Dear Humans,
Before anything else, without any further ado, let me clarify. I did not cross the road. Not this road. Not that road. Not any road for that matter. And I never thought about crossing any roads ever. And I checked, my cousins also, had no fancy thoughts of doing such a ridiculous thing. And nor my forefathers and their forefathers. No one is interested in your roads. No one in my family and extended family wants anything to do with you guys and your roads. You may please keep them to yourself and create your own jokes.
You see, we are peace loving ... things. We just want to be left alone, to do out little jig with the torso, the neck, the beak and the chicken dance. I know you guys must find it amusing, the way we bump our head into ground all the time. But then like us, you guys have tons of rituals that our race hasnt been able to understand. I mean what could be so interesting about a naked, saffron loincloth clad man, dancing in weird postures that lakhs of women try and imitate all his actions? What happens on that night every year when you guys almost burn the entire city down with so much fire and lighting that it actually hurts.
May be it hard to believe for you guys, but we do have sleep cycles. We dont really have those REM cycles but we do have our chicken cycles and we need to spend a large part of our lives sleeping. And when we sleep, we want to sleep in peace. In one piece.
Thats grudge no. 2 btw. The last letter, listed in great detail, the tortures that every single one of us goes through all the time. The impending cage. Ofcourse it is really tough to spot your relatives in that huge a bunch of while haired things, all looking the same. The lucky ones reach the pressure cookers fast and they happily melt away with all the spices and gravy. The unlucky ones, us, the ones looking at all those of us being carried away, that sight is scary.
The next on agenda is all those filthy cartoon films. Do we really look that yellow? that furry? that tiny? that fragile? Do we deserve to be sold at traffic signals? And not just sold, but renegotiated on and bickered about. And its not even a genetic clone. It is made up of plastic! I know you guys are 7 billion and we are mere a few thousands but this is no way to treat us. If Noah had his way, you and us would have been in equal number. And since we dont have to wait for 9 months to produce the next generation, we would have grown faster. Mmmm, that could have been interesting. Imagine the menu reading butter aadmi, aadam musallam, aadmi changezi, aadam shawarma etc.
So, I am short on time. I understand that roads hold a special place in your life, lores and development. They connected you guys and helped moved faster. They allowed movement of people, things, thoughts and stories. Including the one about me crossing the road. I mean, who could even think of it? And why? Can you even imagine a chicken on the road?
Guys, can we please cut it out? Dont you guys think you have stretched this one, a little too much? Isnt the joke now too old, too predictable and too boring?
Sincerely,
The Chicken
This is day 03 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
Two down. Two to go.
Time for a small update on the Project 0811. I like the ring of it. Every month, I think I need to think of some interesting things and call it Project . Anyways, we shall cross the line when we reach there.
Coming to the update, its just the third day in the month and I already broke a rule (of the 4 I made for this month). I ate outside today. An iced tea at a CCD and some Chinese food from Yo China.
The second rule, the Rot 13 one, I was supposed to start it on day 1, I havent even started on it.
Not happening Mr. Garg. Time to pull up the socks!
Coming to the update, its just the third day in the month and I already broke a rule (of the 4 I made for this month). I ate outside today. An iced tea at a CCD and some Chinese food from Yo China.
The second rule, the Rot 13 one, I was supposed to start it on day 1, I havent even started on it.
Not happening Mr. Garg. Time to pull up the socks!
Aug 02: Love Letter 101
Dear You,
You know who you are. I am not sure if you read this blog. Nah, you dont have to be ashamed of the fact. No one does. Its one of those pointless things that people love to engage in. Actually I am not sure if people blog anymore. After all its the twitter generation. If you cant say it in 140 characters, not even words, characters, you are taking too much time and your audience has already moved on to the next effervescent thing. Effervescent. I think that is the word that defines conversations and relationships in this generation. Side note. Its funny how within my lifetime, I have seen multiple generations come and go. From the days when chatting on yahoo used to be in vogue, to orkut, to blogs, to facebook, and now to twitter. Wow. Thats 5 generations. Within the last 10 or so years. Anyways, coming back to conversations and relationships. Split second decisions and short term view is the name of the game now a days. You decide on drop of a hat and you move in an instant.
I, however, am still an old timer. I still love the fuzzy feeling of holding hands while walking on a long road. I still want to send flowery and cute greeting cards. I still want to write letters. I still want to read out long narratives on life and living when I am with someone I love. I want to do all those things to you. And more.
I am the kinds who thinks that 140 characters are too short for professing love. For that matter, even 140 words, or 140 letters, or even 140 long walks are too short to express how I feel about you.
Come to think of it, you and I, its really funny. If I was to ever describe the kind of woman I would want to be with, I could have never ever thought of someone who would resemble you even a bit. And now that I know you for a while, I am sure if someone asked you for your kind of man, I would probably be the last man on this planet!
You know, it was not love at first sight. When I first saw you, I dismissed you as yet another woman who was different from the crowd. But then like all different women, you had something that was, different! Slowly but gradually I was hooked. To you. The way you talked. They way you dressed. The way got the sunshine to peek through the clouds. The way you made things simple. The way you reassured that things would be better. Eventually.
And once I realized that its you, I started making those foolish attempts at trying to woo you. And was it difficult? Phew!
I have dropped hazaar words, hints, gestures, things, all trying to get your attention. All in hopes of telling how much you mean to me. You, however, refuse to catch the line. Is it me who is trying too hard or is it you? Too smart for someone as hopelessly in love as I? Anyways I believe that hope floats and wishes do come true. They take time, but they do.
Pray tell me that you understand. Tell me that you are just acting up and acting pricey. Please give me that smile that can brighten the gloomiest of the days. Give me that touch that can make all the pain in the word go away. Give me that sign.
Your's,
I
P.S.: Anyone is free to use this letter, in any form they deem fit. If you do use this letter, please let me know. Thank you.
This is day 02 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
You know who you are. I am not sure if you read this blog. Nah, you dont have to be ashamed of the fact. No one does. Its one of those pointless things that people love to engage in. Actually I am not sure if people blog anymore. After all its the twitter generation. If you cant say it in 140 characters, not even words, characters, you are taking too much time and your audience has already moved on to the next effervescent thing. Effervescent. I think that is the word that defines conversations and relationships in this generation. Side note. Its funny how within my lifetime, I have seen multiple generations come and go. From the days when chatting on yahoo used to be in vogue, to orkut, to blogs, to facebook, and now to twitter. Wow. Thats 5 generations. Within the last 10 or so years. Anyways, coming back to conversations and relationships. Split second decisions and short term view is the name of the game now a days. You decide on drop of a hat and you move in an instant.
I, however, am still an old timer. I still love the fuzzy feeling of holding hands while walking on a long road. I still want to send flowery and cute greeting cards. I still want to write letters. I still want to read out long narratives on life and living when I am with someone I love. I want to do all those things to you. And more.
I am the kinds who thinks that 140 characters are too short for professing love. For that matter, even 140 words, or 140 letters, or even 140 long walks are too short to express how I feel about you.
Come to think of it, you and I, its really funny. If I was to ever describe the kind of woman I would want to be with, I could have never ever thought of someone who would resemble you even a bit. And now that I know you for a while, I am sure if someone asked you for your kind of man, I would probably be the last man on this planet!
You know, it was not love at first sight. When I first saw you, I dismissed you as yet another woman who was different from the crowd. But then like all different women, you had something that was, different! Slowly but gradually I was hooked. To you. The way you talked. They way you dressed. The way got the sunshine to peek through the clouds. The way you made things simple. The way you reassured that things would be better. Eventually.
And once I realized that its you, I started making those foolish attempts at trying to woo you. And was it difficult? Phew!
I have dropped hazaar words, hints, gestures, things, all trying to get your attention. All in hopes of telling how much you mean to me. You, however, refuse to catch the line. Is it me who is trying too hard or is it you? Too smart for someone as hopelessly in love as I? Anyways I believe that hope floats and wishes do come true. They take time, but they do.
Pray tell me that you understand. Tell me that you are just acting up and acting pricey. Please give me that smile that can brighten the gloomiest of the days. Give me that touch that can make all the pain in the word go away. Give me that sign.
I
P.S.: Anyone is free to use this letter, in any form they deem fit. If you do use this letter, please let me know. Thank you.
This is day 02 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
Aug 02: On Samosa
Samosa, ladies and gentlemen, happens to be the best thing that has happened to mankind, since the discovery of fire. For the uninitiated, two things. One, if you dont know what a Samosa is and if you havent had one, you have wasted your life. Its divine. The crunchyness of the thick crisp shell, the smooth thick and hot potato paste, the tinge of chillies on your tongue as you bite in, the texture of the chutney inside your mouth, all of it is an experience par definition. Its actually a sin to try and capture it in words. I should be castrated for the sin. No kidding.
So, typically you buy a samosa from any of those million nukkad shops selling all kinds of savories and sweets. Invariably, the shop would be called Agarwal Sweets or Agarwal Corner. Or any other combination of words Agarwal and sweets. It looks like that all those Agarwals descended from some other planet and create a base on all the busy intersections and markets and now they have monopoly over them. I challenge that you goto any habituated locality in India and you would find at least one Agarwal doling out sweets and samosas by dozens.
Coming back to samosas, my love affair with samosas goes all the way back to my childhood. Ever since I can remember, I dint really have a sweet tooth (I could face a court-martial and can be charged with conduct unbecoming of a true Baniya, and disowned by my family, if my dad was to read this. Sweets and Baniya are like dagger and clock, like Batman and Robin, like Sherlock Holmes and Watson, like Razor and blade, unthinkable without each other). I liked things a little salty, a little tangy. And no wonder when all my friends were clamoring for that jalebi, I was happy with my samosas.
To put things in context, I dont really have the luxury of statistics here but I bet, India sells more samosas that America sells hot dogs. Per capita. A samosa infact has as much impact on the fabric of our country as much as a chai ka cup or a golgappa has had. Samosa transcends generations, genders, race, age, location, political inclinations, castes and all other such frivolous word that divide our society. Everyone loves samosa. There is no bias. Its like alcohol. If Harivansh Rai Bachchan was alive today, and if he was asked to pen a piece on samosas, the outcome would have been a more convincing case in favour samosa than his seminal Madhushala made for alcohol and bars. I am sure an entire generation would have converted into alcoholics after they would have read Madhushala.
Samosa, typically is made with potato but then there are people who innovate. They put in everything from peas to minced meat to eggs to even ice cream. Yes, ice cream. Apparently, the shell is that hard that the ice cream does not melt when the samosa is deep fried. To be honest, I havent had the icecream variety but I do not doubt for a single instant that the ice cream samosa exists, and is as good as its other, more famous and common cousins. I detest cooking to the extent of actually going without dinner, if there are no options, otherwise I would have tried making the ice cream one for sure.
Anyways the samosa rant has been stretched to the extent of becoming intolerable and its not even half funny. I wanted to write 500+ words and with this line, I am sure I have met the deadline.
But, next time you happen to be close to an Agarwal something, please do order a samosa and dig in. And do share your thoughts on what I think should be our national savory. Wait, do we even have a national savory?
This is day 02 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
So, typically you buy a samosa from any of those million nukkad shops selling all kinds of savories and sweets. Invariably, the shop would be called Agarwal Sweets or Agarwal Corner. Or any other combination of words Agarwal and sweets. It looks like that all those Agarwals descended from some other planet and create a base on all the busy intersections and markets and now they have monopoly over them. I challenge that you goto any habituated locality in India and you would find at least one Agarwal doling out sweets and samosas by dozens.
