Are we smarter than our phones?

So, I type this out in full fury, taunted for not owning a smart phone, which in turn makes me the not so smart types too. Fury? Yes. Girl 1 has been growing up with one, girl 2 managed to buy one last year, girl 3 keeps buying one after the other, girl 4 considers it a status symbol, girl 5 has always wanted to buy 1 since Steve Jobs arrived, and girl 6 has been eating my head to buy 1 now. And where does it all take me to? The world in your hands? Common, now. That tag line goes with every other gadget around. No offence meant, but how many smart phone users would ever claim to have bought one for the need for it, rather than the want for it? And as for every second thing, your neighbours tempt you into buying one. Beyond Whatsapp, Facebook, Twitter and Gmail, there are a dwindling number of users per application. An application for every other thing. You never know, for tomorrow there could be a smart phone application to know your neighbours, too ;) for that’s what the so called leaps in communication technology have caused- an irreversible gap in our real world social lives. 9 upon 10 heads in a group are bent down tapping their time away. (And the one left out is me, if you dint know :P) Dependence on gadgets has become the order of the day. Every day things-to-do are now thrust into the application. Life becomes easier, girl 6 says. But, was it tougher? And have we become smarter at all? Darwin’s heart would have ached to pieces. Get a phone, and seem smart. Sigh. Thats the take home lesson for the day. Of course, my first investment with my salary would be- no brownie points for guessing! 

Love- is it? ;)

Misleading Title :P Almost two and a half months into the city of Mumbai. And am I really loving it? Probably.

Shopping- as random as can be, as and when I feel like, no matter the denominations in my purse. Duh. Hill Road, Zindabad!

Get back home ALAP (As Late As Possible :P) and no worries- walk down the roads, free and unmindful, I swear, even when the clock nears midnight, where ever you are, in Mumbai. (I dont deliberately hang out late. Its just that I need not rush through my outing ;))

Eat out- (Now thats possible any where, but still, I am any day partial towards Relish and Pritam :D)

And when the city life aka Mumbai Madness eats you up, (Living off high rises, hustle bustle and the October heat), head off right away to Bandstand or Marine Drive. Now, thats where the city compensates for its Madness factor :P

Finally, when u choose to go by Public Transport, there are 4 possible ways out- Trains (where the city is kind enough to have 3 entire Ladies ONLY coaches; else the General compartment = Bhaad (Hell in Hindi)); Auto Rickshaws and Taxi Cabs (Where I bless the drivers whole heartedly for making use of the meter- saves time debating over the rates as in God damned Chennai) and finally the BEST (Bombay Express State Transport, I guess) Buses, with a frequency similar to that of a Bollywood commercial movie minus the songs;)- but thats fine, the first 3 options would do I guess. (BTW BEST is BrihanMumbai Electricity Supply and Transport :P)

And I (from a girl's point of view) DO NOT draw long stares from those hopeless roadside Romeos even across the stingiest of streets; I DO NOT get greeted with hoots, whistles or cat calls ANY WHERE. (But Men are Men, says my inner mind, and I am completely okay as long as they are going about it with out the slightest of sounds)

Of course there is the chai-mein-dooba-biscuit effect of rains (Meaning the city looks like a biscuit soaked in Tea during Monsoons), the irritating October Summer and the Mad rush at eateries and restaurants (So much so that once u re done with eating at CCD, the guy literally shoos u away- Mumbai mein jagah kum hai, Madame :P. No gossip past eating here :(. And not to mention the PDA (Read Physical Display of Affection) at Marine Drive and Bandstand. Sigh.

Still. I wonder why. Or rather what- Probably because of my kind of life there- I am loving it! Mumbai!

Ganpati Bappa Morya!

And here I type in, on the day of Visarjan, or rather the day of bidding farewell to Ganpati, Mumbai's untitled Don. One fine saturday nite I had planned to go visit Siddhi Vinayak, the emperor of this tightly packed city. And then, going by my room mate's suggestion, we decided to go for the 5 30 Arthi the nxt morn. As usual, a hurried start. And we made in time just to hear the gong go, and only to realize tat der wer 500 plus devotees between us and Ganpati. Tats ok, I told myself. So far so good.
As the crowd moved on, and we got nearer to the main deity, I was eager to see what made Him the all powerful. And finally, through the characteristic Mumbai Madness, there did He stand, in all his might; early Sunday morning- and there He was- Majesty, Glory and Bliss personified. As usual, as it goes in any much thronged Temple in India, there were Security Guards heaving people off. I bade Him Good Bye, and promised to return some other time, post-Visarjan. As we made our way out, there was this feel of calmness within. And that really did make one happy Sunday morning, indeed. And now I knew why He was the emperor around here- in a city like Mumbai, where there is a rat race for breathing space, only He can give that out of the world feeling of calmness:) Ganpati Bappa Morya!

