Transmorigification

adios mate!

2006-11-06T01:38:00.000-08:00

I have always been a sucker for cartoons.

For me, cartoons make more sense than TV or movies. As most of them cater to kids, they have to. Children take no bull from anyone.

But cartoons keep changing.

For a long time, calvin & hobbes was my favourite cartoon. But, now a days, I like South Park better. Way better.

Hence, shifting now to a new blog.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

Learning experience Redux

2006-10-23T23:16:00.000-07:00

Searching for a house to stay in Salt Lake can be a life altering experience.

Now, don't get all politically correct on me. I mean no disrespect to Bongs, especially when some of the most intelligent and most beautiful creatures I have met are from this place ( men and women, respectively.) I love the local food, love the haunting songs, love the one mall which they have here which is any day better than any of the Gurgawaa! ones, love the eateries and second hand bookshops...

Yeah I know. You are waiting for the 'but' right? Here goes...

The IT boom in Salt Lake - or rather, the BPO boom - resulted in many PYTs (professional young things) landing in here. They have a certain budget, and do not believe in keeping aside much for accommodation.

Me? I am an old lady, needing my peace, solitude and freedom. Opting for an apartment is fine, thanks to a generous packet by the company. Enter my knights, the brokers.

I guess we call the real estate agents brokers as eventually they manage to break your heart. The spelling? Don't probe too deep yaar. They might have misspelled it, for all we know.

The gems offered were:

A furnace simulation with no fans, ventilation, windows opening into other people's curious eyes...

A bed in a three bed room within a three bedroom flat with two bathrooms - and all inhabited by females who would want to leave by 08:30 AM everyday....

A flat where everything leaks - wash basins, pipes, toilets, drains, walls...

Harry Potter's cupboard room under the stairs. I think this one is a bit smaller though...

One on the fourth floor - no lift, and one door opens from the landlord's side so that they can keep a 'watch'. Duh?

Finally, took up the cupboard as it offered the promise of some privacy. Ha. Ha. One week later, I can empathize with my grandmom's pet fish, who invariably got poked around the aquarium when we kids were in her home. May be this is the fish's curse. If so, I should warn the youngest of us to stop the poking habit....

Getting fleeced on everything from rent to value added services like washing the clothes, in addition to the invasion of the cupboard by other tenant, the servants, the landlady, her kid... and their need to know the intricacies of my laptop, my mobile and my camera...

The good things?

The two Alsatian dogs of the owner of the house, who live with her on the first floor. By the time I leave, I plan to be friends with those adorable balls of fur and muscle who are as tall as me.

The almost magical scents of the night when I walk down the lane every night. A heady mix of various night flowers which I am yet to find in a parfum bottle.

Like a drop of paint added to water, it mix and melt into my prosaic life, making it colorful.

Learning experience

2006-10-08T22:18:00.000-07:00

For the past few weeks, I have been talking with my juniors, their juniors, batchmates, old engineering friends, past and present colleagues and what not. Now, sitting back on a Sunday evening, I realize that we talk a different tongue. For the benefit of the greater humanity; I decode one of the omnipresent words in Yembeeyeah!speak:

Learning experience : (1) Failing to do or achieve something (2) flunk out of a course (3) circumstances which suck big time.

Eg: (1) Boss :Did you complete the project?

Employee : Well.. It was more of a learning experience...

(Experienced bosses do not venture beyond this point. They know that it is a lost cause to be overly curious about the project. They make a mental note to bring down the intended salary hike of the employee by a few notches and move on.)

Eg: (2) Friend1: Dude, how come you are 29 with no work experience and just passed out of MBA?

Friend2: Dude, I had some learning experiences man!

Friend1: Oh, yeah? Which all classes?

( Note the refined sidestepping of the words flunked, failed, repeated etc. and how Friend1 cuts straight to the chase. )

Eg: (3) Department Head: How do you find the new city? How is the guesthouse where you are put up?

Eagerbeaver employee : I love it! It is a great learning experience!

( In a slightly hysterical, high pitched voice with a 28 teeth baring smile; which is so akin of an orangutan baring its teeth in fear. By the way, it is one more evidence to the Darwian theory.

The two sentences means : " I hate it here. There are no friends here and I do not understand this language. This food is different from what we eat it is too spicy/not at all spicy (crossout whichever is not applicable) and people here do/do not (crossout whichever is not applicable) talk Hindi. It is too hot/cold (crossout whichever is not applicable) here. The people use too much oil in their food/hair (crossout whichever is not applicable) that it stinks always. I want to be in the other department. But I am not going to make any career limiting statements and exhibit negativity. Atleast, not to you."

Now; knowing that a lot of you know about me shifting to Calcutta; here are my learning experiences from Bongland:

Finding an apartment to stay : somebody pass me the contact details of people who can fix up an apartment for me please! (1)

Language : It reminds me of the times when I hear Hindi, Tamil or Malayalam being spoken; but cannot make out the words. (2 : And I haven't even started the course! )

Food : The guys in the guesthouse believe in excesses; especially of salt, garlic and oil in all kinds of food. (3)

The rumored readers of this blog; bhailog; thoda madat keejiye!

Self help? Bah!

2006-09-25T07:27:00.000-07:00

You see, the problem with all the self help books is that, they snip out the really important stuff. Same with the self help columns. I abhor self help books but have read most of them - life plays these dirty tricks on you every now and then - and read atleast two of online advice givers - the respectable variety - regularly.

so as I was saying, they really don't teach you how to do stuff. Let me put it another way. Suppose you have this person whom you know back from someplace. Life's little games have brought you into closer contract with this person, and she aint half as bad as you thought. Just that she is on her way to commit professional harakkiri - or second thoughts it should be just suicide as harakkiri is an honorable custom amongst the Japanese - by getting too close to this other dude at work and everybody in their department knows and even though their work policy says nothing about this, it is a no-no in there you know what I mean? So my question is, how do I tell her that 'dudette, be discreet?' huh? Nobody ever tell ki how you have to actually do stuff. They just say ' yeah, just do it' like nike sponsors their columns.

just do it, eh? Do you know how bloody difficult it is? I would do it in a perfect world where she or he will listen to me when I tell them that they have been a silly ass and at the end of it they just hug me thanks and pledge me eternal friendship and we walk into the sunset as friends forever.

hahahahahahahaha. Just thinking about it make me laugh out loud, the same way I did when we gals used to read out the really mushy stuff from MnB books back in engineering days. It is probably the idealistic state, but you know it aint going to happen and it aint going to happen to you and you hope it aint gonna happen to your friends and if bychance it did, then they would shutup about it. Listen to me snicker and guffaw. It is real life mediocrity laughing at idealistic state.

so finally I try telling this to her in a perfectly casual way by wrapping it around a thousand stories and to make this one drop fall on the ground, I create a summer rain and hide the drop insie it. I mean, isn't she intelligent enough to understand it?

I mean, it is not just her. There is this other miss who want me to tell her when she is bumbling up, but I have given up as it is just thunder after lightening. It makes a huge sound, but it is not what burns down trees and zap down people.

I guess I should start writing a column myself. It should get mail from people who want me to tell it to the face of others that they are fucking up and how? With a signing off moniker like say 'Ms Hardknox' or 'Ms Take' . I personally prefer 'Ms. Bitch' short sweet and universally understood. The problem and what exactly I think of it will be my column and I will send a personal mail to the person who is eating his foot.

any editors with money out there?

Tales from Yembeeyeah! land

2006-09-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in Yembeeyeah! land, there was a good looking chap. Tall, fair, slightly rolly-polly, cleanshaven and hygienic. A mother's dream choice for her daughter. Let us call him Alag; for he was the rare species whom moms like to see their daughters dating and whom many daughters themselves wanted to date.

Alag went forth, one dreary summer day, to sell toothpaste to the interior India. This was due to the (mis?)conception that many people had - if you sweat your summers out instead of relaxing on a beach side, you have better chances to 'make it'.

Although nobody understood what you are supposed to 'make it' people saw the summer as a character building time and forced kids to go here, there and everywhere. Alag was sent to the interiors of buffalo land, where from the chief minister to the chief of dacoits had buffalos by the dozen.

As it was the big momma of all interiors, he decided to acquaint himself with the Sarpanch of the village. Yes my friends, the Indian Coffee House istyle frilled headgear which looks like a fat dove who just spread its tail feathers was on his head. The women at his home were neither seen (tauba! tauba!!) nor heard ( how dare they? ).

Sarpanch uvacha: "Beta, tell me something about yourself."

Err.. actually not, but something to that effect.

Alag went on and on. The Sarpanch, like a good recruiter, had zeroed in on what he actually wanted to know. Still, he asked to confirm:

"So, are you single or committed?"

No, it didnot sound like a dating site question. Still...

Alag was free as free can be, so he said

"Single, singleReady to mingle(and this to himself)I wonder if he has a babe called Twinkle?"

The Sarpanch did not have a babe called Twinkle. However, he had a daughter called Chameli. He turned back to the oblivion of his home, and shouted:

"Yo the hot momma of my daughter Chameli, dont send the chai by our old servant Motiram. Send it by our Chameli lass. Let Alag see her and fall in love.."

So on and so forth.

Alag suddenly remembered a imaginary emergency and scooted. Last heard, he ditched his designer shoes and clothes for Hawaii chappals and roadside tshirts. And yup, he also stopped bathing and looked pathetic than Motiram through the entire character building exercise of Summer.

Looking back... and looking ahead.

2006-09-01T06:43:00.000-07:00

I decided on which company to join pretty early. Two of my best friends from the senior batch has already joined that firm, and the chance to be with them for some more years was too tempting. They used to call me almost every week, come down to campus at regular intervals and mail once in a while. Apart from crushes, girl friends, campus, professors, life, love and universe, we also discussed the work.

It was good to hear that they were happy about their work. So what if it is a bit overworked... you really have to slog it out in the initial years anyway. It was full of my seniors and alumni from our college. Can life get any better?

I also decided to try for another group - they have their own system akin to the civil service. Having betrayed my family's IAS/IFS ambitions for an MBA, it was the least I could do. Besides, I also had friends who already got job offers from the company and who were planning to take it up.

A big NO was there for the FMCG sector. Not because I have anything against them, but because I was convinced - or brainwashed, to use the right term - by one of the faculty that you need atleast an A in the various Law papers to atleast think of qualifying for an FMCG. I took the easy way out - did not touch the book, but mentally voted the FMCGs off my list.

Then the fizzy guys. Granted, I got into them both swimmingly for my summers. Granted, I know people who work in both - again, loving seniors - and think they are cool. But my communist upbringing was opening a can of self questioning : How comfortable I would be, if I was asked to go to my state where people were fighting for these guys to shut down on their factory? Do I want to choose between my upbringing, four years of graduation and friends and a man who unceremoniously - arrogantly, again, to use the right word - ignored the question about the pesticides when he visited our campus?

No.

Do I want to work for the IT companies? Well, atleast they have free internet.

The first company did choose me for the final interview. However, small things - how the ppt presentation was made, how the man talked proudly about not having time for his family.. it all came out in the interview. I walked out knowing that I did not make it, and I was happy that I did not.

Then, friends from the clone companies came calling. Forget them, join us. Said another friend. Again, doubt, questioning. How different will the two be? I chose not to apply to that bunch of earnest and young swashbucklers at all.

The company with the IAS hierarchy had a long form to fill up. I thought of doodling towards the end, but finally gave some prefunctory answers and sent it across.

Meanwhile, across a dinner table and a coffee table, I had got a job. This made me pretty much happy. I was not in love, but I was in like.

Recruitment time in full swing. Applied to three companies who came on the first day. Walked out of one after telling the interviewer that I do not want that job profile. Screwed up the other one by being myself. The last one. No seniors here, no batchmates so far. Nobody knows anything about them. I have not attended their ppt. My friends who are going for the interview have not pegged it high. "What arbitness.. " I muttered to myself.

I would not call it love at first sight. Both the people who interrviewed me are happily married, and one of them is a woman. I liked the lady, the way she talked, and the fact that her hair was streaked. I made a mental note to streak likewise as soon as the process gets over. It was more like talking to an elder cousin, discussing life and work. And I discovered to my mortification that even though they deal with technology, they are very much an FMCG.

"Hey, this aint half bad." I told myself. I knew that if the lady was as straight talking as she sounded, I stood a chance of getting a second round call.

I enter the room to fnd a middle aged gentleman wearing a chequred half sleeve shirt looking curiously at me. "Is this the interview room?" I asked.

Boy, Where are his formals? May be the poor chap lost his luggage. However, he was in a good mood despite that, and I happily chatted away with him. Half way through, my cell phone rang to the tune of some cheesy movie jatka number. I fumbled and cursed under my breath trying to locate the phone in any one of my suit pockets. He looked on with a bemused smile.

"Attend the call." Attend the call??? Are you kidding me?????? You may be dressed informally because you lost your luggage. But asking me to take my call equals telling me politely that I am not getting the job. Anyway, I thought of the verbal lashing the poor placement committee guys were going to get because of me ( they had got thrashed because food was not hot enough in some earlier occasion) and sat through and talked. And talked.

By the time I came out, I was in love. I went up to the placement guy handling this company and told him; "If they want me, I am in. I am in love with them." He smiled ( a cute smile, I should add here) and about three hours later, told me and other three friends, that we are accepted. I smiled. I grinned. And I grinned some more when I saw one of my friends saying yes to the offer. "I like them. They are very chill people." was his response.

Am I happy now?

Yes.

Do I love my work?

Yes.

Do I love my colleagues?

Yes.

Will I recommend my company to you and ask you to join us?

No.

What I can do is to tell you about my company. Whether you fit in here or not, that is a decision you have to make ( and the company too).

So any of my juniors reading this, keep this in mind. Joining a company and the 'lightening bolt' [ ref MarioPuzo's Godfather] is not very different. I hope you guys find your lightening bolts.

These are just some of my favourite friends

2006-08-24T06:33:00.000-07:00

The One who, in our first face to face meeting, wanted to blast me for 'outing' his blog link to my PG community. The only guy with whom I can discuss guys.

The One whom people either mistook as my elder brother or else as my twin. He still is, for all practical purposes.

The One who was too Tam and too weird. He still is, but I love him all the more for that.

The One who, calls me up only when he wants to, and talks as much as he wants to. Whatever we become, I would know that he would be a part of my life in some way or other.

The One with whom I bonded over a factory visit and Tamil songs. My kindred soul in mischief.

The One whose mind I can read the best and the most. Most of the times, I try not to. Babe, you should speak out more often what you read in me.

The One who helped me out in my committees, and always stood by me. We neednot keep in touch, but we will be there for each other.

The One whom I looked upto in awe as a phenomenon, and whom I now bug for news about sprited liquids. When did we shift from dude to bro?

The One whom I became friends with the ulterior motive [ one of his friends was the focal point ;) ], and who somehow became one of my closest friends, a sounding board after a 1Km walk from the town back to college. My friend, colleague and family.

The One who is two continents away, but is always there to respond to a mail or a scrap. My one and only sister, for whom I will do almost anything.

The One who was the earlier one's roomie... and with whom I can start a conversation even if we meet after 4 years. I love her!

The One who always looked out for me when I was a fool in love. Thank you.

The one who became my friend thanks to this blog. And who somehow became a source and outlet for hugs.

The one with whom I bonded over some incompetent nincompoops. And who now help me not to become one.

The one whom I have never seen. And know that someday, somewhere, you will take me out for lunch and make me pay for it.

The one whom I always thought was not my type. But now one chap whose mails I do look forward to.

The one whom I thought was a sissy boy. Well, you still are! :))

Addendum to the previous

2006-08-23T22:39:00.000-07:00

Ok, I hope that if someone showed you the earlier post, they show you this one too.

I have been doing some thinking. And what do you expect, you are actually a good friend of mine - atleast I feel that way.

So I aint going anywhere. I'm right here at the sidelines, cheering you on, and when you feel too bummed, will provide you with some pep talk or offer a hand to pull you up [ but if that happen, be prepared to get a life time on 'I told you so' s ].

Did the mistake of walking away from a similar situation in the past, I don't want to commit the same mistake twice and lose a friend.

Herez to us! Yup, and to you two too.

Don't expect me to be BFF with her anytime soon though.

Requiem of a friendship

2006-08-22T08:27:00.000-07:00

I really, really hope that someone shows you this post. Someone who kinda get the picture and care for me enough.

Friend, I am bailing out.

Had I been naive, I would have stayed put.

Had we actually talked about love, life and universe, I would have stayed put.

Oh what the hell... Had I loved your girlfriend, I would have stayed put.

But life is not always perfect.

I wanted to run when you said you would like us to be friends. I wanted to run when you were being nice and sweet to me, even when I was downright insulting. But you stayed put.

We could have been good friends, even best buddies. The past few days, I have really enjoyed your company. I have looked forward to our conversations which were looking like a classic example of Calvin meet Dogbert.

The few friends whom I have, the few friends whom I care for; I love them, and also those who love them. I am good friends with their better halves, siblings, friends and in some cases; even the parents. I would have loved to have such a relationship with you too.

However, I forgot something.

Friendship get shortchanged in comparison to almost every relationship.

Between blood relations and friendships, friendship loses.

Between sex and friendship, friendship has to walk away.

Between any relationship and friendship, friendship get hit.

Of all human connections, friendship is at the bottom rung of the food chain.

Given that you are my friend, I would not want to watch you making what I think is one of the biggest mistakes of your life. I really really wish that I would be proved wrong. However, in cases like this, the cynic in me has been having a perfect score so far.

But it depends on what you want. Whatever it be, because you are my friend and I want to see you being happy, I would want you to get it. And I really would not want to stand around and watch you make a fool of yourself, as it is going to be a painful process for me.