Coming back to samosas, my love affair with samosas goes all the way back to my childhood. Ever since I can remember, I dint really have a sweet tooth (I could face a court-martial and can be charged with conduct unbecoming of a true Baniya, and disowned by my family, if my dad was to read this. Sweets and Baniya are like dagger and clock, like Batman and Robin, like Sherlock Holmes and Watson, like Razor and blade, unthinkable without each other). I liked things a little salty, a little tangy. And no wonder when all my friends were clamoring for that jalebi, I was happy with my samosas.
To put things in context, I dont really have the luxury of statistics here but I bet, India sells more samosas that America sells hot dogs. Per capita. A samosa infact has as much impact on the fabric of our country as much as a chai ka cup or a golgappa has had. Samosa transcends generations, genders, race, age, location, political inclinations, castes and all other such frivolous word that divide our society. Everyone loves samosa. There is no bias. Its like alcohol. If Harivansh Rai Bachchan was alive today, and if he was asked to pen a piece on samosas, the outcome would have been a more convincing case in favour samosa than his seminal Madhushala made for alcohol and bars. I am sure an entire generation would have converted into alcoholics after they would have read Madhushala.
Samosa, typically is made with potato but then there are people who innovate. They put in everything from peas to minced meat to eggs to even ice cream. Yes, ice cream. Apparently, the shell is that hard that the ice cream does not melt when the samosa is deep fried. To be honest, I havent had the icecream variety but I do not doubt for a single instant that the ice cream samosa exists, and is as good as its other, more famous and common cousins. I detest cooking to the extent of actually going without dinner, if there are no options, otherwise I would have tried making the ice cream one for sure.
Anyways the samosa rant has been stretched to the extent of becoming intolerable and its not even half funny. I wanted to write 500+ words and with this line, I am sure I have met the deadline.
But, next time you happen to be close to an Agarwal something, please do order a samosa and dig in. And do share your thoughts on what I think should be our national savory. Wait, do we even have a national savory?
This is day 02 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
Aug 01: Of Writing, Reasons and Promises
Like I promised myself, that this month, each day, I shall update this blog. Here is the first post.
And guess what! I am stuck on line 1. I thought writing came pretty naturally to me and I could write more than the longest epic of our times but I was wrong. I have been staring at this page for more than twenty minutes now and I have no clue what to write. In fact as I write, I have not even filled up the title of the post, apart from the customary "Aug 01:". Once I finish writing this, I would get down to the title - which in my humble opinion should not be that difficult to pull off.
So let me talk about why I want to do the 31 day challenge. Quite a few reasons actually. The single biggest reason being that I want to create some discipline in my otherwise haphazard life. There are some things that are under my control and there are some that I cant control. Over the past few months, I have tried to work on things and have seen some good results. Not that I am a changed man but I do believe that taking baby steps does help become that giant that you always wanted to become.
Second, I realized that writing de-stresses me. Even though I am belting crap that no one in the world would care for, I still find pleasure in writing. I love the feeling when my fingers dance by themselves on the keyboard (I have used the finger dance metaphor at-least thirty times in past five years) and they end up producing a piece that is coherent. The piece may be grammatically flawed and factually incorrect but then I dont mind it. After all, no ones reading it. Not even you anymore.
Third, more I write, better I get. Like everyone who can speak English, even I have a budding author hidden somewhere inside me, amongst a hidden cricketer, commentator, guitarist, businessman, film maker, philanthropist, teacher, polymath etc. Writing is something that I can work on and improve. Of course story telling is a gift that you are born with, writing on the other hand, you can work on it. Did I come with the gift, time shall tell. But I will ensure that by the time I hang myboots pen, I would be an accomplished writer.
Fourth, once I start writing, my otherwise dead brain, the vegetable bit of me, starts functioning. I get ideas that I never thought I could come up with. Well, most of the times. Like right now, I dont really have any ideas that can potentially make that dent but most of the times, I do get those ideas. And I park them in another document. Or scribble them on a piece of paper. Its funny how our brain operates. In terms of creating new things, I dont think it can. I think it can only link up things that it had processed earlier and then make new links and then tell us on the surface about the new idea.
Five. There is no five! I mean I am sure there is a five but I cant think of it right now. May be some other day.
So what all would I be writing about in the coming days? I do not want it to be boring. I do not want it all to be too similar to each other. Although I suck at it, I would try my hand at writing different genres. Humor, Fiction, Non-Fiction (I think this piece may qualify for non-fiction), Personal, Rant, Review etc. I would try changing the way I write. I want to write something in third person (most of the things I write are in first person). I want to write something like a letter (I did try my hand at a fictional letter once up on a time. It was that bad that my friend had to drop the damn project!). Actually now that I am writing about writing letters, I realize that I want to write a lot of those. A love letter, a hate mail, a ransom letter amongst other things.
I think thats about it for the day. The wants got too much no?
And, the title. I will call this post, Of Writing, Reasons and Wishlists. Why? Go figure!
This is day 01 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
And guess what! I am stuck on line 1. I thought writing came pretty naturally to me and I could write more than the longest epic of our times but I was wrong. I have been staring at this page for more than twenty minutes now and I have no clue what to write. In fact as I write, I have not even filled up the title of the post, apart from the customary "Aug 01:". Once I finish writing this, I would get down to the title - which in my humble opinion should not be that difficult to pull off.
So let me talk about why I want to do the 31 day challenge. Quite a few reasons actually. The single biggest reason being that I want to create some discipline in my otherwise haphazard life. There are some things that are under my control and there are some that I cant control. Over the past few months, I have tried to work on things and have seen some good results. Not that I am a changed man but I do believe that taking baby steps does help become that giant that you always wanted to become.
Second, I realized that writing de-stresses me. Even though I am belting crap that no one in the world would care for, I still find pleasure in writing. I love the feeling when my fingers dance by themselves on the keyboard (I have used the finger dance metaphor at-least thirty times in past five years) and they end up producing a piece that is coherent. The piece may be grammatically flawed and factually incorrect but then I dont mind it. After all, no ones reading it. Not even you anymore.
Third, more I write, better I get. Like everyone who can speak English, even I have a budding author hidden somewhere inside me, amongst a hidden cricketer, commentator, guitarist, businessman, film maker, philanthropist, teacher, polymath etc. Writing is something that I can work on and improve. Of course story telling is a gift that you are born with, writing on the other hand, you can work on it. Did I come with the gift, time shall tell. But I will ensure that by the time I hang my
Fourth, once I start writing, my otherwise dead brain, the vegetable bit of me, starts functioning. I get ideas that I never thought I could come up with. Well, most of the times. Like right now, I dont really have any ideas that can potentially make that dent but most of the times, I do get those ideas. And I park them in another document. Or scribble them on a piece of paper. Its funny how our brain operates. In terms of creating new things, I dont think it can. I think it can only link up things that it had processed earlier and then make new links and then tell us on the surface about the new idea.
Five. There is no five! I mean I am sure there is a five but I cant think of it right now. May be some other day.
So what all would I be writing about in the coming days? I do not want it to be boring. I do not want it all to be too similar to each other. Although I suck at it, I would try my hand at writing different genres. Humor, Fiction, Non-Fiction (I think this piece may qualify for non-fiction), Personal, Rant, Review etc. I would try changing the way I write. I want to write something in third person (most of the things I write are in first person). I want to write something like a letter (I did try my hand at a fictional letter once up on a time. It was that bad that my friend had to drop the damn project!). Actually now that I am writing about writing letters, I realize that I want to write a lot of those. A love letter, a hate mail, a ransom letter amongst other things.
I think thats about it for the day. The wants got too much no?
And, the title. I will call this post, Of Writing, Reasons and Wishlists. Why? Go figure!
This is day 01 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
August - 2011
August 01, 2011
Beginning of a new month. And like all new months (and years), something inside me tells me to create a goal list. Goals and I go back very long. I have been making lists since 1947 and I haven't been able to finish a single list, since 1947! What a coincidence. Anyways, as they say, "koshish karne wale ki kabhi haar nahi hoti", today while driving to work, I decided that I would make a goal list for this month. Rather than making long plans that never fructify, I will make small, measurable
So here are the goals for August.
Beginning of a new month. And like all new months (and years), something inside me tells me to create a goal list. Goals and I go back very long. I have been making lists since 1947 and I haven't been able to finish a single list, since 1947! What a coincidence. Anyways, as they say, "koshish karne wale ki kabhi haar nahi hoti", today while driving to work, I decided that I would make a goal list for this month. Rather than making long plans that never fructify, I will make small, measurable
So here are the goals for August.
- Write at least one blog post each day on this blog. I do maintain a few other blogs (all of them as not famous as this one) and though I do update them occasionally, they dont give me as much pleasure as this one does. So the goal is, to update this blog, atleast once each day, for rest of the month.
- Stop eating out. I have been maintaining a rather complex excel sheet that keeps track of where my money is going. My top three expenses each month, month on month, have been Misc (this is where all my gadgets, gifts etc go), Petrol and Eating Out. I know I cant stop buying gadgets. I know I have to buy fuel to be able to reach office (my office does not pay for my travel. Boss, are you reading this?). And I can easily cut down on the Eating Out bit. It will save me some money (which I desperately need) and help me reduce weight (again, I desperately need to do that as well). All the coffee shops in and around Delhi would hate me for this but a man's got to do what a man's got to do.
- Travel. Thankfully, my work makes me travel a lot. But then travel is one of those things that a man cant have enough of. If all goes as planned, I am supposed to goto Goa and Mumbai this month. Both trips are for work but I will try and squeeze in some bit of personal travel post the Mumbai trip. So anyways, the resolution is that each month, I have to have to make one trip (of at least two nights) somewhere that is not related to work.
- Secret. Jevgr n obbx ol raq bs guvf zbagu. Gbbx vafcvengvba sebz uggc://jjj.anabjevzb.bet/ naq znxr Nhthfg zl Abiry Jevgvat Zbagu. Gb or ubarfg, ba qnl 1, V qbag ernyyl unir n fpevcg be n cyna. Ohg V jvyy jevgr n 50, 000 jbeqf. Naq yvxr Zngg (Phggf, bs gur Tbbtyr snzr), fnlf, qb rirelguvat va fznyy fgrcf naq V jvyy jevgr 1650 jbeqf rirelqnl. Hint: Rot13.
And thats about it. If there is more, I shall add on here. Or maybe push them to September. Right now, let me try and close these 4.
Taare Zameen Pay
One of those days when I left home really early. I was in Mumbai and had to meet someone for a breakfast meeting at 7. Since I no longer stay in Mumbai, Neo lent me his car and I was driving from his place. It was to be a thirty minute ride through a city that is more alive than anything else. It had just rained and the entire city was washed and had that damp look about it. The roads were clean, the air fresh and there were puddles of water all over. Not the mean ones but the cute ones. I could see life all around me. Kids trying to reach their school, vada pao vendors trying to make a living, little boys cleaning autorickshaws, sporadic traffic on the road. It all looked like a movie. And I was shuffling FM channels, the way I do all the time, hoping to catch a song that I like, still hoping for a better song. With so much of shuffling, its actually funny that I even get to hear some music. So anyways, some station was playing Taare Zameen Par from the movie, well, Taare Zameen Par. The movie is easily about 5 4 years old (it released in 2007. checked on IMDB) and the song got really popular back then. Those days I hardly paid any attention to it. So its a surpise that I actually stopped my fidgeting on this song and heard it. And as the song reached its high point, the chorus, I was so overwhelmed with the beautiful picture the song was painting that I got this lump of the size of a football in my neck. Ofcourse boys, I mean supposedly grown ups dont cry, I couldnt shed any tears but I would have, if I dint fear a public outcry and declaration of a national calamity over it. Obviously I am an emotional fool and I get carried away easily. Also, the tradition of wetting eyes runs deep in the family. Its one of those traits that I have acquired from mother side of family. Of course I have all the bad traits ;P.
