Naukrishuda... Engaged to Work!!!

At 7 pm on 30th December,2006, I got my first job. Couldn't think of a better new year present. I'm employed... and the feeling is yet to sink in...

I wore my first executive suit yesterday for the interview. I think I looked quite smart...although my hair refused to submit to my will and looked as unruly as ever. After 4 long hours, the results were announced..."They want to make an offer for placement to only one candidate..." and called me in. At that moment, it felt surreal, supernatural. It was as if I was detached from my body, and I could see the whole scene playing before my eyes as if I was a spectator. I could see my still-well-pressed suit, a muffler hanging absurdly under my ear on one shoulder, my hair standing in all directions (I discovered that mist makes my hair frizzy..or should I say frizzier..) , looking utterly woebegone (that can happen when you're sitting in an ice box, without wearing any woollens, for over 4 hours).The people from the company smiling at me, asking me if I wanted to accept their offer right now or needed time to think. I could see myself blinking stupidly and saying something about the placement people knowing it better..and then saying "Of course... yes... I want the job".I could hear my voice saying, "Thank you"...my hand was frigid when I shook hers ,and she said "Welcome.... to the company".

A Trip To Paradise

Imagine this- its 7:30 in the morning in the beginning of January,the peak of winters.There is absolutely no mist, just a few rays of sunlight falling on an endless row of snowy peaks, bathing them in a golden hue.Now imagine yourself actually standing in the balcony of your room, before this awesome wonder of nature....

This was just one of the amazing sights we saw on our trip to Mussourie last winters. There were reports of a snowfall in Dhanaulti, just above Mussourie, and 9 of us made a spur of the moment plan to go to see the snow.And so, one misty January early morning, we set out to discover Nature at her best.

I could see God's hand in every mountain, every green glade, every valley,every waterfall that I saw on the trip.We had snow fights in Dhanualti. It was such huge fun.At one point, all the 4 guys in our group covered
me from top to bottom in snow and made me stand there posing like a Christmas tree for a few photos!!


We went to two waterfalls- saw one by moonlight, the other in the afternoon, when we waded into the ice cold water!! Wherever we went, we were lucky to find absolutely no crowd at all.In fact, at Kempty Falls, we were the only tourists there, and the entire village was in pitch darkness, except for the bright moon and the clear sky filled with stars. We were the only people who saw the beautiful falls by moonlight, with the moon shimmering and shining in the water as if the pool was filled with electricity.It was stunning.I swear I have never seen so many stars in all my life. They stood twinkling merrily in the vast,velvety,inky blue sky, with Orion shining bright.And the silence that surrounded us only added to the charm.

All along the way from Dhanaulti to Mussoorie, we saw the panoramic view of majestic, snow capped mountains, dipping valleys, steps cut out of sheer rock where hardy farmers tried to eke out a living for themselves. Rustic, old worldly cottages, a few scattered barns, perhaps a well or two.. the only signs of habitation in those rolling dales. As we travelled on those winding, snake like roads, we were dizzy with joy and excitement (and admittedly coz we were pukey as well!!!). Breathing in deeply the fresh mountain air, feeling on top of the world (at that height, it wasn't a far guess anyway!), overawed by the sheer beauty surrounding us....

We reached Mussourie late in the evening. A whole lot of reconnaisance later, we ended up taking two large, extremely comfortable rooms for just Rs.500. We were helped by the facts that the hotel was brand new (we were among its first customers), that we told them we were students from IIT and would get them a lot of future customers, and since it was officially off-season, they were happy to have us anyway.We had warm beds, extra quilts and mattresses and sheets and pillows, and so (naturally) we spent all night staying up, enjoying ourselves thoroughly !!! We spent the next morning walking down the main road, seeing a few shops, and generally wandering about. We left after brunch (it was too late to call it a breakfast by the time we had it) for some arbit park sort of a place, and from there to what someone told us was a lake, but was nothing more than a concrete puddle, the size of an average fountain,with a few attitude filled ducks, who thought (and rightly so) that they were the bosses of the place. A quack, snap and splash later, we were done with the place. One of our classmates had told us about a hitherto-undiscovered- by- the- multitude waterfall. And so we made our way there.

And we were not disappointed. It was clean, unspoilt and serene... no chattering crowds, no pushing and shoving to see the water (and ending up in it too, what with all the jostling). Since it was high noon, we decided to step into the water. And it was bone chilling!!! The water was mossy green and the pebbles slippery. Slipping and sliding, we somehow managed to walk across the pool to the far corner where there was a cave from where more water was coming. We sat in the clear, winter sun, warming our frozen feet, with the bubbling, murmuring stream flowing by. When finally it was time to go, we walked along an abandoned dam, peering into the rocky,grassy, arid pit on its side.

As we finally left the hills after several hairpin bends and many a queasy stomach, we all looked back for one final sight of the proud mountains, with a glowing sun setting behind them....a perfect parting.....


Food For Thought

Ever since we shifted to Bangalore, Ma has taken a rest from her job - teaching maths to school children. And suddenly now she has a whole lot of time on her hands and doesn't quite know what to do with it. A busy bee, never to be seen lying around doing nothing, Ma has decided to devote her time to applying her culinary skills. In fact, she has become a compulsive cook. At any given time of the day there is somthing bubbling, simmering, frying or baking in the kitchen.

And if I am at home, its a food bonanza. The first thing Ma does when I come home is to list all my favourite dishes and draw up a schedule for them !!! By the end of the day, my stomach is groaning in protest , and Ma is showing no signs of relenting. In fact, she's just started and is looking forward to a whole week of cooking some 100 dishes. No point looking to Dad for support. Although he himself eats hardly anything, he gets all caught up in the flurry and becomes enthu about the whole affair and actually contributes his own ("I'll make my special fried rice today!!!").

At breakfast Ma discusses the menu for lunch.
At lunch she discusses the menu for dinner.
At dinner she discusses the menu for the next day's breakfast.
Each meal has at least 3 different kinds of dishes.
There is a brunch between breakfast and lunch.
And a "high tea" between lunch and dinner.

My sister raises a strong protest ("No fried stuff for me...and NO Ma I will NOT have a third helping...Of course its tasty but how much can one girl eat anyways???"). So Ma has unofficially adopted two of my school friends who're in Bangalore and plies them with food every time they come to visit (which is oftener than me!!!!). No wonder Ma is a hot fave with all my and Pree's friends. Its amazing how much food can be cooked in one day and by just one woman!!

So much love, so much affection, so much enthusiasm and care goes into the preparation of each delicacy. Standing and grinding the idli batter for hours.. sifting, mixing, boiling to the right consistency.. baking till its just right.. beating till its soft and fluffy.. stirring tirelessly to make sure it doesnt burn.... who else but Ma could do all this just for the pleasure of seeing others relishing those exquiste flavours, savouring the aroma. She hardly eats anything herself, but fills herself with the satisfaction of seeing me bloating before her very eyes as I take that extra helping which I promised myself I wouldn't take...

There's magic flowing through Ma's hands..and the magic comes from her heart... Love you Ma!!!

Single Belle

From the rantings of a demented mind:

Single belle, single belle,
Single till this day.
Santa please just give me a guy
On this Christmas day.

A dashing and handsome beau,
With a funny,charming way.
Together we will go
Every every where.

True love's all I need
To keep my spirits bright.
Santa Claus please pay some heed
And bring my gift tonight.

Hey..
Single belle, single belle
Single all the way.
Santa Claus is bringing my guy
On his one horse sleigh....

Ushering In A New Day...

Its 5:00 am. I'm semi awakened quite lovingly by my phone alarm which sends out a muffled tring tring from under my pillow and somehow manages to vibrate my entire head from underneath. I switch it off and resume my sleep, quite unperturbed , when all of a sudden I receive a rude shock... Usher somehow blasts his way into the room at full volume. My first thought is that its all a weird dream and will get over soon. But as Usher continues to blow my eardrums to bits, I realise its Ash's phone alarm. These new gadget phones- n number of fancy features, including personalised alarms which manage to alarm everyone but the possessor. While Usher continues to ruin my sleep, Ash sleeps on apparently undisturbed. A few minutes and several pleas from me later, she awakens and switches it off. I sigh in relief... but not for long...

By this time, Usher has been ushered out by two new voices - one coming from a nearby mosque and one from a nearby Gurudwara. While the two stentorian voices battle it out in what seems like an Inter-faith Prayer Challenge, matching their tonsils and stretching their voice boxes in long drawn out calls to the Almighty, I give up all hopes of sleeping and say a little prayer of my own for regaining peace. My prayers seem to have been unheard among the much louder and more elaborate ones in the vicinity... coz the voices have now turned from two to three. The pujari in the Saraswati Temple has issued a bugle call of his own. Literally. A loud blast from the ceremonial conch signals his entry into the Battle of Vani-pat. It seems like pujari ji has a throat infection, because he switches on a cassette of Mata ke bhajans in all the latest tunes instead. At this point, the atmosphere is rent with three different calls to Him. God alone knows what He heard in the cacophony. I give up trying to make sense and wake up instead. Suddenly, studying for the exam to be held in 2 hours seems like a good plan...

I'm greeted at the breakfast table with a hollow and dull "Jai Mata Di" by Harry. Poor thing slept at 3am, with the night session of Mata ke bhajans ending at that time and woke up at 5:30 with the morning session of MkB's. As we both discuss who the winner might be, I reflect that silence is probably the best prayer. At least He'd be able to hear it...

