Where's my purpose?
Time : 8:06 am
Place : Al Ain , UAE
A more precise place : On my bed .
State of mind : %#^@
( Chacha choudhury padha he kabhi tu, jab use gusa ata he to esa hi galiyan bak ta he)
First of all , I am not sad or angry. I have a decent job , a family I love , friends I love, and a security guard I am beginning to love ( Things a lonely existence does to me ) . So it would take a fully loaded nuclear attack and a couple of Himesh Reshammiya's CDs to make me feel sad . On a related note , I just saw the video of "teri yaad na aye" from Himesh on MTV . The guy is crying lakes in the video . I had this urge to actually reach into the screen , wipe his face with a tissue and say "Na munna na , sab theek ho jayega ."
But even though I am not sad , I have a little thought nibbling on me this morning . The more I live , the more I realise two things . First , I still don't have a 'purpose' in my life . And second , now that I have lived some more , I have lesser time to find that purpose .It is like 5 years back I was "Chill yar . I am only 20 . Only Buddha found a purpose in life at that age." But Now I am like "Umm . I am almost 25 . And I think I will find a bigger meaning in life right after a little nap. "
Sure , I have phases of 'being driven' in my life . Like I wake up and say 'Right . Today I will call the Etisalat Customer care people and tell them they should be looting banks in ski masks and not calling themselves a telecom service provider for all the scary things they are doing to my connection'. So little purposes about getting my cell connection up , analysing concrete consumption in different projects , ironing my shirt for the next day and such micro sized things dot my day .But there is nothing which connects all these dots and makes me say " Oh right . Now all the things that seemed stupid and mundane to me make sense".I don't have a purpose which unites all the things I do and drives me and makes me say "Oh yeah , so this is what it was all about". In fact , that's the problem bugging me right now . I don't know what's it all about .Maybe there isn't supposed to be a purpose , a bigger meaning in life . Just live , have fun , eat good chinese food , watch movies , and of course , there is the security guard .
Starting a holi day with such things which would beat a well with their depth is not a great idea . I can almost imagine Lord Buddha sitting up there on a cloud and shaking his head and telling me "Take it easy kid . It's a holi day after all . You know what that means for a working chap ? So gulp some sandwiches and a hot coffee and flip on FTV and everything will make sense ."
Now keep the purpose thing aside and tell me why things like this are happening to me.
A couple of days back , I got a call .
Me : Hello
The other guy : ~ Something in malayalam~
Me : Sorry , wrong number .
( If 1 guy calls me and talks in malayalam , he doesn't know me . Or he really trusts my language picking speed )
The other guy : ~ Some more malayalam ~
Me : Ok . That was interesting . Bye .
( 5 minutes later . The same guy calls up )
T.O.G ( Do I tell you what that stands for ? Get yourself a brain surgeon . It's "The Other Guy" ): ~ Some more malayalam ~
Me : See , yeh wrong number hain . This is a wrong number . Galat . Galat . Wrong . ok ?
T.O.G : ~ Malayalam ~ ( Agitated voice . . I really hope he is not a member of LTTE )
Me : Ok . The guy you want to talk is wearing a pink scarf and sitting in a big garden and eating cherries . Please don't call . WRONG NUMBER . GALAT ! GALAT !
But the mallu caller hasn't understood this since then . He has called me some seven times over the last two days . So now our conversation goes like this
T.O.G : ~ Malayalam ~
Me : Krissh dekh lee bhai ?
T.O.G : ~Malayalam ~
Me : Zidane to pagal hain .
T.O.G : ~ Malayalam ~
Me : Ha Ha ! Well said .
I don't know why this guy still calls me . He will have to wait till I finish my "Learn malayalam in 30 days " book . It's been almost two months I've been reading it .
All the kids please get up and clap because my breakfast is finally here . And nothing gets in between a hungry pupu and a hot breakfast . So now yours truly will step back into his big bad mallu world . Let's pacify the rats in my tummy now . As for the purpose of life ...umm....pehle kha leta hoon !
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Feeling like a celebrity
Till 5 pm last sunday , I was convinced the day would go down as the worst day of my life , my personal 'Black sunday' or something . My shoes smelt like ammonium nitrate . The signals on my cell were as weak as an underfed riya sen . And I was wearing the same shirt for the third consecutive day ( I was lucky my co workers thought the smell was from a dead rat in the water cooler ) . So after excusing my self from the office with a little tabiyat ka bahana , I went to the beach hoping for a time better than the day had been . ( Infact I hoped to end up rolling in the sand with a couple of blondes , but anything less glamorous would have been well received too ). As I stood near the waves watching the sun set and wondering where my next clean shirt would come from , this person walks upto me and asks "Is your name Anirudh ?".I nervously shifted on my feet and did a little mental check of the safest direction to run away , because I thought he was from the shopping mall near my house .( I am a regular visitor there with the intention of bulling with the sales girls. Little devil I am. ) But it turned out the man reads this blog and recognised me from my pictures on orkut . His family was with him too and even they were aware of my existence . We spent quite some time chatting and though it did not involve anyone rolling in the sand , the sheer unexpectedness of the thing and the warmth of the family promptly transformed my black sunday into a sparkling floodlights lit surf excel washed Sweet Sunday with some home made bengali sweets which they offered me.
Then i realised that at times , even though we are rude , wicked , selfish , insensitive and other words associated with an excited Gulshan Grover , such moments remind me that in our hearts we still want to be loving and caring.
Its been a very lonley life for me for the past 4 years, With all these old men around, without a friend close by to share anything. (Not chaadies). Even my family memebrs are getting bored talking to me more than 10 mins.
So I am planning to comapny my self and I also plan to stop over at the beach regulary. You never know , someone blonde may just agree to roll in the sand with me .
Till 5 pm last sunday , I was convinced the day would go down as the worst day of my life , my personal 'Black sunday' or something . My shoes smelt like ammonium nitrate . The signals on my cell were as weak as an underfed riya sen . And I was wearing the same shirt for the third consecutive day ( I was lucky my co workers thought the smell was from a dead rat in the water cooler ) . So after excusing my self from the office with a little tabiyat ka bahana , I went to the beach hoping for a time better than the day had been . ( Infact I hoped to end up rolling in the sand with a couple of blondes , but anything less glamorous would have been well received too ). As I stood near the waves watching the sun set and wondering where my next clean shirt would come from , this person walks upto me and asks "Is your name Anirudh ?".I nervously shifted on my feet and did a little mental check of the safest direction to run away , because I thought he was from the shopping mall near my house .( I am a regular visitor there with the intention of bulling with the sales girls. Little devil I am. ) But it turned out the man reads this blog and recognised me from my pictures on orkut . His family was with him too and even they were aware of my existence . We spent quite some time chatting and though it did not involve anyone rolling in the sand , the sheer unexpectedness of the thing and the warmth of the family promptly transformed my black sunday into a sparkling floodlights lit surf excel washed Sweet Sunday with some home made bengali sweets which they offered me.
Then i realised that at times , even though we are rude , wicked , selfish , insensitive and other words associated with an excited Gulshan Grover , such moments remind me that in our hearts we still want to be loving and caring.
Its been a very lonley life for me for the past 4 years, With all these old men around, without a friend close by to share anything. (Not chaadies). Even my family memebrs are getting bored talking to me more than 10 mins.
So I am planning to comapny my self and I also plan to stop over at the beach regulary. You never know , someone blonde may just agree to roll in the sand with me .
Sunday, October 19, 2008
The Dove is Happy, Flying...............
Place the nail lightly on the wood. Don’t hold it too hard. It should be held lightly.Vertically.The tip just touching the wood's surface.Now.Now.Bring down the hammer in one graceful swipe , hitting the head of the nail right on.Thuck.The nail slides down the wood , passing through its interiors in one smooth motion till its head stops against the surface.
Dear "bored-with-work" / "bored-without-work" readers,that was it. That was the last nail in the coffee colored teak coffin of my little story with "her". She has found someone better than me. She is with him now, And after all the tears and hurt I gave her , even Osama Bin Laden with all his Bazookas and Rocket Launchers would seem better than me. But Seriously,"he" must be a better guy than me. Am I sad ? I do not know. There is this stupid tree with the breeze of life passing through it. A dove comes along on sits on this tree's branch.The tree wants this dove to stay forever.But it flies off , because it has to. And the tree should be happy. The dove left its branch. But somewhere , this dove is flying , sailing in a cool breeze and happy.
And its all my doing. Trust me . All my doing.
Regrets. I do not believe in them. Memories. They stay forever.But they are just black and white Kodak moments from the past. And Life is to be lived.
Lived. Love is not about finding someone to love oneself.Its about loving someone.Oh my.Love.Pretty confusing word. Infact , love has been confused with 'possession' by these hat wearing bollywood directors who keep shouting 'cut' and 'action' and 'lights' all day.
Advani meets Sonia. Advani whispers "Kehdo na , you are my Sonia".This is the slide where all the trouble starts. We can consider killing the director right at this scene. What Advani wants is to Sonia to remain with himself. Himself.Him.Advani.The central pin.What he wants is not Sonia to be happy.Sonia can remain happy with Manmohan. But nah.Advani wants Sonia. Not Sonia's happiness. Advani doesnt love Sonia.
He loves himself.
Sonia is happy sipping a "two-straws-one-glass" lassi with Manmohan.
So Advani Bhai , let her be happy , if you truly love her.
A mother wont ever do something which will make her child unhappy. Even if she has to undergo hurt. Because for her , There is no "Kehdo na , you are mine".Its just the child's happiness she wants. Just the child. The child. No herself. The mother just wishes a smile on her child's face. For her , she herself does not exist in the picture. Thats love.
Maybe this seems a very practically difficult way to love , but then just when you get practical about love , it ceases to be love.
