“You know, I’m never going to get married”, blurted out J, as I licked off the last of the chocolate from the dripping cone. “Huh!! They all say that, but they finally end up marrying. Trust me, you would be no different”, I reassured the fair, dark haired beauty, my words muffled by the crunchy cone that I was chewing.
Ok, time for some background.
J had been the first girl that I dated, way back in high school and then in the early part of my engineering days. But then, two years down the line, we (rather I) felt that she really wasn’t that “someone special” for me, and so we parted ways. But, the friendship still continued over the years, and in fact had grown stronger over the decade since I first set my eyes on her. She was now “committed” to a 6 feet tall, shoulder length haired hunk who loves her with his life (or so she says, and hence I believe, the last part of the sentence i.e.). Sounds all hunky dory, eh? Well, not quite so. The guy belongs to, umm, let’s say, the minority community as politicians – specially the so called secular ones – refer them as.
On the other hand, J belongs to a family of much respected Brahmins – a large joint family, with a temple inside their courtyard that is well known in the small town she belongs to, just on the outskirts of a city. To make matters worse, she also happens to be the younger sister of a body building freak (with a brain like one too) who happens to be the follower of the saffron party.
So when this cute little 23 year old replies, “Everything is not that easy Sabya, I know one day I might have to choose which boat to put my feet on, and I don’t want to let go of either of the boats”, I wonder for a moment how much the little kid seemed to have matured since the time we used to be together many monsoons ago.
“Don’t worry, just concentrate on your career, stick to this domain (IT, no points for guessing that), next year when I enter, or rather re-enter the corporate world, I’ll pull you through. Rest, let the future take its own course. We’ll discuss this again, its getting late. I have to rush!!”
And thus I separated myself from her for the night and went my way, feeling a bit sad for one of my closest friends, and castigating myself yet again with the fact that had I not broken up with her, things would have been so different. But then, that thought flashes through my selfish mind for just a moment, coz had I not done that, I would have never met …....
Lots have been written about the caste and religion divide that exists in our country. Anything that I add will just seem to be a repetition. But I will still write my two pennies worth.
The country, or rather its people, could never really digest the separation that came as an incentive to independence. We still relate a black burqha clad coterie to be a byproduct of our not so friendly and often back-stabbing neighbor. The atrocities, so well described in “Train to Pakistan” and countless Bollywood flicks have ensured that we always look upon the minorities as foes, no matter which side of the border they belonged to.
I was also a product of the same environment. The Babri Masjid demolition made me rejoice till I was sick, the nuclear test of the 1990’s, so famously coded as “the Buddha has smiled” made me grin from ear to ear. And every defeat to Pakistan on the cricket or the hockey field was a personal loss to me.
But then, that was ages ago. Having developed a habit of reading profusely (thanks to my parents, ironically, coz they will still shut the door on me if I were to marry a Muslim), I now have a much broader view of things. I’d rather think and analyze about the pricing strategy that a major IT vendor should adopt for an I Bank that is its client rather than read newspaper articles which state that the percentage of Muslim population in the country had risen by X %. And, I would be safe to assume that these sentiments are shared by most of the people who belong to my generation.
I can go on writing cliché’ after cliché’, how we are all human beings first, how the colour of the blood is the same, how….. u get my point, don’t you. So I’ll save the rhetoric.
The only silver lining is that today’s generation is much more mature than our parents’, and I’m sure my children would never have a friend who would be in the same dilemma as J. It will be a world where you don’t have to choose which boat to put your feet on, it will be one big yacht where you can just put your feet up and soak the sun.
I am sorry if this post is dangerously teetering on the edge of being a political speech, coz I have no time for the P word. But then, I ask, on behalf of my cherished friend, that if she doesn’t have the freedom to marry the person of her choice, then aren’t we just about as free as the inmates of the Russian prisons in the Siberian desert.
End Note: My parents heave a sigh of relief that i never fell for a girl outside my religion. I consider it to be a personal loss, coz some of the cutest girls i've seen belonged to religions other than Hindu.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
A Place I Called Home
Country Roads
Take me home
To the place
I belong
West Virginia
Mountain Momma
Country Roads
Take me home
John Denver sang out from the car stereo as I struggled to negotiate yet another pothole on the roads of the IT brain centre of the world, Bangalore, while on my way to work.
