Hear me, My Love ......

Eyes craved to see him
Darkness did defy slim
I sat under the dark cover
Heart wandering know not where....

Eyes sought my gleam
Amidst the glitter stream
They gazed and gazed
In the sky and beyond
Found not my star
Felt but Amor's spell afar

All the coy stars that twinkled
Had their blushes sprinkled
Elegant Moon who ruled with grace
Did yield to the cloud's embrace!


You see, Love's everywhere,
The Moon, stars and clouds not to spare,
Why then are you hiding hell-bent ?
Come, soothe my eyes ere the night's spent

Honours A.D.

If a weekend-newpaper reader like me can get to notice umpteen number of tributes to Amrita Pritam, one of the great writers pre-independent India had borne, no wonder if regular readers have found a lot more. All I knew of Amrita Pritam was that she was a Punjabi writer reknowned for her poems which were translated to quite some languages for their sheer worth. Back in school, at an age when poems meant nothing more than a bundle of lines putting forth a challenge to our retention and recalling strength to fetch those precious 5 marks or even less, all I wished was to have the simplest poems ever to make my life simple. It can't be denied that, if not all, some of her poems did fall into that category. Thus far, this is all this Indian knew of a legendary Indian writer.
To be precise, after the passing away of this great soul on 31st Oct,2005, I must have read around seven articles ( recall, I am a weekend newspaper reader) dedicated to her calibre each one depicting a different face of Amrita. If I have to summarise all that I read of her so far, she was a great poetess who emerged in the times when, interalia, education and encouragement was very distant to women. All the awards in her kitty speak for themselves.She was an ultimate witness to the aftermath of India-Pakistan partition with a lot of her poems succeeding completely in bringing the sight in front of our eyes. No doubt, she was a patriot every inch. At around the age when many like me would have done nothing more than playing with peers, she questioned the unfriendly attitude exhibited by her family towards others communities and always went strong with principles abiding by securalism. To talk a little about her personal life, I guess, her love for her love,which had become the talk of the town, was not any less than that of the legendary figures of the romantic world hit by Cupid's arrow. She was, no doubt, a woman of substance ,being a voice to women born without the vocal cords. And I got to know a lot more of her only after her death. Hence, amidst all this, one worry stands tall. Why is it that we flood all the honours due for a person after his/her resigning to flames? After reading a bunch of articles written by recognised journalists lauding her intellectual and poetic talent, only I know how embarassed I felt for not being aware of a great Indian's achievement. Don't these people hold the responsiblity to send the message across to the unaware lot during the physical existence of 'THE' personalities? Why award Honours A.D degrees while the need is to give justice to their persona when they are very much in flesh and blood? I am sure Amrita never was this aware that she was such a great talent personified in the eyes of the society. She and her likes deserved a whole-hearted applause, the sound of which had to linger in their ears to encourage them to accomplish more. After any diginitary passes away, it can be guessed by any person that the days to follow would treat readers to a lot of articles zeroing in on the personality.One does not require sixth sense for this obvious guess, right? Does it call for a soul relinquish this abode to get his/her acievements appreciated ? I feel, the sphere of journalism can spare some space in the papers to acknowedge the Indian talent. If a film star getting married for the second or third time , or a big shot getting her son married or a cricketer growing his unkempt hair can take space in the front page of the paper, why not these?...... No excuses please!

Hmmm....... this was my proud tribute to an unmatched Amrita. By the way , didn't this fall under the Honours A.D. class? Well yes, but who,besides myself, is to be blamed for this ?

