Soul of The Violin

Sweat from playing violin, NEVER STINKS!

2012-01-23T08:47:00.001-08:00

t is so easy to be imaginative and curious. Counting on those virtues, I have always wondered, how would it be, had my brain sustained the thought of how I lived inside my mother’s womb. Oh yeh! The brain with its acquired sense might reply, it is easy, you were tiny, a creature of impeccable features, secured and just waited to come out to this despair filled vanity called WORLDLY life. But I don’t remember a tiny peck. I can only imagine what I would have been or my vision would have been, when I was inside the secluded and secured place, for those tiny moments when my mother carried me around.
Until I close my eyes amidst the ambience filled with a mellowed down yellow lamp, a soothing tonal quality of the electronic tempura and the womb, to take me into her custody, THE VIOLIN. I would be insane to compare anything to equal mother´s warmth, but, practicing my violin for 3 hours, with eyes closed, I can safely dire over the risk, of saying, any art, when practiced with perseverance, takes you closer to that insipid feeling of being helpless, at the same time being reckless, just like how you would have been “helpless and claustrophobic“ inside the womb, to kick your mother hard enough at the same time being “reckless“ to kick to spoil the party.
Well it is no philosophical diatribe, but an observation as to how my life unfolded and how it unfolded the way it did, only because I had my violin as my trusted confidant. Had it not been for the art, I would have been just another individual. By saying that, I do not imply, I am an extra terrestrial, but by stating that what I mean is , I didn’t take too long to be friends with myself. Any art form, when started formally, teaches the first lesson to befriend yourself and it does so in style by freeing yourself of all the apprehensions or anxiety you would have ever harnessed. If you start it late, still fine, since it will rip your ego apart to the ground and humble you to swallow mud. Well when I pluck it wrong, I know violin is not at fault. A violin can never be at fault, only I can be. There can be only one culprit who shares the dais as the victim. There it is, I have started being modest.
It is just a memoir to my parents, that they instilled this interest in me from a young age. I just pray that all the kids get the opportunity of having an art to be their aide. It does more than help. Academic education cannot be a guiding light in your life, if you cannot value your own self. Art teaches you all there is to know about yourself. If there are young parents, or going to be ones in the near future reading this, it is a humble request, instill that sense of art form in your child from an early age. Return of Investment, in the modern financial world will be unimaginable. Moreover nothing like Indian art. I have been lucky to have got this privilege to learn an art. It has given me courage, to start all over again, when I did badly. It didn’t grade me as a topper or a failure; it was always there in its case waiting for me to come back to it. It gave me modesty, when I was over confident of it giving my side come what may. It had its moods too, and it was inversely proportional to my ego. It freed me from any fear, as it had no fear. In all, it taught me how much I have to learn. I am still learning, and I still feel blank.
In brevity, in those 3 hours of togetherness with Violin, if you ask me what I thought, I would say I don’t know. Its just like being up from Coma, because the toughest thing after a strenuous practice, especially when your mind wants more, but the body gives up due to lack of practice is, “what Now ?. “ It just seems blank“ after you open your eyes, just like when you cry, being out in this adolescent world, because may be you would have worried, Oh my god, “what now?“. Life seems empty. I don’t know how time goes, when I am playing Bahudari or a Kalyani, but all I know is I am somewhere safe. I am not adorned with a venetian mask, if at all, I am taking all of it, one by one, clothes first, to stand stark naked facing not the world but myself on the other end, the reflection being full of pretense and despair. It is like I could imagine, this is what I will be once I come out of the womb. I am sure every single child visualizes reality, and that’s precisely why it cries on being out. Very few are blessed to chance themselves to time travel and reincarnate again and again as and when they please. I do it with my confidant all the time. My mind is just blank to categorize it into any of the categories of hobby, passion, meditation, expression etc. I just play, because I love it, and I can take birth as an individual all over again after I am done.
In the end, amidst that blank neurology, which is as good as being alive again, is when you realize, how profusely you have been sweating, and the floor beneath your thigh, your palms and your forehead is filled to the brim with it. That’s when realization dawns upon you, with the warmth in your body pushing your adrenalin energy levels up, that `A sweat from the violin never stinks“

I Clicked !

2011-08-01T06:19:00.000-07:00

I clicked a picture, it came out as words
I clicked a scene of nature and it crossed my world with swords

I clicked a lake, it seemed to be dry
I clicked the blue sky, it wept long to have a cry

I clicked a musician; I could hear the music unfold
I clicked a ruined empire fort, its tempest now in blindfold

I clicked the forest; it appeared to dance with lush
i clicked the rainbow, it rose high to bridge two worlds with silent hush

I clicked machines, the marvel for to be admired and revel
I clicked a graveyard, its ironies and mysteries throwing a rebel.

I clicked mankind; it felt ashamed of its hollow.
I clicked a lion, it showed the depth of sixth sense’s shallow.

I clicked a tiny insect; it showed its magnanimous colors of hue
I clicked a rain tanned window; it shone from pearls of frozen dew.

I clicked my footsteps, and i see friends’ along with mine, in some
I clicked my life; of all years, to know how young I have become.

Point Of No Return

2011-07-24T03:52:00.000-07:00

he pain of pricking needle forgiven in the beginning, you should really come to this piece of land, Here we are the cattle, and the world is fertile by our own droppings. The world is not blue but plasma lit, with colors that you choose with a touch of your hand.

Oh that is so gross a description, tell me in real terms, what is that you see ?

Hmm you are so filled to the brim with pretense, let it go man, see my world come with me, Come and see how is it that we live here with angels playing disguise, I run naked, I don’t grow old, but grow younger with each breath of air. Oh we breath here, not air, but the aroma of selflessness. Smell yourself naked. The whole skin smells of aroma from fruits soaked in honey and dried in summer sun. There is no rain, its only summer, water is not salty, but sweet. I see no buildings, but tents, tents where people live not like you, but like us, like together in peace, and only thing on us is smile. We live with animals, we run with dreams. We dont dream, we live on them.

Will you tell me what is it there you see, that should compel me to take the step. I will if I am convinced.

Aah, you moral soul, always wanting justification for every single thought on your mind, well, I cant waste time, I can see angels of Avalon sitting by the tree, Oh I do see a tree. A tree that has birds around it, oh wait, in fact it has been built by birds in position of branches, which birds are those, aah some colorful some dull, they do make a great circus out there, It is a world where my feet wont get dirty even with all the walking and running barefooted. In fact I never touch foot on the ground. I float, no wonder my speed is magnified. There is no friction. I can suddenly sense myself swimming in deepest packet of water body, and i feel the water itself is non existent. I cant differentiate, even the deepest planet of ocean is sun lit, and i get a piggy ride on shark. While its tail is what is seen, i am on top of it, standing on my toe. There is no scientific analysis and experimentation. Root cause, is we only live, not think of living. Oh coming back to the tree. The tree is so full of fruits, they are brown fruits that look like a mix of apple and mango.

A mix of apple and mango ? how is that possible ?

Ah, this is where, you imagine my friend. You know what I see, the angels are cutting them pieces by pieces and waiting for me to get to them. I can see long lost Sun, again shining with glory, it feels ocean is green with jewels underneath, where in I can swim naked, and I don’t feel cold. The birds are not parched with thirst, but they are the real musicians, you can hear them hum the song that you want to hear. There is no genre, there is only love. There is peace. The whole world seems like Blue azure, with a blanket cover by ocean, and I am right in middle of it, in a seat of waves, while the animals do a tap dance, on earth, such that I can see my life being animated. In my world I get entertained J

Oh so is it just that you are tired of entertaining masses that you want to escape ?

Ah my friend, why are you so stupid ? If I wanted to escape that part, I would stop making music, or whatever that is I make. I just am too tired in your world of the word “I”. I just want to sink the self obsession, and get rid of selfishness. In brevity I have had ENOUGH of myself? Here I don’t think about me, there in simple words is no ME or I. It is us, we, and my world with beauty undefined. Are you coming as yet, can barely hear you, am running far.

But aren’t you contradicting yourself, you want to stop being too into yourself but you want to get entertained on your own world ? Is that a pun intended statement or what ?