Having been brought up on a dose of Metallica, GNR and Pink Floyd, American folk music is not necessarily my cup of tea. But Radio City 91 FM had been playing crappy Bollywood music since morning, and rummaging through the car drawer of my brother in law who was sick that day, which meant I could take his car to work instead of going through the ordeal of changing three buses as on a normal day, John Denver happened to be the only person there whom I had heard about.
And as usual, I let my mind wander while standing still in serpentine queues, waiting for the red lights to turn green.
I had been away from home for almost 3 years now, discounting the week long holidays I spent there once in each of those years. The north east, where the virgin blue hills and the red waters of the Brahmaputra blur into each other in the distant horizon, where the people walk with such leisurely steps that you will feel that life goes around in slow motion there, where every sunrise promises a beautiful day and every sunset is a shepherd’s delight. But then, the red water of the Brahmaputra has got redder from the blood of the terrorists, army men and civilians, where the blue hills still echo with the wails of newly wed women, either at the death of their husbands, or because they were being raped by certain army men who were/are even worse than the misguided terrorists, or in most cases, both.
I had always been lucky to stay in the capital city of Assam and the gateway of the North East – Guwahati. There, it is easy for one to be oblivious of the happenings in the interiors. Of course, the newspapers every morning would bring out horrible stories of atrocities, and the retired old men who spent their time reading them inside out in the pan shops would swear that more than half of the stories are censored, but then one could always just shrug and go his way. After all, in the youth of your life, you would still like to believe that the redness in the river was just the work of sediments, and the only sounds that echoed in those hills were of exotic birds and wild animals.
Other than terrorism, the other but equally disturbing bane in my region was that of linguistic divide. However, I never realized the undercurrents till I was away from home. Even though I belonged to a community that had often being the target of mayhem in the 1980’s, stories of which were narrated by my mom to me after she felt that I was matured enough to take in those stories, all my friends were Assamese, and I rather found people who spoke my language to be the progenitors of most of the troubles that took place a couple of decades ago. But then reality struck me hard when the local people and the Bihari workers clashed, and it was difficult to fix the blame on either party. While local girls were brutally raped in front of their brothers in train compartments when the trains passed through Bihar, innocent daily wage earners were massacred in the very farms where they worked in Assam.
And the story continues. And what is the end result? No industries of repute, no companies where one would be proud to work in, a handful of foreign tourists who walk with fear in their eyes and constantly look back over their shoulders, and hordes of intellectual capital who migrate to the metros in search of a better life, away from the filth. And I confess that I belong to the latter group of people.
Even though I’m an optimistic person and very rarely do I not see the brighter side of life, I don’t see the situation changing at all. As long as the political parties, which sit at New Delhi, and the puppet state government that resides in the sprawling complex at Dispur exist, expect no change. Life will continue to move on in the north east, as it has done for three decades and more. It is a part of the life there now, and the people have started to accept the fact a long time back. The sarcastic part of my brain thinks that just because the people there move in slow motion makes them an easier target of the bullets. Read between the last line.
Even though John Denver’s song took me back to my childhood for once, I know that there is no way I’m going back home. Like many other parts of my life, that part will remain as a blur with me till the day I mix with dust. And till then, I’ll continue to be just one of the millions teeming on a Monday morning in the pot-holed Bangalorean roads, waiting for the signal to turn green. Or maybe one of the hundreds in an on-site assignment in a foreign land, trooping off to the nearest theatre showing a hindi movie, even if it’s a Yash Raj Production no-brainer sob story, just because I yearn to hear the language of my land.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Use and Throw
The mid to late 1990’s saw the advent of the “use and throw” era as far as the product market was concerned. This could be seen in the increasing number of such type of ball pens where one didn’t have to buy a refill. Extensive market research showed that the primary users of ball pens, students, had concrete reasons to get attracted to such a concept. Students, like me, were liable to be careless and lose a ball pen just days after its purchase, so it made sense to offer them a single time use pen at a lower cost than a refill-able pen at an obviously higher cost.
But that’s just the tip of the ice-berg when we talk about the use and throw concept, the reason being that this “path breaking” concept can well be applied to relationships as well.
Let us consider the first relationship that an individual gets into outside his circle of family members – friendship. Now aren’t we choosy when we make friends? Damn right we are. It has to be someone who makes us laugh, someone we can trust with our house key when we are out on vacation, someone we can pour our heart out to in case of certain “exigencies”, the latter being a common thing during the growing up age of adolescence and puberty, and just after an year or so into our marriage. So, its not a selfless motive that makes us choose friends – social acceptance is the technical term for it. So, while it is social acceptance that makes us seek out friends, it’s the potential of a good time that we might have in their company that makes us keep them. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Not quite, not yet.
