(Genre: Semi-Autobiographical Fiction, Warning: Long)
We had met earlier.
That was on the train going home. We didn't "meet" really. She came to the compartment I was sitting in, to meet a family she knew. From their conversation, I understood she came from the same town as I did, and was doing an MBA in Delhi - that was rare, and hearing that, I looked up from my book. I could see only her side profile - she looked nice. She was wearing a fairly conventional sweatshirt and jeans. In a minute, she left and I returned to my book. I didn't even know whether she had noticed me.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of some spare time will fantasize about the girls he meets. I have spent countless hours daydreaming of a life with several different girls, some whom I might have only spent an hour with. There is just too much of Bollywood in me to resist it. But coming back to the story, in this case, there was nothing to go on with, I hadn't even seen her face. So, I had to return to my book.
Three weeks later, we met again.
I was going back to Delhi, as was she. My parents had come to drop me as had hers. As it turned out, they knew each other, and our seats were in the same compartment (this is not such a coincidence actually, the business community in our small town is pretty well-integrated, and all seats from a particular station are booked in the same compartment). I didn't recognize her at first - didn't have much time to.
We were supposed to catch a connecting train to another station, where we would board our train to Delhi. Usually, it is a simple affair - we catch a train at our station, and it drops us at the other station in 30 minutes or so, with more than an hour to spare. But, on this day, due to the fog, the train at our station was delayed, and the onward train was not. So we had to take a cab.
I quickly went outside, bargained with a driver and came back to pick my luggage. By this time, like all self-respecting small town businessmen, our parents had agreed that the two of us would share a cab, to split the cost. "Pretend that you know each other so as to not arouse the driver's suspicion", her father laughed. I smiled politely, paid my respects and left. She was already on her way to the taxi.
We got in. I smiled at her, she smiled back. She was not bad to look at, darkish, well-rounded face, and big eyes. Slightly plumpish, but as Snoop Dogg would say, "I like ma woman with sum meat on 'er". Some pockmarks, but a very nice smile and an overall pleasant look. I asked her what she did - an answer I already knew. I told her what I did. She was impressed, I was glad that she was. She asked me about my job, I asked her about her studies. I had my practised lines ready, and they rolled off smoothly. We smiled a lot, and laughed a few times.
I have this habit of advising people on matters concerning their careers. It is almost an addiction, a bad one since it makes me appear condescending, and I have tried to kick it several times, with sporadic success. This time, however, I waited until she asked for some advice. And then, I was short and to-the-point. Evidently, it was good, since she asked for some again on a different matter. I thought, "Wow! This girl likes to hear me speak."
We reached the station with an hour to kill. I got some moongfalis, and we continued our chit-chat. She asked me about my job; I talked about it for a while. We talked about the economy and its impact on the job market. The train arrived and we got on.
Besides us, the compartment had two elderly couples on their way back home and a middle-aged man. We settled down, and were quiet for a while. I took the opportunity to analyse her. She was nice-looking, was a good conversationist, but what I really liked, was the smile. It was full, and was completely participated in by the rest of the face. And most importantly, she showed it often enough in my company.
It was almost two and we decided to have lunch. She opened her pack, I mine and we shared our food. She confessed she didn't know how to cook, I said all I knew was dal-chawal and khichdi, adding a while later, that I could do pasta too. In this way, it continued, I don't remember half of it. We finished our lunch.
We talked of movies, I said I was really hoping to catch Ghajini and Oye Lucky Lucky Oye, she said she had seen Rab Ne... and hated it. She had always been in South Campus through grad and post-grad, so we talked of South Delhi. I said I loved going to Priya, she said she hated it. "Because it is so full of guys", she said. I disagreed, but kept my opinion to myself. She loved going to IHC and Dilli Haat, and even though I thought IHC was too pretentious and Dilli Haat too cheesy, I smiled and said I liked both the places, but had been there only a few times. That got her enthu, and she went on for a while about them.
By this time, we were both feeling sleepy, and she said she had been awake till 3 the night before searching for some papers. I got the hint, and suggested we lie down for a bit. We climbed on to our respective seats, and I said sheepishly, "Good night". She smiled.
When I got up, it was 6:30 PM. I looked at her, she was still asleep. I read for a while; and heard her get up. I didn't react, she got down and was busy for a while. After a while, she called me, "Come down". And I did.
We continued talking, among other things, about common friends in our town. Both of us had left several years back, and people whose names sounded familiar and whose faces were a blur, were brought into the conversation. We talked of our town and the changes it had undergone, and what the future heralded.