Stupid, Absolutely stupid. What this white powder you have in hand, is a world within. It will take you to the world where you won’t think about yourself. You will only relish what you see, and what you see, is beyond vision. Beyond imagination. You want the Sun to be smaller, you make it happen by a click, you want the world to be embezzled into a far off galaxy, you personally can air lift it to the place that you deem appropriate. I am no more part of your stupid world to think about myself anymore.

Well how do you intend to come back? I guess you have overdosed yourself with this stuff or powder or that you call world within? And you are about to press your button again, that will be point of no return my friend?

Well my friend, Point of no return has been long achieved. Let me press it one more time. Oh come on, Let me press it or will ya press it for me, am too far to press it in your world.
All these trips to this tranquility have made my return to your land, filled with falsification and pretentious beings to be non existent, useless and Zilch. I see no reality there. This is where my reality is, and this is where I belong. This is where I shall be, ever smiling and ever happy with my angels singing for me to glory, while I rest in their lap in middle of ocean while the succinct coral reef, makes itself for my bed. Ah Paradise!

So what happens to the ones who would miss you back here in this world of reality?

Amen, They would realize soon, they did nothing but wasted all their lives on themselves, They are so abound themselves that they will forget I existed. Well, you will too, See you my friend, my angels are ready, and I need to be entertained, not for once, forever it is

Hope

2011-07-13T04:45:00.000-07:00

As a 6 year old , all you would want is to run around, Live in your own world of hallucinations, thinking
It is a boon to be alive, to kick anything that moves , where in the pain of falling from jumping from so high, even as high as your bed to the ground, or taking my hand to fire to overpower it, just because i never knew, Fire could me much more powerful than me and that it has the capacity to consume me, or even incapacitate me, to teach me a lesson on mortality.
.

But as a 6 year old, there was no fear, not even a sense of apprehension that my life will take a turn that will have no ending, or not even a beginning.

Having lived 4 times the age of a 6 year old physically, and the same amount in negative growth mentally, I know it could have been me? Oh really what could have been me? A child prodigy? Doesn’t matter, every child is a prodigy by itself and for parents, and the world, it is this child, the 6 year old hyper activeness and innocence, that makes a better place to be in. To never to have a time without a smile.

But what happens, when at 6 year old, I am promoted to infinite levels of education and am taught a lesson on mortality?

Yes, 9 years back that’s exactly what happened. 6 year old “A” came from School, his penultimate day at school before he was to embark on a journey that was a turn in his life, to USA to join is father along with his family.

He came from School, threw away his little tiny boots in his typical camaraderie with his thoughts, but 3 pm, his metabolism got better of him. He took money lying at the table to help himself for a biscuit packet that he loved the most. Wish there was no money there, I just wish, there was no table, I just wish there was no metabolism, I just wish there was no shops opened, I just wish there was a rubber slip stitched to his legs, Oh I just there were No life on that day.

But alas, there was, there was the money, there was the biscuit, there was the metabolism, and there he “was” to run without footwear to the mushy earth land which was perched with thirst, and was blessed with drizzle. Drizzle enough, to never return the gift of god back home. Yes he never returned, but went in a parcel to the same God, if he existed, who sent to him as a blessing. His mortality became a curse. Curse that would haunt the family, the whole world, for the time there exists life, death and afterlife. I understood years later, he was “electrocuted”. A electric wave passed through his tiny body, from a live wire which he happened to step on , thanks to our ever efficient Electricity Board. I am sure when the waves passed, for the millisecond he was alive, he would have conversed with GOD, to give his nod, he understood the lesson of mortality and he “passed” with flying colors. No there was not a single droplet of Blood color, but still he did with flying colors.

Saturday, was a musical concert of artistes assembling from across the world. Music, as they say has no language. But it did. And enough to burry me down too deep to earthly bounds. There were couple of guys from Iran, who were performing the Persian Santoor, Lets call him “B” and Cajon, a percussion instrumentalist, named as”C”.
While the evening was filled with melancholy with the enchanting sounds of Santoor filling the air, and the Cajon consistently filling the tremors, both “B” and “C” enjoyed themselves, even without realizing they exist in a certain place called “World”. They were in trance, for 45 minutes that they played. Yes they did know the time running, as they had perfected it to an art, to keep up with time. Well deserved was the standing ovation that they acquired at the end of the performance. But it was soon to change. For the ones who stood for the tiny fraction of their life to applaud, and for me, who stood there to realize there lied a moment of awkwardness.

I, with the flow of being on top of the world with one worthless performance and compliments from the concert before “ B “ and “C”, and also reveling on my networking ability, repeated the same dumb paraphrase. As I was doing with anyone whom I met during the day. I went to “B” & “C”and realized Santoor player, “B” can talk not even two words in English, but Cajon player, “C” could. He did in a broken language, but managed to smile that no language can define, and even complimented me for my performance before them.
But It was not it. It was not the time when you feel useless. Not yet. But you always realize, before being embarrassed, a few seconds before that you will be humbled down, or a feeling like being naked and walking in crowded streets of Benaras. It always comes to your mind at least milliseconds before the actual incident. It did to me, that evening.

I asked him, “ Do you have a facebook account, with my android pointing” to let him know I would be adding him in seconds. Before which the audio system blared. I realized it was the organizer, wanting to talk. And am glad he did. At that time is when he described, that he had found those two artistes on streets of Iran and sent them flight tickets to perform here.

With that I turned to the Cajon player again, and he had the same grin, not realizing it was about them that the organizer is talking about, and for whom the audience is having a fake and flawless expression of awe, only to forget moments later at the food counter.

He said, he doesn’t have computers, replying to me, the difference of time for question was answer, was just a wait for my head to turn back to him, from the Organizer’s announcement.
What he said were the exact words imprinted on my memory, as below.

“Back home, we play every evening at 18 hours, for 2 hours, earn money, and go for dinner”.

Already feeling naked to the last part of my toe germ. It was time to dwell to myself about the irony, of both the question and the answer.

And for their talent, with my limited knowledge of that subject, they could perform with Shivkumar Sharma, yes ,That Calibre.

Two incidents, enough or too much to make me realize, I should always be undressed in my mind, to know, we as mankind have taken life too far much for granted.

While those guys played, with their eyes closed, and a smile that was epitome of trance through them, not worrying about it would be the same routine of “EARN AND DINNER” once this trance was over, it was much much similar to when "A" , lied on his coffin, with eyes closed, knowing he doesn’t have to live tomorrow or to grow up to be a faggot of a mankind, alike me.

Both lived their moments, although with brievity. “A” for 6 years, “B” and “C” for 45 minutes, or all those hours they play to earn their income.

When I rewind to the composition by “B” and “C” and to “A” lying calm and happy with eyes closed, I realize,

What really matters in life ? Even if Life really matters?
How can I realize, that the world does not need to put up with my fuss or my tantrums?

I will never convince myself on what I want from this life, but these two humbling incidents, at least made me realize, what I DON’T WANT.
And on top of that list is, my failure to convince, the ones I love the most in my life,
“That I loved them like no tomorrow and much more than yesterday”

That’s all I can do for mankind, and for the hope of it, if there is any left.

Amen

Too Fury(ious)

2011-03-11T20:54:00.000-08:00

If only nature had a subtle way to show its fury against mankind. Well it might say this is my subtle way of gearing up for apocalypse. Heart goes out to the incorrigible videos that are aired, seems like a directorial master piece at the hands of Disney and other animation mavericks’ studio. But no, Nature is too animated all by itself and the animation was too much to ask for.

This is a crisis, a big hit crisis, and I hope this is not multi faceted by another nuclear disaster. If nature’s hit was a disaster, we don’t need a manmade disaster to summate it. And Japan, of all Countries needs no lesson on the magnanimous effects of radioactive leaks. God no more, we don’t need impaired genetics, no impaired birth, no more.

Does it give a lesson to our Country? Well might be. We have some humungous nuclear reactors, Kalpakkam, near Chennai coastline, and BARC near Mumbai coastline. Are we well guarded if God forbid, a crisis of this nature, hits us ? Well I have no clue about it, it is for our beloved nuclear scientists to assure us for. Even for that matter, a press conference from none other than Dr A.P.J Kalam would do a lot good in giving us hope that they are well protected from Nature’s fury, and from mankind, can be answered by our Military personnel.

