missing. It’s all about cricket. It’s not only about cricket. The book is an account of the 03-04 India tour of Pakistan.
The book starts with a debate that has been going on since the Romans! “Why do people like sports?” I found myself thinking ‘What have I gotten into?!” But the author, thankfully, doesn’t stretch it beyond tolerance and quickly gets in to the matter on hand: India and Pakistan.
He sketches an appreciable background, needless to say, involving politics, religion, The Bus and The War. A perfect platform for what was to come. And as he progresses, his narrative of the Pakistani cities, their history, the people and their hospitality is indeed fascinating.
And then begins the enthralling match by match, innings by innings, session by session web of runs, wickets, centuries and controversies. It’s a superbly compiled account of the one dayers, the test matches, and the rest days. Its unbelievable how unbiased he remains throughout the book. You know what? I can go on and on about how well its written and how engrossing it is. But I am gonna stop it now and just ask you to READ IT!!..
The most captivating thing about the book is the language. The author has an amazing way with the queen’s language. It’s not about the big obscure words; it’s about the way simple words are used to create a fantastic narration. Its music when he is describing a player and its melody when he is describing a city. There were many instances when I read and re-read a sentence or a paragraph because it was just so gorgeously written.
Recommendation: The book is refreshing for two reasons. One, as I already mentioned, it’s a rare unbiased account of an India-Pakistan series. Two, seldom do you find a sports (especially cricket) journalist who reports so matter of factually without forcing through a piece of his own mind. As I said before READ IT!!
---
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Into Thin Air
Author: Jon Krakauer
Publisher: Anchor Books
Number of pages: 333
Suggested by: Mrs. Amanullah (Rahmat’s mom)
Where did I find it: Placed an order with Crossword
Read when: September-October ‘07
The book:
It’s a breathtaking narrative of the ill-fated 1996 guided expedition to The Everest. It’s a survivor’s account of what really happened at the top of the world on that fateful summer day. It’s a story of bad luck, worse judgment and heartbreaking heroism.
He sets the tone by introducing the ‘industry’ of guided expeditions (that many believe is profane to the extent of threatening the sanctity of the world’s highest peak), the lives and achievements of renowned alpinists (some of few were there with him that summer), the competition between them, the beliefs, rituals and superstitions of the Sherpas, the roles and responsibilities of everyone on the team, and not to forget……The Mountain.
He follows this with life at the lower altitude (comparatively speaking) of base camp, the long and tedious process of preparing and planning for life at higher altitude. What ever the altitude, one thing remains constant – cold. He has done a fantastic job of bringing it down from the summit and pushing it through the reader’s veins.
As he moves higher (literally speaking) he digs deeper into serious controversies of the modern day guided expeditions. This means politics, fame, money, the written laws and the unwritten rules, and not to forget the very wisdom of challenging the mountain. At the end of it one is led to accept, the adrenaline at higher altitude notwithstanding, that sea-level is the best place to be…. Or is it?
And then comes the fateful day. May 10th 1996, the day of the summit push. The author achingly describes everything that went wrong that day- the plan, the weather, the inhuman conditions. It’s an epic of human strength, his will, his madness in the face of disaster. As a reader you question the actions and judgments, or the lack of both, of everyone on the mountain that day- the leaders, the guides, the sherpas, the clients and……and God.
It is true that the line between what is right and what is wrong is all but completely erased at such altitudes. It’s erased not because these climbers become so fanatic in their quest to reach the summit, but because at such altitudes given the conditions, the human mind and soul is rendered so numb that there is no realization of self. There is only the realization that there can be circumstances that are so beyond human control that its futile under those circumstances to search for definitions of wisdom, judgment, morality………of humanity.
Controversies erupted after this book got published. There were articles and even books written solely with the purpose of challenging the accuracy of the incident as accounted in the book. The one worth mentioning is “The Climb”, co authored by Anatoli Bourkreev,one of the guides on that expedition, and an American writer named G. Weston DeWalt. The fight flared up to such a degree that the Jon was forced to include a 30 page postscript to later editions of his book defending himself.
A plethora of questions raise from the book, but for his part, the author has done commendable research before writing it. Even though he was in the middle of the disaster, he has done well to gather as much information from as many people possible. The result – heart-wrenching stories of quest, of hope, of despair, of guilt, of undoubted heroism, of questionable judgment, of constrained selfishness, of unbelievable selflessness………..of miracles.
Recommendation: Read it. Period.
---
Publisher: Anchor Books
Number of pages: 333
Suggested by: Mrs. Amanullah (Rahmat’s mom)
Where did I find it: Placed an order with Crossword
Read when: September-October ‘07
The book:
It’s a breathtaking narrative of the ill-fated 1996 guided expedition to The Everest. It’s a survivor’s account of what really happened at the top of the world on that fateful summer day. It’s a story of bad luck, worse judgment and heartbreaking heroism.
He sets the tone by introducing the ‘industry’ of guided expeditions (that many believe is profane to the extent of threatening the sanctity of the world’s highest peak), the lives and achievements of renowned alpinists (some of few were there with him that summer), the competition between them, the beliefs, rituals and superstitions of the Sherpas, the roles and responsibilities of everyone on the team, and not to forget……The Mountain.
He follows this with life at the lower altitude (comparatively speaking) of base camp, the long and tedious process of preparing and planning for life at higher altitude. What ever the altitude, one thing remains constant – cold. He has done a fantastic job of bringing it down from the summit and pushing it through the reader’s veins.
As he moves higher (literally speaking) he digs deeper into serious controversies of the modern day guided expeditions. This means politics, fame, money, the written laws and the unwritten rules, and not to forget the very wisdom of challenging the mountain. At the end of it one is led to accept, the adrenaline at higher altitude notwithstanding, that sea-level is the best place to be…. Or is it?
And then comes the fateful day. May 10th 1996, the day of the summit push. The author achingly describes everything that went wrong that day- the plan, the weather, the inhuman conditions. It’s an epic of human strength, his will, his madness in the face of disaster. As a reader you question the actions and judgments, or the lack of both, of everyone on the mountain that day- the leaders, the guides, the sherpas, the clients and……and God.
It is true that the line between what is right and what is wrong is all but completely erased at such altitudes. It’s erased not because these climbers become so fanatic in their quest to reach the summit, but because at such altitudes given the conditions, the human mind and soul is rendered so numb that there is no realization of self. There is only the realization that there can be circumstances that are so beyond human control that its futile under those circumstances to search for definitions of wisdom, judgment, morality………of humanity.