In today’s age of networking websites and the related net-based software applications, social acceptance is not that hard to buy. The internet provides even the introverts among us to let their hair down and gain access into circles that they might otherwise have had second, third or fourth thoughts about. Further, growing and easier access to movies and other literary works allows even those without an inborn talent at humour to be able to pass off wise cracks with relative ease. So, the pool of people one can choose to have a friend from is much wider and broader and deeper than it was a couple of decades ago. Hence, one always keeps on meeting newer people (newer, hence more mystical, and hence more interesting). And it’s easy, as mentioned earlier, to approach anyone and sweet talk for a couple of hours and get the initial access at a “friendship”.
But then, the honeymoon period gets over real fast, say, in a couple of months, or in case of individuals who continue to live in a state of self-denial about having chosen the wrong person to talk to in the first place, even more time to cut away those strings that connected him/her to “that amazing person”. And hence, what you get is a “use and throw” friend, made especially for those among us who are careless enough to choose the wrong person to make friends with.
But what if the “cutting off” isn’t mutual? Problems, you think?? Nah!! Isn’t Man the most mature of all animals? He may miss the other person, shed a few silent tears as well, but a few days, weeks or months later, depending on His maturity levels, He will be back on the social e-network, seeking out newer individuals, and cracking the same old wisecracks all over again to gain attention.
NOTE: "He,His,Him" etc refer to both the sexes, and in certain cases, the third sex as well!!
But that’s just the tip of the ice-berg when we talk about the use and throw concept, the reason being that this “path breaking” concept can well be applied to relationships as well.
Let us consider the first relationship that an individual gets into outside his circle of family members – friendship. Now aren’t we choosy when we make friends? Damn right we are. It has to be someone who makes us laugh, someone we can trust with our house key when we are out on vacation, someone we can pour our heart out to in case of certain “exigencies”, the latter being a common thing during the growing up age of adolescence and puberty, and just after an year or so into our marriage. So, its not a selfless motive that makes us choose friends – social acceptance is the technical term for it. So, while it is social acceptance that makes us seek out friends, it’s the potential of a good time that we might have in their company that makes us keep them. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Not quite, not yet.
In today’s age of networking websites and the related net-based software applications, social acceptance is not that hard to buy. The internet provides even the introverts among us to let their hair down and gain access into circles that they might otherwise have had second, third or fourth thoughts about. Further, growing and easier access to movies and other literary works allows even those without an inborn talent at humour to be able to pass off wise cracks with relative ease. So, the pool of people one can choose to have a friend from is much wider and broader and deeper than it was a couple of decades ago. Hence, one always keeps on meeting newer people (newer, hence more mystical, and hence more interesting). And it’s easy, as mentioned earlier, to approach anyone and sweet talk for a couple of hours and get the initial access at a “friendship”.
But then, the honeymoon period gets over real fast, say, in a couple of months, or in case of individuals who continue to live in a state of self-denial about having chosen the wrong person to talk to in the first place, even more time to cut away those strings that connected him/her to “that amazing person”. And hence, what you get is a “use and throw” friend, made especially for those among us who are careless enough to choose the wrong person to make friends with.
But what if the “cutting off” isn’t mutual? Problems, you think?? Nah!! Isn’t Man the most mature of all animals? He may miss the other person, shed a few silent tears as well, but a few days, weeks or months later, depending on His maturity levels, He will be back on the social e-network, seeking out newer individuals, and cracking the same old wisecracks all over again to gain attention.
NOTE: "He,His,Him" etc refer to both the sexes, and in certain cases, the third sex as well!!
Friday, April 20, 2007
Still a Social Animal?
There is this big billboard across the road from my office that reads something like this:
BACK BY PUBLIC DEMAND
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
EVENING SHOW ONLY
PARENTAL ADVISORY
DON'T BE ENTERTAINMENT FOR YOUR NEIGHBOURS
XYZ JHAROKHA - THE NO NEIGHBOUR APARTMENTS
CONTACT: **** ***** ******* *****
This words were accompanied by a photo that showed the shadow of a girl quite well endowed behind a window screen, i guess taking a bath.