Hope is all, we can have, for those Japaneese people, who have shown great grit all throughout their generation, in making their country what it is today, even after crisis after crisis has hit them. It is heartening to see, USA to be the first few to offer aid to Japan. In my word, Japan is well of themselves, they will survive this impending fury of Nature again. All we can do is Hope, they carry their grit and courage that has inspired the whole world and will continue to do for generations together.

God be kind to them, and hearty condolences to the families who have lost their loved ones. While the official casualty number is not yet out, we all know, just by looking at the surly videos, it is going to be a number that will be ashamed of self. But I pray for them, sincerely, because in my opinion, one country, that deserves the best of all, is Japan.

And at the same time, hope that before Nature’s fury is directed, against us, we sought our mankind fury at various part of the Country and live peacefully, the time we have. Because we all know, and no matter how optimistic you have become or are, the clock is ticking. Nature wont take the nonsense any more.

Living a good corrupt..

2011-03-10T22:46:00.000-08:00

There is only one word in the recent few months and weeks that has corrupted my mind to the core, CORRUPTION.

They say, anything overboard, even hatred for that matter, will make you stand against it, and that thought is concocting in my mind. Is it really worth it to strive against Corruption ?

Well anybody who wants to get a passport at the earliest goes by the notion that he has to carry Rs 200 for getting the process moving, and closing it early. So mankind, with its advanced accounting metrics and knowledge has already accounted the extra cost, to the original cost of acquiring a Passport. Big deal?

You might want to ask, such an absurd analogy, but come to think of it. I go to a Pizza corner, and look at the menu for the price that is affordable at my wage rate, but when the bill comes, I always pay a 12% extra as “ TAX”. Now next time, I know how to account this price oscillation, and if 400 is my budget, the food shall be not more than 350 Bucks’

Well what is the difference?

By that means, Taxation, ought to be our greatest tool for corruption? But there is no mention whatsoever for that. Corruption surely needs to be checked, but my opinion, have it in your balance sheet, as a cost. Because, when we can conclude, Corruption to be a certain percentage of our GDP, we can as well for our own benefit, come to accept it as a habit,that we cannot live without.

We loathe corruption because; we do not have the opportunity to do so. It is just like the hyperbole relationship between MTV roadies and the millions of young viewers of the show. You loath it, and the two similar looking aliens on the show, but come Saturday, you are tuned to watch impregnable guys getting absurd treatment from the aliens, like a social experiment. You watch it for the only reason, that If it was me over there, I would have answered better, and I am better than the guy currently aired on video. I loathe it only because I do not have the opportunity to be there. Period.

Next time, in a restaurant charging, Service tax, ask them, if you can take the food all by yourself from the kitchen, and not pay Service tax. Awakening happens then.

Resigned " TO FATE"

2010-07-31T08:45:00.000-07:00

Dear “Helpless man “

I hereby tend my resignation from the organization. I am getting married in a couple of months, and intend to relocate to join my spouse, who is settled abroad. I would like you to respect this decision, and release me at the earliest. I am ready to fulfill my notice period, and also give adequate knowledge transfer to my replacement, as required of me.

I appreciate the organization for providing me this valuable opportunity, and although the resignation is a painful decision for me, I would request you to process my formalities at the earliest.

Thanking
“ 2010 woman”

The reply

Dear “2010 Woman”,

I acknowledge the receipt of your mail. I regret to inform that your resignation is not accepted, for the primary reason, our organization has a global presence, and you can try and also be assured of getting an opportunity to work in the same location where your spouse would be. I am putting you on to the correct personnel who will help you find the opportunity, and also help in the settling process.

In the event of the same not coming through, which is unlikely, we have one more option to help you with the dilemma. We would love to have your spouse in our company, because we are always in need of great talent. So we would try our level best in giving a suitable offer, to your spouse, which will help you both settle very well in your post marriage life.

I wish you great luck in your new innings in your personal life.

Thanking
“ Helpless Man”

The counter reply

Dear “Helpless Man”

Let me take the opportunity to thank you sincerely for trying the option of getting a work in the location of my spouse. Also, it is a commendable initiative to try an option for my spouse in the organization. I regret to say that, I do not intend to continue working, as my in laws are not keen in me working post marriage, and I would like to adhere by their point of view.

Although I take pride in working in this organization and also feel obliged that the organization is willing to accommodate me in getting an opportunity, I am very clear and am in no dilemma. I feel, I should go ahead with my decision.

I would appreciate if you could let me know a suitable release date.

Thanking again
2010 Woman

The reply
Dear “2010 Woman”

It is by far a greatest truce, primarily because you, with all your education cannot convince your in laws in changing their point of view. Today, women are there everywhere and the main reason for their presence and eradicating the inequality is their willingness to contribute to the cause, and independence is their tool of choice.
I am again rejecting the application, because we can go ahead and discuss the same with your in laws, with your permission of-course. We have a separate women counseling cell that will take the onus and will help you come over the obstacle convincing your in laws.

Do not worry, as we know that you would love to continue working, and also the independence and intellectual maturity that the work offers you and we would try our best to have your right with you.

Thanks

Helpless man

CLIMAX

Dear “ Helpless Man”

I REITERATE, this is getting a bit overboard. It is not only my in-law’s choice, but mine as well. I do not intend to work anymore. Although working was exciting and a good learning, I think I should be at home, and also take a BREAK. I need a break from the hustle bustle, work activity, and post marriage, it would be beneficial to all parties involved, including myself.

I would be able to concentrate on my personal life, and in no way willing to sacrifice on that.

I would appreciate if you are sensitive to my concerns, and let me know my release date.

No Thanks
2010 Woman

The Reply

Dear “2010 Woman”

It is a pity, and absolutely against altruism that you intend to take a break. Well for the same break, we give you annual leaves and what not, but here I find absolutely no relevance to any for the cause of recreation.

I wonder if this is all that you perceived for yourself in the future, why did you even pursue with zeal and vigor your engineering studies ? It would have been better to stop at HSC, and learn about family and sacrifices, post that.

I intend to let you know, that we invest the same amount in training, invest the same in getting you a good opportunity, and why do only you have to take a break? I have never had, or will never have a male counterpart walking and telling me, that he intends to take a break post marriage.

I accept your resignation, but please note that, I would never ever want to hear from you about gender inequality at the top of the corporate hierarchy, when educated women like you do not want to contribute to the same.

No thanks
“Helpless Man”

Anti Climax

Dear “ Helpless Man”

I have been offended by this mail, and I intend to escalate this to higher authorities on unethical behavior.

This is an open case of insult, personal defamation and also mental trauma and I want to let you know that you would have to face the music.

2010 Woman

The end

Dear “Helpless man”

We are in receipt of a complaint against you for unethical behavior, and you have been charged for discriminatory comments and personal defamation. It is with restraint and unfortunate that at this position the comments are totally derogatory.
We hereby issue you a stern notice of warning, and would want you to issue a written apology to the party involved and also taking an adequate step to not repeat the same in the future.

Thanking,
Whomsoever it is concerned 

The nail in the coffin..( Whose coffin ??)

Dear “whomsoever it is concerned”,

I hereby tend my resignation, because I intend to take a break. A break from fate, and also a break from the fateful repercussions if I tend an apology.

Thanking,
Helpless Man

Elvis has left the Building

2010-07-18T09:22:00.000-07:00

Elvis has left the building,

It all started with the phrase by a very good friend (Credits to follow in the end), “The louder the music, the older you are”.

The writing of-course has nothing to do with the Notre dame of Music and the king of rock and roll. Being closely related to marketing field, I thought it might catch some eyelids for otherwise usually a dry response to my blog post, but of-course it holds some resemblance to the great man, Elvis.

This write up is all about “Legacy”.

Well I never imagined, If, of all the People, I would be writing about getting Older or to cut short, AGE. But here I am, at – years of age ( Reasons for not disclosing will also follow ), writing about the most important, albeit controversial topic (Specifically for the opposite gender ) AGE. It is not a well thought event, but is just like a sudden wake up on the “other” side of an island, and just trying to have the prerogative built with a transition from one island to the other, if there was any transition. Sorry, I never had a transition.