Controversies erupted after this book got published. There were articles and even books written solely with the purpose of challenging the accuracy of the incident as accounted in the book. The one worth mentioning is “The Climb”, co authored by Anatoli Bourkreev,one of the guides on that expedition, and an American writer named G. Weston DeWalt. The fight flared up to such a degree that the Jon was forced to include a 30 page postscript to later editions of his book defending himself.
A plethora of questions raise from the book, but for his part, the author has done commendable research before writing it. Even though he was in the middle of the disaster, he has done well to gather as much information from as many people possible. The result – heart-wrenching stories of quest, of hope, of despair, of guilt, of undoubted heroism, of questionable judgment, of constrained selfishness, of unbelievable selflessness………..of miracles.
Recommendation: Read it. Period.
---
Thursday, September 13, 2007
The Minnows versus The Whales
The 20-20 World Series has opened to a good reception. This post is not to give my opinion of the newest format of the game or to discuss its supposed impact on the other formats. I am writing this.....Because last night I saw Zimbabwe beat Australia in their opening match! I was exhilarated, to say the least, to see the underdogs (some call them minnows) defeat the world champions.
I have two reasons for my exhilaration.
Reason 1: Zimbabwe won!
Not many would have expected them to, forget win, put up a fight against the great Australian might. And put up a fight, they did, the odds notwithstanding. The team….. I mean, have you seen their line up?!..... The social and political instability in the country has wrecked the team. Neither did they have a good run up to the series, having lost a series to Bangladesh in Feb, an unmemorable performance in the world cup in March and again a clean sweep loss to South Africa in August………. It was heartwarming to see them go all out to put up an inspired performance. Anyone who follows the game in its true spirit would be elated.
Reason 2: Australia lost!
I don’t particularly have anything against the Australian team except their “We-are-the-world-champions-and-there-isn’t-a-damn-thing-you-can-do-about-it” attitude that they carry right to the middle of the pitch. Well, I guess they have good reasons to carry it. They are bloody good at what they do. What I have against them is what I had against Sampras, against Schumacher, against Federer (at least till Nadal came along),….collectively put….against monopoly. (we are not talking economics……..only sports).
I agree with those who say “what is wrong if they win all their matches? It is not their problem that no one else is good enough to challenge them.” My real issue with monopolistic dominance is its inherent perils of making the game look too easy and of making the player look bigger than the game. For me, it’s dreadfully profane. (I am tempted to go on, but I think I have got the point through.)
And not to forget the predictability; It just gets simply boring!!.....to watch a match when you are painfully conscious of its agonizingly predictable result. What is a game if the word ‘competitive’ doesn't feature in the commentary and I still have to cut my nails after the match?
Highlights of the match:
Zimbabwean fielding,…….. three early wickets in both innings,………. Taylor’s (Zim wicket keeper) brilliant batting, ………some expected Australian hard hitting,……… Taibu bowling medium pacers!,…………. the nail-biting finish with one ball to spare, ………..and the Zimbabwean victory lap.
Watching the match was a deserving finish to a tiring day:)
---
I have two reasons for my exhilaration.
Reason 1: Zimbabwe won!
Not many would have expected them to, forget win, put up a fight against the great Australian might. And put up a fight, they did, the odds notwithstanding. The team….. I mean, have you seen their line up?!..... The social and political instability in the country has wrecked the team. Neither did they have a good run up to the series, having lost a series to Bangladesh in Feb, an unmemorable performance in the world cup in March and again a clean sweep loss to South Africa in August………. It was heartwarming to see them go all out to put up an inspired performance. Anyone who follows the game in its true spirit would be elated.
Reason 2: Australia lost!
I don’t particularly have anything against the Australian team except their “We-are-the-world-champions-and-there-isn’t-a-damn-thing-you-can-do-about-it” attitude that they carry right to the middle of the pitch. Well, I guess they have good reasons to carry it. They are bloody good at what they do. What I have against them is what I had against Sampras, against Schumacher, against Federer (at least till Nadal came along),….collectively put….against monopoly. (we are not talking economics……..only sports).
I agree with those who say “what is wrong if they win all their matches? It is not their problem that no one else is good enough to challenge them.” My real issue with monopolistic dominance is its inherent perils of making the game look too easy and of making the player look bigger than the game. For me, it’s dreadfully profane. (I am tempted to go on, but I think I have got the point through.)
And not to forget the predictability; It just gets simply boring!!.....to watch a match when you are painfully conscious of its agonizingly predictable result. What is a game if the word ‘competitive’ doesn't feature in the commentary and I still have to cut my nails after the match?
Highlights of the match:
Zimbabwean fielding,…….. three early wickets in both innings,………. Taylor’s (Zim wicket keeper) brilliant batting, ………some expected Australian hard hitting,……… Taibu bowling medium pacers!,…………. the nail-biting finish with one ball to spare, ………..and the Zimbabwean victory lap.
Watching the match was a deserving finish to a tiring day:)
---
Monday, September 10, 2007
Despatches from Kargil
Author: Srinjoy Chowdhury
Publisher: Penguin Books
Number of pages: 227
Suggested by: Nrupal
Where did I find it: Borrowed from Nrupal
Read when: August-September ‘07
The book:
The book is a first person account of a journalist’s experience in Kargil-Drass during the war.
The chapters take you through one town at a time along the highway describing the war in respectable detail; the geography and the tactics, the ammunition and the weapons, the enemy attack and the Indian revenge, life on the cold mountains and the mood in the base camp, the damage and the victories, the sorrow (read: guilt) of losing a friend and the celebrations of capturing a peak.
He manages to get inside a soldier’s mind and capture what he felt during the initial phases of the war when enemy splinters were falling all around him, and what he felt when it was his turn to fire. He also, quiet commendably, captures what everyone in the war-zone felt about the war; the soldiers, the lieutenants and the majors, the high rank officers, the villagers and of course, fellow journalists. And how can you forget the ones from New Delhi making obligatory visits?
The Indian Navy and The Indian Air Force would sure give the author a thumbs-up for not forgetting its contribution during the war.
But, in trying to capture so many things in so few pages, he keeps going back and forth and you end up losing the chronology of the war. If you ask me to describe the war in the order in which the peaks were reclaimed, I would lose it after the first three. Then again, what he loses in maintaining the flow he makes up by brilliantly capturing the moments of glory: moments of fanatic gallantry, of absolutely illogical valor. His narrative of our army’s show of courage under fire, of heroism driven by passion, is hair-raisingly poignant. This, in itself, makes the book worth a read.
The author, appreciatively, does not limit himself to explaining the heroics. He reveals the negligence and intelligence failure before the war and the bureaucracy and the politics during and after the war. He does this astutely, without being judgmental, and allows the readers to come to their own conclusions.