I feel peaceful. She has hopefully found someone who was meant for her. Who can give her more smiles than the tears I gave to her. And my clock says its past 3 in the morning. I better find my place amongst the empty pepsi cans , dirty shirts , strewn newspapers and compact disks along with some mottu bed bugs on my bed now. Because I have to wake up to a new day tomorrow. To savour a new day of this gift , a bundle of experiences , called life.
Added Later : This post has nothing to do with any living or dead person including me, this is totally fictitious and written in anger of not having a “She” in life.
Sometime I pray to GOD asking "bhagwan girl friend nhi to atleast uski judaii ka gum to dedo"
Kitna diplomatic wish he………………… Samjh mein aya kya?
Place the nail lightly on the wood. Don’t hold it too hard. It should be held lightly.Vertically.The tip just touching the wood's surface.Now.Now.Bring down the hammer in one graceful swipe , hitting the head of the nail right on.Thuck.The nail slides down the wood , passing through its interiors in one smooth motion till its head stops against the surface.
Dear "bored-with-work" / "bored-without-work" readers,that was it. That was the last nail in the coffee colored teak coffin of my little story with "her". She has found someone better than me. She is with him now, And after all the tears and hurt I gave her , even Osama Bin Laden with all his Bazookas and Rocket Launchers would seem better than me. But Seriously,"he" must be a better guy than me. Am I sad ? I do not know. There is this stupid tree with the breeze of life passing through it. A dove comes along on sits on this tree's branch.The tree wants this dove to stay forever.But it flies off , because it has to. And the tree should be happy. The dove left its branch. But somewhere , this dove is flying , sailing in a cool breeze and happy.
And its all my doing. Trust me . All my doing.
Regrets. I do not believe in them. Memories. They stay forever.But they are just black and white Kodak moments from the past. And Life is to be lived.
Lived. Love is not about finding someone to love oneself.Its about loving someone.Oh my.Love.Pretty confusing word. Infact , love has been confused with 'possession' by these hat wearing bollywood directors who keep shouting 'cut' and 'action' and 'lights' all day.
Advani meets Sonia. Advani whispers "Kehdo na , you are my Sonia".This is the slide where all the trouble starts. We can consider killing the director right at this scene. What Advani wants is to Sonia to remain with himself. Himself.Him.Advani.The central pin.What he wants is not Sonia to be happy.Sonia can remain happy with Manmohan. But nah.Advani wants Sonia. Not Sonia's happiness. Advani doesnt love Sonia.
He loves himself.
Sonia is happy sipping a "two-straws-one-glass" lassi with Manmohan.
So Advani Bhai , let her be happy , if you truly love her.
A mother wont ever do something which will make her child unhappy. Even if she has to undergo hurt. Because for her , There is no "Kehdo na , you are mine".Its just the child's happiness she wants. Just the child. The child. No herself. The mother just wishes a smile on her child's face. For her , she herself does not exist in the picture. Thats love.
Maybe this seems a very practically difficult way to love , but then just when you get practical about love , it ceases to be love.
I feel peaceful. She has hopefully found someone who was meant for her. Who can give her more smiles than the tears I gave to her. And my clock says its past 3 in the morning. I better find my place amongst the empty pepsi cans , dirty shirts , strewn newspapers and compact disks along with some mottu bed bugs on my bed now. Because I have to wake up to a new day tomorrow. To savour a new day of this gift , a bundle of experiences , called life.
Added Later : This post has nothing to do with any living or dead person including me, this is totally fictitious and written in anger of not having a “She” in life.
Sometime I pray to GOD asking "bhagwan girl friend nhi to atleast uski judaii ka gum to dedo"
Kitna diplomatic wish he………………… Samjh mein aya kya?
Added much later : When i wrote "Judaii ka gum" i never expected or meant that it wd be a re-eaten big babool chewing gum which i received attached to an E-mail, & for sure not from GOD.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Maaaaaaar Daaaalaaaaaaa
D E A T H.
Bad word , hai na ? Ma says its a bad word.Papa says dont say it.Its a bad word.Death , nah , dont talk about it , chup paagal.Even in the movies , the heroine places her finger on the hero's lips before he can complete the sentence and whispers "Kabhi marne kee baat matt karna.Aisa nahee kehte".
But, its coming yaar.Death.It will happen.To me.To you.Acchha yaar , now stop yelling "manhoos" , chup chaap baat sun.What if I were to die after half an hour.I shall never be able to feel ma's palm on my forehead again.I shall never hear my sister call me a gadha again.I shall never be able to tell dad that even though I always try to act smart , he is the greatest guy I have ever known. I shall never be able to tell the departmental store guy that I stole 3 eggs from his shop yesterday.Ok , dont dial 100 , the eggs wala part is not true. How could you imagine that yaar , me and stealing eggs ? Mein to last one & half years se vegetarian bangaya hun. I steal carrots and dhania.
But seriously , death scares me.It scares me to be away from my loved ones.It scares me to die without doing all the things I want to do. It scares me that I may die. But death is real. And I may die after a year. I may die tomorrow after coming from the work, If I do go to work. I may die before I complete this post.( But now that I have published it , I did not die before completing it,right ? Soch ke dekh ).
Now you may smirk and say "arre yaar , aise thode hee koee mar jaata hai".But I have seen lives shattering in the blink of an eye. A second's delay in hitting the brakes , a leaking gas cylinder , a desperate and armed domestic help in enough to change your life in a radical way , before you can say "maar daala".And not like Madhuri said it in Devdaas.
But the point is not to be scared of dying.
The point is to be scared of dying without really living.
I see around me. I see people I care for. Sometimes I see them sad . I see them clinging to bad memories , things which they cannot change , things which still hurt them , things which make tears flow down their cheeks. I know they are hurt and have reasons to feel sad. But life is not forever .Life is nothing but a limited number of moments gifted to us by god. And each moment is slipping by.Right now , a moment just passed by me , and took me closer to death , leaving me with lesser time to smile ,to crack some poor joke , to see my maa laugh , to see a friend find the happiness he deserves , to be a good person , to make someone smile , to live.And the very thought of letting such a precious moment drown in a tear leaves me restless. Why do we people hurt each other , when this life may not be long enough to love each other ?
May be you need to know that you may never get a chance to be the good man you could have been. Maybe you need to know that the moment you have been waiting for to tell others how much you love them may never arrive. May be you need to know that you may never have the time to wipe off the tears you are causing today. Maybe you need to know that death is a surprisingly unexpected reality. Maybe you need to start living the life you should.
I know I know , I am saying nothing new. But life and the things it does to people and the things people do to it continue to amuse me.In short , ek baat bolta hun , all of us should respect and enjoy the ride , because hamari life kee taxi mein petrol kabhi bhi khatm ho sakta hain. Sorry , ho sakta hai its diesel in your life kee taxi. And marne ke baad , you cant even fight with the cab driver. So smile , khush raho , muskurao , jeeyo ,and make people smile , kyunki ..kal ho na ho.Wait a minute ..kal ho na ho..yaar ye phrase kuch suna hua nahee lagta ?
D E A T H.
Bad word , hai na ? Ma says its a bad word.Papa says dont say it.Its a bad word.Death , nah , dont talk about it , chup paagal.Even in the movies , the heroine places her finger on the hero's lips before he can complete the sentence and whispers "Kabhi marne kee baat matt karna.Aisa nahee kehte".
But, its coming yaar.Death.It will happen.To me.To you.Acchha yaar , now stop yelling "manhoos" , chup chaap baat sun.What if I were to die after half an hour.I shall never be able to feel ma's palm on my forehead again.I shall never hear my sister call me a gadha again.I shall never be able to tell dad that even though I always try to act smart , he is the greatest guy I have ever known. I shall never be able to tell the departmental store guy that I stole 3 eggs from his shop yesterday.Ok , dont dial 100 , the eggs wala part is not true. How could you imagine that yaar , me and stealing eggs ? Mein to last one & half years se vegetarian bangaya hun. I steal carrots and dhania.
But seriously , death scares me.It scares me to be away from my loved ones.It scares me to die without doing all the things I want to do. It scares me that I may die. But death is real. And I may die after a year. I may die tomorrow after coming from the work, If I do go to work. I may die before I complete this post.( But now that I have published it , I did not die before completing it,right ? Soch ke dekh ).
Now you may smirk and say "arre yaar , aise thode hee koee mar jaata hai".But I have seen lives shattering in the blink of an eye. A second's delay in hitting the brakes , a leaking gas cylinder , a desperate and armed domestic help in enough to change your life in a radical way , before you can say "maar daala".And not like Madhuri said it in Devdaas.
But the point is not to be scared of dying.
The point is to be scared of dying without really living.
I see around me. I see people I care for. Sometimes I see them sad . I see them clinging to bad memories , things which they cannot change , things which still hurt them , things which make tears flow down their cheeks. I know they are hurt and have reasons to feel sad. But life is not forever .Life is nothing but a limited number of moments gifted to us by god. And each moment is slipping by.Right now , a moment just passed by me , and took me closer to death , leaving me with lesser time to smile ,to crack some poor joke , to see my maa laugh , to see a friend find the happiness he deserves , to be a good person , to make someone smile , to live.And the very thought of letting such a precious moment drown in a tear leaves me restless. Why do we people hurt each other , when this life may not be long enough to love each other ?
May be you need to know that you may never get a chance to be the good man you could have been. Maybe you need to know that the moment you have been waiting for to tell others how much you love them may never arrive. May be you need to know that you may never have the time to wipe off the tears you are causing today. Maybe you need to know that death is a surprisingly unexpected reality. Maybe you need to start living the life you should.
I know I know , I am saying nothing new. But life and the things it does to people and the things people do to it continue to amuse me.In short , ek baat bolta hun , all of us should respect and enjoy the ride , because hamari life kee taxi mein petrol kabhi bhi khatm ho sakta hain. Sorry , ho sakta hai its diesel in your life kee taxi. And marne ke baad , you cant even fight with the cab driver. So smile , khush raho , muskurao , jeeyo ,and make people smile , kyunki ..kal ho na ho.Wait a minute ..kal ho na ho..yaar ye phrase kuch suna hua nahee lagta ?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Happy Belated ( Ouch! ) Birthday!
