November 3, 2015
April 23, 2014
I have been looking to buy a cheap Windows 8 laptop for a long time .
However I have realized that the OS forces you to use the touch
interface and a non touchscreen laptop is not really suitable for this
purpose.
My favorite laptop is the Asus Vivobook
. Classy and fully functional
A good review of this product is found from CNET.
My favorite laptop is the Asus Vivobook
. Classy and fully functional
A good review of this product is found from CNET.December 12, 2008
The value of a man's life
The perspective of life and risk has changed a lot in recent times and especially after the Mumbai attacks. We Indians are slowly waking to the fact that they will have to face people who are professionally trained in killing the innocent and creating panic. Blinded, brainwashed by false idealogies,such people no longer see the fact that no religion preaches killing in its name. In such times it was quite refreshing to watch a movie like 'Stranger than fiction' which talks about the value of a man's life more that anything.
In a strange setting befitting the name , the central character Harold Crick played by Will Farell in a non-comic non slapstick role is the life in question. An IRS officer and a creature of routine, times each part of his life including coffee breaks to the minute. Suddenly his life goes awry when he find himself hearing someeone narrating his life to him at each step disturbing his routine and eventually warning him of his impending death. As time runs out for Harold ,he finds love and discovers what living is . The final touch is of an author suffering from writer's block changing the ending of a seemingly perfect novel to save the value of a 'insignificant life'.
In a strange setting befitting the name , the central character Harold Crick played by Will Farell in a non-comic non slapstick role is the life in question. An IRS officer and a creature of routine, times each part of his life including coffee breaks to the minute. Suddenly his life goes awry when he find himself hearing someeone narrating his life to him at each step disturbing his routine and eventually warning him of his impending death. As time runs out for Harold ,he finds love and discovers what living is . The final touch is of an author suffering from writer's block changing the ending of a seemingly perfect novel to save the value of a 'insignificant life'.
December 10, 2008
The name is Bond. James Bond
I was never an ardent follower of the Bond movies. I liked Pierce Brosnan and found him immensely stylish. I liked the Bond girls better especially Sophie Marceu in ' The world is not enough' . Yet I never found the stories of the Pierce Brosnan Bond very interesting. You may argue that Bond-the movie has been always been style over substance. Point taken. Though this was not always the case. The old Bond movies did not have such wafer thin plots or such boring villians.
Speaking of villians. it is the villians that add color to the heroics of the villian.Every great hero needs an even greater villian and I cant really remember any notable nemesis of Bond in these movies. For example it did not have a Joker who is a criminal not for the money or power or any worldly pursuits. He is a great villian because he is simply evil in all his flesh and bone. Pierce Brosnan's fans were instead an oil tycoons who wants to rule a pipeline or a newspaper magnate who wants to increase his circulation. Half of us would probably shrug and say that is business not a crime enough to challenge the world number one super agent. Frankly after Die another Day I thought Bond was sadly over as an icon.
In came Daniel Craig and his Casino Royale. This was the first Bond movie that I watched twice and that too back to back in the theatre. The 2 B/W kills that he makes to attain Double 0 Status, the breath taking parkour chase, the hard hitting action and I was a fan of the blonde Bond. It was surprising to see Bond fall in love and even more to see him heart broken. Nothing matched the excitement on hearing the last line of the movie... a dialogue I have heard in countless bond movies and yet one which sounded refreshingly new...
The name is Bond, James Bond
Speaking of villians. it is the villians that add color to the heroics of the villian.Every great hero needs an even greater villian and I cant really remember any notable nemesis of Bond in these movies. For example it did not have a Joker who is a criminal not for the money or power or any worldly pursuits. He is a great villian because he is simply evil in all his flesh and bone. Pierce Brosnan's fans were instead an oil tycoons who wants to rule a pipeline or a newspaper magnate who wants to increase his circulation. Half of us would probably shrug and say that is business not a crime enough to challenge the world number one super agent. Frankly after Die another Day I thought Bond was sadly over as an icon.
In came Daniel Craig and his Casino Royale. This was the first Bond movie that I watched twice and that too back to back in the theatre. The 2 B/W kills that he makes to attain Double 0 Status, the breath taking parkour chase, the hard hitting action and I was a fan of the blonde Bond. It was surprising to see Bond fall in love and even more to see him heart broken. Nothing matched the excitement on hearing the last line of the movie... a dialogue I have heard in countless bond movies and yet one which sounded refreshingly new...
The name is Bond, James Bond
December 9, 2008
Writing for the heck of it
They say marriage is bliss.
I am not entirely sure who the 'they' refers to and am quite uncertain if there is really a they. Somehow I have heard a frequent phrase of 'marital bliss' so I assume there existed some wise men ( or women - for the painfully irrational feminist who could be hurt by my reference to men as if only men could be wise... ) who ordained one fine day that marriage is bliss.
What the etymology of the phrase, I am inclined to say there is a ring of truth in it. I have heard many people say that people change after marriage and I was 200 percent sure I wouldnt. Now I realize that marriage does change you. There is a new world that you begin to live in, a new person- a new life. If things go right, that world seems so complete and self sufficient.Frankly it is a very comfortable feeling , something that my limited sense of words is unable to describe but anyone who has been there would know. Something of a cocoon that you wrap into where the rest of the world doesnt matter. Life is comfortable, life is happy and life is fun and all my time is filled without taking up much effort, or burning any calories or 20 phone calls to 19 people .
Marriage seems to be a 'lazy' bliss. In spite of my restless nature it is a fun phase to be in. However I realized suddenly how much of a sloth I have become and I really see no reason to wake from that slumber. I havent written anything for a long time, the guitar and keyboard are gathering dust and I have been too lazy to call up any friends. So before I start gathering cobwebs in my brain, I decided to write this for the heck of it.
Now back to utter laziness of my existence...
I am not entirely sure who the 'they' refers to and am quite uncertain if there is really a they. Somehow I have heard a frequent phrase of 'marital bliss' so I assume there existed some wise men ( or women - for the painfully irrational feminist who could be hurt by my reference to men as if only men could be wise... ) who ordained one fine day that marriage is bliss.
What the etymology of the phrase, I am inclined to say there is a ring of truth in it. I have heard many people say that people change after marriage and I was 200 percent sure I wouldnt. Now I realize that marriage does change you. There is a new world that you begin to live in, a new person- a new life. If things go right, that world seems so complete and self sufficient.Frankly it is a very comfortable feeling , something that my limited sense of words is unable to describe but anyone who has been there would know. Something of a cocoon that you wrap into where the rest of the world doesnt matter. Life is comfortable, life is happy and life is fun and all my time is filled without taking up much effort, or burning any calories or 20 phone calls to 19 people .
Marriage seems to be a 'lazy' bliss. In spite of my restless nature it is a fun phase to be in. However I realized suddenly how much of a sloth I have become and I really see no reason to wake from that slumber. I havent written anything for a long time, the guitar and keyboard are gathering dust and I have been too lazy to call up any friends. So before I start gathering cobwebs in my brain, I decided to write this for the heck of it.
Now back to utter laziness of my existence...