This was inspired by some random set ofevents, some shocking, intriguing conversations with friends, and of-course how to forget the visit to Saloon and Usage of Gillette in the monthly bill.

I go back to the phrase where it all started, “The louder the music, the older you are” and this took a new imperative turn on me, because it was all going to well at a house party, Loud music, lots of food, friends frolicking, yelling, where in I pitched in first by reducing the volume, and also commanding the troops to follow decorum by reducing the decibel levels.

Will it be termed under a non cognizable crime? Well not really, but given the topic under discussion, I can’t even manage a parole.

The same week, was followed by another shocker. Well honestly, you never think you are old enough till the time, you get into a gully, where the future Rs 200 crore, brand ambassadors are playing our one day would be National Sport. I was not left behind, and I did enter a gully. And just like how the alarm gives you a rude awakening on Monday morning, I woke up. Nowadays, even gullys are filled with cars parked in all geometrical shape. So Terrace is where the sport is, but would still term it Gully cricket. The ball landed on my feet, and I bowed down to pick it up, there was a call, “UNCLE, sorry, please give the ball back”. Woah, Did the kid even look at me properly to address me in such rude manner ? Or did he look at me with eye to detail like the CIA agents in another Hollywood flick, to address me like that ? I really didn’t have an answer, I threw the ball up, (thrice to be honest) so that it has the thrust to reach the terrace, and the worst was to follow, three throws, and the arm already ached.

Working with colleagues who have great sense of humor is a blessing. Especially, when that is the only thing that keeps you afloat. But sometimes overdose of it, leaves you with no choice but to sulk. It was another one of those discussion on how you are going to shape your future where in my dear friend ( I Told you credits to follow suite ) commented, dude “we” have reasons to worry. We have 56 % of our life pending to live, and in that what can we do justice to ? WOAH 56, God help me break the mystery derivation of the number, but if it is true, with Medicinal blessing, I wonder where did my 44% of life vanish?? I vaguely remember laughing, spoiling plans, puncturing tires, throwing tantrums, breaking windows, fighting, brawl etc or even the first viewership privilege of soft porn.
Was I in selective amnesia and suddenly woke up to the fact that I have only 56 % of my life ahead ???But the realization of the no of age wasn’t the shocker, the shocker was to decide on priorities for the remaining 56% of my life. I am wondering, if I really would be able to make justice to the remaining part ?

Work place is where you spend 70 % of your time that you are awake. And All the happening in the work place has more than double the impact on how the remaining 30 % is going to be spent. Well there was a time, when I was a toddler in the corporate life, where I used to be addressed as a kiddo, a youngster, etc. Well honestly, it did vacillate my school of thought and forced me to sport a moustache and a French goatie, But the plan backfired, now the same facial reincarnation is what makes the new joins in the corporate world who get a rude welcome by having to meet me first in their new world , address me as “Sir”, and of course the perception that “I am very serious and senior person” from people I just spoke to. Well talk about oxymoron.

The last, but the pinnacle of frustration is your trip to saloon, or get ready for one exhaustive trip to your friendly neighborhood saloon. How you might wonder? But honestly, the last time I went to a saloon to have a hair cut it was some good 3 months back. Now that will go as Quarter expenses in my P & L statement, because there was a time when it was almost a monthly visit. The catch 22 here is a very fact that am shelling out oozles in the Gillette to upkeep the goatie, will take care of the monthly or expenses. Well it aint really about the money here, but woah, but the fact that the growth in the head is taken over by the face is unnecessary intrusion in the transition. The white silver lines here and there, amidst a balding oval head, and face looking like, a prisoner out, does not really auger well here. I hate to go to the saloon for the reason, he might laugh that I am trying desperately to have the trimming done, or he would not take money for having to do so less or NO work, or worst, if he would have to ask “ Sir want a dye ?”.

I agree that age is a painful number, and now am really empathetic towards all those elderly boisterous gentlemen, retired , who still come to jog, drive and walk, and still want to be considered amongst the crowd. Or the ones who say, oh good Lord help your generation. I am sure they would have gone through the bell curve, or still reeling through the syndrome.

But the realization ain’t that. The realization is, do I really have to care on that number that helps me in getting retirement benefit ?
Am I not still the 6 year old Calvin, that my friends address me as? Well why spend the remaining 56% of the future worrying about the 56% or lesser or say more? We all know that our age will be as part of a quadratic equation for kids, and CAT aspirants. And it really will help them score some brownie points.

While writing this piece, I have already entertained two complains about LOUD music from my place, sitting in a room, with a round neck t shirt, with Gelled Spiked hair, and with facebook on. Talk about being young.

It doesn’t matter to me as I have realized I have sailed to the other side, while failing to realize, even if the boat didn’t move, the water was flowing. Age is just a number, and the kids will call me UNCLE, and I did the same to aplenty during my time. Its just natural. I would not carry the number in my head, or even in my heart.

For the comment on the music, I would give credit to Mr Pavan Bhosle, who being couple of years elder to me, was still younger on that day 

And o fcourse for giving the numerical data of 56 % I thank Mr Abraham, Oh good lord wonder how you managed that equation.

I finally apologize for flaunting too many of numbers here and there, but that is what I wanted to portray. It’s all just numbers, taken seriously, will result in another numbers in Medical biils.

I am not cutting down the sweet intake, although will be responsible in usage. Aint cutting down on the calorie, because not impacted too harshly. I am Only cutting down on frivolous idiosyncrasies that made me look like a retired Colonel. Cutting down on all those nonsensical things, to make me look cooler with gentlemen I have to put up with everyday.

I am sure, I would follow the curious case of Benjamin Button way, and am sure I would have you for company.

After all,

Elvis has left the building  

A letter from Vincy!

2010-01-06T09:32:00.000-08:00

Dear Neighbor
I the undersigned am hoping that this letter reaches you at the best of your health and best of your mood. Best of your mood probably because, I have not seen that in you all the time I have been in front of you. I write this letter because I know that the relationship between us both neighbors is strained and not in best of terms, and I heard everyone makes resolution for the same, so I have one of my own.
Before explaining my complex resolution I want to thank you for acknowledging this letter and reading it till here, and hope you read till the end. I also want to warn you that I am not blessed with too much of literary skills and might waver from point to point, because I want this letter to be very informal.
Ok Let us come back to the sardonic Resolutions. I heard from my house owner, that resolutions are always meant to be broken. I thought to myself, why on earth are human beings so weird? But I decided I will have one of my own and will see to it that I fulfill the same with flying colors. I want to thank you for inspiring me to have a resolution.
The resolution is to improve our relationship and have a benevolent neighborhood. Neighbors cannot afford to be in cold war all the time. I have had this thought from the beginning that something inside you always hates me or loathes at my behavior or is it jealousy? And if you intend to reply, I would love to hear from you the reasons on the same. I know what is going on your mind and I can sense the frown through radioactive waves even here. I know you would ask for justification as all of your kinds do. SO here it goes.
I come for a morning stroll, and I see you leave for your work early, probably in a hurry or worry of going to miss something. You are still dangling out your bag, and trying to fix things inside the food carrier, which smells yum, that is trying to get inside. I am extremely good at picking smell you see. I observe that your shoe laces are untied, and I try to tell you politely, and you give a snarling look to freak my helter shelter in the morning. I worry, on how many times you might have had a fall. All I get for my good intention is a nasty little stare.
The next time I see you in the day is when you come back from work, I am excited with the darkness after the dull day, and revel in the cheer of my house mates of coming back, at the verandah. I see the little snobbish smile in you as well, and I greet you and welcome with you and you gave me that snarling look again making me contemplate of something severely wrong that I would have done to get the treatment from you.
At the night, Yes I knew I was too loud sometimes, but wouldn’t you like a sound sleep for the rest of your life than suffer a minor 1 minute delay in sleep ? Because All I do is just ensure that all things are safe and sound and no one takes the street for granted.
I remember, when you were almost about to get me beaten up when All I was trying was to help your mom from stamping the dirt behind her. I take complete responsibility of leaving my dirt there, but was genuinely trying to help your mother, when she walked ahead, but you thought I had malicious intention and scared the hell out of me. Trust me the whole evening I waited for you both to come back so that I can ask for forgiveness, and when I saw you coming, I couldn’t utter a word, because I heard you giving “inspiring comments” about my behavior. I wailed the whole night. You wont remember, but I did not utter a single word the whole night
You were away for 3 weeks, and I missed you. Although there were many instances, that I would have been loud and nasty, but the whole street was happy, and no one really complained, there were no estranged personals, no hawkers, no frills no brawls.
Trust me I hate brawls. Oh that reminds me of a brawl that happened in the street. I know both were intoxicated, and you thought I was too loud in the brawl and assumed I was part of the brawl, where as all I was trying to do was to scare them away for rest of you to live peacefully. I was successful, but failed in your eyes again.
Yes I remember on two days of the week, sorry I don’t know which days fall when, but two days when you try to sleep at a weird noon hour, I disturb you, Again your assumption and accusation, but I was just conversing with my friends which doesn’t go well with you. I do that every single day, but just because you experience only a part of the time and cant digest the same that I become a misnomer in society and a menace for you. How terrible is the feeling of un-acceptance.
Enough of accusations, but let me come to a conclusion. I do not want to continue with this crazy little cold war between us. I want to be a good, friendly, well behaved neighbor, and I think I have enough capacity for the same. My life span is limited and I want to live by making my neighbors happy. I know I look ugly, although some find me cute, but I will assume I look ugly to you, but let me tell you nothing will give me more happiness than seeing my neighbors and nearby people happy and it doesn’t really matter how I look. It was Nature’s choice of creating me and I completely respect that. Ask my housemates, I entertain them with those single choices every moment.
So I am ready to change, for your benefit although some concepts are imbibed. Like I cannot converse with you, like others do, because I don’t have blessed conversation skills as well. But doesn’t mean I don’t talk. You need an open mind to understand my language of love.
All said and done am waiting for your reply. You might consider my language as loud and the term you humans use is bark. Bark it is, but please understand that when I wag my tail that is to get your nod for my affection and the BARK is when you wear those skimpy colored shoes, that does not go well with the jeans.That was my last offensive statement, I thought I could use my right on you.
If you can come out in the balcony, you can see me wagging my tail and trying to sniff out the bad goons in the street. So hope to meet you as a friend once and go for a friendly walk.
Yours Sincerely
Vincy, BOW BOW