Wintery Thoughts



I love the winter sun. There's nothing I find more relaxing, yet stimulating, than the warm winter sun falling on my back, with a cool breeze playing with my hair, and a nip in the air that makes the atmosphere seem alive...

We had the first mist of the winters yesterday. The first sight I saw when I looked out of my window in the morning was a world blanketed in pristine whiteness. It was as if the mist had cut off all the noise. The silence was so complete that for a moment the world seemed to have stopped still, and I had the illusion that I was suspended in white space. And then through the mist came a tinkling of bells...probably from the Saraswati Mandir. And the spell was broken...

There's something about the crystal clear night sky in the winter that leaves me breathless and awestruck. Orion is my favourite constellation. Every night I look up into the vast expanse and immediately spot Orion in the star strewn heavens. There's an unexplicable majesty and beauty in the Hunter, with the belt of three stars marking its presence among all others. I want to be like Orion - one who stands out from the rest, seeking my Destiny and seizing it where it lies... okay getting a little too philosophical...

Un-Presentable


Through with our final presentations for the semester project today...
What can I say.. it feels like a load is physically off my head... feel free... floating on air...
However, today I got a fresh insight on the sham that they call A Presentation.

The questions were ridiculous. For a student who has worked for over 4 months, trying to figure out complex equations, model complicated and intricate shapes, optimize, factorize, predict the nature of obscure data and make difficult programs in hitherto unknown softwares, to be asked something as trivial as "Reference number 7 does not give the year of publication" or "Listen me,'Great gratitude' is wrong English" (right, like YOUR English is the right one!) is degrading and downright insulting.

When the esteemed panel didn't have a clue what was going on (they were busy having chai-biscuit), they bounced back during the question round with the above mentioned bouncers. It was hit wicket everytime. By some chance of Fate, I was spared the ignominy of being asked if I knew my referred authors personally. But there were others who were subjected to the torture. It was like a pack of hounds hounding a goat just waiting to be slaughtered.... painful is the word to describe it.

Add to it a certain back biter who went crying to his guide complaining about how his time was cut short (he extended his time by over 10 minutes) and how someone else was given more time (she ran through her slides, I swear!!)..and we had a day of revelations.

As it happened, I got off very well comparatively. Though I was asked a few questions about twins and Tanzania and the darkest regions of Africa... I am yet to figure out where Tanzanian twins came up in my discussion, but as long as I wasn't asked about reference number 3.421.....

My God !!!!

Yup! I talk to God. Don't ask me why this sudden spiritual streak in me...but it just so happens that I have a God I can talk to....

Who listens to all I say and doesn't talk back ;
Who gives me consolation without me asking for it ;
Who hears me out patiently when I'm down, then always pulls me up again, without even letting me know ;
Who says the right things without speaking a word ;
Who always tells me what to do when I'm unsure of myself ;
Who points me in the right direction, but doesn't push me to follow it ;
Who always supports me, even if I end up being wrong ;
Who sees my tears and lets them run... but gives me a shoulder to cry on ;
Who hears my laughter, and joins me in the celebrations ;
Who loves me unconditionally, even when I don't give it back ;

My God is all around me... in the people that I know and love. My parents, my friends who have stood by me for years and always will. I know this sounds ultra senti and soppy, but I truly believe in God.

I have discovered the power of God ... Coz frankly, nothing else could have completed that damn project of mine in time!!!!

Chowmein For Breakfast...

8.55: Entered the mess late as usual... just to discover a mile long line starting from the door and extending away beyond the scope of my vision. As I joined the column with an empty (and semi-dirty) plate,I was informed of the presence (or rather the absence) of chowmein for breakfast and hence the formation of a queue of hungry,impatient girls who were getting late for class. Some were panicky ("I have a quiz!!"), some impatient ("Bairaji, Chowmein!!"), some quite nonchalant (those with classes from 10 and beyond), and yet others like me were resigned to their fate.

9.00: As we stood there,waiting for what seemed like an eternity, we hungrily eyed the lucky few who were a bit early and had piled their plates with the elusive noodles (the early chicks got the worms). Noone dared to leave their place in the line, trusting Murphy's Law to work its wonders (the moment you leave, Bairaji would enter with the chow). A daring few took the risk of nipping out to get a piece of toast, and then nipped back in, chomping hungrily.

9:05:... and the clock's ticking away, but no chowmein to be even smelt. As the 9 o'clockers slowly disappeared, having had just bread, I stuck it out yet.

9:10: I decided to give it up and have my (burnt) toast. Just as I finished with my paltry meal, who else but Bairaji (motivated by Murphy) made his grand re-entry, welcomed with relieved sighs by the few stolid ones who'd stuck it out in the line till then. As I passed the tureen of chow, I could not let my efforts go to waste, and decided to have a helping at the last moment.

9.15: And me shovelling down a spoonful of stringy, half cooked, over vinegared noodles, wondering what I had done to deserve Chowmein For Breakfast....

Overheard....

Sometimes you overhear some gems without intending to. A few selections from my treasure chest of overheard conversations:

Girl to her boyfriend, on the phone(Time:00:00hrs, Venue:Hostel corridor, on a night when we're trying to study for an exam due that day) : "Keep na... no you keep na... no no... you keep na first... (giggle)... keep na..I won't keep no... You have to keep first, then only na.... hey, keep na...."and so it continues.......aaaaaaaaaarggghhhhh.... Please SOMEONE keep na !!!

Girl to (presumably) her boyfriend , on the phone (Time:02:00hrs , Venue: Balcony near Water Cooler, also known as Panghat): "Arre, why didn't you wash your shirt?? There was such a big spot on it..I felt like just washing it then and there. Tomorrow, give me all your shirts that need to be washed, I'll do them for you..." how about MY clothes too???

Typical "Tere Naam" type guy with oily hair tied in a pony, accompanied by perfectly matched girl in latest styled suit, sit in an adjoining bench at Nesky, while I am making futile attempts at last minute studying for a test to be held in an hour: "Main tujhse bohat love karta hun... (holds her hand)... pehle jaake dekhne de yahan khane peene ka kya system hai, tu baith yahan pe ...(gives me a look over, probably making sure his girl is safe.Girl spends next 10 minutes staring at me while I peer into the depths of the two pages held in my hand, while discreetly looking for an escape route.Guy returns in a while)...Main na kabhi apne dukh ko jaahir nahi hone deta tere saamne...tera ek bhi aansu mujhse bardaash nahi hoga...(by this time I'm red up to my ears, and collecting my stuff in a hurry. Guy is apparently disturbed by the flurry of activity and pauses to give me a nasty look. I cease disturbing immediately. A few uncomfortable minutes later, girl decides its time to leave)..Mere jaane ka waqt ho gaya hai...Nahi tum 5 baje tak aj mere saath hi rahogi..nahi..haan..nahi..haan... mujhe jaana hai jaan.." I pick up my bag and literally run. So much for my studying...embarassing!!!!!

Overheard while running to a class, late as usual: " Don't tell me that assignment was due yesterday, I thought it was due today, so thought I'd submit it tomorrow!!"..." Arre nahi, it was due day before yesterday, but noone did, so extended till yesterday, again noone did, so extended till today, and I daresy noone will, so......" yup, IITians, punctual to the dot!!

My classmate consoling another one:"Tensionize mat ho!!" philosophizing on Life and coining new terms in the same breath...

Project Frustration

Okay, right away let me tell you this one is not going to be the usual cheery post. I'm depressed and frustrated right now, and just needed to write it all down. My semester project is going absolutely nowhere. I have bene trying for the past hour to get my code to work, but the computer absolutely refuses to concur with my logic..in fact its still running a seemingly endless loop even as I type this.My professor expects a lot from me, and he admitted he wasn't over the moon with my performance. I told him very honestly that my codes don't work. He was quite sympathetic..he always has been. But I've been feeling really low because I could see his disappointment in me. The algorithm is clear in my mind.. I know exactly what is to be done...If only I knew how to do it....

The wall before me I blankly stare
My mind is numb, full of despair ;
A screen full of zeros..without end..
Mirrors my life, what fate portends
An endless loop I see day after day
Nothing works, to my dismay ;
Sad eyes follow me everywhere,
"I've let him down", my heart says...
So much to do, and don't know how
So little time, nothing left now ;
Supposed to detect a face
How??when I've lost my pace...
MATLAB haunts me in the night,
Can't work try as I might;
How I wish this was all a dream
And I could wake up with a scream...

Travel Travails

There have been several memorable journeys that I've made by bus all over the country.. but particularly from Roorkee to Delhi this past year. Let me share a few gems...

  • On our very first trip back home from Roorkee, there were 5 of us, who could manage to find seats together right behind the driver's seat. Having stuffed ourselves and our respective pieces of luggage uncomfortably into the seats, we prepared ourselves for a long ride. No sooner had we started than the bus blew its horn- and blew our ears off. As it happened, it was a reverse horn (it blasted inside the bus, not outside)... and our driver was one trigger happy maniac who thought every minute not spent blowing our heads off was a minute wasted. To add to our woes, the road up ahead was blocked, and the driver decided to make his own road across the fields (what we called "the Veer-Zaara route"). Jolted, bruised, badly shaken (and stirred) and with our head now split into a thousand shrapnels, we bumped back onto the road, only to discover the driver had taken us in the wrong direction for some miles, and so we backtracked again to the join where we left the road, now mercifully clear of all traffic. A tiring 6 hours later, we arrived at ISBT, Delhi only to be drenched in rain,with no umbrella, carrying tons of baggage, stranded in the middle of the road, coz the bus decided to unload the passengers a little early - perhaps the driver got bored of not being able to blow his own trumpet (aka The Horn) for the past 15 minutes. Somehow, we manged to squelch our way through the mulch and reached home safe n sound.