She was smart, and well-articulated. With most girls, my conversations have been very monologue-like. Either I go on and on, or am too tongue-tied to speak. With her, it was different. I waited my while to speak, she did too. I was funny, and she laughed. There were gaps in the conversation, but were broken naturally. It was comfortable.
It grew very dark. We had our dinner. After a while, the lights were switched off. The train was due to arrive in Delhi at 5 AM, and the entire train went off to sleep for the night. We tried to continue talking, but slowly became aware that we were disturbing others. Then she asked if I wanted to watch a movie; I said, "Sure". And she took out her laptop, and a pair of earphone. I browsed through her laptop, and came across South Park. I looked at her incredulously. She smiled, and said she had just started watching the series and loved it. I grinned.
We started watching Season 3. She had one earphone and I had the other. I was very aware that we were next to each other shoulder-to-shoulder, but she was comfortable, and slowly I forgot too. We laughed silently and kept watching one episode after the other, finishing the entire season. By that time, both had started feeling drowsy and the laughs had become infrequent. I suggested we go to sleep, and she agreed. "Good night, sweet dreams", I said.
I couldn't fall asleep. In all these years, I have hardly "clicked" with anyone. Most chances have been disasters, and even the few that went ahead turned out to be false alarms, eventually. I blame myself for it, sometimes the person overawed me, sometime the occasion did. But mostly, it was my own nature. Regardless of what I truly thought I was like, I came across as insensitive, creepy, dishonest, and it pained me. So, I had given up trying; resigned to let my parents find some girl for me, whose life I would probably go on to destroy.
But now I decided to retake the initiative. I would ask this girl out. I liked her, she didn't seem to despise me. I would wait for the right moment in the morning, and do it. Maybe, I could drop her to her hostel, and arrange to meet again. It could be done, why not!
And on that note, I went to sleep.
I woke up and looked outside. It was very foggy. It was 5, but the train was nowhere near Delhi. It had been delayed by a few hours. She was up too. I said "Good Morning", and we exchanged information about the train's delay. We figured we were about 4 hours late. Good, I thought, I have more than enough time to make my move. We busied ourselves for a bit, before settling down again.
She asked me what my future plans were, and I told her the truth, that I didn't have a clue, but wanted to do something good, and leave a legacy. I asked her about hers, and she said, she always wanted to run a shop, maybe get into retail now. I also said I wanted to travel a bit, and see the world. She said loved Pune and wanted to settle there.
We had refrained from discussing our personal lives as yet. I didn't have anything to say, and for some reason, was loathe to ask her about hers. I would find out eventually, anyway.
We had a bit of namkeen and biscuits. The fog was still thick but the train was making good progress, and we neared Delhi. I decided to make my move.
"How will you get to the hostel?", I asked.
"Oh! Don't worry. I'll get there", she said dismissively.
"Oh!, but I can drop you if you need me to. It's on the way", I said quickly.
"Well, I have a friend coming to pick me up", she said slowly, and smiled.
"Oh!". I got the message.
"Haven't spent 5 years in Delhi for nothing, have I?", she said and smiled.
To say I was hurt would be wrong. I hadn't invested any emotions in it yet, and the only feeling I had was the one similar to seeing Australia defeat New Zealand in a close match. Stacked against odds, to come so close and lose. That's the kind of feeling I had. I recovered quickly.
"Good", I said.
"Yeah".
The train pulled in. We exchanged good-byes and I rushed out. We didn't even exchange phone numbers or email ids.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Sunday, November 23, 2008
If The Doors of Perception Were Cleansed...
A pack of six was pretty expensive, equivalent of Rs. 900. There were three of us, and we had two each. After 5 minutes, we came back to the shop - and I, in my oh-so-polite voice asked,
"By when should we start expecting an effect - nothing is really happening right now".
"Oh, I takes 35-40 minutes for anything to happen"
The three of us looked at each other, shrugged and left the shop. We came to a conclusion that we had been duped, but well, there was a drizzling snow, the marketplace was very crowded and in a while, we cheered up.
N went to get some fries. I didn't have a good feeling in my stomach, so I barely had a couple. We had been walking all day, and I was tired. For my sake, we trooped to the station looking for a waiting room. We staggered into a self-service cafe and selected a strategically positioned table where the cashier couldn't see us. Amidst chitchat about what to do if they ask us to leave for not buying anything or whether it is smart to call attention by getting just one cup of coffee, I put my head down.