So thank you for your company, your wit, your patience. Adios, and take a bow. You deserve the applause.

Tag

2006-08-11T15:44:00.000-07:00

I am thinking
About my friends with whom I have not kept in touch. I miss them.

I said
"Why me?" when unexpected events happen in my life. I still do.

I want
To belong... Desperately.

I wish
I could care less about them and more about me and get on with my life

I miss
Macchan, Jha, Maya, Dott, Wolfy, Kush, Anoop... and the nice conversations we had [ who said you cannot talk to animals?]

I hear
Just the hum of my laptop now. It is dead silent here.

I wonder
When I will be able to get some sleep.

I regret
Well... nothing really.

I am
Brahmasmi.

I dance
If I am totally ignored in the crowd... or if I have good company to dance.

I sing
Karnatic if I want to energize myself, melodies if I am alone, and funky tunes when I am ready to roll!

I cry
When I am frustrated or more correctly, angry. Sadness is a slow poison which corrodes my mind. It never crosses the threshold of the eyes.

I am not
an extrovert

I write
When I have to.

I confuse
Hindi grammar

I need
To put it down on paper and faast!

I should
Go for more walks and call up my friends

I finish
My work on time. Else I get psyched about it.

Passing the tags to:
Jina
Raven
KD
And Manoj too, if you still read my blog.

And hey, Raven, you are the only non mallu of the lot :)

Actually...

2006-08-07T10:50:00.000-07:00

Mashmallows for breakfast.

Sunny sky with a nice friendly mongrel to pet.

Captain Sparrow with popcorn.

Long winded sms conversations.

10th floor flats, wind and clouds.

Rain from the office windows.

A good book to read.

Mails from friends.

Bubble bath with books.

Songs that you overhear.

Tequila so much that you see double.

Fruit chat with neembu paani.

Mashed potatoes and pork.

An extra pillow to hug.

Contributing to your parent's home for the first time.

My first blog which rediff has not deleted yet.

Yes, life is not as bad as I crib about.

Demands

2006-08-07T10:48:00.000-07:00

Make me strong, and weak.
Give me the courage to run the race, and say no to it.
Give me friends, and keep me detached.
Teach me to laugh, cry, and to feel.
Teach me to let go, and forgive.
Teach me to remember, and thank.
Teach me to avenge.
Help me, to say no, and yes.
Help me, to bend and to be rigid.
Help me to trust, but don’t make me naïve.
Help me learn about new things

And let me be.

Whiskey Maggie

2006-08-01T11:30:00.000-07:00

Yup, you read it right.

XLers tend to think that every other person - especially from the IIM-FMS-MDI circuits are as debauched as they are. So when an otherwise normal looking man refuses non veg food, doesn't dance or drink, we take it upon ourselves to reform them.

Two of us decided to reform or corrupt - depending on your POV - this nice young chap - referred to as Ã¤Kid' from now on - from IIMA. The initial days were difficult - especially if the person in question calls Pirates ofCaribbean-II 'grotesque'. But we toiled and toiled. And toiled some more.

There is just one day left before his banishment to some place where he would not get a house for rent as he is unmarried. We meet up in the company party, and after a good dose of Euphoria, we all are dancing. Even the kid. I stop for a while to stare at this rare phenomenon, only to find him snatch a full glass of whiskey from a colleague of mine and gulpgulpp it down.

"Dude, its not water... its whiskey... " I gently break the news to him.

" I know da."

Shock and awe. I search frantically for my partner in this crime - I have a long history of different antics and different partners for each of them - and tell him about this.

"The Kid has grown up!" We rejoice.

The next day, our Kid is packing up his stuff. There is gonna be no care taker in the guest house it being a Sunday and all. Kid comes over to me, pats my head - how the hell did he find out that I generally relent when someone pats my head? - and asks me :

"Da, make me someMaggiee na..."

Needless to say, I relent.

However, as I am in the kitchen, the other XLer comes over. With a bottle of whiskey n hand. TheMaggiei is almost ready. We both look at each other, and in that implicit understanding that only two lowlife; upto no good people can, he opens the bottle for me and I pour a sizable quantity of whiskey onto theMaggiei.

It is served. Kid eats it, his face happy. It actually tastes good. And once he finishes it, the two of us get ready for the confession.

" Actually.. we added.."

"Vodka? Beer?" he asks.

"Nope dude, whiskey." We sheepishly reply.

addendumm: why do I blog this? Because I miss the Kid and my partner in this crime. And also because the magi did turn out rather well. And my grand boss told me - after I told him this story over dinner one evening - that vodka or wine is usually added to food to give it that extra zing.

A fever...

2006-07-25T08:34:00.000-07:00

A fever...

Makes you prioritize your life. You will still watch Johnny Depp's antics on screen, but will sacrifice fashion and will go bundled up in a winter coat in Gurgaon.

Makes you talk less and listen more. You have to, especially if your throat hurt every 30 seconds.

Makes you prioritize your work. First things first! Every minute is a race against falling flat on the bed.

Makes you develop your own diet. If I have been eating the way I do when I am ill, I would never get sick. Body knows what to eat and drink, and what to avoid.

Makes you health conscious. It takes guts to ask someone else not to smoke around you, especially when you are not smoking. The times when I had ended up stinking of cigarette smoke [ both sexes guilty ]... but a fever puts me in the self preservation mode and make me move away.

Men Continued

2006-07-09T14:40:00.000-07:00

However, I would strongly recommend any girl to have some guys as close friends around. Its all very well to have women friends around, but you do need men to tell you :

"Stop being such a drama queen!" Honey, lets face it - we would love our lives to be one long Mills and Boons or Yash Chopra/Karan Johar movie. However, it is seldom so. Life is boring and most of the times, very ordinary. But we tend to view it with 100 garishly dressed dancers and loads of background music. The men tell us to get a reality check, and move on with our life.

"That looks stupid on you." Your best guy friends never let you go out looking like someone from a kid's nightmare. Their incredulous looks and inability to mask that "are you really going to pay money to wear it? " look save you from many fashion fumbles.

"He is not worth it." Our women friends are expected to say it. But when the men speak out against one of their creed, it sounds more credible.

"Anything is fine." Really, you can wear anything on a guys night out with the boys. However, it is only advisable if you guys are 100% friends.

"I will pay for it." And most of the times, they will. While it is alright to split the bill equitably amongst your girl pals, it does feel nice to be treated to something once in a while.

"Lets watch it." They do not mind watching comic book movies the second time just to give you company.

"It's cool, dude." They are fine with you forgetting their birthdays, even if they happen to remember yours.

"@#!#? ^*$@~@#$!!!" When was the last time you really had an abuse session with your gal pals? We need men to truly let down our wild side and to airlift us from there when things get dirty.

"I'm so sorry.." They are. They truly are when they think that they have hurt us. But rather than telling it like our gal pals, they make it up to us in a thousand different ways.

Men... How can women ever hate them?

Men!

2006-07-01T09:58:00.000-07:00

Lets get back to my favorite subject: Men. First the Yucky stuff: The freaks in Orkut.

What makes people think that I would be interested in adding totally unknown men as my 'friend'? Why, O why; do they think that I would be oh so impressed by their pick up messages and corny teasers? Why do they think that if they say a 'Hi' or comment that I have an interesting profile - News Flash : I DON'T have one, so don't even try that line on me! - I would want to talk to them?

Now the hotty stuff : FIFA World Cup.

Whoever said that women doesn't love football is an idiot. We do love football, or for that matter, any game where fit and virile men wear shorts and run around with funky hairdos. Especially when we are surrounded by beer bellies and balding heads, even a Peter Crouch looks sexy.

We do know the fundas about offside and the yellow and red cards. But still, it is fun to ask a man to explain offside. Last night at a friend's place, we had a dude explain offside using Nokia communicators ( there were a couple lying around ) and a match box. It was actually pretty entertaining. Gals out there, try it out. It makes men make some weird football analogies. Last night it was compared to parking a car in the garage.

Our favorite part of the game is when they score. The antics of men when they kick a ball into a net is pretty much fun to watch. However, the most interesting part is when they take their shirts off - ooops, exchange the jerseys after the match.

Now the sweet stuff : Marathon smses.
It is really sweet when they dutifully reply to your emails and smses, call you up and listen to your smallest details of life, and advice you and cheer for you from the sidelines like big brothers and finally give you a good night kiss - via sms - and push you off to bed.

Now for the cutsy stuff: Wee bit jealousy.

It is very cute when men get jealous, but feel too high-minded to let you know that they are jealous. It is cuter still when they try to put it in such a way that they are not really jealous, but giving you good advice which just happen to tell you to not buy that new male friend of yours any birthday gifts. But the cutest is when they get caught in the act and realize that you have been knowingly needling them and go all incommunicado.

Men! Such a lot of work unfinished, but life would be much duller without them.

Vignettes of Conversation

2006-06-25T04:56:00.000-07:00

I did not have more than two shots of tequilas this weekend. Given my history of weekend binges, this one was sedate by all accounts. But given a choice to relive any of the three weekends that I spent in Gurgaon, this one wins hands down.

That is because you called up. Then you too called up. Funny isn't it; that one person can affect you so much? After a combined phone conversation amounting to 75 minutes - given that we both grunt our news to each other and hang up - I was giddy with happiness. The simple fact that someone calls you up, and talks to you can affect you so much. Yes, it is a scary state to be in, but the highs you get are amazing.

A few days back, I was discussing this with a friend of mine. " Why do I feel so emotional when it comes to my personal life? Why do I become paranoid and crazy when someone doesnot talk to me?? How can I allow others to affect my life so much?? I wish I was as cool and collected in my personal life as in my professional life."

"But why??? Granted, it hurts a lot and it drives you crazy. But then, doesn't it also make you happy? Unless you feel the sadness, how will you feel the joy?"

True. Very True.

Now cut to another conversation. We were talking about a common friend who had to undergo some emotionally hard times. So my friend asks me:

"But why are girls so stupid??"

"Girls are generally stupid when it comes to love."

A Pause.

"Even me."

"Oh."

Cut to another conversation.

"I dont know what I am doing. I am acting like a 14 year old!!"

"It's good that you realize that you are acting like one. And stop being such a drama queen! It's not the end of the world, you know!"

Yup, it is not. And I know it. But it still makes me better when you spell it out to me.

Gurgaon Vignettes

2006-06-20T01:55:00.000-07:00

Friend, on the way to a dinner invitation : "We can call this our rural stint. There are just malls and nothing else here!"

Malls are the magic lamps of Aladdin in Gurgaon. Your basic needs like food, sprits, movies, clothes, jewelries etc. would be provided for in these wonderlands. If you want something beyond these, buddy, best of luck!

Evenings are earmarked for passive smoking. Yup, you heard it right. Having a lot of friends who smoked in the past as an alternative to breathing has made me a passive smokaholic. So much so that like a plant searching out sunlight and moving towards it, I position myself in the best advantageous position to get a whiff of smoke.

I have earmarked my weekends for socializing. Till now, I have socialized with Signora Tequila and Mr. Whiskey. Mr. Cut from Wills Navy also made an appearance. I guess there were some homo sapiens around. I also remember shooting off some drunken mails to some of my friends, which would explain the fact that they have not passed me their new mobile numbers yet.

The other day a friend who has a taste in books called up. He almost had a stroke when I told him that I was then reading the tabloid pages of TOI.

However my company, in it's infinite wisdom, decided to save me from the scorn of my intellectually snobbish friends - "What?? So now you may as well as start reading Sidney Shelton and Mills and Boons! What happened to you??" - and send me to the land of sprawling libraries, rabindra sangeet and second hand bookshops.

City of joy, here we are to meet again!

My philosophy - in terms of Matrix

2006-06-04T00:15:00.000-07:00

Neo: "How about I give you the finger... and you give me my phone call." - idea of bargaining

Morpheus: "Time is always against us. Please, take a seat there." - how I approach work

Neo: "I know Kung Fu." - 3 year old cousin
Morpheus: "Show me." - Me

Morpheus: "Don't think you are, know you are" - guiding principle of life

Morpheus: "Come on. Stop trying to hit me and hit me." - to cousins when fighting with them

Cypher (about his drink): "It's good for two things, degreasing engines and killing brain cells." - :)

Agent Smith: "Never send a human to do a machine's job." - about mom's computer skills

Agent Smith: "You are a plague, and we are the cure." - cousins before a nasty fight

Trinity: "No one has ever done anything like this." - project work
Neo: "That's why it's going to work." - ignorance or hope. your choice

Agent Smith: "Why isn't this serum working?" - mom tryin to communicate with me
Agent Brown: "Perhaps we're asking the wrong questions." - dad

Agent Smith: "You're empty." - mom
Neo: "So are you." - me

Agent Smith (hearing the coming subway): "Do you hear that, Mr. Anderson? That is the sound of inevitability." - on a phone ringin during dinner

Niobe: "A strategy is still being formulated." - project work
Morpheus: "I'm sure it is." - yeah, right.

Neo: "Hmm. Upgrades." - about cell phone

Lock: "Goddamnit, Morpheus! Not everyone believes what you believe!" - me
Morpheus: "My beliefs do not require them to." - mom

Lock: "If it were up to me, Captain, you wouldn't set foot on a ship for the rest of your life." - me
Morpheus: "Then I am grateful that it is not up to you." - mom

Cas (to Link about Zee): "You be careful with her, huh?" - mom to me when Im with my little cousin
Zee: "Don't worry about me, he's the one that's gonna get it." - cousin to himself

Morpheus: "Tonight let us shake this cave! Tonight let us tremble these halls of earth, steel, and stone! Let us be heard from red core to black sky. Tonight, let us make them remember. This is Zion! And we are not afraid!" - wetnite!

Bane: "Oh God." -students
Smith: "Smith will suffice." - Fr. Paul

Oracle: "What do all men with power want? More power." - on Kerala ministry division

Neo: "Why are you here?" - me
Oracle: "Same reason. I love candy." -mom

Merovingian: "Who has time? Who has time? But then if we do not ever take time, how can we ever have time?" - Mintu

Merovingian: "I love the French language.... fantastic language, especially to curse with... it's like wiping your arse with silk" - me

Morpheus: "Everything begins with choice." - dad
Merovingian: "No. Wrong. Choice is an illusion, created between those with power, and those without." -mom

Merovingian (about Neo stopping the bullets): "Okay, you have some skill. Kill him." - mom, about me.

Merovingian: "Goddammit woman, you will be the end of me." - dad to mom

Guard 1 (to another dozing guard): "Hey! You count sheep at home." - mom
Guard 2: "Why, I get paid to count 'em here." - union worker

Neo: "Choice, the problem is choice." - me

Architect: "Denial is the most predictable of all human responses." - dad

Merovingian: "You will find I lack the virtues of both tolerance and patience." me and mom

Smith: "I am the Alpha of your Omega. I am the beginning of your end." - corny freak in Orkut.

Au Revoir!

2006-06-04T00:10:00.000-07:00

As I get ready to move from inertness to activity tomorrow, here is a thank you note to all those TV channels and shows which kept me occupied through the better part of two months. Without much ado, here is my honor call:

Reality Shows:

Name: My big fat obnoxious fiancée

Theme: About two people trying to get married. However, unknown to the girl, the guy and his family are all actors hired by the show. She has to get her strict all American parents for the wedding.

Glee time: When the groom’s dad [a hired actor] ostensibly take off his undies when he and his family is in a swimming pool with the girl n groom. Her face! Oh my God… her face!!!

Name: America’s next top model

Theme: A set of model wannabes try to survive through weeks of sass of Tyra Banks.

Glee time: When Tyra & the judges pass their comments on the candidates’ snaps.

Name: Beauty & the Geek

Theme: A set of PYT’s and Mensa members are paired up and have to teach each other social skills n rocket science.

Glee time: When the ugliest guy among the group said about him and his partner: “We have chemistry here. Sparks are gonna fly.” Where is your sense of reality dude???

Name: The Cut

Theme: wannabe fashion gurus vie with each other to suck up to Tommy Hilfiger

Glee time: When they run to get the stuff right.

Name: American Idol

Theme: don’t tell me you don’t know!

Glee time: Whenever Taylor Hicks was on stage.

Serials/Soaps:

Desperate housewives. Yeah! Show them crazy, nasty, dizzy and paranoid!

Friends: Awwwwwww………..

Comedy Inc.: nice show!

PS: Thanks macha, for introducing me to reality shows through Survivor series.

PPS: Bye bye TV. I am gonna miss you. L

PPPS: This thrash post was influenced to a great extent by my fever. Excuse!

Unanswered

2006-06-02T00:48:00.000-07:00

Why do you act and feel like a preschooler when you are with your parents?

Why do your grandparents think of you as a baby in a cradle?

How can you enjoy the rains as much as you want anywhere else in the world, but a 3 minute exposure to the rains at home leave you with viral fever?

How come your grandparents are masteros of passive aggressive behavior?

Is it my moms method of oneupmanship - inviting my parents home so that they would irritate me to the core when I constantly remain nice and smiling towards them - [ instead of shouting matches as I have with my mom ] and end up with a migrane?

How come my aadoptee cat [ he adopted me ]knows the exact time I step outside my flat?

Am I going to turn up like my mom and - horrors of horrors - grand mom? Now I understand why a friend told that you should die before 50. Else, there is a very good chance of getting killed or being the reason for other people's nervous breakdowns.

How come the more closer I am to my departure date, the more closer me and my mom get to each other?

When is my fever gonna end?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

The parting gift from kerala

2006-05-23T10:33:00.000-07:00

The rains are finally here. And they have washed up quite a lot of memories.

Of playing in the puddle, trying to catch the small fishes and tadpoles, ever vary of the watersnakes...

