Beer Bath and other things......

Among other things, got to celebrate my birthday in XL. Well, the party rocked. And the surprise element added to the wow factor. These guys here put in lots of effort to organize everything. Thanks IQ, PK, ComB, Ferrari, Shady, Sana, Flt. Lt., Shilpa and AM. You guys rock. And the birthday gift, a fabulous book.....Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy....leaving you with the photographs....

Getting the bumps.......


Beer Bath.......

The Cake.....

The After Effects....

Writer's block

I seem to be suffering from writers block again. Just a week back, had written and edited stuff for the blog...today am unable to do so. That got me thinking, may be there is something about this writers block after all. So here i just describe the week that went by.

The week went in the usual Pujo festivities. Some pandal hopping at last. Was accused of ditching friends while I went pandal hopping, but none will understand that sometimes, some one may just not feel like coming out of the shell that one has created.

Among other things watched quite a few movies, surprisingly for me. A must watch for any one is The Empire of the Sun, directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Christian Bale, John Malkovich, and Miranda Richardson. It is based on the novel of the same name by J.G. Ballard. Beautiful, moving tale about growing up when the world around you is crumbling.

Also watched a Korean movie, My Sassy Girl, a romantic comedy starring Korean actress Jun Ji-hyun. It is a movie about love, relationship and what it means to be special.

Other than watching these movies dint do anything much. Actually nothing much was there to be done also. Looking forward to next week, when with the SIP on, there will be more to write.

Subho Bijoya......

As the dhaaks fall silent and the pandal lights go dim. As the crisp new clothes are creased, as the mist in the air and fragrance of a thousand incense fade, as autumn turns into winter, as Maa is slowly lowered into the water for her to begin her journey back home, there is wish and a prayer on every lip, that may the coming year be blessed and may it have all the best tidings of the season, till we meet again. Aasche Bochor Aabar hobe, with that hope, and with the prayer for the best of the year to come, Bijoyar aantorik preeti o subheccha, Subho Bijoya.

New look

Finally decided to give a new look to this blog. Was getting bored with the old. Hope this also signals a new enthu to blogging....This was how the old blog looked. Just keeping it here so that sometime later can come and take a sneak peak and remember the days of yore

The Divorce

It was a lonely moonlight night. Sandhya was sitting by the small pool behind the house. It was the last night. Tomorrow would be different. The bags had been packed. The kids had got admission in a reputed boarding school at Dehradun. They would be leaving tomorrow morning.

The heavily laden bakul tree, with its white flowers, kissed the pool and spread its heady fragrance around. Theres was a home made by love. And today it was that love that with its absence was making a home a house again. Sandhya reflected on the events of the last few years. It had been a classic love story. They had met in college, on the first day, when she had sat at her hostel gate, lonely, excited, sad, and most importantly missing her mom. He was walking by, and stopped to ask what happened. She joined him for a walk after that and the walks went on longer and longer, till by the time they left college they were inseparable. Sandhya and Mridul, Mridul and Sandhya; two bodies but one spirit. Mridul was a musician and a writer and a poet. Actually she thought, he was gifted in very special ways. More than she could fathom.

It was but expected and with blessings of both the families a fairy tale wedding was held. After the wedding, they moved to this city and started building their dreams from the bricks of reality. On the first day she had asked him to carry her over the doorstep. Sandhya smiled as she remembered that day. He, unsure of what to expect, carrying her gently in his arms as if afraid to drop the precious bundle, she arms gaily around his neck. As he gently carried her across the doorstep she had made a small notch on the door with her nails, and said, "This is to remind you who is the boss". They had collapsed laughing on the floor.

Their fairy tale life was soon assailed by the everyday reality of living. Individual quirks that were cute once, were now nerve jarring. Mistakes blew into disasters and talk consisted of a non stop shouting match. In the midst of this in the time when things were still fine two bonny babies made an appearance. They had been the heart and soul of the family. Now they were being packed off to boarding school......

Sandhya, felt tears rolling down her eyes. The frustration of it all. The uselessness, the stupidity of it all. It had been a fairy tale romance, it deserved a fairytale ending. But she knew it was not to be. A barrier had been created. One that was too difficult to surpass. They hardly spoke. If they did it was to argue. They hardly..... She sighed....it had been long....really long....