Away from the maddening crowd:)

A tired Saturday evening, back from a double lab session apart from so much of fun and laughter amidst processing sauce, ketchup and coffee, I was about to hit the bed. And, Neha, my room mate, (The name stays around me :)) called me along for THE Trip- to Lonavla the next day! Yay! I was super excited. I have always wanted to travel, but never been able to :(
And the day happened. Neha, me and Suma- started on our 'trip' with all broad smiles as we got down the lift:) Lucky enough to find seats in the train, I went along totally clueless. And as the train entered Lonavla, it was bliss indeed. What a visual treat! The weather was so cool; and my mind chucked all its worries and doubts way behind. Our first stop was the obvious- Vada pao and chai! Whats a trip around Maharashtra minus the Vada pao! And then we went around from dam to dam, big ones, small ones and so on, and yeah! The Water Falls! OMG! To just stand there with super cool water beating so fast against your feet- eternal bliss. I dint wanna get out of it. Finally- Shooting Point! Standing at the tip of the cliff, the cameras clicked away, and the air was filled with the scent of Hookah wallahs from behind us ;) How blessed I was with a pair of eyes and intact vision to look at Nature in her complete glory! And we moved on to a similar valley, so full of fog, and so full of mist; as we sat on the cliff, at the edge again, it drizzled- and the moment was Oh-so-perfect! I just wanted to freeze the moment! If only I could hit Pause :(
As it drizzled, dew drops settled on our eye lashes and eye brows- No words to describe what ecstasy I went through. And finally, we wound up Lonavla with some Chai again.
Now, over to Khandala- It wasn even Lonavla-ish; Just a couple of places that made you feel you were standing in the balcony of your apartment. Wonder what ever made Aamir Khan ask Rani out to Khandala! ;)
Finally on our way back- The crowded ride back to Maddening Mumbai- I thank Neha and Suma for that trip of a life time- Nature's glory, our getaway; and for making the trip as memorable and lovely as can be.
So, when you have a hell of a week, all worked up, but want to get away from the maddening crowd, and the city's hustle and bustle- give your mind a break, your eyes a treat, and your life time a memory- Lonavla it is!

And it actually happened!

Mumbai. Meri Jaan. Madrasi Mumbai Pahunch Gayi. Sigh.
When every thing you actually wished could happen, but dint seem to happen, and finaaly, when the doors seemed to shut, and hey! it actually happened like that! What a feeling. No words. Indebted to Him.(Excuse me, H is capitalized, and Him = God) Like never before. Some how zeroed in on a Master's in India. And I happily gave the GATE Exam in full pitched soaring temperature. Not knowing what I was writing. Some positive force, a culmination of my mother's prayers over the decade- pushed me and gave me the spirit and strength to write it. I was half dead with fever. I made my mind up to accept the results the way they were.
Results were ok. Happy I had managed to qualify despite the damn fever. Then googling for Universities started. Either the course was not of my choice; or the college. I sighed again. Then some random website quoted the list of Univs that people sought through GATE; and that was not a complete Database again; still I okayed myself and started going through the list. I zeroed in on 3 Colleges and 4 courses- 2 colleges no chance of getting in- I knew; I still did apply for the sheer pleasure of applying in there :-P and the third was were I am in. Again, here, 30 seats for one course; and 10 for the other; with reservation ruling the roost and me coming under outside state quota, no hopes at all. The 30 seat wala seemed probable; I applied for both though- just in case. Another entrance exam for 30 seat wala- with 500+ applicants- Gosh! God damn the population! And the result- Name in wait list. Woosh- the suspense lingers on. 10 seat wala course seats filled- huh; my dream course; so let it be in my dreams. Why does fever love me? :(
Then came the moment. 2 vacancies in 10 seat wala- 38 candidates called for counselling. Ok- let me try my luck. Opportunity has arrived at my doorstep. I come all the way- baggage et al, prepared to settle in, in case; and the classes were already on. And the moment happened- Pavitra K ( I am the southie with out the surname ;))finally got admitted. And her dream course is happening. A huge sigh of relief indeed.
As I type in, I wonder how much life has changed for the better over the past week. Hope I learn enough for life, and my Hindi gets fine tuned, too :-P
Its one blink that takes to change your world, indeed.

Its official.