Two Women & a paradox called Love!

2009-09-09T19:59:00.000-07:00

The first time I got her glimpse, I was screaming right in highest decibels. There was a pain, which was not flatulence. But the first glimpse was enough to fight off the pain. It was the most beautiful sight, since I saw an angel so pure.

I was crying out loud, I didn’t know where I was, why I was here. This place looked strange. I didn’t know who everyone was. I cry. I realize I was crying, very late.

If god created piece of art, it can’t get better than her. She was the most beautiful feeling and it is not an occult to anyone about her. My mundane corsair was suddenly turned into Garden of Blossoms because she was there. She made me smile, made me cry, made me moan out of pain when she bit me ruthlessly even though I fed her with my all with no brevity.

She fed me, she kissed me. I yelled cried when it was all dark, but none other than she could understand my expressions. I was still shocked in the world, but she made the portents vanish like thin air. She was there always. I knew she was my savior.

She grew quite fast. She grew up to be very intelligent, very notoriously cantankerous and a vociferous rage. As the day went by, she wanted to make full of it. She wanted to learn. She wanted to jump, yell, dance, run naked, trouble neighbors, pick up fight with the boys, get hurt and hurt them even more but act she got hurt more. Suddenly it stopped. She bled. She became a woman. She grew up. I grew younger.

I was a rage. I punched boys. I was stronger than them. I broke windows of neighbors. I swallowed mud. I chewed dirt to solace. I kicked dogs. I hit them with stones. I ran, with nothing on, my world was my cosmos. Suddenly, I was hurt without knowing. It all stopped. She culminated my rage into ashes. She poured water onto my flaming hopes. I Changed. It all changed.

She became the talk of the town. Her marauding beauty never went unnoticed. I waited all the time for her. Be it to get a bar of soap or for an ethnic day outing from the social club called College. I waited. From 4 am to 4 am, for her to come. I gave her a device to call me in need. It never served the purpose. For once I hated God for creating boys, or boys who whistle, or boys who form their own cul de sac. I waited for her to be back. For every second the world seemed to be far away and I felt lonely.

I had a time of my life. Ethnic day was fun. I got myself drunk. I danced like there is no tomorrow. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t have to know does she? What difference does it make? I told her my agenda for the day and it isn’t distorted. Hookah was special so was smoke. I felt cool. I felt courageous. I felt I was a rebel the world would never get a chance to victimize. 11 pm became 4 am, courage and fun does not come in time tables. Oh my device battery ran out, so what? These are not my priorities.

The only time I admired her beauty was when she was asleep. The rest of the time, I was paranoid. She thought I was jealous, she thought I wanted to see her as me. No, that is an accusation, a crime charges hung upon me. She was the most beautiful person ever alive. When she cried when she could not take the pain, the days I would pamper with love and care, I loved it. I loved myself. But the irony is being myself for 3 days in a month is more than a crime. It was flatulence, a fraud. She was becoming a rebel. She wanted to prove me wrong. But she was young. She was growing up and I wanted her to grow in the right way. I didn’t know how to react when I read her sms’es. She thought I invaded her privacy. I am sorry for that. But I wanted her privacy to be hers. She had to be safe in the world of victimizations. She cannot handle it. She is sober. She is a kid. She can’t treat herself with profanity. This hysteria kills me. I want her to be at home, locked. I want her sensous, long and flying eagle legs, to be crystallized and locked with each other.

The short skirt was the coolest thing I ever attired. The comments in face book, even better. It is a shame; I use the college loo as my dress change dormitory. She is old, she can’t get over Salwar. Has she ever admired my beautiful legs?

She went by. She quarreled. She gave up hope on me; she thought I was her villain. How her life has become a pirates corsair where in the only play that happens is of gluttony of vehemence and vicious poisoned phrases. She went far by. I cried. I cried, I prayed. The glimpse of her wet blooded body, on the day she came out, when Death was staring right in my eyes, giving me an option. Why did I ignore Death to catch a glimpse of her? I know she will be back. But my old eyes seem to have lost vision. Did I do wrong? I will be proud of her always, does she know that? Did she know that I want myself to change to be a friend of her, but I am unable to help myself? I felt lonely. I am her friend. I am her shadow. I am her. Does she know that?

I won. I am independent. I am no more suffocated by the whims and fancies of her. She cried. But I don’t feel bad, because someone had to lose. I won. I had no angst against her. I want her to be proud of me. I will make her proud by the decisions I make. Why doesn’t she understand that I am grown up. I can take care of myself. The world is cruel, but I have enough sanity to face the cruelty with my weapons called brains. Why does not she understand, she needs to change with the times. She is old, and that is not applicable. Life is not a list of boundaries that one keeps encountering. I want to fly high, and she cant clip my wings. Why doesn’t she understand, I am not her villain to deliberately disappoint.

She called me, she said she is fine. I cried. I only cried. The same crying when she left me to be herself. The same yelling when I got her out into this adolescent world. I wanted her to be with me. I needed her touch. I wanted to wake up at 4 am to admire her beauty when she was sleeping, to catch her through an eye when she was admiring herself for long in the mirror. To admire her eyes that felt like an ocean. I never admired myself so much the way I admired her. She was a goddess’ incarnation. I wanted her to be mine. I want to be her child. I want her to pamper me and tell me it is all going to be fine.

I called her. She is disappointed with me. She did not talk to me. She kept on crying. She felt I let her down. I blame myself for that. But I know I can work out things. It is just that I wanted to meet her once. I want to feel the sanctity of her food. I wanted her to tell me I am the most beautiful woman alive. I want her to admire me at 4 am in the morning sneaking on to my room. I wanted her in my lap. To caress her troubled head. I want to be her mother. I want to tell her, Its all going to be fine.