January 19, 2008
11 A PG for the Gods
It is difficult to find a temple in Salt Lake. That is ironic considering the Bengali love for culture and their reverence for Kali.Somehow my experience of Kali puja in Kolkata was more about the food, glamourous show pieces and dancing and less about spirituality. I have always been enamored by their love for music and dance but sometimes I suspect that perhaps the Bengali love for culture is more hedonistic and less about God.
Findind a temple was never difficult in Bombay. Bombay ( I prefer calling it Bombay as it was in my childhood) is considered cosmopolitan but you would always find a Ganesh temple in one corner by a banyan tree or on a side street next to the shops. I wonder if it is the Shiv Sena is to thank for that.The city may be driven and the people ambitious and you would think that people never have time for visiting God's home. But somehow in the same practical way that most Mumbaikars approach things, many do find a way to schedule a temple visit and a simple puja into their organizers.
Chennai has many temples which is not too surprising since the South is known for temples. However cosmopolitan the city becomes, the Chennai people seem to remain protective of their way of life in a down to earth way which I have always admire and wish will always remain.
I heard a rumor that there was a temple in AE block .I wondered which of the innumerable Indian deities would it host. So on a Saturday night after watching the miracle conjured at Perth and the narrow escapes of Federer and Venus Williams , I finally decided to go and have a look. I walked to the right of CRP camp island for the first time looking around to see if I could see it. I heard it before I saw it - a chant of Narayana and I saw a small marble building on the right side of the road. I removed my slippers in the clay like sand outside and approached the entrance. It was a small 8 by 8 feet enclosure. Their were two entrances on either side and I took the one on the left. To my surprise there were more deities than I had hoped for. There was a Hanuman on the right painted with a Shiv Sena colored red paste. There was a Shiva Tridev in the center and a Shiv ling in front of it. There was a female diety which I assume to be Lakshmi to the right. A tri headed Vishnu in the right most corner. There was a big OM painted on the center wall. I wondered why they had two side entrances than one central entrance. I managed to squeeze myself to sit down in front of the Hanuman, silently listening to the chants from a speaker somewhere in that room.
It was a PG for the Gods, all of them living together without complaint in a place where property rates were going through the roof even for them. Nevertheless in that clamped space, I felt happy. I am not into idol worship in the sense I dont need to have an object in front of me to pray to or talk to God. I have always felt that you can and should look for the God within you and demonstrate it with a sense of purpose and duty in my life. So I have always wondered about the strange happiness I felt on entering a temple even when wasnt praying. Was it the ambience? the ringing of the bell? the silent chant? was it seeing the idols and finding a physical embodiment of my hope in life?
Or is simply that God DOES reside there I dont know. I guess I never will? Some things you simply got to believe. Which is what I guess they call Faith.
PG or no PG.
Findind a temple was never difficult in Bombay. Bombay ( I prefer calling it Bombay as it was in my childhood) is considered cosmopolitan but you would always find a Ganesh temple in one corner by a banyan tree or on a side street next to the shops. I wonder if it is the Shiv Sena is to thank for that.The city may be driven and the people ambitious and you would think that people never have time for visiting God's home. But somehow in the same practical way that most Mumbaikars approach things, many do find a way to schedule a temple visit and a simple puja into their organizers.
Chennai has many temples which is not too surprising since the South is known for temples. However cosmopolitan the city becomes, the Chennai people seem to remain protective of their way of life in a down to earth way which I have always admire and wish will always remain.
I heard a rumor that there was a temple in AE block .I wondered which of the innumerable Indian deities would it host. So on a Saturday night after watching the miracle conjured at Perth and the narrow escapes of Federer and Venus Williams , I finally decided to go and have a look. I walked to the right of CRP camp island for the first time looking around to see if I could see it. I heard it before I saw it - a chant of Narayana and I saw a small marble building on the right side of the road. I removed my slippers in the clay like sand outside and approached the entrance. It was a small 8 by 8 feet enclosure. Their were two entrances on either side and I took the one on the left. To my surprise there were more deities than I had hoped for. There was a Hanuman on the right painted with a Shiv Sena colored red paste. There was a Shiva Tridev in the center and a Shiv ling in front of it. There was a female diety which I assume to be Lakshmi to the right. A tri headed Vishnu in the right most corner. There was a big OM painted on the center wall. I wondered why they had two side entrances than one central entrance. I managed to squeeze myself to sit down in front of the Hanuman, silently listening to the chants from a speaker somewhere in that room.
It was a PG for the Gods, all of them living together without complaint in a place where property rates were going through the roof even for them. Nevertheless in that clamped space, I felt happy. I am not into idol worship in the sense I dont need to have an object in front of me to pray to or talk to God. I have always felt that you can and should look for the God within you and demonstrate it with a sense of purpose and duty in my life. So I have always wondered about the strange happiness I felt on entering a temple even when wasnt praying. Was it the ambience? the ringing of the bell? the silent chant? was it seeing the idols and finding a physical embodiment of my hope in life?
Or is simply that God DOES reside there I dont know. I guess I never will? Some things you simply got to believe. Which is what I guess they call Faith.
PG or no PG.
January 13, 2008
7 Choiceless Awareness
Some of the profile status in gtalks are pretty imaginative, some are stylish, some humorous. Something caught my eyes - Choiceless awareness. I did not what that was. I googled it up and found some material on it. It simply means living in the present and experiencing it rather than going through life mechanically.
It is a form of meditation in which you consciously everything that you are doing and the world around you.
While this may seem like a simple task it is definitely not. At least I found it next to impossible for my mind forever dwelves in the past or dreams of the future. The kind of constant self awareness demanded by this is daunting yet quite refreshing. I guess most sportsmen possess this and so do most musicians- An ability to get lost in the present.
As such you are expected to be an observor of your oneself and the world around you.
If you are interested in knowing more try the link below:
http://www.meditationiseasy.com/mCorner/here_and_now_Meditation.htm
It is a form of meditation in which you consciously everything that you are doing and the world around you.
While this may seem like a simple task it is definitely not. At least I found it next to impossible for my mind forever dwelves in the past or dreams of the future. The kind of constant self awareness demanded by this is daunting yet quite refreshing. I guess most sportsmen possess this and so do most musicians- An ability to get lost in the present.
As such you are expected to be an observor of your oneself and the world around you.
If you are interested in knowing more try the link below:
http://www.meditationiseasy.com/mCorner/here_and_now_Meditation.htm
9 The meaning of 2008
I got into an argument with a colleague about the significance of a new year. I had felt something special about the New Year, as if it brought me happiness from somewhere. However my friend disagreed and said that the only thing he felt in the New Year was a massive hangover !
I wondered if so why celebrate a new year at all. The only significance it seemed to be of a administrative one where each activity, each mail was recorded with 2008 instead of 2007. For that why celebrate birthdays,why remember anniversaries?
My guess is that we as humans look for those discrete points which give us a sense of where we are , how close we are to the beginning and end in the chaos called life. We We give ourselves the luxury to look at the past year and tell ourselves how well we have done. If we havent done too well, we give ourselves hope saying that the New Year will be better.