The best pages of the book are the last few: A beautiful post-war account. The hugs, the exhilaration, the home coming, the celebrations and, the tears, the field hospital, the memorial service, the nightmares. And between all this the struggle to find and remove the landmines on reclaimed territory planted by the departing enemy.
Recommendation: It’s a good read; gives good insights in to the war. But, probably will not satiate your quest to know everything there is to know about the war and you find yourself looking for another book that will. Will try and get my hands on ‘From Surprise to Victory’ by Gen VP Malik. Heard good reviews…
---
Publisher: Penguin Books
Number of pages: 227
Suggested by: Nrupal
Where did I find it: Borrowed from Nrupal
Read when: August-September ‘07
The book:
The book is a first person account of a journalist’s experience in Kargil-Drass during the war.
The chapters take you through one town at a time along the highway describing the war in respectable detail; the geography and the tactics, the ammunition and the weapons, the enemy attack and the Indian revenge, life on the cold mountains and the mood in the base camp, the damage and the victories, the sorrow (read: guilt) of losing a friend and the celebrations of capturing a peak.
He manages to get inside a soldier’s mind and capture what he felt during the initial phases of the war when enemy splinters were falling all around him, and what he felt when it was his turn to fire. He also, quiet commendably, captures what everyone in the war-zone felt about the war; the soldiers, the lieutenants and the majors, the high rank officers, the villagers and of course, fellow journalists. And how can you forget the ones from New Delhi making obligatory visits?
The Indian Navy and The Indian Air Force would sure give the author a thumbs-up for not forgetting its contribution during the war.
But, in trying to capture so many things in so few pages, he keeps going back and forth and you end up losing the chronology of the war. If you ask me to describe the war in the order in which the peaks were reclaimed, I would lose it after the first three. Then again, what he loses in maintaining the flow he makes up by brilliantly capturing the moments of glory: moments of fanatic gallantry, of absolutely illogical valor. His narrative of our army’s show of courage under fire, of heroism driven by passion, is hair-raisingly poignant. This, in itself, makes the book worth a read.
The author, appreciatively, does not limit himself to explaining the heroics. He reveals the negligence and intelligence failure before the war and the bureaucracy and the politics during and after the war. He does this astutely, without being judgmental, and allows the readers to come to their own conclusions.
The best pages of the book are the last few: A beautiful post-war account. The hugs, the exhilaration, the home coming, the celebrations and, the tears, the field hospital, the memorial service, the nightmares. And between all this the struggle to find and remove the landmines on reclaimed territory planted by the departing enemy.
Recommendation: It’s a good read; gives good insights in to the war. But, probably will not satiate your quest to know everything there is to know about the war and you find yourself looking for another book that will. Will try and get my hands on ‘From Surprise to Victory’ by Gen VP Malik. Heard good reviews…
---
Monday, August 27, 2007
Books...The background
Never considered myself a good reviewer, nevertheless, have decided to put down my opinion of the books I read.
As a child, I read a plethora of books, the likes of Champak, Gokulam, the entire series of Diamond comics, Panchtantra, Wisdom, Tinkle….also had subscribed to a Japanese fortnightly called Oshin! Somehow never got to read The Hardy Boys, Sherlock Holmes and the likes. The books kept pouring in and my mother ran out of places to keep them and we (my brother and I) never allowed her to sell them. We were a huge hit with the other kids. On any given Sunday our house used to swarm with them. It used to be quite a sight: A dozen or more kids, each with a book or two, occupying every possible corner in the house, that done, on the terrace; dad acting as the official librarian and mom making Rooh Afza for everyone.
I don’t know why, but as we grew up these books stopped coming. The Champak and the Gokulam were replaced by The Week and Outlook. I don’t remember complaining; probably I thought it was the sign of growing up; shifting from “The ghost who walks never dies” to “The week that was”. But, very soon I realized I was pulling out the old books from the dust filled attic. And then I got over them....well, only almost.
I think mom got the idea from somewhere that any book that does not have “for children” written on the cover page is not suitable for children. Guess, she thought every such book is a “Its-a-course-in-sex-education-but-is-brilliantly-named-Mills & Boons”. Then I met Beena. She is a Mills & Boons maniac. She gave me a couple of her favorite M&Bs, she claimed there is no way I will not like them. Well, I did not like them. But it did tickle the sleeping voracious reader in me. Read a couple of Beena-reccommended Judith McNaught’s romances and if I may dare say graduated to the likes of Sidney Sheldon, Robert Ludlum and John Grisham and the likes... A year later, it was graduation time again. I found myself more and more detached from fiction and getting hooked to non-fiction. Guess, this happens when you become more worldly.:) Now, in a conventional sense, I am a non-fiction reader; I do pick up a light literature once in a while for filler.
So here I am, all set to write my opinion of the books I read. Will try and cover what I have already read. Will look forward to your suggestions.
Watch this space…
Coming up “Despatches from Kargil”
---
As a child, I read a plethora of books, the likes of Champak, Gokulam, the entire series of Diamond comics, Panchtantra, Wisdom, Tinkle….also had subscribed to a Japanese fortnightly called Oshin! Somehow never got to read The Hardy Boys, Sherlock Holmes and the likes. The books kept pouring in and my mother ran out of places to keep them and we (my brother and I) never allowed her to sell them. We were a huge hit with the other kids. On any given Sunday our house used to swarm with them. It used to be quite a sight: A dozen or more kids, each with a book or two, occupying every possible corner in the house, that done, on the terrace; dad acting as the official librarian and mom making Rooh Afza for everyone.
I don’t know why, but as we grew up these books stopped coming. The Champak and the Gokulam were replaced by The Week and Outlook. I don’t remember complaining; probably I thought it was the sign of growing up; shifting from “The ghost who walks never dies” to “The week that was”. But, very soon I realized I was pulling out the old books from the dust filled attic. And then I got over them....well, only almost.
I think mom got the idea from somewhere that any book that does not have “for children” written on the cover page is not suitable for children. Guess, she thought every such book is a “Its-a-course-in-sex-education-but-is-brilliantly-named-Mills & Boons”. Then I met Beena. She is a Mills & Boons maniac. She gave me a couple of her favorite M&Bs, she claimed there is no way I will not like them. Well, I did not like them. But it did tickle the sleeping voracious reader in me. Read a couple of Beena-reccommended Judith McNaught’s romances and if I may dare say graduated to the likes of Sidney Sheldon, Robert Ludlum and John Grisham and the likes... A year later, it was graduation time again. I found myself more and more detached from fiction and getting hooked to non-fiction. Guess, this happens when you become more worldly.:) Now, in a conventional sense, I am a non-fiction reader; I do pick up a light literature once in a while for filler.
So here I am, all set to write my opinion of the books I read. Will try and cover what I have already read. Will look forward to your suggestions.