I chose my independence

2009-08-15T23:05:00.000-07:00

It is a morning again, I know for sure that is one more dawn that I need to live, may be by force, not by choice. The cuckoo seems to be overtly euphemistic about the day for it. It can’t resist living with the fact that it is another day it has got to see. I wonder if It would ever feel it was a misery to live another day, just like it’s so called “master” with whom it doesn’t have to put up a freedom struggle.
My chores for the day are pretty simple, albeit a bit unconventional for the middle class reader right now, who would be with their diet coke to check their calorie intake.

I go to the well, it is parched with thirst. Probably I love going to the well just before the sun throws its full might with full beauty, because it saves me the look of my own self in the left out water in the well. I take stock of the water left and off to my asset, to my friend I go to work it out. My asset as they call is 2acres of land. On paper it says 8, but 2 is where I get to my daily business. The remaining 6 is with one of the zameendar’s right from my birth, which was kept as a mortgage by my, self dependent father, gutsy father, the same day when he went to never return.
My land looks just like me , as it attires the same unclad dirty look that I possess. It is covered with some reclusive sartorial. It is dry, dusty, and sometimes gives me a feeling even the nature has given up on hope on its own self. The wind never seem to blow its way, depriving it of a friend, Clouds were last seen when it cried for 10 minutes. I sit with it, both in silence, because of the shame within both of us that we have been of no use for each other, when the world thinks we are best of friends.
My daughter is cooking, and I am lost in thoughts, as to how am I going to marry her off in the next week to Radhe Shyams elder son. The groom is about 16, Radha, the bride is 11. It is already late for her and I am contemplating the amount that Radhe Shyam will quote as dowry for my daughter as she is already 11, and how am I going to honor the commitment. But the thought that I have my dry, handicapped friend to back me off gives me a sigh of relief.
My son is just 7, he is not yet ready for the profession, because of his fragile and under nourished body mass. Yes I take the responsibility for his malnourishment. He is fit for education, but that is not on the priority for me, because, I will save that much of money, for Radha’s wedding. And any way education is for city dwellers, not for us. There is a school in here, but that is open only for wedding of rich Zameendars, or for free lunch that gets organized, when there are flags all over the places, lights speakers, when great people in envious clothes come and speak and address us. When they say, they will give us free water, electricity and fertilizers. All that might come or might not see the light of the day, but the day is special because we get drinks and food.
My wife, Banno died recently, although don’t know what was wrong with her. She never woke up, and there was a small, empty glass bottle, that accompanied for the last night. It has been a regular sight of mourning in the village, where people never woke up, and all that was left behind is the bottle. May be that is why the bottle is called, Salvation.
I sit with my land, thinking probably this would be the last time, I get to be with my lost friend as it would be friend of the same Zamindar, as I am in need of the money to marry Radha out and also to repay the Exorbitant sum of money that the Zamindar has lent me. But it gives me satisfaction that my handicapped friend will regain its lost parts of body, which were in the custody of the Zameendar. It will again be 8 acres. A Whole body united.
White cars, lot of them drive through the lanky and dusty fields of my village. I follow, thinking it might be beneficial for us, because it is a ritual as always, twice a year they come, they talk and they make us think after all they are there to help us. I run, my lungs do not cooperate with my legs, but I do not give up. The venue is already filled with people like me. Their odor reminds me of my own self. Greatness of this place is where people do not show off their new clothes or attires, because no one wears them, but where people show off, the ribs and bones sprawling out of their skin, to prove their misery. “More the misery, the more help you might receive.”
The promises are made, Loan has been waived, for us, no one is elated, because all eyes are on the verandah, where they give us free food and drinks.
I take the drink and take the food back home for my Children.
Amidst all this, one thing I saw was a cloth fluttering. I have experienced this sight twice a year since I have attained adulthood. They said it was our Country’s flag, but there was also another flag fluttering nearby, which kept changing every time. It was such a beautiful sight to see the flag flutter at its whole pride. I ask them, why today. And they say it is Independence day for us today, when we got independence 62 years back from the “Angrez “

I laugh at myself for being so ignorant about the fact that we are “Independent”, Independent of the misery of dictatorship of Angrez.
It was at stroke of midnight that we got our independence.
Independence means, freedom, independence means freedom of your own choice, freedom of your act, freedom to do things you want to do. Independence means being selfish for once and to chose your own way. I laugh again.
I am reminded of my wife, Banno. I am proud of her, as she understood what it means to be Independent. I am also reminded of the freedom struggle and the weapon in the glass bottle that gave her the independence.
The glass bottle is not only her weapon but also mine, the food reaches home, dusk sets in and the day is over.
For once, I laugh at nature and its surly “Night”, because I am not going to witness another misery and another dawn.
I laugh out so loud although my muscles ache by that.
I have a new friend to accompany my freedom struggle, the glass bottle.
At stroke of Midnight, I will choose my own INDEPENDENCE.

10 point No one :(

2009-08-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

A conversation with an intelligent mind can always inspire and elate you to epitome of self satisfaction. I underwent something similar. A plethora of self satisfaction, or to say self dissatisfaction.
And who better than my mom to fill in the boots of intelligent mind?
It was a very gloomy evening, in fact similar to my most working day evenings. I came home tired, exhausted as if I just came from the war, and the worst part is not being aware if I won or lost. But it is always oblivion, albeit high on emotional feeling to get home. You feel safe and secure and you can be at your crazy best and where you can throw away your grotesque pretentious mask that was worn throughout.
Mom was in the kitchen, I see her do her chores with a beautiful smile. I experience her freshness, and am put to shame, as she has worked more than what I have, and she has seen much much more wars than I can imagine. But this smile is for the satisfaction of me being there around, it makes me feel happy. She knows there would always be a crazy conversation and I didn’t disappoint her.
“Mom I Need a car” was the abrupt beginning. Probably I expected her to attire a fake shocked expression or a surprise, or at worst possible scenario a satisfied expression. But nothing, her smile got bigger, making me contemplate a strategy to face her criminal notion.
I repeat “ Mom I need a …” "Write down 10 reasons why you need a car", comes the reply. Now Dumb stuck I was. It was 10 reasons that was going to decide my fate, my bank balance, my future ( min for 5 years, till loan is out), my esteem, my standard of living etc. I do not argue, and here I am writing the reasons, 10 precious reasons. 10 points
I need a car because;

1) I have a girlfriend
2) I get tired commuting by bus
3) My friends have it
4) Because my parents are getting older and it would be convenient for them.
5) I can travel to places on weekends, ( Temples, Big Bazzaar included )
6) I want to save the world, by car pooling and reducing the carbon footprint
7) Because Driving is an art, and I am an artist
8) I can save tax by taking the loan
9) I love cars and know a lot about them
10) It will help me plan my time better

10 reasons, 10 points and I thought we would be having a discussion about the bank to choose for loan and the parking place and the make and color of the car. But destiny had its own game. If you want to share my irony, the replies are as below

1) I have a girlfriend – “She never asked you to get a car, did she ? In fact she was impressed by you before even you had a car.”
2) I get tired commuting by bus – “ You sleep in bus, you read, you listen to music, you talk on the phone with “point one your gf” with ease, you do all the things you love.
3) My friends have it – “ Depends whom you are comparing with". Now I thought I could have done better here
4) Because my parents are getting older and it would be convenient for them – "If we are old enough, why would we go out anyway at odd times? And even if we “old” parents go out it would be for a “walk” .
5) I can travel to places for weekends – "You do not club late night, neither can you afford a movie in this city to go for a movie, and neither does point one apply here on weekends, and you lazy bum need to be at home with your violin on weekends".
6) I want to save the world, by car pooling and reducing the carbon footprint – This is where I screwed it up. “ Probably your friends in point 3 share the same feeling, car pool with them”
7) Because Driving is an art, and I am an artist – “Why not glass painting?”
8) I can save tax by taking Car loan – “ You can save more money by not taking loan at all”
9) I love cars a lot and know a lot about them – “ I still am aware about how you explained the fission bomb experiment in Discovery channel”
10) It will help me plan my time better – “ Not at all, it will worsen, thanks to the attitude I have car to back it up”

I gave up.
I just thank my stars this was just a one off exercise, and is not going to continue if I have to get a book, a shirt or simple other important things.
One thing I learnt is,
If you need something, first have a 10 reasons exercise done appropriately.
By the way, Can you help me frame 10 reasons to get myself a bike?