My friend was right. Each day was the same as the past and the future. Time is vast and endless and we cannot pinpoint a date as an inflexion point which will change everything for the better. Yet I would prefer to live in hope and say that this New Year will bring me Luck, that this day is brighter than yesterday.
I wondered if so why celebrate a new year at all. The only significance it seemed to be of a administrative one where each activity, each mail was recorded with 2008 instead of 2007. For that why celebrate birthdays,why remember anniversaries?
My guess is that we as humans look for those discrete points which give us a sense of where we are , how close we are to the beginning and end in the chaos called life. We We give ourselves the luxury to look at the past year and tell ourselves how well we have done. If we havent done too well, we give ourselves hope saying that the New Year will be better.
My friend was right. Each day was the same as the past and the future. Time is vast and endless and we cannot pinpoint a date as an inflexion point which will change everything for the better. Yet I would prefer to live in hope and say that this New Year will bring me Luck, that this day is brighter than yesterday.
January 2, 2008
10.Taare Zameen Par
I am fascinated by the movies that Aamir Khan chooses to make. There is a missionary zeal about him to make the world a better place by spurring people to action. I guess most of us forget everything as soon as we exit the movie hall but if after those two and a half hours if one person walks out of the hall and changes his life, he must consider his job well done. That the movie makes money is secondary.
It is easy to say that the movie is about a dyslexia but it goes the root of the human paranoia with all things different .We dont like people who worship different Gods, whose melanin levels are different, who speak a different language or basically who is unlike us. Ishaan played brilliantly by Darsheel is a dyslexic child who does not even know that he is different. Because he is unable to read and write , he has a poor academic record, his teachers dislike him, his father loves him lesser ( at least that is what the child thinks) and he always feels inferior and useless. The one thing he does wonderfully well is painting.
Understanding a child is such a challenge and the people around him are not upto it. Few today in our materialistic world really have the time for it. We are so engrossed with the rat race for success. Irrespective of how well we do in that race , His parents want their child to be ahead in that futile race. Teachers want to keep their horses ahead and schools want their 100% pass records.
But some like Ishaan's mother accepts him and it is her love is what keeps him sane.
However when the teachers insinuate that he could be mentally retarded, his father give up responsibility by promptly sending him to a boarding school. In order to avoid social stigma, they deprive the very love he needed the most. The manner in which he rages from within, withers and almost dies from inside is painful to watch.
Aamir ,the temporary art teacher being dyslexic himself understands him and saves him and prevents this beautiful stars from imploding.
There were shades in the movie which I could relate to myself. I had short sight from class two but I feared the stigma of wearing a spectacle. No one in my family wears spectacles how could I? Being tall I was a last bencher and I never saw the board. However I was terrible at outdoor sports, never took catches in cricker and was quickly labelled a bookworm. It was a fearful secret of mine throughout my childhood and frustrated me, ate me from within. That my mom loved me so much and helped me channelize my energies towards studies and reading and top my classes to help me to feel happy about myself. She played chess and carrom and was my only friend. When I finally spilled the beans and got glasses in class IX I realised how silly I had been . I saw the world and its immense beauty for the first time.
The movie asks many questions of me. Did I have it in you to be a good father to my child - the patience, the understanding, the courage? Can I teach my child to reach out for her dreams and find herself? Can I be strong and love her for what she is when she falls on the ground struck down by reality?
And most important of all, can I make an example of my own life? Something which will tell her what is love all about?
It is easy to say that the movie is about a dyslexia but it goes the root of the human paranoia with all things different .We dont like people who worship different Gods, whose melanin levels are different, who speak a different language or basically who is unlike us. Ishaan played brilliantly by Darsheel is a dyslexic child who does not even know that he is different. Because he is unable to read and write , he has a poor academic record, his teachers dislike him, his father loves him lesser ( at least that is what the child thinks) and he always feels inferior and useless. The one thing he does wonderfully well is painting.
Understanding a child is such a challenge and the people around him are not upto it. Few today in our materialistic world really have the time for it. We are so engrossed with the rat race for success. Irrespective of how well we do in that race , His parents want their child to be ahead in that futile race. Teachers want to keep their horses ahead and schools want their 100% pass records.
But some like Ishaan's mother accepts him and it is her love is what keeps him sane.
However when the teachers insinuate that he could be mentally retarded, his father give up responsibility by promptly sending him to a boarding school. In order to avoid social stigma, they deprive the very love he needed the most. The manner in which he rages from within, withers and almost dies from inside is painful to watch.
Aamir ,the temporary art teacher being dyslexic himself understands him and saves him and prevents this beautiful stars from imploding.
There were shades in the movie which I could relate to myself. I had short sight from class two but I feared the stigma of wearing a spectacle. No one in my family wears spectacles how could I? Being tall I was a last bencher and I never saw the board. However I was terrible at outdoor sports, never took catches in cricker and was quickly labelled a bookworm. It was a fearful secret of mine throughout my childhood and frustrated me, ate me from within. That my mom loved me so much and helped me channelize my energies towards studies and reading and top my classes to help me to feel happy about myself. She played chess and carrom and was my only friend. When I finally spilled the beans and got glasses in class IX I realised how silly I had been . I saw the world and its immense beauty for the first time.
The movie asks many questions of me. Did I have it in you to be a good father to my child - the patience, the understanding, the courage? Can I teach my child to reach out for her dreams and find herself? Can I be strong and love her for what she is when she falls on the ground struck down by reality?
And most important of all, can I make an example of my own life? Something which will tell her what is love all about?
December 31, 2007
The Bokkhali Adventure
Requiem for a trip
The idea for a trip began when Ben decided to Shillong for the New Year leaving me alone at home. Not wishing to spend the New Year alone at home I sounded Ankit and the Marketing gang for a trip somewhere. The viable options were trekking in Bakura and the beach in Bokkhali, the only beach in the east not plundered by us.
Impromptu Plan for Bokkhali
Bakura was Sougat’s home town, Sougat being Ankit’s new room mate. It was in this matter that I met Sougat and I could sense my own passion for exploring life reflected in him. The plan was quickly made. The place was Bokkhali and the time was for the early morning the last Saturday of the year. Though we had called Hotel Deepak, the numbers were still unknown . Hence we decided against bookings. No bookings in the holiday season was a risk but it gave us the leeway to allow anyone who wished for an impromptu adventure could join.
The players
The trip was to be of four parts - cab drive to Sealdah, train journey from Sealdah to Namkahana, a van followed by a ferry to cross the Ganges and finally the bus ride to Bokkhali. Though the opposite sex always brought a different flavour to such trips, The iternary was daunting and unpredictable and we ditched the idea to call the girls for the trip. Hence it was a close dependable and flexi-group who could handle uncertainties . As things turned out we had been right on this count.
While the Mandarmani gang backed out we are eventually left with the four roommates Mohit, Rohit , Sougat and Ankit while I being the only outsider dropped into their house on Friday. Packing was done, the cab to Sealdah were booked for 4 am and alarms for set for 3.30 am.