Finally, I made it to the Grand Yellow Robe ceremony- as one of my Juniors put it:) Ever since the announcement was made for the Convocation, lots of mixed responses- I dont want to attend, I dont wanna travel, I'm not interested. Man, its my degree, and I am going there- people to be met (read hugged), casualities to be exchanged and moments to go nostalgic about- I am attending it.
Nothing really great about it, my University loves complicating matters, and some really couldn make it, for which I felt bad; and some dint turn up- Thats alryt :| And finally- the robe ceremony happened. A previous day stay at an old friend's place- I planned it out with her because I wanted to catch up with her like really a hell lot; we relived a lot of moments and spoke our hearts out- never was a night that peaceful as I slept with those thoughts. And the customary trip the next day to Coll from Trichy- and ya, gossip updates :-P
Post registration- the waiting- interspersed with "Hey you! Really long!" between great bear hugs; some forging the past between them and getting together- Sigh! Why is every thing seeming nice at the end? Then the procession and seating, followed by further gossip update sessions- for a moment my Under Graduation Degree seemed important :)
Inspiring speech sessions- for once my University had some thing memorable to do with us- APJ Abdul Kalam- Whatte man!
And then the 'epic' moment- Degree on stage; Congratulations, Hand shakes and hugs off stage- Awww. LOL.
And then came the moment I waited for- I had actually gone all the way only for those two Angels in my life- Brindha and Ramya. Post the ceremony, I waited to meet them- and finally realised something- these were the sisters I never had. The moment I saw them, every thing flashed past- Introducing ourselves as senior-junior room mates in third year, to just waiting to meet up on Convo. God bless them with every thing, I say. They love me for what I am, and they make me feel special. Being loved is the bestest feeling in the world, apart from being missed, I say. And one tight hug between us did it all- So is their charm. Both of them have been through enough in life, and I simply wish them peace of mind from now, and I so miss being with them and that very room, too. A couple of hours between us, and finally again, a Good Bye between us- I hate send offs, and being sent off, too. Separation aches. Really. And as I walked past the main gate- some thing mattered more to me than that very degree in my hand- tonnes of love between us- Love you both, all time; I wish I could freeze the moments between us that day.
I thank God for all their love; and hope we prosper in life.

And it really is over

Yes it is. It really is. And I am not going back there. I keep repeating this to myself time and again. Until the feeling sinks in. The whole of four years moved swiftly in the blink of an eye. And it gave a new me. A whole new, happy and relaxed me.
I still remember the very first moment the whole idea of a hostel stay sprung up in my mind. I always had a feeling to stay in a hostel for at least once in my lifetime. And it really happened.

First, a big thanks to my mother for suggesting applying to SASTRA. I dint give it a second thought since the day the admission procedure was announced. I was happy that I got to study a subject of my choice, will and wish-- "If Engineering, then only bio tech" was what I had planned. And on hearing facts like Bio tech was going to be an amalgam of chemistry and biology, my only passions since school, it made me happier. I looked forward to an experience with a wide variety of people from all places.

Getting back from counseling, setting things for the hostel stay, getting to know some one’s some body doing some thing there, phone calls, time management at home and waiting with all the excitement- it was fun from day 0.

And then moving into my allotted room for first year- an 8 in 1 room- was looking forward to having fun with 7 others. Initial days were nice. Every one was new to each other, people dint intrude much into the other one’s space, even the tasteless mess food seemed delicious in the company of people, it continued to do so until the end; and eating became an event to celebrate with noise and gossip in the mess in the days to come by.

“Ragging”, or rather bullying; scurrying up post dinner with lights turned off to pretend we were asleep; all to avoid those seniors banging up at the door in the name of bullying (They were supposed to be kind hearted- they never troubled the sleeping souls); the don’t-go-to-the-canteen-library-tifac core-alone –or-as-groups-of-girls advice being said n no of times by every senior who ragged us in the hostel (“Beware! Guys will rag you!”;-)); being “summoned” by those seniors for ragging sessions in their rooms, watching people smitten by home sickness all around me; looong talks with people at home, each living moment was new. It got newer. And then the anti ragging sessions, things getting serious, staff intervention, and finally some relief. We dint have to pretend as if we were asleep any more. The visitors’ weekends were full of parents in the hostel lawn- “You got tanned. You have lost weight. You look dull. Eat well. Study well. Pray every day”. Regular casual statements those parents normally issued.

Waking up “Early”. Rush hour to stand in the wash room queue. Again, fights there. Seniors intervention, sorry intrusion, at a place that was never theirs. Stares. Long stares. Hurried dressing up. Waking up the others. Some who took all the time in the world to dress themselves up. Some who dint bother to bathe and attend college classes. The ones that slept thro the first hours. And when bunking was an issue. LOL.