I don't know when it started - but I remember feeling the voices of people around me all merging together in a song. There was English, Arabic, some French, and it all blended in a musical. And then there were the images - animations, cartoon of hills, cafes, my college, beaches and more - I don't remember a tenth of it. I got up and slurred:
"Guys, it is happening"
S looked at N and shrugged, "Atleast not to us." N added, "You are just tired. Rest for a while".
I didn't care much for their skepticism, and put my head down. And man oh man, I went through something amazing - there were animated versions of people I knew - my family, my friends, all the girls I liked but couldn't tell, some people I barely knew when I was 5-6, and me in various places, transformed into a cartoon. And best of all, it was all smiling, and nice and good memories. I tried to control the thoughts and take them in particular directions but they wouldn't yield. I quickly gave up, flowing with the ebb and tide of my visions
I think it was on for half and hour, before we had to move to catch a train. And in there, I couldn't stop laughing; I laughed till my jaws ached - actually. I had quietened down by time the train stopped.
We changed a train for home, and a couple came and sat next to us. The wife was around 60, hair bleached a weird pinkish red, heavily made up and with one of the most exotic pair of glasses I had ever seen.
I now know what the word serene means. That is what I was then.
N went to sleep, but I and S got to talking to her. She was a Chinese American, with an Indonesian husband living in Europe. We talked of Obama, and the coming to power of the right-wing parties in Europe. I told her about my political views - that I was a nationalist liberal, and she asked me to explain it to her. I started, - about the issues facing India, about the terrorism menace, about the need for a more hawkish foreign policy, about historical injustices, and then I suddenly started feeling very foolish.
Was what I was talking of really making so much sense to me either - wasn't it all labels, and propaganda and my opinion v/s someone else's. And who was I to have the right to say my opinion or ideology was better than anybody else's. Did I really need to push my view on to others.
And so I stopped. Instead we started discussing cinema, and music, and she started telling us about her life and experiences. It was a very very pleasant conversation, went for the better part of an hour, and her husband sat smiling quietly. I was almost as happy as I have ever been.
I never really loosen up (and that's another thing I worry about :)). Alcohol has never really helped - it just fogs the brain and most times, I have ended up looking very silly or sick - sometimes both. But this was different - I felt as if all the rough edges had been smoothed away into an even cadence.
It went away in a few more hours.
S said, "Do you want to go back and get some more? You know you won't get them after December 1st."
But I knew I didn't want any more. I had understood what it meant to be there, and I hoped I could be there on my own.
I just smiled and shrugged, "Doesn't matter".
"By when should we start expecting an effect - nothing is really happening right now".
"Oh, I takes 35-40 minutes for anything to happen"
The three of us looked at each other, shrugged and left the shop. We came to a conclusion that we had been duped, but well, there was a drizzling snow, the marketplace was very crowded and in a while, we cheered up.
N went to get some fries. I didn't have a good feeling in my stomach, so I barely had a couple. We had been walking all day, and I was tired. For my sake, we trooped to the station looking for a waiting room. We staggered into a self-service cafe and selected a strategically positioned table where the cashier couldn't see us. Amidst chitchat about what to do if they ask us to leave for not buying anything or whether it is smart to call attention by getting just one cup of coffee, I put my head down.
I don't know when it started - but I remember feeling the voices of people around me all merging together in a song. There was English, Arabic, some French, and it all blended in a musical. And then there were the images - animations, cartoon of hills, cafes, my college, beaches and more - I don't remember a tenth of it. I got up and slurred:
"Guys, it is happening"
S looked at N and shrugged, "Atleast not to us." N added, "You are just tired. Rest for a while".
I didn't care much for their skepticism, and put my head down. And man oh man, I went through something amazing - there were animated versions of people I knew - my family, my friends, all the girls I liked but couldn't tell, some people I barely knew when I was 5-6, and me in various places, transformed into a cartoon. And best of all, it was all smiling, and nice and good memories. I tried to control the thoughts and take them in particular directions but they wouldn't yield. I quickly gave up, flowing with the ebb and tide of my visions
I think it was on for half and hour, before we had to move to catch a train. And in there, I couldn't stop laughing; I laughed till my jaws ached - actually. I had quietened down by time the train stopped.
We changed a train for home, and a couple came and sat next to us. The wife was around 60, hair bleached a weird pinkish red, heavily made up and with one of the most exotic pair of glasses I had ever seen.
I now know what the word serene means. That is what I was then.
N went to sleep, but I and S got to talking to her. She was a Chinese American, with an Indonesian husband living in Europe. We talked of Obama, and the coming to power of the right-wing parties in Europe. I told her about my political views - that I was a nationalist liberal, and she asked me to explain it to her. I started, - about the issues facing India, about the terrorism menace, about the need for a more hawkish foreign policy, about historical injustices, and then I suddenly started feeling very foolish.