A slight movement on the side of the pool roused her from her revere. It was Mridul. Standing there with his violin. His eyes asked her permission to sit beside her. Despite her head saying no, her heart said yes. It was like the old times. They were sitting together on a moonlight night, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies as the cold autumnal wind blew. Sandhya shivered slightly. And without any warning, Mridul wraped her in the shawl that he had. "Tomorrow we part, but that doesn't mean that today I don't take care of you". Typical of him. As they sat in the moonlight, Sandhya glanced up at the ruddy cheeks, the stiff lips, the hawked nose, and those brilliant eyes. He was handsome, had always been. And still was.

On the other side of town, their respective lawyers were furiously working at the divorce settlement. Eveything would be divided. But can a soul ever be divided?

They sat for what seemed like the whole night. No words were spoken. Tonight none were needed. When they rose from the dew laden grass, it was early morning. As they walked to the front door, Mridul held Sandhya's hand in his. And as they crossed the threshold, Sandhya was in his arms, and she made the notch a little more deep.

The lawyers were called and asked to forget about the proceedings, there would be no divorce. The school in Doon was informed that the kids were not going anywhere. And the house....ohh....it became a home again, with laughter and joy ringing everywhere......

Grey Dawn Breaking....

After a night spent in writing assessment reports...and the prospect of another pujo far from home....another pujo without the protima dorshon and the dhaak.....it is a grey dawn that breaks....also this marks my return to blogdom....i was around.....lurking around the shadows of blogland....reading blogs...commenting on all.....but i return....and hopefully will see more posts from me....

Sharod Subheccha

Durga Poojo.......the time of the year when the Bangalee's life revolves around new clothes, visiting Pandals, Protima Dorshon, the live Protima Dorshon for the greater percentage of younger folks, and feasting and celebrating. No matter who you are, where you are, what you do, Bangalee maane Durga Pujoer dhaak aar Pandel pandel ghora, aar masti, aar aada......baaro maase taaro prabon, kintu aokaal bodhoni? seta prabon noye...seta jibon....Sharod Subheccha

Donkey and the Butterfly

The charming butterfly flirting from flower to flower

The poor donkey tilling the earth with the sweat of his brow

Pray, tell me dear one,

Who, is the one, who makes the flowers grow?

Said the butterfly to the donkey,

“Be like me! I flirt from flower to flower as happy as I can be.”

Said the donkey to the butterfly,

“Flirting is not for me. I tend to one little flower, give it beauty for all to see”

Mocking, the butterfly said,

“One, miserly flower, when it is the whole garden I see”

Laughing, the donkey replied,

You see the garden; I see the one which belongs to me”

“Come what may”, the donkey continued,

“And may the world hear”,

“You may flirt with all the flowers in the land”

“But none will ever your name bear.”

The Best Moments in Life

Got this as a chain mail. Somehow agree with it....so it is here....it is not my creation.....but it still is mine....

T h e B e s t M o me n t s I n Li f e

1. Falling in love.

2. Laughing till your stomach hurts.

3. Enjoying a ride down the country side.

4. Listening to your favorite song on the radio.

5. Going to sleep listening to the rain pouring outside.

6. Getting out of the shower and wrapping yourself with a warm, fuzzy towel.

7. Passing your final exams with good grades.

8. Being a part of an interesting conversation.

9. Finding some money in some old pants.

10. Laughing at yourself.

11. Sharing a wonderful dinner with all your friends.

12. Laughing without a reason.

13. "Accidentally" hearing someone say somthing good about you.

14. Watching the sunset.

15. Listening to a song that reminds you of an important person in your life.

16. Receiving or giving your first kiss.

17. Feeling this buzz in your body when seeing this "special" someone.

18. Having a great time with your friends.

19. Seeing the one you love happy.

20. Wearing the shirt of a person you love and smelling his/her perfume.

21. Visiting an old friend of yours and remembering great memories.

22. Hearing someone telling you "I LOVE YOU"

&
ABOVE ALL - REACHING THE TARGET SET BY YOU......... ...