Slowly and steadily room mates got to know each other better. Eating at the canteen was bliss. Browsing was exciting. Good night came in at around 1 or 2 am. Random barging into neighboring rooms. Talking endlessly despite language barriers. Things were fine.

The first open holiday back home. Train journey. The Trichy halt that became customary in the trips that followed. Getting back to share experiences at “Home”. And not to forget innumerable birthday celebrations at the hostel- when getting older seemed significant. And ideas sprang up to celebrate some one’s birthday.

Slowly problems started creeping. Real faces were unveiled. Jealousy. Vengeance. Back biting. And that taught me lessons for life- Beyond a point, give each one their space. Knowing too much of a person really complicates things between you both.

Exams were, actually, not bad. No travel tension. Studying was much better than how it had been at home, at least for me.

The first year was good, actually. People spent the least time with their mobile phones, no time with their laptops because they never owned one, less time online, and lesser “commitments”, and finally there was enough socializing.

A lot of lessons came my way; I knew the real people, I realized how mean people could get, I also realized how nice people could be. And yeah, your room mates need not always love you, they need not talk to you, they have their priorities, they might group up together ignoring you, and they will use you as much as they can, its up to you to make sure you are not used much, and you will always be a matter of sarcasm to them- in short, you will be their object of making fun at. But, you must never change. This must never let you down. It’s just that they are unsocial. It’s not your fault.

Staying with people who hate you- can strengthen you for life, you know.

Second year, Entry into the department, not knowing any one much, accidental room mates again (Not again!), adjustments, again, adjustments. Enduring the same first year room experience. And all the show off around you. (Gosh when did she change so much! Does she even remember how she was in the first year? Huh!) New faces. New people.

Now it was lesser revelations about people. Because laptops, mobile phones and the like occupied centre stage.

Finally third year. Time to rejoice. My close friends were with me in the same section
(Must forget all the glitches, hiccups and problems that I encounter with the online room registration and online section registration each semester. And a big thanks to those who helped me then. Sigh!) A new room with four other juniors. Bliss. Realization- Room mates can love you. Room mates can socialize and share with you. Room mates can regard you. Rom mates will accept you for what you are. There was enough fun- experimenting with cooking. Food. Movies Music. And there was the space we never wished to enter in each others lives.
Finally final year. Responsibilities. Questions and question marks about the future. (They still remain unanswered). Feeling of leaving. Separation and its pangs. And what’s more, new friends, newer experiences. Placements. Project. And the pain of not getting the hostel block I wanted. That very block where 3 years went by- the busiest of all blocks. Where all my memories lay within those bricks. Rather all our memories. Where people kept moving by, making noise all the time, and it gave you a feeling of standing in the middle of Chennai’s busy Bazaars. Sigh

And the last semester. Sending off your friends. Bidding good bye. Controlling emotions. Crying back in the room. That jittery feeling that rekindled your memories when ever you went past their empty rooms. Slam books. It was never customary to write one. But still.

Sitting at home, although there is utterly delicious food, and uninterrupted Internet, I still miss the eating sessions, be it at the mess or the canteen or Canopy; the roll call hustle bustle, trips to home, studying, movies, music, the lawn, the chit chat sessions, times with day scholars during weekdays, gossip updates, the wi fi, cooking, weekends, late nights, later mornings, and above all, the random smiles and hi-byes across the corridors. And of course, all the lessons learnt. The list is always endless.


And finally vacating. With the hypothetical feeling that I am on a long holiday and will get back to that place to stay among 3000 others; and my mind not coming to the point that I am not getting back there. Never again. Sigh