So the song played and I was drowning in my emotions. One part of me wanted the song to get over as soon as possible and the other one wanted it to keep playing. Forever. May be for next few minutes that I could tolerate it. But then like most things in life, I dint have a choice with this song either. Like other things, the song ran its length and something came over to replace it. Isnt it funny, that our entire lives, we try to do things that would make us, our names, our work, our legacy permanent and when the day you bid adieu to the world, no one notices. I mean they take a note and they talk about your glorious achievements and illustrious career, for exactly three minutes. Imagine summarizing seventy years of your existence in three minutes. Ok, enough of rant. So the song got over. I was left with that itch. That despite it being such a brilliant song, how could I miss it! The itch that I had to scratch and hear the song once more. Somehow I had to. I dint have it on my laptop or on my music player (BB 9700 :D) or in the car, the only way to hear it was to download it off Internet. But then what about the damned meeting that had been planned for more than 4 months? And these are exactly the situations where God likes to plays his funny games. Makes you want to believe in his existence. Turn into a believer. Get you to goto temples, mosques, churches or whatever sanctuary.
So I wanted the song badly and I had no access to it. I hoped that it would be on some other station. I flipped stations and, yes, you guessed it. It was there! It was fucking there on some other station. It was playing. The way I wanted it. Without me making an effort for it. Without me praying to God.
Taare Zaameen Par is such a brilliant song. You must hear it. For best results, put it on a loop, put on some really nice headphones, turn off lights, set the AC to 24 and close your eyes. If it doesnt touch your soul, give you goosebumps and elevates your spirit, I will do anything you want me to. Anything. And I am not kidding.
Thanks Prasoon Joshi, Shankar Mahadevan and every other unknown name who played a part in making of this song. Thank you so much for giving us Taare Zameen Par.
So the song played and I was drowning in my emotions. One part of me wanted the song to get over as soon as possible and the other one wanted it to keep playing. Forever. May be for next few minutes that I could tolerate it. But then like most things in life, I dint have a choice with this song either. Like other things, the song ran its length and something came over to replace it. Isnt it funny, that our entire lives, we try to do things that would make us, our names, our work, our legacy permanent and when the day you bid adieu to the world, no one notices. I mean they take a note and they talk about your glorious achievements and illustrious career, for exactly three minutes. Imagine summarizing seventy years of your existence in three minutes. Ok, enough of rant. So the song got over. I was left with that itch. That despite it being such a brilliant song, how could I miss it! The itch that I had to scratch and hear the song once more. Somehow I had to. I dint have it on my laptop or on my music player (BB 9700 :D) or in the car, the only way to hear it was to download it off Internet. But then what about the damned meeting that had been planned for more than 4 months? And these are exactly the situations where God likes to plays his funny games. Makes you want to believe in his existence. Turn into a believer. Get you to goto temples, mosques, churches or whatever sanctuary.
So I wanted the song badly and I had no access to it. I hoped that it would be on some other station. I flipped stations and, yes, you guessed it. It was there! It was fucking there on some other station. It was playing. The way I wanted it. Without me making an effort for it. Without me praying to God.
Taare Zaameen Par is such a brilliant song. You must hear it. For best results, put it on a loop, put on some really nice headphones, turn off lights, set the AC to 24 and close your eyes. If it doesnt touch your soul, give you goosebumps and elevates your spirit, I will do anything you want me to. Anything. And I am not kidding.
Thanks Prasoon Joshi, Shankar Mahadevan and every other unknown name who played a part in making of this song. Thank you so much for giving us Taare Zameen Par.
Crib crib crib!
Disclaimer: Post full of rants and I might use profanities. Parental discretion advised.
So I have been panning a trip to Mumbai for a while now. And for some reason or the other, the trips been getting delayed. Been more than two weeks now. And every-time at the last minute. This time, I had even packed my bags and called my driver to drop me to the airport.
It sucks to work for someone else. It sucks to be at the mercy of others and it sucks to let others take control of your life. If you cant plan simple things like travel to friend's places, it couldn't suck more. Of course you may argue that once you grow in life, you would have more time. I have one word answer to that. Balls. Ghanta (for the noes who appreciate Hindi).
So I have been panning a trip to Mumbai for a while now. And for some reason or the other, the trips been getting delayed. Been more than two weeks now. And every-time at the last minute. This time, I had even packed my bags and called my driver to drop me to the airport.
It sucks to work for someone else. It sucks to be at the mercy of others and it sucks to let others take control of your life. If you cant plan simple things like travel to friend's places, it couldn't suck more. Of course you may argue that once you grow in life, you would have more time. I have one word answer to that. Balls. Ghanta (for the noes who appreciate Hindi).
So, Hugh, of the GapingVoid fame, says "Life is short and one day you're no longer going to be here; that's all the motivation you need". And this is exactly why I hate to work for someone else. When I am 40, when I cant lift my limbs, I dont want to look back and regret about things that I could have done and I could have achieved. Like that carpe diem thingy, life for the damn minute. If you were to die today, after this minute, what would do in this minute? Work for someone else? Wait for a meeting to start? What for someone to rub his ego at your cost?
And yes, the kid in me wrote this post. Anyone got any problems with it?
Zindagi Na Milegi Dubara - 2
Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho toh zinda ho tum
Nazar mein khwaabon ki bijliyan leke chal rahe ho toh zinda ho tum.
Hawa ke jhokon ke jaise aazad rehna seekho,
Dariya ke jaise lehron mein behna seekho,
Har ek lamhe se tum milo khole apni baahein.
Har ek pal ek naya sama dekhein ye nigaahein.
Jo apni aankhon mein hairaaniyan leke chal rahe ho toh zinda ho tum.
Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho toh zinda ho tum.
- Javed Akhtar
Credits to NV for typing this out!
Nazar mein khwaabon ki bijliyan leke chal rahe ho toh zinda ho tum.
Hawa ke jhokon ke jaise aazad rehna seekho,
Dariya ke jaise lehron mein behna seekho,
Har ek lamhe se tum milo khole apni baahein.
Har ek pal ek naya sama dekhein ye nigaahein.
Jo apni aankhon mein hairaaniyan leke chal rahe ho toh zinda ho tum.
Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho toh zinda ho tum.
- Javed Akhtar
Credits to NV for typing this out!
Zindagi Na Milegi Dubara
Jab jab dard ka badal chaye,
jab gum ka saya lehraye,
jab aansu palko tak aaye,
jab ye tanha dil ghabraye,
humne dil ko ye samjhaya,
dil akhir tu kyu rota hai,
duniya mein yuhi hota hai.
Yeh jo gehre sannatey hai,
waqt ne sabko baatey hain.
Thoda gum hain sab ka kissa,
thodi dhoop hain sab ka hissa.
Aankhey teri bekar he num hai,
har pal ek naya mausam hai.
Kyu tu aise pal khota hai,
dil aakhir tu kyu rota hai
- Javed Akhtar
jab gum ka saya lehraye,
jab aansu palko tak aaye,
jab ye tanha dil ghabraye,
humne dil ko ye samjhaya,
dil akhir tu kyu rota hai,
duniya mein yuhi hota hai.
Yeh jo gehre sannatey hai,
waqt ne sabko baatey hain.
Thoda gum hain sab ka kissa,
thodi dhoop hain sab ka hissa.
Aankhey teri bekar he num hai,
har pal ek naya mausam hai.
Kyu tu aise pal khota hai,
dil aakhir tu kyu rota hai
- Javed Akhtar
Credits to RK30Jan for typing this out!
The near near death experience
Note: This was originally written on 27th May. Never got around to finishing it. Forced finished it today.
Last night (on the night of 26th May), while driving home, I had a near near death experience.
A near death experience is when you are almost dead and you come back from the verge of that long white tunnel. Survivors (of the near death experience) often indicate that they saw a long white tunnel and a magnetic force pulling them towards the eye of the tunnel. They also describe in vivid details that their entire life flashes past by. Some people talk about how time slows down when you are so close to extinction.
I have got one word for all those people. Bullshit. Will go in the details later but right now, lemme describe briefly what actually happened. So I was on the elevated Barapulla road and I was doing about 80 kmph I think. Side note to Delhi Traffic Police. Please do not send me a ticket. So I was doing 80 on the road and was yelling out a song into the air. And was high - on music, freedom and the wind in my head. (Note: I dont booze). I took a turn and I see these two cars parked side by side on the road, leaving just one lane for other traffic. And they were not even 50 meters ahead of me. I had two options. Bang into one of them. Drive off the railing, about 30 feet down, in a drain. And since I hate getting my hands dirty, I decided that I would rather bang in them. But then, like all miracles, the ones that happened at the right time, one happened for me as well.
Somehow, to this date (almost a month since the incident), I dont know how my hands moved the steering about 900 degrees and my car wedged between the railing and the other car. I can bet my hair (or watever is left of it) that there was no space between the railing and the car and if I was in the situation again, I would not come out alive.
And no, this is not fiction. And please do NOT try this at home. Or School. Or roads.
Last night (on the night of 26th May), while driving home, I had a near near death experience.
A near death experience is when you are almost dead and you come back from the verge of that long white tunnel. Survivors (of the near death experience) often indicate that they saw a long white tunnel and a magnetic force pulling them towards the eye of the tunnel. They also describe in vivid details that their entire life flashes past by. Some people talk about how time slows down when you are so close to extinction.
I have got one word for all those people. Bullshit. Will go in the details later but right now, lemme describe briefly what actually happened. So I was on the elevated Barapulla road and I was doing about 80 kmph I think. Side note to Delhi Traffic Police. Please do not send me a ticket. So I was doing 80 on the road and was yelling out a song into the air. And was high - on music, freedom and the wind in my head. (Note: I dont booze). I took a turn and I see these two cars parked side by side on the road, leaving just one lane for other traffic. And they were not even 50 meters ahead of me. I had two options. Bang into one of them. Drive off the railing, about 30 feet down, in a drain. And since I hate getting my hands dirty, I decided that I would rather bang in them. But then, like all miracles, the ones that happened at the right time, one happened for me as well.
Somehow, to this date (almost a month since the incident), I dont know how my hands moved the steering about 900 degrees and my car wedged between the railing and the other car. I can bet my hair (or watever is left of it) that there was no space between the railing and the car and if I was in the situation again, I would not come out alive.
And no, this is not fiction. And please do NOT try this at home. Or School. Or roads.
So Long, Coke!
Dear regular readers of my blog, regular audience of my sob stories, Warren E Buffet, Neo, sgMS (remember those coke walks?), Ronald, friends and family,
Over the past few years (read ever since I can remember), you would have observed (and in some cases, tolerated) my addiction to a certain beverage and its various variants. Better known as Coke, Diet Coke and Coke Zero, this is a cola beverage. Made from water, sugar and some mystery ingredients (that apparently just two people know in the world), coke sells at about 1000 times the cost of its ingredients. Awesome business to in!
Anyways, so coming back to the point, I have finally quit drinking coke. At the height of my addiction I would drink upto 4 litres of coke and innumerable cans of DietCoke a day. Ofcourse it left a funny aftertaste on my teeth and tongue but I think I can live without it. I quit because as I grow old, I am trying to outlive myself and trying to get fitter et al. Am I saying coke is bad for health? I may be. May not be. Lets not get judgmental here.
So, with the benefit of the hindsight, I think I owe a lot to coke. The long list starts obviously with sgMS. I dont remember much now but I think she and I started bonding over coke and walks. Apart from her, coke got me access to so many other places and people that otherwise would have been difficult. Coke also gave me an escape route and a reason that I could use to avoid alcohol. Then coke gave me my sense of style (huh?) - imagine a bald guy holding a whiskey glass topped with ice cubes and coke!. Any armchair freudian analysts here?