Of being wrapped up in a blanket and listening to the roar of rain at night...

Of prayers demanded, but unheeded...

Of hugging slightly wet doggies and retaining the doggy smell in my clothes all day....

Of waiting for the rain to start, forgetting to even breath and staring at the sky...

Of listening and identifying the roar of the ocean from the chatter of rain sitting in my backyard...

Of climbing down the almost full well when parents are not at home, and taking many impromptu bathes...

Of finding a great river in a nearby stream, and finding an ocean in the nearby pond...

Of watching the coconut trees lash out in agony as the wind laments for the falling drops...

Of books read with the rain as the background...

Of birds nests down and re-errected..

Rain for me, bring the memories of childhood back.

And during a not that long time ago -

Of cycling in the rain to reach home to wait for a phone call...

Of balancing an umbrella in one hand and the assignment in another - and keeping the assignment dry so that some one then special can submit it...

Of realising that it is not to be and crying, and the rain giving me company in a new place...

Of trekking in the hot sun, and suddenly being rejunuvated by the rain...

Of heartbreaks, and each time the rain cries my heart out for me...

Of walking in the rain with friends in the security of a campus with a small area but a large heart...

Of realities, and the sadness that they bring...

But rain consoles me... and substitutes my tears so that my ego remains unshattered.

My Reservations

2006-05-18T04:38:00.000-07:00

One upon a time, not that long ago and not so far away, when I was a kid, we had a servant at our home, called 'Rajani's mom' [ RM from here onwards.] She lived nearby, and had two kids, and the stereotypical, good for nothing husband. She did the jobs in and around the house, and went to the nearby cashew nut factory during day time. My mom and the other elders called her Ramani, but for me, she was always RM.

Now, Rajani and Rati always studied hard. My mom gave them some of the stuff which I never used. Those girls never had any tuition, except for some math and English classes which my mom took for their 10th standard exams. It was expected of them to get a job and do well in life, so they too put in their best.

Finally, Rajani managed to get a good rank in the medical entrance. We naturally expected her to get a medical admission. My mom began to explain the various student loan benefits to her mother. However, after counseling the girl did not make through.

Why?

Because another SC/ST candidate got the seat. Now, the candidate who got through was the daughter of a government office worker couples. She had been having tuitions in the best centers, studying in the best schools and colleges available, having 24x7 electricity and no hand me down clothes or torn books.

Which is less than what Rajani had. Rajani finally took up nursing. We felt bad. Everyone felt bad.

Now whenever I hear about reservations, I think about people like Rajani. Would she have benefited from all the pandemonium? I guess not. Chances are that children of tax evading business men who live a life of luxury and IAS officers will. And unless the government has a spine to bring forth the creamy layer rule [ exemption of economically forward SC/ST/OBC candidates from reservation and counting them as part of the general population ] people like Rajani are not going to benefit from it.

Looking at the other side of the coin, many of my upper caste friends are swearing that they will never go to an OBC/SC/ST doctor now. That they may doubt the merit of a SC/ST/OBC professional now. What if that person just got through reservations, and is an idiot?

The caste lines are being repeatedly defined by our government. Only if it had been done on monetary basis - atleast that line is fluid, not permanent.

F*** the B**en C***ts without brains who thought up this amazing idea.

Painful History

2006-05-15T08:41:00.000-07:00

Today was a painful day in my life. Having gone to the doc to remove a wart underneath my foot, I listened in horrified fascination as the dermatologist explained to me about the cryo-something that he is about to do on my foot. My dad watched me transform from brown to ash to white to yellow as the doc went on explaining, and intervened :

"She is extremely afraid of pain. She tends to pass out when injections are being given."

Mea Culpa. Despite my bravado and penchant in handling slimy creatures, assorted insects, nocturnal beings, dead fish and sea animals, I am extremely uncomfortable with pain. Let me rephrase it. I am so afraid of pain that even the possibility of pain freaks me out. And having a supersized imagination is no help.

However, thanks to the finer needles, for the past three injections, I have not been freaking out. I didn't even pass out. So this time for the cryofreezing [ I remembered the name - yipee!!] I sat on the chair bravely, eventhough it so reminded me of the dentist's chair.

My last encounter with the dentist's chair - for a filler session - had me black out when the doc tried to spray water into my mouth. I was in 2nd year engineering at that time.

This time, I think of my best friend , and keep talking to him in my mind. I always do it now, to prevent me from freaking out or erupting in a violent fit of anger. That boy has the knack of making me keep my cool. I talked to him - in my mind - about my leg, the politics, and the process that the doc is doing. Nothing happened so far. The process is over. I thank the doc, and my friend and god and step out into the reception.

No blood shed, not even a bandage, I'm cool!!!

The next moment, I am giddy, and I sink into the nearby chair. The swooning - to use a Jane Austian term - lasted for five minutes or more. My dad was unfazed at the face of the inevitable, and made me sit there for another half an hour.

The only consolation was that the receptionist thought of me as a highschool student. I walked out of the place before my dad had the chance to tell him that I am a PG owner, but not before he had told him of my swoon history - including the one time in highschool when my BP was being taken.

Desperate Lives

2006-05-11T09:33:00.000-07:00

There is nothing like having a guest from outside to see your state with clarity. Having played host to a fried of mine from the neighboring Tamland, I now sit here, to look back on the visit.

The primary facet of the Mallu psyche which had my friend shocked, disgusted and furious were.... you guessed it, the Mallu men.

Now, I am not a man hater. Neither is she. We both have men as our best friends, and have quite a large collection of male friends. Women are a distinct minority in our friendship circles.

Maybe, that is the reason which led to so much of outrage. Having so many men treat you good has led to a false sense of security, which was abused by strategic revealing of 'mundu' [ a long, skirt type cloth of mallu men which help them from a quick pee to a quick fuck ] to reveal their excitement in seeing us, to invitation to their beds, to abuse, to lewd gestures, to a not so friendly 'hai' 'hello' of total strangers, to men literally putting their head out to ogle at us.

Now, we are no nymphs. We are plain women, who do not merit even a second look outside kerala. But the depressed libodos of the male mallu transformed us to beauties. Oh well.....

However, the desperateness of these guys - whom we christened as DMMs : desperate Mallu Males - also affect us in other ways. Because of them, we are not allowed to go out after 6 pm. A dinner, a trip to the beach, the freedom to wear a short sleeved top than my nightshirt when I venture out home, the freedom to travel in the local bus - all these are debated upon, or outright prohibited by my parents because of the DMMs. I am not blaming them. A father hearing comments like " Heh... you came to guard them eh?? Amazing goods..." in the Kovalam beach will be psyched. Will be afraid. Will be paranoid.

Please do not think that I am bitching about Mallu men. I am not. I am not forgetting those friends who came with me in the middle of the night so that I could attend my first job interview which led to my first job. Those friends who told me about MBA. Those friends who took me around bangalore and showed me the sights of the city. Thise who readily gave me a lift at many places.

I am also bitching about the lady living in the ground floor, who called the guy who lives in the first floor a man of loose morals because he invited a gal pal of his over to his flat - horrors of horrors! - alone. My parents were the only ones who opposed the allegations amongst all the families in the complex- may be because I too have a lot of friends.

Kerala is God's own country, but infiltrated by devils. I hope that the new government teach girls some martial arts and choice abuses in schools to defend themselves from DMMs. desperate and outrageous suggestion, yes, but the situation there is also pretty desperate and filthy.

Talking about the new elections, I am proud of the Mallu electorate. Only those who tended to their constituencies won, leading to the fall of many fiefdoms. How come my state has such heightened political awareness? What is it that make us watch closely and deliver well aimed kicks which topple the thrones of power?

Then I remember: Kerala has more women than men. When men base their allegiance through unions and newspapers, women depend more on the day to day life. Water, good roads, electricity - small stuff, but the goddesses of small things make big things happen.

Again, this is an outrageous claim. But it would be nice if someone does a study on the female influence on the dynamic and comparatively dignified political scene in kerala.

A god book, and a badass author

2006-05-03T02:29:00.000-07:00

Another day, another book review. This time, it is A Million Little Pieces by James Frey. Non-fiction, and not a happy go lucky tale.

Out of the 514 pages, I have reached page 111. Yet, I type away now, just to tell you that it is easily one of the best books that I have read. And trust me, I have read quite a lot. But no other book has shook me as much as this one, no other book had made me envious as much as this one.

This is how, if I could, I want to write a book. Simple sentences. No lyricsm or poetry. Just the account of every moment, and every feeling. And a clinical objectivity which in its very presence make your throat go dry.

If you suspect that a friend or relative of you may turn out to be an alcohol or drug addict, I suggest that you buy this book for them. If you think that a friend or relative is having a hard time, then I suggest that you buy this book for them. This is the best inspirational book, ever.

And far from the ordinary self help quakery that you find. It celebrates, unintentionally, the dark sprit of human arrogance, the feeling which make us make that one etra step when the world expect us to fall down; and another , and another till we somehow climb out of the abyss.

I suggest you buy this book anyways. Chances are, you are not going to regret it.

NB: I promise that when I finish the book and if my opinion reverse, I will post the revised review here. If this post is not contradicted, then it means that the book is dark rich black chocolate.

Indulge.

***********May 3rd, 2006******************************

That said, as per my promise, I suggest you click on the links given here. But I am a fan of creativity, even in its shittiest form, even if it sticks a knife in me and kicks me to death.

http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0104061jamesfrey1.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Million_Little_Pieces

So let us all hear it for Frey, the guru of all copycats. I am not disappointed as the book is a good read, and given that such books sell more, its no wonder the author portrayed him as a victim. However, I am no moral angel. I care only for my pleasure, and if your lie provides me with a hightened sense of awareness, what harm in it for me?

Kavya, atleast lie like this guy does!

Of you, you and you out there...

2006-04-27T05:05:00.000-07:00

Writing testimonials to friends is not exactly a soulsearching moment.
However, when you have nothing better to do at home and think about testimonials, then they begin to make sense.

Actually, it is ridiculously easy. Use a few positive adjectives, add a few smileys, and it can be done. However, when you really want to write something meaningful and publicly viewable, then you sit and start to remember.

Remembering a friend is like looking into yourself. For we become friends with what we are or what we would like to become. We like vicariously through our friends, taking pride in their achievements and indulging their quirks. We remember ordinary times made special by friends and remember more about our life.

Different friends... Some who act as your partners in crime, some who babysit you, and some who are your secret keepers. And as time passes by, each of these roles change - you babysit your secretkeeper, have fun with your babysitters, and keep the secrets of your partners in crime.

In friendship, we discover our soulmates. And we discover ourselves. We make and breaks rules of affection for our friends. We take it for granted that we can look a bit shabbier and crazier in front of them, and are not offended when they act likewise.

Tokens - of calling up at random hours just to talk and provide some company when you are bored, replying to missed calls and foul smses, a yahoo discussion on the societal fabric while plotting to twist a future co-worker into our personal teaboy, promises of journeys to be made together, pity parties and remember when...? Series, times when you both talk simultaneously without stopping for even a breath of air but somehow end up absorbing all information shared, mails which warm your hearts from people whom you seldom meet or have never met, comments left on blogs and webpages - not just 'i friendship make with you' ' you be frank and my friend' type generic stuff, but beyond that, sensing some part of me beyond the web and the webpage...

God knew we could never be perfect. So he made us have friends so that we would feel perfect.

Books, Reviews and Food

2006-04-23T05:48:00.000-07:00

Just finished reading two books : How Opal Mehta… and Manticore’s Secret.

HOM is written by an 18 year old, studying in Harvard. It is about a girl's attempts to get into the Harvard University.

Now for the bad news.

I will live in the eternal guilt that I chose this book for a friend to spend good money on. I should have given him the name of some 20 teen flicks which the same oft-repeated beginnings, endings and everything in between.

The book is about an Indian’s quest to get a life outside her ‘Harvard-aya Namahah’ life style which is also happens to be her - why am I not surprised here? - her parents dream. As the dean asks her to essentially get a life, she tries out the usual stuff –get a makeover, try to get into the hot but emptyheaded bitch-slut trio gang, ignore her real [ read : brainy and drab ] friends, try falling for the school president [ but fall for the rebel ], solve a physics problem with her friends, get to like Harvard, get her plans outed by the bitchgang and finally get into Harvard. And in the process, the author manages to fit each and every teen movie cliché into the book.

A strong sense of de ja vu is to be expected. The sad part, however, was that the book could have been better. But here, the author disappoints us. The characters are one dimensional, there is nothing unpredictable about it, you can predict what is going to happen and when. It would have been better if the author showed some spunk and wrote something against the flow. Before she start on her next work, I suggest she read Five Point Someone. Back to back and a few many times. This is also a book about students, but within 100 odd pages and 2/5^th the price, it is a much more rewarding experience for the reader.

The author has got a movie deal. And here is the next chick flick , my brethren. The girl can describe things well. But she has got a long long way to go before she write something which I will recommend to my friends, ie; unless they are like, totally airheads.

Stay away from this one, fellas. And may this good deed book me a place in heaven.

______________________________________________

The Manticore’s Secret is worth a read, and worth a buy. But at Rs 300/- I would rather ask a friend to buy it as a gift for me than spend on it myself. The second part of Simoquin Prophecies go forth with wit to spare, though I preferred the first part better. The second book digresses into philosophical questions, subtle (or) hints at the futility of humans while the first one took an irreverent look at hero+quest stories.

_____________________________________________

My third review is about food. All those amongst you who are bonafide non-veggies and happen to be in Trivandrum, go to the East Gate of the Padmanabha Swamy Temple. Walk in a straight line into the Chaala Bazzar, into the market. Once you are somewhere in the vicinity of the Mosque, [ but before that ] take a left turn, or ask for Rahmaniya. And here my friend, you have entered Paradise.

Let us go back a bit. Legend was that Kettal, a nice cute Moplah [ Mallu Moslem ] had his shop, where the norm was that you pay a little, but eat a lot. Kettal the benevolent supervised the patrons, and did not hesitate to tick off those whom he suspected were maintaining diets. Once you sit down, you have to eat till you could eat no more.

Times have changed. The food is not unlimited. You get 6 chappatis and eight pieces of chicken [ legs, breast or wings ] along with a glass of nimbu paani and lemon pickle. Whatever you ask more is charged separately. The food is hot and tasty, and fresh. The Cheep-cheep of the chickens could be heard, and I studiously ignored it. Food, is divine.

Try it traveler, and then thank me for a wonderful experience.

Chased by the Monsoon

2006-04-21T04:22:00.001-07:00

The rain is a mixed blessing.

It came when I first thought of going to the beaches. It has been years since I had been to the seaside, and I wanted to reconnect with that wise lady. But the rain, ever the precocious kid, came in a tantrum and irked her, and now, she would be in too much of a bad mood for a visit.

I did not care much for the rain. Look what you have done now! I admonished with frosty silence. The rain didn't care. She came in a mad frenzy through the nights and chilled me to the core. She even irked the wind, who in a furious swipe of hand tugged at the powerlines and cut the electricity.

" Not fair." I muttered. " Swipe her away. Why deny light to me?"

Another day. Another noon. A friend promised food, and more importantly, company. I left home at noon. After dessert from one place, we walked off to another place for the maincourse. Chicken, with Patthiri as side dish. We had food and talk, and was content.

Outside, like a stealthy kid, rain began her naughty dance. "Shall we walk in the rain? " my friend ventured. " Ofcourse." Said I, and we walked along as if we were enjoying a sunny evening walk. Three book stores later, we were drenched and happy, and certified lunatics by the TVM society.

Back home. As on cue, the rain stops. As suddenly as she has started. But I am not angry. The coolness of rain - much cooler than the tap water which I use for bathing - has lulled me, like the unexpected kiss of an errant child, it has softened me.

"Monsoon.." I whisper " Are you here? "

But the rain has tiptoed away.

Chased by the Monsoon

2006-04-21T04:22:00.000-07:00

But the rain has tiptoed away.

Fight Club

2006-04-17T23:07:00.000-07:00

Pavlo Cohelo once wrote in Alchemist that if you so want something to happen, then the world eventually conspires to get it done for you.

I am a great believer of those words. Indeed, I really desire for very few things, but those which I wanted with my heart n soul, I always got it. Not by means of hard toil, but by means of sitting pretty and doing nothing. The same is true for my mother too, but to a lesser extent. Make the two of us angry, really angry and give us jut cause to be angry, and bad stuff happen to you. I'm not psyching you out, but taking stock of stuff which has happened to people and things had brought in this conclusion. The only constraints are that :

1. I have to be really angry at you / want something very badly
2. It has to be entirely your fault / I should have tried as much as I can and failed
3. I now do no act of vengeance myself / I still keep it in my mind and cut back on my quest to earn it; essentially, I'm just 'being there.'

Anyways, back to the battlefield called Mallu extended family, which consists of family, relatives, friends of relatives and well wishers; thus encompassing the entire resident mallu populace. Too lazy to write a long piece; so here come some snippets:

Snippet #1:
One the phone, with a cousin. Actually, her kids are closer to age to me than her. She asks me about my life, and then suddenly " How is your health?"

" I am fine. And I was never sick or ill, so why do you ask??" I enquired with thinly veiled annoyance.

" Oh, well, you will need to wear a sari soon.. " She droned on, blissfully impervious to my attempted rudeness.

Snippet #2:
An old friend's wedding. I go there, and come across a collegemate. Rather than old friendship, it is the new feeling of ' where are all the people whom we know ' that binds us. We start talking. She has put on weight, but I smoothly lie and tell that she looks good. She, on the other hand, might have been totally discomfited by my colored hair, short kurthi and tight jeans, but lies equally flawlessly.