A saga, a legend

Pitch fever soaring. Palpitation rules every Indian heart for obvious reasons. I am not all that a sport analyst; but I bleed blue though. Light blue, with the shades intact. Beyond all the sensation and pressure on Dhoni's boys, there stands one enormous soul- do I need to tell the name? I will, cos I love doing that- Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. One reason why I need to accept the fact that cricket is a gentleman's game. Indeed Sachin it is! Quantifying his sporting career is a mammoth task for a statistician. Assessing and analyzing it- no words. I do not want to argue over hypotheses like 'Sachin- God of cricket' and so on. It’s a personal opinion. I do not patronize the game unlike many of my fellows here. I am not against patronizing it either. Yet, to someone like me, Sachin is one living legend. He is a phenomenon. He has lived a saga between the stumps. This is not just for the numbers that his career equates to, but for the morality that he has always stood by, despite glory masking him all through. His polite refusal to endorse a liquor brand- how principled is he! My words are nothing new. There is more to him than to awe in inspiration at his numbers; or to wonder over the fact if anyone can ever beat his numbers. The dignity that he brought to the team. The spirit with which he puts every run into the score. The way he handles such an enormity of fame, success and glory. The way he untiringly bats for the tricolor. Test. ODI. T20. Still the common man's delight. From the streets to the gallery.
As a tendency, in my opinion, we as a nation love to crib. For a change, he never let us do that in his case. And let’s stop fussing when he takes a break in a match or two. Don’t the rest of his feats over shadow this? For someone who has been through 6 World Cups-- win or lose-- the mental grit to face balls of all kinds-- man it definitely takes a bloody hell lot to be Sachin!!! Let your glory shine through, let the pitches that saw you at your best continue to lie wide in your fame, let those bowlers behind your runs cherish their share of moments, let those butter fingers that missed your wicket grin sheepishly, and let the generation that grew up watching the very you, always continue to look up to you as ever, and finally let the tricolor glow with pride at the very mention of you!! As Wankhede waits with fingers crossed, as the nation breathes heavily, man, only 2 words for you-- Jai Ho!!

Am I seeing the end?

And finally, the end is "coming soon". Like an Indian movie trailer. Leap years make it once in four years. And the end here too. Day 1 seems just like yesterday; it feels like I started talking and moving around like just now; and the end seems just like tomorrow. These four happy years, I learnt a lot; taught a bit; smiled a zillion times; waved hi-s and bye-s incessantly; moved on, dried my tears up; laughed my lungs out; chattered non stop; hugged as tight as tight can be; observed around,and finally realised how much mental maturity this place around has given me; how much I have got moulded in the process. I have never felt ungrateful for this part of my life; and will never be. The n number of people and the happenings with them- could have never happened other wise. All good things get over like that- as is always with life. Normally every thing seems nice at the end- but mine seemed naaiiicee since the beginning and nicer as time went by. For those who have bothered to stay back since scene 1- Louwe ya. For those who walked out- Good riddance;) and thanks, you made me strong; thanks for the space; in case you wanna get back, sorry I cant be the same. For the ones who popped in midway- Yay! Fun! :) And there is sure more to come.
P.S. : Sequels to this dumb post are intended. Your patience is requested and appreciated:)

Try try never say die

I have heard enough of this. And you definitely must have, too. And I experienced a bit of this, very recently; that’s what is making me write this, and making you read this, too. Oh! Enough of this and that!

Life is full of chances. That one chance you take can become your opportunity. Each one of us has a destined place; not any one can really take it away from any of us. I would not call it fate; to call it fate would mean to bow down to some thing too trivial in the face of a human ability. Destiny is what decides when chance turns into opportunity; and it demands patience, patience and plain patience from one’s side. To wait patiently simply means to look further into one self; to concentrate on one’s own inner strength and most importantly, not to think of the others around who made it (which is very tough). Each one of us is definitely no way less than the rest; or no way more either. It is just that time is on some body’s side as of now, and will soon be on ours too. No one’s life can be a total failure either; success and failure are matters of moments alone. Hope, as I repeat as said in one of my earlier posts, is the driving force of all our lives, and this hope should intensify with each set back in life. Each step back is an indication that some thing better and bigger is in store; some thing nicer will turn up; or probably destiny has other plans. Each bad experience should strengthen one up mentally, and the ultimate result then attained would be sweeter than the one got as expected. Each day is a new learning experience; and if not for the rejection and dejection my past has given me, I would not have learnt so much- not even so much as to write this. Would you?

Most importantly, a set back actually shows you your real friends; and nothing more than unmasking a faking friend, isn’t it? When life hits out, do not swoon down; instead get up fast and start fighting. A battle well fought is relief in itself. Believe in yourself; stop looking around (consequences might be bad; I forewarn) and start fighting! Success is not the mere absence of failure; it means winning the war; not every battle.

P.S. Long boring sermon; I know. :P

Food :(

I miss my gestation. Sigh. Food is scheduled here.
Monday morning = Idly (Stones I can pelt at some one I detest) or Bread toast. (Surface area of a slice = that of a standard Milk Bikis biscuit). Bread is actually delightful.
The morning coffee:
Procedure: Milk (99% water + 1% milk) is taken in a large vessel; a small drop of decoction is added. The instant the color of the milk changes to coffee brown, upon the addition of a few micro liters of decoction, stop adding the decoction; add lump some sugar to cover up.
A similar story follows up for tea. And the schedule goes on with a time table for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And yeah, the evening snack, that could at times throw up surprises in the form of cakes and buns: P and not to forget the monthly price tag 
And the result, strong adaptation of the stomach to digest any thing; acceptance of the mind to remember that not all food is good; and adjusting of the biological clock to eat when ever the source of food stimulates the olfactory senses. Most importantly, mastering the skill to cook any thing and every thing with just an electric kettle (Thanks to Philips Electronics) and to experiment with all plant parts to cook. Sigh! 