D-day arrives Saturday 29 Dec 2007 3.30 am
I never heard the alarm but the rest were already up. Rohit and I decided to have a cold shower in the logic that it would prepare us to face the freezing weather outside. The cab arrived at 4.00 am sharp, we withdrew 2k from the ATM each and off we went ! The taxi driver confidently left us at the South terminal only for us to discover that it was the North. It was not the first time we had faced such frustration in Bong Land and as far as the trip goes not the last
The train left at 5.00 and we enjoyed a nearly empty compartment. The cold wind of the pre dawn morning blowing open doors of the local train left us shivering. Our warm clothes proved grossly inadequate and we end up forming a Pepsi huddle to survive. We wrapped our spare clothes onto our faces and hands and dressed very much like stereo typical terrorists- Notably Ankit wrapping a green sweater across his face with only his baby eyes visible. Rohit was the only one unflinching in the face of extreme cold and coolly stood near the train , almost mocking at us. Whether it was his sturdiness or simply foolhardy heroism we still do not know.
Eating is a very good pastime in trains and we snacked all the way - black golis, delicious lemon tea for 1 rupee and a certain food I can only name as the Puri prasad sweet. We were sharing an ipods and a walkman with 1 ear phone each( Rohit being at the door was left out :) ) Mohit cringed whenever his Punjabi balle balle ears were assualted by my Minnalae and 7 G rainbow colony songs and still worse Gilli !
The journey time was so much of a mystery. The Passengers kept saying 2 hours to Namkhana when the journey started and after 1 hour it still was 2 hour. Consider our experience with Bengal punctuality we were amused not amazed.
We reach Namkhana at 8.00 (making it a three hour trip !). As we left the station that the last train to Sealdah is at 8 pm courtesy a TTs useful tip to Rohit. However I glanced on the railway board which said it should be at 8.55 but I let it pass.
The 'van'er coaster : 8:05
We encountered the 1st of the many Vans we would be using in the trip here to take us to the ferry site. Now the van here is not the red double door Omni with sliding doors but a cart pulled by a man on a cycle . Five of us got into the 'van' with our luggages for a 3 km joy ride. The roads were of the size of a broad gauge track and were flanked by 10 feet deep water bodies infested with flies. This being not very different for us from a bridge over a moat swimming with crocodiles , Sougat and Rohit on the outer side of the van were positively thrilled ( shit scared? ). The icing was the 'van ' traffic came from the opposite side too so Mohit and Ankit on the inner side could have exciting possibility of their feet torn off each time this happened. We somehow managed to reach in one piece only to know the adventure was worth 3 bucks a piece.
Ferry ride over the Ganges : 8:10
We reach the ferry place to take us to the other side of the Ganges. The place is such that even buses need to be ferried across. I wondered idly(idealistically) why they couldnt simply build a bridge since the distance was hardly 100 meters. 50 paise per head - forty people we were told. 'Rich' and spendthrift that we were, we booked the entire ferry for 20 rs and enjoyed the 3 min ride to the other side.
Bus to Bokkhali : 8.20
Tired and sleepless Mohit, Ankit and I dozed off as soon as we climbed into the bus. The ever energetic Rohit and the Bong speaking trip 'lead' Sougata kept watch. As the bus started Rohit noticed a newspaper guy climb aboard who promptly took the seats to the back of the bus next to the window. We expected the guy to get down some where but this guy had his own delivery system. Whenever the bus stopped , he would simply pick a newspaper from his bundle and throw it expertly into the shop. Rohit and Sougat washed amazed that this happened some thirty times during the trip and he never missed. As Rohit described there was an instance when the bus stopped a bit before the shop and there was a lamp post in between. This lefy a two feet clearing between the shop window and the post, a 30 degree angle and a distance of 15 feet. Both of our awake 'fans' watched with bated breath as our 'next Olympics candidate ' removed a newspaper like a seasoned archer and proceed to conquer the impossible. The newspaper whizzed through the air like a vertical disc through that small opening and landed right in the shop !
The hunt for the Room -
An hour later we got up sleepy eyed to see that we had reached Bokkhali. Leaving the rest at the beach, Sougat and I walk the road looking for a place to stay. We walked towards towards a hotel on the beach, which turns out to be a private residence with swimming pools and tennis courts. We looked for other avenues not finding any we walk through a path towards the main road - through coconut trees, crisscross date trees and a funny sight of ducks following cattle around like children following their parents.
We reached the road and soon realized that getting a room would be a tricky business. We enquired in Bokkhali Tourist lodge, dolphin, sea view, ballakhali, deepak and with each hotel we got a wee bit more desperate.A Hundreds hotels but no rooms for 5 of us. With a sinking feeling we looked at each other and thought silently that it had been damn foolhardy of us going to a beach in holiday season with no bookings!
We took stock of the situation and set our eyes lower, now looking at the unattractive residential houses. The first was Pinki,a dingy smelly place alas, no manager could be found . We went next door to find Tribha, equalling Pinki in its shadyness. That is when we met the diminutive swaggering supervisor later we will know him as Diwakar.
Duwakar looked at us like untouchables and very reluctantly beckoned us to follow him to the first floor. The room he showed us was a dingy little Hellhole with a bed for two and a small toilet. How much ? we asked with a grimace. 700 taka pat came the answer . Sougat flew off the hook and cries foul in his fluently clipped high pitched bengali. We needed three rooms of this size which would end up costing us 2100 bucks. This was bloody ransom. But Diwakar coolly snickers with a slimy smile - In a normal day I would give you this is for 400 u have no options - I have the only rooms. We looked at each other. The bugger was swindling us but we knew that we are truly cornered here. Sougat tried to convince him with his usual aggressive delivery but Diwakar had the assured suave of a drugged peddlar who could see desperation in our eyes.In the end we settleed for a room on the ground floor with a huge bed for 5. Rs.1000 he said. We settled for that.
The Laloo of Bengal
Sougat was exasperated with the uncouth Diwakar and his unprofessional attitude of dealing with a customer and trying to fleece him but little did he know we would find that more often in the rest of the trip..For only now did Laloo enter the scene.. Laloo chandra jana - our van driver for the rest of the day. While Diwakar was a snake, Laloo was a sweet poison and it took us a long time to figure him out.
After having a sumptuous local food at Swapnapari for just 250 rs for the five of us, we were looking for places to visit. While the Bokkhali beach was right in front of us, Laloo the van driver whom Ankit and the rest had found promised that the Henry Island beach was far more isolated and better for bathing. HE offered to take us for Rs. 60 two ways per head. We conferred and told him that we would pay him if we thought it was worth it.
That is how our wild goose chase began. When he took us on the circuitous route to Henry island he became a tour guide of sorts explaining the difference between the flora that made Sunderban such as Sundri mangrove. There were a lot of photo opportunities especially with the prawns and the watch tower where he seemed to have stolen some tree branches to show to us. Sougat became our Bengali translator and relayed every titbit to us in Hindi. We were pretty impressed with Laloo's knowledge and even more after he show us his Fabulous India tourist guide certificate. After passing the artificial fresh water lakes used for fishing and owned by Chandan Basu, we reach a rope bridge we had to walk over to reach Henry Island.