Blogging once a way

It's been so long, when i last logged in to blog, my writing feels rusty, my fingers refuse to move on the keyboard, my vocabulary anything but exemplary. Life has been the usual since my last entry, as usual as life can get, with its highs and lows, though it has had more lows than highs. Which in turn was not such a bad thing as you tend to savour every minute of the high. The year started and already it is march....time flew past without even pausing to take a breath. It seems so long ago that it was a New Year. People have come and gone, again more gone than come. Will miss few of them, will think of some of them, will not bother about most of them. And the people who have come, welcome to my messed up life.


.....project work beckons....will continue some other time

The Year that was...

2006....a year to remember...what started out as a yet another year heralded a change in my life.
The year started with a New Year party to remember at our place at Thane. Popat, Kachhu, Cheeku and yours truly. A wild party....a way to bring in the year that would be.

First week end saw me traveling to the other end of Mumbai, for XAT. The CAT results were out just before and I saw no hope for me. XAT was decent, as usual, one kindda tends to become used to this after umpteen number of attempts...looked around for Arjun; he was not to be seen. Big deal...went back home. Next day come to know that Arjun was dead drunk, too drunk to come for XAT. The realisation of what he missed dint hit home until later, when the results came.

Back to work, good old Syntel. Night shifts galore. Praksh was coming back for sometime, it was hell. Portal was supposed to be our domain now. New team members, Mani, Harikesh, and Sukant holding fort. Thanks guys!! You people deserve a mention.

Jan end, XAT results, I have an XLRI shortlist. Good. Then an XIMB and a GIM. Life looks up. Tell my project manager, Manas, that I might leave. The best words ever from him, "If you are going for the interview, go with the confidence that you will leave Syntel, else dont go." Words, that inspire, and command. My first boss, and role model, Manas Padhye. Hope I get a boss like you again.

Feb went in a flash. Reading up, work pressure being handled by the team. A team, spread across geographies, but united nevertheless. No MBA institute can better epitomise team work and team spirit. The big days of March. The first interview, XLRI.

March afternoon in Mumbai, bit hot. Quite humid. Reach the interview location. No mistakes this time. Previous candidate comes out, and yours truly barges in. Interview panel, PR, AP, Fr.A. PR looks up, who are you? Wish the floor opens up and swallows me. My dream institute. Come on. What did I do? Anyways, collect my wits. Stare stupidly as they mark the previous candidate. Anyways, the interview is on.

Come out dazed, stopwatch in pocket says interview lasted 6 minutes. 6 minutes, that's too less. Call up my Guru, Tanmay. Tanmay, diplomat, says, 6 minutes means they liked you or they dint. Am like, dude, I know that. Tell me something I don't know. Went over word by word analysis. Then Guru says, think you should make it. Tere mooh mein ghee shakkar...thanks mate. Optimism pays.

Rest of the interviews go in a blur. Work is getting hectic. It is getting irritating travelling in the Mumbai heat. Nights are getting longer. Kanjur station is a welcome respite, for home is just 15 mins away now.

March end. The wait ends. Results are out. I am in XLRI. Hand in my resignation to Manas. Maybe am the first employee, who asks him the format of the resignation letter. And he gave it to me. Gave him ample notice. But now, not interested in work anymore. Some how come to office and do the least amount. Train the new comers. Fraxing starts already.

Time to shift house. The lease has expired. We find one, closer to the station. Nice place. Bachelors shifting house. All our worldly possessions fit in two autos. We shift in. Cheeku decides to leave us, he is quitting Mumbai. He moves on. Now it is only the two of us, Popat and me. Kachadiya decides to shift in.

XLRI fees has to be paid. SBI goes on a strike. Heart in hand. I wait. Thankfully things work out. No issues.

One month, passes in a whirl. May end. My bags are packed. I am ready to go. My last day at Syntel. Exit interview is done. The HR lady asks, what happened, dint like the project. No, mam, loved the project. Leaving to follow my dreams.

At last, the day to leave. Guys come to see me off. Dadar station, Chalukya express; headed home, to Bangalore. Bye bye Mumbai, with all your heat and humidity, your floods and traffic jams, you taught me to take life, each day as it comes, and to chill out when your work is done, as if there is no tomorrow. Will miss you. Will miss a lot of people too.

Bangalore....home sweet home...some work to be caught up on. Lots of people to meet. And, of course my sweetest Ruchi. Fifteen days later, it is June and I am headed to Jamshedpur.

