Story of my life

The Perfect Handshake

2011-12-16T18:40:00.001+05:30

I don’t like handshakes.

There! I said it. I don’t like them.

To start with I have never been able to master this simple mode of modern greetings used by the mankind. But more importantly there is always this constant concern on my mind, about the places that hand has been before it was forced into my palms.

We Indians love to take our hands to places. I will stop there and not elaborate further. But I have this little paranoia of being in the same places indirectly when I shake hands with another gentleman.

I don’t mind shaking hands with the fairer class, as it is my assumptions that they are more concerned about personal hygiene than the class I belong to. This is my part of mistrust and I can’t help it.

The second (or rather the first) issue is I don’t know what makes a perfect handshake. Should the grip be firm or loose, hands should be vertical or horizontal, shall I use both my hands, what is the ideal duration for which we should hold our hands (without being branded gayish), shall I lean forward or stand straight, who should initiate the handshake are some of the numerous questions that starts plaguing my mind as soon as I see a situation where I might have to shake hands with the other person.

Who should initiate?

I have no problems in initiating the handshake, but what if other person does not respond. There is a small but real chance of that happening. Does the “Perfect Handshake Manual by the Ministry of Hands” say something about it?

The firmness of the grip is another concern that bothers me very much. I was asked to shake hands time and again because my boss didn’t think my grip was firm enough. How much I wanted to tell him, that I just did not want to hurt him. After all he represents our country in one of the sports. But finally I mastered the technique, only to be confused the next time.

It was a sort of uneasy whine when I used the same firm grip on one of my female colleagues. So here was my lesson, never use the same grip for everyone.

I admit it. I am the king of the “handshake goof-ups” and if there was ever a record book to maintain the same, I will win the crown hands-down.

While cant we simply abolish this germ-ridden tradition and replace it with our simple Hindustani Namaste is difficult for me to understand. You don’t have to worry about the grip, duration, who initiates it, and other such mundane details. And for a change I might be able to abdicate my throne.

Jindal Diary: Bilaspur to New Delhi

2011-12-07T15:37:00.001+05:30

Why do they have a board saying “Foot Over Bridge” on the Foot Over Bridge itself? As if I was somehow going to miss the tiny bridge with stairs and wonder how to cross to the next platform. Or worse still, a person comes to the FOB and realizes “Oh my God! How do I use this thing, I don’t even know what to call it!” What would have made sense is a board placed some distance prior to the FOB telling the person to expect a FOB so that he does rams into the tiny FOB.

Have you ever faced a problem because of abundance of facilities? It so happened, that to catch a connecting train I had to wait on the platform for nearly 6 hours. The platform where I was supposed to wait had in fact too many facilities available for my comfort? Yes! You heard me right, the station and platforms are so well equipped that it is creating a nuisance for you. The intellectuals in you might argue, why I didn’t use the waiting room.

I have a basic problem with the waiting rooms. Somehow I don’t like the look and feel of waiting rooms. I hate waiting. And waiting rooms are especially made for waiting. So as I enter a waiting hall, it reminds me that I am waiting for something. It does not suit me. Hence I prefer to choose a quite little corner on a platform, sit there. Once seated properly I either watch some series or complete that novel I was reading last time.

Now in this particular platform, I went from end to end and there were lots of corners with very little commutation of people. There was one little problem though!

The platform has so many appropriately distanced loud speakers, that it was impossible for me, to find a place where I won’t be hearing the constant announcements of coming trains. Apart from the sound, it irritated me as it sort of teased me, “look buddy, here comes the next train, when is yours coming?”

I will cross one speaker and start moving away from it, feeling really happy as the sound will start diminishing and then suddenly I would enter into the zone of the next speaker. It was really difficult.

Talk of extremes and I have it all. During one of my journeys I travelled a whole 6 hours standing on one foot in the general compartment that was so cramped that even a Raju Shrivastav joke won’t do justice to it. And here I am, sitting in a 3^rd AC coach, occupying one seat and having reservation for two seats.

Haha! Twists of life, they amaze me. Some might ask why I book two seats if I was travelling alone. Well the scene is that it was not always like this. You make plans with someone and they agree upon it, you get the tickets booked only to face despair and disappointment.

Sitting in front of me are two Punjs aunties. Now why do I hate (don’t like) people who give away their ethnicity just by the way they dress. I have nothing against Punjs. Even it was two Marwari, a sect to where I belong; I would not have liked it. To top it all they are talking in the regional language. Now I realize that I was living in a myth. I was under the impression that I like Punjabi language but that was Gurdas Mann playing tricks with me.

The parts of India I know

2011-11-27T19:56:00.000+05:30

I was watching the movie “Shor in the city” along with my roommate. For those of all who have not watched the movie, rent a DVD right now and watch the movie.

There are 2-3 storylines in the movie. In one particular story an NRI wants to set up a small business in India. He comes back to Mumbai and opens up an office, when some thugs show up and demand protection money from the person.

The room-mate: I can’t understand why the two people are harassing this NRI dude.

On explaining him that they are asking for the protection money, he is not convinced.

I was a bit surprised, as I can totally relate to this issue. I don’t know about the rest of ‘Shining India’, but the parts of India where I come from this kind of demand is not unheard of. It is not that uncommon as well. Only unlike the movie, the people demanding this kind of money live in huge mansions, with strong political connection having their own rivalry to take care of.

Eventually I want to settle back in my hometown with some kind of a business model suited to the place. And I am mentally prepared to shell the protection money. To be honest, before watching the movie, I never thought that these kinds of thing are some rarity. This is how the India I know works. And it will be very long before the force of Anna can do anything about it.

As for my friend, I guess, he was unable to relate to this part as he does not belong to a business family. Or maybe some other reason, that I don’t wish to analyze.

Jindal Diary: Jo dikhta hai wo hamesha sach nahi hota

2011-11-27T19:29:00.000+05:30

I would like to make two statements.

1. Am i not entitled some peace of mind? I will come back to this statement in a while.

2. Meanwhile, I just realized that my plant is BIG. And when I say, big, I mean really big.

So, today it so happened that ‘This Lazy A$$’ finally went to meet his supervisor. TLA$ calls up his supervisor.

Supervisor: Ok, second half mein milte hai hum log. Baithte hai ek sath fir.

TLA$: OK Sir! I will be there in the second half.

There is a small flaw here, but. What exactly does ‘second half’ mean? The second half is highly subjective. Do we divide the day into two equal halves at the two 12s? Or do we follow the company’s timeline and divide the day into pre lunch and post lunch period. The post lunch period will then become the second half.

The part of exact timing comes into the picture once we have made the extremely difficult decision of dividing the day in two halves. If someone is expecting me in the second half then shall I drop at his office at the dawn of second half? What if, I decide to meet him when the second half is coming to an end, say just 2 minutes before 12 midnight? Technically I will be meeting him in the second half and he can’t say that I am late. How can I be late? You asked me to meet in second half and here I am.

It is like the case when someone asks, “give me a call sometimes next week.” So am I eligible to call past 12 midnight on Saturday? What does it mean!

So I propose a motion to ban the usage of such ambiguous statements.

I learnt one more important lesson today.

Jo diktha hai wo hamesha sach nahi hota.

04: 00 pm: To TLA$ chal pade apne Manager se milne. Hostel se nikal ke main road per aaye to samne dikhne laga Blast Furnance-2 or BF2. There was the option of calling a cab from garage, but why bother! BF2 to nazro ke saamne hai.

04:10 pm: TLA$ is still walking and yes BF2 is visible and very near.

04:25 pm: BF2 is still visible and now the board inviting you to BF2 is also visible. TLA$ is still walking.

04:40 pm: TLA$ reaches BF2 office, only to realize his manager has gone to some audit meeting and in all probability won’t be coming back to the office.

Awww! That was the exact expression on TLA$’s face.

It is now the time to discuss the second statement. Yaar, ye India chup chap ek match kyu nahi jeet sakti.

Bhai 7 balls, 4 runs. This is the age of twenty-20 cricket. Matches are won from much more precarious situations. And they manage to lose this one. A loss, it is for me, not a draw. And I am very unhappy.

My encounter with the Big Boss

2011-11-22T02:55:00.000+05:30

Yes! I admit it.

I was eagerly waiting for the Big Boss episode to be aired on November 21, 2011. And for obvious reasons, I would say. I am not a fan of reality shows, especially not of Big Boss. But then the producers pulled a gem of a trick and enticed even an audience like me to their show.

I checked the website about the timings and then waited eagerly for the clock to strike 22:30. I switched to the channel Colors.

To my dismay I had to endure the chitter-chatter of contestants, whom I hardly recognized. I knew the name of some of the contestants but it was hard to put a name to the faces. I have been reading about certain Miss Pooja Mishra and her antics. But I could find her in the crowd. The chats were more annoying because I did not know about the history of some of the fights and the kind of equations people share with each other. But then I thought in my mind that this was all a passing drama to the main attraction.

And suddenly the music started playing 'Chalia, Chalia, Chalia' song from Tashan. I had already read in the news about the style of her entry, so I knew that was it. Being isolated from the whole world can really do funny stuff to people, even to celebrities. So here they were watching the Palki carrying our star as if this is the first time they are seeing something like this.

It reminded me of my childhood days. Our home was situated near a railway crossing. Remember those were the days of FB-negative, iPad-negative and mostly electricity-negative. So every time a train passed from the tracks, we would run near the track and line up just to watch the train pass.

Haha! I am not making this up. It is the truth.

Ok, cut back to the Big Boss house.

Now I am really thinking about the male contestants here. Do they recognize her or feign ignorance about her. Obviously they must know her. But quite simply they have a girlfriend or a wife to return to. And if they recognize her then back home they will have explaining to do.

So our boys did the smart thing. As soon as she stepped out of the ‘Palki’ carrying her, all three male contestants went into a corner and started discussing something. So the fort was left open to the female contestants. Now I am not sure how many of them actually knew her. From the look on their faces, nobody recognized her. Obviously how can you recognize her by looking at her face! If you get, what I mean to say.. :P

One female contestant: Who are you? (obviously in a polite manner)

Our guest of Honor: I am Sunny Leonne.

This was the time I came to know that her second name is pronounced as Leo+ nay.

Another female contestant: What do you do?

SL: (slightly taken aback)- actor

Ah! Why would you do that? I thought. I accept you the way you are. And this is the answer you came out with.

Meanwhile SL: (continuing)- I do modelling and stuff...

Me: (thinking) what are the brands that she can endorse? Can’t think of any right now.

She is taken inside. We are shown another footage with some time already passed.

Another female contestant: (without taking her eyes of SL's face and trying really hard to recognize her) I have seen you somewhere. Where have I seen you? Or, rather where should have I seen you?