However shunning coke creates a huge problem for me. What about all the craving for something liquid the entire day? I drink oodles of water but then there is a limit to tastelessness. While travelling, I get my fix of liquid with VitaminWater but here at home?
And since I dont really booze and I dont like citrus drinks (read fresh lime water, sodas and other assorted variants) my escape route was coke on the rocks. With coke out of the scene, I would be left sipping water and eating onto ice at parties, dinner dates and other social gatherings where you are expected to hold a glass. I need to find a replacement.
For the record and posterity, I stopped drinking coke on 15th of this month. Been 8 days and I am still going strong (despite repeated attempts of DJ Killa at corrupting me with offers to have coke at 3 in the morning). Hopefully the resolve will last for a meaningful period. Wish me luck so that I may pass through this life without another sip of coke.
And oh, one last issue! Now that I am no longer a coke aficionado, what do I do about all those coke fridge magnets, empty bottles, posters, tabs from cans, images that I have collected over the years? Any takers?
P.S.: I have made an attempt to shun coke in past as well (Feb this year). It dint last long. Lets see how long this one lasts.
Close races of the strangers kind
When was the last time you raced your car through traffic on Delhi roads? Against another vehicle? Being driven by a stranger? And with a tacit understanding between the two of you that you were racing each other? And trying to better each other?
I did it on Friday. I won. No kidding. And it was as exciting as the bungee!
The best part of the race was the inherent unpredictability of the encounter. You know for sure that you would not meet that driver ever again in your life. You would not have notes to share or stories to tell. And you know for a fact that there wouldn't be any spectators around to cheer your victory or console your loss. And you dont even know when the two of you would part ways and race would end as abruptly as it had begun!
But, one of those things that make live worth living!
I did it on Friday. I won. No kidding. And it was as exciting as the bungee!
The best part of the race was the inherent unpredictability of the encounter. You know for sure that you would not meet that driver ever again in your life. You would not have notes to share or stories to tell. And you know for a fact that there wouldn't be any spectators around to cheer your victory or console your loss. And you dont even know when the two of you would part ways and race would end as abruptly as it had begun!
But, one of those things that make live worth living!
Tally of Yes Men
Tally of Yes Men. I have never come across such a brilliant name for a music album. Yet. Anyways, so the post is not about the album or about Mr. Khosla or about Goldspot. The post is about me. What else did you expect on my blog? huh?
I was talking to a friend and he told me that best part about me was that I never say no. To requests personal or professional. And for some time, I did bask in the glory of the uncalled shower of praises and affection. But then I got stuck by this thought. The way Hancock strikes the train or the way Sachin strikes a cricket ball, the way I stump readers with my analogies. Anyways, I realized what was wrong with me.
I never said no! To anything! Not even to strangers. Not even to bad ideas. Not even to things that I know wont help me.
I was talking to a friend and he told me that best part about me was that I never say no. To requests personal or professional. And for some time, I did bask in the glory of the uncalled shower of praises and affection. But then I got stuck by this thought. The way Hancock strikes the train or the way Sachin strikes a cricket ball, the way I stump readers with my analogies. Anyways, I realized what was wrong with me.
I never said no! To anything! Not even to strangers. Not even to bad ideas. Not even to things that I know wont help me.
- Dude, I think its a brilliant idea. Lets do it. Ya man! why not.
- Dude can you lend me like a 5K? Ofcourse dear stranger. Here.
- Do you have a minute? Yes I have all the time in the world.
- Do you want to buy this shoe that you would never wear again? Oh! it will be my pleasure.
- Do you think I should try this? Yep, you should.
Random bout of Inspiration
It hits you when you least expect it. When your life is all set and is on a well treaded path to economic independence and predictable success. When you are about to take off and vault to the pinnacle of your profession. When you think that nothing can go wrong. No, not think. You know that nothing can go wrong. And it hits you. At the time when you least expect it.
I am talking about a random bout of inspiration. Let me give an example to drive home the point. I tagged along with a friend to Levo. Levo is one of those fancy places where heiresses of princely estates, ameer baap ki bigdi daughters, trophy housewives et al go for haircuts and pedicures and manicures and what not. Of course I have nothing to do with a place like that and people like that but this friend of mine wanted to change her hairstyle and I was asked to tag along. So my life was all fine. You know dull and boring and predictable in the MBA-rising-through-the-corporate-ladder way and suddenly one day I find myself standing outside Levo.
While she was getting her hair done, I had about an hour to kill. And Levo had this fancy magazine rack. The top few shelves had Vogues etc of the world. But the bottom shelf had xBHP, Suburb and Platform. And every turn of the page on each of the magazine, I went wow. Lemme take them one at a time.
Suburb is this magazine that is published out of Gurgaon and is aimed at expat community in Gurgaon. Since Gurgaon is a major hub for multinationals, there are tons of expats. Here for both short durations and longer stays. The content, the editorial notes and other material was very average from a niche magazines perspective but they made a good effort to appeal to their audience. Most of their content was clichéd and boring for an Indian but I am sure most expats wouldnt have known those things and would read Suburb religiously. Here, on our hands, we have this bunch of people who are intelligent and enterpriding enough to find a niche audience that is large enough. And they have been supplying them with dope they want. Amazing!
Next up is this magazine called Platform. A typical publication for Page 3 celebs. It proclaims that it talks about Art, Design, Fashion, Words, Music and Films. Everything that gets attention of the media savvy kinds. Apart from showcasing fashion designers, it did talk about art directors, writers, photographers and other creative kinds. I think its an awesome initiative to showcase people and their work. Apart from established professionals, there were tons of snippets about upcoming artists/creatives/talents. The content reflected a very strong editor at helm of affairs. And a lot of connections and purani dosti as play. Mightly impressed by them. If it wasnt Rs. 150 per copy, I would have subscribed to it.
And last, and the best, xBHP. As a kid I remember spending hours on the xBHP forum and ogling over bikers, their machines, their rides, their lifestyles and their babes. Seeing them in print was a pleasant surprise. And that too 250 GSM paper, gloss finish, thick 200 page magazine. Beat that shit guys. I made a few phone calls to a few friends still crazy about bikes and I was told that the guys at xBHP work with auto magazines and in the words of Green Day, they are having time of their lives.
Sigh!
Anyways, coming back to the post, random bout of inspiration, so this visit to a spa in Gurgaon is that random bout that I am most scared about. Something in me is now itching to get into the publishing business and start a magazine. And the question that I have from myself is ... do I or do I not scratch that itch.
P.S.: Another post on what it takes to start and run a magazine business. Coming Soon. In 2015 ;P
I am talking about a random bout of inspiration. Let me give an example to drive home the point. I tagged along with a friend to Levo. Levo is one of those fancy places where heiresses of princely estates, ameer baap ki bigdi daughters, trophy housewives et al go for haircuts and pedicures and manicures and what not. Of course I have nothing to do with a place like that and people like that but this friend of mine wanted to change her hairstyle and I was asked to tag along. So my life was all fine. You know dull and boring and predictable in the MBA-rising-through-the-corporate-ladder way and suddenly one day I find myself standing outside Levo.
While she was getting her hair done, I had about an hour to kill. And Levo had this fancy magazine rack. The top few shelves had Vogues etc of the world. But the bottom shelf had xBHP, Suburb and Platform. And every turn of the page on each of the magazine, I went wow. Lemme take them one at a time.
Suburb is this magazine that is published out of Gurgaon and is aimed at expat community in Gurgaon. Since Gurgaon is a major hub for multinationals, there are tons of expats. Here for both short durations and longer stays. The content, the editorial notes and other material was very average from a niche magazines perspective but they made a good effort to appeal to their audience. Most of their content was clichéd and boring for an Indian but I am sure most expats wouldnt have known those things and would read Suburb religiously. Here, on our hands, we have this bunch of people who are intelligent and enterpriding enough to find a niche audience that is large enough. And they have been supplying them with dope they want. Amazing!
Next up is this magazine called Platform. A typical publication for Page 3 celebs. It proclaims that it talks about Art, Design, Fashion, Words, Music and Films. Everything that gets attention of the media savvy kinds. Apart from showcasing fashion designers, it did talk about art directors, writers, photographers and other creative kinds. I think its an awesome initiative to showcase people and their work. Apart from established professionals, there were tons of snippets about upcoming artists/creatives/talents. The content reflected a very strong editor at helm of affairs. And a lot of connections and purani dosti as play. Mightly impressed by them. If it wasnt Rs. 150 per copy, I would have subscribed to it.
And last, and the best, xBHP. As a kid I remember spending hours on the xBHP forum and ogling over bikers, their machines, their rides, their lifestyles and their babes. Seeing them in print was a pleasant surprise. And that too 250 GSM paper, gloss finish, thick 200 page magazine. Beat that shit guys. I made a few phone calls to a few friends still crazy about bikes and I was told that the guys at xBHP work with auto magazines and in the words of Green Day, they are having time of their lives.
Sigh!
Anyways, coming back to the post, random bout of inspiration, so this visit to a spa in Gurgaon is that random bout that I am most scared about. Something in me is now itching to get into the publishing business and start a magazine. And the question that I have from myself is ... do I or do I not scratch that itch.
P.S.: Another post on what it takes to start and run a magazine business. Coming Soon. In 2015 ;P
Thank You!
No no, this is not about that new movie that has recently come up. This is about the world and life in general. Though I always want more and want to be rich and want to contribute meaningfully but I have realized that I have a wonderful life. I am no rock-star but what I have, millions of people would give their eyes to get.
Just want to thank life and people who make it so wonderful.
So why the sudden realization? This is not sudden sudden. I am sure I was subconsciously aware but it came up to the surface while driving to work today. It was windy, it was raining and there was no traffic on the road. With the steering wheel in my hand, I felt in control. For once I believed that I was the master of my destiny and I could go anywhere and achieve anything (although its a different matter that, exactly 45 mins after the flash of brilliance, I am in office, playing email jockey and sending off emails in all directions).
So while driving to work, I realized that there are so many forces that have conspired to give me the pleasure of driving in the rain and enjoying the way I did. Starting with my parents (gave me birth, sent me to schools, took care of me), nature (for giving us brilliant weather, mornings, rains, clouds, sunshine etc), forces of universe (for putting me at this place at this time), capitalists of the modern socierty (for creating music that I played in the background) to the democratic and socialist soceity (for giving me the freedom to move around and giving me awesome roads in Delhi), to myself (for chosing to remain happy despite to many things that I am yet to achieve).
Thank You everyone for everything.
Just want to thank life and people who make it so wonderful.
So why the sudden realization? This is not sudden sudden. I am sure I was subconsciously aware but it came up to the surface while driving to work today. It was windy, it was raining and there was no traffic on the road. With the steering wheel in my hand, I felt in control. For once I believed that I was the master of my destiny and I could go anywhere and achieve anything (although its a different matter that, exactly 45 mins after the flash of brilliance, I am in office, playing email jockey and sending off emails in all directions).
So while driving to work, I realized that there are so many forces that have conspired to give me the pleasure of driving in the rain and enjoying the way I did. Starting with my parents (gave me birth, sent me to schools, took care of me), nature (for giving us brilliant weather, mornings, rains, clouds, sunshine etc), forces of universe (for putting me at this place at this time), capitalists of the modern socierty (for creating music that I played in the background) to the democratic and socialist soceity (for giving me the freedom to move around and giving me awesome roads in Delhi), to myself (for chosing to remain happy despite to many things that I am yet to achieve).
Thank You everyone for everything.
King of Wishful Thinking
If there is one term that defines me, its this. The King of Wishful Thinking. VK08May spoke to me today about this.