" Where will you work? "

I mentioned the company.

"And what is the salary?"

I mentioned it too.

" Well, I am asking all this so that I can tell when people ask what my MBA friend is earning. " She explained.

Now, why do people act like Income Tax officers and question your salary?

Snippet #3:
Me and my mother visit the opticians. I need new glasses. The power has increased, and I am on my way to greater myopic glory. I mention the Lasik procedure to my mom. She denies it flat out, somewhat the sameway I deny the many men my mom deems fit for me to marry.

"But why?"

She, taking a page from my book, decided to project silent hostility.

" You apparently have enough to get me married, but not to have a simple surgery done? " I asked.

World War III is going on fine at the Witch household.

By the river Sowparnika, I sat and Prayed

2006-04-13T06:16:00.000-07:00

Namesake, for you to find freedom from her memories, to love and be loved again; past to ashes and future perfect...

Sister, for you two to have all the happiness you deserve and your parents to have good sense...

Frog and the princess, for you two to create what was left unmade...

Northie friend and bonafideSouthie [regards to food and damsels especially], of you to be reunited with that piece of your heart with is with a girl from the same land as I am...

And I too begged, for now I need a miracle. I have burned the boats so to speak, and now you need to row over to my island. Though I do not think that you will.

But when we lose all hope and reality mocks us, then faith is the only mirage left, and we cling to it with an intensity unknown.

May I attain Fannah. May I not hurt anyone else. May I learn to walk alone and court pain.

For I have realized that unlike education, possessions and money; there are some things in life which you do need - like a vocation, a quest, a dedication.

And may be, this too shall pass, but then, I too would have passed away by then. This is not something really great or earth shattering; it can only shatter me.

Peace to you, and for everyone in your life.

Farewell to Arms??? Naaa...

2006-04-07T01:27:00.000-07:00

Multi tasking is channel surfing when eating chocolates and trying to translate the process into words - a.k.a; what I am doing right now.

Back South. South started when there were an abundance of mustaches. And the huge din in Chennai welcomed me back. With the scent of jasmine wafting from nowhere, the eye scorching colors of expensive kaanjeevaram saris , the exorbitant rates of the railway porters and the cheap but divine south indian food - it all welcomed the two of us back to South.

Kerala was another shock. It was green and more green everywhere, with the cashia fistulas going all yellow with no trace of green. We peek out of the door at a railway station; our streaked hair seems to send out the signal that we are fast and loose : men ogle, pass comments, and give us a once over with their eyes. For the time being, we are being classified as public property.

"Mayire... @!~&%$#Mon.. " My fellow traveler enunciates the choicest gaalis in purr-fect Malayalam. I do an English translation; if not in content, atleast in sprit. Suddenly, the men are busy, and no more snide remarks or greetings come our way.

Home. it looks smaller, especially after I had unpacked and spread the contents all over the floor. My mom looks with curiosity at the XL size jacket that I have taken with me. " A friend gave it to me.My best friend.Actually, I asked him for it." I explains.

My mom goes in for the kill. Rather, the Yearbook. I point out my close friends, the people with whom I hang out with and the ones which made a difference to my two years there. I am being closely questioned as to why I didn't write for this or that Mallu, or vice versa. WW3 to start? Nope. Remembering the Collective Bargaining classes, I see my mom as a particularly stubborn Union Leader and diverts the crisis.

But just when I had relaxed a bit...

"Who is Mintu?* "
"Friend ma."
" The one whose coat you got here? "
"yup. "
"Who is Gay?"

You asshole from Asansole, how I wanted to kick you!

Cut to next day. I take over the kitchen to fry fish, and my mom accosts me there. " Tell me dear. Do you have someone in your mind? Or can we go forth with the other guy? "

" Ma, I will marry when I find the guy to whom I want to get married to. Not before that. Not to anyone else."

"Even if you are 60? "

"No. Even if I am 90."

"Are you..? " my mom's face ashen.

" Oh for Chrissake ma! I'm not a lesbian!" See, for all the times I called you a homo, now I was branded as one by my own parents. Talk about divine humor....

So thus I sit here, footloose and fancy free.

* Name substituted by pet name.

stop gap post

2006-04-03T09:59:00.000-07:00

So how do I feel on the lst night ar XL? I miss my friends - or rather, my best friend. he was my secret keeper and personal diary; i used to tell him all the highs and lows of the sitcom called my life and my umpteen crushes... More than the fact that he has left XL, what irks me is the no outgoing calls clause in my cell phone...

I wont be missing my friends, as i usually keep in touch with them... but i will miss the huge raucous group, the arbit conversations and the verbal duals that i had with a bunch of good friends... from many-to-many to one-to-one or one-to-many -- it sucks. :(

I also would be missing the dogs here... never was a mongrel lover before - was afraid of them and only petted pedigreed pooches before coming to XL. However, these dogs with clairvoyant powers somehow wormed their way into my heart. they know when you need them, they are always there for you, and they forgive you if you are mean to them.

I will also miss the freedom I had here. the late nights, the flix screenings, the daaru sessions... i will also miss gh4 [ gh1, 1st floor ] the place where my best friends amongst my batchmates and seniors invariably end up... the place which I claimed as my own.

hittin road 2mrw early mornin.. hope to reach home by 6th or 7th. takin fijord capra n salman rushdie for company... hope their XL-ed daughter doesn't shock my parents too much :)

The Colored Version

2006-03-24T10:42:00.000-08:00

At times of adversity, human beings react differently. Some try to accept their fate. Some try to fight it. Some others turn it into a better situation than what could have been.

I, chose to color my hair.

Not that it was a knee jerk reaction. I had been toying with the idea for quite sometime. After Chinnu* went and colored hers, it was only a matter of time. Besides, it was part of my new year resolution to do the deed after getting a job. Having a fellow mallu with the most garish hair color is sure to deflect whatever criticism my parents were wont to make when I reach home.

However, the conversion of Chinnu's respectable black to traffic stopping red had me twirling my hair again. What if

(a) I ended looking silly?
(b) Either of my parents got a heart attack? [ case in point : when I left home in 2003 for my job and subsequent MBA, I had waist-long, black, curly hair. Now only the curl remains. ]

And most importantly, how will the campus react?

I like to believe that I have a modicum of fashion sense. People have commented positively throughout my two years here on my attire and accessories. Should I leave XL as the girl who had a major fashion fiasco? I strategically delayed the exercising of my options.

ie; till I came to know that my Delhi trip is under heavy weather. Still on the waiting list, and the line is not moving forward. To top all this, my fellow eater CD - what else do you call a guy with whom you really have not interacted much but now has been sharing lunch and dinner with you for the past two weeks? Friend is too generic - is going home and has asked me not to sit and brood, but enjoy my time here.

Hence, I decided to get out to the town. And got myself CDs [ stop smirking, you monkey... I was not talkin abt ya :) ]. The nearby beauty parlor beckoned. I went inside, got myself ready for the Delhi trip and 15 minutes later, was about to leave. And then I noticed the poster; of a lady with jet black hair streaked with purple.

Many be it was the heat. Or the fact that I did not eat any food till 4 pm. Whatever, I decided to get the purple streaks. "We don't have that color.. " said one. " But we have these.. " said the more enterprising of them, and thrust into my hands a huge catalogue of beautiful women with different colors.

I picked one.

" This is for people trying to hide their greys." one of them told me snidely.

" What about this? Or this or this? " I asked the ladies.

"Too light. Go for something bold for the streaks. " they looked down their noses.

I took a sharp detour from what supposedly colored Chinnu's hair and picked a much more sober looking color.

After painting the hair and putting aluminum foil around the painted hair, I was asked to wait for 40 minutes. I looked like I was having the aluminum foil wrapped kit-kat wafers attached to my hair. Worse, I was looking like I was getting ready for a fashion show with all that wierdstuff on my head. A kid took one look at me and started bawling. Not - a - good - experience.

40 minutes , 2 Stardust and one Femina later, I was called to the chair. My hair was washed and dried, and withholding comment, I was led to my tryst with the mirror.

I looked like Jean Grey. The X-Men gal with psi abilities. I decided to eschew the facial and other works as I was sure that even if I had walked in naked, everyone in Delhi would be looking at my hair. It was the same color as Chinnu's, and looking spread over a wider area.

"How long will the color stay?" I asked.

" If you use L'oreal's shampoo, it will last longer. Here, I have it.." the enterprising one trust me a teeny shampoo bottle with a ridiculous price.

But having just made a resolution not to use anything which will prolong the blunder, I didn't even look at it, just nodded no. Then, taking several deep breaths, I left the sanctuary of the beauty parlor into the mad, bad world. Square the shoulders, look at the people as if you own them, and turn on your "If you as much look at me, I am gonna kill you " eyes. I jumped into the nearest auto and reached XL.

A bunch of my batchmates and juniors were standing some distance away. Under normal circumstances, I should have went over and chatted. But not now. I just wanted to get inside and lock myself in my room.Delhi be damned. I am not getting out of my room!

Then my fashionista friend, my fashion consultant - we MBAs don't use the word guru; we just consult - met me. " You colored your hair? And Chinnu's same color? It actually looks nice on you! " She blurted out at one go.

Oh thank you God... Thank you!

" Well... " I flipped my hair back casually, " I wanted to go for purple or electric blue. But they didn't have it there. "

We do not lie. We just selectively suppress the truth.

*name has been changed to protect author's health and enhance her safety from the mentioned.

I wish I'd know how to quit you.

2006-03-21T08:49:00.000-08:00

Came back from the enemylines, and miss that place.

If not for the mutual hatred between me and Mathematics, i would have belonged to there. I would have sat there on the lake-shore, watching the sun and the moon being reflected in the water, all in a world to myself, with maybe a cat on my lap and my hands encircling a dog.

May be I should not think about that place with such fondness. Wherein lies your loyalties? - my clansprit admonishes me. But if I like all things XL, then I should like all things IIMC too, for they are the yang to our ying - similar, with parallel outlooks and attitudes. So much so that it prompted my IIMC friend to pitch for me joining XL - in case I didn't get into A, B or C [ Maths saw to it that I didn't.].

Ancient wisdom has it that the average XL-IIMC encounters of the close proximity kind either ends up in (1) Bitter rivalry (2) Great friendships (3) Enduring marriages. Surprised? Well, don't be. A relationship which started after the parties involved abused each other with the choicest words can only go better. And the many marriages that had happened down the ages stand testimony to that hypothesis.

But none of that matters now. Whichever place offering solitude and select human company appeals to the loner in me, to the person that I am fast turning into. The campus was green. Not the artificial greenery of genteel sophistication, but the natural, melancholic green. I would definitely wont mind teaching there someday, as then it would mean going back to that campus.

Met a few people there. Some are friends. Some were acquaintances. Some are to be my future colleagues.

Went around Calcutta. The city about which I had read the most. And it did live up to my expectations. I felt at home there, a sense of happy deja vu covering me up in a safety blanket. Loved the colors, the hustle and bustle of the city, the old buildings and even the Bengali script which is so artistic.

It was not fun being there. I am past the stage when I want fun. I want peace of mind, tranquility and a sense of being alive. and these I did get in that trip - thanks to you [ and you know who you are!] .

My ideal campus building belongs to my Summer's Home - IIMB. Built by a person with a child's intuition for all things magical, it was a veritable Hogwarts. But then what is Hogwarts without the lakes? That building, with its stone walls and creepers which form natural curtains, should have been set on the shores of the five lakes. And it would be the magical nook within my mind, where I will watch innumerable sunrises, with Doink and Chatrapati for company.

Campus seemed very small and noisy after the lakes. I want to go back, just sit on the lakeside, just sit at the balcony watching the subtle change of time with a good book and some great music. And maybe have some of that divine parathas.

XL, forgive me for my transgression, for I know I have sinned, in giving a piece of my heart to the 5 lakes.

ROI Musings...

2006-03-18T02:42:00.000-08:00

One of the rituals on getting a job is to call up your relatives and inform them that you finally got some ROI on your investment for two years.

Those of you who may do so in the future; a word of caution: celebrate first, then call. Especially if you are the pioneer MBA in your imediate family. Otherwise, you may not be left with anything much to celebrate about.

Parents are most effective when it comes to curbing enthusiasm. They can spot the flaw in our perfectly happy scenario in a nanosecond. Moreover, all of use do crave at some level to 'do our parents proud' and their strategic silences, the drawled out "weeeeeeeeeeeeeeelll..." with a touch of disappointment do deliver karate chops to our self esteem and glee.

They are the best cooks of put-you-downs.

An average B-School student from any of the top ten B Schools in India will agree to this, especially if they have just been placed. Any salary that we earn, is disappointingly less. It doesnot matter if you earn 8 or 10 or even 12 l.p.a, it is always about " Only this much..?" with a quote on how much the average salary of this or that B School the current year is.

It is during times like these that you feel like collecting all the media cell members - current, future and past - of the diferent BSchools and slowly fry them over hell's everlasting fires.

Placement times are times of oneupmanship. Given the tacit understanding of when each college - oops, School ; for some reason, MBAs study in B-'Schools' and 30 something men in Indian cricket team are 'boys' - is supposed to start it's placement, the college that get it's process over first may be highly tempted to inflate the salary figures and job details with an eye on the B School Rankings. And temptation is easy to fall for; leading to inflated salary figures.

The underground network of B Schools perk up and snigger knowledgably - in seeing the difference between the actual and the trumpeted. And the domino effect starts - for each B School is in the run to consolidate and upgrade their rankings - and this leads to inflations and 'selective dissemination of information' all around. But you cannot blame us - yup, even I belong to the to be' fried in hell fire ' group - entirely. The press, always on the lookout for sensationalism in even everyday events, forget to ask the right, probing questions and happily sing "Gloy to Thee" to the press release.

And what with inflation and all, the figures will be inflated again next year.

Now some personal info :

Thankfully, for the past two years, I didnot have to inflate. Our placecom Secy and faculty coordinator decided to give out the real figures for the Summer and Final placements. [ Bless you guys!] Our average [ with the normal definition of statistical average being applied to the term ] is slightly below my annual CTC. Hence after one week and 5 irate phone conversations, and a copy of the press release being mailed to my parents with the phone number of our Placecom Prof appended [ sorry sir! :"> ] so that they could check the information from the source, I was able to convince my parents that I did well, by all counts.

But I do wonder at times if it is more because of our slightly different positioning [HR-centric] in the minds of the people.Would we have held to our horses if we had been into general management, and not run by Jesuit Priests??

I would rather not think about it.

Gift wrapped from up there

2006-03-16T02:58:00.000-08:00

"How did you celebrate your day?" my friend asked me, thousands of miles away.

I 'Humph!'ed.

"That bad? How many presents?"

"None. None at all. And they didn't even wish." I said morosely.

The they here are particularly three people. One didn't bother to wish, another altogether disappeared, preferring to sleep late to playing Holi, and the the third, whom I woke up after sustained nagging cut to the chase : " Where are you giving your birthday treat?"

Definitely not one of the better days.

Not that the entire world totally forgot about it. People DID wish me. They called up from assorted continents. And on knowing that I didn't get any gifts [ or bumps ] promised both when I reach home.

But... but.. .they didn't. And that irked, hurt, and bugged. Did I waste my time spending with them? Worse, was I imposing myself on them? Was this their subtle way of telling me that I was being a royal pain?

"We are going to CCD." I declare, in a voice that dares anyone to voice any opposition.

"CCD? What about dinner..? " A wailing reaches out to me through the phone.

" When did you even wish me? And it is my birthday, so I should buy myself a piece of cake - not that anyone remembered to get me one." I wail back with equal fervor. I win this round.

At the cafe, they try to get the six pieces at a huge plate, so that it would look like a cake. Sheepish "Happy Birthday"s are offered, and accepted. I'm enjoying their company, and thawing.

The cakes arrive. Each piece in a small plate, serially, one after the other. I giggle at seeing their last minute attempts go kaput. They sing the birthday song raucously, raising quite a few eyebrows from the post holi crowd. The cafe is practically empty, no food. I think of going back to XL - I am too much high strung to ask them if I could tag along.

" Are you having dinner?" "Come with us." After saying our goodbyes to V, we leave the cafe. I am caught up n the moment, we all walking along, one of our last meals together as students of XL.

The lone veggie suggests an exclusively veg place. I grimace; it is a reflex reaction against anything vegetarian. A smiles on seeing my face, and suggests a non veg place. We roam around the town, checking this place and the other, cracking jokes at each others expense, and sharing gossip. [ For all you skeptics out there : men do gossip, and gossip well they do! ]. Finally, food. As we squeeze into a table and dig into our food, I was suddenly stuck by a revelation: my friends, are not going to change. Ever. They will never buy me a birthday card, or think up great surprises to make my day special. They will point out good stuff on shop windows and then tell me that they have no cash to buy it. They will make me go Dutch on food, most of it I end up making them eat. No matter what maveric executives they are going to be, for me, they are always the gang of socially clueless chaps who don't have the foggiest idea on how to treat a girl on her birthday.

But then, these are the same guys who told me to hit back at any twerp who might have dared to take liberties with me - and just drop a hint to them so that they can take over from there. They are the ones who always keep their rooms open - for me to just sit and watch countless episodes of sitcoms or to bemoan the cruel blows that life had dealt me. They are the ones who tell me what I need to, not want to, hear. Those whom I can wake up any day and tell anything - and I mean anything - and it will stay within them. The ones who scoff at the idea that just being in different cities is going to affect our friendships. They will not make my birthday any special, but the times spent with them make ordinary days feel like birthdays.

On our way back, I got an sms from my friend in SA. " How did your day go? Enjoying yourself? " She asked me.

"Went well. And yes, I am!" I smsed back, wedged between two of them in a rickety auto.