SL: (seriously produces a gem of an answer)- Google

Oh! I like you ingenuity. Now that is one answer that is totally true. You just have to key in the right keywords. :D

Pooja Bedi: (yes, I do recognize her. She is the bitch who ditched Aamir Khan and chose Deepak Tijoriwala)- So why did they chose you. I mean, how did they contact you?

SL: maybe, they have seen me on internet.

Again, a classic answer! Can’t deny it!

Till evening, it was all normal and it was actually refreshing to see her in Indian attire. As for the next episode, well I am not too excited for that. This was it for me. I just wanted to see how she will behave fully clothed in an Indian setup. And I must admit that I was not at all disappointed.

My airtel customer care story

2011-11-17T22:48:00.003+05:30

November 17, 2011 (Time 6:30 pm)

Scene 1: My friend comes into my room and says that he can’t connect to my phone. I check my phone, and find that the postpaid sim I am using is displaying a “Invalid Sim” message where it previously said “airtel”.

Act 1: I take my friend’s post paid airtel connection and dial 121- the customer care number.

Irritating Computer Voice (ICV): For Hindi press 1, for Chattisgarhi press 2, for English press 3.

I press 3. So far so good!

ICV: Please enter your ten digit mobile number.

I enter my mobile number.

The computerized voice says, “You have exceeded your input limit, we are connecting you to our Customer care rep (CCR)”.

What the hell! It was you who asked me to enter the 10 digit mobile number. But I don’t care because they are connecting me to the CCR.

CCR: Namaskar, mera naam Lokesh hai

Me: (slightly surprised on the Hindi introduction as I chose option ‘3’ for English).

Well, I don’t have any problem with Hindi conversation, but why the hell then provide the option to choose the language at the first place, if it does not matter to airtel.

Me: Mera naam so and so hai aur mera number hai ......

After these customary introductions I tell him my problem that my postpaid sim is not working. It stopped working suddenly without any warning.

CCR: Sir, aap hamare bahumulya customer h (or something similar shit)... aapke number se lag rha hai ki ye ek postpaid number hai.

Me: (thinking in my head) - Thank you, Einstein for reminding me.

Yes, says me.

CCR:Sir, again that random shit about me being their bahumulya customer... hum yeha per aapki koi madad nhi kar payenge. This is the prepaid CC. Please contact our post paid CC centre.

Me: !!!

Now I realize language option should have been least of my concern. These geniuses have the intelligence to separate pre-paid from post-paid CC. But not the intelligence to direct me to post paid CC when I am calling from a post paid number.

Well I just wanted my number to be activated, so I told him that I am calling from a post paid number then why the hell is my call connecting to a pre paid CC.

He again says the random shit about me being Bahumulya Customer and airtel being sorry for the inconvenience. None of which really matters to me really.

He provides me the number to post paid customer care- 9893012345. He informs me that it is again a toll free number like 121. He also takes the liberty to inform me that any call made at 121 will be redirected to the pre-paid CCR.

Act2: I disconnect the call, and dial 9893012345.

Well, well, well! What do we have here?

The computerized voice informs me in Chattisgarhi language: The number you have dialled does not exist. Please check the number and dial again.

Me: WTF! Your moronic lady behind that recorded computer voice. Do you realize it is your CCR that gave me that number?

I have to get my number activated, I realized. So again I decide to dial 121.

ICV: For Hindi press 1, for Chattisgarhi press 2, for English press 3

I press ‘3’, realizing the futility of the operation. But language is really not my concern at the moment.

The irritating Computer Voice (ICV): You have not chosen any option, please choose your option or wait for us to repeat.

Me: (checks on the screen if I pressed the option or not. Then I thought maybe the Blackberry costing nearly 21k might be malfunctioning and this moronic ICV is right.)

I again press 3.

ICV: You have not chosen any option, please choose your option or wait for us to repeat.

I again press 3.

ICV: (after some moments) - For Hindi press 1, for Chattisgarhi press 2, for English press 3

I again curse the useless 21k BB and press 3.

ICV: You have not chosen any option; please press your 10 digit mobile number.

Me: (thinking, what a useless handset, entered the 10 digit mobile number)

ICV: Thank you for calling Airtel, some random shit about me being important to Airtel.

Call Disconnects!!

Me: What just happened?

Act 4: I again call 121, expecting a request to choose the language option.

I could not have been more wrong.

ICV: Thank you for calling Airtel, some random shit about me being important to Airtel.

Call Disconnects!!

Me: What! Please don’t take away the fun of choosing a language option from me. I really like to pass my time by calling the moronic Airtel CC.

Act 5: I Dial 121, expecting anything now.

I was expecting something new this time. Again I could not have been more wrong.

ICV: Thank you for calling Airtel, some random shit about me being important to Airtel.

Call Disconnects!!

Act 6: repeat of Act 5. Only this time I was ready to be surprised.

Act 7: Repeat of Act 6 and Act 5.

Act n: Still trying to connect

Now I realize. What a moron I am. Calling CCR is for illiterate fools who don’t know to use the internet. The internet is all very powerful.

So I enter www.airtel.in

Click on the contact tab.

What do I find here!

Incase you are calling from airtel mobile, please contact us on 121.

Me: ____________________________________________ (it is the state of my mind right now)

I am not ready to give up yet now.

I turn to twitter. Search for Airtel and find the airtel official twitter page. There I see some tweets from airtel apologizing to some of its customer for the inconvenience and informing them of the next plan of action.

I feel happy. Oh! So the Airtel guys respond on twitter.

I send two tweets to them about my situation.

Not to take things lying down. I switch to FB. Find Airtel page.

There were so many unhappy customers on this page, I really felt sorry for Airtel and thought against saying anything on this page.

...

Instead of waiting I thought of writing this blog

For general information purpose, my sim is still not working. As for the grammar and sentence formation, please excuse me. As the things that come straight out of the heart don’t follow the boundaries set by the rules of grammar. What’s important are my emotions and my non functional Sim.

Airtel, please help me.

And as I was about to post this blog, I get a tweet from Airtel that says, “Hi, Our apologies for the unpleasant experience.please allow us some time to arrange a call back for you.Thanks”

I replied: “how will you call back, u didnt ask for my number!!”

I again got a tweet from Airtel this time asking me to DM (direct message) my contact details. For twitter illiterate people DM is sending a private message that will be visible to only the intended recipients as opposed to the general tweet.

Again a tweet from Airtel: “Thanks for sharing ur contact details, will arrange a call back for u.”

Well so far I am satisfied, apart from my non-functioning Sim card.

In the meanwhile if my issue is resolved I will get blog it back.

Novermber 18, 2011 (3:30 pm)
Still waiting for Airtel to call me back. Meanwhile I have sent another twitter to twitter reminding them of their commitment.

November 18, 2011 (6:00 pm)
I have mixed feelings. Got a call from Airtel, so I am happy, but there is some problem with my Sim card from my end. So I am unhappy.
But atleast I was able to contact Airtel CCR and ask about my problems. Nothing beat that feeling... :D

My crossroad

2011-11-04T00:38:00.001+05:30

Everybody faces a cross road. It is like I have reached my own.

I don’t know if the whole world conspiring to get you your wish is true or not, but it seems like I am in the middle of one such conspiracy by the universe.

When I was a child my worst nightmare was following the lifestyle of my parents or my sister or everybody around me. It is another matter that at that point of time I thought I will make much more money than all of them and hence my life would be different.

It seems like I was right about one thing but not the other. I still fear treading the same lifestyle and yet here I am, doing exactly everything in the same manner albeit in a better environment. I am making a little more money but that is not calming me.But it is not through money I want to make my life different but it is by following my passion. My dream of seeing the whole world.

I am slowly realizing that it is not money that I want but financial security is what I am looking for. Not for my family not for my kids (yet to be born) or for my future married life. I just want some financial security so that I can follow my passion.

Each day in the job is getting more and more routine. To be honest, there is nothing wrong in the job profile, nothing wrong with the organization I am working for. The company is taking really good care of me. It is just that it is forcing me to become another brick in the wall.

What if this is the only life I have got, what if my karma does not allow me to be reborn as a human being again. Will I rue the change that I have missed? There is so much to see and so much to do and I am wasting my time here. It is sounding like another maniacal blabber to me, but this time I am not going to give up. I am actually looking for options. I am not looking for options to get a better job, for me at this point of time every job is the same. Every job is taking me a day away from my true reckoning.

I regret the days I wasted pursuing education. Why did I have to join a job at all? Why couldn’t the people around me motivate enough and give me courage to leave everything and give the things I love a try atleast once.

Every passing moment I am making the decision. Should I leave the job, should I leave everyone I know behind? Because they are the one tying me down, not with their emotional love or bonding, I am too mature to get tied down by it. But with their idiotic logic that I have to earn some money, pay off my loan, fulfil their dreams, build a house one can live in, buy a car, get married, etc. But in all these don’t I get the right to become selfish?

Some might laugh at the idea but I feel that the places around the world are waiting for me. They are calling for me. And in all these I don’t want to take a companion with me. It will perhaps spoil the relationship of the places with me.

Why can’t I fly like Christopher McCandless?

Another snoring Debacle

2011-10-31T17:47:00.000+05:30

I was returning from somewhere, I don’t remember exactly. I was going somewhere; that also I don’t remember exactly.

I was arranging my berth, and was pretty surprised when at the next station two IIM Indore guys from my batch boarded the train. It was a nice surprise as I thought at least I won’t get bore for the remaining journey. I got down the train to get some water.

The tap was at a little distance from my coach, near the rear end of the train. I was filling the bottle when I turned around to see the train leaving. I rushed towards the train but it suddenly started racing away.

I thought this can’t be happening to me in reality!

I have dreamt this very dream a number of times. In my dreams I am never able to catch the train. But then I conjured up my thoughts and realized it is “reality” not dreams and I must catch the train. So I started running really hard. There was one weird kind of coach, unseen before. I thought, how it matters, as long as I am able to catch the train.

I grabbed the grill attached to the coach and boarded the coach. To my surprise, the whole coach was filled with people from IIM Indore. I knew their faces only and did not know anyone personally so I stood in a corner. To my utter surprise the train entered the IIM Indore campus and suddenly it turned into a bus.

This was the point I realized (and I hope you ‘my readers’, also realize)”

S*** man! It is another of those dreams where I get down the train to get something and am unable to catch the speeding away train.

Actually there were a number of pointers in my dream, to point out that it was a dream. First of all I never drink tap water from stations. Second, when I could not remember the origin and destination stations of my journey. And lastly when I felt happy on seeing two guys from IIM Indore, none of whom I really liked.

And when I wake up, guess where I am? Travelling in a sleeper coach of a train, heading to god knows where!