There are some moments in life when your mind feels like the inside of a salwar kameez store full of ladies during the annual discount store . There are some moments in life when you wish your leg was flexible enough to curve back and land a sunny deol-ish kick on your own behind bad enough to render your morning rituals ineffective for three months . There are some moments in life when you wish you could rewind life and clean up all the mistakes you did.
It hit me when she sent me a very comforting “I will kill you” on gtalk some time back and I blurted out a ‘Shit!’ so loud , all the babies in the neighborhood soiled their chaddis.I know I sound like I have done something as bad as becoming an unwed daddy of twins , but what I have done is worse than that – I forgot S’s birthday.
For those of you ‘jinhone apne TV set derr se khole ho’, S is a friend so close, we get any closer and the Shiv Sainiks will go berserk. I mean , the word ‘friend’ seems as weak as an A K hangal when it comes to what she is to me . Along with my family , she is one of those very few people who I know will be around all life. And even as I type this , I can’t believe I forgot her birthday. And even though I can write her a mail about this , I want this blog to know how special she is.
S , I know I have been as insensitive as a paralyzed log at times , but you are one person with whom I share too many fond memories. Doing practical together. The aimless chatter over telephone. Your mock proposal which still makes me blush. Wo ladai jhagda. Uski drawings se mera topo marna. (Don’t ask what is “Topo” , then u have to join some engineering college and study it.). Wo milke picnics, functions arrange karna, Tera practical marks keliye rona aur mera hasna , I guess they can make a seventy episode soap opera about our time together.
So now to make it up to you , I will get the date of your birthday tattooed on my arm in permanent ink even if it makes my arm look like a reminder pad . I will go around telling everyone you are a Miss India finalist even if you put on weight . I will buy you a huge exotica chocolate and that disgustingly fatty ice cream you like when I will come to India even if you don’t want to eat . I will be there on every special day of your life from your next birthday to the birthdays of your grandkids even if I have seven meetings lined up on the day . I will tell my wife your smile is dazzling enough to light up all the Bhubaneswar from power shed, even if she goes green and calls up her lawyer. I won’t regret writing all this even if “X” rearranges all the bones in my body.
And I am so sorry for being so stupid even if you say you are not angry.
Happy Belated Birthday !!
There are some moments in life when your mind feels like the inside of a salwar kameez store full of ladies during the annual discount store . There are some moments in life when you wish your leg was flexible enough to curve back and land a sunny deol-ish kick on your own behind bad enough to render your morning rituals ineffective for three months . There are some moments in life when you wish you could rewind life and clean up all the mistakes you did.
It hit me when she sent me a very comforting “I will kill you” on gtalk some time back and I blurted out a ‘Shit!’ so loud , all the babies in the neighborhood soiled their chaddis.I know I sound like I have done something as bad as becoming an unwed daddy of twins , but what I have done is worse than that – I forgot S’s birthday.
For those of you ‘jinhone apne TV set derr se khole ho’, S is a friend so close, we get any closer and the Shiv Sainiks will go berserk. I mean , the word ‘friend’ seems as weak as an A K hangal when it comes to what she is to me . Along with my family , she is one of those very few people who I know will be around all life. And even as I type this , I can’t believe I forgot her birthday. And even though I can write her a mail about this , I want this blog to know how special she is.
S , I know I have been as insensitive as a paralyzed log at times , but you are one person with whom I share too many fond memories. Doing practical together. The aimless chatter over telephone. Your mock proposal which still makes me blush. Wo ladai jhagda. Uski drawings se mera topo marna. (Don’t ask what is “Topo” , then u have to join some engineering college and study it.). Wo milke picnics, functions arrange karna, Tera practical marks keliye rona aur mera hasna , I guess they can make a seventy episode soap opera about our time together.
So now to make it up to you , I will get the date of your birthday tattooed on my arm in permanent ink even if it makes my arm look like a reminder pad . I will go around telling everyone you are a Miss India finalist even if you put on weight . I will buy you a huge exotica chocolate and that disgustingly fatty ice cream you like when I will come to India even if you don’t want to eat . I will be there on every special day of your life from your next birthday to the birthdays of your grandkids even if I have seven meetings lined up on the day . I will tell my wife your smile is dazzling enough to light up all the Bhubaneswar from power shed, even if she goes green and calls up her lawyer. I won’t regret writing all this even if “X” rearranges all the bones in my body.
And I am so sorry for being so stupid even if you say you are not angry.
Happy Belated Birthday !!
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Uncle Rasta Bataoona
No seriously, I don’t know if this classifies me as a handicapped person , but I can not type stuff about a particular single topic. I mean, people leave comments (Including my sis ) saying the blog lacks direction , is shallow and contains content stupid enough to make Govinda look like a philosopher . But after twenty minutes of trying to write something sensible , like something which expresses my concern over HIV infected kids in Rwanda , or something which tries to tell the world that we must save the blue whales or the royal Bengal tigers before they are all dead , I decided that there are enough pillars of the society to do that , and I also decided that I am hungry .
For one , what’s wrong with Aaj Tak people ? I mean , I had a feeling they were pretty low on news the day I saw a 30 minute capsule named “Yeh kaisa rishta” which was about a female monkey in Madhya Pradesh which was bringing up half a dozen pups and picking their lice and feeding them her own milk ( As if I have ever seen a monkey buying polypacks from a mother dairy). But if someone was to watch Aaj Tak over the last 15 days , he would be absolutely confident that the only man who is left on the face of this earth is the Great Khali , the mahabali Darinda , ‘Jo apne dushmano ko kuchal deta hai’ , ‘Jiska naam sunte hee uske dushmano ki aatma kaanp jaati hai’ , and , I heard this yesterday , ‘Jo duss babbar shero jitna taakatwar hai’ . Oh , by the way , if you don’t know who Khali is , he is a WWE wrestler of Indian Origin who is 7’3” , weighs 190 kgs and you should be very happy you don’t owe him any money. I guess Khali would discover a lot of information about himself if he starts watching Aaj Tak regularly.
Also , I watched ‘Race’ recently . To cut it short , and to save 175 bucks on the ticket and 85 bucks on the burger + coke , it’s a movie where everybody is evil with a head bubbling with deadly plans , everybody is in bed with somebody , and everybody is driving an exotic car which costs around fifty times my expected lifetime earnings . But the movie left me with a very disturbing message – “You wanna be a winner ? Please kill those morals first” . I mean , if I would have watched that movie when I was six , I would have grown up thinking that being truthful is an insult . Not that I am a Harishchandra-2 , but the people in the flick do not even try. Of course , there is one another image from the movie which will not leave me till I breathe my last – That of a topless Akshaye Khanna standing chest facing towards the camera . At least three XL sized sweaters could have been knitted out of the hair on his chest, I swear. Add Anil Kapoor to that , and you have the raw material for the complete winter collection of Rohit ‘Bal’ .
And ever since Arjun Singh has played around with the “quotas” , my mother has been wandering around the house murmuring “Jaane Pupu ke baccho ka admission kaise hoga” . Pupu is me , and that means she is already worried if my kids would be able to go to schools and colleges with the kind of direction this country is headed to . No offences , but over my schooling & engineering there have been numerous occasions when students from the reserved categories have made it while far smarter and deserving ones have been left in the cold. It’s all too moving to read about the son of the rickshaw puller who made it to Infosys , but what about the guy from the general category who had double the brains but could not get into a decent engineering college because the rickshaw puller’s son got in through the quota ? I am sure that one day, there will be little kids dropping years to get into nursery class. By the way , coming to think of it , I actually wonder how my kids will make it to a good college anyway , especially if they inherit my IQ.
By the way mera certified IQ 104 he. Tera test karke dekh kitna score karta he.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Bijli ka bill kon bharega ?
I resigned from KEC and joined in a new one and I have been posted in Abu Dhabi .
Reactions to the news :
Mom : "Wanha apna khayal rakh na "
Papa : " Char mahina ghar mein muft ki roti toda, Dhoop mein bhagega abhi to saab niklega ?"
Sister : " Tera company ka Antarkatika mein project hota to acha hota!"
All other relatives: "Ab isko shaadi karwa do."
Guy friends : "Paisa ke piche bhagke Osama ke hato marega ek din."
Friends who are girls : "Abu Dhabi mein ladkiyon ko Judo karate sikh na hoga abhi ." ( Note kiya kitna acha hun mein )
Boss : "Jaan chootee"
Would Be Boss : "Why me ??"
I don't know if it has been on discovery channel , but now I know for sure what occurs within eight minutes of a 26 year old boy landing on a decent job - planets , comets , asteroids and a number of defunctioning satellites arrange themselves in a mysterious pattern in space which leads to a cosmic energy burst infusing thoughts regarding the boy's marriage in the minds of anyone having a mind remotely aware of his existence .
Now I am just 26 , a very innocent 'kacchi kali' level age where I drool all over in my sleep , think pink frocks look cute , drop half my ketchup on my tee shirt, can’t tie my shoe lace and have this tendency to suck my thumb under acute psychological pressure . But strangely , from the day I have been back at home , thoughts of my marriage are being considered as normal as a sardaar in a joke.
Papa has been sneering me with a 'Beta abhi shaadi hogi to pata chalega world war ke time kaisa feel hota tha' followed by the traditional evil laugh .Sister has been raising her left eyebrow disturbingly high with a sly smile every time I talk of a female friend . And maa asks a "kaun thee ? " whenver my telephonic conversations with any girl exceeds three seconds . In short , while a year ago I was supposed to jump behind the nearest flowerpot at the sight of a girl, clutch the hanuman locket around my neck and remind myself that I need to make my career,these days no one is going to subject me to a round of honor killings if I keep walking and say a hello to her. After all , ab 2-3 saal mein shaadi to karega hi.