Jamshedpur, the place that made a man out of mama's boy. The place that taught me a lot and also taught me engineering. The place, that let me make friends. Some for life. And the place which gave me a better half in life.

Dusty, sleepy industrial town. Nothing much changes here. Moved in to XLRI. The place is small, but am looking forward to meeting the people.

XLRI. Dream world. A place where people dream to get in, then work their backside out to get out. Met some nice people, some super nice people, some good people and met a crazy air force pilot with a heart of gold. Fl. Lt. Rajat Shahi. Person par excellence. A gentleman to the core. But, yes, he is mad. Induction programme came and went. Lot of academic work. Met a quiet little girl, and a bond developed. A brother with his lil sister. Komal made an appearance.

First term showed how rusty I was with books. Writing notes in class was a torture. I had not used a pen after college, except to sign cheques and fill MBA forms. It was relearning how to study.

Introduction to XL culture followed. Adventure and village trip. The other side of life. Playing badminton and getting wet in the rain. Living a life.

September end, term 1 ends, the end term exams are on. Shit!!! I don't know a thing. Last minute studies and mugging. One week and the pain is over. I am headed back home.

Week later am back. It is the second term. Time for SIP. Companies, PPTs to attend, forms to be filled. Everyone wants a SOP, short and long term goals. Short term goal...that's a joke...it is to survive here. Calls to Ruchi increase. I am not able to handle this. Shortlists are coming out. List after list. Name in not there. Death is a great leveller, campus placements are too. It doesn't matter what you know or what you don't. Nothing else matters. It is one company that wants you.

Day 1, no luck. Day 2 no luck till the end. Have to move on to slot 2. That is bad. Heavy at heart go back to sleep. Am woken up by Rajat. "You are through in IBM". He actually spent the night waiting for the results. Thanks man. I am out of the process.

SIP end, time to catch up with all the missed work. Classes are on. The term is ending. The end terms are coming. And suddenly, it is time to go back home. End of term 2. End of 2006.

Overall a roller coaster ride. A year that saw me move on to chase my dreams. Sometimes there were doubts. Sometimes there were fears. I metamorphosed from a software engineer, to a student. And now, waiting for the new batch. I am a senior student. A year that taught me more than my other years put together. A year that showed me that the world is tough, but tough people survive. A year that was all things good, some things not so nice, some tough, some soft, some filled with laughter, some joy....spiced with little tears, some heartaches, a tiny bit of sorrow. Years will come, hope each year is as wonderful as the last. My wish for the new year is that I wish to start on the following long pending work:

1. Have some patience while taking decisions
2. Some career planning
3. Where do i want to go from here
4. Get a new hobby
   

Here is wishing myself a very happy new year.

Arundhati Roy makes a case for Afzal...

Ofcourse Ms. Roy, your heart beats for the poor terrorist. After all the Union of India has not been able to prove his guilt with conclusive evidence. It doesnt matter that people laid down their lives as a consequence of his action, it doesnt matter that our soldiers fight on a valiant battle so that you can sleep in peace. Tell us Ms. Roy, other than that Booker of yours, have you done anything which has wiped a widow's tear or brought the smile on the face of an orphan?

Ms. Roy, you were not abroad IC 814. Ms. Roy, remember Rupin Katyal? They are the nameless people who have lost their lives because of people like you Ms. Roy. You come out on the streets demanding Human Rights for these terrorists. But, ofcourse; a Rupin Katyal, newly married, going back from his honeymoon has no Human Rights, our army men on the freezing mountain tops have no Human Rights, the 7/11 blast victims did not have Human Rights, a Priyadarshini Matoo has no Human Rights.

All animals are equal, some are more equal than the others.

dhaak......

I had started writing this post way back during Pujo last year. Never got around to publish it. Posting it as it is. Also there is a new video here. Dhaak....created by Rajesh Chakraborty, this does capture the essence that is Pujo. Aasche bochor aabar hobe, maa aabar aasbe....
___________________________________________________________

This is post long overdue. A lot has changed since my last proper post. My last day at Syntel was aeons back. In between I spent the months coming to terms with XL. In the blink the first Sem flew and here I am in the second Semester. But that is not the subject of this post. As the title suggests, this post is about the humble dhak.