  • Then there was the time that Preeti and I were returning from Delhi. In the seats right in front of ours were three Tere Naam kind of guys, with the traditional jhataak shirts and thick Haryanvi accent. One of them was a short guy, who kept cracking non-jokes and another one kept repeating those "jokes" for our benefit, accompanied by a laugh to indicate we do the same. Preeti and I decided to doze off ... anything to stop the torture. A few hours later, the bus stopped and we found that a canal had overflowed ahead and the roads were three feet deep in water.Our witty companions came up with a few inane comments, laughing all the while. The two of us just looked at each other and fell back resignedly. There was no electricity in the village we were passing through,and the driver had switched off all lights inside the bus to see better. Our bus was standing surrounded by water on all sides in the pitch black night, perfect silence encompassing us, when suddenly out of the gloom rose a wail - "Aashiq Banayaaaaa...Aashiq banayaaaaa...Aashiq banayaa aapne".... As we all froze in our seats, not knowing where the ghastly noise was coming from, our short companion of the front seat turned around and sang again. Still shell shocked and unable to react, we heard him continue into the second para. I guess the driver recovered first, and suddenly blew his horn. The spell was broken and we all heaved a collective sigh of relief as he raced the bus out of the water and speeded into Roorkee. As we got off the bus and into a rickshaw, Pree n I saw three hands waving at us from inside the bus... Adieu.

  • Then there was the time when Ash,Preeti and I were going to Delhi.The driver seemed to have lost all interest in driving and it seemed as if the bus was running on sheer will power - that too, ours. As we crawled on the highway at a speed of - 20.34 kph, we thought all we'd have time to do was get down at ISBT and catch a bus back to Roorkee.Sitting in the stifling heat, we lazily watched the clouds floating in the sky. Suddenly, the sky became overcast.It started raining heavily. Somehow it always rained when we were going home, no matter how sunny the day started out.And as if rejuvenated, our driver picked up speed. And boy, did he pick up speed. All the windows were blanketed by thick sheets of rain. The driver's windshield was a curtain of water, not a thing outside was visible. And our bus was now moving at the speed of over 90 kph.As we snaked our way in and out of the traffic, we felt as if we were riding an anaconda. At one particularly dicy turning, I plucked up courage to look at the driver's seat.. and found him sitting happily with his hands off the steering wheel and placed comfortably behind his head. I looked at my fellow passengers, most of whom were ashen faced and white knuckled as they clutched for support.In between, we were confronted by a railway crossing, which was mercifully closed. We paused for a brief interval, and everyone breathed deeply.A train rushed past (Amritsar to Ludhiana... why the hell was it here??). And as soon as the gate opened, we screeched on our way again. In less than an hour we covered what would normally have taken at least 2 1/2 hours. As the rain slowly pitter pattered into a drizzle, and then stopped, our driver again lost all enthu, but managed to sustain a steady pace, much slower. When we finally unboarded the bus, our legs were shaking and our minds still fresh with the terror of those few hours.

  • Recently, there were 8 of us together in the bus. As we fell into a fitful stupor, suddenly the speakers above us crackled into life "Rajuuu..pyaar mat kariyo..dil toot jaata hai". I managed to struggle upright in my seat, my mind bursting with questions - Who was Raju? What was his story? Who was giving him invaluable lessons of life?? And who turned on the speakers in the first place? As we listened on, we discovered a melodramatic saga of love lost and found, betrayal and anxiety, lovers separated by the cruel hands of fate and family, and brought together by Love.Needless to say,it was too much for us to bear.The protagonists were Raju and Sonali ."Raju...Sonali...Raju...Sonali...Raju....... Sonali...Raju...." accompanied by an uncommonly cheerful narrator "Wahan Sonali tadap rahi thi...toh yahan Raju"..." Mujhe galat mat samajhna Raju. Main abhi yeh sagai ki angoothi utaar ke Ravi ke munh pe fenkti hun"...."Sonali agar Raju ki na ho saki toh kisi ki nahi hogi"...."Aur Sonali ke Mummy Papa ne usse ghar pe kaid kar ke rakha..jaise ki par kata panchchi"..."Usnein apni bed ki chaadar balcony se girai aur utar kar bhaag chali apne Raju se milne"...."Sonali bed pe padi thi, uski nasein kati hui thi, aur uska khoon katra katara kar ke beh raha tha"..."Ab toh bas Raju hi ise bacha sakta hai"..."Sonali..Raju...Sonali...Raju...Sonali...Raju.."... and so it ended with Ravi becoming the best friend of the couple and the rest of the family showering their blessings upon the happy twosome.Punctuated by several crappy songs and other priceless gems of dialogues, the audio movie made an excellent travelling companion.... we were left breathless with laughter by the end of it... As it happened, we were accompanied by our very own "Raju"..Rajiv Batra of Fash-P fame, who actually started responding to the name Raju by the end of it.

Priceless times, priceless experiences... a treasure trove of memories... accompanied by a horn , a song and a movie... drenched in the dew drops of rain....

Live....

This one's dedicated to those who're feeling low, sad, depressed, frustrated or just plain irritated.It might be anger, it might be hopelessness, it might be failure or a broken dream... here's something which might help ... or irritate you further....

Dreams are dreams.. and some might not be true...
but that is no reason to feel so blue...
Coz no matter how bleak it may seem to you...
always remember, I've been there too...

You say,
"Hope to live as I die ever while...
but its easier to die rather than to live these days..."
What was it like before??
Was there a rainbow always?
there might have been better days..
but there are still better ones to come
All you need to do is wait some.

Anger pours out, frustration sways
you're willing to give it all up you say....
Stand awhile, and think about it,
Would you sacrifice all in a minute?
Why? coz you think you can't hold on?
Your legacy will last long after you're gone...
What do you want to leave behind?
Tears and sorrow... or joy divine?

You're hopeless, you think, "hell's the place to be"
If you ever need a reality check, you need to ask me
Remember the day you made me smile...
Or took time out to be with me a while...
Dyu realise the difference you've made in my life?
Dyu know you're my friend, and nothing more do I require?

"Things are harder than they ever were,
You won't even recognise me anymore."
Who do you need to say you're you
What you are, and what you do?
You're convinced its war everywhere...
I don't deny it.. its killing out there...
You are your own master, slave to none
There are still so many battles to be won...
You might lose sometimes, but hope abounds...
Coz what goes... always comes around...

"The easy way is to end this life..
or simply put , commit suicide."
Your life is for you to take...
Whatever you want, you can make...
Giving up is the easy way for sure
But is that all you have, and nothing more?
Don't you want to live and achieve...
Without your loved ones you leave...
You know you have so much to give..
So why not take a chance ....and Live?

Birdsong

Sitting alone, thinking about things,
I suddenly hear a bird sing....
Its voice holds innocence, a tender touch,
The serenity I seek so much....
I know not where its coming from,
I search for long.... and then some....
This birdsong so lovely, so real, so pure,
Is it divine? its not earthly for sure....
For where is there such clarity
in a world so full of disparity....
And so much heart put in every note,
when people are at each other's throats....
Every trill holds a promise, a hope
While through this darkness we grope....
To seek the truth... and find solace
This birdsong holds all in its pace....
And in this simple tune is held
A wealth of wisdom... faith upheld....
For while such beauty still exists,
Such ultimate joy, such pure bliss....
There is hope for better things yet,
Sorrow and disappointment I forget....
And as the last few notes fade away,
I thank God for giving me this day....

Random Observations

Walking back alone from the department at a stuffy 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I decided to slow down from my usual 29.37 kph (as Mo the statistician informs me) and see life around me. Its strange how much we miss in the usual hustle bustle of our daily lives. I found that out this afternoon.

I bid my goodbyes to Ash (who's decided 4 is too early to go back to the hostel, hence destination Nesky) and Preeti (who has been typing for the past two days to get her report done on time, hence destination Main CC) and start down the road towards SB.On my way, I make several observations...


* I see a small boy running down the road with a bright kite in his hands, the wind tugging hard at its string while the boy runs all the way down, laughing gaily. His bright smile and carefree laugh follow me all the way to the next turn in the road....


* I walk along enjoying the cool breeze that has suddenly sprung up... and just miss stepping on a huge snail and crushing it to certain death, besides ruining my shoes and my mood. I stop for a moment to heave a sigh of relief, and notice the intricate patterns on its shell, as if a brush has been dipped in myriad colours and painted across its back....


* I narrowly miss being run over by a crazy motorcyclist, who zips past singing "Bachna eh haseeno" at the top of his voice....


* A group of kids pass me by on cycles..it looks like they're out for a picnic. The first two cycles have plastic bags with cola bottles in them and I can distinctly make out a packet of chips peeking out from another bag. The rear of the group is brought up by a tiny boy sitting on a huge cycle, carrying an even tinier girl behind him. She shrieks with excitement as they all go flying down the steep slope and jump at the so called speed bump (which everyone by-passes anyways)....


* A cuckoo calls out from somewhere...followed by a racuous rendition of "Aapki Kashish" coming from Jawahar.I pause to listen as he relentlessly carries on till the middle of 1st para when someone mercifully strangles him....