Here are the lyrics ...
Wow! I mean imagine being able to write like that. The King of Wishful Thinking!
Here are the lyrics ...
I don't need to fall at your feet
Just 'cause you cut me to the bone
And I won't miss the way that you kiss me
We were never carved in stone
If I don't listen to the talk of the town
Then maybe I can fool myself..
I'll get over you.. I know I will
I'll pretend my ship's not sinking
And I'll tell myself I'm over you
'cause I'm the king of wishful thinking
I am the king of wishful thinking
I refuse to give in to my blues
That's not how it's going to be
And I deny the tears in my eyes
I don't want to let you see.. no
That you have made a hole in my heart
And now I've got to fool myself..
I'll get over you.. I know I will
I'll pretend my ship's not sinking
And I'll tell myself I'm over you
'cause I'm the king of wishful thinking..
I'll get over you.. I know I will
I'll pretend my ship's not sinking
And I'll tell myself I'm over you
'cause I'm the king of wishful thinking
I will never, never shed a tear for you
I'll get over you
If I don't listen to the talk of the town
Then maybe I can fool myself..
contd ...
Wow! I mean imagine being able to write like that. The King of Wishful Thinking!
Hello Mr. Email Jockey
[Start Rant]
I hereby present myself with yet another title. Mr. Email Jockey.
I heard the term first time on a flight. One Chinese executive, working in Hong Kong was talking to an entrepreneur from Australia and while talking, one of them dropped this term. I instantly developed a liking towards it. It had just the right ring to it. It aroused curiosity. I ensured that you get into a conversation. And most importantly, it said a lot about what I really do.
So who is an email jockey? Someone who sits on his laptop and blackberry and fires away emails at the speed of light. Someone who is so overawed by the volume of email that he doesn't get a single minute to think on things. Someone, on his day off, misses all the "action" that email jockeying entails.
You get on your desk at precisely 10. You open you mailbox. And next thing you notice is the grumbling sounds from your stomach and you realize that its 1. Time for lunch. You eat, pee, smoke, chit chat, visit the water cooler, stare at that girl you like. All in that 5 minutes break that you allow yourself. And then you are back at the station. Juggling emails from clients and vendors and team.
Next time you peek up from the sea of incoming messages and herd of outgoing mails, you realize its well past 9. And that colleague that you like and you hoped to ask out, has left for the day. And to make matters worse, you get an email from the guy who sits next to you, about how much fun he's having with that very girl.
Coming back, so email jockeying is one of those things that dint exist as a profession till about 5 years back. Advent of technology and its ubiquitous penetration has now made everyone email aware. You can now email and get married. Its really convenient and all that but for people like me, who are on the receiving end, this is one of those things that you wish, you could un-invent!
[End of Rant]
I hereby present myself with yet another title. Mr. Email Jockey.
I heard the term first time on a flight. One Chinese executive, working in Hong Kong was talking to an entrepreneur from Australia and while talking, one of them dropped this term. I instantly developed a liking towards it. It had just the right ring to it. It aroused curiosity. I ensured that you get into a conversation. And most importantly, it said a lot about what I really do.
So who is an email jockey? Someone who sits on his laptop and blackberry and fires away emails at the speed of light. Someone who is so overawed by the volume of email that he doesn't get a single minute to think on things. Someone, on his day off, misses all the "action" that email jockeying entails.
You get on your desk at precisely 10. You open you mailbox. And next thing you notice is the grumbling sounds from your stomach and you realize that its 1. Time for lunch. You eat, pee, smoke, chit chat, visit the water cooler, stare at that girl you like. All in that 5 minutes break that you allow yourself. And then you are back at the station. Juggling emails from clients and vendors and team.
Next time you peek up from the sea of incoming messages and herd of outgoing mails, you realize its well past 9. And that colleague that you like and you hoped to ask out, has left for the day. And to make matters worse, you get an email from the guy who sits next to you, about how much fun he's having with that very girl.
Coming back, so email jockeying is one of those things that dint exist as a profession till about 5 years back. Advent of technology and its ubiquitous penetration has now made everyone email aware. You can now email and get married. Its really convenient and all that but for people like me, who are on the receiving end, this is one of those things that you wish, you could un-invent!
[End of Rant]
So this is what being drunk means
So this is what being drunk means. The heads spinning and yet you feel good about it. You have that heady feeling and yet you are elated. You yell out songs at top of your voice and not care a shade about anyone or anything. You lose your inhibitions and only thing stopping you from being yourself is you.
So this is what being drunk actually means. When you are carefree. When you cant think of anything. When the mind is actually blank – devoid of all thought. Even when you are on the phone, with your best friend, all you talk, is nothing. Where there are no words. There’s not even silence. Just the noise of wind. On either ends.
So this is what being drunk really means. When you get that mental high just because you are on the road, driving a vehicle. Controlling it. Maneuvering it at will. Like a free bird. Imagine Delhi at night. The wind. Cold enough to send that shiver down your spine. And not so cold that you need layers of cloths. Awesome roads devoid of any traffic. Where you can zip around in your car. A pit stop at India Gate. And spreading your arms wide. The way birds often do, before they fly away. Imagine the flight. Wish you could take off.
Confession. I am drunk. Not on alcohol. But on caffeine and chocolate. And on the amazing winds that you get only in Delhi. And on the wonderful drive that you just completed.
So this is what being drunk actually means. When you are carefree. When you cant think of anything. When the mind is actually blank – devoid of all thought. Even when you are on the phone, with your best friend, all you talk, is nothing. Where there are no words. There’s not even silence. Just the noise of wind. On either ends.
So this is what being drunk really means. When you get that mental high just because you are on the road, driving a vehicle. Controlling it. Maneuvering it at will. Like a free bird. Imagine Delhi at night. The wind. Cold enough to send that shiver down your spine. And not so cold that you need layers of cloths. Awesome roads devoid of any traffic. Where you can zip around in your car. A pit stop at India Gate. And spreading your arms wide. The way birds often do, before they fly away. Imagine the flight. Wish you could take off.
Confession. I am drunk. Not on alcohol. But on caffeine and chocolate. And on the amazing winds that you get only in Delhi. And on the wonderful drive that you just completed.
5 mantras for succeeding in corporate life
After spending about five years in corporate life (ok, pseudo-corporate), here are a few things that I have learnt.
- Save your ass. At any cost. Even if it means learning those famed talents like ass-licking, participating in political Olympics, back stabbing, water-cooler bickering et al
- Yell first. Even before the blame games can begin. And since you have yelled first, you automatically stand correct. And it won’t hurt if you could be loud. After all you need to be heard over the entire din in the room.
- Master the art of passing the buck. Your table should remain empty. No decision should ever be traced to you. No one should be able to question your decision and more importantly, that ability to take a decision.
- Send emails to everyone in the world. Even your janitor. And the security guy. So that tomorrow everyone knows your version of the story. After all emails are free and people have lot of time on their hands. They do read each and every character. And since you are the one to have put things on record, and
- Text must be bold face with red font. Bolder the better. Redder the better. Bold and red makes a deadly combination. As if it was written in the recipient’s blood.
P.S.: Wrote this when I was mindfucked because of some random comment from a client!
Two years of an affair
This day, in 2009, I set sight on her for the first time. Just about two years and it already feels like a lifetime.
To be honest, unlike most affairs, it was not the usual love at first sight. I dint even know I would fall in love! When I first set eyes on her, she was with her twins, friends and cousins. And like any man drooling over such sexy looking dames, I had a tough time deciding. At one instant I wanted her and at another, her sister. And there was a moment when I dint want anyone at all. Such are the frivolities of the male brain! Most women will vouch for it!
Anyways, so how we met is a funny incident. Neo and I were chilling out one fine evening when he asked to go with him to some mall. We were on our way and we saw these hot bodies and like all single men, we had to stop and gawk at them. Like most such incidents, we would have admired the object of affection and moved on but bugger Neo said, let’s go talk to them. I tend to ignore most of the things that Neo asks me to do but here I made an exception. I was like what the heck! And rest, as they say, rest is history.
So we went ahead and moment I saw her from up-close, I realized that I have always wanted her. Since eternity. From ever since I could remember things. Though, the decision took more than ten years of deliberation, gathering courage and wait. It took that nudge from Neo. And some chemical reactions in my brains that created that spark that made me blurt out a yes on the impulse. And boy, am I am glad that she accepted me with open arms (as if she had a choice)!
Like all relationships, we have seen our ups and downs. And when I look back, I realize that I am the one at fault. In fact, I don’t think I have given enough in the relationship. I am guilty. Of ignoring her. Of not paying enough attention. Of not being with her when she needs me.
She, on the other hand, has been a perfect companion. Better than anyone you could ask for. She has never let me down till date. Never. Whenever I have wanted to be with her, she has been around. She has seen me through all sorts of emotions. I have laughed, I have cried, I have been high, I have been sad, I have been ecstatic, I have had that heady feeling of being free, of flying in the open sky. I have planned my magnanimous schemes, I have conjured those dreams. I imagined things that I knew dint exist. I went far when I was with her. I was in control. Of myself and my destiny.
I really wish I could do more for her. I really want to age with her and stay with her for rest of my life!
Here’s the best part! Even though I don’t look at her for days but whenever I am with her, we make heads turn. People take note of us. They talk about us. I can see that feeling of envy in their eyes. I can see through people. I can see that they secretly wished they were in my place. With her.
Its been two years. Call the day her birthday or call it our anniversary. Call it whatever but she is one of my most cherished possessions. Yes, a possession. She means a lot.
Thanks Neo. For helping me make that decision. Thanks ma, pa for giving me the freedom. And last, and not the least, thank you. For being there!
To be honest, unlike most affairs, it was not the usual love at first sight. I dint even know I would fall in love! When I first set eyes on her, she was with her twins, friends and cousins. And like any man drooling over such sexy looking dames, I had a tough time deciding. At one instant I wanted her and at another, her sister. And there was a moment when I dint want anyone at all. Such are the frivolities of the male brain! Most women will vouch for it!
Anyways, so how we met is a funny incident. Neo and I were chilling out one fine evening when he asked to go with him to some mall. We were on our way and we saw these hot bodies and like all single men, we had to stop and gawk at them. Like most such incidents, we would have admired the object of affection and moved on but bugger Neo said, let’s go talk to them. I tend to ignore most of the things that Neo asks me to do but here I made an exception. I was like what the heck! And rest, as they say, rest is history.
So we went ahead and moment I saw her from up-close, I realized that I have always wanted her. Since eternity. From ever since I could remember things. Though, the decision took more than ten years of deliberation, gathering courage and wait. It took that nudge from Neo. And some chemical reactions in my brains that created that spark that made me blurt out a yes on the impulse. And boy, am I am glad that she accepted me with open arms (as if she had a choice)!
Like all relationships, we have seen our ups and downs. And when I look back, I realize that I am the one at fault. In fact, I don’t think I have given enough in the relationship. I am guilty. Of ignoring her. Of not paying enough attention. Of not being with her when she needs me.
She, on the other hand, has been a perfect companion. Better than anyone you could ask for. She has never let me down till date. Never. Whenever I have wanted to be with her, she has been around. She has seen me through all sorts of emotions. I have laughed, I have cried, I have been high, I have been sad, I have been ecstatic, I have had that heady feeling of being free, of flying in the open sky. I have planned my magnanimous schemes, I have conjured those dreams. I imagined things that I knew dint exist. I went far when I was with her. I was in control. Of myself and my destiny.
I really wish I could do more for her. I really want to age with her and stay with her for rest of my life!
Here’s the best part! Even though I don’t look at her for days but whenever I am with her, we make heads turn. People take note of us. They talk about us. I can see that feeling of envy in their eyes. I can see through people. I can see that they secretly wished they were in my place. With her.