"Dhaak", an image associated with Durga Poojo, "Dhaak", as can be described to a non bengalee, is a huge barrel-shaped drum, one end of which is decorated with feathers and on the other end the dhaaki, or the maestro; whose unsurpassed virtuosity finds expression in the frenzied pounding which invokes an almost hypnotic rapture.

In every Bangalee home, come autumn and young and old alike eagerly wait for the sound of dhaak. The first sounds, or as we say it dhakee porlo kaathi, brings with it the unfettered emotions of another year past. A year with its joy and sorrows, a year with its pain and triumph, everything is merged together on the five days of Pujo. Pujo aasche. Words that inspire. Words that trigger the memories of home. Every Probashi Bangalee, whereever he may be looks forward to planning to go home during Pujo. Every Bangalee, tracks his year by the Pujo. It is an expression of everything that is beautiful about life. It is an expression of the creativity, the spontaneity, the jubilation, it is an expression of life. And in this dhaak plays an important role of heralding the autumnal festival. No Durga Pujo can be complete without the hypnotic rhythm of the dhaak.

According to the Bengalee calendar, the days for the Durga Puja are counted on the basis of the sunrise and sunset while the tithi depends on the rising and setting of the moon. The Sasthi, Saptami, Nabami, and Dashami pujas are performed after sunrise even if they fall on the previous evenings. The Goddess is worshipped as a kumari or young girl, and later reveals herself in her true form on Mahasaptami (the seventh day of the moon). On Mahashtami (eighth day) and Mahanavami (ninth day) the celebrations reach a feverish pitch. On Dashami (tenth day) the idol of Durga is immersed in water. She is usually accompanied by what Bangalees hold as her family - Ganesha and Kartikeya - who are her sons, and the goddesses Lakshmi and Saraswati, who are supposed to be her daughters. This is a tradition unique to Bengal. The reason for this is that Durga is believed to come to Bengal not as the Mother Goddess, but as a daughter visiting her parent's home along with her children. She is believed to have lived a difficult life all year long in the Himalayan snows, and therefore a great deal of fuss about her comfort is made when she comes for a visit. The immersion of the goddess into the Ganga, after the pujo is over, is seen as the dissolution into the Universe of the Mother. This ceremony recreates that divine act of transcendence, as well as delivering a valuable lesson on the impermanence of all things, no matter how beautiful and valued they may be.

Auld Lang Syne

.........to all the brave officers and men of the olive hued army, that proudly defends our Motherland, everytime.......to all those who marched out of their homes in the Summer of 99, heads held high....never to return.....to all those mothers who let their son walk into the battle....to the wives who till date remember her dearest.....to those who died and those who lived....those who captured hill after hill after hill.....to those who were captured and I pray you return......on the 26th of July.....I am proud to say that I am your insignificant countryman....for whos tomorrow you gave your today................

Last day at Syntel

Finally the day comes, when I shall send out a good bye mail. Really not sure about how this is going to go. It is always difficult leaving a place you have been associated with for long. A mixture of nostalgia, sadness, happiness at moving on; a varied mix of emotions.

More on this after I finish the process.

Me?? A Wizard???!! Joke....

My Inner Hero - Wizard!





There are many types of magic, but all require a sharp mind and a cool head. There is no puzzle I can't solve, no problem I can't think my way out of. When you feel confused or uncertain, you can always rely on me to untangle the knots and put everything back in order for you.



How about you? Click here to find your own inner hero.

Bachelor house hunting...

Last two weeks were spent in house hunting. House hunting because, my great roomie rather dramatically decided to give notice to our house owner. And a house available in Mumbai goes off the market pretty soon. And that was the case with ours.

So we found ourselves, the trio plus DK who is going to take my place when I leave roaming on the streets of central suburb, looking for a house. From the swankiest apartment to the chawls, we saw them all. Befriended all the brokers and anyone who looked like a prospective house owner. I am happy to say we landed a small flat, at a very astronomical rate; that is beside the point, what I realized is that there is a difference between house hunting and bachelor house hunting.

House hunting is something, that I have seen my dad do. Usually within a week he would land a property worth shifting to or in the latest case worth buying. I in all my ignorance had never thought house hunting could be such a pain.