Was what I was talking of really making so much sense to me either - wasn't it all labels, and propaganda and my opinion v/s someone else's. And who was I to have the right to say my opinion or ideology was better than anybody else's. Did I really need to push my view on to others.
And so I stopped. Instead we started discussing cinema, and music, and she started telling us about her life and experiences. It was a very very pleasant conversation, went for the better part of an hour, and her husband sat smiling quietly. I was almost as happy as I have ever been.
I never really loosen up (and that's another thing I worry about :)). Alcohol has never really helped - it just fogs the brain and most times, I have ended up looking very silly or sick - sometimes both. But this was different - I felt as if all the rough edges had been smoothed away into an even cadence.
It went away in a few more hours.
S said, "Do you want to go back and get some more? You know you won't get them after December 1st."
But I knew I didn't want any more. I had understood what it meant to be there, and I hoped I could be there on my own.
I just smiled and shrugged, "Doesn't matter".
Sunday, October 26, 2008
No Country for Young Men
His name was Jasbeer. He was from Gurgaon.
We had gone to a Sardarji's shop to figure out the cheapest place for getting a haircut. We were chatting about the fallen bridge at the Metro construction site in Delhi when he entered. The Sardarji pointed out to him and said, "Yeh lafanga le jayega tum ko". We left for a coiffure.
I told him I had been in Gurgaon for the last two years. That got him started:
"Where in Gurgaon were you living?"
"DLF Phase V"
"That's the one near the malls, or is it DLF Phase III"
He asked me the usual stuff around girlfriends, had I had any action, how the city had changed and so on.
"Tujhe pata, hai, aane se pehle main teen mahine tak roz Convergys ke paas mein jo dhaba hai wahan jaya karta tha. Jo ladkiyan aati thi, unhe chhedta tha, nahi aati thi to doston ke saath maggi khaake wapas aa jaya karta tha. Maa bhi kuch nahi kehti thi, kehti thi bas abhi to bahar jaa hi raha hai, thodi masti kar le"
And, what happened then?
"Main study visa pe aane ke chakkar mein tha. England jaana tha mujhko. Visa pe UKraine likha tha, mujhe laga UK ja rahe hain, wahan pe raine kar ke koi shahar hoga. Woh to jab Russia mein goron ki jutiyan padi to mujhe samajh mein aaya"
He was in a Ukraine prison for a year, and then slipped over to Poland, then to Germany and Netherlands. He had spent almost a year in a Dutch prison before slipping over to here.
"Jail walon ne pahadi pe le jake chhod diya, aur kaha bhag. Maine do din tak bin kuch khaye piye do pahadiyan chad kar Ukraine paar kiya"
He was working on a construction site here, work he had seen labourers do when he rode his scooter on the Gurgaon streets. Says, he knows the in and out of construction work now, would be very useful in Gurgaon, once he is able to get back.
And when is that, I asked.
"Yaar, abhi to do saal lagenge. Kaafi karza hai sardaarji ka. Woh chukaunga aur plane ki ticket lunga. Phir jaunga. UNO/Red Cross papers ka intezaam kar dete hain"
There were tears in his eyes,
"Yaar, main 21 ka tha jab main nikla tha, ab 26 ka ho gaya hoon. Ek saal tak ghar walon se phone pe baat bhi nahi ho payi thi. Main to zyada ke chakkar mein bilkul diwaliya ho gaya. Ab bas ghar wapas jaana hai, aur aaram se apne bistar pe sona hai."
"Yeh desh apne liye theek nahi hai. Apan to wahin pe achhe hain"
We had gone to a Sardarji's shop to figure out the cheapest place for getting a haircut. We were chatting about the fallen bridge at the Metro construction site in Delhi when he entered. The Sardarji pointed out to him and said, "Yeh lafanga le jayega tum ko". We left for a coiffure.
I told him I had been in Gurgaon for the last two years. That got him started:
"Where in Gurgaon were you living?"
"DLF Phase V"
"That's the one near the malls, or is it DLF Phase III"
He asked me the usual stuff around girlfriends, had I had any action, how the city had changed and so on.
"Tujhe pata, hai, aane se pehle main teen mahine tak roz Convergys ke paas mein jo dhaba hai wahan jaya karta tha. Jo ladkiyan aati thi, unhe chhedta tha, nahi aati thi to doston ke saath maggi khaake wapas aa jaya karta tha. Maa bhi kuch nahi kehti thi, kehti thi bas abhi to bahar jaa hi raha hai, thodi masti kar le"
And, what happened then?