Now I have never been a guy who does the conventional thing , else I would not have poked a rubber band in my nose just to see what happens when I was a kid ( And never , I mean never ask me what happened .Stirs up too many horrible memories). So am not going to marry because every Indian guy is supposed to marry between the age of 24 and 30 .Instead , I need to think and decide if it's a good idea to marry at all.Of course , my parents expect me to marry in the next 2-4 years and show them the thobda of a fat little grandkid in 5-6 years , which , incidentally is a thing completely independent of marriage in my noble opinion .
I am always imagining things .In class , I used to imagine what I wd do if Bill Gates adopt me and make his waris to keep awake against the boring lectures. So maybe I should imagine what my life would be like if I marry / I stay a kacchi kali ( or bachelor in more under 18 level terms) .
Scenario 1 :I marry .
Now , due to an itch behind my left ear and a lack of decent names , let me name my imaginary wife , bijli devi . ( Abe tube light Basanti girl friend thi) Like any husband in a hurry , I will address her as Bijli. But you think of her as Mrs.Bijli Devi , she is not your wife after all .
I know how attractive I am . Like I was telling a friend recently , when I was seven , my classmate vomited and fainted when I proposed to her (Of course Ladki thi, ganda dimag) and I am still viewed with suspicion if any of my classmate or colleagues remain absent being sick . So mine would not be the case where Bijli first spots me as I kick start my humara Baja in the parking lot of my office and thinks I look very macho when my foot comes down and falls in love with me and thinks about me every time she hears a scooter's vroom and proposes to me the next time I am kicking my scooter and sparks fly and end up in our marriage . Even If I like someone , I am the sort of guy who feels all right after ten minutes of reading dilbert , a very "Theek hai yar , wo kaunsa mujhe pasand karti " kinda lad . So it is not very probable that I am going to propose to any prospective Bijli either . So Bijli shall come and electrify my life through an arranged marriage . Hopefully , Bijli will like me as any wife likes her husband . She will ignore my emotionally disturbing table manners , an absolute disregard for 'log kya kahenge' and my four extra canines custom made to make me look like drakula ka ristedar . I will also try to keep her happy . Kids will happen and unwarned shit and piss will happen . Me and Bijli will fight sometimes , maybe , but I won't hit her , atleast not on the head . She will also hit me , and that's fine unless she uses the flowervase or the chair .But if she hits me on the head , I don't promise I won't hit her on the head . In short , me and bijli and our kids will be a nice little family . A happy family is more important for me than anything else ( except aishwarya's legs maybe ) , so I will try to keep my family cool . Keywords : Bijli . Kids. Kid Shit on sofa . Kid Piss on keyboard . Love . A little fighting . Smiles . Kid's fees . Bijli's beauty parlor expenses . A taj mahal sized RESPONSIBILITY .
Scenario 2 :No shaadi . No Bijli.
My parents won't be happy . An emotional moment when I declare they are grandparents to a kid I adopted while working in Tanzania won't make them happy either . In short , my parents won't be happy with me if no Bijli flows into my life's lamp . They will blame all the spiritual stuff I read and all the bearded guys in saffron alive . As for me , I don't have much idea about what kind of activities , apart from writing insane things in this blog, I shall be indulging in . Maybe I will retire from work at 35 , sponsor a kid in the meantime , and spend the rest of my life touring exotic places around the world. I really don't know . I read about the meaning of life and think about it and try to read wisdom stuff , but don't know how I can use that by staying out of relations . Keywords : Freedom . Little responsibility . Unhappy parents . Early retirement . Financial ease .Meaning of life . (No Saffron MIND it)
So these are the options before me . I still have time before I come to the stage when I have to make a decision . Of course , life is like my cooking , I can put in a lot of masalas and flour and sugar but can never be sure of what comes out . Maybe I will move onto a higher level of awareness and life without marriage . Maybe I will feel the need for some Bijli when I am 40 and get a '40 but in showroom condition' types matrimonial add printed in the papers .Maybe I will find bliss in unconditional and unpossesive love I will hold for Bijli and our little sparky kids . Maybe Bijli will be very angry at the way I sit at the dining table and hit me . And if she hits me on the head , I bet Bijli shall be subjected to an electrifying revenge .
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Basanti tumhara naam kya he?
I am not a social scientist. I am not even an 'intellectual-awakened-liberated' youth specimen who holds an opinion on everything from the tattoo on Rakhi Sawant's shoulder to Mongolia's nuclear policy. I am not the kind of driven youth who would lie awake at nights , look at the stars and think of ways to double India's GDP.I am a guy with views as superficial as Tusar Kapooraha 's acting skills and my understanding of social trends runs as deep as the neck line of a nun's gown. But lately , I am beginning to notice the subtle extermination of a rather happy social species - The Single male .
When I was a kid , having a girlfriend meant two things about the guy :
1. The guy ranks somewhere between Matt Damon and George Clooney on the looks index.He walks by a women's college and the girls trample the professor in their hurry to run out and catch a glimpse .
2. The guy ranks somewhere between Mukesh Ambani and Richard Branson on the financial standing index. He frequently uses a hundred rupee note to wipe his nose and his bank needed to hire an extra floor to stack his cash deposits.
But now , not having a girlfriend says two things about the guy :
1. He is gay.
2. He is definitely gay.
I mean , I look around and see even convicts serving life sentences in Tihar going around in the jail premises with the female convicts from the ladies ward. Guys who aren't even close to respecting a woman have girlfriends . Even Mika has girlfriends - two of them. To be as short as Ayesha Takia's skirt , I guess most of the Indian guys in the age group of 16-30 have a girlfriend.('Tell-me-why' query - Can someone explain to me why having a girlfriend is termed "going around" ? Does it originate from the hindi films wherein Rishi Kapoor and Neetu Singh spent countless hours running in circles around trees , bushes and water fountains ?).
And this social development confuses me and poses an intriguing question - When everyone around me is "going around" , and I am single , and not gay , why do I feel a girlfriend is a pretty ( or not-so-pretty) friend who eats up personal independence and hikes up phone bills ? To make things more rational , let me imagine I have a girlfriend , whom I shall call Basanti as a mark of respect to the evergreen Hema Ji. Now let me see how 'going around' with Basanti can dent my life.
1. "Kis se baat kar raha tha ?"
Basanti calls me up and finds my number to be busy .And even though the pre recorded Airtel voice says "The number you are trying to call is currently busy . Please try after some time" , Basanti hears " The guy you are trying to call up is highly cheap . He is talking to Shruti right now and is expressing is undying love to her . He may claim he was talking to his mother. Dont trust him . "Soon after I disconnect the call to ma , Basanti calls me up and before I can say a hello , yells a "Go to Hell ! And take Shruti along with you !" shattering my eardrum. The insecurity of Basanti . Sigh.
2." Wo kutta pack kar deejiye"
So it is second anniversary of the day me and Basanti first had Pav Bhaji together and she expects a gift . It's not just a gift , but a sweet 'nishani' which carries the perfumed memories of that lovely day , she says . So I go over to the Archies gallery and look at stuffed dogs and overweight teddy bears , while in my single days , I would have spent the same time watching 'Bhoothnath' at complex. After a couple of hours , I finally buy a pink and hairy dog which costs me more than the price of an island in the maldives. All the gifts a Basanti demands/requests/expects.Sigh.
3. Sniff . Sniff .
A fine lazy Sunday afternoon . I lie on the couch flipping between espn and hbo. The phone rings .Me : "hello ?"Basanti : "Sniff . Sniff."Me : "Abbe kaun hai ? agle saal bolega kya ?".Basanti : " Sniff . It's me , Basanti.Sniff.".Me : " Oh ok . You have a cold ?"Basanti : "I am....crying..sob.sob."Me : "Oh . It sounded just like a running nose though.And I saw Bhagam Bhag yesterday.The movie got so boring towards the end , even the chairs wanted to leave the hall."Basanti : " You will never understand...sniff...sniff..."The emotional intelligence and "understanding" a Basanti needs from me . Sigh.
4. "Mouth close karke kha !"
Me and Basanti are digging into a pizza at the Pizza Hut . While trying to balance a pizza slice on its journey from the tray to my mouth , a particularly big onion piece slides off its surface and lands on the table with a plop .Basanti :" Chee.Theek se kha na.Table manners !".I scoop up the onion piece from the table with my finger , put it in my mouth and say cheerfully :" Table manners gaye bihar , pizza khane de yaar"Basanti : " Sheesh. You are disgusting".While in my single days I could ravage a pizza splashing ketchup all over my shirt and chew as noisily as a tractor engine , now I need to take care I don't embarass the great manners ki dukaan , Basanti . The silly changes a Basanti demands from me . Sigh.
5. Abhi boss agaya kuch kaam karke dikhana hoga.
Sorry for the abrupt speed breaker , but chal wapas real world mein aa ja .This has nothing to do with Basanti. About Basanti , I have around 236 more points I can write against her . But still , saara zamaana , girlfriends ka deewana , so there must be something good about Basanti. Just that I don't see it
I am not a social scientist. I am not even an 'intellectual-awakened-liberated' youth specimen who holds an opinion on everything from the tattoo on Rakhi Sawant's shoulder to Mongolia's nuclear policy. I am not the kind of driven youth who would lie awake at nights , look at the stars and think of ways to double India's GDP.I am a guy with views as superficial as Tusar Kapooraha 's acting skills and my understanding of social trends runs as deep as the neck line of a nun's gown. But lately , I am beginning to notice the subtle extermination of a rather happy social species - The Single male .
When I was a kid , having a girlfriend meant two things about the guy :
1. The guy ranks somewhere between Matt Damon and George Clooney on the looks index.He walks by a women's college and the girls trample the professor in their hurry to run out and catch a glimpse .
2. The guy ranks somewhere between Mukesh Ambani and Richard Branson on the financial standing index. He frequently uses a hundred rupee note to wipe his nose and his bank needed to hire an extra floor to stack his cash deposits.