The beach was totally isolated as promised but that was apparently all that Laloo had been truthful about. We undressed happily bundling all our clothes in a mound and eagerly ran towards the water. Sougat and I were first into the water and as we waded a few feet deep into the water we realized that something was wrong. The sea floor was uneven and the surface very slippery. We tried to our best to venture forward into the water but decided it best not to. The place was too dangerous for bathing. We watched Laloo running around nad trying to find places we could venture into. It looked like a well orchestrated show and that was the first time we began to suspect him
The idea for a trip began when Ben decided to Shillong for the New Year leaving me alone at home. Not wishing to spend the New Year alone at home I sounded Ankit and the Marketing gang for a trip somewhere. The viable options were trekking in Bakura and the beach in Bokkhali, the only beach in the east not plundered by us.
Impromptu Plan for Bokkhali
Bakura was Sougat’s home town, Sougat being Ankit’s new room mate. It was in this matter that I met Sougat and I could sense my own passion for exploring life reflected in him. The plan was quickly made. The place was Bokkhali and the time was for the early morning the last Saturday of the year. Though we had called Hotel Deepak, the numbers were still unknown . Hence we decided against bookings. No bookings in the holiday season was a risk but it gave us the leeway to allow anyone who wished for an impromptu adventure could join.
The players
The trip was to be of four parts - cab drive to Sealdah, train journey from Sealdah to Namkahana, a van followed by a ferry to cross the Ganges and finally the bus ride to Bokkhali. Though the opposite sex always brought a different flavour to such trips, The iternary was daunting and unpredictable and we ditched the idea to call the girls for the trip. Hence it was a close dependable and flexi-group who could handle uncertainties . As things turned out we had been right on this count.
While the Mandarmani gang backed out we are eventually left with the four roommates Mohit, Rohit , Sougat and Ankit while I being the only outsider dropped into their house on Friday. Packing was done, the cab to Sealdah were booked for 4 am and alarms for set for 3.30 am.
D-day arrives Saturday 29 Dec 2007 3.30 am
I never heard the alarm but the rest were already up. Rohit and I decided to have a cold shower in the logic that it would prepare us to face the freezing weather outside. The cab arrived at 4.00 am sharp, we withdrew 2k from the ATM each and off we went ! The taxi driver confidently left us at the South terminal only for us to discover that it was the North. It was not the first time we had faced such frustration in Bong Land and as far as the trip goes not the last
The train left at 5.00 and we enjoyed a nearly empty compartment. The cold wind of the pre dawn morning blowing open doors of the local train left us shivering. Our warm clothes proved grossly inadequate and we end up forming a Pepsi huddle to survive. We wrapped our spare clothes onto our faces and hands and dressed very much like stereo typical terrorists- Notably Ankit wrapping a green sweater across his face with only his baby eyes visible. Rohit was the only one unflinching in the face of extreme cold and coolly stood near the train , almost mocking at us. Whether it was his sturdiness or simply foolhardy heroism we still do not know.
Eating is a very good pastime in trains and we snacked all the way - black golis, delicious lemon tea for 1 rupee and a certain food I can only name as the Puri prasad sweet. We were sharing an ipods and a walkman with 1 ear phone each( Rohit being at the door was left out :) ) Mohit cringed whenever his Punjabi balle balle ears were assualted by my Minnalae and 7 G rainbow colony songs and still worse Gilli !
The journey time was so much of a mystery. The Passengers kept saying 2 hours to Namkhana when the journey started and after 1 hour it still was 2 hour. Consider our experience with Bengal punctuality we were amused not amazed.
We reach Namkhana at 8.00 (making it a three hour trip !). As we left the station that the last train to Sealdah is at 8 pm courtesy a TTs useful tip to Rohit. However I glanced on the railway board which said it should be at 8.55 but I let it pass.
The 'van'er coaster : 8:05
We encountered the 1st of the many Vans we would be using in the trip here to take us to the ferry site. Now the van here is not the red double door Omni with sliding doors but a cart pulled by a man on a cycle . Five of us got into the 'van' with our luggages for a 3 km joy ride. The roads were of the size of a broad gauge track and were flanked by 10 feet deep water bodies infested with flies. This being not very different for us from a bridge over a moat swimming with crocodiles , Sougat and Rohit on the outer side of the van were positively thrilled ( shit scared? ). The icing was the 'van ' traffic came from the opposite side too so Mohit and Ankit on the inner side could have exciting possibility of their feet torn off each time this happened. We somehow managed to reach in one piece only to know the adventure was worth 3 bucks a piece.
Ferry ride over the Ganges : 8:10
We reach the ferry place to take us to the other side of the Ganges. The place is such that even buses need to be ferried across. I wondered idly(idealistically) why they couldnt simply build a bridge since the distance was hardly 100 meters. 50 paise per head - forty people we were told. 'Rich' and spendthrift that we were, we booked the entire ferry for 20 rs and enjoyed the 3 min ride to the other side.
Bus to Bokkhali : 8.20
Tired and sleepless Mohit, Ankit and I dozed off as soon as we climbed into the bus. The ever energetic Rohit and the Bong speaking trip 'lead' Sougata kept watch. As the bus started Rohit noticed a newspaper guy climb aboard who promptly took the seats to the back of the bus next to the window. We expected the guy to get down some where but this guy had his own delivery system. Whenever the bus stopped , he would simply pick a newspaper from his bundle and throw it expertly into the shop. Rohit and Sougat washed amazed that this happened some thirty times during the trip and he never missed. As Rohit described there was an instance when the bus stopped a bit before the shop and there was a lamp post in between. This lefy a two feet clearing between the shop window and the post, a 30 degree angle and a distance of 15 feet. Both of our awake 'fans' watched with bated breath as our 'next Olympics candidate ' removed a newspaper like a seasoned archer and proceed to conquer the impossible. The newspaper whizzed through the air like a vertical disc through that small opening and landed right in the shop !
The hunt for the Room -
An hour later we got up sleepy eyed to see that we had reached Bokkhali. Leaving the rest at the beach, Sougat and I walk the road looking for a place to stay. We walked towards towards a hotel on the beach, which turns out to be a private residence with swimming pools and tennis courts. We looked for other avenues not finding any we walk through a path towards the main road - through coconut trees, crisscross date trees and a funny sight of ducks following cattle around like children following their parents.
We reached the road and soon realized that getting a room would be a tricky business. We enquired in Bokkhali Tourist lodge, dolphin, sea view, ballakhali, deepak and with each hotel we got a wee bit more desperate.A Hundreds hotels but no rooms for 5 of us. With a sinking feeling we looked at each other and thought silently that it had been damn foolhardy of us going to a beach in holiday season with no bookings!
We took stock of the situation and set our eyes lower, now looking at the unattractive residential houses. The first was Pinki,a dingy smelly place alas, no manager could be found . We went next door to find Tribha, equalling Pinki in its shadyness. That is when we met the diminutive swaggering supervisor later we will know him as Diwakar.