"Main study visa pe aane ke chakkar mein tha. England jaana tha mujhko. Visa pe UKraine likha tha, mujhe laga UK ja rahe hain, wahan pe raine kar ke koi shahar hoga. Woh to jab Russia mein goron ki jutiyan padi to mujhe samajh mein aaya"
He was in a Ukraine prison for a year, and then slipped over to Poland, then to Germany and Netherlands. He had spent almost a year in a Dutch prison before slipping over to here.
"Jail walon ne pahadi pe le jake chhod diya, aur kaha bhag. Maine do din tak bin kuch khaye piye do pahadiyan chad kar Ukraine paar kiya"
He was working on a construction site here, work he had seen labourers do when he rode his scooter on the Gurgaon streets. Says, he knows the in and out of construction work now, would be very useful in Gurgaon, once he is able to get back.
And when is that, I asked.
"Yaar, abhi to do saal lagenge. Kaafi karza hai sardaarji ka. Woh chukaunga aur plane ki ticket lunga. Phir jaunga. UNO/Red Cross papers ka intezaam kar dete hain"
There were tears in his eyes,
"Yaar, main 21 ka tha jab main nikla tha, ab 26 ka ho gaya hoon. Ek saal tak ghar walon se phone pe baat bhi nahi ho payi thi. Main to zyada ke chakkar mein bilkul diwaliya ho gaya. Ab bas ghar wapas jaana hai, aur aaram se apne bistar pe sona hai."
"Yeh desh apne liye theek nahi hai. Apan to wahin pe achhe hain"
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Trois Couleurs
The Good
I was walking down the street looking for an electronics repair shop. The malls are probably not the best part of town to look for one but that's the only market I knew. I had been walking for the better part of an hour and my feet were beginning to drag. I was also very hungry; breakfast had been bread with jam and it was now 2 in the afternoon. I saw a waffle shop on the street to my right and decided to try one. It was only an euro and a half. The first bite burnt my upper lip, but I didn't notice - the taste was exquisite. I devoured the entire thing as quickly as my lips would allow. Then, I got up; there was a spring in my step. I did manage to find the shop eventually :)
My flatmate came home early and we decided to cook dinner (I mean he did, I mostly stood and watched). Rice was no major issue, and we cooked dal too (procured from a Punjabi shopkeeper at ridiculous prices). And then he said, "Chal tadka lagate hain". I peeled and sliced the onion and tomato and we got the spices and the entire mixture on the frying pan, smelling heavenly. It was amazing - the best dal-chawal I have ever eaten. Today, it'll be my turn - I plan to have a pretty heavy lunch :D
The Bad
We haven't gotten an internet connection at home yet. We are getting unsecured wireless from some office near our home - but it is unreliable and erratic. I went to a center of the the office-approved ISP. After waiting for an hour and a half, I was told that it'll take 6-8 weeks to get the connection. Why this delay? Due to backlog of orders, unavailability of staff etc. Till then, unsecured wireless it is!
One would imagine that in times of the credit crunch, banks would be more than willing to accept new savings a/c. But no! I can't open an account till I get a rental agreement made. What about the fact that my flatmate has the rental agreement and my office is willing to furnish a letter saying I live where I live. That'll not do. So until then, I am getting my money transferred to my friend's account.
One would have it so much easier with these things back in desh. Am really surprised by the bureaucracy - didn't expect it.
The Ugly
It is next to impossible to have savings of the kind we have in India, in the West. The ratio of expenses required to maintain a certain standard of living to salaries is very high here. E.g. - Rent is upto 30% of salaries in many cases. And of course, people can't afford domestic help. Therefore, it is completely understandable why shorter working hours are required. When a guy gets back from work, he needs to cook his food, clean his house, get repairs etc that are needed around. There is no khana bananewale bhaiya or kaamwali bai here. Also, there are no 5 Rs. paranthes, or 10 Rs. DTC bus ticket, or 150 Rs. shirt you can get here. I mean the variation in living standards is very low and there are no low cost alternatives to many things.
We got some (actually a lot) of furniture from IKEA and fixed most of it over the weekend - 2 cupboards, 2 beds, 2 tables, 2 sofas, 1 shoe-rack, and a couple of chairs. We have 3 chairs remaining, which I guess I'll do over today and tomorrow. Having not worked with my hands in a long while, it was pretty tiring. I made many errors, cut my finger once, and broke a chair. Also, tried cooking and burnt the khichdi (and ate it nevertheless).