That SoB

I am sleeping peacefully, and this time it is real. This is the point where I am woken up by a loud snoring noise.

All those who know me, will be happy to know that this Goliath (my sleep) has finally found its David (snoring noise). Someone who can sleep through earthquakes and volcanic eruptions can’t stand the snoring noise.

So here I was!

First I tried to ignore it, then I laughed at it, then finally I decided to fight it. By the time I made this decision it has already been an hour of my ordeal. I remembered from somewhere that if you poke a snoring person, he will change his sleeping position, which will stop the snoring noise.

So I decided to give it a try. I poked the snoring bastard’s hand. Nothing happened. I again thought of giving it a try and poked again. Suddenly the Snoring old bastard (SoB) wakes up and sits up.

Now whoever told me that poking a snoring person solves the problem did not tell me what to do when the person wakes up due to your poking. So I was on my own.

SoB: (in total bewilderment) !!!!

Me: (trying to make the most pleasant face, which I later realized is not that pleasant at all) Uncle, aapke kharraton (snoring) se so nahi paa rha hoon.

I was expecting a bit apologetic tone from that SoB.

SoB: To kaa karein, baithe rahe (in a really famous tone, associated with the greatest state of this country)

His tone really charged me up now. At first place, I could not sleep for the past one hour due to that SoB, and the least I expected was some empathy. Instead came the pat reply as if he was committing some favour to the humanity by snoring like a giant pig.

Me: karna kya hai!!? Kharatein mat lo...

SoB: Kharatein nahi le, aise hi nahi le kya jee..bataiye kya karein (by this time he was again readying himself to go to sleep).

Me: Ilaaz karwa lijiye aur kya...

SoB: kahan hota hai ilaaz bataiye to jara?

Me: subah bata dunga (and I went back to sleep)

But not before I tied my handkerchief around my ears.

To be honest, I don’t care how you stop your snoring, Go and slit your throat, cut open your nose or stop breathing. I really don’t care. What I do care about is, please don’t snore in railway coaches.

KBC's contestants

2011-10-13T17:09:00.000+05:30

Is it just me or everybody is noticing the same pattern?

Every person who is coming to KBC is the most grief-stricken person in the world. Of course, the term ‘the most’ is used in an emphasizing tone. As not everyone can fall into the superlative degree category, and some will be lesser grief stricken than the others. (Ah! Again my intelligence)

Take this example: “I am very happy after winning so and so amount. Now I can get my sister married, build a house, get my father operated, relieve my neighbour of his duties of f***ing my own wife, bite my cat and eat my dog.”

Oh, come on! Have you heard of an actor called Mithun Da and his genre of movies? Even his characters are happier than you, until he drags villains out of their dens situated near the station and kills them in the airport.

I only watched the first season of KBC during the good old days, when KBC was only about sheer intelligence and money. I have not seen the intervening seasons so I can’t comment on those. This season has another dimension –emotions.

As if Ekta Kapoor was not performing her duties. First I thought that it is the feature of the first episode only. Since it was aired on Indian Independence Day (August 15) and the program wants to salute some really brave Indians. We were shown a montage of the struggle all the contestants have endured to sustain their life and reach the platform of KBC. Still in some of the stories I couldn’t find anything heart whelming. Fearing that I am too insensitive, I cursed myself and tried to empathise with the non-existent struggles of most of the people.

Then another episode aired the next day, and then another, and then another. And guess what! I was right the first time round.

But all this got me thinking. Are the struggle stories of all the famous people fake? Now I would like to think so.

Take for instance, our dear Kapil Sibbal. He once came to Mr. Alter’s college to give a speech. (I hope you people have not forgotten Dear Mr. Alter)

Kapil Sibbal: I come from a really humble upbringing, with very little means and paucity of resources.

The truth: His father was a Barrister during the British Raj.

And when I think of it, I am pretty sure that Richard Branson is not at all dyslexic and he made it up to garner some sympathy for his achievements.

Jindal Diary- Random rant of a restless rider

2011-10-13T16:38:00.001+05:30

Thursday, being middle of the week should be a busy day for me. But when I woke up this morning I had the same goddamn question to answer.

Now what!

The past few days have been the same for me. Not to know what to do next, So I plan impromptu. It is another matter than even long-term planning would yield the same result. Well so I freshened up, missed the breakfast (as always) and then the unending quest.

Should I or shouldn’t I go to office. In the end it was decided.

I am surfing through the channels. Nothing interesting is coming up. Out of desperation I try watching some random ‘Ekta Kapoor' style shit. I thought that maybe I have grown so bored of the nit picks of life that I might enjoy them. Turns out, it was not meant to be. I still can’t take this shit for more than 30 seconds.

So next I turn to my saviour for the past 3 months- MTV and its “Lava Break-free music from 8 am to 12 pm.” The paradox here is that they are taking a break in the program to tell that the program is break-free. Doesn’t the break itself somehow disown the claim of the break? Oh God! I am fed up of my intelligence. Being a born genius has also its disadvantages. I am realizing in these difficult hours.

To move back to the point, I don’t really enjoy the show anymore. It has the same songs that I have been hearing for the past 3 decades (or so long it seems) running over and over again. What fixation does the MTV have with the movie Speedy Singhs? It was a boring; utterly crap movie and that too about Sardars. Like the world really doesn’t already know about them. And to top it all the movie comes up with a really innovative topic of Sardars in Canada.

Wah, wah! Kya baat hai. I salute their ingenuity.

Hmm!

Aur Dil mein tha bas ek sawal!

“Have I made it large?”

Arey nahi bhai ye nahi tha original sawal. Asli sawal hai ki aaj kya karein mere yaar?

So here I am, to run away from my boredom I have come to office.

I like to think of the process as that of nation building or as they say, ‘Bharat Nirman’. So here I am googling topics on how to survive a lazy Sunday (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday)

Bye the way the term 'rider' in the heading of the blog has nothing to do with my intelligence. I am not trying to imply any deeper meaning or hidden philosophies of my life. So just move on and read it just like that. I have grown too lazy to even think of a suitable heading and have scribbled the first word that came to my mind.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening ~ Robert Frost

2011-10-12T13:15:00.000+05:30

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Why does it feel like these lines are speaking to me! It feels like the story of my life. How can some one be so simple yet so subtle...

Jindal Diary- Some random incidents

2011-10-04T12:09:00.000+05:30

JPL is organizing a 5-day event, from October 2, 2011 to October 6, 2011 on the eve of Durga Puja. It is really great for people like me, who belong to the eastern part of India and for whom DP is a really big affair. In the school days, I would look forward to DP holidays as it will mean the onset of a number of festivals including, Diwali, Govardhan Puja, Bhai Duj and finally culminating in Chath.

The mega-festival week as it is called in JPL has one event or the other every day. Last night it was Garbha performance by a group of students whose lead is an attractive girl from IIT Delhi. Supposedly she was also a participant in ‘Voice of India’. Now that is something I really admire- following your passion.

But the next day some really funny conversation happened. Actually it can be thought provoking for someone, depending upon how much intellectually challenged they are. As I belong to the highest breed so it was only funny for me and nothing else. Again the incident involved our own Alter. Mr. Alter also works with the CSR department of the company apart from threatening government employees like railway TT and GRP. The CSR team has another employee called Mr. Dhakkan. A mention of his qualification is really necessary here for the argument that follows. Mr. Dhakkan is some Masters in some degree and he is planning to pursue an MBA.

Dhakkan to Alter: Arey Sir, kal ka Grabha program dekhe bada maja aaya

Alter: arey haan, maine bhi suna, but I was not able to go, had some work (actually lazing around was his work)

Dhakkan: aur bahar se nachne wali ladkiya bhi bulayi thi company ne

Alter: ya, I know. Actually they are from IIT Delhi

D (slightly puzzled): IIT! Kya keh rhe hai sir, IIT walo ko ye sab karne ki kya jarurat hai?

A: %%%&&&$$$****@@ !!! ??? (Speechless and totally confused as to how to respond)

D: sir wo nachne wali kyu ban gyi, kya hua unhe.

A: (regaining some of his sanity), arey wo nachne wali nahi hai, they perform on stage, because it is her... (He thought of mentioning the word ‘passion’ but then decided it is best not to mention such useless terms in this highly inspirational talk)

D: Sir, job nahi lagi thi kya IIT se, so naach gaa ke paise kamane padte hai?

A: (losing his wits now)- arey Dhakkan jee, main to aapko padha likha samajhta tha, aapse aisi umeed nahi thi

D: (not to give away that easily, replies with a fairly straight face), Sir, humein bhi IIT walo se aisi umeed nahi thi...

--- END of DISCUSSION—

Actually how can you counter such well laid argument!

Incident No 2

It happened on that historic train trip from Raigarh to Ranchi. We are standing near the gate. The toilet is nearby and I observed that people coming out from one bathroom are going to the next bathroom slightly troubled. After a few moments I realized that the tank has no water.

Hahaha...!!! How are they managing...? (You know what I mean to say)

I saw a dude standing outside the bathroom. And as you Mr. Alter by now, he starts a conversation with him. The Dude is working in Chennai in textile industry and has come to Ranchi for his DP holidays. During conversation Dude reveals that he is waiting to use the restroom. Being a Good Samaritan, our Alter is, he informs the dude that the facility has no water. Alter then goes inside the boggy to arrange for some seat. In the meanwhile a bathroom gate opens and dude can’t control it enough, so he decides to use the facility anyways. I am still standing outside.

After a few moments, the gate opens, dude holding his trousers from falling down, says in a slightly irritated tone- “Paani aa to raha hai jee.”

And I thought, look at the charitable instinct of the dude, even in this hour of urgency he is thinking of the world around him. He comes out of his rest period to inform the world at large that the water has been filled in the tank.

Long live such unselfish souls.

RESPECT!

And I have become too emotional to write any further for now.

Why I miss my own love story

2011-09-30T17:36:00.001+05:30

I was reading the book – 2 States- by Chetan Bhagat. Really a nice read!

The good thing is that it captures the stereotypes of the North-South divide in a really funny manner, yet it never wavers away from the facts. Many a time I will be reading a certain piece of para and I realized, “arey bhai ye to mere saath bhi ho chukka hai.”

The Tam-Brahm dude I was talking to last week was behaving in the same manner as mentioned in this novel. Or the Punjabi Aunty I met last Sunday was exactly the same as the Bobby Aunty of the novel.

This post of mine is neither a review of the novel; neither is it a lecture on perfect Indian behaviour. The simple fact is; after reading this novel, I am starting to miss my own love story.

Don’t be startled! First hear my side of the story.