* As soon as I enter SB, my attention is caught by a glint of yellow in the otherwise pale green grass. I stoop down to see a tiny, but valiantly bright golden flower, no more than a weed, pushing its way up from the ground. It paints a pretty picture,and somehow fiils my heart with a glow....

* As I walk along the corridors, there's a peaceful silence...everyone's either sleeping or in classes. A rainbow of colours is displayed in the form of multi hued clothes hanging out to dry...the floor is dappled with reds, greens, blues, pinks... the sunlight creates a kaleidoscope on the corridor floor and walls.As I pass through the corridor, I feel like I'm in a 70's technicolour movie dream sequence.

I finally enter my abode, my room and the first thing I see is a moth sitting on the window facing the door.I approach cautiously, but it flutters right into my face and then flutters out.Slightly shaken, I proceed to put a good end to an interesting afty with my regular siesta.....

Watch Out : My Association with The Illustrious...

Somehow, a lot of my acquaintances among the BTech guys happen to have one thing in common... they are all part of IIT-R's news magazine Watch Out!!. Now the hows and whys are beyond anybody's comprehension, but Watch Out members are considered to be the "Cool Ones" of the campus... although I don't concur.. 'coz Ash, Pree n I are missing from its ranks...

I have had a pleasant, if weird, association with the Who's Who of Watch Out!! this past year. Here I list them:

Sidharth Gupta: Chairman (2004-05)
The most popular guy in campus... everybody's idol ... every girl's crush (including certain friends of mine) ... a brilliant orator, a dynamic personality and a demi-god to boot... He's done everything from conducting quizzes and debates to participating in Fash-P to hosting Mr&Miss THOMSO... To probably being Mr.THOMSO himself... Ash tells me he's been "Mr.Elan" while he was in school in Delhi (I didn't know then, and I don't know now , whatever the hell that's supposed to mean) ...

And I was fortunate enough to know him because of my status as "A Fash-P Partner"... that's the community of those girls whose roomies were in Fash-P. My very own Ash being an integral part of the fash frat of IIT-R, I was privileged enough to have had the opportunity to know every last detail of his achievements, because the Fash-P gals never stopped raving about his virtues. He seemed quite inaccessible to us lower beings (namely Pree n Mee), owing majorly to the fact that whenever he was around, Ash wouldn't let us look that way ("Stop embarassing me!!")... although to be fair to her, we were actually pretty embarassing to be around, because our plans to meet him involved a complex strategy with Pree pretending to faint in his arms and me trying to get her off him, during which we would both get to see Him up close.... We shared several entertaining sessions chalking out our plans and mapping out a fool-proof execution. But as it turned out, on the fateful day, the event had to be cancelled owing to my absence from the scene of action due to unforseeable circs. However, I discovered to my absolute and complete astonishment that Sidharth actually knew me, and even had the courtesy to come up and say "Hi !" to me. I almost fainted that day (the plan could yet come to fruition!!), but caught myself just in time. From that day on, we acknowledged each other whenever we met, and I found him to be a courteous, polite and moderately funny guy... quite a nice person, actually. My association with him started and ended with my being a Fash-P partner... I must remember to thank Ash for her good fashion sense...

Keerthi Raghavan: Chief Editor (2004-05)
Another ultra successful, super intelligent, highly popular guy... a Black Eye (no, not a member of the band)... got through IIM-A ... blasted his way through the GRE and got into Stanford or some other equally prestigious place.... I got my first glimpse of this exalted being when Mo (his own para follows) pointed him out to me by first shouting out "Hi Keerthi !!" when he passed us by on an unlit road, and then told me..."That was Keerthi.He's a Maddu"... My being Tamil and in IIT-R and still not knowing KR was too much for Mo to digest... but my pseudo-Tamil identity had prevented me from attending the annual Tamil Meet (it involved introducing myself in front of a crowd of around 100 Maddu guys.. in Tamil.. and also hold an intelligent conversation with some of them.. a nightmare for me), and so I had apparently missed a golden chance to meet Him personally.
As Fate would have it, I chanced upon another opportunity to observe him up close pretty soon when he came to conduct a quiz in our department. I had been informed by Ash that he was into quizzing bigtime, and so naturally I wasn't interested. But just to discover what the fuss was about ("Who is this guy after all?") and also because we were under threat from our seniors and profs to build up an audience, we traipsed into the Civil Audi where the quiz was in progress. As we sat down in a strategic spot (as much near the door as it is possible to sit without appearing desperate to get out), KR was in action just below the stage, welcoming the Director or someone. Having finished the welcoming, with great style he climbed onto the stage... and in the hush, a great ripping sound echoed across the hall... as it turned out, he'd caught his pant on a nail and ripped it right through. Since the audience amounted to just about 10 people besides the dignitaries, there were no shouts of laughter, although Pree n I had a tough time controlling our giggles while Ash silently observed his moment of discomfort.. but to his credit, he carried on with confidence and panache and won my approval (which amounts to nothing, but still...). The pant-tearing incident made him seem much more human, and I liked him much the better for it. Now he seemed not so unreachable... but unlike Ash, I was unable to recognise him in anything other than a blue Tee till the very last day...

Mohneet Singh Ahuja: Chairman (2006-07)
Okay, now that I see it... this association is also through Ash... although Mo and I were together in French class as well, I didn't really know him. My first meeting with this guy was when we went to get ourselves registered for the course... a Sardar dashed in quoting his CGPA as being 8 (which it wasn't)... and almost fell over when he heard mine . The next I hear of him is from Ash (the Sardar connection) and from Gupta, who turned out to be best buddies with this crazy Surd. One thing led to another and soon Mo n I became friends. I learned that he was in Watch Out!! much later... by then it was too late for me to disassociate myself from Watch Out!! 'coz half my friends were inevitably from there.And so I was stuck with having a completely random and arbit guy for a friend.. or so I thought.....

Mohneet turns out to be another popular guy around campus. Everyone seems to know him, or at least recognise him. When you're walking with this guy, its not unusual for him to be waving to half the junta that walks by, and unlike other people, his waves and hello's are reciprocated. The possessor of a weird sense of humour, a killer wit ('coz the victims of his wit hardly ever survive the torture) an amazingly warped sense of his purpose on earth (which he proclaims is to spread his theories, none of which make any sense) and a split personality ("Hello, I'm Navneet, Mohneet's identical twin who lives in London and is 1 second older than Mo"). And just when I was beginning to think what's special about this guy... it turns out that he's the next Chairman of Watch Out!! .. and a founding member of Intelligent Sardars of India ( based in London)... Do I dare say anything more...

Pulkit Arya: Executive Editor-in-Chief (2006-07)
I don't have a clue what the post means, but it sure sounds impressive. I have a suspicion that Pulkit, or Poochie as he's unlovingly known, is supposed to do a lot of work. Another popular guy... unassuming, easy going, laidback and with an utterly devastating sense of humour. Funnily enough, I first met Pulkit on the dance floor during THOMSO. Pree n Pulki matched their steps, while I tried to keep Gupta from treading on my toes. My next sighting of Pulkit was also on the dance floor, this time SB's Bhawan day. The previous scene was repeated with exactly the same characters. Meetings with him were much more frequent after that, with Ash joining in. And one fine day, I find out Pulkit is another Watch Out!! guy and on his way to the upper echelons of the magazine. In fact, I was recently informed that Poochie's the one who writes everything on the THOMSO website... something he isn't given credit for...So here's some mention of his achievement... don't expect anything more...

That's when I began to wonder if Ash, Pree n I held a special attraction for Watch Out!! people... as it is we're a pretty attractive threesome...

Ankit Jindal: Chief Finance Co-ordinator (2006-07)
Jindal.... I met him in an unusual way. Gupta came up with an arbit guy during THOMSO, to sign up for "Blind Date", a stupid game which was utterly useless. Jindal turned out to be a pretty nice guy, who loved saying "Crap!!"... just hearing him say that in his disgruntled and disgusted way made Pree n my day. Jindal running helter skelter to and from meetings kind of revealed the fact that he was yet another guy from the by now familiar bunch. What made him different was the fact that he was one of the very few guys among my friends who're serious about their studies. I spent a lot of my time teasing him and Gupta about being not-so-straight.. even composed a birthday message for him along the same lines, which he was thrilled with !!! Somewhere down the line, we came up with a Hail-Hitleresque greeting "Jai Godavari".. referring to some forgotten chapo, which neither of us remembers anything about....


Besides the above mentioned, there are several other WONA members whom I count among my friends, all of whom possess the same drive, vitality and dynamism that these guys have.
But they are sorely lacking in something ... having us as members. I took the issue up with Mo, who mumbled something about WONA being a BTech thing and came up with a vague "Its tradition" excuse... their loss if they don't have Ash, Pree n Mee....

An Ode to Preparations

I enter my floor..
And stop right at the door !!
For what do I see..
But two girls immersed in study...
I shrug it off, and go right to sleep..
But suddenly in my slumbers deep
It hits me with a blast...
I have exams .... and fast !!!
I sit up straight
and contemplate...
Is it really worth spoiling my rest
For some petty and unworthy test??
My heart answers... "Not really"
So back I snooze unworriedly...