Duwakar looked at us like untouchables and very reluctantly beckoned us to follow him to the first floor. The room he showed us was a dingy little Hellhole with a bed for two and a small toilet. How much ? we asked with a grimace. 700 taka pat came the answer . Sougat flew off the hook and cries foul in his fluently clipped high pitched bengali. We needed three rooms of this size which would end up costing us 2100 bucks. This was bloody ransom. But Diwakar coolly snickers with a slimy smile - In a normal day I would give you this is for 400 u have no options - I have the only rooms. We looked at each other. The bugger was swindling us but we knew that we are truly cornered here. Sougat tried to convince him with his usual aggressive delivery but Diwakar had the assured suave of a drugged peddlar who could see desperation in our eyes.In the end we settleed for a room on the ground floor with a huge bed for 5. Rs.1000 he said. We settled for that.
The Laloo of Bengal
Sougat was exasperated with the uncouth Diwakar and his unprofessional attitude of dealing with a customer and trying to fleece him but little did he know we would find that more often in the rest of the trip..For only now did Laloo enter the scene.. Laloo chandra jana - our van driver for the rest of the day. While Diwakar was a snake, Laloo was a sweet poison and it took us a long time to figure him out.
After having a sumptuous local food at Swapnapari for just 250 rs for the five of us, we were looking for places to visit. While the Bokkhali beach was right in front of us, Laloo the van driver whom Ankit and the rest had found promised that the Henry Island beach was far more isolated and better for bathing. HE offered to take us for Rs. 60 two ways per head. We conferred and told him that we would pay him if we thought it was worth it.
That is how our wild goose chase began. When he took us on the circuitous route to Henry island he became a tour guide of sorts explaining the difference between the flora that made Sunderban such as Sundri mangrove. There were a lot of photo opportunities especially with the prawns and the watch tower where he seemed to have stolen some tree branches to show to us. Sougat became our Bengali translator and relayed every titbit to us in Hindi. We were pretty impressed with Laloo's knowledge and even more after he show us his Fabulous India tourist guide certificate. After passing the artificial fresh water lakes used for fishing and owned by Chandan Basu, we reach a rope bridge we had to walk over to reach Henry Island.
The beach was totally isolated as promised but that was apparently all that Laloo had been truthful about. We undressed happily bundling all our clothes in a mound and eagerly ran towards the water. Sougat and I were first into the water and as we waded a few feet deep into the water we realized that something was wrong. The sea floor was uneven and the surface very slippery. We tried to our best to venture forward into the water but decided it best not to. The place was too dangerous for bathing. We watched Laloo running around nad trying to find places we could venture into. It looked like a well orchestrated show and that was the first time we began to suspect him
March 7, 2007
8. Satire: Thanks for your birthday wishes
hi
Thank you very much for your birthday wishes (If you didnt wish me you better do it damn quick) I thank orkut most of all for making it so easy to remember birthdays (nd curse it for taking away the charming surprise one feels when he is wished by someone when he least expected it. Earlier people used to be happy when I called to wish them as a surprise.After orkut came on the scene, I think it would be such a chaotic nuisance and I prefer to silently wish them in my heart .forgive my impractical romanticisms though)
So rather than give every one of those 129 scraps a richly well deserved and unique individual reply, I embrace the shelter of the superbly convenient yet aesthetically distasteful technological wonder of a bulk message.
I will try to paliate any slight felt by a few( nowadays an endangered species) sensitive tasteful souls ,by providing an efficient and omnipotent FAQ(the answer of technology for all your troubles in life)
WHat am I doing?(For those who know my birthday but not what I do???? Interesting question.)
I am working for HSBC analytics, Kolkata(For the uninitiated that is a city in INDIA known for strikes, rosagullas and batatas) in the Marketing team and I am loving my job.
Where am I ?
Genuine question...Since those who know more about me than just my birthday are aware of my tendencies to disappear without a trace . Not even Sherlock would find me when I do that.
I was in Bangalore when the bell struck twelve watching Eklavya .. ( The movie was a nail biter and a thumb cutter) The next day I disappeared to HYD... Sorry to people in both cities for not letting u people know ... But we Pisceans love our air of mystery so forgive my fickle ways.
Why didnt I lift the phone?
Good question(When you dont know an answer to a question say this.. it works wonders)I was snoring away to glory with the phone on silent mode? What do you sincerely expect from a newly born? Why would you ever disturb a beautiful baby sleeping with a satisfied smile on its serene face?
Love hearing from ya..
Thank you very much for your birthday wishes (If you didnt wish me you better do it damn quick) I thank orkut most of all for making it so easy to remember birthdays (nd curse it for taking away the charming surprise one feels when he is wished by someone when he least expected it. Earlier people used to be happy when I called to wish them as a surprise.After orkut came on the scene, I think it would be such a chaotic nuisance and I prefer to silently wish them in my heart .forgive my impractical romanticisms though)
So rather than give every one of those 129 scraps a richly well deserved and unique individual reply, I embrace the shelter of the superbly convenient yet aesthetically distasteful technological wonder of a bulk message.
I will try to paliate any slight felt by a few( nowadays an endangered species) sensitive tasteful souls ,by providing an efficient and omnipotent FAQ(the answer of technology for all your troubles in life)
WHat am I doing?(For those who know my birthday but not what I do???? Interesting question.)
I am working for HSBC analytics, Kolkata(For the uninitiated that is a city in INDIA known for strikes, rosagullas and batatas) in the Marketing team and I am loving my job.
Where am I ?
Genuine question...Since those who know more about me than just my birthday are aware of my tendencies to disappear without a trace . Not even Sherlock would find me when I do that.
I was in Bangalore when the bell struck twelve watching Eklavya .. ( The movie was a nail biter and a thumb cutter) The next day I disappeared to HYD... Sorry to people in both cities for not letting u people know ... But we Pisceans love our air of mystery so forgive my fickle ways.
Why didnt I lift the phone?
Good question(When you dont know an answer to a question say this.. it works wonders)I was snoring away to glory with the phone on silent mode? What do you sincerely expect from a newly born? Why would you ever disturb a beautiful baby sleeping with a satisfied smile on its serene face?
Love hearing from ya..
September 23, 2006
Trip to Shankarpur
The stage is set
The CIM animal and the FD datasets family decided to have an outing to Shankarpur. Polar and Sudu did the mail rounds, the Confused hanuman had all the funds,Gogo persuaded us for an AC bus and Sayantan books the accomodation and we were off on 2 September 5.00 PM after the UK friends did their very best to 'gift' us a timely delay. Luggages were packed in, so were we and the bus screeched itself out of its inertia.
The journey begins
Everyone waited for some one to start off something. No one did. Shatadru started playing his mandolin and Sayantan joined it with some folk songs. Shatadru was in 'undrunken' drunken mode gibbering all kinds of nonsense out of thin air. I wondered how he would look when he was actually drunk . Then the brains of analytics began on some lateral thinking ventures. A wide range of scenarios were uncovered from the heart breaking "He ran into the corridor" , the mysteriously melodramatic "The music stopped and she died" and the gross yet touching "Albatross sandwich" .