It got my kinda thinking. I was reminded of the good old days of my early youth when I used to have a huge crush on the girl next door. Years later, i came to know that her younger sister had a crush on me, but then, I had expected that all along. Infact, I used to try hard to impress her (the elder one, that is) by riding my cycle real fast in the lane that separated our houses.
Our family always had very good relations with the neighbours, and that used to be a common trend in all the smaller cities of India during those day- the early and mid nineties. Lots of infants from the neighbours' homes virtually grew up in our house, coz my mother was a housewife and had loads of patience, the latter quality she swears came from her experience in raising me. These kids used to adore me, and at the risk of being called immodest, i claim that i used to be their hero.
Now, we have a bigger house back home, the city itself has developed into a fast bustling one, and i have been out of my home since mid 2004. But today when i visit home for a week or so once a year, i can feel the change that has come about - culturally. I hardly get to see the people who stay next to us, all u get to see is a door close shut with a video camera enabled calling bell staring at ur face.
I guess this is a fall out of the way our country has moved forward economically. We work hard, spend more time in office, and for the homemakers, the daily soaps that run on the idiot box are more important than socializing. Is man still a social animal?
And in many ways, i have become a product of the same environment. I spend almost 14 hours out of home on weekdays, and out of the remaining 10, prefer to sleep 7 hours. The office is the new home, and relationships and crushes develop here now, and not in your neighbourhood. I wish my kids could know how i feels to have a crush on your next door neighbour... after all, its all a part of your growing up.
BACK BY PUBLIC DEMAND
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
EVENING SHOW ONLY
PARENTAL ADVISORY
DON'T BE ENTERTAINMENT FOR YOUR NEIGHBOURS
XYZ JHAROKHA - THE NO NEIGHBOUR APARTMENTS
CONTACT: **** ***** ******* *****
This words were accompanied by a photo that showed the shadow of a girl quite well endowed behind a window screen, i guess taking a bath.
It got my kinda thinking. I was reminded of the good old days of my early youth when I used to have a huge crush on the girl next door. Years later, i came to know that her younger sister had a crush on me, but then, I had expected that all along. Infact, I used to try hard to impress her (the elder one, that is) by riding my cycle real fast in the lane that separated our houses.
Our family always had very good relations with the neighbours, and that used to be a common trend in all the smaller cities of India during those day- the early and mid nineties. Lots of infants from the neighbours' homes virtually grew up in our house, coz my mother was a housewife and had loads of patience, the latter quality she swears came from her experience in raising me. These kids used to adore me, and at the risk of being called immodest, i claim that i used to be their hero.
Now, we have a bigger house back home, the city itself has developed into a fast bustling one, and i have been out of my home since mid 2004. But today when i visit home for a week or so once a year, i can feel the change that has come about - culturally. I hardly get to see the people who stay next to us, all u get to see is a door close shut with a video camera enabled calling bell staring at ur face.
I guess this is a fall out of the way our country has moved forward economically. We work hard, spend more time in office, and for the homemakers, the daily soaps that run on the idiot box are more important than socializing. Is man still a social animal?
And in many ways, i have become a product of the same environment. I spend almost 14 hours out of home on weekdays, and out of the remaining 10, prefer to sleep 7 hours. The office is the new home, and relationships and crushes develop here now, and not in your neighbourhood. I wish my kids could know how i feels to have a crush on your next door neighbour... after all, its all a part of your growing up.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Bored
Another lazy summer afternoon. But these days of laziness won't last for long though. My summer internships beckons in a couple of days, and i'm sure that would mean no orkuttin, no blogging, no YM and no Gtalk.
Not that i'm complaining. Can't wait to get started on the project and get it over with. Coz can't wait to get back on campus. This summmers has and will continue to be a sneak peek at what lies in store for me next year when i pass out of my B School. WOuld hate to leave my student life for a second time.
Not that i'm complaining. Can't wait to get started on the project and get it over with. Coz can't wait to get back on campus. This summmers has and will continue to be a sneak peek at what lies in store for me next year when i pass out of my B School. WOuld hate to leave my student life for a second time.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Getting hurt is fun
It is funny how often I keep on going back to the past. Pretty ironical too, because “live for the present, let go of the past” is something I keep on harping to those souls in distress who come to me for counselling during or after their “personal problems”. Infact, if the Indian job market happens to go bust in the coming 12 months, I have an alternate career option to fall back upon – Agony Uncle.