Watch this space…
Coming up “Despatches from Kargil”
---
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Marine Drive to Santacruz
The monsoons are back!....Hail! the Lord....and what a timing…..right before a weekend. It doesn’t get better than this in Bombay.
Dewang, Nama, Rahul, Pooja, Roshan and I went to catch the last show at Sterling (V.T) this Saturday(28th July). We are not going to talk about the movie. Period. It’s enough to know that we walked out during the interval and considered ourselves blessed for having the wisdom to do so. Once outside, like all good Bombay-ites, went to the nearest CCD. (0000hrs). After spending an hour there; which was spent short-listing candidates for my planned near-future elopement, we pulled out the bikes only to find Roshan’s grand bullet with water in her belly!!....... Took us another 10 mins to heat her (Roshan, you can’t blame me for gender-discrimination) up n get her started. Again we put on the True Bombay-ite mantle and decided to spend some time on Marine Drive…..(0100hrs)
Just as were reaching the almost-deserted Marine Drive,(0115hrs) the rain God woke up from his prized slumber and decided to bless us. The six of us huddled together; four of us under a single umbrella and Rahul and Pooja in their Undertaker rain coats. Not that we really wanted to stay dry, it was just more fun combating for space under the umbrella and getting wet at the same time. These are the moments when you thank the Lord again and again; for the rains and the sea, for the friends and the city.
After about forty five minutes of gratifying banter reality dawned and wisdom prevailed.(0205hrs) We realized that if we wanted to reach home without actually having to swim our way, we should head home immediately. We said bye to Dewang and Nama and pulled out the bikes. And off we went into the dark impishly inviting night. What followed will remain in my memory for a long time. Not that I have never ridden in rain or have not lived the Bombay Monsoon life, but this particular experience was unlike any other. My being prompted to write about it is proof enough.
We rode along Marine drive, up Peddar road, along Haji Ali, Shivaji Park, Bandra Reclamation, Western Express n finally Santacruz. All along we were washed down by the glory of the rains. The visibility was limited to 2 feet. It did take a breather a couple of times only to come down ever more forcefully. It was so strong, our skin hurt, and we looked up to the sky, opened our arms and welcomed the pain. We could barely open our eyes. It wasn’t the clichéd riding-in-the-rain; it was riding through a water blanket. It was like riding under a huge waterfall spread over kilometers. The road was disappearing under the tyres. We knew it could get worse, but the sheer joy of living the almost-revered moments far replaced the fear of finding a pot hole. As I read this paragraph I don’t think the words do justice to what we experienced. So I am gonna leave describing the rain at that, close my eyes and relive that ride. It’s one of those that have to be experienced to be understood.
The ride, other than giving the joy of the rain, presented to us the different facets of the city that I have come to love so much…..
If you have been on Marine Drive-Shivaji Park stretch after 12, you will understand what I mean. If you are on a bike and are riding on that road, for the life of yours don’t try your stunts even if you have a beautiful girl (read: me) sitting behind. Every few seconds you will find fast cars and very fast cars ripping past you. And somehow the rains add another ‘very’ to them. You can see all the latest models and the old models done up a la’ DC going (read: flying) pass you. Thankfully Roshan and Rahul were sane (for once) enough to keep to the left and let the four-wheeled ones have their way. Reminded me of Star Wars
We were fortunate to be at the Peddar road-Mahalaxmi crossroad during one of those hiatuses when another beautiful picture of Bombay presented itself;(0220hrs) the roadside cycle coffee-wala!!!.... Bliss!.... Don’t know if any other city can offer this treat at 2 in the morning. It was a perfect moment: The drizzle gently falling on already-dripping us, the cold and beautiful night, the wide empty (almost) crossroad lighted by high bright street lamps, the wind blowing in from the sea beyond the tall beautiful apartment buildings of the rich, the ever smiling coffee-wala n us, the four crazy wet shivering friends. We had coffee while chatting with the coffee-wala about his business model and his target customer. My friends also concluded that it will be a good idea for me to elope with him…. Well, its definitely a romantic idea, if not feasible, my coffee-wala and I, the two of us on his cycle riding through Bombay on a wet cold night singing Payar hua, Ikrar hua……… with the coffee can tinkling providing the background music….(sigh!)
Along the way, every now and then we saw young and not so young boys by the road side playing in the rain. Some were playing football, and some were more delightfully artless, just running against the direction of the rain, arms wide open and eyes shut, screaming beautiful incoherent lexis. Its amazing how this city has come to perkily embrace everything that The Creator has to offer.
As we approached the last stretch; the western express, (0235rs) all hell (read: Heaven) broke loose. We had never seen anything like that. Zero visibility, rain falling like a thousand pins and I found myself futilely wishing the roads stretched a little longer.
Am sure we are gonna talk about this night for a very long time….here’s to many more such nights…….. Cheers!
---
Dewang, Nama, Rahul, Pooja, Roshan and I went to catch the last show at Sterling (V.T) this Saturday(28th July). We are not going to talk about the movie. Period. It’s enough to know that we walked out during the interval and considered ourselves blessed for having the wisdom to do so. Once outside, like all good Bombay-ites, went to the nearest CCD. (0000hrs). After spending an hour there; which was spent short-listing candidates for my planned near-future elopement, we pulled out the bikes only to find Roshan’s grand bullet with water in her belly!!....... Took us another 10 mins to heat her (Roshan, you can’t blame me for gender-discrimination) up n get her started. Again we put on the True Bombay-ite mantle and decided to spend some time on Marine Drive…..(0100hrs)
Just as were reaching the almost-deserted Marine Drive,(0115hrs) the rain God woke up from his prized slumber and decided to bless us. The six of us huddled together; four of us under a single umbrella and Rahul and Pooja in their Undertaker rain coats. Not that we really wanted to stay dry, it was just more fun combating for space under the umbrella and getting wet at the same time. These are the moments when you thank the Lord again and again; for the rains and the sea, for the friends and the city.
After about forty five minutes of gratifying banter reality dawned and wisdom prevailed.(0205hrs) We realized that if we wanted to reach home without actually having to swim our way, we should head home immediately. We said bye to Dewang and Nama and pulled out the bikes. And off we went into the dark impishly inviting night. What followed will remain in my memory for a long time. Not that I have never ridden in rain or have not lived the Bombay Monsoon life, but this particular experience was unlike any other. My being prompted to write about it is proof enough.