Am having the truly authentic firangi experience, I guess :)
I was walking down the street looking for an electronics repair shop. The malls are probably not the best part of town to look for one but that's the only market I knew. I had been walking for the better part of an hour and my feet were beginning to drag. I was also very hungry; breakfast had been bread with jam and it was now 2 in the afternoon. I saw a waffle shop on the street to my right and decided to try one. It was only an euro and a half. The first bite burnt my upper lip, but I didn't notice - the taste was exquisite. I devoured the entire thing as quickly as my lips would allow. Then, I got up; there was a spring in my step. I did manage to find the shop eventually :)
My flatmate came home early and we decided to cook dinner (I mean he did, I mostly stood and watched). Rice was no major issue, and we cooked dal too (procured from a Punjabi shopkeeper at ridiculous prices). And then he said, "Chal tadka lagate hain". I peeled and sliced the onion and tomato and we got the spices and the entire mixture on the frying pan, smelling heavenly. It was amazing - the best dal-chawal I have ever eaten. Today, it'll be my turn - I plan to have a pretty heavy lunch :D
The Bad
We haven't gotten an internet connection at home yet. We are getting unsecured wireless from some office near our home - but it is unreliable and erratic. I went to a center of the the office-approved ISP. After waiting for an hour and a half, I was told that it'll take 6-8 weeks to get the connection. Why this delay? Due to backlog of orders, unavailability of staff etc. Till then, unsecured wireless it is!
One would imagine that in times of the credit crunch, banks would be more than willing to accept new savings a/c. But no! I can't open an account till I get a rental agreement made. What about the fact that my flatmate has the rental agreement and my office is willing to furnish a letter saying I live where I live. That'll not do. So until then, I am getting my money transferred to my friend's account.
One would have it so much easier with these things back in desh. Am really surprised by the bureaucracy - didn't expect it.
The Ugly
It is next to impossible to have savings of the kind we have in India, in the West. The ratio of expenses required to maintain a certain standard of living to salaries is very high here. E.g. - Rent is upto 30% of salaries in many cases. And of course, people can't afford domestic help. Therefore, it is completely understandable why shorter working hours are required. When a guy gets back from work, he needs to cook his food, clean his house, get repairs etc that are needed around. There is no khana bananewale bhaiya or kaamwali bai here. Also, there are no 5 Rs. paranthes, or 10 Rs. DTC bus ticket, or 150 Rs. shirt you can get here. I mean the variation in living standards is very low and there are no low cost alternatives to many things.
We got some (actually a lot) of furniture from IKEA and fixed most of it over the weekend - 2 cupboards, 2 beds, 2 tables, 2 sofas, 1 shoe-rack, and a couple of chairs. We have 3 chairs remaining, which I guess I'll do over today and tomorrow. Having not worked with my hands in a long while, it was pretty tiring. I made many errors, cut my finger once, and broke a chair. Also, tried cooking and burnt the khichdi (and ate it nevertheless).
Am having the truly authentic firangi experience, I guess :)
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Update
Been away from this space for 4 months now. Didn't have much to say - little of the earlier angst is there.
Meanwhile, some cosmetic changes - I have changed the title of the blog as well as the tagline. More in reflection of my current state of being.
Hopefully, will have more to say from now on.
Meanwhile, some cosmetic changes - I have changed the title of the blog as well as the tagline. More in reflection of my current state of being.
Hopefully, will have more to say from now on.
Monday, June 02, 2008
A list of things...
I just completed reading "The Remains of The Day". I had seen this book several times with friends and the only reason I was turned off from buying it earlier, was that one of the friends who had earlier recommended it to me, was someone whose taste I didn't much appreciate. However, a few days earlier, I came across a list somewhere (I am a big one for lists btw), one of those "100 must-read books before you die" kind and this book was right at the top. Suitably intrigued, I got and purchased it; pleasantly surprised that it was pretty light (on the wallet too).
Why do I mention this?
Because one of the lines from the book has stayed with me and I thought it over many times today: "The evening is the best part of the day". To paraphrase, the idea that a man can only do so much and rather than struggling on when incapable, one should let go, leave and learn to enjoy the autumn of one's life. This thought has made quite an impact on me and I would count it to come back to me at various points of time in the future.
Which brings me to some other thoughts/snatches/ideas from other sources which have had a impact on me, on hearing or reading which I am moved even today (even though it might have been years since I originally encountered them):
1. The Shawshank's Redemption's "Hope is a good thing" bit
2. American Beauty's "I saw my life flashing in front of me" sequence
3. V for Vendetta's speech in which he telecasts to London "...words will always retain their power..."
4. Rang De Basanti's "Luka Chhuppi" and "Khoon Chala" songs
5. Several parts of the latter half of "The Crucible" and the last bit in "The Lord of the Flies"
7. The guitar crescendoes in the middle of the songs in "November Rain" and "Wonderful Tonight"
8. And of course, many many scenes from "The Wonder Years"
There are many more, but I guess these are the ones at the top of my head.