Its been two years. Call the day her birthday or call it our anniversary. Call it whatever but she is one of my most cherished possessions. Yes, a possession. She means a lot.
Thanks Neo. For helping me make that decision. Thanks ma, pa for giving me the freedom. And last, and not the least, thank you. For being there!
Ab kya karenge?
literally translated, the title of the post reads "what next?". Been some time since I posted something on this blog. I don't know if something important has happened that warrants a post on the blog but somehow I felt like talking to someone and I realized there was no one that I could goto and speak my heart out. No no, I am not inviting tissue papers or free hugs or donations or something. I am merely stating a fact.
So the point of the post was that I felt someone, something was pulling me towards this blog. I know that the audience on my blog is next to zero. Any random visitors that somehow find their way to these posts, spends like 0.003 seconds here. No, really. I have a counter that keeps a tab. This link. So despite being the most boring place on the world wide web, why do I still maintain this? And what entices me to spend countless hours trying to post gibberish, that I know, no one is interested in reading? Wish I could peep into my brain and come up with answers.
So lets put some links here. I stumbled onto a website called wetransfer.com. They have the MOST amazing UI ever. I wish I could steal their designer for Cyntax2. Then I heard Bossa Nova and have been downloading music since. Try it. Its worth the time. And bandwidth. I did think of yet another book (that I would someday write). It would be called The Secret Society of Chronic Underachievers. Even if no one agrees to publish it, I will self-publish it. First 100 people to comment on this post, get an autographed copy ;P Then in other news, I finally saw Bangkok. Not that I was dying for it but because my visa application got rejected. Though I became the first Indian in the history of Thailand's immigration files to be denied a visa, I managed to get the visa on arrival. My other trips are here. And attached is a map. For the warm and fuzzy feeling!
And until next time, namaste!
So the point of the post was that I felt someone, something was pulling me towards this blog. I know that the audience on my blog is next to zero. Any random visitors that somehow find their way to these posts, spends like 0.003 seconds here. No, really. I have a counter that keeps a tab. This link. So despite being the most boring place on the world wide web, why do I still maintain this? And what entices me to spend countless hours trying to post gibberish, that I know, no one is interested in reading? Wish I could peep into my brain and come up with answers.
So lets put some links here. I stumbled onto a website called wetransfer.com. They have the MOST amazing UI ever. I wish I could steal their designer for Cyntax2. Then I heard Bossa Nova and have been downloading music since. Try it. Its worth the time. And bandwidth. I did think of yet another book (that I would someday write). It would be called The Secret Society of Chronic Underachievers. Even if no one agrees to publish it, I will self-publish it. First 100 people to comment on this post, get an autographed copy ;P Then in other news, I finally saw Bangkok. Not that I was dying for it but because my visa application got rejected. Though I became the first Indian in the history of Thailand's immigration files to be denied a visa, I managed to get the visa on arrival. My other trips are here. And attached is a map. For the warm and fuzzy feeling!
And until next time, namaste!
Goldspot - Friday
Yet another piece about a recent piece in media that has exciting me. This time, its about an alternative rock band called Goldspot. They have amazing amazing songs. Soothing voice, thoughtful lyrics, the ones I can relate with. Here is their most famous track.
P.S.: Thanks PD
P.S.: Thanks PD
Finding Designers
I have spent last few weeks trying to find some designers. For various things that I would be doing in this year. And since I cant really afford to hire designers right now, I am having a tough time.
So, I started my search within my friends circle. I sifted through my mailbox and pictures etc and I I realized that I know just two designers. When I say designers, I mean people who can think. Not mere DTP operators. So both these designers, are better than one other. And both of them are in Mumbai and are working at very senior positions with famous advertising agencies. With so much work already on their plate, it is unreal to expect them to take time out and contribute.
Next was obviously the Internet. And I started by making a post on some design groups. I send an email on Design India and Creativegarh. Got some 10 odd responses. Some looked ok. Some weren't encouraging. Anyways, the summary is that no one seems to be agreeing to my outlandish and magnanimous proposals.
Now I am out of clue. I really desperately need designers.
I am wondering where is it that I am going wrong. Is it money? Or is it tha designers want to work with other more famous designers and famous brand names only? Or is it that I am not inspiring enough? Or is it that I cant contribute enough?
I know that I am no designer but I do understand design. I know it when I see some good design. But like all other critics and armchair activists, I can only comment. I cant do (or create).
Whatever I know about advertising or the business of communication, I have learnt at CLA. Well most of it. And CLA as a company has a very solid foundation in design with Vikram leading the design team. Their design standards are very high. And since I learnt the ropes of the business there, I refuse to accept anything that can’t match CLA standards.
Anyways, coming back to design, in a subsequent post, I will talk about how I look at design and what design means to me and what I expect from my design-partners. Till then, please spread word and help!
Originally posted at SG.com/blog
So, I started my search within my friends circle. I sifted through my mailbox and pictures etc and I I realized that I know just two designers. When I say designers, I mean people who can think. Not mere DTP operators. So both these designers, are better than one other. And both of them are in Mumbai and are working at very senior positions with famous advertising agencies. With so much work already on their plate, it is unreal to expect them to take time out and contribute.
Next was obviously the Internet. And I started by making a post on some design groups. I send an email on Design India and Creativegarh. Got some 10 odd responses. Some looked ok. Some weren't encouraging. Anyways, the summary is that no one seems to be agreeing to my outlandish and magnanimous proposals.
Now I am out of clue. I really desperately need designers.
I am wondering where is it that I am going wrong. Is it money? Or is it tha designers want to work with other more famous designers and famous brand names only? Or is it that I am not inspiring enough? Or is it that I cant contribute enough?
I know that I am no designer but I do understand design. I know it when I see some good design. But like all other critics and armchair activists, I can only comment. I cant do (or create).
Whatever I know about advertising or the business of communication, I have learnt at CLA. Well most of it. And CLA as a company has a very solid foundation in design with Vikram leading the design team. Their design standards are very high. And since I learnt the ropes of the business there, I refuse to accept anything that can’t match CLA standards.
Anyways, coming back to design, in a subsequent post, I will talk about how I look at design and what design means to me and what I expect from my design-partners. Till then, please spread word and help!
Originally posted at SG.com/blog
Why do people blog?
So SG26Jul asked me a few questions about blogging. I realized that I dint really have ready answers so I took a day off from work and wrote the answers down. Since I believe that I am a storyteller and I like to create background on things, the answers would be a bit verbose. And obviously dotted with armchair psycho-analysis.
So why do people write blog?
There are certain needs that are innate to every human being. Hunger, sleep and sex are the ones that everyone more or less knows about. Apart from these, there are certain other things that humans have craved for ever since they discovered that thumb has a different axes than the fingers and found the tail missing. Off all of those, there is this need for expression that humans find hardest to curb. So they have tried to express themselves with whatever they can, on any medium they could, whenever their time permitted. Case in point, the paintings found in prehistoric caves.
Also, more than mere expression, most humans, at least the ones who think that they think, want to leave their thoughts and reactions behind. They want to chronicle and archive things that they saw or experiences they lived. And some want to test their understanding and get opinion from other people on what they had to say.
And thus, I believe, started the use of walls, mud slabs, bark, paper, typewriters and eventually computers. To express thoughts and idea, to store memories and to share views.
In the modern world when nobody has time and relationships have taken a more functional meaning than emotional, blogging helps people to take care of these three needs. More than that, on a simpler level, blogging gives people a platform that they can stand on and yell. Blogging gives people a ready audience. Blogging gives people a shot at their fifteen minutes of fame. Blogging gives a chance encounter with listeners. Blogging gives people a chance to stand up for a cause that they identify with. Blogging helps gather people who are like you and helps you get more social. Blogging helps you find friends that you can never find in real life. Blogging helps you build conversations. Blogging gives people closure. And trust me it does, blogging gives people a reason to exist.
Whats the deal about bombarding online visitors with opinions and personal stuff?
First and foremost, not all blogs are personal. They are just reactions to experiences. Second, a blog allows you to express your view on something. And your view could be flawed, could be wrong, could be spot on, could be whatever. When you put it on a blog and someone adds to it, your view may change. You may see your error, or you may reinforce what you were saying, but it adds value. Blogging allows experts to emerge. Earlier you required degrees and years of experience to cut teeth. Now anyone who has spent enough time on something can take on any so called expert. Earlier, without a blog, your thoughts could only reach a handful of people. Now you can reach people all over the world and get their feedback. Its all about the feedback loop. Idea is to create a lot of positive feedback loops around your life and if you can do that you would see yourself spiraling into a different orbit all together! Try it!
Why do people read blogs? What about peeping into strangers life?
Simple answer. Answer is actually a question. Why is Big Boss popular? What gives people pleasure when they see lives of second (even third) rate pseudo-celebrities crib (or fight, battle etc) it out in a closed house riddled with cameras? We are voyeurs. And we like to control. A big boss, a blog, it gives me a peep into someone else’s life. I can remain behind a veil and know everything about that person. It gives me a sense of power. Remember the way you played with your Barbie doll when you were a kid? You wanted to control everything about it? Ok, it may be too harsh (even arbit) to compare a blog and a Barbie but I hope you get the drift.
And thinking about this as a non-philosophical answer, people read blogs because of the same reasons why people write blogs. People want to meet other people who share similar views. People want to know opinions of others. People want to give feedback. People want to follow. In fact its easier to find people who are followers as compared to find people who are leaders. Every human being wants to attach themselves to a cause, to a leader. Blogs are yet another way to get attached to a cause. Sorry for drifting into armchair psychology again. Coming back, people read blog because they think that bloggers are real people, belting real things, real thoughts on the web. Because they see security in numbers. Because they want to get associated with more people who are like them.
Arent people self-absorbed and strong believers of their opinions?
You would be surprised to know that how fickle people are and how easy it is to influence their judgment. You would be surprised to know how many people are NOT self-absorbed deep inside. Everyone is looking for gratification. Everyone is looking for affirmation. Why do people spend hours in getting the right look? Why do people spend thick wads buying perfumes? Why do people like Baba Ramdev and Osho get those millions followers? Why do we want to know idiotic details about anyone who is famous? Everyone wants grounding. Everyone wants a base station. Everyone, though is self absorbed, looks for ways to avoid being proved wrong in front of others. All our lives, we live the way others want us to live. Why are rebels, called rebels? Why are they outcast? Why do we frown upon outcasts? Pertinent question. Why do people blog and do they really care what others say if they are self-absorbed et al. I wish I had an answer. I only have a rhetoric to offer.
Do they care about starting debates?
They don’t. They just want to look good. They just want to be seen as standing for a cause. They just want to give themselves a reason for being. They just want to be happy about the way they are spending their time.
Ok, clarification. MOST don’t. Most want to just look good. There ARE lot of people who do it for reasons beyond self. There ARE people who are genuinely bothered and concerned about things. There ARE people who don’t want any mileage from what they do and they shy away from PR agencies and news reporters. There ARE people who do not goto Page 3 parties. Just that, I am yet to meet some.
P.S.: I am about to start something pro-bono! Its not a revolution but it is a public cause. Do I truly believe in it? Yes I do. Do I want to get famous? No I don’t. Am I a saint? No I am not. Why will I do it? I don’t know.
Why do people ask you to write a blog?
Simple answer really. You are super intelligent. You have the gift of the gab. You have a talent with words and language. You can express yourself well. You have an opinion on things. You are rational and emotional at the same time. With your emails, you reach out to a handpicked number of people. With a blog, you would reach out to lot more. Each extra person you reach out to, and gets into conversations with you, contributes to your learnings and experiences. As they say, a man is but a reflection of his experiences. And last but not the least, a blog would archive your thoughts and some day you may read back in time and see who you, your thoughts, your ideas, your view of the world changed over time. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, you have a moral responsibility towards the world, do it for all the other people that you will touch with your blog. Show them the path, o enlightened one!