Change?

Change is the only thing that is permanent in life. I am probably the nth person saying this. I keep telling this to my old plain self when ever I make umpteen plans, and things seem bright and sunny, and then what was not expected to happen, goes on. Sigh! This is just change, on a daily basis; but there are people who change like ‘that’, for life. Being in a hostel, I am blessed (I forget Amma’s food when I say this) to be around n number of people, and it’s for this experience of being with people of all kinds from all the possible corners of the nation, that I say I am blessed. From a very personal opinion, I have been observing people, their life style, thoughts and opinions. Friendly, ignorant, dominating, submissive, the adjective list is endless to describe them. Some have been around since day 1, till today, and that’s when I get ending up certain small jerks. Friends who were gone ‘missing’ one whole year, are suddenly on Face book with you, then the smiles resume, and I don’t want to ‘take revenge’ by ‘not bothering’. You smile, I smile back. You talk, I talk back. You don’t talk or smile or wave a Hi, huh? Duh. It’s not my fault. And people at the end of this ‘resuming’ friendship give me little jerks, or rather big ones.
Not only with respect to community living like a hostel, I end up getting jerks because of people I meet after a certain period of time. They are like this and that now, like “My father blah blah blah... Always says this... And I do so... Blah Blah Blah... I am principled, disciplined... “And all these words are hidden beneath their words. I meet them later, and My God! Life style changes, attitude or rather ego, over the head thoughts, just formal exchange of words with me, because, now, they presume they are going ahead, while I am still right down there. Because they do certain things and I don’t. I feel like I should have caught the past on a camera, and must show them now and ask, “And what does your father say, and what do you do”? Why even talk as if one is a person of principles and qualities, and then take a total turn “influenced” by surroundings? What purpose does the up bringing by parents hold, and what principles do they even stand for? Only time can teach them a lesson. I still wish a lot of people can go back and be the same old self they were when I met them first; I share a lot of memories with that “self” they were; and I am missing them now. All I want to do is to probe into their minds and find out the how, why, when, what and which of their “change”, and to just tap them one on their heads with a magic wand and bring them back to their old selves. When I realize I can’t, I just wait with hope, and end up writing here.
Yawn! I slept through the writing myself; and I pity you reading this: P Thanks anyways!

True Blood

Note: The following post is not about the television series by the same name.
Note again: It is strictly based on certain life experiences; any co incidence with the reader’s experiences is always open to discussion post reading.

Blood is thicker than water. Duh. Spank the guy who said that. I will trust sayings and proverbs only when I experience what is said. This means the above quoted words will never get into my head. Money is heavier than blood and water, you see.
Family. What does this mean? Or rather, what is it meant for? It’s the values you stand by, for the people you stand for. Blood and genes unite us all, and there is some source for a life time for every thing you depend upon. Emotions. Love. Happiness and sorrow. Peace of mind. Faith. Trust. And finally, the driving force of all our lives, hope. Friends are around for these too, I cannot deny that, but its always special when blood gets you that. Festivals arrive in their true spirit, celebrations and get togethers are always special with “Family”. Now, when some one doesn’t get to experience all this, it ends up in a post like this one:( Its absolutely not a personal fault, for missing out on some special moments as these. And I don’t ask God (?) the customary “Why me?” either. I just say, “Hope so, some time soon”:) And I also thank destiny (The strongest force in life) for the wonderful people in my life, for giving me moments I might have missed out otherwise. These wonderful people have given me enough of every thing in life, and I hope it doesn’t stop. Now, I would call each of them, “My Family”, although blood doesn’t unite us, for friends would be an undermining term for all that they are to me 

P.S: Hope so, some time soon:)

Where are we heading?

Pre script: Analysis of the write up right underneath might cause differences of opinion, for which the author (:P) doesn’t hold responsibility.

Am I staying back, or are the people around me moving ahead? There are a dozen stories each day into my ears on ‘first experience’ with drinks, and so on. There are people who take a whiff (I hope you get it) that apparently blows their worries away. I still wonder if that can be replaced by better options. Partying. Pubs. The discotheque. Noise. All to forget worries and distress. De-stress mantras in times of distress. It still keeps me wondering. Why? And why do we need them? Are we so stressed out, that we are burdening all the world’s worries on our shoulders? Are we planning conspiracies on aliens that we go in for the so called de stressers when we feel saturated?