Why do I mention this?
Because one of the lines from the book has stayed with me and I thought it over many times today: "The evening is the best part of the day". To paraphrase, the idea that a man can only do so much and rather than struggling on when incapable, one should let go, leave and learn to enjoy the autumn of one's life. This thought has made quite an impact on me and I would count it to come back to me at various points of time in the future.
Which brings me to some other thoughts/snatches/ideas from other sources which have had a impact on me, on hearing or reading which I am moved even today (even though it might have been years since I originally encountered them):
1. The Shawshank's Redemption's "Hope is a good thing" bit
2. American Beauty's "I saw my life flashing in front of me" sequence
3. V for Vendetta's speech in which he telecasts to London "...words will always retain their power..."
4. Rang De Basanti's "Luka Chhuppi" and "Khoon Chala" songs
5. Several parts of the latter half of "The Crucible" and the last bit in "The Lord of the Flies"
7. The guitar crescendoes in the middle of the songs in "November Rain" and "Wonderful Tonight"
8. And of course, many many scenes from "The Wonder Years"
There are many more, but I guess these are the ones at the top of my head.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
One Long Rambling Post
In the few blogposts that I have written previously, most of the time, I have written the title beforehand and then changed it, after completing the post. I don't intend to do that this time.
I indulge in a lot of self-analysis and self-criticism. I like to think that I know very well, my character strengths and deficiencies. There are several "deficiencies" I am secretly proud of. For instance, every 6 months, in my job, I get an evaluation of my strengths, weaknesses and development plan. The latest one says (in the weakness areas):
1. Improve slide-writing skills
2. Improve ability to estimate time required for different activities
3. Be proactive in reaching out to superiors in case, deliverables are not clear
4. Make well-structured spreadsheets that are user-friendly
Now, 1, 3 and 4, I am secretly proud of, and don't intend to change as long as they don't become career-threatening. I personally don't believe in spending inordinate time in making good-looking slides and excels for the benefit of others as long as I know the answer, others be damned. Also, as for 2, I believe in giving myself impossible timelines so that I can make a simple task appear challenging, which might then make it more exciting to me. As for 2, I really hate admitting that I can't get something done and therefore delay going to people as long as I can manage. And am proud of that for my independence.
The above was just an example. In personal life too, I have received feedback around several facets of my character. I don't worry about most of them too much. However, there is something that has and continues to rankle me a lot.
It is that I am very self-involved. Now, this is something I am not at all proud of. Several friends who have known me closely for a long period of time have told me that. My parents have told me that. No, I am not joking. I first came to realise it, when a few years back, my mother complaining over the phone about the fact that I never called her up, said "Beta, tu bada nirmohi hai". At that time, I laughed it off, but to tell you the truth, this statement has come back to me several times.
In 8 odd years when I have been away, I never felt the need to call my parents up, unless I needed something. It is not as if I have something against them. My parents and I have a good understanding and a friendly relationship. We banter and we quarrel and behave like a normal small family (on a side note - now that both my elder sisters are married, I am equal party in all the decisions that are made in the family and since my parents generally end up disagreeing, my vote decides the matter). But I don't ever feel like talking to them - I mean, the thought never comes to my head.
The same goes for my sisters. I don't call them up, I find talking to them a bore. Similarly, I am not in touch with my friends through any of my own efforts. I scrap only when scrapped, and even then, sometimes, not.
I have had strong friendships and my share of personal relationships. When I am with people, I am passionate, worried, happy about/for them. But when I am away, there is no internal voice that tells me to be in touch, talk to someone and want to know what is going in his/her life.
Earlier I would imagine that it was all about finding the right person, and then you would learn to care, and be with that person. But I have realised that it doesn't hold true for me.
Now this worries me, and not a little bit. If I am so insular, what is going to happen to me. Relationships are quid pro quo and without my quid, I won't get any quo. But despite the worry, I can't bring myself to care for people. I mean, I love helping out people. I have the habit of taking people under my tutelage, making them my projects, mentoring them and seeing that they achieve the best. But do I really care for them, I don't think so. Even if those guys were replaced by someone else, it'd be the same.
Therefore, the question is, if one is a self-involved bastard and knows it and wants to change it, but can't bring himself to do something that doesn't come naturally to him, what would one do. Frankly, I don't know.