And surprisingly, it was the truth.

2006-03-11T21:05:00.000-08:00

kind of taking it easy and unwinding...
shadow man, will reply to you soon.
sleep, books, chocolates, movies, music and computer games.. life is one long hedonistic pleasure!

Removal of a Post

2006-03-08T06:10:00.000-08:00

I had to remove one of my better written posts. It was based on something that has happened to my friend, and she did not want me to blog about it.

Save it perpetually as a draft... for me to remember, and not to forget the feeling.

--Me.

I am an MBA...

2006-02-28T20:33:00.000-08:00

“Don't go.. stay… “ You told her, hugging her tight, holding on.. not wanting her to go. You have come a long way, R and you, 24 months to be precise.

And now, she is leaving.

It’s crazy, how you get close to a concept just like that. How your language subtly change, how new words and phrases creep up into your language, how your accent smoothly changes from one to another. And how, when you idly go through photographs BM [before MBA ] you realize how much you have changed, and how that old girl is totally unfamiliar to you.

She for once, would not have danced with such [albeit alcohol induced] gusto. For that matter, you remember her viewing alcohol as hell’s expressway portal. Anything beyond handholding with a guy positively scandalizing. And how her world was so sharp, and monochromatic, with no blurs between good and bad, or right and wrong. How she oiled and combed her waist long hair to keep it long as befitting a proper Mallu. And how she looked beyond her age and was so sure of what this life was all about.

You take your eye off the picture and look in the mirror. The person who stares back with a triumphant glint has short cropped hair, which haven’t seen oil for one year. She has become all that was tantalizingly evil in her undergraduate days in a Mallu college with more student imposed restrictions than the official ones. And how she actually looks younger to those days.

But beyond the physical transformation, she has changed. More upfront. More individualistic. More aware of her follies and weaknesses. More forgiving – to others and importantly, to herself. More sad and more unsure of where the lines are and if there are any lines there in the first place. And being aware that colours fade and brighten and change everyday, sometime white is beyond redemption than black, and that you are more in control than you think.

This is the last day of your life as it was here. Already, bits and pieces of this puzzle are leaving, to comeback later. Suddenly the boring puzzle gets interesting. Friendships are forged by the minute, which makes you grieve not taking that first step months ago. When career choices are made, it is also about who all will be in which all cities and how easy it would be to reach out once a while. Already, family ceremonies are an excuse to just forge your relationships and take trips together – to the future down the memory lane. You do not want to allow this moment to flow, just want to freeze it and preserve the relationships you have here.

You look back at the final choices. And you never regret any of them. Most have been a ‘ I do what I feel' process. But jealousy over more money and more perks you can stand and overcome. Feeling lost and frustrated is what you never want to feel again.

Money in a B School, especially during the placement season, is like some highly addictive drug. You only need a tantalizing glimpse of the heaven and you are hooked. Suddenly, you no longer care much about what they want you to do and how they want you to be. You do not mind wearing light colors and speaking in clipped tones, or ruling over a fiefdom, paying tributes to your next in command. Suddenly, it is about money and more money.

And also about friends. You realize that they have their own life, and their choices to make. A company which has taken V and S are not really that bad, right? Then you come across the bore machine from the company, and realize that it just not all to V and S. They can drown the droning of the bore, you cannot. They can go on and on with work, you don’t want to. So much to see, so much to experience – and write about – and hence you walk back. You peg a company high because P is going there, and well... for all his lazy bum life, you respect his choices - respect it so much that when you are not shortlisted, you actually heave a sigh of relief and thank God for the non selection.

Then A comes calling, with the perfect pitch and a perfect salary. You want to apply, and you know that even though the application date is over, A would accept you into the bottle with a small smile and big heart. But then, the Ghost of Ideas Past appear before you, and asks you some uncomfortable questions. Do you want to do this? Suck the water out of a place which you totally belong to? You hesitate again. Anyways, A is always there, the moment your value systems change, you can always drop him a hint.

But now, this moment, you are content to make your decisions based on dumb luck, and 'choose an even or odd number' games with your junior friends do decide which company to choose - and stick to it. Sorry to shock you S, but in the world out there, sometimes only silliness makes sense.

The not-so hidden language of Sex....

2006-02-24T10:33:00.000-08:00

Online communities have a language of their own, especially when it comes to soliciting sex. It takes the form of seeking friendship to blatant porno sites. If you are a girl in any of the Orkut/yahoo/rediff/Ryze communities; chances are; you know what I am talking about. If not, let me refresh your memory.

Hi... wanna be friends with me? "

The most used and abused sentence online. Not that I don’t like it : many of my online friendships started that way. But potentially dangerous as may lead to a variant of the following phase.

"Are you free and frank? " : I do not know why, but the moment a guy who Ive never known in my life ask me this question 2 minutes into a conversation, I delete him from my friends list and block him. Got good reason to : one guy who used this line on me eventually starting abusing left and right. Thanks to educational events like XL-IIMC and living at a space where fuck is not a swearword, I had my revenge then and there.

And there are the IDs. Some are brutally frank. An ID like “stylish fucker” doesnot leave any doubt about your intentions and gives one the freedom to just block it out of existence. Some are subtle. But when you do reach their page, you find only gals as friends, and the scraps are all variants of either “excuse me? Do we know each other? “ or high level flirting.

One real life example, the call for friendship lead to this. This was the only thing posted on his homepage – with a list of all – and only – his gal pals.

Entry for February 23, 2006

I'm an young (only 39!) Indian (from Gods Own Country) now in Mumbai, average built, fun loving male working at senior management level.

I'm very outgoing and easy to chat up. I love to make ya happy and delighted to the core. Love peace and spread happiness!

I love food, am quite a foodie and can take ya to the best places to dine and wine. Music, movies, theatre, cooking, trekking, traveling and adventure sports are a few things that I love to do in my spare time. Am quite good at a massage if you wish! [ for those wet behind the year ‘uns, Massage parlors are euphemisms for sex parlors in some circles ]

I have short black hair (crew cut), black eyes, thick mustache and wheatish complexion.

So if you are a LADY[ so our dude is definitely male ] looking for some gr8 company and a memorable time, please mail me your details

Care to meetup and befriend me lady? You wont regret it…hi there.....am 39 single male in mumbai here ......am not into cyber ....am looking to meetup..... am fun loving and very easy going by nature[ translates to promiscuous nature ]...... no involved relationships -dont believe in it.... [ means wham bam and get the hell outta my life ]. if you need to spend some good time with a friend [ want sex ]call me..... am on YM too id is ****** if you wish to chatup and take this forward, am looking forward to….

Bold enough to watch BOLD???

2006-02-21T13:52:00.000-08:00

One of the vices of overabundance of LAN bandwidth coupled with lots of free time on hand is downloading and watching movies which prove Murphy's Law : If anything can be make in a chickenshit manner, it would be.

Thankfully, divine providence intervened and I could copy only one part of the movie. Nevertheless, I began my close encounter with the shitty kind.

Woman being chased by goons - Bachao.... Bachao...

The only doubt remains as to whether she needs to be rescued from her garish clothes or the men running after her in a quarter hearted manner. Guess it was the first choice, as she is rounded by the men - Kya saamaan hai - and is being lightened of her burden.

Enter our heroine She rips off her [ own ] shirt, revealing a black push up bra. Never really figured out whether that itsy bitsy black thingie she was wearing beneath her belly button was her inner or outer wear. After sermons, we cut to the next scene:

Heroine in swimming pool. Villain and comic sidekick lust after her and offers her flowers and lifetime membership in the club due to her figure. [ Now that is what I call frankness] . She acts offended, and prances out.

Scene:

Drunken heroine being rescued by hero - Kahan Bhaag ra ha hain Saalon??? - and taken to his home. Hero sleeps on the couch - get it? He is pure of heart and harbor no lustful thoughts. Why? Because he IS the hero.

Heroine is ready in the morning with her eyelids looking like cakes of mascara. Hero's sidekick is also a comic. Villain snubbed by heroine. Hero and heroine gets married. After two - say it with me people, TWO - meetings. At an age when even long term relationships do not culminate in marriage, am I the only skeptical one here? Villain - the rich man obviously, our hero is his employee guys!

Thankfully, I had copied only till now. But the question of a climax remains. So I ask, is there anyone who was bold enough to watch BOLD?

Just good friends...

2006-02-18T12:44:00.000-08:00

One thing which always strike you is the number of 'good friends' around. They are always there for each other, complimenting and supporting the other person. They move around together, they bloom in the others presence. They understand each other like none can, and the chemistry that they share between them is awesome. They can tell each other anything, and their transgressions are forgiven, and most importantly, understood.

why then, are they not in a relationship?

If a relationship is supposed to provide love and support, which many of these relationships do, then what is preventing them from being a couple?

Asked around, and got some answers. Who am I to judge them? I grieve for those unborn relationships, that great love lost which could have made the world a much more happier place.

These, are the tombstones of those aborted loves.

"A relationship complicates things. Expectations are high, and it leads to petty quarrels and breakups. I cannot bear to loose her from my life like that. As a friend, I am always there."

"Look at me... and look at him... We two are entirely different... he will never like a woman who looks like me..."

"I would always love him... and will always have a soft corner for him... But do you know how much of an MCP he is? "

"A relationship? Pagal hai kya? He is of a different cast!"

"She is elder to me... My parents wont allow... "

"I am not an immoral person... I wont cheat on my boyfriend... "

"My girlfriend helped me a lot in college... eventhough I have changed, it is not fair to dump her now... I have to hold on... "

"First I had a boyfriend.. and he proposed and I said no... Now he has a girlfriend... and I am single. But.... "

Stranger, with me, do shed a perfect tear on this cemetery.

Oh, by the way...

2006-02-13T12:31:00.000-08:00

How do you tell people that you broke up? Or about such potentially TNTic stuff which is actually your pvt life, but which will nevertheless affect your dynamics with those around you?

13th Feb, 12:05 AM, Classroom. My cell phone vibrates to herald a sms. I grab it as the last chance to win my battle with sleep. A friend has wished me a great Valentines Day with my loved one. I smsed back, saying there is no relationship anymore, I'm single and happy, and in a class and sleepy.

Regarding this episode, I generally do it like this:

Me: Hi!
Friend : Hi!
Me : Oh, btw, me and AA broke up!
F: Awwww... why?
Me : We are too different for each other [ insert ur big fake smile here, as if taking the decision to break up was the best thing you have ever did ]
F : Are you ok?
Me : Yes. [ repeat the smile ]

The conversation is the only way in which my galpals will stop asking me about how things are going between us, and junta will stop telling me where he is at the precise time I meet them. I often reply with a 'Oh' <> and go the opposite way.

It is not that I don't miss having a relationship. It provides you with a huge sense of security. But then, that is not enough for me. I also need space in a relationship, a guy who is confident enough and patient enough to be my man. As one friend so aptly put it "You feel so kiss starved!" I'm not a fan of kisses, but hugs would be nice! And the media circus called Valentines Day sucks; totally.

In the shadows

2006-02-05T19:00:00.000-08:00

The idea of a gothic ID like banished soul was two fold:

To emanate vibes of coolness via blogosphere. Banished and soul are the keywords of deep thought and gives an indication of our existential agonies and transcendental realities and subsequent reconciliations [ whew!]
To remain anonymous on blogosphere.

Hence, please do not use my name when leaving comments. Any such comments, alas, will have to be deleted. Aj, pls reenter the comment na.. :P

PS: Ever noticed that my Blog name's initials are BS?? :P
PPS: Doing fine, never been better!

Requeim for a month : Tears shed and lessons learnt

2006-01-31T22:32:00.000-08:00

The saddest part is to say no to love when you know you do not want to end up hurting the person who loves you so much... and end up doing that anyways.

The good thing about having friends involved is that once it goes kaput, you can always surreptiously check on the other person via them. Affairs do not have this luxury.

If you really love your parents, you shouldn't be not just not doing in public things which hurt them. Refrain in private too. That is called sacrifice and being dutiful. The 'if you don't see it, it wont hurt you attitude is just cheating.

The person who initiates the walkout or the break-up also suffers... the loss of company combined with a major guilt complex is such a kicker for depression.

Friends do make a diference. To tell you that they just want you to be happy, to take you out for lunch, to once give you priority over their boyfriend and get you a neembu paani... and to allow you to wake them up from their sleep and cry your heart out in front of them.

In the duel between love and friendship, I fall for friendship; hook, line and sinker. As for love; someday I will be ready for him.

Galt and Roark wannabes...

2006-01-21T22:43:00.000-08:00

Ayn Rand's protagonists are humans who have defined their own reality. Like the guy in Anthem, they build up their own definitions and rules. The only thing that differentiates the and the "wannabes" is the fact that they are prepared to live with the aftereffects of their thought.

If I am to follow Rand's philosophy, then I have to disown whatever she says. I have to find my reality based on what I feel within me. I use the word feel as it is that first illogical sprout of thought which guides all our actions, and all further logic is based on it. Roark and Galt didn't care about "serving the world" because at some point of their lives, their minds rebelled and told them to discard the conventional wisdom. They did not have any ideal figurines to look up to; they chose not to sit and discuss the motives and ways of others, they did what they felt compelled to do; they knew the world through their actions.

Ayn Rand herself often didn't follow her philosophy of dispassionate objectivism. [ search wikipedia for an ironical account of how she cut off her ex-lover for cheating on her with another woman and turned him a pariah. ] It is because the combination of the people with such sterling qualities are difficult to find - superior intellect, a fanatical approach to one's work, wealth [ or friends/girlfriends with money] and an ability to completely disregard the opinions of others.

We are having a Rand play - night of January 16th - out here at the end of the month. Obsessing about the script threw up an interesting observation : If we read about a guy who swindles others money and stage his death to get away with it, our kneejerk reaction would be to condemn him. However, as it is Rand's characters; we love them and are on their side.

IMO, if there is a real Galt or Roark out there, s/he will be too busy doing what s/he wants to do to participate in discussions like this. They are the leaders who come up with things that we never thought of as never thought of, and the rest of the world either follows them or despises them.

But they are, never to be ignored.

Photobucket

2006-01-21T10:05:00.000-08:00

This is a test post from Photobucket.com

Frayed at the edge

2006-01-21T09:10:00.000-08:00

I really do not know what happened.

I thought we were a team. Close enough to laugh out loud at silly things and share many lazy afternoons. To go out on impromptu trips and come back laden with bags. T o share gossip in that deliciously sweet manner which only girls can.

So what happened to us?

We do not talk that much anymore. Even when you visit the others, you hardly come over. Your excuse is my privacy. But don't you know that your company is also dear to me?

And you; what is it with you? We too used to have a lot of good time, shared lunches on open hotel terraces where we talked about everything and nothing. What has changed now? How come you drop in n the others, but doesn't care to say even a 'Hi' anymore.

I am having difficult times. And I need you my friends, to coast me out as you know me far longer, far thoroughly and far unglamorously than my present company. And love can never ever replace my need for my friends or your presence in my life.

So the next time you are planning to go out; give me a call. Any time you plan to eat the dead body of a mammal or bird, count me in. And do drop in; plenty of times.

For the wise one has been doing just that, being there for me without being obvious. Apparently you are not her, but it doesn't not absolve you of being not there for me.

My friends, I need you. Remember me in your ordinary moments, those which you had shared with me in the past and made me feel special.

Lemonade, Anyone?

2006-01-16T07:15:00.000-08:00

Life is handing me lemons left and right. So, in the spirit of the cool lemonade of Dadu's [ the omnipresent teashop at a corner of XLRI, which have been there from time immemorial ] take a seat and sip on....

The first lemon happened sometime during September. That was the day when my project manager - the maverick who moved from consultants to internal HR - took a flying leap into the job fray. Without him to back me, my PPO went down the drain...

Now comes the D company - no, not the D company, but one of the people who are paid for their opinions. The equation was somewhat as follows: lazy girl + too much philosophy = freaked out recruiters and no job offer.

Then the next company came. It had a certain saambar rasam look to it. Went looking like a dish, but they preferred the person with the D offer and chose her.

Now the story picks up speed. In comes the man who is always right. Having just the ego levels of a pop tartlet, he pitches about his company, bullshits other companies and play blatant favoritism with the candidates who are sitting there all at once. We roll our eyes at each other, giggle and stare in disbelief.

Now for the process. One entire day, we are asked to wait around. Some of us miss our classes. The blatant wooing, ignoring the children of lesser Gods, continues. Sometime through the process, something inside me snapped.The good news is we know what we want. The bad news is we are too blunt in putting it forth. The worst news is the geezer trying to bore us to death.

So, that is about it. It is good fun, speaking your mind out. I am flunking the processes, but having a great time in doing it.

And what make you think I will sell my soul to you?

NB: Being the irrational human being that I am, I wanted to join the geezers company because of two of my very good friends working there...

After 45 minutes, I am fine. At peace. I guess the idea of a job offer is not at all different from a symphony of wooing. It is about who gets to say 'No' at first. Even if the company says that it wants me, I might say no. But then, if the company rejects first, then my chance for a 'No' is dimnished and I resent that blow to my ego. As long as ego lives long, atleast for now, I am happy. And I know the right thing in telling what I did and indirectly striking my name off the list.

Ke sera, sera. Actually it is a nice day, two people who mean a lot to me got job offers; that too in places where they will have some time left to spend on themselves.

And now to the geezer's recruits : may you have the strength to withstand his verbal diarrhea! :)

We wish you all the best in life....

2006-01-10T05:19:00.000-08:00

Today was a mixed bag. First my brother calls up - there are ties stronger than blood, you know - and tells me about how he finally asked her and she accepted. Even her parents accepted! Now only his mom has to agree to this - which I am pretty sure she will - his dad, brother and sister-in-law already okay with it. He also got into a decent MBA program, at the end of which he will be getting a good job.