If I were to blame any thing for what’s happening, I would point it right to the face in the mirror. We shut ourselves in cabins, scurry behind money, yearn for luxury than comfort, ‘socialise’ strictly through online sources and pack tight schedules. The mobile phone is competing with Oxygen, and computers with water, in our priority list. And then we end up saying we feel lonely, left out, vexed, and freaked out and so on. And end up depending on the just said sources. Chemical substances that apparently ease our minds better than people.

How many of us just smile at our random acquaintances? How many of us have had those long talks and walks with our pals? When there is a deep inner strength within (I am not preaching), when what lies within matters and makes sense, why depend on some thing external or synthetic for emotional strength, and what’s the point living one’s age.

Let’s live wise.

P.S. Refer Pre script. :P

Its all numbered

Duh. Its such a quantified world. The place around is obsessed with numbers, positions, marks (Sigh), percentages, scores, runs, goals and so on and so forth. Some people fail to see beyond the scales. A performance is not analyzed, instead it is assessed. Why is the world around such a numbered place? If some one stands first, it simply doesn’t mean that he or she stands above the rest. It just means he or she has done some thing slightly better, but just for that moment.
Life is all a matter of moments. If the moment is yours, then you get into the 1 2 3 thing. And each person has his or her own share of moments too. Its about how well you handle your moments in life, and how much you mature with each experience. Its not about victory or loss, instead about experience. Only an experience can make you more more human, and not quantifying things. A complete human being is one who can handle both victory and loss with equal ease and effort. So, better not bother about who says what on your performance, or who pictures what about you; instead compete with yourself, make more and newer mistakes, and learn more.

P.S. : Some constructive criticism, please. 

Be your judge

Some time ago, I had a very interesting conversation with an acquaintance and it made me think- why is the world around judgmental?

The first meeting with a person makes umpteen questions cross our mind- and judging begins from the moment conversation strikes. Apart from the rebuttal, a lot goes into noticing every detail, spare the judging and the analysis after he or she takes leave. Some look into the life style too, and further, worse turns arrive. Probably, we are getting too nosey as human beings, and too bothered into what is with the other person. When the victim seems to do better at certain aspects, there is the fault finding session. Did some one tell us that we as human beings are a perfect lot??

A life style is what each one has the right to choose. Judging people by the kind of music they listen to, or the kind of books they read, or the kind of people they associate with, is down right stupid. A person’s values need not reflect in his or her tastes, or in his or her opinions, or the choices. We must learn to accept people, rather than assess them. At the end of the day, what matters is the people in one’s life, not the kind of people, or their choices.

Life is a wonderful path laid in front of each one of us. Whether we choose to walk, follow, run, skip, hop, jump or sprint is in our hands. It is better not to waste time looking into what the other person does and how, but it’s good to do it along side some one.

P. S.: Sorry if the write up was bad. L

I- Me- Myself

This post is put into words through a human process, with (strictly) no intentions.

‘Self’ seems to be a very irking concept these days. Poor beings fail to differentiate between being oneself, and being obsessed with oneself. In a social gathering, one gets to notice a bunch of such a kind everywhere. There is the self made compulsive nerd in a class room, the over reacting enthusiastic employee, and so on. Its high time these creatures realized that other beings exist, and are equally worthy too. This bunch of muggles just wants to get noticed, and get attention too. It’s the worst thing ever when that nerd kid gets more than what it deserves, curbing the rest of their shares too. There are days when your fingers just go like that, trying to just hold your Nerdy back, but you know you can’t do any thing about it, and just have to keep mum.

So whats with this whole ‘self’ thing? Up bringing might be the reason, I tell myself and chill. How do such thoughts or self made assumptions creep into an almost similar structured human brain? Putting deep thinking aside, let’s get to the point. Its part up bringing and part self made assumptions. It would be really high time such self obsessed gits got one big ting-ting on their heads so as to open their eyes wide, and realize that the others existed too. And by the time that time came about, there would be another bunch of losers giving another head ache. Duh. Human beings. J

Kya Kama(a)l Hai!!

So here are a few words for the unsung hero of Cinema, the man who can make one just drop a jaw in awe for a professional cinema lover, and so on and so forth—Kamal Hassan.

Kamal is no star, I repeat, Kamal is no star. He is an actor, a seasoned actor, who doesn’t give a damn to what his ‘contemporaries’ do- market oneself or endorse a brand. Never would one have noticed him in a commercial advertisement for a product; and if my memory is to be trusted, it’s just for causes that he stands by. His fan clubs have been made as welfare clubs, he doesn’t flaunt his brand new automobile, nay his filthy expensive mobile phone. Each of his expressions is a reason to celebrate. He goes to the extent of tweezing each tiny muscle of his face to show what he means. His eyes can emote poetry. And I am writing no romantic story here!