Ash arrives...
My partner-in-crime...
She's just as baffled, but understands
the situation as it stands...
She shakes me awake, and says...
"We 've got exams in just a few days"
As we brainstorm on this problem so pesky
We both decide to go to Nesky....
An entire evening spent under its umbrella
Gives an illusion of being in Shangrila...
Deep in conversation, we revert
To our usual strategy, never inert...
"We'll burn the midnight oil...
On the last day we shall toil "

Preeti concurs...
Coz it often occurs...
That what I want to say
She already portrays.
And so it happens that The Terrific Three...
Ash, Preeti and Mee..
Leave it to God to save 'em..
while they play carrom...
The days before the exams slip by...
So fast, its like the hours fly...
And we' re down to the last min
Before the exams begin.
We' re admirable, we're so tough..
We start filling pages rough...

Trying to cram theorems and proofs...
But know all the while we're going to make spoofs...
"Chak de Phatte" says Pree...
Who knows it better than Mee...
Coz chucking and guessing are my tricks...
To get me through with few cricks...
My hours of studying start fruits to reap...
And so I go off to sleep...
Back to where I started from...
I sleep for an hour..and then some...
Ash is in the library...
With all the books she could carry...
I don't even go to have my tea...
Its been all day, and I haven't seen Pree...

The night comes and goes...
What's to be done nobody knows...
Grappling with the syllabus...
Is like wrestling a hippopotamus...
(Sorry for that last line..
I couldn't find anything else to rhyme)
Sitting at opposite ends of the room...
Silent as spectres, full of gloom...
Ash n I try to get through the pages...
Helped along by Pree's messages...
At 1 a.m. I chuck my book...
Ash gives me a scathing look..
"I'm done" I announce and go to bed...
I've already forgotten all I've read...

The morning arrives, bright and chirpy...
The same cannot be said for me...
Last minute revision makes no sense...
Everyone's nervous, everyone's tense...
The exams begin.. begin with a bang...
And when it ends, we're ready to hang...
Two days of tests, 3 in a day...
And We have ploughed our way
Through Topology, Stats, and Fuzzy...
And Discrete, Tech Comm n IP...
How, where and why is a mystery...
All we know is they're now history!!!
Its time for us to party then...
Nesky n UG... we're back again!!!!

Call Guys

I've been plagued with calls from unknown numbers for a long time now. I have no clue how they get hold of my number ... sure there are dozens of sources I can't think of. The calls come from all sorts of numbers - Idea, Airtel, Hutch, BSNL, Tata Indicomm, Reliance. My number obviously transcends all divides of areas and network connections. My contribution towards national integration.

The calls started some 6 months back, with an arbitrary guy calling me up, "Hey gorgeous.. I've seen you around.. I want to frandship you." The first two words convinced me he'd never seen me before. The last few words convinced me I never wanted to see him !! The calls kept coming, no amount of requests or cutting of calls could dissuade him from calling. Then I went off home for 10 days, during which my cell was switched off. I guess he finally got tired of trying.

Then there was the Music Lover. He started off with "Hi" then played me songs. There were quite a few of my favourite numbers in his selection. I actually enjoyed those calls ... no crappy dialogues, just good songs. And then the messages started. Poems, shayaris and other similar forwarded messages. At one point they got pretty annoying with soppy, senti stuff pouring into my inbox. A few choice words the next time he called put a rest to that. Sadly, the songs stopped too.

My bed started vibrating in the middle of my afternoon siesta one day. I picked up my cell and said a drowsy hello. "Haan ji, hello..hello..hello.." someone bellowed into my ear. I held the phone six inches from my ear and asked who he wanted to talk to. " I want to talk to you only. Are you talking from Meerut? No? Then where are you talking from?? I'm from Meerut." Oh joy, the Man of My Dreams from Meerut.

"Hello. Myself Rakesh from Muradabad. Myself doing training here. What do you do?" Someone please save me !!!

Then there was the group of guys who decided they wanted to collectively share the call charges. they kept calling me from 3 different numbers, and sent messages from another number. I saved a few messages... they were pretty good. But the calls were irritating. I was pretty good at "choice words" by now, so gave them an earful.

Nighttime calls."I want to hear your voice. Raat ko baat karni thi." This was one caller that several of my friends and juniors also attended to. By the time 5 girls were through with him, he must have heard several new words to add to his lingo.

"Hi Rani...". This was last night during dinner. "WRONG NUMBER" I said and kept the phone down. He called again, "Please, don't keep down the phone. Just listen to me once." A pleasant voice, but nonetheless... A religious message followed, something with Ganeshji in the message, ending with a taunt "Sure you'll delete this one too.... Amit kr Sagar". Called a few minutes later." Aapko Ganeshji ki kasam, phone mat kaatna". "You're a crazy coot" was my reply. " Why aren't you listening to me. Please don't cut this call... please". A long pause from me." Is there a snake somewhere near you??Why are you so silent?" he ventured. That was when I discovered he's a snake charmer. Wonder why he was trying to charm his way into my heart??? Oye....

Wonder when I'll get calls from that special someone I want to talk to ......

Through My Eyes...

Looking afar with wide open eyes...
Who knows where my destiny lies...
Filled with dreams, and a sparkling light...
Waiting for my kite to take flight...
Searching for something... or someone?
But know that there is none
To match my steps as I walk my own pace...
I love to look challenges in their face...
For no matter how tough life might be..
I'm happy just being Me...

The Simple Things

Its easy to be difficult, but so difficult to be simple.

So many times, we make things so complicated, so warped for ourselves and for others that we lose sight of the important things in life which are so simple ...

To tell the people you love that you love them.
To laugh happily, and often.
To stop and smell the flowers.
To sing out loud when you feel like it.
To seize the moment when it comes.
To smile and greet those you know.
To enjoy every moment spent with loved ones.
To take it easy and chillax once in a while.
To get wet in the rain.
To go for long strolls, carrying no worries with you.
To wake up early (ocassionally) and see the rising sun.
To see the stars at night.
To praise a job well done... and not criticize an honest but fruitless effort.
To be generous and giving without expecting something in return.
To be a good child to your parents, a good sibling and a good friend.
To help someone in need.
To work hard and party harder.
To live life on your terms... but not at anyone else's expense.

Simplicity is the essence of contentment. And here we are, trying our best to (un)learn Complex Analysis... I knew there was something wrong with the subject the moment I set eyes upon it. No wonder we aren't exactly a happy bunch of people in the Maths Dept....

A Perfectly Ordinary Day

Perfect Weather
Fresh, cool breeze ... raindrops falling lazily in a sprinkle ... the smell of wet earth wafting through the air ... the pitter-patter of water on the roof ... an aura of utter peace and contentment ...

Perfect Company
Sitting with Ash in Nesky ... for once, she was the one who wanted to stop and smell the flowers ... enjoying the perfect weather, discussing everything under the sun, no worries (not even our constant one... will we ever find BFs) ... just sitting back and relaxing, observing the life around us (nothing remarkable, as it turned out, but enjoyable nonetheless) , cracking arbit jokes, but coming up with several good one liners ... the mood to play carrom took over and we shifted to UG club ... played some good games, thoroughly enjoying each shot ... changed tables thrice, just for the heck of it ... joined by Gupta, who played below par,and justified by saying he wanted to give us a fair chance to win ... that would have been true ( coz he's an awesome player) if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't good today even though he tried ... showed him and Ash the sky outside .. a sliver of gold in a dull gray sky ... Gupta responded "Why isn't it silver of gold"... no comments on that one ...

Perfect Music
Went to the Music Section for a meeting ... sat in my usual, much favoured (by me) spot, right in the back, strategically out of sight behind two girls ... listened to a few tunes being hummed somewhere in the foreground, some songs sung by the girls behind whom I was hiding ... "Why don't you try this song", a familiar phrase awakened me from the reverie I've sunk in ... I looked up to find The Secy and his friend , who take enthusiastic interest in me ,waiting for a response ... I sang, they sang along, and we're all happy ... I decided to change things today and introduced a few ideas of my own ... a note changed here, a scale toned down there ... I cracked a few jokes, elicited hearty laughter ... and then made a graceful exit " Oye, I'm done for today. Me leaving now" ... Happy with myself, I returned to Nesky to find Ash and Gupta, who've been bugging me for the last half hour with missed calls and messages ... Gupta playing songs on his newly acquired cell ... His "Ultimate song, just listen to the lyrics" turns out to be Gupta's life-story aptly titled "Bad Day" ... something about the magic dying, and a fake smile to accompany coffee ... we promptly change the song ... happy again.

Perfect Ending
Orange ice candy for dinner ... an after dinner stroll ... a rush back to the hostel ( Nature calls) ... an hour in the computer centre ... will go back and chat again with Ash, who happens to be my roomie ... class at 11 tomorrow, so a good night's sleep awaits ...

An extraordinarily ordinary day.

Post a Comment

My friends keep giving me feedback on my posts....
" It was sweet!"

" My blog is cryptic?? What about yours??"

" That post was too long!"

" U didnt mention the Bon Professeur.. u ruined the whole thing!"

" U seem confused... do u want one or don't you??"

" U know what, your blog is a bright spot in my day. I know everytime I open it I'll find something new."

" I read your blog today!! Achcha tha!"

" Who wants to read your blog anyway??"

And so on and so forth....

BUT NOBODY POSTS THEIR COMMENTS ON THE POST ITSELF !!

This is an appeal to all those who read my blog... kindly comment on what you liked or disliked about the post. You don't need to be a member... or even to disclose your name if you so choose. But please do post your comments ...... so I can continue to do just as I please anyways!!
Appreciate your views and the time you take out to read my blog. Love you all a lot!