Then my friend sends me a cute greeting card, a little "buck up!" for the placement season. The laterals have just started. Went for my first company and didn't get through. I have a hunch of why - my not so great CQ and lack of exposure to places outside Kerala - in that order.

I am glad that my friends got through. I hope they accept it; as it would mean two more people away from the fray. I am particularly in a sulky mood as I had to wait the most - was the last one; wasted 4 hrs which I could have spent watching a movie+reading a book+studying for my quiz tomorrow, and also had to deck up for the process in a coat and suit. My feet still hurts from wearing those ridiculous contraptions called formal shoes.

The only advantage of LRP is that there is no group discussion - the sham of all shams - to select people. I guess I want to get placed in LRP so that I can sit out the mad frenzy of CRP.

Yet to start studying for the quiz. Cannot even go out for a possible treat or treat myself - lots of portions to cover.

Seesh, I hate it when this happens. Why didn't I back off in the beginning itself? Wasted hours, a cranky me, and a quiz looming huge tomorrow.

Gee, I hate to ask for it, but I need a hug.

Resolutions

2006-01-02T11:17:00.000-08:00

Leaving aside world peace and finding the meaning of life, I take a hard look at the small small things in life. Atleast for me, the bigger things are easier to do but my happiness lies in the smaller ones. This is not a all new factory fresh list; it is more of a reminder to hold on to what I really enjoyed / always wanted to do this year.

Complete horse riding classes - despite the primadona horses and pain on the butt.
Do abstract paintings on the wall whereever I live for more than one month. Its an amazing thing, try doing it sometime!
Cook more often. I have found out that I love cooking, especially for my loved ones. And stop always trying to get them to clean up after me.
Eat more fruits and cut on the colas.
Read one book a week.
Always have some flowers in my room.
Do fabric painting.
Never miss a chance to watch a Tamil movie with the gang [ you know who you are, and I had an amazing time! ]
Blog atleast once a week.
Write more.
Combining 2 & 9, do something creative every month.
Color my hair electric pink or blue - ofcourse, after I clear a job interview and sign on the dotted line!

Which of us?

2005-12-31T12:09:00.000-08:00

"Which of us do you like better?"
"Well... That is tough to say... How can I choose between you two? It's impossible."

"Oh C'mon! You can live without love. Haven't you? It was I who made you happy then, remember? I stood by you and gave you strength. Love had always made you cry in the end. He is so fickle."

"Big Deal!! You know how you missed me when I was not there. Friendship can never replace me. I am the best, and you know it."

" What a joke! She was lonely when her friends went away. YOU did nothing to make her happy. She needs her friends to be happy. But she can live without you..."

"Well.. That IS true... I have lived without love, and often loved and lost..."

"Bah! As if she has friends for life! Friends come and go in her life... and she has many friends.. But love.. Ah.. You can have only one person for that."

"Guys... Guys... I hate to say this, but you both are wrong."

"WHAT??? No way... "

"Listen... I love my friends... and want my lover to be my friend. I appreciate it when friendship sees to it that I dance a lot and spend time with love.. and it makes me happy when love is endorsed by friends. I am a person with different likes... So I need different friends. Also, I need someone to call my own... In the same way, I appreciate it when love encourages my friendships and forge new ties with them."
"But still... If asked to choose? "

"Oh.. Then I will say friendship..."

"But why?"

"I can have many friends.. Each catering to that special gleam within me; helpin to convert it into a blazing glory. It is the most unselfish act of relationships... You can be with as many as you can.. It never gets divided... and you can walk off whenever you want...

But I need love to complete my happiness."

*********************

This year, I was blessed with love and friendship. Love came without knocking, when I was reveling away to glory with friendship. And friendship was gracious enough to feel happy for me, encouraging me to hang on and to go that extra mile. I have been meeting my long lost friends again, and nothing can beat the happiness I feel when hearing from them. I made new friends online, and over a short period, they have become permanent members of my clan of kindred souls.

And love, with an indulgent smile, looks on.

I did not win any case studies. Or gold medals. Or became the class topper. But looking back, this year gave me one of my closest friends - I can tell him everything [ proof? coz I have said and we are still friends ] - and that someone I feel all giddy inside thinking about. I have heard about love hating friendship or friendship breaking off with love. Frankly, I was apprehensive.

But, love wants to be friends with friendship. And friendship likes love.

Thank you, 2005.

Rediscoveries...

2005-12-28T10:12:00.000-08:00

2005 have been the year of reconnecting. All round the year, around every nook and corner, I came across some wonderful people whom I had met, and lost touch, over the years. Nothing gives you more pleasure than to stumble across those wonderful people whose company you really enjoyed.. and to discover that you like their new avtars even better.

Some valuable finds this year:

The Girl:

She was more like a little sister to me in my school days. We went together for quizzes, elocution competitions... But somehow, the fact that we were from two rival schools never mattered. Our friendship was a sort of holier than thou thingy - there was some instance of political correctness it it - or was it that we both were such nerds??? [ Seeeesh.... ]Lost touch with her after sometime, now, she is here - better, wiser, stronger and sassier. And my! Don't I love it!!!

The Painter :

I had a major crush on this guy's paintings. [ The cultural scenario was such that having a crush on a guy junior to you was a cardinal sin, so I never thought of that. ] I still love his paintings - or rather, the memory of them. One pet peeve of mine was the fact that we were never really friends back in school. And one day I find him in www, all grown up and much wiser and sadder, now seducing words effortlessly. [ But I still prefer his paintings!]. On second thoughts, any attempt at friendship b/w two precocious young things would have ended back then in life long rivalry. Thankfully, later is definitely better in this case.

The Lady:

I cannot think of her as anything else. She was the total antithesis to me - calm, composed, diligent. Came across her recently. She looks the same, but looks can be very very......

The Senior:

This guy was the one of the very few who had dreams in my engineering college - among those I knew. Good dreams. Big dreams. Tried to bring some sense of professionalism to our college, but did not really succeed. The first egotist I recognized as such. Has he ever read Ayn Rand? One of the things which I remember him for is the awesome 90kmph bike ride for arnd 2 hrs that we had to attend a quiz competition. The journey by itself was great - I love high speed - and the fact that we won it makes it all the more special.

The Studious:

He was my arch nemesis. My parents wanted me to follow his example of studying, being sensible, serious and diligent. I freaked out big time on those, especially the being sensible part. Candid Confession : I used to have some perverse pleasure in beating him during quizzes, as that was my only way of validating my superiority over him. Despite all that, he was/is a sweet, nice guy, ready to help. And with a good sense of humor - but not very discernible. Met him a few days back on orkut, and I am a much more happier person. Yayee!

The Booze:

The first time I met him, I somehow wanted to know him better. My antenna for eccentricity was working overtime I suppose. However, it was not until this year that I really got a chance to do that. And had a good time too in IMP. Wit and sarcasm are his forte, and also movies :) This too is a case of getting better with age.

Ok then. These are a few people. I have discovered quite a many others too, waiting for them to reply, and until then, adios!

A perfect Day

2005-12-16T04:50:00.000-08:00

It felt wonderful to wake up just by yourself, without the mobile alarm rushing you off to neverending work.

Stared at the laoptop screen, then played some more spider solitaire. Read up a few good movie scripts from web - movies which I may not have otherwise watched - and saw the movie Ground Hog Day.

Ani buzzes, askes if I would like to go to Sakchi. It is the more haphazard market but hey, I have all the time in the world today. I stretch my limbs, get my rooms cleaned out, and write a cheque to withdraw money from the bank.

It was a nice day there too. Not too many lines, a few nice known faces which spread some wholesome small talk and smiles. Now walk over to the wall dividing us from Jubilee Park, and jump over.

Today was a busy day at the wall. A fifth standarder and her younger brother were also on the line. First them, then us. The park was in full bloom, or may be it was just the way the sunlight was flirtng with the colours.

We stood at the same old place where I had stood with Macchan for many a VFM [ value for money in bizbuzz, cheap in common parlance ] journeys to south indian food. Presently we reach Sakchi, and the shopping begins. After some more VFM experiences, we go to the hotel where we would be meeting Lash and Gaya. Soon news flows back and forth. It has been almost 3 months when me and Lash and Anitha nad a good chat. But no matter. We are rooted deep; and many announcements and congratulations later, we decide to split up.

I flick the rose flower on the vase on the table, yielding to the temptation. The waiters discretly turn away their eyes. I further yield to my weak side, wanting to visit the old books market. We go their, me bargaining, but LAsh looking too lost; both to the art of bargaining and to the books there.

Ani and Gaya split, coming back later with roses for us. We grin, count our bounty of Nat Geo, Elle, and the like for Lash's collages, Archies, Dame Agatha and Spaceman Spiff for me, and a whole load of do you remember stories brought back by Enid Blyton books on sale. I do not want to buy anymore, I plan to go back there with Abhi and get him do the dirty deed of feigning shock anfd surprise at the prices for me.

The roses are fresh, beautiful. We accept our flowers graciously, thanking the girls with many smiles. I guess red roses are more to be passed to you by boyfriends than dosths, but I am happy with this arangement. Me and Ani hop on to an auto, whose driver mouths a sensible sum, for a change. We relax back, reach XL and head for our rooms. I find that the movie download is complete, and the print is good.

And just in a flash, I realise that this was a happy day, a perfect day for me, one that made me happy, with the simple pleasures which sparkle around you and finally settle in your eyes and smile; the ones which linger around like a wiff of perfume...

Thanks!

You are being rude to me when....

2005-12-03T20:51:00.000-08:00

You expect me to respond to your Yahoo buzz.
Unless you left a message for me along with the buzz, there is no need for me to reply to you. Also, it would be a good idea to remain online so that I can see you and reply to your buzz.

You spam me with umpteen group messages.
Unless we belong to the same class or group, there is no excuse in spamming me. So please organize your yahoo messenger list into groups so that I do not get message which have no remote connection to me.

You send me links which have malware at the end of it.
It wasn't funny; and it is not funny now. I resent wasting my time restarting my comp due to some stupid malware and cursing you to plague.

You do not reveal your identity.
I really have a wider social circle than you think. If your handle is "stupididiot11234" then I expect you to first introduce yourself to me, and in detail.

You don't respect the 'Busy' sign.
I put that sign up for a reason: I want to be left alone. Unless it is something really important to the two of us; please do not message. With the Busy signal, please state your purpose at the very first message.

You think I am your servant.
Me having an online messenger doesn't mean that I have to be at your beck and call. I have the freedom to ignore your buzzes and messages.

You give me missed calls with no followup messages.
Master the art of SMS; and use it to message me if I do not respond to your call on my cell.

You want to play guessing games with me on messenger / phone.
I don't care for guessing games. Period. Take your perverted mindgames somewhere else, you freak.

You think I am " frank & open minded".
This may come as a surprise to you, but I didn't join any of the webcommunities to hook up with / chat with random strangers. Please introduce yourself to me if we do know each other. And yes, I am neither frank nor open minded.

You think I do not have enough friends.
I do! And I really don't like messages saying " I want to be your friend" - I think they are stupid as friendship is not a project; it is something which happens naturally.

I do have a sizable number of online friends- mostly of the opposite gender - people whom I got to know through their webpages, blogs et al... and whom I had met after being fast friends with them, and some I have never even met. But creeps who act like the instances mentioned above; those I can do without.

For you, my friend..

2005-11-20T09:59:00.000-08:00

You mailed me, asking about the way a woman think. I gave you a vague reply, as I did not want to hurt you by blurting out the truth. But now that I think of it, knowledge is power, and more power to you; my friend!

So at the risk of being branded a turncoat by my fellow femmes, I now unveil these truths about us women, in relationships.

We hate your friends. At time very much, at times very little, but we do develop a healthy dislike for your male friends, especially if they are single. They are our real competition, as they can very well snare you away by your myriad video games and porn videos. We also hate your female friends to a lesser extent as they are potential competition. If she is intelligent, she will try to be more friends with us. We know that she is doing it so that you two can continue to be friends, but as long as she realizes our power in your life, we are okay with that.
We hate it when you obsess over your past relationships. You broke up for a reason. Now get over that slut and focus on us! We are cool if you find it difficult to totally forget her; just do not make her the topic of discussion between us.
Don't compare us to your mother. Granted, it might be your form of telling that we are absolutely wonderful, but your raves about how well we resemble your mother or any elderly female relative reminds us of a guy called Oedipus who had issues with his parents. Which is spooky.
We hate it when you litter. Please, please pick up all the food crumbs that you leave on the floor. ie; if you want this relationship to continue.
Don't cancel out on us. If you promise to be at someplace, then you better be there! Only exception is when you die or is paralyzed.
It's ok to act jealous... a little. We love it when you think that we are stupid to stick with you. And it does give us a kick when you act a bit jealous. But if you really get jealous, then it is a no-no.
You must like my friends. Unlike most of your friends, our friends are so much more pleasant. Try being friends with them. We love it when you do that.
Give us gifts ' just because'. Buy us music, bring us flowers, buy us chocolates or soft toys, write us love letters... pamper us guys... We totally flip out on them, eventhough some of us have a hard time admitting that we like it.
Don't make fun of us when we cry. Not if you want to live a long life.
Never, ever hit us back. Not even if we beat you black and blue and make you undergo an near death experience. You hitting us is cruel and insensitive. We hitting you is light and playful. Period. No exceptions!

Ok... I guess these are true for girls in a relationship... me as your friend will behave in a totally different manner - by the way; I guess you now know why I look forward to meeting her! :)

Better...

2005-11-18T04:38:00.000-08:00

"Each batch thinks that they are better than the ones before them."

"Well, I dont know. It seems to me that our seniors were better than us."

" Really? But you base your observation on what? "

" Well... being part of this batch allows me to observe everyone and everything that is happening... and from close quarters, you really get to see the real truths and motives. With our seniors... well, they were our mentors, the people with all the wisdom... also the ones with whom we interacted were invariably the ones whom we really liked. "

" And what does that mean? "

" Well, it means that when you look at people through the eyes of love, you do not see their flaws. And even if you see their flaws, you also see what make them that way and you forgive them."

" Are you saying that you donot like our batchmates? "

" Well, I interacted with the seniors only when I wanted to, and to the extent I wanted to. With our batchmates, that kind of a freedom is not there. If the seniors were a well executed movie, our batchmates is a 24 hr reality show."

"Which gets kinda drawn out after sometime."

"Exactly."

"So will you still say our seniors are better?"

" To each our own... to each our own... "

Bla Bla

2005-11-17T10:19:00.000-08:00

Reading Santharam. It is wonderful, how a long book stays with you like a trusted friend. The flavour of it is sipped slowly, and I am enjoying it very much.

Have been getting a staggering amount of virus mails. Should say, the subjectlines and the way those mails are words are to be appreciated.

Am into reading screenplays nowadays. If a movie is really great, then its screenplay is a good indicator of that greatness. Actually, the dramas are comedies are more enjoyable that way - I somehow didnot enjoy the American Pie series on screen as much as i did when I read it. Quinn Tarrentino is a good read.

Am looking for Revenge of the Nerds Screenplay. Anyone know any free site from which to download?

Walk past...

2005-11-10T18:48:00.000-08:00

Visited a fellow Ilander and saw a post about Kannur and Kerala, which had me thinking about my childhood days.

Now why am I feeling so nostalgic? I could have gone back to Kerala whenever I wanted. Hop on a plane, <> and a train, and I am home. Back to the sea and the backwaters. Back to an abundance of green which just take your breath away.

But I chose to stay away. For the Kerala in my dreamscape exists only outside the train windows - even those, at last count, are degreenerating to concrete chawls. The horrible horrible gossipy nature of Malayali, our penchant for all talk and no work, and the repressed sexual frustation of Malayali men which manifests itself through gropefests in crowded places repelled me.

Still, I hope to buy a typical naalukettu - hang over from MTV[asudevan Nair, our Jnanpeeth winning writer] - and settle down admist the abundace of sun, green and the sea.

I am enchanted, and the magic can never be countercast.

2005-11-02T22:34:00.000-08:00

our wash tub in Shillong...

2005-11-02T22:25:00.000-08:00

stay hidden... away from poachers' eyes.. stay salient.. to awe and to humble the puny beings who pass by..

2005-11-02T22:20:00.000-08:00

a great place to visit..
but to stay??

2005-11-02T22:10:00.000-08:00

and we were banished from cherapunji, drove away by the night, and supervised by the moon; no mercy, no second chance...

2005-11-02T22:04:00.000-08:00

the best loo in the world.. :P

2005-11-02T21:34:00.000-08:00

the beauty of the destination is revealed by the journey..

2005-11-02T21:18:00.000-08:00

another shade of perfection...

2005-11-02T20:45:00.000-08:00

i saw this on my last night at shillong... from where i was lying down, i looked up; and saw the magic refleted up there....

2005-11-02T20:29:00.000-08:00

we camped here... on the lakeside.. sat till late night to talk, and like puppies; slept on the steps leading to the banks... the moon, she stood guard over us like a competent nanny...

Shillong - The hidden paradise

2005-11-02T19:43:00.000-08:00

No digital gimmicks... just the beauty of nature over and again... it was a wonderful experience full of fond memories, one which i hope to relive when I go back there...

The girl and the bitch gang...

2005-10-26T23:57:00.000-07:00

This is a not about me. This is about the girl.

Girl was the apple of their eyes and inspiration for their wet dreams. They soo wanted her, never mind the technical glitch of having girlfriends back in hometowns. But girl, it turned out, was no bimbette. She had the disadvantage of having a brain, which they could not really relate to. Some, in isolation still did, but the group prevailed, the group was omnipotent.