We rode along Marine drive, up Peddar road, along Haji Ali, Shivaji Park, Bandra Reclamation, Western Express n finally Santacruz. All along we were washed down by the glory of the rains. The visibility was limited to 2 feet. It did take a breather a couple of times only to come down ever more forcefully. It was so strong, our skin hurt, and we looked up to the sky, opened our arms and welcomed the pain. We could barely open our eyes. It wasn’t the clichéd riding-in-the-rain; it was riding through a water blanket. It was like riding under a huge waterfall spread over kilometers. The road was disappearing under the tyres. We knew it could get worse, but the sheer joy of living the almost-revered moments far replaced the fear of finding a pot hole. As I read this paragraph I don’t think the words do justice to what we experienced. So I am gonna leave describing the rain at that, close my eyes and relive that ride. It’s one of those that have to be experienced to be understood.
The ride, other than giving the joy of the rain, presented to us the different facets of the city that I have come to love so much…..
If you have been on Marine Drive-Shivaji Park stretch after 12, you will understand what I mean. If you are on a bike and are riding on that road, for the life of yours don’t try your stunts even if you have a beautiful girl (read: me) sitting behind. Every few seconds you will find fast cars and very fast cars ripping past you. And somehow the rains add another ‘very’ to them. You can see all the latest models and the old models done up a la’ DC going (read: flying) pass you. Thankfully Roshan and Rahul were sane (for once) enough to keep to the left and let the four-wheeled ones have their way. Reminded me of Star Wars
We were fortunate to be at the Peddar road-Mahalaxmi crossroad during one of those hiatuses when another beautiful picture of Bombay presented itself;(0220hrs) the roadside cycle coffee-wala!!!.... Bliss!.... Don’t know if any other city can offer this treat at 2 in the morning. It was a perfect moment: The drizzle gently falling on already-dripping us, the cold and beautiful night, the wide empty (almost) crossroad lighted by high bright street lamps, the wind blowing in from the sea beyond the tall beautiful apartment buildings of the rich, the ever smiling coffee-wala n us, the four crazy wet shivering friends. We had coffee while chatting with the coffee-wala about his business model and his target customer. My friends also concluded that it will be a good idea for me to elope with him…. Well, its definitely a romantic idea, if not feasible, my coffee-wala and I, the two of us on his cycle riding through Bombay on a wet cold night singing Payar hua, Ikrar hua……… with the coffee can tinkling providing the background music….(sigh!)
Along the way, every now and then we saw young and not so young boys by the road side playing in the rain. Some were playing football, and some were more delightfully artless, just running against the direction of the rain, arms wide open and eyes shut, screaming beautiful incoherent lexis. Its amazing how this city has come to perkily embrace everything that The Creator has to offer.
As we approached the last stretch; the western express, (0235rs) all hell (read: Heaven) broke loose. We had never seen anything like that. Zero visibility, rain falling like a thousand pins and I found myself futilely wishing the roads stretched a little longer.
Am sure we are gonna talk about this night for a very long time….here’s to many more such nights…….. Cheers!
---
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Roomies
Been some time since the last post.... not making any excuses,...... am guilty.....:)
A few weeks back Rediff.com invited write ups about experiences of living with roommates,..... i was in my "transition"....(Read "Transition Syndrome") n hence had enough time to write about my experience. n guess what?..... they published it,... today. I m just reproducing the same here.... am sure you have lots to share.....
Quote
We asked readers to share their stories about living with roommates. Here, Janaki D, a 26-year-old Mumbai-based Mahindra & Mahindra employee, tells of her roomie experiences:
I moved to Bombay (I prefer to refer to the city by her earlier name) three years ago and have been living with roommates ever since. For the first two years, I had the same four roomies all through, then in the third year I was sharing company quarters with a colleague and recently, since only a couple of weeks now, with the friend-of-a-friend. And not once have I ever regretted living with any of them.
That is not to say it was rosy between us all the time. There are always compromises and adjustments to be made -- some amicably and some with closed fists and gritted teeth.
My first two years in Bombay were great. All four of us were away from home for the first time, and made the most of it. It was a lot of fun setting up a new house together. We got to know each other and had good times -- pillow fights, water fights and some real fights. I remember one time our flush broke and the house was flooded. After desperately trying to track a plumber, once the initial hysteria had died down, we started making boats and drenching each other. The four of us cuddled up together to sleep on a single bed that night, only to find that the house had flooded again the next morning!
We looked after each other and tended to whoever took ill; at the same time, we learned to give each other space when required. Even though we had different friend-circles in college we made sure to spend time with each other. We had dinner together regularly (at least during the first year), we rented DVDs and watched late night movies and porn together, we had innumerable all-night gossip sessions and late night coffee sessions.
During my third year in Mumbai I moved in with a colleague from work -- my company allotted us accomodation and the two of us were assigned roomies. This was a completely different experience altogether from my first two years. My new roommate was a great girl but we had absolutely nothing in common. Different lifestyles, different habits -- everything about us was different. I can count on my fingers the number of times we had a long, meaningful conversation. We were always nice to each other, no misunderstandings, no arguments. And we parted amicably after one year was up.
Now (since the last couple of weeks) I live with a stranger, the friend-of-a-friend. We are still in the process of getting to know each other.
The last three years have taught me a lot about human behaviour. In particular, they have taught me that compromises are not necessarily a negative thing. I have friends who have had torrid times with their roommates because of ego clashes -- if you don't want to compromise, you're in for a rough time.
Here are a few bits of advice I have for those who share their accomodations with roommates:
~ Living together does not necessarily mean you should become friends.
This is the first cardinal rule. Understand that you move in with your roommates more as a matter of convenience than anything else. During the first year I had my mine complaining about my not spending enough time with them and not sharing gossip with them. Please understand that you don't become soul-mates just because you live under the same roof. Learn to give your roomies enough space (especially if they happen to be girls). You will ultimately become friends if all the other factors fall into place, but don't push it.
~ Set the ground rules.
Very, very important. It was mutually agreed upon when I started living with my colleague that she would not smoke anywhere in the house, but in her own room. One morning I got up to find cigarette butts all over the living room floor. After that, she started smoking in the living room even when I was around. And my biggest mistake was that I never confronted her about this breach of our understanding.
Make sure the ground rules are set very early on and don't hesitate to confront the culprit if ever they are broken. You don't want to be stuck with a dirty kitchen, or clothes lying all around the house. It's important to discuss even trivial issues -- for instance, I am a sucker for open windows. I hate it when the curtains are drawn. And all the roommates I've had up until now have preferred to keep curtains drawn!
Also, you need to respect other's needs. During college, the person who wanted to stay up longer than the rest to study would make use of the kitchen, so that the others could sleep well -- my roommates were darlings when it came to this.
Make sure you divide the household chores and decide how the bills will be settled much in advance to avoid later misunderstandings. Most importantly, decide from the beginning what you will compromise on and what you will not -- and learn to realise when it's just not worth it.