Kasauli.... Those Were The Best Days Of My Life

1992 - 1995 .... The 3 best years of my life .... the ones I spent in that Heaven on Earth, Kasauli. My father was posted to Kasauli in November 1992. Packing our bags and moving to a new place was nothing new for us. Dad made me sit on his lap and gently broke the news that we would be leaving Chabua (Assam) ,our home for the past 2 1/2 years, for Kasauli. I was all of 7 years of age, and was unbelievably excited at the prospect of living in the mountains. Within a month, we had left the tea-gardens and ULFA behind for the pristine hills of Himachal Pradesh. It was a long journey ; took us more than three entire days to finally get to Kasauli. My first view of Kasauli was from behind the plastic bag I was throwing up in - in all my three years there, I never once missed an opportunity to empty my gut while travelling in the hills. The driver of the official Gypsy sent to receive us at Kalka station stopped to let us enjoy the first sighting. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Stark blue mountains rising up to touch the sky. The cold, crisp air nipped at our faces. Winter was already here. Steps cut out of the rock, the sustenance for the farmers battling it out each year against the elements of Nature. Fresh sprigs of flowers and ferns pushed out from cracks in the mountain face, tall pine trees showered needles at us every time the wind decided to sway them. Pree and I saw our first pine cone right there by the roadside and it was treasured by Pree for the rest of the journey. All around us, there were mountains and more mountains. And on one such mountain, there was nestled a beautiful town, dotted with tiny cottages and winding roads. That was Kasauli.

The Gang
We had a lovely home there... huge, airy, full of sunshine. We even had a garden full of roses and bright yellow flowers I didnt know the name of. It was a small campus, just about 8 families and 3 unmarried officers, who became our best friends in no time because they always had something for Pree n me. We were a gang of about 11 kids, ranging from 4 to 15 years of age, Pree being the youngest. All the parents were extremely sporting and let us kids go wherever we wanted to on those hills. The Gang ended up trekking on all the known paths, discovered several new ones, had picnics on the bare hillsides, went for nature rambles, started a flower and leaf collection, made several trips to Kasauli town (3 km from the campus) just for the heck of it. There were old colonial buildings on the way, the famous Sunset Point ( from where Chandigarh looked like a Cadbury's chocolate, the sectors divided neatly like the bar), an Army Guest House ( whose guard was rumoured to be tough on kids trying to trespass, but was captivated by Pree's charm and let us pass through every time), Gilbert's Track (from where Lady Gilbert and her horse fell into the valley below.. there's a grave to mark the spot where they fell), Rosewood Cottage (an upmarket inn for the tourists who came from abroad or from Chandigarh), Khushwant Singh's retreat (noone ever went there, but there it was) and several other beautiful villas, whose inhabitants we all recognised, but knew nothing about. Those were the carefree days of innocence , when all we would worry about was whether the dahlias we were carrying would survive the trek back home.

St.Mary's Convent School, Kasauli
Where the entire Gang went, comfortably in the bus we had for our own. Where I first saw the inside of a cathedral, and was overawed by its majesty. Whose buildings were scattered on top of a hill, and we had to walk for 10 minutes to get to the Library from our class. Where the hostellers were snooty and always had the best of things- brightly coloured erasers, fancy purses to carry their pencils in, the coolest schoolbags. Where children came to everyday from far flung places in specially arranged school vans. Whose parking attendant was a deaf-mute who taught me how to weave pine needles into rings. Where Sister Rosemary was notorious for pinching one's ears, and Sister Esmeralda was the sweetest (she was only 24 years old). Where I sang my first song on the stage. Where our Class Teacher was Mrs.Rathore, whose daughter Sneha always scored full marks in every subject (she was in another section). Where they took us on long marches in the mountains, then sat us down in the middle of nowhere and told us it was our picnic spot (we planned what to bring, and who to bring it,for weeks before the scheduled picnic). Where Pree was the favourite student of her teachers and from where Ma brought her back home everyday at noon in the ambulance because there was no other means of transportation. Where I made friends with Ruchi, Preeti, Angana and Sneha.. and went to their homes from school for lunch. Where Nitin made me my first proposal, on his birthday..." Happy Birthday Nitin"..."Thank you. I love you. Have some cake. I brought it just for you" , and I ran out of the classroom crying because the others started teasing me immediately... If I'd only known what it means to be loved (I got a letter from Nitin a few years back. He's a software engineer now... oh how I wish...). Where I prayed every morning with all my heart during the morning assembly for us to get a free period (I loved to run about in the playground). Where I enjoyed every second I spent with my friends.
St.Mary's Convent School.... where I cried my eyes out when we had to leave Kasauli.

Tidbits



  • Ma taught in KV within the campus. She was soon everybody's favourite teacher, as she always has been in all these years as a school teacher. Her students were from not-very-well-off families, but they showed their love in so many ways, it brought Ma to tears at times. Vivekanand and Devanand, twins who adored Ma, actually sculpted a wooden statue for her. Sunita knitted a sweater for her. A colleague gave her a handmade shawl (it was ugly, but Ma still wore it to school for a week). Everyday she returned home with flowers and cards the students made themselves. It was not unusual to see Ma walking down the steep slope with two or three tiny tots clinging to her hands, their mothers following with the bags and water bottles. Ma was everybody's darling. She still is.
  • We had parties every Saturday. The Commanding Officer and his wife believed whole heartedly in "Let's go Party Tonight". All 8 families would gather in the Officers' Mess Lounge. The parents would chitchat, have games, dance and sing (the CO's wife loved singing and dancing... hence the rest followed!!) .The Gang would always play hide-and-seek. The mess was huge, and we knew every nook and cranny of it. We always had such fun that we used to refuse to go back home, although it was usually 1 am by the time the party ended and freezing cold outside.
  • I had my first crush there in Kasauli. He was in The Gang, one year older than me. We would often run around holding hands, we would dance together in the parties, help each other during our treks. I was convinced I would marry him. The next year, his mom brought two Rakhis, and Pree and I tied him a Rakhi each. End of crush.
  • Dad, Ma, Pree and I would go off to our favourite spot on the hills for picnics during summer. We would walk it down to the spot, carrying a bag full of goodies- Maggi, Rasna, chips, chocolates and water. We would sit on the rough brown grass under the Pine trees. Dad would doze off, Ma would read a book, and Pree and I would run about picking pine cones and flowers. Eventually, we'd sit down to eat. Dad would crack jokes, the two of us would prattle about school and the various secret ways we' d discovered and Ma would give the latest gossip going round the campus. All in all, a peaceful and lazy Sunday. Perfect.
  • We went to Shimla, Chandigarh, Kulu-Manali and lots of other places around there. We didn't travel much because Pree n I were majorly travel-sick in the mountains. The campus had a picnic in the valley, by the Solan river. The entire station was there- around 100 families from the ranks, and the Officers and their families. Huge cauldrons, gallons of kerosene, stoves- practically an entire cooking range, were loaded onto a one-ton truck. The Officers rode in the two-ton trucks with the airmen and their families. A morale boosting gesture apparently. That's big in the forces... bonding with the ranks. When you have to ask someone to sacrifice themselves for the nation, you need to show them you're going to do the same. The Gang rides together (as usual) in our school bus, with our mothers. We sing all the way down to the river, then have the best time of our lives splashing about in the frigid waters, being almost carried away by the swift current, and pulled back just in time by a fat cook who looked as if nothing could dislodge him from his position. We ate the food cooked right there, sitting beside the river, throwing pebbles in and watching them disappear with barely a ripple. It rained lightly, and we saw a double rainbow spanning the sky. We all ooh-ed and aah-ed, and stood watching the miracle in silence. A blood-red sunset later, we all piled back into the trucks and buses and rode back home.... unforgettable days....
  • Lucy... my first pet. An utterly cute, tiny little furball of a puppy that a cook from the Mess gave us. We all adored her. Ma, Pree and I were crazy about her, and Dad succumbed to her selfless love and her floppiness in no time. She would jump onto the bed at the middle of the night, somehow get into my sweater and snuggle up to my neck from inside. In the morning , I would be woken up by a wet lick, an eager yap and a face full of Lucy. She was a mountain bred, no pedigree. But no amount of breeding could have produced more lucid brown eyes, dripping with affection. She would follow us everywhere and was known to everyone in the campus. One day, our upstairs neighbour (whose wife had passed away a few months back) took a fancy to Lucy. Ma, being generous as she is, gave her away to him. Pree and I were heartbroken, but comforted by the thought that she was still only a stair away. We often found her pawing at our door, whining to be let in. Ma tried to be strict... after all Lucy was now theirs. But she was underfed, and was digging in teh garbage for food. One day, we returned to find Lucy gone... forever. Our neighbour, for whom Lucy was a momentary fancy, had left her hungry as usual and as she foraged for food, a passing group of tourists ,who had come to visit the famous Monkey Point, took her away. Someone in the campus saw her in their arms, and rushed to tell us, but it was too late. I never forgave the neighbour for his neglect. And I would never forget Lucy either...
Leaving Paradise
And then, one fine day, Dad sat us down again, and told us we had to move to a new place now. The tears just wouldn't stop. The Gang cried with us, and consoled us at the same time. We would always be friends. We'll always keep in touch. The bigger boys, who'd been like brothers to us both, immediately brought us our favourite chocs. Surbhi, my best friend there, cried with me. Soon, we were packed and ready to move again. We were sent off from Kasauli by over 100 families who had gathered there to say goodbye. We were accompanied all the way to Kalka station, 1 1/2 hours away, by 10 officers and their families. And as we rounded the bend from where we had our first glimpse of Kasauli, I bid my final goodbye to the best place of my life.
Those were the best days of my life....