Rash driving? call xxxxxxxxxx

I always thought that synonyms meant the words that could be used interchangebly. Till date, I guess, the definition still remains valid but for a BIG exception , unfortunately. Aren't 'Imprudent', 'Careless', 'Reckless' etcetera synonyms for 'rash' ? Well, 'etcetera' really comes in handy when I have to assert things even without having a comprehensive knowledge. My research on the synonyms for 'rash' is always on the run.Some friends of mine call me 'Rash' , pronounced as 'Rush', which possibly is a diplomatic way of indicating my impatience and the rest who find another nature more evident call me 'Rash' again, this pronounced as 'Rash' for obvious reasons! I am not sure if it is sheer coincidence that I am called 'Rash' and all the buses, taxis ,cabs etcetera ( again...... u know why etcetera is used , right! ) put a signboard saying "Rash driving? call ..... " Come on! I wonder why the whole world is against my holding the steering wheel...... what have I done to anyone at all? Can't they use 'Reckless/ careless/imprudent blah blah blah driving ? call ...(who the hell cares whom! )'
With my spending half my life amidst the vehicles in the traffic and these sign boards cropping up every nanosecond aggravating my anger, I feel , the contact numbers mentioned on all the vehicles converge to my dad's cell number alone.
I wonder why my dad insists that I don't drive. I agree, in my lifetime, some how I managed to clear all the tests and exams (not in flying colours though!) in the first attempts but for that dreaded 'Driving test' for license which took two solid attempts. Who asked the RTO staff to put bricks in my way ? Naturally, I would dash into them. 'They said that I failed the driving test!'. How fair is it to punish me for their fault Am I a jerk to go and hit the bricks if the path was clear?
I also agree that once or twice I hit the garage doors . Only once or twice, not that I perfected the reverse gear well, but I was denied the opportunity to even know by how many inches I would miss out on scraping through them. Of course ,I do agree that in the worst possible heavy traffic, I would bring a halt to the motion by introducing commotion with so many horns giving red alerts from all around. But why didn't they realise that I gave them a timely break ? 'What is this life if full of care, you have no time to stand and stare?' They were only permitted to stare but , Oooooops! their horns and their mouths bring hell to earth!' Can't the never-do-wrong driver class be a little tolerant at the amateur specimens like me?
In my dad's presence,my touching his car is ruled out. When he is out of station, he would have given directions to the rest of my home-mates asking them to call him up if Rash drives !
But isn't all the dashes and trashes in the game of driving? Risks are an integral part of life and to a certain extent, must be taken too .No matter what, I will get my dad's car onto the road.......... but please, when u see 'Rash' driving, call anyone on earth but not Rash's dad!

Juggled Addressing

I was asked to report to Mr. Vivek Mishra, my PM-to-be, on the first day of my working with the company. Timidly I went, with all the mixed feelings of a fresher,far from being aware of the corporate culture. After having introduced myself, it was time for me to listen, or in the worst case, pretend to be listening to all the preaching he did. To seem obedient, I started acknowledging every sentence of his with “Yes Sir”. For the frequency I had tuned myself to prompt me into acknowledging, possibly, I also could have said “Yes Sir” even before he uttered any sentence! (Just possibly……. Not too sure, because I was at my mechanical best out there fuelled by the anxiety and fear and my mind commanding me to escape from that extra-terrestrial world of workaholics! ) All in all, I seemed completely out of place.
After sensing my discomfort and perhaps, tired of my “Yes Sir” sequels, he, of my father’s age, said, “Hey Rashmi, don’t be so formal in addressing me with ‘Sir’. Please call me Vivek”. No different from his corporate peers, he too believed that such a gesture would ease the tension to create a friendly atmosphere and help me in getting along with folks. Hardly did he realize that it put me into a lot more discomfort for it shook the so-called 'ethics' that I was forced to get accustomed to in addressing elders with due (The Indian interpreted) respect. How can I forget getting beaten or earlobes twisted or yelled at, and when surroundings didn’t permit any of those, getting those deadly stares (which implied ‘Coz people are here, you are spared, face the consequences at home …… ) at the least?
Once bitten twice shy. All the mental and physical blackmails have had repercussions and hence, I resolved to call anyone elder to me (parents excluded) as Uncle or Aunt or Sir or Madam, as the case may be. A world of soooooooooooooooooo many Uncles and Aunts is incredible! ( I am forced to forget that ‘Uncle’ means ‘dad’s/mom’s brother’…… coz if that uncle is older than my dad/mom, my dad/mom too calls him Uncle….. God! Too tough to track the family tree! ) . After all the grooming for couple of decades now, I perfected the art of ‘respecting’ people. Now, I am expected to unlearn decades-old lessons learnt, in a minute by addressing someone with his name when he falls under the “Sir” category. Got to be a Roman in Rome, so, I made a hard-and -fast rule that I would address my colleagues and friends with their names, relatives and neighbours as Uncles or Aunts and others, Sirs or Madams. I really thank God that some people on earth are younger to me, to make my life a little less cumbersome as there are not many address restrictions to abide by with them in consideration. The new ‘Addressing Strategy’ I had derived helped me in complying with the ‘ethics’, a lot better.
The real agony started when new tenants occupied my neighboring house. Coincidentally, it was Vivek’s family that moved in. Now, I was in a soup. As per my ‘Addressing Strategy’, I had to address a colleague with his name and a neighbor as Uncle. Now what? Since, I was used to calling him Vivek for months now, I thought I’ll stick to it. But something worse to come yet, his wife (of my mom’s age, more or less) who strictly falls under the ‘neighbour’ category had to be called “Aunty’, right? How does it sound like, to address a person with his name and his wife (years younger to him) as Aunty? I am reminded of a hair-dye advertisement wherein, a person was called ‘Bhaiyya” and his wife ‘Aunty ( echoing 3 times for the effect )’ which was indicative of her seemingly old age. Sensed the worry? Perplexed? ………… Real soup, man!
The real concern is , why are we jugglling with cultures? Addressing an elderly person by name was not what I was taught. If only I have to let go of all that I have learnt over the years to get acclimatized to a new culture, why forced to learn it at all? Addressing someone as Uncle or with his name is not my bother, but the ambiguity involved truly is.For a slow learner like me , even with corporal instructors around, switching between such things is not a piece of cake. Am I not justified in demanding consistency after all the relentless toil in 'culture-training'?