~ Don't take sides.
Chances are you will be often be the audience to an argument or a fight between your roommates. Never -- and I mean never -- take sides. Even if you like one more than you like the other. You are only going to mess it up. After the first year, one of my roommates left. She and my other roommates had issues that couldn't be completely solved. During their arguments I never took sides, but remained neutral. And it helped in the long run.
~ Try your best to make it work.
It's good to start off with the positive assumption that the person you are going to move in with is very nice and that you will have a good time living with her/ him. Try to get to know your roommates better, try to be nice, be helpful -- trust me, simple things like saying good morning, asking how his/ her day was, saying goodnight, making two cups of tea instead of one -- these small gestures will contribute to a good relationship with your roommate.
For me, it's been one amazing ride -- lots and lots of stories to tell when I become a grandmom!
Unquote
This is the link in case you wanna see the original........
http://www.rediff.com/getahead/2007/jul/11room.htm
---
A few weeks back Rediff.com invited write ups about experiences of living with roommates,..... i was in my "transition"....(Read "Transition Syndrome") n hence had enough time to write about my experience. n guess what?..... they published it,... today. I m just reproducing the same here.... am sure you have lots to share.....
Quote
We asked readers to share their stories about living with roommates. Here, Janaki D, a 26-year-old Mumbai-based Mahindra & Mahindra employee, tells of her roomie experiences:
I moved to Bombay (I prefer to refer to the city by her earlier name) three years ago and have been living with roommates ever since. For the first two years, I had the same four roomies all through, then in the third year I was sharing company quarters with a colleague and recently, since only a couple of weeks now, with the friend-of-a-friend. And not once have I ever regretted living with any of them.
That is not to say it was rosy between us all the time. There are always compromises and adjustments to be made -- some amicably and some with closed fists and gritted teeth.
My first two years in Bombay were great. All four of us were away from home for the first time, and made the most of it. It was a lot of fun setting up a new house together. We got to know each other and had good times -- pillow fights, water fights and some real fights. I remember one time our flush broke and the house was flooded. After desperately trying to track a plumber, once the initial hysteria had died down, we started making boats and drenching each other. The four of us cuddled up together to sleep on a single bed that night, only to find that the house had flooded again the next morning!
We looked after each other and tended to whoever took ill; at the same time, we learned to give each other space when required. Even though we had different friend-circles in college we made sure to spend time with each other. We had dinner together regularly (at least during the first year), we rented DVDs and watched late night movies and porn together, we had innumerable all-night gossip sessions and late night coffee sessions.
During my third year in Mumbai I moved in with a colleague from work -- my company allotted us accomodation and the two of us were assigned roomies. This was a completely different experience altogether from my first two years. My new roommate was a great girl but we had absolutely nothing in common. Different lifestyles, different habits -- everything about us was different. I can count on my fingers the number of times we had a long, meaningful conversation. We were always nice to each other, no misunderstandings, no arguments. And we parted amicably after one year was up.
Now (since the last couple of weeks) I live with a stranger, the friend-of-a-friend. We are still in the process of getting to know each other.
The last three years have taught me a lot about human behaviour. In particular, they have taught me that compromises are not necessarily a negative thing. I have friends who have had torrid times with their roommates because of ego clashes -- if you don't want to compromise, you're in for a rough time.
Here are a few bits of advice I have for those who share their accomodations with roommates:
~ Living together does not necessarily mean you should become friends.
This is the first cardinal rule. Understand that you move in with your roommates more as a matter of convenience than anything else. During the first year I had my mine complaining about my not spending enough time with them and not sharing gossip with them. Please understand that you don't become soul-mates just because you live under the same roof. Learn to give your roomies enough space (especially if they happen to be girls). You will ultimately become friends if all the other factors fall into place, but don't push it.
~ Set the ground rules.
Very, very important. It was mutually agreed upon when I started living with my colleague that she would not smoke anywhere in the house, but in her own room. One morning I got up to find cigarette butts all over the living room floor. After that, she started smoking in the living room even when I was around. And my biggest mistake was that I never confronted her about this breach of our understanding.
Make sure the ground rules are set very early on and don't hesitate to confront the culprit if ever they are broken. You don't want to be stuck with a dirty kitchen, or clothes lying all around the house. It's important to discuss even trivial issues -- for instance, I am a sucker for open windows. I hate it when the curtains are drawn. And all the roommates I've had up until now have preferred to keep curtains drawn!
Also, you need to respect other's needs. During college, the person who wanted to stay up longer than the rest to study would make use of the kitchen, so that the others could sleep well -- my roommates were darlings when it came to this.
Make sure you divide the household chores and decide how the bills will be settled much in advance to avoid later misunderstandings. Most importantly, decide from the beginning what you will compromise on and what you will not -- and learn to realise when it's just not worth it.
~ Don't take sides.
Chances are you will be often be the audience to an argument or a fight between your roommates. Never -- and I mean never -- take sides. Even if you like one more than you like the other. You are only going to mess it up. After the first year, one of my roommates left. She and my other roommates had issues that couldn't be completely solved. During their arguments I never took sides, but remained neutral. And it helped in the long run.
~ Try your best to make it work.
It's good to start off with the positive assumption that the person you are going to move in with is very nice and that you will have a good time living with her/ him. Try to get to know your roommates better, try to be nice, be helpful -- trust me, simple things like saying good morning, asking how his/ her day was, saying goodnight, making two cups of tea instead of one -- these small gestures will contribute to a good relationship with your roommate.
For me, it's been one amazing ride -- lots and lots of stories to tell when I become a grandmom!
Unquote
This is the link in case you wanna see the original........
http://www.rediff.com/getahead/2007/jul/11room.htm
---
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Gifting frenzy
What do I write about? Let's see……. Let’s talk about buying a gift for a friend.
I am the kind of person who likes to be told what one wants for a gift. Please pardon me but I can not, rather do not want to, go through the thinking process of buying "something-nice". I don't want to buy something whose only purpose is to look good on the table or to dry and wither out in a couple of days. I rather buy something that really is a current want. (I would prefer if it is a need). When someone says "give me whatever you feel like"…….. I wanna fall on my knees and say "please please please give me your wish list".
You know what could be better. If the person you are buying the gift for goes along when you are buying the gift. I rather miss the "oh-my-God!-It’s-such-a-lovely-surprise!" look on a friend's face than have a "I-know-you-don't-like-it" look on mine.
I know what you are thinking………. The budget thingy. Well, what's the harm in sharing it? If you are not close enough to share the budget, why gift? Period.