But now , not having a girlfriend says two things about the guy :
1. He is gay.
2. He is definitely gay.
I mean , I look around and see even convicts serving life sentences in Tihar going around in the jail premises with the female convicts from the ladies ward. Guys who aren't even close to respecting a woman have girlfriends . Even Mika has girlfriends - two of them. To be as short as Ayesha Takia's skirt , I guess most of the Indian guys in the age group of 16-30 have a girlfriend.('Tell-me-why' query - Can someone explain to me why having a girlfriend is termed "going around" ? Does it originate from the hindi films wherein Rishi Kapoor and Neetu Singh spent countless hours running in circles around trees , bushes and water fountains ?).
And this social development confuses me and poses an intriguing question - When everyone around me is "going around" , and I am single , and not gay , why do I feel a girlfriend is a pretty ( or not-so-pretty) friend who eats up personal independence and hikes up phone bills ? To make things more rational , let me imagine I have a girlfriend , whom I shall call Basanti as a mark of respect to the evergreen Hema Ji. Now let me see how 'going around' with Basanti can dent my life.
1. "Kis se baat kar raha tha ?"
Basanti calls me up and finds my number to be busy .And even though the pre recorded Airtel voice says "The number you are trying to call is currently busy . Please try after some time" , Basanti hears " The guy you are trying to call up is highly cheap . He is talking to Shruti right now and is expressing is undying love to her . He may claim he was talking to his mother. Dont trust him . "Soon after I disconnect the call to ma , Basanti calls me up and before I can say a hello , yells a "Go to Hell ! And take Shruti along with you !" shattering my eardrum. The insecurity of Basanti . Sigh.
2." Wo kutta pack kar deejiye"
So it is second anniversary of the day me and Basanti first had Pav Bhaji together and she expects a gift . It's not just a gift , but a sweet 'nishani' which carries the perfumed memories of that lovely day , she says . So I go over to the Archies gallery and look at stuffed dogs and overweight teddy bears , while in my single days , I would have spent the same time watching 'Bhoothnath' at complex. After a couple of hours , I finally buy a pink and hairy dog which costs me more than the price of an island in the maldives. All the gifts a Basanti demands/requests/expects.Sigh.
3. Sniff . Sniff .
A fine lazy Sunday afternoon . I lie on the couch flipping between espn and hbo. The phone rings .Me : "hello ?"Basanti : "Sniff . Sniff."Me : "Abbe kaun hai ? agle saal bolega kya ?".Basanti : " Sniff . It's me , Basanti.Sniff.".Me : " Oh ok . You have a cold ?"Basanti : "I am....crying..sob.sob."Me : "Oh . It sounded just like a running nose though.And I saw Bhagam Bhag yesterday.The movie got so boring towards the end , even the chairs wanted to leave the hall."Basanti : " You will never understand...sniff...sniff..."The emotional intelligence and "understanding" a Basanti needs from me . Sigh.
4. "Mouth close karke kha !"
Me and Basanti are digging into a pizza at the Pizza Hut . While trying to balance a pizza slice on its journey from the tray to my mouth , a particularly big onion piece slides off its surface and lands on the table with a plop .Basanti :" Chee.Theek se kha na.Table manners !".I scoop up the onion piece from the table with my finger , put it in my mouth and say cheerfully :" Table manners gaye bihar , pizza khane de yaar"Basanti : " Sheesh. You are disgusting".While in my single days I could ravage a pizza splashing ketchup all over my shirt and chew as noisily as a tractor engine , now I need to take care I don't embarass the great manners ki dukaan , Basanti . The silly changes a Basanti demands from me . Sigh.
5. Abhi boss agaya kuch kaam karke dikhana hoga.
Sorry for the abrupt speed breaker , but chal wapas real world mein aa ja .This has nothing to do with Basanti. About Basanti , I have around 236 more points I can write against her . But still , saara zamaana , girlfriends ka deewana , so there must be something good about Basanti. Just that I don't see it
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
I rise like a phoenix...or is it the unicorn ?
It’s been some time since I typed on this blog . 5% of my friends who still don’t know me well enough to hate me were concerned and thinking “Anirudh ko kya hua ? Cancer ? AIDS ? Limfusircoma of the intestine ?” , while the rest 95% were running to their neighbours with laddoos and shouting “It’s over ! He is gone !”. But like a phoenix , I rise again ….phoenix hee hota hai na ... the creature that comes back again and again …or is it the unicorn…or porcupine maybe….pata nahi yaar …kitne saare jaanwar hai…..
Things over the last two months have been as fast as a Shoaib Akhtar riding a sports bike . I have traveled between cities , gain some weight , been through some personally challenging times , did things which altered my opinion about myself ( I am more handsome than I thought I am ) , and even downloaded Bappi Lahiri songs during a particularly intense moment of emotion . And I need to talk about all that as much as a scared girl needs a nightgown clad Shakti ‘auuu’ kapoor , so I won’t . But still , I need to let out something .
I look to be handling life pretty ok . I am 26 , earning decently ( And without doing anything which would upset mom or the cops ) , have a doting family , and I can cook maggi . I have made my mistakes , more so in personal life , but then , brooding over things is something I am not very capable of . But if I look beneath the surface , behind all this , I am still walking on a road with no idea of my destination . Not that it troubles me too much . Maybe there is no destination at all , maybe the destination is not important . Maybe it’s only about living each day as you want to live it . But still , it feels like I am still searching for something . I am told this is not the case. But I can’t deny this feeling . But then , I live this life .I live whatever it gives me.
So now I log off .To all those who have actually been concerned, do not worry. And those 95% who celebrated my going away , you go to your neighbours and get your laddoos back .
It’s been some time since I typed on this blog . 5% of my friends who still don’t know me well enough to hate me were concerned and thinking “Anirudh ko kya hua ? Cancer ? AIDS ? Limfusircoma of the intestine ?” , while the rest 95% were running to their neighbours with laddoos and shouting “It’s over ! He is gone !”. But like a phoenix , I rise again ….phoenix hee hota hai na ... the creature that comes back again and again …or is it the unicorn…or porcupine maybe….pata nahi yaar …kitne saare jaanwar hai…..
Things over the last two months have been as fast as a Shoaib Akhtar riding a sports bike . I have traveled between cities , gain some weight , been through some personally challenging times , did things which altered my opinion about myself ( I am more handsome than I thought I am ) , and even downloaded Bappi Lahiri songs during a particularly intense moment of emotion . And I need to talk about all that as much as a scared girl needs a nightgown clad Shakti ‘auuu’ kapoor , so I won’t . But still , I need to let out something .
I look to be handling life pretty ok . I am 26 , earning decently ( And without doing anything which would upset mom or the cops ) , have a doting family , and I can cook maggi . I have made my mistakes , more so in personal life , but then , brooding over things is something I am not very capable of . But if I look beneath the surface , behind all this , I am still walking on a road with no idea of my destination . Not that it troubles me too much . Maybe there is no destination at all , maybe the destination is not important . Maybe it’s only about living each day as you want to live it . But still , it feels like I am still searching for something . I am told this is not the case. But I can’t deny this feeling . But then , I live this life .I live whatever it gives me.
So now I log off .To all those who have actually been concerned, do not worry. And those 95% who celebrated my going away , you go to your neighbours and get your laddoos back .
Monday, February 4, 2008
Valentine Massacre
I have got a little table calendar on my table. It's a typical ‘25-year-old-single-male’ calendar with pictures of young pretty international models. As I was flitting across its pages one evening, my eyes came to a stop on February. I suddenly realised - ‘Oh no, it’s back’..
I wish Valentine’s day was a Hailey’s comet that comes once in 76 years or something. Being 25 and no girlfriend to take around, I felt I had to be some Archies gallery franchisee or St Valentine himself to love this day.
Surprised to read such harsh words? I wasn’t always a ‘mohabbat ka dushman’. Like any fat Indian boy exposed to a healthy diet of ‘pyaar-ishq-mohabbat’ brand of Bollywood, I dreamt of all the sweet things that would happen on V day.
The ‘beautiful eyes-fair-enchanting' girl in my school would accept my proposal on this magical Valentine’s day. Nope. Fast Forward: The ‘kind of pretty eyes – dusky – decent-girl’ in my college would surely say "Yes" this Valentine’s day. Nope. Fast Forward: Maybe the ‘normal eyes – dark – normal girl’ in my engineering college would be my valentine this frigging Valentine’s day. You must've guessed what happened by now seeing my track record. After a careful observation I have come to the conclusion that a girl would rather go out with a fully armed Osama Bin Laden than me. So, I no longer dream about V day.
On the dreaded day, I avoid any living thing... including the dogs outside my housel as they have that ‘Dude-where-is-your-girl?’ look in their doggie eyes as they run around with their bitches. I wake up late, and take leave from my boss with my bimar bahanas. My movements outside the room are as restricted as that of the cupboard in my room.
To make sure I stay strong and don’t chew on rat poison in depression, the music for that day is completely unromantic with no mention of any females, humans or otherwise. From personal experience, I can say that ‘khoon kharaaba’ loud tracks dealing with new york gang fights, guns and bullets make for some excellent V day music for me. For people who can’t pretend to understand the lyrics of an ‘angrezi’ song as I do, try Baba Sehgal's ‘Orange Kurta Peela Pajama’. Personally, after listening to this song, I feel lucky even to be alive.
The TV channels need to be selected with utmost care. I avoid any channel that beams visuals of couples kissing, holding hands, chuckling, and then kissing again. This may trigger unpleasant emotional turmoil, resulting in TV damage at my hands. Sports channels are the safest bet. Again, ladies tennis is avoided. And if nothing else works, there is the internet. I google for Shiv Sena who tell me how this day is destroying the Indian culture. This, with reassuring details of how they plan to pull apart silly lovers coochie cooing in parks and malls and complain to their parents. Sometimes These guys can be real angels for my morale.