Kamal is one thorough pro. He can essay any role with ease- be it the sharp n sensible police officer in Vettaiyadu Vilaiyadu, or the devoted tiny tot in Kalathur Kannamma, or the philosophical man in Anbe Sivam, the list is endless. Each and every movie of his only leaves your jaws wider apart. And whats more, he can croon, he can take a jig, move his body as though made of rubber, and what not.

All of us always expect some thing at the end of the day for what we do. Even if we hate to admit it, we do it. That way, for this man, I don’t know what will be enough. I might sound exaggerating due to the fact that I am a fan of him, and sorry for that.

P.S: My first attempt at writing on a celebrity, so sorry if my writing let you down. Wish me better luck next time, please.

How deep?

A colleague of mine had recently gone in for a ‘Hair Iron’. (??!!). God! All that I thought was ‘Iron’ was a term associated with setting right creases in cotton fabrics. And now, it is about doing that to your keratin-melanin strands. I am just hoping that God doesn’t end up weeping for this. Eye brow pruning is like the order of the day. I would be termed a misfit to those who are into it. A pair of short hairs to prevent sweat into your eyes are being tweezed and clipped and what not. Will this even matter when it comes what all one means as a person and what life means, at the outset? Why is there an obsession with looks? Does the human race need it? And a few of them call it ‘grooming’. This quest for that much ‘groomed’ look makes one at times end up like a plastic doll. A face that is the very index of human emotions ends up looking like a painting on the wall. And thanks to media, ‘stars’ are on a roll for their fake looks. They would do better business if they replaced the statues at Tussauds. 

Some people take immense pleasure in flaunting their ‘looks’. And some seriously have a problem in complimenting another person. Probably I am seeing more of this as I am amidst people who tend to be self obsessed and image conscious at a certain age; or because I am not like them. Life is a multi faceted four lettered word. It stands for the virtues and principles one upholds. And hopefully not for the iron and wash that goes into it.  I only hope there will be a change in mentality among such people, and they will start seeing the world with a better conception of things. And they say that beauty is skin deep. If people could give a second thought, there would be enough conservation of energy, time and money.

Zoobi Doobi.. :)

Long time since I came by, I guess. With loads of things happening around, got lots to go Zoobi doobi about. :D. Aamir's 3 Idiots is going great. Thank goodness at least some one had the heart to portray the hell around Indian Engineering. Duh. Thank Aamir. (Although 'm a die hard SRKian). 'm now joining the list of people taken over by the idiots. One look at the trailer, and I was like, Aamir and Madhavan trying to be 17?? No!! And screen adaptations of books dont work that well. Rajkumar Hirani made that a joyful ride with his apt adaptations. And the movie finally came out. I dint bother about the part if Aamir or Madhavan looked 17 or not, they are just themselves on screen. Rancho is that kind of a guy all of us would like to have around us. Live life Rancho style, and that would mean life, I thought. But Rancho says, live life your style, and that would mean living. The movie is a hilarious joy ride, that wakes us up, just to tell us, "Follow your dreams, and only yours." Follow not the crowd. This is definitely a message for all of us. Its nothing new, but it does matter and mean a lot to us. Kudos to Kareena, as the nerdy medico and as the professor's daughter, she has done a wonderful job. And has doubled as Rancho's sweet heart too. Nice pair, different one and a good relief from Bollywood's romance-is-always-in-the-air-and-is-a-magical-feeling concept. The love story part is realistic for a change. It is acceptable. And yeah, not to forget the Zoobi doobi part. Lol.
Every college has its share of ViruS. Professors who are such a pain in the neck do exist. They need a special screening of the movie. There will be a huge sigh of relief across the nation. 3 idiots might seem to be a regular Bollywood movie to some, but the message is well said in a manner with the times. Madhavan seems to be maintaining a low profile, except for his narrating thats nice, and all of a sudden he sweeps you off with the scene where he convinces his father. Uh! He makes your jaws drop in awe, and you stand there. Lovely one. Sharman Joshi does a neat job, as the lower middle class guy, shouldering the family's financial burden as an up and coming Engineer in the making. Omi Vaidya aka Silencer is the ultimate nerd in every college. He deserves a pat on the back for his acting. Yawn.. Wake up if my writing put you to sleep!! Sorry.
So, not knowing how to wrap up, I say All Izz Well, and you get another chance to grow up once again, from millimeter to centimeter. Thanks for reading. Zoobi doobi zoobi doobi.. :)