“Yaar badi plain and simple bita di. Kabhie gharwalo ko koi tension hi nahi di...” :P

It would have been really nice, if I took a South Indian girl to my mother and said, “ye le maa teri hone wali bahu.”

Just imagining her next expression is giving me fits of laughter. And add to that my other relatives, my millions of nose-poking uncles and aunties and their zillions of offspring – who will henceforth be known as my cousins.

You might call me a sadist bastard; yes that is what I am. And I really don’t care about the snoot society. I enjoy the misery of people around me. And so does everybody else. Do you really believe that your friend care for you when he enquires about your recent breakup. Or your uncle and aunty really are worried for you when they console you during your period of unemployment. Feasting on other people misery has been the favourite past time of everyone. And I am pretty sure that jealousy was the first emotion humans experienced, much before love or hate. So yes I am a sadist bastard.

It all started with my cousin getting married to a non-Marwari girl. Nothing special about it or so I thought. Then suddenly I realized the growing concern of everyone around me to teach me about values, traditions, demerits of love marriage, problems of inter-caste relationships, etcetera, etcetera!

It didn’t help the matter that the idiot cousin has been the closest to what I call a friend since childhood. We practically discuss every small matter between us.

The scene became so comical that now only you have to say my name and a girl’s name in one complete sentence together. It was enough to get everyone charged up and come rushing to me.

You might think, “I would be pissed off at all this scepticism and mistrust.” On the contrary I was enjoying all this. To make the matter spicier I would add some random names to the discussion as if I spelt the name by mistake.

Aah! Those were the golden days.

“Per abhi kuch nahi hai naa yaar, gharwalo ko pareshan karne ko...”

That is why I thought, “how about an original tale instead of all the fake rumours.” And not just any tale, but a proper filmy one complete with the north-south divide. I am ready to throw in the rich-poor divide as well. But the problem is with my IIM salary, I am left neither rich nor poor. So I have to forgo this twist.

In all this thoughts I really pity my friends who had a love relationship and were married happily and effortlessly. Do you really know what you missed?

Yaar thoda struggle karte, ghar wale nahi mante, thoda tum unhe manate, thoda wo tumhe samjhate, is beech ladki ki shaadi kahi aur fix ho jati, tab to life mein twist aata.

Jindal Diary- Trip to Ranchi and Dhanbad

2011-09-28T16:35:00.000+05:30

After a long time I used Indian railways so extensively. Somehow I thought I won’t be able to do this kind of travel anymore. But as Sunny Deol said in his iconic movie JEET, “In haathon ne hathyaar sirf chode hai, chalana nahi bhule hai”, I guess the same applies to me as well.

I might have left the ticketless kind of travel but I have not forgotten the charm of travelling without any pre-planning.

Thankfully, I did not have to travel like this

Mr. Alter was going to his place – Ranchi, to meet his father. Just like that he asked whether I would like to join him to a trip to Ranchi. The day has been pretty tiring one with the workshop on “Goal setting”. (For a change I was organizing the workshop and not attending the workshop as a participant. More on this in a separate blog) But still I couldn’t resist the temptation to go out and explore a new city. I agreed and decided to call Mr. Dude and asked him whether he would like to join. He readily agreed.

The time was 8:00 pm and we had to leave by 8:30 pm. Dude will be picked on the way. We reached Raigarh station, took a general ticket and boarded the Sleeper coach of a train. As soon as the train left the station two Thulla came and enquired about our ticket. I usually get really scared of such scene and I was prepared to shell out some money to them. But what followed next is beyond my imagination.

Thulla no 1: (he later turned out to be an ex-military jawan) - “This is not a valid ticket. Pay the fine.”

He along with the other one first tries to get some money from us. In a few moments a heated argument ensued between the two Thulla and Mr. Alter.

By this time I had totally submitted myself to the leadership of Alter.

I don’t know how he did it or what he said. But after five minutes the senior of Thulla 1 was chatting with Alter in a slightly apologetic tone, as if the GRP personnel and the Ticket checker have committed some mistakes by asking us for our ticket. During the discussion only Alter had to do was to pronounce their names 2-3 times, throw in terms like Baroda house in New Delhi, honour, dignity and blah blah blah. I was there but if you ask me to repeat the process, I will go blank. It is only the genius of Alter and only he can do that.

Not with my polished MBA degree and rustic small town upbringing can I achieve this feat. What followed next was even more hysterical. After few moments Alter and the senior GRP were talking about their families, how GRP senior is not very happy with his future prospects, where his father resides currently, blah blah blah.

Is it really happening I was thinking? And in all these I don’t know what scared the TT but he was not ready to be in our vicinity for more than 15 seconds. As if by being in the presence of our existence, he will evaporate.

At the end of all, what does our Alter says, “This is why I like travelling without planning and reservation. Bada maza aata hai ye sab karne mein. Dekha kitna achcha time pass ho gaya.”

This was the time I decide “Bhai ye aadmi to ekdum ALTER hai.”

We reached Ranchi the next morning after changing one more train. In the next train as well a group of TT tried to attack us. But by this time I have grown confident of Alter’s leadership skills. And I was not to be proved wrong. The same fate followed this group as well. They left us without any money in their pocket.

After a day’s stay at Ranchi, I decided to visit my place – Dhanbad. I took Dude with me. There is no tourist place in Dhanbad, but there is something there that I guess no other place in the country can offer- fire coming out from the underground mines and can be seen from the cracks. Surprisingly people living in the vicinity are not bothered a bit about it.

It was time to bid goodbye to Dhanbad and back to Ranchi where we will meet Alter and take a train back to Raigarh. Alter had one more arrow in his armour to impress us.

Bhai khana bada shandar banata hai.

I thought, “ kash ladki hota to propose kar deta... J”

We took a train back to Rourkela, then to Jharsuguda, to Raigarh then a auto to Ghadi Chawk and finally a bus back to Tamnar- meri Karm Bhumi. At the end of all these I realize... well I realize nothing!

Every story does not need to have a morale! Aise hi time pass ke liye bhi to likh sakte hai naa story, yaar.

Till then I am waiting for my next trip.

Lost in Wilderness - Jindal Diary

2011-09-22T02:45:00.003+05:30

Time follows its own pace here

It has got its own reckoning

No bottles to empty here,

No cans to gauge the night remaining

Gone are the people around

And gone are the days

Lost in this wilderness - the feelings,

Misty like a haze

Is it a reality, or just the numbness of my effort?

Or is it just the life gone by, structured like a cohort

Thoughts have abandoned me

Thoughts!

For they never abandoned me before

Clearly it is something, something that I abhor

Is it something trivial or some kind of mental maze?

Is it something real or some kind of tricky cage?

Confused, I am!

For thoughts were my companion

Never had they showed any resistance

Never had they left me in a canyon

They are ONE purpose I don’t like to lose

Wild they may be, but they helped me cruise

Is it the travail of my destiny?

Or probably an insignificant mutiny

My rational brain looks for reasons

Reasons!

The tools of intelligentsia or the shield of defeated

Hard to fathom upon, the uncertainty is better not repeated

But reasons it is my friend, I have to find,

Not for the life that has passed by me,

But probably, maybe, the life not yet passed by me

In my predicament, as I pass down the rows of trees

It becomes hard to imagine

Whether it is the lane of reality or boulevard of my dreams

Travesty of a confused soul, parade of a clear mind

I am alone and it is not just me, we are alone

It is hard to imagine the difference, they seem like a clone

Whom to believe

The clichéd reality or the powdery illusion

What is dearer to me now?

Slowly it is becoming like dreams, you can’t stop dreams

And suddenly in dreams you are capable of everything

A committed dealing or just a casual fling

Then I realize, I might just being theatrical

Lost in this wilderness, I act whimsical

How can I be lost, when there is entire civilization

I cannot be gloomy, and I realize it is just my fixation

But again as I pass down the rows of trees

It becomes hard to imagine

Whether it is the lane of reality or boulevard of my dreams

Few awesome steps of my life

2011-04-20T03:37:00.004+05:30

I was thinking, chalo ye kaam bhi khatam!

These are not my steps, though!

What next from here? IIM walo se to degree le hi li. Actually it is diploma, but it does not sound good in a sentence.

Imagine a sad 70s movie scene:

Hero (that will be me here :D): Maa, aaj teri tapasya aur aashirwad rang laayi, tera beta MBA ka imtihan paas ho gya…

Until now the mother is like a dancing leprechaun at the end of a rainbow with a pot of gold. (I know the line does not make any sense. But I got this line from Internet and I had to make use of it, so I thought- Why not here?)

Actually until this part of the sentence the mother’s face is lighting like a 400-watt bulb.

Hero: (continues…) ye dekh mera diploma !

Suddenly there is darkness all around and a sound of loud slap.

Maa: c****ye, teri saari fees mein to 10 B.Sc., 20 B.Com 30 B.A. aur 100 Bihar University ki degreeya aa jati, aur tu laya sirf 'ek DIPLOMA'

Now again cut back to the 400 watt bulb phase:

Hero: (continues..) Maa ye dekh meri degree

Maa: Mere laal, aaj tune meri mamta ki laaj rakh li

Basically you got the point. So I continue with my monologue.

I never thought I would feel so elated on being a part of that monotonously long process with some really silly and useless steps. But here I was, beaming like a 2-year old child facing his first candy of life. When I think in retrospect, did I make the right choice by skipping my Engineering convocation? Aur wahan to puri degree mil rhi thi !

While in the current process there was a particular step where we had to bow down when the Chairman says “blah blah blah, some more blah blah blah... Ending with 'in words indeed' ”. Basically we had to ignore everything and care for “… in words indeed” and bow in unison at this very point. For this particular step, we (195 students, 1 PGP chair, 5 lazy PGP staff and a certain Mr. Malleri) practiced for exactly 47.67 times. A good idea but one that does not works.

Here are the few flaws in the process that are at the top of my mind right now. I am pretty sure there are many more.

What if chairman had a fight with his wife and he thinks of taking revenge on 195 innocent lives. So he repeats the phrase at the end of each sentence. Imagine the scene.
What if he is in a very good mood and he thinks of have some fun.
What if the Director himself turns out to be the chairman? Well for IIMI people I don’t need to explain anything more. For others read this… And please don't imagine anything at this point. Khayal to tumhare honge, aur lagni humari hai.

There is more to share. But I guess this much rant should be enough for now.

P.S. : I have used a smiley in this post. Surprisingly Blogspot does not provide such a trivial thing in its features and I really had to work hard to include it in my post. So even if you don't value the post, atleast value this effort... :P :) ;) :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

The story of a Bhaiya jee

2011-04-13T00:22:00.000+05:30

To avoid ‘3 Idiot’ like controversy, I give full credit of the story to Sharma jee (the biggest BC’od I have come to know) and of course Akhilesh jee, without whose concerted effort this post would have never happened.