A few days back, one of my superiors was telling me the benefits of being an "insecure overachiever". I agreed with him, and got what he was talking about. It is "only the paranoid survive" theme. I used to be (and guess still am) insecure, and I don't take too much happiness in whatever I achieve/win. But in the last couple of years, there were several times when I took steps to chill out, you know, enjoy the journey, not the destination etc., but somewhere down the line, I realised that was not me. And I got back to being an insecure fighter.
I mean, I know (even though I hope against it) that I have modest skills and will need to go out of my skin to becoming anything of consequence, and pinning my hopes of happiness on success rather than personal life is a strategy that will fail, I can't bring myself to change. It's almost pathological.
Well, that's my rant. And I take some satisfaction from the fact that I have managed to maintain the title as it is.
I indulge in a lot of self-analysis and self-criticism. I like to think that I know very well, my character strengths and deficiencies. There are several "deficiencies" I am secretly proud of. For instance, every 6 months, in my job, I get an evaluation of my strengths, weaknesses and development plan. The latest one says (in the weakness areas):
1. Improve slide-writing skills
2. Improve ability to estimate time required for different activities
3. Be proactive in reaching out to superiors in case, deliverables are not clear
4. Make well-structured spreadsheets that are user-friendly
Now, 1, 3 and 4, I am secretly proud of, and don't intend to change as long as they don't become career-threatening. I personally don't believe in spending inordinate time in making good-looking slides and excels for the benefit of others as long as I know the answer, others be damned. Also, as for 2, I believe in giving myself impossible timelines so that I can make a simple task appear challenging, which might then make it more exciting to me. As for 2, I really hate admitting that I can't get something done and therefore delay going to people as long as I can manage. And am proud of that for my independence.
The above was just an example. In personal life too, I have received feedback around several facets of my character. I don't worry about most of them too much. However, there is something that has and continues to rankle me a lot.
It is that I am very self-involved. Now, this is something I am not at all proud of. Several friends who have known me closely for a long period of time have told me that. My parents have told me that. No, I am not joking. I first came to realise it, when a few years back, my mother complaining over the phone about the fact that I never called her up, said "Beta, tu bada nirmohi hai". At that time, I laughed it off, but to tell you the truth, this statement has come back to me several times.
In 8 odd years when I have been away, I never felt the need to call my parents up, unless I needed something. It is not as if I have something against them. My parents and I have a good understanding and a friendly relationship. We banter and we quarrel and behave like a normal small family (on a side note - now that both my elder sisters are married, I am equal party in all the decisions that are made in the family and since my parents generally end up disagreeing, my vote decides the matter). But I don't ever feel like talking to them - I mean, the thought never comes to my head.
The same goes for my sisters. I don't call them up, I find talking to them a bore. Similarly, I am not in touch with my friends through any of my own efforts. I scrap only when scrapped, and even then, sometimes, not.
I have had strong friendships and my share of personal relationships. When I am with people, I am passionate, worried, happy about/for them. But when I am away, there is no internal voice that tells me to be in touch, talk to someone and want to know what is going in his/her life.
Earlier I would imagine that it was all about finding the right person, and then you would learn to care, and be with that person. But I have realised that it doesn't hold true for me.
Now this worries me, and not a little bit. If I am so insular, what is going to happen to me. Relationships are quid pro quo and without my quid, I won't get any quo. But despite the worry, I can't bring myself to care for people. I mean, I love helping out people. I have the habit of taking people under my tutelage, making them my projects, mentoring them and seeing that they achieve the best. But do I really care for them, I don't think so. Even if those guys were replaced by someone else, it'd be the same.
Therefore, the question is, if one is a self-involved bastard and knows it and wants to change it, but can't bring himself to do something that doesn't come naturally to him, what would one do. Frankly, I don't know.
A few days back, one of my superiors was telling me the benefits of being an "insecure overachiever". I agreed with him, and got what he was talking about. It is "only the paranoid survive" theme. I used to be (and guess still am) insecure, and I don't take too much happiness in whatever I achieve/win. But in the last couple of years, there were several times when I took steps to chill out, you know, enjoy the journey, not the destination etc., but somewhere down the line, I realised that was not me. And I got back to being an insecure fighter.
I mean, I know (even though I hope against it) that I have modest skills and will need to go out of my skin to becoming anything of consequence, and pinning my hopes of happiness on success rather than personal life is a strategy that will fail, I can't bring myself to change. It's almost pathological.
Well, that's my rant. And I take some satisfaction from the fact that I have managed to maintain the title as it is.
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