Contrary to their expectations, the girl went forth and established her own clan. Many were those who loved to talk to her and have her as a friend. Many, who refused to heed the collective bitchiness of the group. And they were still having their wet dreams, which the tried to smoke out of their consciousness.

Time passed. Girl was doing well, which the group didn't like. The group was omnipotent, and it's wishes are to be obeyed. So the group went on, oh, nothing much, just some stinky stories here and there to call the girl a slut, atleast with the newbies. [ The oldies loved her too much to hear anything like that, and the group, in a fluke action of intelligence realized it.]

Girl was hurt, she withdrew, into a shell. And the souls around her were disturbed, felt her sadness, but could not do anything about it, as she was too dignified to resort to the groups tactics.

The girl, like the group wanted, started eschewing her happiness, fearing their poison darts. But how long can she be not the wild child that she is? Especially when the times are changing, and changing for good?

Addentum: Thanks woman, for heeding my prayers! :)

vaccum of emptiness

2005-10-25T01:35:00.000-07:00

Surprisingly, life feels emptier than ever before.

My personal life is going great guns. I am surrounded by good friends, I have people whom I can call up at anytime and demand a hug, I do not fear my personal future, I am getting bike rides through country roads by the dozen...

Still, I am sliding, ever so slowly, into depression.

I am a competitive person by nature. I want to be considered amongst the best. I also think myself to be fairly intellectual and mature. I genarally measure myself against myself, echewing all external rating scales, but now, I suddenly feel rusty.

All around me, people are doing case studies, B Plans, paper writing, et al. Some will win, some will lose. All for one elusive CV bullet point for CRP. To eventually end up in some office, making colourful ppts.

I hate such competitions, but even then, I too am being sucked into the frenzy of B School Competitions. Why? I ask myself. Dont you have someone who loves you? Good friends? Slightly woozy, but caring parents? Don't you know that you will get a job, no matterwhat, as you are an XLer??

I know... but then again, this urge to just prove to others that I too can win their games with their rules is eating me inside out. My book is pulling me the other way. My book loses out. I lose out. And the cases, I hate them...

Speak up, someone!!

The Case of Cases

2005-10-20T08:12:00.000-07:00

One of the most used - and most truthful answers heard during MBA class discussions is ... "it depends." We have been rather actively exposed to HBR cases that case discussion happens everyday - weekends and holidays are for wimps- and we are asked to answer questions on a session to session basis.

I have some complaints against case based study. For once, it is about some arbit company - Ok, not that arbit - in some foreign country which has no bearing to the Indian scenario. When more and more companies are seeing India as their F1 race track - again, info from one case on International HRM : see Sir, I do read the caselets!! :) - it is stupid on Indian B Schools part not to develop a good case base on Indian scenarios.

Another aspect of the case is that there is an information dichotomy here [ not really sure what it means, I am using here to sound MBAish ]. You are viewing the case through the eyes of just 1-4 individuals. In the case of HR/strategy issues, this aspect is very significant as a lot of soft [ more jargon! ] issues also play a role in the final outcome of a series of events. I mean, how many people will confide to a case writer - or his secondary source - that " I agreed to sign the M&A as I wanted to pee and the only way to end the meeting was to agree to sign it." ( and looking at the disastrous M&A [ mergers and acquisitions - hey!!! Let me get my money worth of jargon in here!! ] this might very well be one of the possibilities.

But, the good thing about case based study is the perfect hind sight. You come up with ideas ranging from ok [ minimal jargon ] to fundooo [ 100 % jargon ] to D-U-H??? [ are there words like that in English?? ] only to be told by the prof that the company actually did something very silly [ which means an incremental change or some off the cuff, impulsive thing.. Or just waiting it out.. ] and survived. Or that they actually tried one of the very solid looking solutions and went bankrupt.

I think case based study is the MBA equivalent of legend swapping when soldiers gather around a campfire. It brings into mind what has been done, what is possible, and also the fact that the crazy loon in the class who get a C/C+ in almost all the subjects might very well be your boss tomorrow as all innovations has been brought about by crazy loons - or ab/sub/para/non normal people.

I have to sign off - have to read 2 cases now!!!

NB: Check out my ticket to a frax life: Ant-E-Man & Nick O'Barr

More on IIPM

2005-10-14T09:01:00.000-07:00

Despite being the hottest topic in the cyberworld, the IIPM fraud news have not been really covered by the mainstream media. NDTV covered the news, and so did HT.

On the face of it, one must be surprised. This may lead to the unearthing of a major educational fraud. This may lead to a tantalizing story of how black money becomes white. Of the power of press - for I think journalism extends beyond the semi-playboy spreads or the share watching nerd news which the paperwallah deliver to our hostelrooms everyday. But none of that is happening here. This from a nation who thrives on sensationalism; of printing gory pics of disasters or nubile young women to excite their readers.

On second thoughts, it actually baffles me that so many print pads have taken up the issue.

Similarly, management institute IIPM continued to be on the high-spending list of advertisers in print and was at No 7 slot with a spend of Rs 3 crore, against the previous monthÂs spend of Rs 3.2 crore when it registered at No 3

Any Bschool student from a good B School will tell you that it is the advertising, not the readers, who rake in the big money for the newspapers.

And its all about money, honey!!
addendumm: Our dear bearded prof was also targeted by some chuss ano-ny-muss for his audacity to criticize IIPM. Do visit his blog to know what happened next.

My dear non-bearded seniors blogged a play on their Dhaaba too. Visit it for some laughs.

IIPM - dare to think beyond their ads??

2005-10-13T21:54:00.000-07:00

http://greatbong.blogspot.com/2005/10/indian-institute-of-international.html
http://gauravsabnis.blogspot.com

my two pence.

Please chk out beyond the ads before you join any MBA institute.

this is a public service message put forth by me. I think that any institute of learning who tries to arm twist people into accepting whatever they say should be subjected to media scrutiny.

"is IIPM a central government run institute? if not, how come they are using 'Indian' in the name of the institute (Indian Institute of Planning & Management). As per supreme court directive, only central govt run colleges can use names like Indian, Mahatma Gandhi etc. "

-- as posted in one of my college newsgrps.

If they are not a central govt insti, can I sue them for 100000 crores for fraud???

musings of a lazy mind...

some days back...

2005-10-13T21:51:00.000-07:00

It has been a while, huh? Coming back after a break is always awkward, taking those tentative steps, not knowing if the code of conduct has changed or not. It has been a frenzied world out there, and I was caught up in the swirl. I really do not know what exactly to write about; so much have changed since the last post.

Now that we are here, let us take a long hard look into something which we both feel strongly about. Something like... freedom? And individuality?

I have seen instances where a conscious stand for modernity tramples out the tradition. But, who am I to define modernity anyway? What I see and total stupidity would be the heights of human creativity for another being. But the point is, do we recognize another’s right to call my best their worst? And do we want to??

Well, this is what happens when I am not writing about what I want to write... the words rebel and refuse to shape up.

Now reading Archie comics... and Wodehouse too... I have rather taken a shine to totally frivolous lifestyles of the English upper crust.

Got re-addicted to the game “Dope Wars” - simple buying/selling game of drugs. Tried to download it, but no success. Also Sudokuing my time away. And sleep. And movies. And yep, I am getting addicted to bike rides too...

You know you are not totally over the camping/trekking trip when...

2005-09-21T05:15:00.000-07:00

You do not gross out when seeing assorted insects, worms or dead animals

Mess food tastes good

You try to eat random looking fruits, berries and uproot small plants to eat their roots

Whenever you see a group of people, you run upto the front and smile, waiting for your picture to be taken

You contemplate drinking water from the mosquito breeding centre – also known as ‘pond’ in local parlance – when you are thirsty

You think taking an auto for any distance less than 3 Km is either for invalids or wimps

Your friends and Profs donot recognize you because of your tan

When you donot recognize yourself in pictures because of your tan

And the #1 sign is....

When you want to answer nature’s call, you look for proper cover behind the bushes!!!

Im listening to MLTR

2005-09-10T09:18:00.000-07:00

Im listening to MLTR on my laptop and a heavy rucksack beckons me. Its just 15 minutes for my departure. I am carrying Michael Ondaatje’s The English Patient to read on the journey.

The adrenalin rush is still there, but I am more or less ready to take it. I need this diversion now. I am not sure why I signed up for this, but guess it will turn out well – as all my impulsive, spur of the moment decisions have been.

Met an Ayn Rand lover in the mess today. Who would have thought? Many of those I came across here either thought Ayn too hi-fi or too stupid for the reality. And one of the persons whom I never even thought had anything in common with me have something nice and interesting to tell about her.

MLTR gave way to Will Smith, and now Brahms is serenading me.

Ciao then. I am taking a notepad with me. I hope to write about the trip so that I can develop it into something and then put it up on you.

You take care and be a good blog now!

See you after 20th..

2005-09-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

The wooda are lovely, dark and deep

2005-09-08T09:13:00.000-07:00

I am extremely psyched out, and yet, I can’t wait for the trek to start. A bunch of XLers who are not 100% normal thought that the best way to enjoy a vacation is to spend the 10 days in the wild, trekking to Chirapunji, and rock climbing, paragliding et al on the way.

I have been always afraid of heights and falling from great heights. Even my most fearful dreams consisted of me falling and experiencing the gravity pull – and now I am on my way to experience the heights.

Why did I go for it? Well, a lot of factors contributed. One friend promised to take me to the neighborhood IIT and then to Calcutta. Then his mom called and demanded that he drag his fat ass home or else... [We never know what moms mean when they say ‘or else...’ Na?]

That left me with 3 + 3 days to spend on the train and subsequent courtesy callings, where except the places where I spent my childhood and places with kids, I have no wish to go again... but talk about the ‘or else... ‘clause of mothers....

So I decided I will brave the mosquito bites for 10 days than go home or sit at XLRI. The latter was never really an option as I cry whenever I see my friends lave for end term holidays. Weird but true.

But all this really do not explain why I signed up.

I want to go there because I have never done this before. I want to experience this, so that I can tell myself later that I did it. So that when someone who looks upto me asks me for advice, I can look at them in the eye and ask them never to fear the unknown, but to explore it at the risk of discomfort and anxiety.

Weird, but true. Which makes this even weirder for me.

GH4 is dead, long live GH4

2005-09-01T07:33:00.000-07:00

GH4 is not mine anymore. I tried being there this term, this entire term, but no; I have disowned it; and it has forgotten me. That floor where I used to go for really good talks and watching all sorts of movies ranging from Chinese to Lebanese is not there. The floor which expanded my reading, my movie related knowledge, the floor where I saw how filthy you can keep a room and still live there, the dope room, the cigarette room, the daroo room...

And the people in them. A nice gentleman sweetie pie, a stubborn bull, a slightly moody doggy, a bear that is totally selfish like a kid, the creative muse of our batch who was bursting with ideas, the guy who could have been the topper but chose not to, our own Pele, the rain gods, Neo from the matrix - they all were there.

That floor had something special in it. It housed some of the best brains of our college, some of the best players and some creative geniuses. I guess it was our equivalent of Paris during Renaissance, with people from other floors and hostels flocking there for likeminded souls. The place which was the base to an eclectic array of people who added strength and spine to our culture. They were the mavericks, the people who chose to be who they wanted to be and cheerfully waved the finger at disapproving eyes. Individualism was their mantra. They spread out into different directions, different dimensions, thus adding depth and meaning to the subculture of GH4.

I miss them.

Now GH4 is much tamer. I cannot find the same intense conversations, gyan sessions, insights and inspirations which were so abundant then. It is inhabited by a different breed, not as coarse as the earlier one, and definitely not as attractive.

GH4 has renewed her password, and all of a sudden I find myself not knowing it. My onlyreprievee is the memory of those days, and the EL top where I sit to think and to star gaze. And I find that I do not really care about belonging to each and every room of that floor any more. They were my seniors, the people whom I watched with awe, who opened the magic box called XLRI to me. And the current residents are my friends, the people I know and love, whose feets of clay I am too aware of. Add to it some juniors -blasphemy! - and the disenchantment is complete. The Mavericks have moved on, and so should I.

GH4 is dead, long live GH4.

Stepping Aside..

2005-08-26T09:17:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, I thought that by the time I am 22, I would be knowing what I would like to be in life. By the time I am 24, I would be starting a career, dignified, graceful, fleshy, matured and with one kid and a dotting husband.

Now that I am 24, I do not feel as I thought I would be feeling at 24. I still donot know what exactly I want to do in life – Ok, I want to be a writer at sometime in future, but it is not what I am gonna do in seven months from now. And I really don’t know how to go about it.

At times it scares me. I came to XLRI so that I can find out what I would like to do, to have more choices in life. I thought my seniors or professors had all answers – they certainly had all answers to my questions – but now, I feel that they are also living out the answers to their questions, but anyways, how can they know what I would be happy with? Will I ever have children of my own? Will I enjoy what I do everyday in my life? Will I get a good job? Will I be successful in my life? Am I asking for too much out of life?

All these questions psyche me out. So I decide not to think of them. Which doesn’t really help, as I am being different nowadays the process of change speeding up unnaturally, and I want to know who I am. And as I am too afraid to ask myself, fearing I would not find the answers, I turn to other people to define me.

Which leaves me totally confused and depressed.

I cannot really do anything about it. I have been talking to a few friends, people with whom you can really talk of these things and who listens and offers you grounded perspectives. Like they said, I am stepping aside, letting the flow past me and sitting on the bank under a shady tree. I can do without too many people around me, I was never the popular type.

A friend google talked me today so that he can just sit with me and spend some time. We talked about inane things, and that too not much. But it was nice in a totally underrated way, and it felt good that people actually seeked me out to talk to aise hi.

A wish, a prayer, a hope

2005-08-25T04:25:00.000-07:00

My dear friend....

You asked me today, what your chances are with your man. You looked at the here & now, with happiness and joy in your eyes, and at the future with fear and trepidation. You want to get married to him, raise his kids, and live life in love. And you wonder whether it would happen or not.

I wish like anything, more than my happiness, that you two end up together, giving each other more and more happiness and contentment. I am glad that your man is a man of honor, someone who is realistic and caring, and beyond the usual male chauvinistic tendencies. I am relieved that he has a mind of his own and is not afraid what he feels towards you.

My friend, I wish you both the very best. May you both remain the best of friends and the deepest of lovers. May your love and friendship sustain each other. May you both enrich each other’s life, not just with yourselves, but also with the people who love and care for each of you.

Class Notes

2005-08-20T12:44:00.000-07:00

Just back from a class. Here is what I observed about my classmates - a translation of what has been there on their faces.

Except for me, Mintu & MatHur, everyone else will not be named.

--Duh? The point being.. ?
--Why... me???
--Yaaaawn...
--zzzzzzz..... swasamendri tapikkirene [ song Uyirin Uyire frm Kakka kakka].... zzzzzz....
--What is my takeaway from this class??? Where is my takeaway from this class??
--Wow!!! So much CP!!! [CP - class participation which doesnot improve the collective intelligence of the class ]
--Class, do not screw up the game [ we had to design business games for an assessment center ] I designed.. be professional.
--sleep - CP - sleep
--My! I love being an executive!!!
--Karmanye vadikarastye na bhaleshu kadachana...
--This is like getting your teeth pulled out without anesthesia....
-- I hate Big Picture. Just tell me what I am to do.
-- Mommy! :(
-- Wow!! I am learning sooo much...
--Don't tell me you guys believe in all this gas...
-- Mintu : Awww!!! Wowwwww!!! [ subconcious thought - Aint I a cho cute kid??? I need my mommy... >:)< ]
-- Okay... cool... okay...
--You non creative people.. I hate this class...
--Hmmmmm.....
--How can people develop so much gas?????? Well, whatever..... as long as I get my grades...
-- I wish I wasn't here... but now that I AM here...
--MatHur : I want to sleep.. play NFS... anything but this... [ in a zombie state]
-- Yay! I am doing ACP [ arbit CP] with Sir!!
--Me: I am so depressed that my life is ebbing away in this stupid fuck of pointless classes when I could have slept... Wait, why don't I blog about this or write a story?? ?
--Awww.. I can't call up my boyfriend... I miss him.. poor baby... No, no, I will listen to the class... aww...
--Bunch of kids, really. This wont do in real life.

XLers, care to try out whom all it was abt?

Others, doesnt this happen in your class/workplace?? If not tell us the secret!!

Yeah yeah.. I am fine.

2005-08-18T15:10:00.000-07:00

The path of self discovery begins in front of your comp and ends at a blog post.

So here goes:

I am more tough than I think.

I prefer an outright No to a veiled one.

I am an egoist. [Ayn Rand, be proud of me! :) ]
I still don't know what I want to be. But I know that I want to be what I want to be.

I still don't know the answer to the question "Why me??" . I have got a lot of replies, but then, they are all about some stranger. I make You feel inferior? Ha ha. Good one. But I thank you for the compliment though.

I suppress grief - till I get a chest pain or breathlessness.

I work the best when I am hurt and lonely.

Anger, pain, abandonment, cynism etc. motivate me.

I have this 'thing' for violence. I would love to join a 'Fight Club' where you can release all your pent up emotions in physical violence.

I do know how to spend time with myself.

I love my company a lot.

I take risks, without knowing that they are perceived so by most people. For me, they are the most obvious choices of life.

I value my friends, but I value courage and honesty more.

I am sleepy right now.

And I'm gonna sleep :)

On the dock

2005-08-13T04:03:00.000-07:00

I was called Poison Ivy by a friend back in the place where I was working. The reason was that I lashed out - literally - and clawed when people tried to bug me too much. All my friends has my claw marks on their arms as a memory of my friendship.