Akhilesh jee from Benaras, the city of IT-BHU has been a man of simple and humble mode of living. This is a true incident of his life…

AK was destined for greatness, so it was no surprise when he became the first one of his blocks to score in IIT-JEE exams. For obvious reasons his friends were in awe of him. On one fateful day, they all got an invitation from one of their friends, inviting them to his marriage.

Venue: Bhabua, (50 kilometers from Varanasi)

Well AK might have cleared JEE and all, but train travel was something he has never attempted. The same was true for all his other friends. Hence starts “Akhilesh ki pratham train yatra.”

Akhilesh ki pratham train yatra

The schedule time was 9:00 am. Well, AK might not have used Indian rail, but he sure knew how the system works. Never on time!

So, they arrive at the station a little late to compensate for the inefficiencies of railways. But the train’s starting station was Varanasi, and hence it left on time. Not one to lose hopes they went to Mughalsarai to catch another train. After a two hour wait, a passenger train arrives.

AK (to a person on the station): Bhaisahab ye train Bhabua jati hai kya?

Gentleman # 1: Jee haan!

AK chale apni sawari leke

So AK and his friends happily get on the train. They were waiting on the door when Bhabua station came. The train was travelling at a good speed, and to their surprise it did not stop at Bhabua.

AK (to another person on the train): Bhaisahab, hum to puch ke baite the, ki ye train Bhabua jaati hai kya, per ye to ruk hi nahi rahi…

Gentleman #2: Bhai, ye train Bhabua jaati to hai, per wahan rukti nahi hai.

As nothing was going right for them, so they decided against pulling the chain. People suggested them to get down at the next station from where they can get a return train.

After sometimes the train stopped at a small station. Not wasting a moment time, they all got down there. They enquired whether any train passes from there towards Bhabua and whether it will stop at Bhabua.

After sometimes a train came, and maintaining the same speed passed them without stopping.

AK (to the person who gave him info about the train): Bhaisahab, aapne to kahan tha yehan se Bhabua ke liye train pass hoti hai..

Gentleman # 3: Train to yeha se jaati hai per yehan nahi rutki.

By this time, AK-gang had enough of Indian railways and they decided to take a bus to Bhabua. They came out of the station and came to know that they can get a bus only at the next station which is 5 kms away. Seeing no way back and with no other option left, they travelled this 5 kms on foot only to realize that the last bus has left few mintues ago.

So they started asking for lift. Per ye zaalim duniya sirf advice de sakti hai, lift nahi… After an hour a truck agreed to drop them at a place Mohania (about 4 kms away from Bhabua). Once they reached Mohania, they hired an auto for Rs. 150 to Bhabua.

Is tarah se Akhilesh jee ki pehli train yatra samapt hui. Yehi soch rahe honge aap!!

Aisa hi kuch AK ne bhi socha tha… per picture abhi baaki hai mere dost.

On reaching Mohania, they asked the auto-wala about the address of the wedding venue. They showed the marriage card to the auto wala.

AK (to auto-wala): Arey Bhaiya, ye card per jo address likha hai, aapko pata hai kaha per hai..

Auto-wala (looking at them with total amazement): Arey Bhaiya, ye address to Mohania ka hai, jehan se aapne auto thik kia tha, aapko pehle puchna tha.

Even after all this, AK was not the one to lose faith on God. Again with some jugaad they finally reached the wedding venue. Like it was the last thing before their life ends, all of them attacked the food items. They ate like elephants and drank like camels. After some dance and celebrations they decided to congratulate the friend, whose marriage they were attending.

AK (to another person in the wedding): Bhaisahab, Kisna kahan hai?

Gentleman # 4: Kaun Kisna!

AK: arey kamal karte hai, jiski shadi hai…

Gentleman # 4: arey kamal aap kar rhe hai, shadi to Birju ki hai, aur aap log kaun hai?

AK equipped with his JEE brain suddenly realized his mistake and asked his friends to furtively leave the scene.

After another half-hour search they finally located their friend's wedding venue, wished him and went to sleep.

In the morning while leaving for Benaras, they decided that to avenge all that has happened to them, they wont buy tickets and make railway pay for them.

Currently they are standing in front of a T.T. at Mughalsarai station, asking him to forgive them.

The story of a dude, the tale of a loser

2011-04-12T23:09:00.000+05:30

Ek Rahe Dude, Ek Rahe Loser

Disclaimer: This is the real story of a dude and I have not made up any of the parts. To be honest some of the incidents are so hilarious that if I could really write such funny stuff then I would be calling Rohit Shetty for his next script.

Incident 1

Dude is very happy. His vacations are starting on 4^th of a random month and ending on the 8^th of same random month. He is studying in an engineering college of New Delhi and his hometown is 'somewhere in UP'. What is there to laugh? Well he books a ticket from 'somewhere in UP' to Delhi for 4^th and a return ticket from Delhi to 'somewhere in UP' for 8^th.

What! You said, you did not get the joke. Now I am laughing at you also.

Incident 2

Dude is pursuing some higher study degree in some other college now. Dude has taken some electives because of which his exams gets over on 12^th of April (year irrelevant). But because of his foresight he had his tickets booked for 14^th April. So he waits for two extra days, listening to all the jibes of his friends who had their exams ending on 14^th. When he is leaving for station on 14^th he checks his ticket to find that he had originally booked the tickets for 12^th only. He conveniently forgot this fact and somehow an angel (devil) in his dreams told him that he has booked his ticket for 14^th.

Incident 3

Dude's Motto in Life: Chalo Dilli

Dude again plans in advance for New Delhi, this time not repeating mistake number one and two. So he books the ticket not mixing the return dates and marks the ticket date on every possible corner of his room. On the D-day (February 22, 2011), he leaves for the station. After nearly an hour or so, 'the Loser' gets a call from the Dude.

Dude: Oye, kal ERP ka end term hai kya?

Loser: Yes, why!

Dude: Yaar, maine ERP lia hai.

Loser: What! Then why are you going to Delhi?

Dude: I was so concerned about getting the tickets, train and station right that I forgot to check the schedule for classes…

Loser: hahaha…!!! (cellphones drops from his hand) he is rotfl, well not f but b(bed).

So the dude comes back to the hostel and checks the schedule just to be sure.

What are you thinking?

It is not over yet.

Our dude finds out that in addition to the ERP he also has his SMIT end-term a day later.

Meanwhile Loser is thinking, if he saved the Dude from getting forked in two of his papers than how come he is Loser and Dude is dude. Slowly, he resigns to the fact that the world operates in this way only.

Amritsar: The city of Golden Temple

2011-02-15T08:17:00.000+05:30

Amritsar- a city in the northwestern part of India, the city of Golden Temple, the city of Jalliawala Bagh, the city privy to the Independence movement, the city of Sikhs and the city of peace. The last description was a complete surprise to me as well. People always perceive Sardars to be loud and outspoken in their behavior, but the people of Amritsar are something different. It is like all the calm-headed Sikhs of the world have been told to gather in the city. Walking in the city, not knowing even a single soul does not matter at all; as everybody is in so much peace with himself or herself that it sometimes scares you.

I don’t know why I wanted to visit the city, as (a) I am not a Sikh myself and (b) I don’t know anybody in the city. But I always knew I had to visit the city. Every time I would plan my next vacation, Amritsar will the first place to pop in my head. I will never be able to explain the feelings in words or by the medium of this ordinary blog, but in my heart I know there was something. And finally the feeling grew so strong, that I had to visit Amritsar. With all the thoughts running in my head, I was convinced a trip to Amritsar is going to change my life forever. Hence it became inevitable that I don’t go to the city.

Convinced about my plans, I enquired with few of my friends if they wanted to join me to this trip. The truth was I did not care about anyone else joining me. I was so convinced of going to the city that I was going to do it anyway, someone coming or not.

If I had any apprehensions about the trip they all evaporated the moment I set my sight on the Golden temple. I had seen it in movies and picture, but I never believed a monument, a building of concrete and marbles, could make you fall in love with it. Till this day, it remains one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.

Golden Temple: One of the most breathtaking view

Totally mesmerized, I spent some 2-3 hours in the temple compound. After that I visited Jallianwala Bagh, situated right besides the temple. It is true the world today is a lot different than what it was at the time of independence, but seeing the monument, suddenly makes you lot more aware of your Indian-ness.

Finally I ended my perfect day with a visit to the Wagah border, with the lowering of flag ceremony.

Wagah Border

As they say a trip well planned.

The secure dilemma of an unsecure mind

2010-12-29T13:38:00.000+05:30

Caution of Note: Don't try to understand the post below, as the chances are you won't be able to get anything.

The last post was written in a zest. It only captured my feelings, my malevolent wishes, the fragments of my insane mind, the uncooked thought…

I always had those thoughts at the back of my mind. Always the thoughts running in my mind, always imagining scenes, scenes running through my mind, as if I was actually living them. It was all very scary, but what was scarier was, I always felt relieved after each such session of scene play. The picture would concern, how the life will turn out, if my malevolent wishes come to reality. Still, never before I tried to give it a existence in the real world. Then as I wrote my thoughts on a piece of paper and then actually gave them existence in the form of blog, guilt started trapping me.

In the sake of self-exploration, I still continued. Each passing word, more difficult to form, more difficult to type… Thoughts more enmeshed in the complications, I am not able to figure out. Words running like crazy stallion, thoughts that are not making any sense at all. Still, this is the only path I think will ease me up, assuage me of my complexities, give me some perspective of the life that lies ahead.

Calmness, serenity is what I am looking for; so that I can think of reasons, think of logic. And logic, a strange vice, is somehow eluding me. I want to think of a reason or reasons, for the desires I have inside me. Cravings that were always there, but now I am not sure, why I want that.

Just to search reasons, for such straightforward feeling is proving to be a lot trickier than I anticipated. I can’t shrug of the guilt, and somewhere I have convinced myself that I am not wrong at all. Struggle, is what I have to deal with right now.

So, I leave the introspection part to some other time.

Incredible India- The city of temples, Ujjain

2010-12-29T11:33:00.000+05:30

North of Indore lies, city of temples- Ujjain

I must admit that both my visit to the place has been unwillingly. Once with my parents and the other time with my relatives. The problem with my parents and most of my relatives is that their idea of a perfect holiday or a trip is to go to some religious place. Even in Goa they will search some temple and spend the time there.

It is not that I am anti-religious. I just don’t identify with their idea of religion. For me, there is God and here is me and there is no one in between, especially not the Brahmans and the Pundits. Religion is a part of life for me and not some set rules of processes and procedures.