Jokes apart, it is not without reasons that I look back to the past. It teaches more than a 3 credit course in a B school does. But, are we willing to learn? I know, I am not. Been there, done that – mistakes, I mean. And swore that the mistakes won’t ever be repeated. But to think of it, wouldn’t life be a hell of a boring place if we were to go all picture perfect.
At the risk of being branded as a freak or a weirdo, I proclaim that I like getting hurt. Remember the NBA ad that used to be aired on Star Sports in the mid ‘90s (there I go, back to the past) – “pain is just a form of releasing energy”? I kind of can relate o it now… ofcourse we are talking about mental pain here, a fast cricket ball hitting me on the knuckles still brings a grimace on my face.
So what happens when one gets mentally hurt? And what are their benefits?
•Shed a few silent tears – they clean the eyes
•Trudge to the nearest bar for some beer – beer gives you an appetite, which I’m sure most would agree, disappears when one is mentally hurt
•Do a self-evaluation – one should do that quite regularly… in this age of fast times, we often become strangers to ourselves.
•Swear that you will get even one day – brings in a spirit of competitiveness (this is specially important for the introverts among us)
•Teaches you that the world is an unfair place – so the next time you hurt someone, you will carry less emotional baggage and guilt about the whole affair
•Helps you do a reality check – you come to know that you can’t trust the concerned person before its too late (or, later)
•Gives you stuff to write upon on a hot lazy summer afternoon – helps in killing time, and gives you the sadistic pleasure of knowing that one day, some unsuspecting soul must have wasted more than a couple of minutes in reading the crap that you have written.
And that’s why, friends, Romans and countrymen, I love committing the same mistakes over and over again and keep getting hurt.
Jokes apart, it is not without reasons that I look back to the past. It teaches more than a 3 credit course in a B school does. But, are we willing to learn? I know, I am not. Been there, done that – mistakes, I mean. And swore that the mistakes won’t ever be repeated. But to think of it, wouldn’t life be a hell of a boring place if we were to go all picture perfect.
At the risk of being branded as a freak or a weirdo, I proclaim that I like getting hurt. Remember the NBA ad that used to be aired on Star Sports in the mid ‘90s (there I go, back to the past) – “pain is just a form of releasing energy”? I kind of can relate o it now… ofcourse we are talking about mental pain here, a fast cricket ball hitting me on the knuckles still brings a grimace on my face.
So what happens when one gets mentally hurt? And what are their benefits?
•Shed a few silent tears – they clean the eyes
•Trudge to the nearest bar for some beer – beer gives you an appetite, which I’m sure most would agree, disappears when one is mentally hurt
•Do a self-evaluation – one should do that quite regularly… in this age of fast times, we often become strangers to ourselves.
•Swear that you will get even one day – brings in a spirit of competitiveness (this is specially important for the introverts among us)
•Teaches you that the world is an unfair place – so the next time you hurt someone, you will carry less emotional baggage and guilt about the whole affair
•Helps you do a reality check – you come to know that you can’t trust the concerned person before its too late (or, later)
•Gives you stuff to write upon on a hot lazy summer afternoon – helps in killing time, and gives you the sadistic pleasure of knowing that one day, some unsuspecting soul must have wasted more than a couple of minutes in reading the crap that you have written.
And that’s why, friends, Romans and countrymen, I love committing the same mistakes over and over again and keep getting hurt.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Fucked up
Its past 8 in the morning, and i'm pissed off like hell. I'll probably strangle anyone who tries to buzz me off right now, i'm that pissed off. Probably because i've been staring at this bloody notepad screen for more than 15 hours now. 5 assignments, over a 100,000 words to type, hundreds of graphs to make, huge data to analyse, a test to prepare for, 7 full course exams next week, a pissed off friend somewhere in Europe, a fucked up personal life, a guilt conscious that i carry from years ago...
All those great sayings are flashing in my inner brain right now...wen the goin get tough...., the story of the phoenix... will i be able to relate to them after these 10 days... a small voice in me says i will...writing this is already making me feel better.
I know that if i survive the next 10 days, i'll get stronger. IF.
All those great sayings are flashing in my inner brain right now...wen the goin get tough...., the story of the phoenix... will i be able to relate to them after these 10 days... a small voice in me says i will...writing this is already making me feel better.
I know that if i survive the next 10 days, i'll get stronger. IF.
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