While I am writing this I am wondering what prompted me to write it. Hey! Now I remember………… I have just been made to go through the process of buying "something-nice". It's a wonderful friend's birthday tomorrow. She said "We have been friends for three years now; you should know what I want. I am not going to tell you." Baby, I know you want a Harley, but have you seen my salary slip lately? I know you are looking for a music system, but that's for your sister. I know you love jewellery, but you don't trust my not-so-feminine taste. And our sweetheart friend who is pooling-in is too busy with work. But he did contribute by reminding me the consequences of making a bad choice!!... What did I buy?...... I put my not-so-feminine taste to good use to buy her a not-so-feminine jewellery set. Will have to wait till tomorrow to see the consequences. They did offer to exchange it if required…………….Small Mercies!
Getting back,….. I have tried and listed a few things that fall into the “if-can’t-think-of-anything,-buy-this” category……
Clothes……. (sweetheart….. its lovely, but it doesn’t fit me)
Cosmetics…. (honey..this is the color I was looking for but you bought the wrong shade.
I would have preferred R312 instead of R311!)…. Whatever!
Flowers…………… Duh!
Flower vase………..Duh!
Decorative piece.....you mean “look-at-me-once,-put-away-n-forget-me” piece?.......Duh! again
Stuffed toys…………..ya, right!
Lingerie……….. No way! That’s reserved for your wedding gift.
Porn..................for that you will have to be absolutely sure of your penchant(s)
Books………..now you are talking, but you will have to tell me which one………….
Bags…………..for the life of mine, I cannot do a good job of it!!
Watch………….. (it looks too small on my wrist)
Wallet………….please gimme your pocket dimensions
Hmmmm………..
May be…….nah……….
What about……....no!
.
.
.
Okay I can’t think of anything else……….!!
My dearest camaraderie, when ever you celebrate a happy occasion like a birthday, a wedding, finding a new boyfriend, dumping the old one, buying a new house, buying a new belt for your dog, getting a new gold tooth etc, etc….Please Please Please give me your wish list (please include all specifications of size, shape, color, smell…and whatever it takes to buy a successful gift) Will you please go with me to buy it?.............
Happy Birthday Meher! ;) Love you!
---
I am the kind of person who likes to be told what one wants for a gift. Please pardon me but I can not, rather do not want to, go through the thinking process of buying "something-nice". I don't want to buy something whose only purpose is to look good on the table or to dry and wither out in a couple of days. I rather buy something that really is a current want. (I would prefer if it is a need). When someone says "give me whatever you feel like"…….. I wanna fall on my knees and say "please please please give me your wish list".
You know what could be better. If the person you are buying the gift for goes along when you are buying the gift. I rather miss the "oh-my-God!-It’s-such-a-lovely-surprise!" look on a friend's face than have a "I-know-you-don't-like-it" look on mine.
I know what you are thinking………. The budget thingy. Well, what's the harm in sharing it? If you are not close enough to share the budget, why gift? Period.
While I am writing this I am wondering what prompted me to write it. Hey! Now I remember………… I have just been made to go through the process of buying "something-nice". It's a wonderful friend's birthday tomorrow. She said "We have been friends for three years now; you should know what I want. I am not going to tell you." Baby, I know you want a Harley, but have you seen my salary slip lately? I know you are looking for a music system, but that's for your sister. I know you love jewellery, but you don't trust my not-so-feminine taste. And our sweetheart friend who is pooling-in is too busy with work. But he did contribute by reminding me the consequences of making a bad choice!!... What did I buy?...... I put my not-so-feminine taste to good use to buy her a not-so-feminine jewellery set. Will have to wait till tomorrow to see the consequences. They did offer to exchange it if required…………….Small Mercies!
Getting back,….. I have tried and listed a few things that fall into the “if-can’t-think-of-anything,-buy-this” category……
Clothes……. (sweetheart….. its lovely, but it doesn’t fit me)
Cosmetics…. (honey..this is the color I was looking for but you bought the wrong shade.
I would have preferred R312 instead of R311!)…. Whatever!
Flowers…………… Duh!
Flower vase………..Duh!
Decorative piece.....you mean “look-at-me-once,-put-away-n-forget-me” piece?.......Duh! again
Stuffed toys…………..ya, right!
Lingerie……….. No way! That’s reserved for your wedding gift.
Porn..................for that you will have to be absolutely sure of your penchant(s)
Books………..now you are talking, but you will have to tell me which one………….
Bags…………..for the life of mine, I cannot do a good job of it!!
Watch………….. (it looks too small on my wrist)
Wallet………….please gimme your pocket dimensions
Hmmmm………..
May be…….nah……….
What about……....no!
.
.
.
Okay I can’t think of anything else……….!!
My dearest camaraderie, when ever you celebrate a happy occasion like a birthday, a wedding, finding a new boyfriend, dumping the old one, buying a new house, buying a new belt for your dog, getting a new gold tooth etc, etc….Please Please Please give me your wish list (please include all specifications of size, shape, color, smell…and whatever it takes to buy a successful gift) Will you please go with me to buy it?.............
Happy Birthday Meher! ;) Love you!
---
Friday, June 15, 2007
Transition syndrome
It’s the end of my training period and am scheduled to start regular work. I had been waiting for this day for ages ( one year to be precise)……… then, the team I am supposed to join leaves for China on a week long trip. So, what do I end up having?.......... four days, with absolutely nothing to do……………. Transition syndrome……….People in their regular jobs pray for such miracles to happen. For me, who couldn’t wait to start regular work, it was just short of being shot in the head…………..
I know what you are saying……….. “you should read something”………….. , well, reading is what I did for the last three months during a project which was actually as bad as being shot in the head. I am only glad I did not snap……..well, not yet………….. I realized the adage “empty mind is a devil’s workshop” couldn’t be truer………….. I had devils of all shapes, sizes and colors in my head. I think they were partying. Things I thought of or things I did!!!......I am not sure I want to share all of it on a public forum.
Its worse when your friends, who till last week were as jobless as you were, suddenly get busy and cant even make it for lunch. I end up having lunch with two girls in their early twenties and a guy from my batch and talk about things that girls in their early twenties talk about………….. boys!! ( that’s an other pity, there are only boys to talk about………no men,………more about it later). This guy is of not much help because he is trying to impress one of them…..wait!, may be both of them. Well, I sit there listening to them talking about guys and giving a smile here and a chuckle there. I was also expected to give my expert opinion!!. I wanna get out of there but don’t because I have nowhere better to go. (Damn!! This radio is also playing songs about loneliness!!)………..in hindsight, I think it was nice and funny………:)………. At least one of the girls is a lot of fun………….