Ujjain: A scene of the marketplace

So here I was, AGAIN! The thought of a religious place puts me off. I can’t stand those hypocrites Pandas and Pundits at these places. I really can’t fathom how can they really be at peace with themselves after how they hackle and con people coming there. On second thought, it is not their fault and every person who gets into their trap deserves it, including my parents and relatives.

Now, enough about those B*******d Pundits! Actually talking about those morons has really angered me and I have lost the thought of what I was supposed to write at first place and the rationale behind this post.

Okay, back to main post. It is no surprise that it is called the city of temples, as according to localites there are nearly 116 temples in the city, including the Mahakaleshwar Jyotirlinga temple. The temple is one of the twelve Jyotirlinga temples of Lord Shiva and second in Madhya Pradesh, apart from the Omkareshwar temple. The city has its root dating back to Mahabharat, and is considered as one of the holiest place by Hindus. I guess it forms a part of the Sapta Puri, or seven sacred cities

The Temple

By that standard I find the city really neat and clean. Maybe hosting a Mahakumbh every twelve years has its own advantages. As I have spent four years in Varanasi, so my idea of a religious place is benchmarked against that.

Reaching Ujjain is really convenient. The nearest airport is in Indore city. Indore has flights from both New Delhi and Mumbai. So one can arrive in the morning by flight, take a cab to Ujjain. The Intercity from New Delhi to Indore passes via Ujjain. So alternatively one can take the train and get down at Ujjain. The first time I followed the train route and the second time, the flight-cab route.

The city has got some descent facility for accommodation in the form of dharamshallas and hotels. Most of the accommodations are near the main temple. The definition of sightseeing in the city is the Main Temple, then some other temples, then some more temples and then some more. I guess you got the point.

Shopping consists of some Prasad, some statue and stuff like that.

A click on my mobile at 4:00 in the morning

One really interesting thing is the ticket system for the Bhasma-Aarti. You have to get a ticket. To get the ticket one needs to fill a form, provide a photocopy of personal Identification proof. Then go in the evening collect the form. Get up the next morning at around 2 or 3 in the morning, stand I a queue and be there inside the temple at 4 in the morning to see the Bhasma-Aarti. Sounds too tough, well I have done it twice, or shall I say, endured it twice. Still God is not listening to me. I don’t know what I need to do. :)

Breaking News: Liquidity and Volatility arrested on charges of Contraction' murder

2010-12-01T04:22:00.000+05:30

Special Correspondent, Tarun Goyal

DALAL STREET, FINANCE CAPITAL: In a sensational revelation Liquidity has been help responsible for the murder of Contraction, as a result generating an environment of 'total spread'. Preliminary investigation shows that Liquidity was unhappy with the way Mr. Capital Market was acting on behalf of Mr. Foreign Exchange. To stop these two and avenge for its beloved High Money's rape Liquidity attacked Contraction.

File Photo: High Money

It is known that Contraction was a business partner of Capital Market and Foreign Exchange. More important is the fact that Contraction was the prime accused in the case involving High Money's rape. Only last week he was released on an interim bail pending the hearing of his appeal. Till further reports come Volatility has also been taken into custody as a partner-in-crime with Liquidity.

"We are monitoring the situation closely", said Leverage, the public prosecutor for the case. He is also the attorney general in the famous case involving Risk & Growth.

Some report term that the whole chaos is because of the promiscuous nature of High Money. Although no one is ready to quote anything but on conditions of anonymity some said that High Money has illicit relationship with both Capital Market and Foreign Exchange. It was only when Contraction tried to molest High Money in a party thrown by Capital Market that the situation got out of hand.

Right now no one is sure where is High Money. She is an important witness in both the cases, involving her rape and the murder of Contraction. Pranab Da, on condition of anonymity has said that Sardar has abducted High Money and is holding her captive in his private mansion situated at Mint Road.

Chika(centre) trying to reason with Pranab Da(right), who has accused Sardar of abducting High Money as Sardar(left) looks on

Until further notice the general public has to do without the sensuality of High Money and pray for Liquidity's release.

Incredible India- Holi at Mathura

2010-11-30T06:35:00.000+05:30

I originally belong to the state of Uttar Pradesh, and more specifically the city of Agra. We have an, or rather had an ancestral home in Agra. The house according to my Amma (grandmother) was at a walking distance from The Taj Mahal. Well, I can’t believe everything she said, as in olden times due to lack of any mode of conveyance, a person in any case had to walk long distances. :) So the definition of walking-distance really needs to be verified.

Childhood was never biased to any colors of life

At a distance of around 60 kms and lying to the north of Agra is Mathura, the birthplace of Lord Krishna. Now Krishna is definitely the coolest of all Hindu Gods and every corner of Mathura is a confirmation of this fact. As I write this, I realize that his birthplace is also a disputed land. Why is it that the birthplaces of most of the gods are disputed starting right from Jerusalem? Anyways, coming back to Mathura, my Baba (Amma’s brother) has a home in Mathura. His house is at a walking distance from the great temple of Dwarkadeesh.

And it was the year of 2007, that I got an opportunity to visit Mathura with my family. It was during Holi. As I live in the state of Jharkhand (previously Bihar), so I don’t have a very favorable view of the festival of Holi. I am not here to criticize any traditions or mode of celebration; it is just that I never really liked the way Holi is celebrated there. For me Holi was never a festival to enjoy apart from the food part. So here I was with my preset notions, not very eager about Holi. But what I witnessed was really great.

First of all the Holi in Mathura is celebrated with Gulaal, unlike with colors/mud at other places. So you can enjoy Holi without worrying about the endless hours invested in removing the color from your body. With some celebrations in the house, my cousin brother suggested that everyone (including my cousin sisters, jijajee) go out and see the Jhanki or Lord Krishna. Again with my preconceived notions, I was not sure of the idea.

But as we stepped out of the home, I was pretty surprised to see that everyone was virtually out on the streets waiting for the Jhanki. As the Jhanki crossed, people were playing Holi with flowers and some Gulaal. This was how I celebrated during daytime and in the evening we went to Barsana, a suburban town near Mathura.

The last warrior, the last drop of joy, the last remains of color

The thing to watch out for here is definitely “Lathmaar Holi”. I don’t know the logic of it; neither do I want to know. Again, I definitely don’t want to be a part of it. The tradition goes something like this:

Some males will position themselves with a shield and are bombarded with water, color, and gulaal from all the sides. In all these there will be women who will try to beat them with sticks. As I write it down, it sounds insane, but believe me it is not. Because the woman’s skill lies in hitting the fellow and the male skills lies in defending himself.

It is total hysteria and lots of fun. And let me tell you one more thing that the dialect spoken over there is really nice and it makes you feel wanted. Maybe I am a little biased over the dialect here, as I belong to the place. But the Holi celebration in Radha temple at Barsana and the actual Holi at Mathura is not something one should miss.

So pack your bags for the next Holi as I will meet you at Mathura.

My love hate relationship

2010-11-28T01:18:00.001+05:30

I was in the middle of writing a perfectly normal post, and there I spot her again.

Oh man! Come on!

Just a few days back I drove her out of my room. How shameless can she be? Can’t she notice, that I don’t like her? In addition to that, there is nothing in my 'perfectly clean' room for her.

Then I realized I not only ‘don’t like’ her, I am also afraid of her.

Yes, I admit, the fearless Tarun Goyal is afraid of lizard and for that matter, I am afraid of anything and everything that creeps. I just can’t stand them. And to add to my woe, none of my friends share my emotions. Just plain emotionless bastards!

They are perfectly okay about sharing their rooms with some complete stranger. They don’t mind if she is just crawling on the wall of their room or creeping on their floor. Not me, though! I tried to do this a lot of times, acting all cool, as if I don’t care, if it is in my room or not. But the longest I was able to do so was for 30 seconds.

So this time also I have to drive her out.

By now, I have more or less perfected the art of driving a lizard out of my room. The path was never easy, it was full of obstacles, and I learnt a lot by committing mistakes. With my lizard-repellant art, I went on to drive her out. Again!

After my inevitable victory, I thought this is becoming too much of a regular affair. So I turned to the great Google to help me out. Googled: “How to keep lizards out?”

I got nothing substantial. Too rub salt on my wounds, every search result will start with "most of the women are afraid of...". Come on you sexist pigs. Men are not always supposed to be brave. I also have the right to be afraid. I only got this little piece of crap. I have no idea whether it works or not. I don’t care, because I am not going to try it.

So I don’t know how to keep lizard out. What I do know is how to effectively drive lizard out of your room, once it gets in.

Keep a long stick/broom/pole handy with you. For me, it is always the curtain bar.
Close every almirah doors, drawers, dustbin covers and any other such things. I learned this lesson, a very hard way. It is a very tragic story, but some other day.
Identify the current location of your target.
Open all the windows and doors of your room. It might backfire sometimes though, because as you drive this creepy character from one exit, another one can take entry from the other side. But “risk to spiderman ko bhi lena padta hai, fir tum to ‘whatever’ ho”
Based on the current location of the target, identify an exit option for your unwanted guest.
Using your weapon (curtain bar in my case), tap on the opposite side, to where you want the guest to go. It means the guest should always be between, the door and the pole. As it will not like to run towards the pole, so it will run towards the door.
As soon as she goes out of the door, shut the door quickly. Shut all windows, and take a deep breathe, relax, you are safe now. Nothing can happen to you.

Some words of caution:

Always try to position yourself on an elevated place, like your bed, or table or chair. You never know the creep might want to take a stroll on the floor.
Always maintain a distance of minimum of one meter. Otherwise, in case, if it jumps towards your side, you might die of heart attack. I was almost on the verge on one, and now I am more cautious.

Even after all these, she manages to get hold of you, God be with you. ☹

It ends here-Volume II

2010-10-17T03:31:00.001+05:30

For part one of the series click here.

As they set on their journey, people who came to know about the plan were very supportive, never missing an opportunity to deride the effort. Among the horde, one particular S needs special mention. He has made his mission to quantify everything in life. If the quantification can be in monetary terms all the more good. The point he misses is that something is done, without any logic being attached to it, without any rational and without any tangible benefits. These things exist because they differentiate humans from God’s other creation. Any effort to quantify these things will be like a blasphemy against your God.

For the pics click here.

With a print out of Google map, a knife and other basic stuffs with them, they set foot on their journey. Never knowing what lies ahead, the eccentrics in any case did not care. The path, a treacherous one and the rain on previous night not helping, only toughened their resolve. The destination was always on their sight, working like a chimera, always so close but nowhere in reach. After three long hours they reached a large tree, which they made as their base camp and rested for some time. But rest was only an illusion as the objective still lie ahead of them, in sight but not in reach.