Then the real action started- Antakshari. I cant call it singing .I chose action for a lack of a word to describe the screaming we undertook to send shock waves through the bus. So action it is. It was boys vs girls and by that itself you must now that is not much of a competition is it? and won hands down. Aditi and Gargi notably among the girls gave quite a fight and tried their best. They were at their innovative best as they conjured quite a few unheard songs( some I suspect dont really exist) and unbelievably novel beginnings to suit the need of the hour. however Sayantan and Anshul were the stars and they pinned them down with songs ending in 'ra' and beat them to submission.
The next usual suspect as a time-killer for the 5 hour journey was Dumb C. Gogo then made a grand entry into the 'The gender struggle" scene with a challenge that you will never guess this in a hundred years. The look in Aditi's face said it all. There were a few fireballs in her eyes as she accepted that challenge. Of course they found it eventually after irking Gogo to repeat the name a 100 times ! Soumyaa was in her usual " Main kaun hoon? Main kahan hoon?" form at remembering names and her forgetting 'Teenage mutant ninja turles- The secret of the ooze' was the last straw in gogo-camel's back.
Dumb C ended without any knockout punch for both the sides. However in the final analysis I could award it to the girls on points. The females did prove their expertise at dumbness! Men cant really beat them at that can they? They just have too much practise and spanning many a generations...
With scores 0-0 between the two gladiator teams, we reached Shankarpur at 10 pm, ravenous and drop-dead tired. We barged into the eating house ( mess or restaurant- what ever you wish to call it) with our luggage. The place was not exactly visually aesthetic and the insect circling over the food was quite disconcerting. However the delightfully delicious food combined with a hungry monster growling in our bellies, we would have been in some " khooni panja" guest house with vultures instead of flies and we would have barely stopped the satiating transition from hand 2 mouth.
The CIM animal and the FD datasets family decided to have an outing to Shankarpur. Polar and Sudu did the mail rounds, the Confused hanuman had all the funds,Gogo persuaded us for an AC bus and Sayantan books the accomodation and we were off on 2 September 5.00 PM after the UK friends did their very best to 'gift' us a timely delay. Luggages were packed in, so were we and the bus screeched itself out of its inertia.
The journey begins
Everyone waited for some one to start off something. No one did. Shatadru started playing his mandolin and Sayantan joined it with some folk songs. Shatadru was in 'undrunken' drunken mode gibbering all kinds of nonsense out of thin air. I wondered how he would look when he was actually drunk . Then the brains of analytics began on some lateral thinking ventures. A wide range of scenarios were uncovered from the heart breaking "He ran into the corridor" , the mysteriously melodramatic "The music stopped and she died" and the gross yet touching "Albatross sandwich" .
Then the real action started- Antakshari. I cant call it singing .I chose action for a lack of a word to describe the screaming we undertook to send shock waves through the bus. So action it is. It was boys vs girls and by that itself you must now that is not much of a competition is it? and won hands down. Aditi and Gargi notably among the girls gave quite a fight and tried their best. They were at their innovative best as they conjured quite a few unheard songs( some I suspect dont really exist) and unbelievably novel beginnings to suit the need of the hour. however Sayantan and Anshul were the stars and they pinned them down with songs ending in 'ra' and beat them to submission.
The next usual suspect as a time-killer for the 5 hour journey was Dumb C. Gogo then made a grand entry into the 'The gender struggle" scene with a challenge that you will never guess this in a hundred years. The look in Aditi's face said it all. There were a few fireballs in her eyes as she accepted that challenge. Of course they found it eventually after irking Gogo to repeat the name a 100 times ! Soumyaa was in her usual " Main kaun hoon? Main kahan hoon?" form at remembering names and her forgetting 'Teenage mutant ninja turles- The secret of the ooze' was the last straw in gogo-camel's back.
Dumb C ended without any knockout punch for both the sides. However in the final analysis I could award it to the girls on points. The females did prove their expertise at dumbness! Men cant really beat them at that can they? They just have too much practise and spanning many a generations...
With scores 0-0 between the two gladiator teams, we reached Shankarpur at 10 pm, ravenous and drop-dead tired. We barged into the eating house ( mess or restaurant- what ever you wish to call it) with our luggage. The place was not exactly visually aesthetic and the insect circling over the food was quite disconcerting. However the delightfully delicious food combined with a hungry monster growling in our bellies, we would have been in some " khooni panja" guest house with vultures instead of flies and we would have barely stopped the satiating transition from hand 2 mouth.
April 28, 2006
Jaiguru M. (B. Tech , MBA)
As I penned down my final answer for the Buyer Behavior exam,Finally the pregnant moment bore down onto my preoccuppied mind. I paused the onslaught swift swishes of my pen on the exploited paper. The innocous instant verily metamorposed into an abrupt burden on my unwary soul. The next few lines effectively could be the words signing the conclusive treaty for the twenty protracted years of academic battle. Nay ! not a battle , It was a war.
I smiled inwardly at the thought, at once filled with a feeling of spontaneous relief and a pang of guilty regret. Relief because I was done with theory . I was finished with those dreaded exams. Regret because the fun and play was over. I now was to enter the big bad world of corporates. I had to stand on my feet and take responsibility for my action. Those comfortably hypothetecal games of B Schools would soon recede from my existence like dim lights on a fast highway only leaving behind whirling debris of memory.
( B Tech, MBA)
20 years passed me by , only to possess this rubric of 9 letters in my artillery, sharpened and focussed , for me to rise to fight this karmic war. All for this moment.
Life had taught me so much more, yet it only defined the person who is known by a name I was given on birth.Whatever I made of my life here on were to be my choices. To make money or to save lives was to me.
I rose from seat, submitted my paper and took a long look around the class. Taking a deep breath I savored the moment . My destiny beckoned me. Then I turned to look towards the open door and left the exam hall.
I smiled inwardly at the thought, at once filled with a feeling of spontaneous relief and a pang of guilty regret. Relief because I was done with theory . I was finished with those dreaded exams. Regret because the fun and play was over. I now was to enter the big bad world of corporates. I had to stand on my feet and take responsibility for my action. Those comfortably hypothetecal games of B Schools would soon recede from my existence like dim lights on a fast highway only leaving behind whirling debris of memory.
( B Tech, MBA)
20 years passed me by , only to possess this rubric of 9 letters in my artillery, sharpened and focussed , for me to rise to fight this karmic war. All for this moment.
Life had taught me so much more, yet it only defined the person who is known by a name I was given on birth.Whatever I made of my life here on were to be my choices. To make money or to save lives was to me.
I rose from seat, submitted my paper and took a long look around the class. Taking a deep breath I savored the moment . My destiny beckoned me. Then I turned to look towards the open door and left the exam hall.
April 11, 2006
6.Scarlett Love
My peers find it amusing that I have got upto reading " Gone with the wind" so late in my life. I guess love stories never were my interest and for a long time neither were girls. I was one of those sweet dreamers whose minds were ever meandering through its own depths( I am the only person who seems to hold that illusion of an introvert nowadays) .
The tale talks of three ways of how love is approached through its protagonists: Ashley, Rhett and Scartlett.