Accidentally....

My friend P wanted an ice cream... it wasn't too much to ask for...
So we went for a walk at 9.10 pm to get an ice-cream for her. We had just crossed the Saraswati Mandir, engrossed in our own lamentations (how we don't have anyone who would take us out for ice-cream...), when there came a squeal of tyres, a screeching brake and the crunch of metal on the road. I turned back.. to find a head lying at my feet. I almost screamed, but found the rest of the body attached, so refrained from adding a few more noises to the scene. It was an accident.

The driver of the scooter had fallen head-first , with his vehicle falling on top of him. While I comprehended the mess, I heard a wailing from somewhere in the background. The source of the cry was a woman who appeared to be hurt. A motorcyclist stopped and a few boys also came to help the man up. After picking up the driver's specs, which lay thrown off a few feet away, and depositing it on the pavement, I went to see the woman. P and I were the only two girls on the scene, so it was upon us to talk to her. As soon as she saw me, she beckoned to me, held my hand, pulled me down on to the pavement beside her... and immediately plonked her head on my lap !!! While in this uncomfortable position (for me, that is) , she kept up her wailing, "My foot is broken.. he broke my foot.. I have two small children at home.. what will happen to them after I'm gone..." along with a string of censored words for the driver, which made even the guys standing around blush. I gingerly patted her back, all the while wishing she would get off my lap , and assured her she wasn't dying. Firmly (but kindly) I told her her foot was, in fact, not broken... she didn't have even a scratch. By that time a crowd had gathered around the pavement. Several people gave invaluable suggestions from the background. A Genius came up with a brilliant plan "Give her some water"... as if I was a standing fountain. This started her off with a fresh bout of wailing... this time for water. I looked at P..."Where do I get water from?" she responded. I decided it was time to change the topic. I told the lady to try and stand up and walk around a bit. My idea was met with universal approval, with several people from the crowd joining in encouraging her to stand up... though from a safe distance. P from one side, and I from the other, pulled her up to her feet. She protested and tried her level best to keep sitting (probably she wanted a nap on my lap again). That thought spurred me into action and despite her best efforts to the contrary, I managed to heave her to her feet. She stood unsteadily for a moment.

At this point, our man the driver decided he wanted a piece of the action too. He limped towards us. That's when I saw he was walking using a cane and his scooter had two support wheels. He came forward and stood facing the three of us (who were looking like a team for a six-legged race). He gazed at P, blinked then asked "Are you all right?? Can you walk??". A bit taken aback, P replied," Yes sir. I'm fine. But she's the one who's hurt". Regardless of this fact, he peered next at me,"And you... are you okay?". I knew the answer to this one, " Yes sir. I'm fine. But she's the one you hit". A bit bold, that last bit. I think it finally got into his head. He blinked, then asked us, "What is she feeling right now??". Not how, but what.He looked drunk. P and I looked at each other, then at the lady held suspended between us, then at the man. He decided we were too slow, and asked her directly, " Aunty, what are you feeling at this moment??". Anyone could have told him this just wasn't the moment for that particular question... and he definitely shouldn't have called her Aunty. She started telling him exactly what she felt... about him. A string of abuses later, he retired dazed. Just to get things moving, I asked her to try and walk a few steps. She resolutely held on to my shirt, pulling it this way and that, and with maximum effort, hobbled a few steps. I thought my shirt was on the verge of being ripped to shreds, so I picked her hand off my shirt and deposited my own hand in hers.

By this time, another Bright Mind asked me where she was from. As if I've known her all my life. At this juncture, Panditji, a bearded acquaintance of hers who happened to be passing along, informed us she lived in some Vihar or Nagar in IIT. He ventured to add that it was basic humanity for those present to get her to the hospital. To which the Bright Mind replied, "Panditji, daadi badhne se insaniyat nahi badh jati". Touche. A silence followed this particular remark, during which I fought to keep my face straight. A new crash broke the silence... a motorcyclist and a scooterist had collided in the background while the crowd took up most of the road. They cursed each other and moved on. That was the breaking point, and P and I burst out laughing. The laughter gave way to a sigh of relief as a car stopped and the driver got out and offered to take the lady to the hospital. We practically carried her to the car, pushed her onto the seat and ventured to shut the door, when I realised she was still holding on to my hand. "Who's coming with me to the hospital?" she demanded. Not me. "Aunty, our in time at the hostel is 10 o'clock. Don't worry, you'll be fine". There was a lady and her daughter sitting inside the car. Before they knew what was happening, I managed to wrench away my hand, shut the door and P and I sped away in the opposite direction at full speed.

The last thing I heard was someone sighing, "Man... did you see that car. That lady is lucky she's got an opportunity to sit in it", to which his friend replied, "Ultimate, yaar....."

A Short Story

I'm not short. I'm relatively short. Literally. All my closest relatives are taller than me - Ma, Dad n my sis. I'm the shortest in my family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My sis Pree is 3 1/2 years younger and 3 1/2 inches taller than me. That means she looks down upon me in more ways than one. Ever since Dad got posted to Bangalore, we've had to introduce ourselves to his colleagues. A sample conversation goes something like this :

Colleague/Wife of colleague : So beta, what do you do?
Pree : I'm in my first year of graduation.
C/WoC : That's wonderful. (Smiles at me) And what about you?? (Patting my head. Can't pat hers,she's too tall) I've heard they have changed the examination pattern for schools this year.
Self (drawing myself up to my full height) : I can't really say. But I have heard the pattern has changed...in the last 4 years since I gave my school exams.
C/WoC : Ohhh...ehhh.. (Blink blink..squirm uncomfortably)
Self (continuing after a dramatic pause) : I am in my final year of post graduation... in mathematics... from IIT-Roorkee.
C/WoC (with a nervous laugh) : Hahaha... actually you look like the smaller one.
Self : I am the smaller one. She's the taller one.

Knockout punch delivered. C/WoC withdraw in confusion and embarassment. I take it in my stride with a martyr-like smile plastered on my face while my "kid" sister veiws the entire scene benevelontly from eyes placed 5' 8.5" above the ground. End of introductions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four of us - Ma, Dad, Pree n I - went to get our family photo done in a studio. There was some confusion with the placing... the photographer could not find an appropriate place for me. I couldn't sit between Ma and Dad ("It looks like a V"). I couldn't stand behind them with my sis ( " Looks lopsided " ). All four of us couldn't stand together (" looks like an M now "). In the end, we compromised with Ma and Dad sitting on chairs with Pree standing behind them and me standing on a stool beside Pree. End of photo shoot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pree and I had a Girls' Day Out thing going. Saw this extremely cute guy walking past - tall, handsome, cool. I looked at Pree. She didn't even pause in her stride.."He's too tall for you. You'd crick your neck looking up at him. Look for someone your own size ". My concerned sis and her suggestions. "You're a regular pain in the neck, you know that?" was my irritated response. " See what I mean", was her witty rejoinder. End of discussion.

Fresh....

There are very few days on which I wake up bright n early. One of these rare occasions occurred recently when my roomie had gone home for 5 days. I spent the first two days cribbing and feeling sorry for myself, coz till 2 months back, I too was among those who would run home every other weekend. I missed my family;missed Ma's delicious cooking and her pampering and care and attention, missed Dad's love,wit and sarcasm that accompany my narratives of life here, missed my sister's constant leg-pulling and teasing. Above everything, I wanted get away from here, from the indifference, ego-hassles, lack of co-operation that characterise the way things happen in our department, to a place which is my own...My home. And so, in this atmosphere of frustration and sadness, I awoke on the third day at 4.45 a.m.

It was cool and breezy and even before I opened my eyes, my senses were filled with the sweet fragrances of a new day. I opened my eyes and saw the curtains at the door billowing gently in the wind. I was suddenly wide awake, not drowsy, but fresh and alive. I got off the bed and walked to the veranda to look at the wondrous scene unfolding right before me. The sky was a pale blue, with fluffy white clouds edged with gold scurrying across it. The sun was not up yet, but its reddish golden rays were beginning to light up the sky. Birds were chirping all around, flying busily, already starting their business for the day. Somehow at that early hour, everything looked new to me. I observed glistening drops of dew on the grass. I could spot a bright crimson flower popping out of the shrubs. A robin alighted on the railings close to me, hopped about for a moment, then flew off again with a flourish. From somewhere far off, I could hear the Gayatri Mantra being chanted. Peace and tranquility filled me right to my core. I was one with Nature, and the only thoughts in my mind were those of frank wonder and amazement at God's genius and creativity. My heart was so full of a golden glow that I felt it would burst. And just when I felt that I had reached the height of contentment, the sun rose with all the beauty and majesty that only Nature can achieve. As red, pink, yellow and a rainbow of other colours filled the vast blue expanse, my heart could not help bursting out in a prayer of gratitude to God for his creation, for giving me my life and so much of love. And as I stood there, I felt the breeze blowing away all my frustration....

I start Afresh.

French In The Land Of Les Ganges

"Je suis Candy " says the extremely pretty and enthu French girl standing in front of a class of around 20 no-hopers who've come to learn French... the guys being there exclusively for eye-Candy, the girls for arbit other reasons...