I know I sound like one of them, and you think I have a dozen trishuls stacked under my bed. But the ruthless, cold and insensitive girls have converted me from a dreamy-starry eyed-V day anticipating boy into a cynical-heartless-I love Shiv Sena guy. You have fun on this V day. I am ready for cricket on the telly. :((
I have got a little table calendar on my table. It's a typical ‘25-year-old-single-male’ calendar with pictures of young pretty international models. As I was flitting across its pages one evening, my eyes came to a stop on February. I suddenly realised - ‘Oh no, it’s back’..
I wish Valentine’s day was a Hailey’s comet that comes once in 76 years or something. Being 25 and no girlfriend to take around, I felt I had to be some Archies gallery franchisee or St Valentine himself to love this day.
Surprised to read such harsh words? I wasn’t always a ‘mohabbat ka dushman’. Like any fat Indian boy exposed to a healthy diet of ‘pyaar-ishq-mohabbat’ brand of Bollywood, I dreamt of all the sweet things that would happen on V day.
The ‘beautiful eyes-fair-enchanting' girl in my school would accept my proposal on this magical Valentine’s day. Nope. Fast Forward: The ‘kind of pretty eyes – dusky – decent-girl’ in my college would surely say "Yes" this Valentine’s day. Nope. Fast Forward: Maybe the ‘normal eyes – dark – normal girl’ in my engineering college would be my valentine this frigging Valentine’s day. You must've guessed what happened by now seeing my track record. After a careful observation I have come to the conclusion that a girl would rather go out with a fully armed Osama Bin Laden than me. So, I no longer dream about V day.
On the dreaded day, I avoid any living thing... including the dogs outside my housel as they have that ‘Dude-where-is-your-girl?’ look in their doggie eyes as they run around with their bitches. I wake up late, and take leave from my boss with my bimar bahanas. My movements outside the room are as restricted as that of the cupboard in my room.
To make sure I stay strong and don’t chew on rat poison in depression, the music for that day is completely unromantic with no mention of any females, humans or otherwise. From personal experience, I can say that ‘khoon kharaaba’ loud tracks dealing with new york gang fights, guns and bullets make for some excellent V day music for me. For people who can’t pretend to understand the lyrics of an ‘angrezi’ song as I do, try Baba Sehgal's ‘Orange Kurta Peela Pajama’. Personally, after listening to this song, I feel lucky even to be alive.
The TV channels need to be selected with utmost care. I avoid any channel that beams visuals of couples kissing, holding hands, chuckling, and then kissing again. This may trigger unpleasant emotional turmoil, resulting in TV damage at my hands. Sports channels are the safest bet. Again, ladies tennis is avoided. And if nothing else works, there is the internet. I google for Shiv Sena who tell me how this day is destroying the Indian culture. This, with reassuring details of how they plan to pull apart silly lovers coochie cooing in parks and malls and complain to their parents. Sometimes These guys can be real angels for my morale.
I know I sound like one of them, and you think I have a dozen trishuls stacked under my bed. But the ruthless, cold and insensitive girls have converted me from a dreamy-starry eyed-V day anticipating boy into a cynical-heartless-I love Shiv Sena guy. You have fun on this V day. I am ready for cricket on the telly. :((
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
No more thunder storms
I saw the face full of innocence.
I saw the calm blue eyes.
I saw the porcelain skin.
I saw the mesmerizing beauty.
I saw her…………………………….
Time stopped around me. I was speechless. I felt the absence of gravity. I was numb. I felt the calmness. There were no feelings of my self existence. I felt my soul sucked into her eyes. I thought I will faint.
And she smiled …………………… knowingly.
I felt the cruelty. She had pity & waved her eyes else where.
She spared my life………………….
After wards I never dared to look into those eyes.
Yesterday she called me & said she was engaged.
I congratulated her.
I told my self “ Your life has been spared”.
And I felt lost…………………….
I saw the face full of innocence.
I saw the calm blue eyes.
I saw the porcelain skin.
I saw the mesmerizing beauty.
I saw her…………………………….
Time stopped around me. I was speechless. I felt the absence of gravity. I was numb. I felt the calmness. There were no feelings of my self existence. I felt my soul sucked into her eyes. I thought I will faint.
And she smiled …………………… knowingly.
I felt the cruelty. She had pity & waved her eyes else where.
She spared my life………………….
After wards I never dared to look into those eyes.
Yesterday she called me & said she was engaged.
I congratulated her.
I told my self “ Your life has been spared”.
And I felt lost…………………….
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Stolen mousepads and khoon paseene ki roti
Yesterday when I reached office , a brown envelope was placed on my desk. Ab aajkal tho it is the zamana of e-mail , and passing around paper letters qualifies you for a place in the stone age , so I was like "Yaar yeh kya Akbar ke zamane ka item rakha hain". Scared that they might have found out I have been stealing mousepads from the office and hence were firing me while asking for the mousapads back , I tore open the envelope along an edge and pulled out a neatly folded letter. It said that I had completed three years in the Libya unit and congratulated me for that.
Mene socha “abbe teen saal hee tho complete kiya hai , congratulate tho aise kar rahe hain jaise main miss world bangaya hun.”
But anyway , the letter sure made me go like - "Uee ma , teen saal ho gaya mujhe office mein free ki coffee down karte hue?." It sure doesnt feel like three year since I walked out of the gates of KITS (My College ,General knowledge bahat kam he tera) as a confused guy and walked into the corporate world to confuse everybody in there. But three years it has been , so all you people out there , raise a toast . Waise ab toast kahan se laoge , so raise the free ki coffee.
I am going to give my pyara N95 to my father when I will be there with them next week. My father is the kind of guy who would keep a cellphone till its keypad falls off , its screen disintegrates and the Archeological society of India takes it away and places it next to the pottery found in Mohanjodaro , so I just decided to give my cellphone to him . I think the model looks pretty good , ek dam computer jesa lagega haath mein .
When my dad will see it , I am expecting him to turn to my mom and say
"Dekho humara beta kitna mature ho gaya he , ab iss kee shaadi kar deni chahiye." , but may be he will say something which will be on the lines of "Humare bete ko money spend karne ki sense nahi he , iss kee shaadi keliye ab bahat deeer he." :(
Now back to the point that I completed three long years in this company, Abhi bhi mujhe yaad he wo din, jis din masumiyat se bhara hua bachpana Anirudh ka gala ghot diya gaya tha & kandhe par hal daal diya gayatha, kaano me mother india ke gaane lagaa ke khet jutwaa gayethe .Wo lunch me roomaal me roti baandh
ke lejana aur kisi tree ke neeche baith ke khoon paseene ki roti
khana.buhuhu!!
Now it seems like yesterday, Pata nehi life mein sayad age jate hue time ka farak hi maloom nehi padta hey. Still it seems like Lifes Unfullfilled, Lost and confused. God knows what I want and what I will be or what is the future,
But I will thank GOD for whatever i have, cause I got them all that may be I never dreamed of. (Ok OK dream mein Madhhori Dixit aur pamela anderson the, Wo to God nehi dete)
Chill yaar, Tu bhi apna future ko leke paresan hona band kaar.
Let's face what ever life brings.
Chal baaki ki kahaaniyaa baad me sunaaunga, Ajj ka quota poora ho gaya.
Anirudh
Yesterday when I reached office , a brown envelope was placed on my desk. Ab aajkal tho it is the zamana of e-mail , and passing around paper letters qualifies you for a place in the stone age , so I was like "Yaar yeh kya Akbar ke zamane ka item rakha hain". Scared that they might have found out I have been stealing mousepads from the office and hence were firing me while asking for the mousapads back , I tore open the envelope along an edge and pulled out a neatly folded letter. It said that I had completed three years in the Libya unit and congratulated me for that.
Mene socha “abbe teen saal hee tho complete kiya hai , congratulate tho aise kar rahe hain jaise main miss world bangaya hun.”
But anyway , the letter sure made me go like - "Uee ma , teen saal ho gaya mujhe office mein free ki coffee down karte hue?." It sure doesnt feel like three year since I walked out of the gates of KITS (My College ,General knowledge bahat kam he tera) as a confused guy and walked into the corporate world to confuse everybody in there. But three years it has been , so all you people out there , raise a toast . Waise ab toast kahan se laoge , so raise the free ki coffee.
I am going to give my pyara N95 to my father when I will be there with them next week. My father is the kind of guy who would keep a cellphone till its keypad falls off , its screen disintegrates and the Archeological society of India takes it away and places it next to the pottery found in Mohanjodaro , so I just decided to give my cellphone to him . I think the model looks pretty good , ek dam computer jesa lagega haath mein .
When my dad will see it , I am expecting him to turn to my mom and say
"Dekho humara beta kitna mature ho gaya he , ab iss kee shaadi kar deni chahiye." , but may be he will say something which will be on the lines of "Humare bete ko money spend karne ki sense nahi he , iss kee shaadi keliye ab bahat deeer he." :(
Now back to the point that I completed three long years in this company, Abhi bhi mujhe yaad he wo din, jis din masumiyat se bhara hua bachpana Anirudh ka gala ghot diya gaya tha & kandhe par hal daal diya gayatha, kaano me mother india ke gaane lagaa ke khet jutwaa gayethe .Wo lunch me roomaal me roti baandh
ke lejana aur kisi tree ke neeche baith ke khoon paseene ki roti
khana.buhuhu!!
Now it seems like yesterday, Pata nehi life mein sayad age jate hue time ka farak hi maloom nehi padta hey. Still it seems like Lifes Unfullfilled, Lost and confused. God knows what I want and what I will be or what is the future,
But I will thank GOD for whatever i have, cause I got them all that may be I never dreamed of. (Ok OK dream mein Madhhori Dixit aur pamela anderson the, Wo to God nehi dete)
Chill yaar, Tu bhi apna future ko leke paresan hona band kaar.
Let's face what ever life brings.