Why do I write a blog?
To be honest, I don’t know. I have been doing this since 2004. Or may be 2003. I don’t remember. Its been a long time. Why did I start writing and why do I continue writing are two different questions. I started writing because I saw a friend write a blog in my college’s computer lab. It has to be 2003. I left that college in 2003. Anyways, those days, Internet was new to me. I wanted to have a page for myself on the Internet. I wanted to be famous. I started writing. Within days I realized I aint getting no famous for a mere blog. But by then I was hooked to talking out loud about things that mattered to me. I realized that I could rant and rant and nobody could stop me. It gave me adrenaline rush. Trust me, it did.
With time, it subdued. And then I realized how writing a blog has helped me. For beginners, it helped me structure my thoughts better. Every blog post took time to write. More I wrote, better I got at it. No I am not a JK Rowling or even a fraction of her. But I improved considerably. It made me think. Like this post. Every line has been thought about. It made me realize a few things about myself that I hadn’t thought of before I wrote this. Blogging helped me meet people and make friends with people I could have never been friends with. You know how boring I am in real life.
And on top of all the reasons, for person like me who likes doing a million things and cant stay with one thing for too long, this blog, has been the thing that I have done longer than anything else (apart from living!). Lets see how long this lasts.
And to end it, why don’t you try and write a blog for three months? And what about some feedback? See you in the evening!
So why do people write blog?
There are certain needs that are innate to every human being. Hunger, sleep and sex are the ones that everyone more or less knows about. Apart from these, there are certain other things that humans have craved for ever since they discovered that thumb has a different axes than the fingers and found the tail missing. Off all of those, there is this need for expression that humans find hardest to curb. So they have tried to express themselves with whatever they can, on any medium they could, whenever their time permitted. Case in point, the paintings found in prehistoric caves.
Also, more than mere expression, most humans, at least the ones who think that they think, want to leave their thoughts and reactions behind. They want to chronicle and archive things that they saw or experiences they lived. And some want to test their understanding and get opinion from other people on what they had to say.
And thus, I believe, started the use of walls, mud slabs, bark, paper, typewriters and eventually computers. To express thoughts and idea, to store memories and to share views.
In the modern world when nobody has time and relationships have taken a more functional meaning than emotional, blogging helps people to take care of these three needs. More than that, on a simpler level, blogging gives people a platform that they can stand on and yell. Blogging gives people a ready audience. Blogging gives people a shot at their fifteen minutes of fame. Blogging gives a chance encounter with listeners. Blogging gives people a chance to stand up for a cause that they identify with. Blogging helps gather people who are like you and helps you get more social. Blogging helps you find friends that you can never find in real life. Blogging helps you build conversations. Blogging gives people closure. And trust me it does, blogging gives people a reason to exist.
Whats the deal about bombarding online visitors with opinions and personal stuff?
First and foremost, not all blogs are personal. They are just reactions to experiences. Second, a blog allows you to express your view on something. And your view could be flawed, could be wrong, could be spot on, could be whatever. When you put it on a blog and someone adds to it, your view may change. You may see your error, or you may reinforce what you were saying, but it adds value. Blogging allows experts to emerge. Earlier you required degrees and years of experience to cut teeth. Now anyone who has spent enough time on something can take on any so called expert. Earlier, without a blog, your thoughts could only reach a handful of people. Now you can reach people all over the world and get their feedback. Its all about the feedback loop. Idea is to create a lot of positive feedback loops around your life and if you can do that you would see yourself spiraling into a different orbit all together! Try it!
Why do people read blogs? What about peeping into strangers life?
Simple answer. Answer is actually a question. Why is Big Boss popular? What gives people pleasure when they see lives of second (even third) rate pseudo-celebrities crib (or fight, battle etc) it out in a closed house riddled with cameras? We are voyeurs. And we like to control. A big boss, a blog, it gives me a peep into someone else’s life. I can remain behind a veil and know everything about that person. It gives me a sense of power. Remember the way you played with your Barbie doll when you were a kid? You wanted to control everything about it? Ok, it may be too harsh (even arbit) to compare a blog and a Barbie but I hope you get the drift.
And thinking about this as a non-philosophical answer, people read blogs because of the same reasons why people write blogs. People want to meet other people who share similar views. People want to know opinions of others. People want to give feedback. People want to follow. In fact its easier to find people who are followers as compared to find people who are leaders. Every human being wants to attach themselves to a cause, to a leader. Blogs are yet another way to get attached to a cause. Sorry for drifting into armchair psychology again. Coming back, people read blog because they think that bloggers are real people, belting real things, real thoughts on the web. Because they see security in numbers. Because they want to get associated with more people who are like them.
Arent people self-absorbed and strong believers of their opinions?
You would be surprised to know that how fickle people are and how easy it is to influence their judgment. You would be surprised to know how many people are NOT self-absorbed deep inside. Everyone is looking for gratification. Everyone is looking for affirmation. Why do people spend hours in getting the right look? Why do people spend thick wads buying perfumes? Why do people like Baba Ramdev and Osho get those millions followers? Why do we want to know idiotic details about anyone who is famous? Everyone wants grounding. Everyone wants a base station. Everyone, though is self absorbed, looks for ways to avoid being proved wrong in front of others. All our lives, we live the way others want us to live. Why are rebels, called rebels? Why are they outcast? Why do we frown upon outcasts? Pertinent question. Why do people blog and do they really care what others say if they are self-absorbed et al. I wish I had an answer. I only have a rhetoric to offer.
Do they care about starting debates?
They don’t. They just want to look good. They just want to be seen as standing for a cause. They just want to give themselves a reason for being. They just want to be happy about the way they are spending their time.
Ok, clarification. MOST don’t. Most want to just look good. There ARE lot of people who do it for reasons beyond self. There ARE people who are genuinely bothered and concerned about things. There ARE people who don’t want any mileage from what they do and they shy away from PR agencies and news reporters. There ARE people who do not goto Page 3 parties. Just that, I am yet to meet some.
P.S.: I am about to start something pro-bono! Its not a revolution but it is a public cause. Do I truly believe in it? Yes I do. Do I want to get famous? No I don’t. Am I a saint? No I am not. Why will I do it? I don’t know.
Why do people ask you to write a blog?
Simple answer really. You are super intelligent. You have the gift of the gab. You have a talent with words and language. You can express yourself well. You have an opinion on things. You are rational and emotional at the same time. With your emails, you reach out to a handpicked number of people. With a blog, you would reach out to lot more. Each extra person you reach out to, and gets into conversations with you, contributes to your learnings and experiences. As they say, a man is but a reflection of his experiences. And last but not the least, a blog would archive your thoughts and some day you may read back in time and see who you, your thoughts, your ideas, your view of the world changed over time. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, you have a moral responsibility towards the world, do it for all the other people that you will touch with your blog. Show them the path, o enlightened one!
Why do I write a blog?
To be honest, I don’t know. I have been doing this since 2004. Or may be 2003. I don’t remember. Its been a long time. Why did I start writing and why do I continue writing are two different questions. I started writing because I saw a friend write a blog in my college’s computer lab. It has to be 2003. I left that college in 2003. Anyways, those days, Internet was new to me. I wanted to have a page for myself on the Internet. I wanted to be famous. I started writing. Within days I realized I aint getting no famous for a mere blog. But by then I was hooked to talking out loud about things that mattered to me. I realized that I could rant and rant and nobody could stop me. It gave me adrenaline rush. Trust me, it did.
With time, it subdued. And then I realized how writing a blog has helped me. For beginners, it helped me structure my thoughts better. Every blog post took time to write. More I wrote, better I got at it. No I am not a JK Rowling or even a fraction of her. But I improved considerably. It made me think. Like this post. Every line has been thought about. It made me realize a few things about myself that I hadn’t thought of before I wrote this. Blogging helped me meet people and make friends with people I could have never been friends with. You know how boring I am in real life.
And on top of all the reasons, for person like me who likes doing a million things and cant stay with one thing for too long, this blog, has been the thing that I have done longer than anything else (apart from living!). Lets see how long this lasts.
And to end it, why don’t you try and write a blog for three months? And what about some feedback? See you in the evening!
Jaane Woh Kaise Log They
Sleepless for so many reasons.
Had nothing to do and was switching channels when I stumbled onto GuruDutt singing his most famous song ... Jaane woh kaise log they, jinkay pyar ko pyar mila!
You know I am talking about you sgMS.
The Morning After
Time for a Monday update. Apologies I couldn't make it last week. The week was very average with nothing special to write home about. Except that I took @sgElectra for a spin on Saturday. Forgot to take something warm and on the way back, nearly froze to death.
Apart from that, a friend (SV) gave me an idea for a series of short stories. Will work on it over March and will release it in April. For the ones who want a sneak preview, its about people, people watching, sociology, guesstimating fabricating, twitter and Internet. Keep watching this for more updates. Lemme know if you want to see some sample chapters as and when they happen.
With these stories, I will also unveil my writings section on SG.com. No, I am talking about any heavy duty material here. Just a place where I will gather all my fiction and nonfiction writings at. Idea is to create a repository of select writings and get feedback from people on them.
I also realized something about myself. At times, I get so excited by an idea that I get obsessed with it. And more often than not, those ideas are someone else's babies and hence I can't really work on them. Like this senior from MDI and his idea. Its a brilliant idea he is sitting on. I am not for a minute doubting his ability to execute it but he ought to have me on his team. More than working with him, I am keen on working on what he is trying to sell. I met him and pitched for my contribution. From look of things, he doesn't like me and I am not getting to work on it. You know I want it so bad that last night, I saw it in my dreams. Too bad. For me, for him and for the idea itself. But as with life, you win some, you lose some. Life moves on.
So I woke up early on Sunday. And since I had nothing to do, I decided to clean my drawers, shelves etc. At one point in time, I had this awesome habit of saving every bill, every receipt. From a ten bucks to whatever, I would not throw em. I would just dump them in a box. Ofcourse never to look at them again. This drawer that I cleaned had like hundred such receipts. Some dating back to early 2009. I tore all those and while doing that, they brought back tons of memories. Like this trip to Nainital with my parents. I knew what dates it was on, where all did we stop, what did we eat etc. Then there were lot of coffee shop bills. Quick research tells that I goto Barista more often than CCD. Then, when PJ was in Delhi, we had dinner at Pind Balluchi in CP. Then I found a slip with some phone number on the back. I don't know the name and I checked, I do not have that number stored with me. Then there were these petrol bills (and why did I ask for bills, god only knows), parking slips (I have parked my car at the most obscure places in Delhi), Gurgaon toll slips, bills for teeshirts that I bought (but never wore), shoes, even a laptop bag I bought in Dubai. I was serisouly amazed at the kind of things I have spent money on and all the obscure places I have been to.
And btw this is just one of the boxes that got cleaned. There is a bag full of receipts from the time I was in Mumbai. Cleaning, sorting them is another weekend project I think.
Anyways signing off. Too long a post to be written on a BB. Until next time!
Pizza for Breakfast
Lets talk in bullets.
- Imagine a day that starts with Pizza for breakfast. Leftover from last night.
- Imagine a day that starts with a meeting at 9. For cleaning up the pile of shit that some people have left on the conference tables while they were "working" the previous few days.
- Imagine a day that starts with writing a test for a friend. And the test is meant to help him get a job!
- Imagine a day where you decide that its the first day of your new life.
- Imagine a day that starts with all of the above. And more.