I am also the kind of person who give it all out for a relationship and when it doesn't cut out well, cut off everything and go underground. Many a good friends have tried in that KillBill-istic period to maintain the friendship, and I have stupidly, sadly, said no to them all. But I guess I could not have agreed to have them close, have them near, reminding me of what was once there and missing now.

However, I eventually tend to get over 'stuff' and then miss the friendship. I wish there could be the kind of good/fun/intellectual friends that I used to have in them.

I think I am more like a people collector, adding people to my repertoire for their particular characteristics.

Why am I thinking about all this now??

Because I miss my friends whom I chose to ditch when they acted out their human weaknesses thinking that as their friend, I would forgive them.

I didn't.

Because they thought I was strong enough to mean what I said.

I wasn't.

Now, when I am in a role reversal, how well I understand, how well I know. But here, I am going to anchor to the port, wait for the storm to get over, and then start my journey.

For this is not a trading ship, but a voyager ship. I am more interested in the journey than the eventual porting at a coast or the wreck that might happen.

Let the storm brew over and out. I am walking around this port city, taking in the sounds and smells and having a good time with my band of merry women, singing songs and enjoying the good life.

Harebrained Creatures...

2005-08-12T07:28:00.000-07:00

Other than that, I do not find any reason as to why men feel that women are a mystery.

The basic courtesy taught by your parents are all that most women want. When men are very good in their manners when they are at home with their mothers and in a corporate environment with their lady boss or Angelina Jolie, I wonder at their dumbhead attitude which is all entrenched in their interpersonal relationships with us.

I haven't told you about Idot, right? He is the summ total of men's stupidity, of those times when men I really think were intelligent act stupid. I will be using him as a common pseudonym for all the men in my life when they goof up.

The other day, we were sitting in his room and talking about this hot junior babe. Idot, like the rest of the senior batch, has developed a crush on her. He had the competitive advantage that she was in his committee, and this opened an avenue of interpersonal interactions for him.

"I am going to be active in pursuing this one" He told me, eyes shining.

I picturised Idot and the girl in Cafe Coffee Day. "Don't ask her out in such a hurry. Begin by offering help in her studies. Then after 2-3 weeks casually ask her out." I offered.

"Pagal hai kya?? I am not being so active... What I meant was, I will be following her around everywhere... "

"Following a girl around??? You psycho, you will psyche her out acting like one!!!"

"Don't girls like being followed?? "

"Well, all the girls whom I know - including me - who had guys trailing their every move thought that they were perverts. And some even filed a police complaint. "

Just one example. I have an assignment to submit, and am off!

err.. ahem.. :">

2005-08-07T01:50:00.000-07:00

Some of you have been good friends some time back, mere acquaintances now... Or you might be someone with whom I would like to strike up a friendship, And still feeling awkward about taking that first step... Some of you I have never met, some of you I haven't met for years, some I meet every day....

Some of you have been just familiar faces, but have now become good friends - or is still in the process :) You might be that kind of friends who are now more like family My support systems, my anchors to reality and purpose, My fun generators, my partners in crime My confidants, people who confide in me People who can light up my day by just being around People who live life to the fullest and make an example of how to live it... People who are an inspiration...

People whom I ask for advice, people whom I give advice to People whom I pamper, people who pamper me People who dig my bad side, people who nurture my good side Crushes turned friends, friends turned crushes, friends, crushes... Rivals turned friends, friends turned rivals and rivals turned enemies...

But, all said and done, it is you who have made a difference in my life, Opened my eyes to the endless possibilities of living And my life would not have been the same without each one of you... Thanks for playing a part - central, cameo, knowingly, unknowingly... But nevertheless, significant...

Let me celebrate you.

Luv,

And when it rains...

2005-08-05T03:20:00.000-07:00

Rain has given us...

Meghamalhar.. the music of the rains, the dusky beauty of the sky like a husky voice...

An excuse to go back to our childhood... playing with the rain and dreaming of paper boats and rain coats...

Listen to classical miusic - karnatic, hindustani, sufi, western... the music rains upon you and soak your soul...

Warm cozy beds and good sleep... to curl up and dream.. to feel the warmth of earth's womb...

A renewing accquiantance with solitude... nothing beats sitting alone and watching the stormn accompany the rainto the sky, like a shy bride to the wedding fire...

An enduring love affair with the luxury of warm coffee and good books...

Here's to the rain!

Addendum to the previous post

2005-08-03T11:37:00.000-07:00

And the pervert that I am, I feel proud & is grimly satisfied of the fact that I cut out that much from my heart and carved it into a nice blog post - the one below.

Is the only difference between creative beings and lunatics this fact - that the former embraces life knowing fully well the risks, and get beaten up and broken down, hurt, so that they can create something out of the pain, while the latter does it involuntarily?

Or are creative people lunatics who know how to channel their creativity? Are people like me Writebots to whom every feeling, every experiance, every relationship a premise for a good story or poem?

Professor, you should be proud of me as a student.. :)

And tonight, I am crying...

2005-08-03T11:07:00.000-07:00

... Crying as a sentimental fool, for the two dead fish that my friends had, because one of them had to watch the other die.

... Crying for a life long lost, as the realization that my childhood and its magic is history hit me, and as those people whom I looked upto and believed always would be there, are dying, like fallen flowers.

... Crying in fear and desperation, as I feel lonely without people around me and feel too proud to ask for company, and not wanting to be rejected, I again withdraw to my shell...

... Crying in exasperation, as my friend Amelie promised something, chided a skeptical me for not trusting, and went off blissfully with other plans... And now, I do not trust to that extent, any more...

... Crying nostalgically, as I miss the monsoon in my native land, and the only link that connects me to it is the book "Chasing the Monsoon" and the Jampot rains.

... Crying in desperation, as my friend had her birthday today and I didn't even get her a card, let alone a present and missed her cake cutting in the mess...

... Crying in shame, because the child in me points an accusing finger everyday and reminds me that I am not what I could have been, would have been, should have been.

... Crying in helplessness, as I saw the one person in campus, who might have understood and experienced all my dark moods and sides and who would have made a good friend, but as of now a person about whom I will be writing " It was not nice not knowing you" in the yearbook, and seeing him too looking back, but never spoke a real word with each other, never ever swapped war stories, and now one more day gone, one more day wasted, by not knowing him.

I am crying for everything I should have done but didn't, should have forged but neglected, should have upheld but thrown away.

I wish I see better dreams.

Rants.. Raves..

2005-08-02T13:23:00.001-07:00

The worst thing about blogging is the lack of privacy, and the fact that people who generally matter in your life take a stand on what you blog/not blog. Now that my mother has sniffed out my old blog, I am shut shop there.

Why I do not want my family to read/comment on my blog:

My blog is me unedited. In front of the family, you invariably has to tone down a lot. I want atleast one place to be myself without fearing sensure from parents or peers. Thanks mom, for spoiling it for me.

My parents do not understand my world. Sad, but true. Sadder is the fact that they donot understand the fact that they cannot understand my world.

Making partial judgement on issues which one have not witnessed or have any knowledge about sucks big time. No exceptions.

I would have been ok with my mom reading my blog, but not telling me that she is reading my blog and commenting on what has been written here so that I could have continued this self talk. I blog not for my parents to see. This is as intrusive as some arbit person opening your bathroom door when you are taking a bath.

Guess I need some more EI group sessions... :)

Goodbye old blog.. .I loved you... and I will always miss you.. .

Inspired - by the raven who barks

2005-08-02T13:23:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since I had gone to a person's blog, much less read one back to back. A series of arbit reactions - or should I call them being driftwooded through life? - led me to the blog of a bloke who left a comment in my previous posts.

Knowing that he is from my friendly neighbourhood school piqued my curiosity. So did the obvious indications that he is aware of the canine species. So did the fact that he looks like one of the juniors in my committee - may be a relative?

So, on the night of a cultural show for juniors, ignoring the frayed nerves of my batchmates, stubbonly forgetting about the readings and quiz the next day - hey, when else to take a break than the time the entire world wants a piece of you ? - I methodically went through the blog, line by line, angst by angst, went through three years of his life.

Did I say angst? In his blog was the recurring theme of sadness, of loss, and yet, a sense of equanimity in the face of all. In that was a call for help, and the hand that was stretched out for help had it's talons ready to kill anyone who dared to venture near.

Finding such a common thread through the blog, atleast through his better posts, set me thinking. I went back to my blogs, to find what was my recurring emotion. I was able, to find a thread running through these posts. And in my poetry blog too, the emotions are of the same hue, of the same tone.

I thought about the times when the few bloggers I like to revist blog. All of their good posts are connected by a common emotion. And the emotions are mostly dark, and some are positively depressing.

Is it that our blogs allow us to express a part of us that, according to us is less than perfect? A part, due to exposure to those who love us, will be a burden on our loved ones? A part which may make us more sentimental - and weak, my friend, is the corollary of that emotion according to us the society - or more mad?

In our blogs, we are free to be what we want to be. We can cry out for help, as I have done many a times, and was once pulled out of a very toxic relationship - toxic like a psychedelic drug, sold with the statutory warning on the cover and giving you all the highs you need, but when withdrawn, leaves you a snivelling wreck - by a doctor who was in Canada - whom I am never going to meet .

I can tell my friends what I may have difficulties in admitting in real world. I can be retrospective as much as I want. When I convert my life into a size 12 font, I learn perspective, and looking back, I know that I will be unscathed, yet again, ready to enjoy life.

As for those people whom I meet only via a URL, I am free to redefine myself. I do not have to put on perfume or dress up, I do not have to pout or sniff, or even scream. I wait here, secure in the knowledge that they will eventually drop in, take their share of my life from this common pool, and if inclined, will leave something of theirs back.

20050729 - His fav word is Moron...

2005-08-02T13:21:00.001-07:00

People come in all types. Sometimes if you are particularly unlucky, people like Mat-Hur end up being in your life.

Mat-Hur's like a nice cocaine addiction. Being with him has its kicks - oh, you should listen when he is arguing; dissecting facts and making sense out of nonsense. A strong ally to have on your side during all the case taking times, a person who enjoys the beauty of good food and better ambiance, someone who is a closet poet who has an amazingly sensitive side to his works...

But tell this to anyone, or even to me; and chances are that you will not escape unscathed. For this is the guy who is the epitome of all the characteristics which have made mothers, sisters, girlfriends and the rest of the female populace go "Boys!! [ sigh ] " over the history of mankind.

To state my case :

What do you call a guy who blindfolds you as part of a class exercise and take you bang on to a metal pole and make you bang your head against it, just to see if you will sense your way out??

And when that happens, looks more sheepish than a sheep and give a cho chweet embarrassed smile that melt your heart so much that you instantaneously forgives him?

What about a guy who systemically tries to meddle in the love life - or the lack of it - in his friends life?

And that too when those friends are of the dragon type who can scorch you with their words; but in MAt-Hur's case, they just roll their eyes and smile apologetically at one another - apologizing for the ditzy nature of Mat-Hur.

MatHur is a saga, the stories doesn't end. Watch this space for more 'Chronicles of Mat-Hur', or how the 'Empire Strikes Back' at him...

20050727 - The Group, the Prof, the buzzer and the room with the view

2005-08-02T13:21:00.000-07:00

I am involved in a community project now. It seems that the entire universe is conspiring to take me out of my relationship phobia. When I came to XLRI, the only prayer that I had was that I should never fall in love here. I did not want my heart to get broken and then withdraw into a hard shell, turning bitter and disillusioned.

Then, I got to meet some really nice people. Good friends ready to hold hands, give a hug, lend ears and play agony uncles. Not exactly friends - well, you know what I mean - who are incredibily kind and help me to slow down and take it easy. Teachers who perceive your needs and allow you to signup for courses midway, and hold your hand and take you out of depression. Gal pals who are fantabulously non judgemental, good fun to be with and to share the past hurts, who hug you and help you leave all hurts in the past.

For a long, long time, I was afraid of love and loving other people. I tended to weight it out -how much will I get back, how long will it last, what will be my emotional investment...

Guess what? Having a protective shield across you really helps. I needed people around me, and there were souls who saw that they need to be there and refused to go away and stayed put, people to whom I am extremely grateful. Friends who egg you on to go smooch life on the lips in front of everyone, not fearing rejection .

I am ready to love myself and others; without calculating the margins involved in the transactions.

I am back to what I have been. What I would like to be.

And I thank you all for that.

20050721 - Mintu

2005-08-02T13:20:00.000-07:00

Mintu is a sweet kid, all of 24 years and a goofy smile. A group project and an obsessive prof conspired to bring us together, and now a days, I spend more time in Mintu's room than in mine.

The advantages are many. His room overlooks green, green and more green; while mine looks out to the bathroom of next wing. The room is always cool, and enterprising neighbors always will have something to drink. He is very laidback and calm, the perfect antidote for my frayed nerves when the 11th hour panic wrt submissions set in.

He is also a person with whom you can discuss jeans, songs - he has a fundoo collection -, dogs - he hates them, unlike me - life, books, Harry Potter, Uma Turman, Johnny Depp - no Mintu, Matt Damon is NOT gay! - , movies, and what not. He is free therapy, a tranquilizer without side effects. He is also my Hindi tutor, explaining the songs verbatim when Begum Aktar and Gulam Ali bare their souls from the speakers.

Its also fun to just look at Mintu, just for the sake of it, so that the sweet thing that he is start feeling a bit uncomfortable. Then you cannot but help smile when he dissects whatever you have been thinking about - and then decided against advising him - accurately and give you earnest assurances about when and how he is going to do it or not do it.

On these days of summer heat, Mintu is like a cool pool, surrounded by shady trees and full of clear water and gold fishes.

20050629 My Values

2005-08-02T13:19:00.000-07:00

A result of having to study ethics.. here goes why these are big with me. Feel free to comment on them.

Truthful to myself: I need to know what I do and why I do it. This single value is the cornerstone for the rest of them.

Freedom: I believe in freedom – to grow as an individual, to think, to explore your abilities. And I believe in others enjoying them too.

Dignity: I expect myself to maintain my dignity. I do not believe in degrading myself or others based on their cast, sexual orientation, gender & economic level.

Acceptance: I believe in acceptance of different POVs even if I donot believe in them.

Faith: In myself and others

Flexibility: For me, it is acceptance in action. And making martinis out of lemons.

Forgiveness: I believe in forgiving others and myself of things done and not done – and moving on.

Responsibility: I am responsible for my actions – good, and most importantly, bad.

Looking at this list, I am struck by the strong streak of individualism that runs through them. More important than love, more important than family...

For I believe that unless you believe in yourself, nobody else can. And unless the individual units are strong, the society crumbles.

Making this list and comparing it with that of other people have let me learn a lot about myself.

So, what are your values?

20050619 War of Words

2005-08-02T13:18:00.000-07:00

I have been touring like a minister during election time. Relatives, family friends, friends - you name it, I have been to it.

Generally, most of the visits are boring, barring those where I get to talk with youngsters. Else the talk usually goes like this:

Host(H) : Tea?

Me (M) : Nope. Also no coffee or milk please.

H : Milk, then? ( rushes to the kitchen without waiting for an answer)

M : Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!! ( runs behind her)

Her duty as a hostess supposedly done, they talk with my parents, and the next nanosecond, I grab a book/magazine/newspaper/ticket foil - ok, may be NOT a ticket foil - and start reading.

Another headache is the " isn't she getting married? " game. I grit my teeth and bare my fangs which they mistake as a shy ( WTF?? ) smile and proudly proclaim it to my delighted mom, while I chant voodoo spells to make that person a deaf-mute.

This evidently makes my mom make another go for my marriage.

MoM: Shall I start looking for a guy?

Me: No.
MoM: I will get you a nice guy who doesn't drink or smoke... Or go to pubs or discos or parties...... a nice sweet boy and who is ready to settle in Kerala.

Me: No way!! ( WTF?? She is planning to get my SUCH a guy?? A nincompoop?? And Who want to settle in Kerala in the midst of 1000 people who want to tell me how to lead my life and make sure that I do it?? )

MoM: ( to dad ) Seee!!! She has stopped listening to us!!!!

Me : I am going to run away. It seems you guys are tired of me [ thanks to all the mega serials for the following dialogue ] Seems like I'm a burden to you guys.... Sniff!!

Dad : ( to MoM) Stop bugging her... She is mature enough to decide when she should marry. ( To me, so that Mom wont feel that he is siding with me) And YOU start listening to your MOM!!! You have to get married sometime you know....

Me: (meekly) Yes dad... I will dad... ( changes the TV channel)

Mom & me start the remote control war. Which I tactfully end by moving to Animal Planet or Tom & Jerry show - which we both like. The net few hours are spend oohing and aahing the dogs, cats, parakeets, leopards, tigers, fish, monkeys and horses, or laughing at Tom & Jerry; with fond reminiscences of our eight ex- official pets.

The problem with me and my mom is that we are too much like each other in our stubbornness. Mom thinks that she knows the best, I think that I do a better job at it. She is tenacious ( which helped that daughter of a 4th standard educated coolie to be a Bank Manager ) and so am I. She is talkative, and so am I, but to a lesser extent - I am my dad's kid too, I need my share of silence.

I cannot stand my mom most of the times - and she has told me too many times that she prefer the 3 year old cute baby I was to this boisterous young woman that I am to take it as a joke anymore - and she too feels the same. But we both have this fierce love for each other too. The moment someone doesn't sing my paeans my mom hisses at them like a mother cobra protecting her eggs, and the moment someone slights my mom I bare my fangs like a hungry lioness ready for the kill.

I have never answered her question to her face, but yes mom, I love you in my own special way.

And no, this doesn't mean that I will start listening to you from now on.