Case# 1

Flat on the 8th floor of the building. Newly built. No lifts. Note the point no lifts. The broker said the owner is expecting 4100/- pm and 8 months deposit. That's a fair enough bargain. We trooped in to see the house and speak to the owner. Seeing us, the rent goes up to 5100/- pm and the deposit is also hiked to 12 months. Now, that is illogical. We refused and walked off. Later we learn from the agent that the house owner did not want to let out to bachelors.

Case# 2

Flat on 1st floor of building. Excellent location. Initial rent 500/- Went up to 6000/-

After some more such incidences I came to the conclusion that people do not want to let out their flats to bachelors. Which brings us to a very important question, where all these uncles and society seniors born after their own wedding? They were never bachelors? Or, did they in the bachelor days do such things that they are afraid of bachelors in general?

Come on all you decision makers. We youngsters need a place to live. We have come from families similar to yours. We are also earning and/or studying. I am also some one's son. Maybe your son or daughter will move to a new city and they will have to face the same problem. Will you like it if they are refused accommodation in good societies and have to stay in not so great locales just because they are unmarried??

Hope better sense prevails.

Private Public Property

There is an unusual phenomenon I have noticed in India. Especially in the cities. There seems to be unusual amount of Private Public Property (PPP). This PPP can be anywhere and anything. The most common ones are the roads and the state transport buses and of course Indian Railways.

Just last evening, I had the experience of trespassing on one of these so called PPP. The trespass went like this. In Thane, where I stay, there new Eastern Express highway crosses over the railway lines on a swanky new bridge and this ends at a place called Teen Hath Naka. Now, since it is an express highway, there are no gaps in the Median in between and one has to go till the Naka if one wants to turn. There is an easier route, which is the service road next to the highway. Now, last week being Ambedkar Jayanti and all, this service road was completely taken over by members of a local club and they had put up pandal, yes pandals, also know as tents, that too in the middle of the road. If this was not enough, they had the nerve to question our driver, why he chose to come through that particular road leaving the express way. Hell, I chose which road I go through. After all roads are public property aren't they?

Roads are public property when it comes to throwing your garbage on it. People who go to great lengths to keep their homes spotless, will nevertheless nonchalantly spit on the road and walk on. And when it comes to digging up a perfectly well laid road, the aam junta are no better than the government bodies. Any occasion is an excuse enough to put up a pandal and that calls for digging up the road. You ask them and they say, 'chota sa gaddha to hai'. What we don't realise is that small pit in the road will grow to become a nightmarish pothole.

Speaking of PPP, have you ever noticed how certain people make the suburban trains their private property? Just recently one lady was pushed out from a running train in Mumbai, because she dared climb into a local which had not originated from her junction. How stupid can you get? You kill some one for that? I know no action will be taken. As usual, people will escape under the guise of the mob. And some one else will pay for life, with life.

Sometimes I really wonder, is this a relic of our colonial past. Saala, sarkarri hai. Aapna kya jaata hai? People expect that the government will provide good roads, clean drinking water, high speed rail network etc. etc. "It is our fundamental right", it is said. But what about duties. Do we only have rights and no duties? Is only the government which is responsible for creating a nation which reflects the prosperity that it actually has? Are we not the citizens of this nation, or are we citizens of only our homes? Maybe we are neither, but a bunch of selfish, narrow minded individuals, who think we are the best in the world.

What kind of seducer are you???

Your Seduction Style: Au Natural

You rank up there with your seduction skills, though you might not know it. That's because you're a natural at seduction. You don't realize your power! The root of your natural seduction power: your innocence and optimism. You're the type of person who happily plays around and creates a unique little world. Little do you know that your personal paradise is so appealing that it sucks people in. You find joy in everything - so is it any surprise that people find joy in you? You bring back the inner child in everyone you meet with your sincere and spontaneous ways. Your childlike (but not childish) behavior also inspires others to care for you. As a result, those who you befriend and date tend to be incredibly loyal to you.

Small thought.....

Just wanted to ask this.....

To all guys:

What would your reaction be, if after you marry, your wife insists on keeping her collection of barbie dolls and soft toys in the bedroom.

To all gals:

What would your reaction be if your husband wants to play hard rock and trance late into the night??

Just wondering what would my reaction be.....