Relationship - Meant forever or to end to weave a new one ?

2009-07-26T08:45:00.000-07:00

“A beauty of a relationship is only known after it is severed”

I wonder if that is too good to be true, and why is it that I was chosen amongst the cadet to be honored with the privilege of experiencing the myth?
I had a beauty of a relationship, in fact, the world seemed to be “at my feet” with the relationship blossoming, amidst the crowded idiosyncrasies which kept crawling within my head. I always had a perfect place to land, Never ever got cold feet, and in fact in Calvin’s terms, my toes never went numb.
We shared a lot of things in common, including skin color, not that it is a racial comment and that’s why the relationship was altogether an experience to be cherished, recollected and boasted to the core. It was like a perfect fitting sartorial between both of us..
Although our communication was always through a mediator, which would have given up by the end of the day with the brink of sweat stink, because god did not gift her with as much of ability to talk as like her beauty, ,Yet Language of communiqué was never an issue. She had the intelligence I believe and perfectly understood, what my mind desired, and took me to the destination, with no hassles and with no argument. The beauty of the relationship was “I called the shots and she lovingly obeyed”, leaving envious and pious eyes across my known beings, vying my relationship.
Day in Day out, the mediator kept changing, because of the tiresome work but the relationship between us was intact, in fact, it was becoming a gesture by itself, to lead me through the chaos and sufferings of the world.
The relationship, came at a price that was 5% percent of my monthly income, It was in fact perfect fitting for my budget, because this relationship did not have any entertainment budget, no gift budget, no post fight make up budget, no dad impressing budget, in fact no maintenance budget at all. Yes I know it is too good to be true, and I was luckiest of the lot. I can still imagine the vibrancies that vacillated across through me, when our bodies met every “morning”. Similar was the feeling of relief, when our bodies parted, at the “night time”, I can still replenish the white smile at that time.
But now, all that exists is a memory. A gloomy thought that she really existed in my life. There is a sudden vacuum and my feet did get cold, my toes did go numb. The Sartorial that pre existed remains a myth again. It lasted for less than couple of months. What went wrong? Well I guess nothing much. Just that I had left the marauding beauty all alone. And in the world, where it can prove to be a costly mistake to part even for a second with your loved one, I paid the price. She was gone. She left my feet to take me nowhere. I had no destination to cover. Someone drooled over the beauty and she became theirs in a jiffy. I was helpless; because I am yet to figure who the slayer was but am sure they did not deserve the piece of beauty. I gave up even before trying to win her back, because I knew that she had all that it required to reach far far away from the world with her new master. I was for once disappointed because I felt she needed her voice to at least warn me of the danger she went through.
My feet still has the smell of her skin, the fresh canvas aroma, my mediators although different every other day, seem to miss their friend, their aficionado, But All I can do is give them a new friend to call their own. It was a weeklong gap, as I was waiting for the month to end, and a new month and fresh currency to come in my way.

It did, and there I went to the Adidas shop, armed with a new hope and inspiration to fall in love again, to get into a new relationship. Instantaneously I found someone with an edifice charisma, similar aroma of canvas, and all the more fresher than my previous love. We connected within seconds, love at first sight they say. And with that in mind, and the happiness my mediators will have by knowing their new buddy, I paid up the cost for the pair of “shoes”.

I know, it is another relationship that wont last forever. But I can be rest assured, that as it lasts through with my feet, I can be of calm mind, knowing that the eyes of the world would be on my feet, and I would own wherever I land upon.

The beauty of it, I will call the shots again 

Two Glasses, Two different Vision

2009-07-16T00:21:00.000-07:00

My CEO is a nice man. He wears glasses. He looks very much confident and intelligent because he wears glasses. He got into a new habit, which I should say he is good at. He blogs, although don’t know if that is part of his Job description, out of coercion or just that it adds to his wallet. But he does that well. He shares his experience, which most of the organization‘s workforce could only dream of experiencing. It makes us think, contemplate, wish and desire.
But this one was special. One quote from him and that made me take a protagonist view of everything around me including my own self and my attitude.
He quoted, “Europeans are still vacationing. Recession has not hit them so hard because they have good Social Security, Unemployment privileges and Severance costs are higher”.
Implied meaning, Indians are not socially secured; they still toil hard for ages and for petty wages. Still 65 % of population is poor and 70 % poor on paper. Still 70 percent of eligible workforce is unemployed or underemployed. I am assuming he would be pretty happy to see Indians vacationing at times of recession, or when Indian workforce is compared to that of the best in class. He would love to see when every individual has his own savings and tax plan, and not only 401 soap bar but a 401 k plan?

My boss is a good man too. He wears glasses. He looks very intelligent, confident of self. He is a thorough bureaucrat, and has immense knowledge of the world around. He has great experience and has seen the world a lot more than me.
Not long ago was an idea given to my boss at a very informal meeting, but more formal than a blogging session. The idea was to have social security to our own employees. The Idea to take care of our employees with their own money.
How? Here is how.
• As a monthly deduction of a petty sum of Rs 10 from each of the employee.
• Create a fund, an insurance fund to insure their life style in case of severance.
• When an employee is actually asked to leave, ensure that for the time he gets another chance to be laid off, he gets at least 90 percent of his last drawn payment. Used from the fund.
• Result? Loyalty, Productivity increase etc.
The reply was instantaneous,
Social Security is the job of Government, not the Company 

I do not wear glasses, I do not look intelligent, Probably, I am not, not enough to understand the vacillation of thoughts amongst both my CEO and My Boss, surely not enough to get an answer to the thoughts in my mind,
“Is Convenience the only comfort?

2008-12-15T09:54:00.000-08:00

Good morning. I wake up saying to myself , as usual. One thing was not usual was my alarm didn’t go off with a blaring sound that can even awaken a politician. It was Saturday , Yippe Weekend…
SO I get up , If you think I will take you through the daily chores , or the visit to the idea generating loo , and my quality time on the pot ? Naaa sorry you would be disappointed.
The first real quality thing homo sapiens do , in the morning , is look at themselves. Mirror is the greatest discovery. Man what power to portray yourself to you. Attitude. It is always a different experience every morning. Something is different or something is amiss. For some it is a heartbreaking experience , where the thing you first notice is the grey hear as a flag raised by a Babu , or wrinkles making graffiti in your lost land called face. For some it is a life changing experience , New found love , Self confidence , or a new mirror. … But I felt nothing , it was weird , but nothing. I took the newspaper and tried to park myself in a distinct shape of my bean bag. Oops , the bean bag was stubborn , and I felt unwanted. It was an ego hurt , I chose the chair to be my companion , na wasn’t comfy too. Hmm Something is different today at the end . Then I decided to look into myself . I did and I realized the truth . Oh my god My hair could have made the ever barking golden retriever run for his money. Eeeeks I was erked . I realized time for a haircut and when I looked back at the Bean bag , man the attitude filled sack smiled at me with its lost shape.

It takes guts and money for a haircut. Guts as being a Calvin fan ,” Never disagree with someone who has a knife” and money , but obvious to not to disagree with the armed monster you have to pay him. I arm myself with guts, and money and on my journey towards self fulfillment.
The journey was exciting, Sunny day , and the air conditioned saloon . I reached there and a bunch of Vision 2020 youngsters are blocking the way. I thought if a film star is in for cutting the ribbon, but na they are on the same mission as I am , but probably started before than me. It was heartening to see the young battalion armed with newspapers. For all the critics who claim youngsters don’t read , visit a saloon , you will know what and how much we read. The saloon had multi lingual newspapers and Magazines that can put Higgin Bothams to shame. Suddenly a boy crawls amidst the crowd and says , SIR hALF an hour .
So now I know , whats the mission start time. So let me prepare for the war. I stand and stare the youngsters , some chatting with their beloved , excitedly telling her about the new hair cut they going t have , probably the last time he will speak to her , as a new haircut is risky proposition…Some discussing work , actually its fun to discuss work on weekends , you think about it on an altogether perspective. Wonder what happens on Monday morning,…..Some Studs showing off their new wheels , wonder to whom ? But it all happens in there in the small cul de sac . I was no different , wearing a pajama, and a tee I was a disgrace , as I thought it s a saloon , but could also see Tommy hilfigers , Lee hitting the saloon. Now I realize its not Hair cut anymore .Its Trend. Vision 2020 revisited.
It would have been 20 mins odd , and I was half way through another piece of article on Recession , and I get a call . Mera Number aa gaya. Ok the chair was grumpy , but still better than the sack back home. And it felt like a throne , as I waited for 20 mins and Vision 2020 , bundle of them staring at the image of me in the mirror. POWER OF THE SEAT. The same feeling our Beloved leaders would have got when they broke into Rashtrapathi Bhavan.
Man I was treated to fresh water spray on my desert like scorched hair..I looked at the guy , He had an admirable hair style done , cleanly shaven , and good hygiene. Made me happy . Work ethics ? you call it whatever .
Hmm two things were constantly on my mind. In fact three things . First Calvin and his philosophy on men with knife …
Second – Recession
Third – My future with my girl . Man she loved my hair . Probably she loved me only because of it. But The guy was not bothered about the first or the third.