Chal baaki ki kahaaniyaa baad me sunaaunga, Ajj ka quota poora ho gaya.
Anirudh
Friday, January 25, 2008
Life is not a movie
Trusting the cumulative knowledge of all movies I had watched till date showing home coming scenes , until yesterday I was dreaming my dad would hug me till my ribs turned to dust and mom would come up with a pooja ki thali or something on meeting me at the airport . But my dreams shattered when Yesterday I got a call from my sis informing me that dad will be busy in his office so he can’t come to pick me up and didi herself going to Delhi and she instructed me not to bother mom.
So today I want to sue every single person who has ever been involved with the movie shooting of homecoming scenes at airports . The charge would be a 'inciting high expectations from family reunion scenes at airports' or something equally sickening.
And may be from today my dreams wd be like this …………
I landed at the airport , picked up my bags from the belt , pulled out my phone and called dad , all ready for the tears and hugs to unleash with all its fury.
Dad : Hello ?
Me : I have landed ! ( I know that sounded like I am the Eagle , but that's what I said )
Dad : Oh ok .
Me : Where are you ?
Dad : (Possibility 1 ) I can’t come I have my works to be completed at the office , so hire a autorikshwa and come straight to house, I will see u in the evening.
Dad : ( Possibility 2) There is a huge traffic jam here . Just sit around the airport and do something . Another half an hour atleast. I understand this . Traffic jams happen . But then Yash chopra and his ruthless colleagues should be realistic enough to include traffic jams or the possibility one in movies too . In a movie , when shahrukh khan returns home after completing his masters from duke university , there should not be the smiling family with perfectly formed teeth waiting for him as soon as hops down from the plane . Instead , he should hop down from the plane , look around , say a 'kkkkk..kahan hai sab?" to himself , and then receive an sms which goes like "Traffic Jam.Another forty minutes.Wait near the coffee machine at the arrival lounge. And don't drink pepsi." That would help keep down real life expectations and make the world and the airports a better place for sons coming home.
Hope after reaching they will accept my gifts with out any complain and fight. The 'ghar ka chirag' coming home for the first time since getting the confirmation and a decent salary, had to get something for the family unless he wanted to be given up for adoption , so I got a cellphone for dad , a mp4 player for sister and a watch for ma .
Anyway , I will close down now . I have to pack my bags for my trip. To chalta hoon bhai . And the next time you expect a waiting family at the airport , just remember , life is not a movie . These movie people sell traffic free dreams . Sue kar dooonga ek ek ko .
Trusting the cumulative knowledge of all movies I had watched till date showing home coming scenes , until yesterday I was dreaming my dad would hug me till my ribs turned to dust and mom would come up with a pooja ki thali or something on meeting me at the airport . But my dreams shattered when Yesterday I got a call from my sis informing me that dad will be busy in his office so he can’t come to pick me up and didi herself going to Delhi and she instructed me not to bother mom.
So today I want to sue every single person who has ever been involved with the movie shooting of homecoming scenes at airports . The charge would be a 'inciting high expectations from family reunion scenes at airports' or something equally sickening.
And may be from today my dreams wd be like this …………
I landed at the airport , picked up my bags from the belt , pulled out my phone and called dad , all ready for the tears and hugs to unleash with all its fury.
Dad : Hello ?
Me : I have landed ! ( I know that sounded like I am the Eagle , but that's what I said )
Dad : Oh ok .
Me : Where are you ?
Dad : (Possibility 1 ) I can’t come I have my works to be completed at the office , so hire a autorikshwa and come straight to house, I will see u in the evening.
Dad : ( Possibility 2) There is a huge traffic jam here . Just sit around the airport and do something . Another half an hour atleast. I understand this . Traffic jams happen . But then Yash chopra and his ruthless colleagues should be realistic enough to include traffic jams or the possibility one in movies too . In a movie , when shahrukh khan returns home after completing his masters from duke university , there should not be the smiling family with perfectly formed teeth waiting for him as soon as hops down from the plane . Instead , he should hop down from the plane , look around , say a 'kkkkk..kahan hai sab?" to himself , and then receive an sms which goes like "Traffic Jam.Another forty minutes.Wait near the coffee machine at the arrival lounge. And don't drink pepsi." That would help keep down real life expectations and make the world and the airports a better place for sons coming home.
Hope after reaching they will accept my gifts with out any complain and fight. The 'ghar ka chirag' coming home for the first time since getting the confirmation and a decent salary, had to get something for the family unless he wanted to be given up for adoption , so I got a cellphone for dad , a mp4 player for sister and a watch for ma .
Anyway , I will close down now . I have to pack my bags for my trip. To chalta hoon bhai . And the next time you expect a waiting family at the airport , just remember , life is not a movie . These movie people sell traffic free dreams . Sue kar dooonga ek ek ko .
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Lungi clad solitude
Abhi kuch der pehle , as I was stealing some songs on net , one of my old friend called me. Now , when I say old , it does not mean that he was born before the steam engine was invented , but I had not talked to him over the last atleast two years. So overcome by jazbaat and emotions , we talked about old school days , the teachers , the lady teachers , the kashmir mudda , undergarment industry of Japaaan and other such heart warming issues ( A lot of issues and topics have been beeped out . Kayi dost jinko mein ye blog padhte hein ajj kal bohu betiyoon ka act nibha rahe hein na :).
We talked for about forty minutes . I could have talked more but then his dad is not yet into smuggling charas/brown sugar/garam masala and he very clearly said "Chal saale.Ab fone rakhne de.Isse jyada baat kari tho pappa meri khaal utaar ke dubai mein bech denge." Not very pleased with the thought of my friend's skin being sold in some flea market in Dubai with a stallwaala yelling "Indian khaal Indian Khaal , sirf teen rupye per square metre , le jao le jao", I agreed .
But long after I kept down the phone , one question which he casually posed to me during the conversation kept goonjing in my ears -
" Yaar Anirudh , tera jaisa banda akela reh kaise sakta hain ? Tujhe dekh kar tho lagta hai jaise tune paida hote hee nurse se gappe maarna shuru kar dia tha..tu akela rehta kaise hai Libya mein ?"
Now , the guy does have a point . Aaj main "Mika" ke baalon ki kasam khaake admit karta hoon that it has not been an easy time for me in Libya over the last two years & 9 months ( Ek tho yeh 9 months bada hee khatarnaak time frame hota hain , sunte hee mind mein bacche ke rone ki awaaz aane lagtee hain ). The boy who landed in Libya on the 27th of October 2004 was possesed of nothing more than seven minutes of cumulative experince in the kitchen , had ironed a total of three shirts , seven chaddis and one handkerchief in the 22 years 3 months of his life , had no sense of a biological clock and did not know how a malyali blackish man in a lungi looks like.
And today , on the kaali amaavas ki raat of 23rd jauary 2008 , I can proudly smirk and claim to be a man who can prepare maggi , sandwiches , neembu paani and an occasional thick brown liquid which I call coffee . Mujhe pata hain aap mein se kuch kaafi shakki mizaaz ke hain , unke liye maggi ki foto bhee chipka raha hoon nest post mein .bilaady disbelievers.And I have ironed enough baniyans , shirts ,trousers , chaddis and other chote chote kapde to get a wildcard entry into the All India Dhobi Association . And now I know how a dark wiry malayali man looks wearing a lungi which is threateningly high and revealing . And trust me , that is one sight you don't want to know about . (90% of the engineers and managers of our company are from KERLA, Note that rest are either from AP or Tamilnadu)
I have been staying in all alone in an ajnabee shehar ( As all these malus talk only in malayalam) , in a land where I am thousands of miles away from a single soul who actually cares , in a place where I am no more than a east indian novelty who speaks gibberish . And if all this has taught me one thing , it is this - Do not take the 'saath' of your family for granted . Yeh jo aapke ma , daddy , bhai , behan hai na , inn logo ka saath ek saaye ki tarah hota hain , jiska ehsaas tabhi hota hai jab aap dhoop mein nikalte hain .For many of you , it would be so normal to hear your mother calling for you with a "Aao beta , khaana kha lo" . It would be so normal to watch a cricket game on the telly with your dad sitting besides you . It would be so normal to find your sister eating the last bar of chocolate in the fridge and attack her with a "drop that bar and put your hands in the air you bhooki !!! wo main khaaunga !!!".
But all this seems as precious as RBI locker ka password once you move away from home. Beta door yahan lungiyon aur sambar ke desh mein (Malus rule this gulf part of world) jab office se wapas ek 'kabristaan sa sunsaan' kamre mein aaoge , when no one will be around to care if you are seven minutes away from dying a maut due to starvation , when you have to watch every cricket game alone and when Dhoni hits a six , even do the little bhangra alone , then you realise what a family means .So while you are with your family , relish every moment , walk into the kitchen and try to pick up a hot aloo ka pakoda while your mommy scolds "Uff ! Thanda tho hone de ! Yeh ladka bhee na bass !" . Watch every match with your dad and argue if sachin should have left that ball outside off stump alone . Fight with your sister over every chocolate she eats . Because kya pata , kal ho na ho .( Uee ma , karan johar mujhe sue karne aa raha he , bachao ).
But some good things have also popped out of this tanhayi tanhayi ki mp3 which has been playing in my life over the last 2years & nine months . Umm..like I have read more books than I ever had . But now I have read books which involve more than parental murders and revengeful kids . Also , I have learnt to be comfortable with myself . I can spend 120 years in a dark dungeon locked up all alone now , although the company of Sushmita Sen would not be a problem . And I have learnt to eat stuff which is called "Mutter Paneer" but looks more like Fried Ostrich balls ( Eyeballs , you insensitive animal hater ) floating in the blood of Jackie Shroff . ( You dont believe me ? Theek hai , iss mutter paneer ki bhi foto chipkaaunga agle mail mein ).
Anyway , chalo mere gol matol desh wasiyon , main ab apna pallu tuck in karke wapas stealing skills piractice karleta hun.