And away they went again towards their objective, after a brief pause and determination on mind. Another half hour and they were at the foot of their beloved- THE TABLETOP.

Then it occurred to Shanta that he has never done something so remarkable in life, all the academic achievements apart. His heart, filled with a sense of accomplishment, he was content. But they were at the foot of the mountain only and there was no way Bhanu and Doru were going to give up so easily and neither were they going to allow Shanta to do so. With total grit and some motivation they finally reached the top, five hours after they started on their journey.

What seemed like an outline from campus was a reality now and the reality- the campus has turned into a mere dot for these three. The reverse reality was now a reason for celebration for them, a moment of festivity for them. Now they will be able to be at peace with themselves, now they will achieve tranquility, but a breather is not what they will get right now. Now is the time to reflect back at their journey, a journey where they crossed farms, where they were knee deep in mud, a journey where they met Babloo- a local shepherd. It is the journey where they dared the incessant rain, where they were not ready to give up in the face of all adversity.

It will be the journey that will be etched in the mind of these three, but lost in the pages of history, never repeated again, never ever thought of again. And it will be here, when they will have a mountain top named after them, where people will come to know this tabletop as Mt. VAT.

It all begins- Volume I

2010-10-17T03:29:00.001+05:30

“They went, they tried, they nearly failed, AND then they finally conquered.”

They seem really normal, in fact invisible to most people around them. In the world of FB, when every petty achievement becomes a champion of ‘likes’ and ‘comments’, they achieved great heights and still managed to remain low-key.

The overwhelming beauty of the campus was something that Bhanu first noticed when he was settled in his room. But something else was enticing him towards itself. On enquiry he found out that there is no way to reach there. Disheartened he resigned the idea of reaching there. Only the truth that lied ahead in the chest of future was a little different.

Doru has always been a dark horse, away from the hordes of sheep around him. “Out of the box thinking” has been an effort in constant pain for most, but for Doru it has been a way of life. It was only destiny that he and Bhanu will become part of THE TRIO.

The third cog of the wheel Shanta has been an enigma. It was never possible for anyone to gauge his emotions. His face reveals as many emotions as a plate glass window. It was never possible for anyone to tell when an idea excites him and when he is not interested. When he agreed with his trademark indifference to be a part of THE PLAN, he completed the picture. No pre-conditions dictated and no questions asked just plain nod in agreement, such was his nature.

“THE PLAN”, it was. It wills to fulfill a long forgotten dream of Bhanu. None has done it, no one has ever tried it; so no one really failed at it; forget about someone ever thinking about it.

When it was mentioned, “ The overwhelming beauty of the campus was something that Bhanu first noticed …”, the statement was not entirely true.

No doubts that the beauty of the campus was mesmerizing but that was not what capture the attention of Bhanu. It was the outline of a tabletop mountain at the far south of the campus that really excited Bhanu. “There is no medium to reach there”, was the terse reply from Gopi, the housekeeping staff.

The dream was long forgotten, until one-day during a trip to Mandu, Bhanu ignited the idea of covering the whole distance on foot. Exciting and at the same time daring and more importantly totally unconventional, was the first thought that crossed Doru's mind. The next moment he was nodding his head in agreement, and a day before the D-day Shanta joined the plan.

For the next part click here.
For the pics click here...

MY summer experience: 2010

2010-05-11T15:43:00.000+05:30

So I have a friend posted in the hip-hop Gurgaon as part of his summer internship.

But, he is not happy in Gurgaon!!

What are you saying dude!

Arey boss! Because he is from a scary-land called Chennai

So coming to my friend, his condition reminds me of the gospel which the lord himself bestowed to his favorite follower. I will not name the follower or the lord to avoid controversy, but here goes the saying.

Long since our brothers and sisters have suffered in the hands of the auto-drivers and uthapam makers, in a hostile terrain, down South in the peninsular land of India. Now it is our turn.

Thou shall strike, thou shall take vengeance! It’s the time for revenge!

Hence, with retribution in mind, the almighty decided that since it is not ideal to change the people, let the force of climate be unleashed. And so it was. The NCR yet again witnessed the highest average temperature for the past XYZee years. Temperature so high, that even a person used of living in a boiler-land (my friend in this case) genuflected in front of its might.

On the other end, suddenly the whiteness index of Chennai saw a sudden jump.

It is not because of my Chennai wala friend (believe it or not, he actually decreased the whiteness index when he left), but because of one UP’ite who landed on to the brackish water at Marina beach. Although he belongs to the badlands of Gorakhpur (remember the movies Sehar, Ishqia), but he considers himself to be directly descendant from US of A. The only thing going in his favor is his highly unusual fair color, especially for a male species.

So here he is jostling with the auto drivers and the idli-sambhar-rasham combo. Poor fella.

The Maratha Warrior

“Are you from UP?” The auto-driver asks Exzact, who was readying himself for another day at his Worli office.

“What!!” was my friend’s initial reaction to this harmless query.

“Arey Bhau, I am asking it, because you look like you are from UP”, says the auto driver.

“No, I’m not”, was the terse reply.

“You see sir; people from outside Mumbai are coming and filling all the vacant places. Local trains, cinema halls, malls, parks, driveways, footpaths, tea-stalls, now they have even started occupying the auto stands”, was the fair assessment of the simpleton from Maratha land.

My friend was left speechless. Seeing so much wisdom, so much insight, in a common man (actually common man of Congress), he could not utter a single word.

On the other hand, seeing no response, the Einstein driving the auto continued his highly insightful sermon.

Flabbergasted, as my friend was, at his own inefficiencies and the other fella's wisdom, he decided to take another auto.

At another place in the same city, a little kid has got his SLR professional camera. So he clicks, whatever comes his way and posts on FB. I must admit, though not so gladly that slowly he is improving and now some of his clicks actually make sense. I hate to admit, but now I also appreciate some of his works.

As for me, I am relaxing in my dingy room at IIMB. Wasn’t IIMB a better college (or shall I say MBA institution)? Then by that corollary, aren’t the room supposed to be better. But, such is life. So, I try to fit in myself in the 3’ X 7’ room. Thinking of another day, some another assignment at the office.

Theirs not to reason why

2010-03-19T03:40:00.000+05:30

I first heard these lines, while I was watching some hollywood movie. Immediately the phrases spellbound me with its brilliance. So armed with the power of Google Baba I did a few clicks, some type here, some type there and here it was. I was so much enthralled by the prose that I decided to publish it in my blog.

The concerned poem has been written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson in the year 1854. He titled it "The Charge of the Light Brigade".It is about the Charge of the Light Brigade at the Battle of Balaclava during the Crimean War.

To appreciate it, one has to look into the context in which Lord wrote these lines.

The soldiers knew that there is only death in charging ahead and fighting, but still they don't question and follow their commander. Why? Why were these 600 men so motivated? Was it courage? Yes, courage it was, but courage can only take them to the battle-field, it cannot equip them with the aggression and rage, which propelled them to face the cannons.

So what was it then?

In true sense it was Honour; honour in serving one's land, honour in fighting alongside their batallion, honour of not questioning their commandant.

Honour of Dying in a battlefield...

Half a league half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred:

'Forward, the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns' he said:

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'

Was there a man dismay'd ?

Not tho' the soldier knew

Some one had blunder'd:

Theirs not to make reply,

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do & die,

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them

Volley'd & thunder'd;

Storm'd at with shot and shell,

Boldly they rode and well,

Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of Hell

Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,

Flash'd as they turn'd in air

Sabring the gunners there,

Charging an army while

All the world wonder'd:

Plunged in the battery-smoke

Right thro' the line they broke;

Cossack & Russian

Reel'd from the sabre-stroke,

Shatter'd & sunder'd.

Then they rode back, but not

Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volley'd and thunder'd;

Storm'd at with shot and shell,

While horse & hero fell,

They that had fought so well

Came thro' the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of Hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?

O the wild charge they made!

All the world wonder'd.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

Note: I don't know if I am doing some copyright violations by republishing these poem. As I am not aiming to make any profits from it, so I guess my intentions are right. I can be in peace.

Still if someone thinks it is a copyright violation, then just leave a valid comment and I will remove the post.

The Lone IIM Interview

2009-02-28T14:51:00.001+05:30

Day (-) 6, February 06, 2009: I reached home and braced myself for the long celebrations which were in the store of future. It was only 9:00 in the morning when I reached home, pretty early by my standard. But as the time will tell sleep is going to elude me for some days. Few close relatives came and then it was decided that we will be going to Asansol for the Bhaat ceremony. I tested my new Digi-cam and make the first official use of it. By the time we were back it was already 11:00 in the night.

Day (-) 5: Again in the store was a long day. Some more preparations; and in all of them I was playing a secondary role. Went to Dharamshalas (marriage venue) to check if all the arrangements were going on as desired or not.

Day (-) 4: More or less the same routine as the previous day. Nothing significant happened, which can guarantee a mention here.

Day (-) 3: This was the day which would tell me what it means to be involved in a sister’s marriage is. Some more relatives arrived. There were some traditional rituals which were performed. The name of none of those I remember right now. In the night it was a small family BC sabha, pretty different from the BC sabha’s which I was used to. And it was quite late when I went to sleep.

Day (-2), February 10, 2009: I woke up. Total sleep 3-4 hours. Woke up quite early even by anyone standard and a hell lot early by my own standards. We all went to Dharamshalla, I had my breakfast and yes I got Mehandi applied on my palms. Some of the people were shocked as I had the interviews coming in two days time. Even I was not sure at that time, but who cares, this was the last time I will be a part of any of my siblings wedding. The day consisted of running from one Dharamshala to the other, either on bike and sometimes even on foot.

I had my lunch in the meantime, in bits and pieces, taking share from everyone’s plate. It was also the day when Sangeet ceremony was going to take place. So some preparations in that regard were also necessary. So it was all traveling and running around on bike, car, foot etc. etc.

Then finally the Sangeet ceremony started and it was all real fun. A lot of dance and music and that meant fatigue. Finally after performing all the tasks at around 1:00 a.m. in the night I found out the hangout adda of all my cousins and sisters. I was going to join them for a game of cards/housie but suddenly I realized I haven’t yet filled the IIM interview form (IIF). So curbing my temptation I took out the photo copy of the interview form (this was the most sane and significant thing I had done to prepare for my interview, as I would realize later on) and started filling out the answers.

Why do you want to pursue an MBA? ….. I need money, but I can’t write these answer. So I called up Gaur and Mangal in Kolkata to find some standard answer on Google. In the meantime I keep on asking to my cousin regarding my strengths and weakness. At around 2:00 a.m. I again called up Mangal and jotted down the answers he was dictating on the phone. And that was it. I had pretty much made a rough draft for each answer and I decided that I will note down the answer on the original interview paper whenever I will get the time. <>. At least I should have seen the original form at that time. But….