I'm part of the bunch of arbit reason girls...me n my friend-cum-roompartner-cum-classmate, who rushed to the Humanities Dept on the last possible date for enrolment and managed to wrangle two of the last few seats left in the course ("It'll be fun"... "I've always wanted to go to Paris"... "Huh??"). The next three months look promising, full of fun n frolic... till we get our first "assignment". Never thought that at the age of 20 I'd have to learn the alphabet all over, and not manage to learn it anyway. After aa-ing, bey-ing, cey-ing for sometime (with audio-visual aids, no less), I retire to the loo, exhausted and confused (is it pee or pey??). I return with gusto to pursue "Les Salutations" which starts us off with "Bonjour Monsieur/Madamoiselle" and similar greetings. After rolling and growling my r's and sounding as if I'm going to puke at any moment, I attract several unpleasant glares from the other girls in the comp centre, and decide I've done enough for the day. So ends my first encounter with la langue de Francais (Don't bother to check the grammar).

TWO WEEKS LATER:

Candy throws an amazing punch at us . "We shall have ze French examination, zest a test to see what you have learnt", all the while smiling brightly while we heave a collective groan. None of us have been able to decipher anything beyond Bonjour and Merci in the class, except a few enthu-cutlets who it seems are French-mistakenly-born-in-India. We have the test a few days later. It is best described as an unqualified disaster. However, I end up making a few more friends ( amongst them a sardar who claims he's a founding member of ISI-Intelligent Sardars of India... Is there such a thing??)

SOMETIME LATER:

By now French classes are more tiring than Maths classes. We look for ways to bunk classes, convincing each other that as Candy is still not here (its 5 minutes past the time), there is probably no class. And no sooner than the bolder ones pick up their bags to leave, Candy enters with a flurry of activity and energy, and we immediately try to look as if we've been dying for the class to start. We usually end up having arbit discussions in class, with the so-called wittier ones coming up with all sorts of words for Candy to translate (she dutifully copies down the words she doesn't understand and actually comes back with the French translation the next time). Us Mathsies use French to get out of Complex Analysis classes ("Very important... french certificate course... got to go... already late..."). French does have its uses.

One fine day I almost jump out of my skin when I hear a bright and chirpy "Bonjour Vinashi... Comment ca va?". Just in time, I jump out of the way of a cycle carrying none other than Candy. She insists on calling me Ms.Kanish or Vinashi. I manage to wave back weakly and say "Bonjour" and before I can remember the rest of it ("Crap, what was that other thingy??"), she glides by. I'm not sure how many more such shocks I can take. As it turns out later, she is capable of identifying me in the dark, from a distance of over 200 metres, on a rickshaw, on foot, in Civil Lines, out of Civil Lines ... in short anywhere, anytime. By the end of the semester, I am capable of responding decently to her enthusiastic greetings. How can one not respond to someone who is so genuinely nice and friendly and says hi even at the risk of running someone over with her cycle ??

TOWARDS THE END:

"Time for ze finale. Ze final French exam, with an oral test". You could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows, then the uproar of protestations ("No Ma'am"..."Oooh la la, use le Francais".... "Bonjour"..."That's Hello!!"). By this time, we have supposedly done verbs, nouns, pronouns, adjectives, professions, directions... even eaten a French crepe or something that she's baked with the other batch ("There's an other batch that bakes crepes and cakes?? Why the hell aren't we in that one??"). We've sung French songs, read French poems (morose and depressing), played games and actually held conversations in pseudo-French which would get us killed in France. So Candy decides we're ready to hold our own now. The preparations for the exam are limited to us calling up each other for two days before the exam and exhorting each other to study ("I'm relying on you"..."you're better than me at this"..."Excuse-moi "..."See what I mean "). We are seated strategically, which means 5 of us are bunched together on two benches. We must look pretty desperate, coz the invigilator immediately places us apart. The exam goes off well for me. Turns out I did learn something in two months. I finish the written comfortably, mumble through the oral and part from Candy with a bright "Au Revoir".

Our gang meets up after the exam for a refreshing drink at Nesky. None of us wants to discuss what just happened, so we observe a few contemplative moments of silence and retrospection. We chuckle at our abominable pronounciations, reminisce about the early days of French, talk about Candy (especially the guys). And at the end of it all, we agree it was some ride- bumpy and jolting, but enjoyable; although we are thankful its finally over.

I finish the course with a smattering of French & a certificate to prove it, a bunch of good friends, an unforgettable association with the beautiful, charming and utterly lovable Candy, and a load of great memories.

To be followed like The Bible....

Standing Orders For Students And Procedure For Enquiries & Punishments
(Issued by the Authorities of IIT Roorkee)

D1-2.6: Students are prohibited from writing and drawing on blackboards and walls. (Huh???!!??)
D1-3.5: Students are not allowed to become members of outside societies without prior permission of the Insititute. (There goes my membership with Al-Qaida)
D1-3.6: Students are not permitted to take alcoholic drinks and harmful drugs l;ike LSD,Charas etc. (Oh hahahaha)
D1-5.7: Lights,fans,taps etc should be switched on only when needed and must be switched off when not reqired or going out of the room. (This is a rule apparently)
D1-5.8: No pets such as dogs/monkeys (yes,it says monkeys) are allowed in the Bhawans.
D1-11.4: No private doctor should be consulted by a student on his/her own initiative.( first you reach your deathbed after the "treatment" at the Insti Hospital...then THEY refer you to a private doc)

NOTE: Detailed library rules are given in the publication "Know Your Library" available for consultation in the library. (This after a lengthy set of rules governing the Library)

The Last Word:
D2-12: In all matters not expressly provided herein, the Director may take action as he thinks fit and his decision shall be final.

Mainu BF Chahida.....

I make a great hue n cry about it;
Spread the word around that I'm "Available";
Ponder for hours (okay,days) with my similarly situated friends what the reasons for our condition of "Ready to mingle, but still Single" might be;
Wonder how even girls with the worst dressing sense (this point raised by my fashion oriented friend) are escorted around campus;
Heave a long, heavy hearted sigh when I see couples roaming around;
Wish for someone to whisk me away to Ganga Canal when the weather is beautifully rainy;
Keep asking "I'm not THAT bad...Am I???" ,and driving my audience (lately my long suffering neighbour, who happens to have a boyfriend!) to desperation ("Ab pleeeeease chup ho ja");
Make sure I'm out of the hostel till the last possible moment ("10 baj gaye...chaliye andar");
Go to Nesky every single day (hmm... the guy at the counter knows me quite well and he's actually kinda cute... God,I'm reduced to Nesky waala now...I'm not THAT bad, am I?)


All of the above make me sound desperate for a boyfriend... But to tell you the truth, I'm perfectly happy just the way I am... I love my friends, I love the time I spend cribbing to them, love bugging them to bits and then think how lucky I am to have them actually comforting me, love my freedom- to do what I want, when I want, with whoever I want; freedom of choice n variety in life, love the fact that I'm actually unavailable coz I'm so busy being available, and love passing time just hanging out with my best friends wondering where exactly we went wrong and how the hell we screwed up!!

Who wants a boyfriend when I have all of this instead....

The Ragpicker

I sit looking out of the window of the Dehradoon Shatabdi,on my way back to Roorkee after two blissful months of vacationing at home.Sitting comfortably in the air conditioned chair car,I grumble (inwardly) about going back to the stifling heat, the mundane lifestyle, the boredom and ennui that characterises my life in Roorkee. As the train stops at Saharanpur, I moan loudly because the platform is on the other side of the train from where I'm sitting."Great,20 minutes of staring at dirty, plastic strewn tracks..." is all that comes into my mind.

All at once I see something moving on the track. I pause my complaining as I try to see what exactly is causing plastic bags to lift into the air and disappear somewhere. After a few moments of relentless staring, I barely distinguish a frail,wispy looking girl wearing dusty,mud coloured clothes that blend only too well with the background. She suddenly turns toward me, revealing astonishingly bright eyes in a surprisingly neat face. She looks like she's about 10 years old, but her face holds so many creases that she is wizened beyond her age. She can't see me, I'm behind a black window. We are barely a few feet away from each other, but the distance between us is much more than just those few feet. We're in two entirely separate worlds, the window giving me just a glimpse of her life. As I sit ensconed comfortably in the AC, I can see her out there under the mercilessly beating sun, picking up the filth from the tracks, putting them into the huge sack she holds across her shoulder, now discarding a packet, now picking up a newspaper. All the while she's doing this, she keeps peeping over the edge of the tracks. I see a tiny baby crawling on the platform. Probably her sibling. And suddenly, she strikes gold. Literally. In a garishly golden tetrapak, she discovers fruit juice, discarded by someone who thought it unworthy of consumption. For her, its a special treat. Lightly, she pulls herself onto the platform, hauls her sack after her and rushes to the baby. A smile lights up her face as she feeds the baby the juice... every last drop of it. As the train begins to slowly move, I can see her eyes sparkling with joy and satisfaction as she watches the baby crawling robustly again. For her, it mattered not that she didn't get a taste. For her, having something to give was the ultimate happiness.

Looking at her, I suddenly feel very small. A world of difference between us, yet who seems the happier of us both. All my grumbles and complaints vanish. As the train gathers speed and leaves the station behind, I too leave something behind and take something much more precious back with me...

My first post....

Well..I've finally done it.I've created a blog.Call it a result of utter boredom,or a need for an outlet for my expressions,feelings and my view of an extraordinarily ordinary life..or is it an ordinarily extraordinary one???

This is not a daily diary..its not a listing of my itenary.Its just a place where I can put down seemingly insignificant events of my day to day life which turn out to touch me in some way.I am not writing for critical appreciation or appreciative criticism... but I would like for you to reach out and post a comment if you like (or dislike) something posted in these columns.

Here I go....
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...