But yes Recession , he was keen on . As he was about to treat me for one Recession of sorts. He asked me how would I like my hair style. I said keep it medium , keep the sidelocks on , make it look simpler but make sure not much hair is lost.
He smiled . CALVIN CAME ….I couldn’t figure what the smile is about. Is it because he cared damn about what I wanted , Man he had the knife . Or he understood his customer . Work centric executive ? Really don’t know . But there are times your whole life is dependent on someone else. And it was one of those moments.

He started . I knew He liked conversation. I heard him speak to the previous kid as well. Kid was scared at the end , as he was quizzed on mathematics .Poor kid , hair cut and mathematics?? He needs a Vacation for himself …
He started with me as well . Working ? He asked …Hmmm I was too scared to move my head and made sure my mouth was the only part moving . CALVIN is responsible for this Paralysis. I said yes . He asked IT ? I said no ….he said then you wont be making money …
Man this was the catch point …IT makes money and rest of the world are thumbsuckers . Gyaan from a saloon guy. One moment he was scared if I could even afford him. But then he went on. IT guys make money , they go abroad , they buy there , they come here they buy here. And then they keep buying but are still poor and default loans .
Man I was amused by the little knowledge he was talking . But two seconds the fourth thing came to my mind , the article on recession, IT GUYS default Bank loans., Hahah He has read it , More knowledgeable than me . I asked him why , does he have idea. And there was the beginning of a new era.

“You cannot have two scissors and one bald head “

Man this statement is all set to win Noble prize for Economics. Paul Frieberg of the world make a note of this . This is not a macro economic theory. But a simple theory says , when you are bald , buy a cap and not a scissor for the hair to grow and cut.
Hahahaha Fantastic , I was amused by the sheer brilliance of the liner . It said it all . And he guessed me right . I had no money to buy scissors and he was driving me bald. But too late to realize . The damage was done.

I came unscathed from the war , but the battle was lost . My hair stood all over the place , the same way my bean bag takes shape I mean does not take shape . OH MY GOD ..I Yelled . He was showing me a mirror for me look at the lost of field in the backside , Man but the front was so horrible to go on reverse gear.
I yelled , I shouted what on earth was this ? Recession effect ? And he calmly said , sorry sir , But I made sure you don’t have to spend on a scissor for 2 months.

Erked I was ..Was that a guess that I was bankrupt with the recession ? Or was he an investment banker who lost his job , in the turmoil who is advising me to save a penny. Or is It because , I was not from IT… God knows if he knows . But Calvin was still there . Didn’t have guts to quarrel . Didn’t have the right hair style to stand and quarrel. I asked how much he said Rs 40. I gave him and started my walk back thinking of the post break off with my girl ,the booze and bar I would visit .But it realy gave me a good lesson on much talked about recession

The recession is In your head and on your head …Simple theory …You always end up paying for something you lose ( I lost my hair , probably my girl and paid Rs 40)..
I end up paying for ice cream to make way for a fight with my girl ( its assumed I lost the fight )
I end up paying on myself and not on my mind….

Time is spent on buying scissors when the need is actually a visit to a Docs like Salman. Need gone , Recession is all a game, You play it and lose it. You don’t play it you lose.

With that in mind , and saving 80rs for next two months , I walk back . My phone rings ……Honey where have u been??

….I answer Hair cut …The line is cut ….

Agony of the Violin

2008-10-26T03:28:00.000-07:00

Agony of a violin:
Strrrrrr , a cranky sound welcomes me to the long unihabited land of music and melody. the sound of sound chord which has lost all its grease , oiling, and enthusiasm. It fails to bulge for me to adjust the pitch, One more attempt with my hard to recognize muscles pulling the strings out.of my body...naaaah wont wrk.
I keep the beautiful artwork body, the tanned brown with black sensous border, that is as admirable as to watch as Leonardo Da vinci would have imagined Mona Lisa.
I feel the weight only when the Violin is down in its small home. The weight that is suddenly filling my whole body from my toe to the redundant brain is hard to explain and I realize it is a combat that I have to fight. The battle , that the violin ,with its splendourous look and demigod status throws on me . I paralyze. I lose the battle even before I ready myself for it.
Not long ago were we friends, friends where I was the soul and it was the soul within. Yeh I am speaking about a passion that lived as a fire within me . THE VIOLIN. Life was dominanated with so much of inifinity and emotions and the only way to make way for them to be expressed was to be with my friend. It was more than a friend as I said it was a "SOul Within". The unexplained mysteries of my sadness and unexpressed happiness was never failed to be understood by the soul.Althought it was only 4 strings strong , with four keys , and a bridge that was like a connectivity for me and my soul within, It was as strong as 4 gods idling time in each of the strings. hmmm Yeh Inspiration is the adjective I choose here to mention my experience and my long relationship of 17 years with my Violin..
But the reality , Nothing exists any more. It seems like a wooden piece , forget a godliness.
WHere did it go wrong ? Where did I Screw up? WHen Did I let you down ?
8 mts ago , luck showered on me and made me an offer that anyone can hardly resist. It is the role of being part of the script for a play called L I F E where I play a role of a Winning character with a sound enthusiasm and energy , Right now am playing the character of winner like an oxymoron , with a sound enthusiasm, and a deaf energy.
Job , yeh job. WHo wouldn't want it ? Everyone does. Everyone wants to be an actor . I was one tooo. Days passed I paid no attention to my friend who was lonely in a house that could host a greek empire. Weeks passed the loneliness went away and then came in jealousy . Months passed when jealousy became the end.
Right now the piece of wood has no emotions. It is a wood , not an art just because its own soul was nowhere to be seen . It was tired and weak.Weak of having hopes that soul would return. Weak in wishing the soul the best. It needed a friend but all it got is an unjust, unfaithful treatment. All it got as friends was the pack of dust that covered its splendorous envious gold body, The soul failed.
Strrrrrrrrrrrrr.......But still the sound was like that of an emotion of a genie which was freed after decades.The aggressive happiness, the sound of the silence , autumn in a grave. The chords still matched for a parochial second. THe chords of two souls waiting to be freed. Two souls who were lost , one in their own loneliness , one in the pursuit of a fake oscar winning role in a play called life. Two souls whose love was like divine eternity and the two souls whose distance right now might be a 10 cms far and 100000 light years away.
Corporate gave me a good lesson. I won accolades, I won friends. I won rivals , I won envy , I won prode. At what cost ? I lost my soul , I lost my hunger , I lost my wisdom, I lost a friend. I lost myself. My soul was crying.....
It had nothing to lose. It was a piece of wood, even a wood actually feeding termites and contributing to a social cause. But it was not a piece of wood.
It was me., I was the god damn wood.
I am a wood with no soul with no life. Music was extinct .Melody went dumb. All there was in the wood was a sound of breath. But the weight was coming down. It was as if the souls have crossed the distance of 100000light years to be together again. But the soul still is in grief. It will take time to connect chords and adjust pitch. The Bow is the mediator. The bow with all soggy hairs like an old man was the mediator.
With sense of conviction and belief that after all I have to face the music that my own soul has to offer me. THe wood picks up the art.
The slave picks the master,
The burdenend picks the grieved.

I know we can make it again. Give me a chance. The wood spoke ....strrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr , there was the sound again .......