The Paper Street Soap Co Frame
So I was idle in the afternoon. Took some help from one of the art guys around and here we have ...
Orders anyone?
Orders anyone?
No More Coke
This day on, I will not have coke, diet coke, coke light, coke zero or any other form/brand/shape of coke.
sgMS please remind me next time I ask you out for a walk + coke.
Tu Na Jaane Aas Pass Hai Khuda
Moment I got up, I should have known that today was going to be a bad day. I missed my alarm. And why did I miss is? The damn phone was under me!
Then I got late, really late while getting ready. And since I was rushing for things, I dropped the watch – the one that I was gifted by MB23Oct. I would have dropped a hundred things a million times but they never break. And this time, the watch that I had never dropped before – broke!
And since I was getting late, I skipped breakfast. BTW did I mention that I am starting GM diet this week?
So far, having a really bad day at work. Fought with my team. Argued with clients. And am rude for no reason.
But then, the silver lining in the cloud – a song that I discovered while driving to work. The song is called Tu Na Jaane Aas Paas Hai Khuda. From this movie – Anjaana Anjaani. Its available for download here. Its so brilliant, its better than trance. Wish there was more such music.
Then I got late, really late while getting ready. And since I was rushing for things, I dropped the watch – the one that I was gifted by MB23Oct. I would have dropped a hundred things a million times but they never break. And this time, the watch that I had never dropped before – broke!
And since I was getting late, I skipped breakfast. BTW did I mention that I am starting GM diet this week?
So far, having a really bad day at work. Fought with my team. Argued with clients. And am rude for no reason.
But then, the silver lining in the cloud – a song that I discovered while driving to work. The song is called Tu Na Jaane Aas Paas Hai Khuda. From this movie – Anjaana Anjaani. Its available for download here. Its so brilliant, its better than trance. Wish there was more such music.
3M: Of Shoes, Books and Travel
Starting this week, I shall try and post something or the other every Monday. I shall call it Monday Morning Musings. Or 3M in short. Why would I do this? I dont know. I just want to. When would I stop doing this? I dont know.
Anyways, so this week I shall talk about places and things where I spend most of my money on.
To start with, I spend waste invest heavily in shoes. The paradox is that I hate to wear shoes but then I love to buy shoes. I have about 12 pairs right now and I think in terms of brands, I have more Puma than Nike than Converse that Reebok than Adidas. And yes most of these are sports shoes. I do have a pair for those odd occasions when I am made to wear formal trousers. So attached here is the latest addition to my collection! And believe it or not, I bought these from Patiala.
Then, once am done with all shoes, I buy books. I buy books about anything and everything. And more often than not, I use flipkart.com's wonderful COD. If I ever wanted a job, I would want to work for flipkart. Their execution of things is impeccable. If Amazon.com ever thinks about entering India, they should start by acquiring flpkart.com. Jeff, are you listening?
And then after all the shoes (that I buy and do not wear) and books (that I buy and do not read), if I am left with money, I buy air tickets. Between Delhi and Mumbai. I have that frequently that the counter girl at GoAir now knows me my face and moment I show up, she volunteers to give me my favorite seat on an aircraft - second last row, aisle seat.
Then, once am done with all shoes, I buy books. I buy books about anything and everything. And more often than not, I use flipkart.com's wonderful COD. If I ever wanted a job, I would want to work for flipkart. Their execution of things is impeccable. If Amazon.com ever thinks about entering India, they should start by acquiring flpkart.com. Jeff, are you listening?
And then after all the shoes (that I buy and do not wear) and books (that I buy and do not read), if I am left with money, I buy air tickets. Between Delhi and Mumbai. I have that frequently that the counter girl at GoAir now knows me my face and moment I show up, she volunteers to give me my favorite seat on an aircraft - second last row, aisle seat.
Wondering what are three things that you buy most with your money? Anyone?
Anyways, until the next 3M, adieu!
18 Till I Die
This is one of those posts that are totally meaningless and totally irrelevant. You write these things purely for the love of seeing your fingers do the little dance on the keyboard. And the funny thing is that you dont even know where the words flow from.
So one whole month of the year has gone past. On the first of January, at AS's place, I had told myself that I would make this year the defining year of my life. I decided that moment I was back in India, I would sit down and make a list of things that I would do and achieve this year. And before I realize, its Feb. And February 4 at that. Things have been ok to say the least. Some very sad on personal front. Some exciting. Somethings are looking up. And some are exciting. The whole spectrum. I really wish I could talk about those things here.
Come to think of it, why cant i? After all the combined readership of this blog is two as of last count. One is me. And other one is PD29Jun. At least I would want to believe that PD29Jun does read this. She never leaves any indication of having read this though. Anyways, coming back, I think I can make things personal here. Lemme take a call in the next few days.
And right now I am binging onto awesome guitars and violins on this cover of 18 till I die. Clichéd it may sound but I really want to be 18 till I die. I need to do a longish post on it and justify that I really really mean to be 18!
P.S.: The post was called "The little dance on the keyboard" before I wrote about 18 bit. Now its called what its called.
So one whole month of the year has gone past. On the first of January, at AS's place, I had told myself that I would make this year the defining year of my life. I decided that moment I was back in India, I would sit down and make a list of things that I would do and achieve this year. And before I realize, its Feb. And February 4 at that. Things have been ok to say the least. Some very sad on personal front. Some exciting. Somethings are looking up. And some are exciting. The whole spectrum. I really wish I could talk about those things here.
Come to think of it, why cant i? After all the combined readership of this blog is two as of last count. One is me. And other one is PD29Jun. At least I would want to believe that PD29Jun does read this. She never leaves any indication of having read this though. Anyways, coming back, I think I can make things personal here. Lemme take a call in the next few days.
And right now I am binging onto awesome guitars and violins on this cover of 18 till I die. Clichéd it may sound but I really want to be 18 till I die. I need to do a longish post on it and justify that I really really mean to be 18!
P.S.: The post was called "The little dance on the keyboard" before I wrote about 18 bit. Now its called what its called.
Can someone give me a credit card?
So even since I realized that I need to own a credit card, I have been banging on doors of all card companies and literally begging for a credit card. I call the companies myself and tell them to get me a card. I walk into bank branches and fill application forms. I even used my airline frequent flier programme to apply for a card. And its been more than a month now.
Since I have worked with GE Money in the past, I understand that I don’t meet the credit policy guidelines. Those days the risk policy said, if you are above 25 and living with your parents, you are ineligible for a credit card. Irrespective of the amount of money you make or the background you may have. And they checked for two things only – Intent and ability to pay back. I have all the intent. I am not sure of the ability though.
Is there a banker that can trust his guts and my promise and issue me one? I promise not to default on the card.
Since I have worked with GE Money in the past, I understand that I don’t meet the credit policy guidelines. Those days the risk policy said, if you are above 25 and living with your parents, you are ineligible for a credit card. Irrespective of the amount of money you make or the background you may have. And they checked for two things only – Intent and ability to pay back. I have all the intent. I am not sure of the ability though.
Is there a banker that can trust his guts and my promise and issue me one? I promise not to default on the card.
Koshish - Harivansh Rai Bachchan
Nanhi cheenti jab daana lekar chalti hai,
chadhti deewaron par, sau bar phisalti hai.
chadhti deewaron par, sau bar phisalti hai.
Man ka vishwas ragon mein saahas bharta hai,
chadhkar girna, girkar chadhna na akharta hai.
Akhir uski mehnat bekar nahin hoti
Himmat karne walon ki haar nahin hoti.
By Harivansh Rai Bachchan.
Via @radhikakr
Writer's Block
This year, 2011, I had decided that I will get more frequent with my blogging. Not that I have to blog to make the world go around its axis but I thought it would be nice to have penned down thoughts and random observations. They make excellent read. Trust me they do. Like for example, look at some of my blogposts from 2005. Or may be from 2008. May be from last month. Wait, did I make any posts last months? May be, may be not. Thats not the point. The point is that Mr. Murphy hates me to the core. Everytime I decide that I would do something, something or the other happens and I cant get it done. Ab blogging ko hi le lo. I decide that I shall write more often and here I am, stuck with a writer's block.
Waise while I was writing this, I had to lookup a couple of things and I think Wikipedia is totally cool. Its the next best thing to have happened to mankind after rains. I mean if I was God and I had to choose between creating rains or wikipedia, I would have created ... rain.
And while I was typing this, the free wifi at the swanky new Delhi airport ran out of time. Didnt I say Murphy? Anyways, it took me yet another SMS and I am back online. And now that when I think I was hitting the flow and getting back to writing some random gibberish, Go Air just announced that my flight is ready to depart.
Murphy Singh, tu mil kahin pay ... dekh loonga!
Signing Off,
On my way to Mumbai
Hello @sgNetBook
As of now, I am officially migrating to a netbook.
Reasons are quite simple. My work is all about making lot of presentations, making bills on excel and writing an occasional document or two. Apart from this, I watch movies, listen to music, spend a lot of time on Internet. And I am on the move all the time. And I have a smart phone (#sgBB).
A netbook allows me to do all these things very effectively. It weighs less than 2 KGs, it has good battery life (will buy a spare battery), it has a big enough keyboard to allow me to write fast without too many acidents, and yet a small enough form factor to allow me to carry it with me in my bag pack. Only thing that I would probably miss is a good mindmapping tool for a netbook and an alternative to iTunes.
For my infrequent design and dev needs, that are anyways minimal (and will remain minimal for the foreseeable future), I have #sgAcer and #sgDesktop!
To get it up and running, I have already accessorised #sgNetbook with a Tata Photon (till I get a 3G card), Sennheiser earplugs, notepads, pens and a Logitech cordless mouse.
P.S.: This is the first post on #sgWOW that was thought on #sgNetBook.
Sab Kuch To Hai
Sab kuch to hai!
Ek chota sukhi parivar hai, bade saare acchhe dost hai,
Kuch anjane chehre hain aur kuch ajnabi saaye bhi hai.
Sar par chhatt hai, sone ko bistar hai,
Jeb main paise hain aur khane ko khana hai,
Broadband internet connection hai aur mobile main balance bhi hai.
Thoda sa paisa hai, thodi si shauhrat hai,
Thoda sa namak aur thodi si mirch bhi hai.
Sapne hain, khawab hai,
Hausla hai aur kuch dhundali manzilain bhi hai.
Jo kuch chahiye, wo sab kuch to hai.
Sab kuch hai, aur kuch kami bhi hai.
Pal Pal Dil Kay Pass
Another gaana from Kishoreda!
Pal pal dil ke paas tum rehti ho..Jeevan mithi pyaas ye kehti ho..Har shaam aankhon par tera aanchal lehraye..
Har raat yaadon ki barat le aaye..Mai sans leta hu teri khusboo aati hai ..
Ek mehka mehka sa paigam lati hai..Mere dil ki dhadkan bhi tere geet gati hai..
Deewano ki ye baatein deewane jante hain..
Jalne mein kya maza hai parwane jante hain..Tum yu hi jalate rehna aa aa kar khwabo mein..
Bittersweet Symphony
SY says "He kept on dreaming. He kept getting bitter."
I wonder if he's talking about me!!
I wonder if he's talking about me!!
Twenty Eleven
2011 is here. And like all new years, brings with itself hope, aspirations, dreams, resolutions checklists and last but not the least, a blog post.
Normally on new years, I make myself some promises, make a few resolutions and set a few targets. This year is no different. I have promised myself that I want to end 2011 as the best year of my life so far. And inshallah I will do so. There are finer details, let me keep them behind the veil for the time being though.
Here are wishes to everyone for the year ahead. Hope the year brings with it lots of prosperity, luck and happiness.
P.P.S.: Hope to become regular with blogging once again!
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