Anirudh
Abhi kuch der pehle , as I was stealing some songs on net , one of my old friend called me. Now , when I say old , it does not mean that he was born before the steam engine was invented , but I had not talked to him over the last atleast two years. So overcome by jazbaat and emotions , we talked about old school days , the teachers , the lady teachers , the kashmir mudda , undergarment industry of Japaaan and other such heart warming issues ( A lot of issues and topics have been beeped out . Kayi dost jinko mein ye blog padhte hein ajj kal bohu betiyoon ka act nibha rahe hein na :).
We talked for about forty minutes . I could have talked more but then his dad is not yet into smuggling charas/brown sugar/garam masala and he very clearly said "Chal saale.Ab fone rakhne de.Isse jyada baat kari tho pappa meri khaal utaar ke dubai mein bech denge." Not very pleased with the thought of my friend's skin being sold in some flea market in Dubai with a stallwaala yelling "Indian khaal Indian Khaal , sirf teen rupye per square metre , le jao le jao", I agreed .
But long after I kept down the phone , one question which he casually posed to me during the conversation kept goonjing in my ears -
" Yaar Anirudh , tera jaisa banda akela reh kaise sakta hain ? Tujhe dekh kar tho lagta hai jaise tune paida hote hee nurse se gappe maarna shuru kar dia tha..tu akela rehta kaise hai Libya mein ?"
Now , the guy does have a point . Aaj main "Mika" ke baalon ki kasam khaake admit karta hoon that it has not been an easy time for me in Libya over the last two years & 9 months ( Ek tho yeh 9 months bada hee khatarnaak time frame hota hain , sunte hee mind mein bacche ke rone ki awaaz aane lagtee hain ). The boy who landed in Libya on the 27th of October 2004 was possesed of nothing more than seven minutes of cumulative experince in the kitchen , had ironed a total of three shirts , seven chaddis and one handkerchief in the 22 years 3 months of his life , had no sense of a biological clock and did not know how a malyali blackish man in a lungi looks like.
And today , on the kaali amaavas ki raat of 23rd jauary 2008 , I can proudly smirk and claim to be a man who can prepare maggi , sandwiches , neembu paani and an occasional thick brown liquid which I call coffee . Mujhe pata hain aap mein se kuch kaafi shakki mizaaz ke hain , unke liye maggi ki foto bhee chipka raha hoon nest post mein .bilaady disbelievers.And I have ironed enough baniyans , shirts ,trousers , chaddis and other chote chote kapde to get a wildcard entry into the All India Dhobi Association . And now I know how a dark wiry malayali man looks wearing a lungi which is threateningly high and revealing . And trust me , that is one sight you don't want to know about . (90% of the engineers and managers of our company are from KERLA, Note that rest are either from AP or Tamilnadu)
I have been staying in all alone in an ajnabee shehar ( As all these malus talk only in malayalam) , in a land where I am thousands of miles away from a single soul who actually cares , in a place where I am no more than a east indian novelty who speaks gibberish . And if all this has taught me one thing , it is this - Do not take the 'saath' of your family for granted . Yeh jo aapke ma , daddy , bhai , behan hai na , inn logo ka saath ek saaye ki tarah hota hain , jiska ehsaas tabhi hota hai jab aap dhoop mein nikalte hain .For many of you , it would be so normal to hear your mother calling for you with a "Aao beta , khaana kha lo" . It would be so normal to watch a cricket game on the telly with your dad sitting besides you . It would be so normal to find your sister eating the last bar of chocolate in the fridge and attack her with a "drop that bar and put your hands in the air you bhooki !!! wo main khaaunga !!!".
But all this seems as precious as RBI locker ka password once you move away from home. Beta door yahan lungiyon aur sambar ke desh mein (Malus rule this gulf part of world) jab office se wapas ek 'kabristaan sa sunsaan' kamre mein aaoge , when no one will be around to care if you are seven minutes away from dying a maut due to starvation , when you have to watch every cricket game alone and when Dhoni hits a six , even do the little bhangra alone , then you realise what a family means .So while you are with your family , relish every moment , walk into the kitchen and try to pick up a hot aloo ka pakoda while your mommy scolds "Uff ! Thanda tho hone de ! Yeh ladka bhee na bass !" . Watch every match with your dad and argue if sachin should have left that ball outside off stump alone . Fight with your sister over every chocolate she eats . Because kya pata , kal ho na ho .( Uee ma , karan johar mujhe sue karne aa raha he , bachao ).
But some good things have also popped out of this tanhayi tanhayi ki mp3 which has been playing in my life over the last 2years & nine months . Umm..like I have read more books than I ever had . But now I have read books which involve more than parental murders and revengeful kids . Also , I have learnt to be comfortable with myself . I can spend 120 years in a dark dungeon locked up all alone now , although the company of Sushmita Sen would not be a problem . And I have learnt to eat stuff which is called "Mutter Paneer" but looks more like Fried Ostrich balls ( Eyeballs , you insensitive animal hater ) floating in the blood of Jackie Shroff . ( You dont believe me ? Theek hai , iss mutter paneer ki bhi foto chipkaaunga agle mail mein ).
Anyway , chalo mere gol matol desh wasiyon , main ab apna pallu tuck in karke wapas stealing skills piractice karleta hun.
Anirudh
Friday, January 18, 2008
The Prodigal Son is coming back to home.
Another twelve days and I will be home with my loving parents and sis. I never stayed for such a long time away from my parents until I joined my job in Libya. My mother used to hand feed me for almost 22 years, even she fed me when I was on my leave last year. This is her love for me. I always wonder why she loves me so much more than she loves my elder brother and sis. May be because I am the youngest in our family and the weakest & bimar. I wonder because I have never been a good son all my life jo maa pitajika naam roshan kare. You can say I am the black sheep of our family. My siblings are smarter than me, they almost fulfilled my parents dreams. I am the one who shattered their dreams.
When I was a kid I used to nag all my younger cousins and so all our relatives hate me & so my parents also feel ashamed of me. Then I grew older and started giving excuses for my inabilities. My mother never believed then nor she believes them now. When it comes to exam score cards, they were always somewhere near 60%. (You see I am an average student) In my class sixth I flunked in my drawing exam. My 7th class class exam was a narrow escape. In my board exam thanks to the inspiration from the smiling beauties in my tuition class I scored my life’s best 81%. Then I joined college with lack of direction and full of uncertainties filled in me and the end result again a narrow escape. By God’s blessings and due to my besaram self I did not attempted khudkhusi.
Somehow they made me believe that I can be an engineer. So I joined a coaching center and prepared my self for the joint entrance examination. Then I thought somehow I will achieve something and repay my parents 10 times of the money what they spent on me and make them think atleast the money they spent was not at all a waste. But nothing happened as I planned rather my beliefs were strengthened that day dreams never comes true. Anyway I gave the same excuse to my self that the lack of those smiling inspirations in life is the culprit.
By God’s grace I got into one of those mushrooming private engineering colleges in civil branch. And there I found the above said inspiration and scored a mu dikhaneka layak percentage and majduri bhi lag gayi ek company mein. Those inspirations never came into life nor did they thought me as their inspiration, but there is always a hope and that hope became inspiration for me and mein apna kharacha pani jugad karneka layak bangaya. Thanks to all of them. My dream for repaying my parents in 10 folds sapne mein hi reh gaya. Now it seems far far away.
But at the end I am thankful to my parents for keeping their patience to bear all my misdoings and spending the money for last 22 years for which I am here today. Most of all for the unconditional love I found from them that I never deserved.
Now the prodigal son is coming back to home. Hope the same love and patience will be there for me.
Anirudh
Another twelve days and I will be home with my loving parents and sis. I never stayed for such a long time away from my parents until I joined my job in Libya. My mother used to hand feed me for almost 22 years, even she fed me when I was on my leave last year. This is her love for me. I always wonder why she loves me so much more than she loves my elder brother and sis. May be because I am the youngest in our family and the weakest & bimar. I wonder because I have never been a good son all my life jo maa pitajika naam roshan kare. You can say I am the black sheep of our family. My siblings are smarter than me, they almost fulfilled my parents dreams. I am the one who shattered their dreams.
When I was a kid I used to nag all my younger cousins and so all our relatives hate me & so my parents also feel ashamed of me. Then I grew older and started giving excuses for my inabilities. My mother never believed then nor she believes them now. When it comes to exam score cards, they were always somewhere near 60%. (You see I am an average student) In my class sixth I flunked in my drawing exam. My 7th class class exam was a narrow escape. In my board exam thanks to the inspiration from the smiling beauties in my tuition class I scored my life’s best 81%. Then I joined college with lack of direction and full of uncertainties filled in me and the end result again a narrow escape. By God’s blessings and due to my besaram self I did not attempted khudkhusi.
Somehow they made me believe that I can be an engineer. So I joined a coaching center and prepared my self for the joint entrance examination. Then I thought somehow I will achieve something and repay my parents 10 times of the money what they spent on me and make them think atleast the money they spent was not at all a waste. But nothing happened as I planned rather my beliefs were strengthened that day dreams never comes true. Anyway I gave the same excuse to my self that the lack of those smiling inspirations in life is the culprit.
By God’s grace I got into one of those mushrooming private engineering colleges in civil branch. And there I found the above said inspiration and scored a mu dikhaneka layak percentage and majduri bhi lag gayi ek company mein. Those inspirations never came into life nor did they thought me as their inspiration, but there is always a hope and that hope became inspiration for me and mein apna kharacha pani jugad karneka layak bangaya. Thanks to all of them. My dream for repaying my parents in 10 folds sapne mein hi reh gaya. Now it seems far far away.
But at the end I am thankful to my parents for keeping their patience to bear all my misdoings and spending the money for last 22 years for which I am here today. Most of all for the unconditional love I found from them that I never deserved.
Now the prodigal son is coming back to home. Hope the same love and patience will be there for me.
Anirudh
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