I can hardly relate to Ashley and his weak mindedness. I would act and face the consequences rather than fail to give a try. The things we regret the most in life are the things we didnt do. The times we refused to chase our dreams, the times we were too proud to say sorry, the moments of truth we chose to ignore. Trying and failing gives you the moral strength to accept life for we did our best. That life had different plans for you is a different story. Yet people so often refuse to take the magic step and follow their dreams.
Some of us wear this mask of invulnerablity to prevent getting hurt. Even Rhett Butler with a " Devil may care" attitude is still unable to tell Scarlett that he loves her fearing that it will make him vulnerable to her.
Scarlett on the other extreme is a typical beautiful girl who has guys drooling all over her but unable to find love. She is so obsessed with Ashley that it blinds her to the fact that Rhett is the one for her. Her lovefor Ashley is in fact an the obsession for one who simply cannot be attained. As the story turns out the charm disappears. When she finally gets him, she doesnt want anymore and turns to Rhett.
Rhett though is strong enough to walk away since he feels that there is no pride in mending a broken mirror anymore.
The wise say that it is always smarter to marry some one who loves you rather than some one you love. Scarlett realised that.. like most people...a bit too late.
The tale talks of three ways of how love is approached through its protagonists: Ashley, Rhett and Scartlett.
I can hardly relate to Ashley and his weak mindedness. I would act and face the consequences rather than fail to give a try. The things we regret the most in life are the things we didnt do. The times we refused to chase our dreams, the times we were too proud to say sorry, the moments of truth we chose to ignore. Trying and failing gives you the moral strength to accept life for we did our best. That life had different plans for you is a different story. Yet people so often refuse to take the magic step and follow their dreams.
Some of us wear this mask of invulnerablity to prevent getting hurt. Even Rhett Butler with a " Devil may care" attitude is still unable to tell Scarlett that he loves her fearing that it will make him vulnerable to her.
Scarlett on the other extreme is a typical beautiful girl who has guys drooling all over her but unable to find love. She is so obsessed with Ashley that it blinds her to the fact that Rhett is the one for her. Her lovefor Ashley is in fact an the obsession for one who simply cannot be attained. As the story turns out the charm disappears. When she finally gets him, she doesnt want anymore and turns to Rhett.
Rhett though is strong enough to walk away since he feels that there is no pride in mending a broken mirror anymore.
The wise say that it is always smarter to marry some one who loves you rather than some one you love. Scarlett realised that.. like most people...a bit too late.
April 5, 2006
The search for Abhimanyu
The moral dilemma
- Hassles for the unencumbered mind
I was painstakingly trying to collect my thoughts to update this blog and in comes CHurchil striding into the lab. With no preamble, riding roughshod on my private thoughts, he exclaims “ We have nailed Nilotam. He is waiting for us in TB. I squirmed at the thought of having to make that trip to Tata Bearings. The last time we had been there the road had been so gruesome, my bearings and ligaments had many macabre tales to tell. We got lost twice in the labryinth of routes, I call it a Chakravyuha.
We had to get the refunds for the project we had done last year. Churchil exhorted me to leave immediately. I however found my mind reluctant to leave my blog. I was then getting into the groove reining in an interesting train of thought. With a few on-the spot excuses ready to serve, I loaded my mind to fire at him. However the look in his eyes preempted my aggression. The poor chap was literally pleading with me.
- Demands of an oppressive world
I felt like a reluctant Arjun being exhorted by
“Oh well, each man has to stand up someday and face his responsibilities “ I told myself. I shook off the lethargy that placements had imbibed in me. I am doing this for Churchil , poor guy . However a small voice from deep within me countered me by saying “Honey, you smell money and it is that smell that is leading you by the nose.” I cursed that all knowing truth ringing voice for without it I had been feeling so noble.
- Courage under fire
I decided to pick the gauntlet and fight for all that I am worth. I assuaged Churchil’s burden by announcing my allegiance to his crusade. My dramatics apart (which made him squirm), he seem to be pretty relieved about it.
The only available one was Jigha's Khatara . Jigha is our close friend Ishan called Jinx or lovingly as Jigha for his abiliity to put a voodoo on any competitive match he comes close to. His bike and its condition were equally foreboding but we were persuaded by the lack of options. I gave him my cycle keys to compensate for his loss of transport and we hurried to the cycle stand. It was 6.30 pm and the light was already beginning to fade. I was sceptical about finding our way once it was dark. But with true entreprenuerial spirit and a zest for conquering uncertainly we rode with no fear in our hearts. We managed to take the right left turn after the Puri Gate which instilled in us the confidence of an out-of-form Kaif who has taken that evasive single to finally get off the mark after a dozen quack-quack ducks.
The road was a familar horror and Churchil happily hurled out a string of his patented expletives like "the egg of a bull ". I was a picture of concentration as I anticipated each bump like a seasoner warrior and jumped up a few inches to save myself the impeding pains.I was relieved that I still found the scenery around vaugely reminiscent to the 6 month old imprints on my memory. Soon however we realised that somehow we had deadened up to a dead end. The smirking pan walla had the vile pleasure of a bullying teacher whipping a kid as he showed us in detail where we had gone wrong. It was then I reminded Churchil cleverly that this was the same wrong way we had taken last time round. No wonder it was so familiar.
4.A hero named Atticus Finch
A father explaining to his children the hypocrisies in life is the unlikely hero of " To kill a mockingbird" and a memorable one at that. Some books inform you of what is , others give you a different perspective , a new pair of lenses to see this world ,still some others simply entertain you. This was one of those rare books that simply touch you. A feeling of guilt seeps into your consciousness and you realise that somehow that feeling of self consciousness has made you alive again.
Atticus Finch is the Gandhi mould of a hero - gentle,bespectacled, understanding yet very determined. The book describes him as a simple man who one day is made to fight for the ideals which are dear to him and the dignity in which he redeems himself. While doing so, he guides his children through their discovery that evil does exist ( even in those close to us). The trick though is not to bow down to it nor embrace it , but accept it as a fact that there is work for us to do. No need for violence, no need for aggression, but a single minded determination to preserve the innocence in our hearts - The Mockingbird
Somehow as the picture of the family unfolded in front of my eyes ,I felt an uncanny resemblance to Mani Ratnam's Anjali. There is the same normal family living a normal existense which suddenly finds itself in a sticky scenario. Events unfold which threaten to move it away from the comfort zone and challenge the core values that society holds them ransom to.
3.Last months of a dream
Two memorable years in IIT come to an end in a month's time. There is anticipation of starting off a promising career. There is also that twinge of disappointment that my dream of studying in IIT is ending. Thirty days to go and there is so much I want to do. Do I slog over my books and redeem the last month of 18 long years of education with a topping of sudden sincerity?Or do I while away my time sweating it out my passions in the outdoors of the hallowed grounds? Do I become a photographer a la CRR capturing moments to cherish? Or do I chase my dream love flowering in a distant city? MY mind is a mess of indecision. I know not what I should do. It is the end of six years of hostel life, will I miss the uninhibited active life or will I cherish the security of living in a house for a change ?
A job will bring the joys of independence , so people say . I am not sure I want the responsibility that comes as part of the deal.
I cant find words to express this moment Nonetheless I can sense its significance. It says that the boy has become a man. I simply want to say I wish I were a child.
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