So I went to sleep at around 3:00, promising myself that I will get up at 5:00 a.m. as a lot of tasks were to be completed.

Day (-1), February 11, 2009: But as usual I overslept and I woke up at 6:00 a.m. Total sleep of 3 hours. I just brushed my teeth somewhere on the way and then went to the next Dharamshala where the wedding ceremony was going to take place. And the same routine of the previous day, running from one place to next, but with a far higher intensity. I didn’t get time to have my breakfast, but this time I had my lunch in a proper manner. In the meantime a lot of rituals were taking place, none of which I remember.

But I do remember the Korath, because I was there to formally invite the bride groom and his side for wedding. By the time I reached back to the wedding venue the party had started and everyone was ready in their best suits/sarees. Only I and my elder cousin were wearing the same shirt we had on for the whole day. I rushed to my room and got ready. Then I rushed and escorted my sister to the wedding stage. Had some photo-sessions in between and then again I had to rush to get sweets from the other Dharamshala. So I missed being part of the traditional stage photo-shoot.

And the celebrations continued on and on. I realized that I have to leave in the morning otherwise I will miss the train. At 1:00 a.m. I went to home, picked up my clothes, the IIM interview form and yes, the necessary documents.

I went back to Dharamshala where now also, the rituals were going on. I tried to take a much needed break, but every now and then someone would interrupt and so.. At around 4:30 a.m, on the 12^th morning I prepared to leave with no sleep at all, I missed the Bidai part, but so is life.

Total sleep of zero hours.

Day(0), February 12, 2009: THE D-DAY- The interview was to start at 1:30 p.m. I boarded the train at 6:00 in the morning. And as soon I boarded the train I fell asleep on my chair-car seat. I woke up, look at my watch its 7:30 a.m., again woke up, its 8:30 a.m., 9:15 a.m., 9:45 a.m., 10:10 a.m., 10:20 a.m. The train was standing still and half-empty. So I had reached Howrah station. I took a taxi from outside and reached the flat at 11:45 a.m. Took a 10 minutes break, took out my IIM interview form and started filling it. As for most of the questions I had some draft answer prepared, I thought it will be a five minute affair, but it took me around 20 minutes to copy the answers in a proper manner. I was already getting late and then I got the shock of my life.

In the photocopy one question was not properly printed, so I had somehow missed that question and as a result had no answer for that question. But I had to manage somehow, so I scribbled down whatever thoughts came to my mind at that time on the original IIF.

And than another bigger shock, I had to paste a photograph in the form, but by my own grace I didn’t had one at that moment.

I got up to get myself ready and then I remembered I don’t have a white shirt to wear inside the suit. I searched through Mangal’s wardrobe. I found a crumpled white shirt. It was already 12:30, and I had an un-ironed shirt, a form with no photograph and me with no sleep at all. I creased the shirt at its front, tucked it in and rushed to get another taxi to the interview center(IC). But I had to get one instant photograph. I took the taxi to one photo studio and requested them to give me one photograph faster than the instant five-minute photo. By the time I left the photo-shop it was already 12:55. I was still in the Salt Lake and it takes nearly one hour to reach interview center from Salt Lake. And then one more problem, I couldn’t find the gum to stick the photograph. So I again boarded the same taxi and asked him to rush to the IC. On the way I stopped by to purchase a glue stick, took out my form in the taxi, pasted the photograph, creased my suit and shirt and knotted my tie. And so I was ready. But there was only one small problem I was already late and feeling sleepy.

But miracles do happen, and I just ended 5 minutes late for the GD/PI session. And I had been so tensed and excited, tired and exhausted for the past few days that I was actually feeling really relaxed and calm in the cool AC-GD room. And I had never been so confident ever before any of the important days. Maybe it was all the result of hallucination caused due to sleep deprivation.

Group Discussion Room:

We were given a one page case-study and asked to give our suggestion in written format. The time allotted was 30 minutes and then we had to have a discussion for 20 minutes. But the funny part was, like everybody else I couldn’t figure out a problem in the case-study, so there was no question of giving an analysis and problem solution. After 15 minutes, the discussion started drifting towards the repetitive track. So overall a dull and boring GD. But I was feeling more confident than ever. Really that sleep-thing was taking me over.

Interview Room:

The interviews for most of the candidates were a 10 minutes affair. Same was with me. The interview was quite good by my standards, as till that moment I had done a negative preparation for the interview. So any positive step, howsoever small it might be, was a big achievement for me. The only screwing part was the Engineering part. The part goes like this:

Interviewer 1: So it seems that you have a special liking for Mechanics of Solids subject. What was this subject all about?

ME: . Only one thing I was sure I must have good grades in this subject. {Only time will tell, how wrong I was}. So I start blabbering out, with no idea what this subject is. I was sure about one thing, that everything in Civil Engineering is somehow related to ‘concrete’. So I give a long fatta that what this subject is all about. In my answer I was also wrong about the semester. But he was agreeing to me in such a positive nod that it started giving me confidence.

After my answer he asked but where was the mechanics part in this subject. Then I suddenly realized that I just talked about solids but no mechanics. So I again prepared myself for a long fatta about mechanics and somehow relate it to solids. But then he kept on persisting to explain him that why do we draw BMD??? Good question, only I had no answer to that question. But my nascent confidence/over-confidence just kept on giving one fatta after other.

And the interview ended.

At the end they asked me to have some chocolates which were lying in a bowl in front of them. I realized that I hadn’t had anything to eat since the previous night.

But who cares, I took another taxi to meet some of my old colleagues and friends from CTS.

And this is how one of the most important and happening day of my life drifted towards its end. Whatever are the IIM results, this day the 12^th of February will always be etched in my memories, as this is the day my sister got married, I missed her Bidai and I took my lone IIM interview.

{By the way the subject Mechanics of Solids is actually “Strength of Materials” which was taught in 3^rd semester. In that semester I was the topper of the branch (yes, believe it, puhleeze). I got all A’s, one S, one B and one C in that semester. And the C was in the subject Mechanics of Solids.}

Where are we heading??

2008-11-08T20:41:00.000+05:30

MNS. Bihar. Maharashtra. Fights. Anti North India. Killing. Beating. Taxies shattered. Mass exodus towards Bihar.

I have been listening to all this, reading about them and in a way was getting used to all this. Yes used to all this violence! Strange as it may sound, but probably that has more to do with my Indian upbringing, where we learn to avoid and in a way enjoy all this fights and brawls between two clashing-groups and if one of the groups happens to involve us, the better. After all, these things provide a great fodder for our morning tea gossips, the essential masala for our BC groups.

And then suddenly we hear Rahul Raj. Something rings somewhere and it hurts very badly.
MY first thought; a legal murder. Yes strange as it may sound but such a connotation is possible only in the great CIVILIZED society of our great nation. Possible or not, hmmm.... doesn't matter. But that is what it is. Because one thing is clear that it was a murder and not an encounter. And no one is ever going to be booked for it.

On one side was a person who was disturbed to say the least, at the ineptness of government to handle a small goon with a large mouth and the following of even larger idiots. No doubt, the act of Rahul can be termed as childish defying all the foundations of idiocy but not at all what the Maharashtra police wants us to believe, even by the greatest stretch of a rational imagination.

So what makes the murder/encounter of a small town, unemployed youth so important and worthy of a mention in the national news?
One: He belonged to Bihar.
Two: he was killed in Maharashtra.
And three and most important: He was killed when he could have easily been overpowered by a few policemen. It’s another matter if those pot-bellied policemen have more faith on a fire-spitting machine then on their own muscular power.

And to top it all, the same administration is quick in justifying the killing. What a great example of their integrity and dedication to the nation. To add to the disgust, these same people start lauding and patting the back of one another after a broad day-light murder of an innocent youth.
The reason for the murder, "He was a threat to the society, a member of a Bihaari Mafia".
And that statement sums it all. It clearly reflects the perception of people of Maharashtra towards the Bihaari junta. This murder has brought into daylight the inner malice and ill-thinking of the higher administration. And it clearly explains why no action is initiated against rioters who endanger the safety of north Indians in Mumbai.

I don’t want to dwell upon the fact that whether or not Bihaaris should be allowed into Mumbai or not. It is a long and debatable issue one which requires a thorough and rational discussion. My grievance is only towards the plight of innocents and people like Rahul Raj. Probably Rahul was too much into Hindi movies and likewise he thought everything goes right at the end. Probably he was inspired by RDB and the thinking of its protagonists. If that is the case he should have seen the end! It is not always the good men who get to live at the end of a story.

A dream: yes that is what it is...

2008-06-26T23:27:00.002+05:30

Before starting I should state that I don't belong to the know-it-all clan. So this attempt of mine is not at all aimed at any of the socially or politically relevant issues pertaining to the mankind. This is also not related to any of the day-to-day issues bothering our countrymen.

If one has heard about someone's mere presence inspiring even the dead to walk, they will definitely relate to this piece of writing. When someone by being there can change the whole definition of someone else's life. The way one starts to see their life and find a meaning and purpose of their existence. When everything done before that, gives you a feeling of emptiness and whole life gone by seems a desultory journey....

This is about a girl; I don't know if it's fair to call her that. Because then it means that she has to adhere to all the standards set by us, the earthlings. That means that she has to stoop to the mortal levels of the ordinaries. Said this, it is no way an attempt to deride anyone, but the fact remains that by finding a mention in the same context as her, half fulfils the purpose of their life.

This is about a belle dame who has got in her eyes the sparkle of a twenty eight year old and laughter of an eight year old. In whose presence even the most gifted and sanguine ones become doubtful about their existence, as if the rationale behind the existence of everything else doesn't matter anymore. And when she is gone they curse god for being so unfair, for endowing only one of his creation with such flawless existence. A presence so refined that it threatens the very definition of perfection. Her beauty has got the charming Indian finesse that makes is so much more magnetic, so much appealing. Her overall grace is what one calls the height of feminine elegance. The face carries a childish innocence which imparts exactness to the whole character. She has got a voice which does nothing more than just comply with her charm and that in itself is no minor achievement. Her eyes add to the aura around her and bewitch everyone and everything around them.

The sacred and sublime beauty mesmerizes even the most evil of minds. There is only one thing more faultless than her, only one thing perfect for her and that is she herself. Her uncorrupted existence makes everyone desire that this dream never ends that the world around them remain as it is, nothing should move or change. A dream: yes that's what it is; every moment one spends around her seems unreal, imaginary, for they cannot believe that they can be so fortunate. I hope that I remain fortunate, and the dream never ends.

P.S: A writer's biggest achievement is in making people believe in facts which he himself doesn't believe in.