So what do you do when you have nothing to do? Well, you suddenly remember all your old friends, you miss your mom more than ever, you daydream, you write a mail to someone and stare at the screen till you get the reply ( I am not making this up!), your loo frequency increases three fold (the a/c helps), people you always thought were very boring suddenly start sounding quite interesting, you never take the lift, you feel blessed when a friend asks for a favor (girls, if you are reading this, thank you), you get into your absent boss’s cabin and sleep (okay! I made this one up…:) …… may be I should try this)………..
Then, this morning I am very happy because my team is coming back today. Its 11 am and they are not in office. I think I should ruefully assume that they are not coming today. One more day to spend. I think it will be okay today, I have company for lunch and I have discovered that blogs can help me reduce the free space in my head and keep the devils out…….at least the bigger ones…………….moreover it will not be bad to start on a Monday.
However may I have spent this week, I think its kinda good to go through this at least once………. Guess will enjoy my work more…………..
You guys continue working and I will go and see if I can open my boss’s cabin…………. !!
---
I know what you are saying……….. “you should read something”………….. , well, reading is what I did for the last three months during a project which was actually as bad as being shot in the head. I am only glad I did not snap……..well, not yet………….. I realized the adage “empty mind is a devil’s workshop” couldn’t be truer………….. I had devils of all shapes, sizes and colors in my head. I think they were partying. Things I thought of or things I did!!!......I am not sure I want to share all of it on a public forum.
Its worse when your friends, who till last week were as jobless as you were, suddenly get busy and cant even make it for lunch. I end up having lunch with two girls in their early twenties and a guy from my batch and talk about things that girls in their early twenties talk about………….. boys!! ( that’s an other pity, there are only boys to talk about………no men,………more about it later). This guy is of not much help because he is trying to impress one of them…..wait!, may be both of them. Well, I sit there listening to them talking about guys and giving a smile here and a chuckle there. I was also expected to give my expert opinion!!. I wanna get out of there but don’t because I have nowhere better to go. (Damn!! This radio is also playing songs about loneliness!!)………..in hindsight, I think it was nice and funny………:)………. At least one of the girls is a lot of fun………….
So what do you do when you have nothing to do? Well, you suddenly remember all your old friends, you miss your mom more than ever, you daydream, you write a mail to someone and stare at the screen till you get the reply ( I am not making this up!), your loo frequency increases three fold (the a/c helps), people you always thought were very boring suddenly start sounding quite interesting, you never take the lift, you feel blessed when a friend asks for a favor (girls, if you are reading this, thank you), you get into your absent boss’s cabin and sleep (okay! I made this one up…:) …… may be I should try this)………..
Then, this morning I am very happy because my team is coming back today. Its 11 am and they are not in office. I think I should ruefully assume that they are not coming today. One more day to spend. I think it will be okay today, I have company for lunch and I have discovered that blogs can help me reduce the free space in my head and keep the devils out…….at least the bigger ones…………….moreover it will not be bad to start on a Monday.
However may I have spent this week, I think its kinda good to go through this at least once………. Guess will enjoy my work more…………..
You guys continue working and I will go and see if I can open my boss’s cabin…………. !!
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Tuesday, June 12, 2007
me......till now
Finally!!........ it took me ages to right this first blog.............
Before writing anythng i want to thank everyone/everything who/that has contributed to making my life as interesting as it is............
I am most thankful to the man who took my K.J.Somaiya interview (forgive my memory, i don't remember his name) . i think my life took a complete turn when he selected me. i still wonder why..... probably because he liked my honesty when i accepted ignorance when asked what SEBI was...(honestly, i didn't know it then).......... now i am believer of the adage - "when ignorant, be honest"........... i think i created it :)
So, what do you think was the first thing i did when the results were announced?.......... some of you might have guessed it right........ i went and got my hair cut. of course my mom freaked out.....even though she saw it coming. what does a daughter do when she wants to get her hair cut and is scared to face her darling mom? well, she does the most intelligent thing.....she takes her darling dad along!!!!........... so instead of a "what-have-you-done-to-your-hair?" look she had a "how-could-you-let-her-do-this?" look on her face.....love you ma:)........ thank you pa:)....love you too....
Well, i landed in Bombay ( i prefer to call her this) leaving behind the darling city of Bangalore (its BANGALORE, BANGALORE, BANGALORE!!) with a brand new haircut and a pair of brand new wings. the thought of living alone for the first time has its highs.......i don't think the English language has enough adjectives to define it completely. the hangover hasn't left me ever since.....
These three years have been the most defining in my life. i have discovered facets of life i didn't know existed. i have discovered facets of myself i didn't know existed. i have discovered facets of the world i didn't know existed. these discoveries (n i m still discovering) have made me fall in love over and over again, with this life, with this city, with this world at large.
I have lived more life in the last three years than i have ever lived. the friends i made, the people i met, the places i visited, the adventures i had, the things i do..... every thing in the last three years has contributed to making me the person i am today.
Every morning when i get up there's one thing that's always on my to-do list.... to fall in love all over again with this wonderful life........ and I do..........every single day.
Before writing anythng i want to thank everyone/everything who/that has contributed to making my life as interesting as it is............
I am most thankful to the man who took my K.J.Somaiya interview (forgive my memory, i don't remember his name) . i think my life took a complete turn when he selected me. i still wonder why..... probably because he liked my honesty when i accepted ignorance when asked what SEBI was...(honestly, i didn't know it then).......... now i am believer of the adage - "when ignorant, be honest"........... i think i created it :)
So, what do you think was the first thing i did when the results were announced?.......... some of you might have guessed it right........ i went and got my hair cut. of course my mom freaked out.....even though she saw it coming. what does a daughter do when she wants to get her hair cut and is scared to face her darling mom? well, she does the most intelligent thing.....she takes her darling dad along!!!!........... so instead of a "what-have-you-done-to-your-hair?" look she had a "how-could-you-let-her-do-this?" look on her face.....love you ma:)........ thank you pa:)....love you too....
Well, i landed in Bombay ( i prefer to call her this) leaving behind the darling city of Bangalore (its BANGALORE, BANGALORE, BANGALORE!!) with a brand new haircut and a pair of brand new wings. the thought of living alone for the first time has its highs.......i don't think the English language has enough adjectives to define it completely. the hangover hasn't left me ever since.....
These three years have been the most defining in my life. i have discovered facets of life i didn't know existed. i have discovered facets of myself i didn't know existed. i have discovered facets of the world i didn't know existed. these discoveries (n i m still discovering) have made me fall in love over and over again, with this life, with this city, with this world at large.
I have lived more life in the last three years than i have ever lived. the friends i made, the people i met, the places i visited, the adventures i had, the things i do..... every thing in the last three years has contributed to making me the person i am today.
Every morning when i get up there's one thing that's always on my to-do list.... to fall in love all over again with this wonderful life........ and I do..........every single day.
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