Striptease

I had always heard that trends are cyclic, the old becomes new and vice versa. Grandma’s big nose rings and earrings have indeed become a style statement, isn’t it? Clinging to the old is the in-trend now. Could you dig some papa’s bell-bottom pants from the almirah archive? If yes, you sure are going to be the style icon in the aisles of the campus tomorrow (No guarantee about tomorrow, though. 24 long hours is just too much for vogue!). No surprise if the trends change in the amount of time that lapses between picking them and wearing them.

Clinging to the old, is a boon in itself…… kind of recycling the old to make a fashion assertion is most welcome, for reusability would only help us in saving those bucks which could probably be spent on other ‘useful’ things like, taking a girl on a date, freaking out with friends, eating out in posh restaurants, to state a few. It is, no doubt, sensible- who doesn’t want trends and money saving going together? Giving life to the old things is not objectionable, but how ‘old’ they should be is the question of the hour. Come on, ‘old’ should not imply importing the style statements of early men age!

In my history classes back in school, whenever talk of civilization and its gradation was done, if I remember, invention of clothing was a signification factor of the civilization growth, I was told. I admit, like any other interesting soul, I too hated history, but trust me, even amidst the lousy sessions, I am sure I heard and comprehended this fact right. Invention of clothing was indeed a prominent civilization criterion.However, hey Bollywood folks! ( Movie industry in general) ,I know cost-cutting and style-making is required to reap instant money. But, tell me if you got the (un)dresses that actors (Did we hear someone say ‘Mallika Sherawat’ ? well,I didn’t !) wear from my great ancestors of stone-age?

Disgustedly speaking, even after pondering time and again, I don’t get to name a single movie I can go with my family and watch. I feel embarrassed, but the actors don’t seem to be, for their presenting themselves immodestly. The move we need to take up is to discourage the attempts of the movie industry adopting such mean routes to easy money. It’s high time we sounded off against the A-uncertified ‘A’ movies!

Seemingly in the cinematic sense, the degree to which the girls rip their clothes off is the measure of their eternal love for their guys. Down with such depiction in the movies. Folks of cinema fraternity-please do not disgrace the essence of love.Essentially, media plays a very vital role in shaping the minds of the people. To youth, movies and entertainment is the most sought after media. Let not things deviating from decorum be instilled in their innocent minds. They might unknowingly indulge in acts, miles apart from the mores of the society. Media should shoulder the responsibility of playing up to its potential. Barring exceptions, actors of today seem to be cut out for the sole real-life movie " Roti, (no) kapda aur makaan". They have got to play candid roles in real life too.
‘Censor Board, please wake up! ‘ (I know, I can't ask ' Are you sleeping?')

Call-centres and Indian Independence

Feeling that Call-centres and Indian Independence are worlds apart? You got it wrong! Trust me,they are very much interwoven. Proving it through this post is my agenda.... Here goes the hypothesis followed by supporting proofs.

Gandhi said “India can claim to be independent only when women can move about at midnight too, freely.“ If we go by what nation’s father said, India has at last become independent. Sounding like a maniac? Let me make an attempt to prove the theorem……
You see, women (folks in general) working with the call centres and other IT related organizations, more often than not, go home at midnight, post-midnight or simply put, the wee hours of the morning , confusing even the Sun as to when he has to formally announce the strike of dawn. The first part of the theorem stating that women do move about at midnight too, is hence proved.
Coming to moving about freely, of course, they do move about 'free'ly coz the organization pays the cab-hire charges! The second part of the theorem is hence comfortably proved, I presume.
Consolidating the proofs, how does it sound like to call the call-centre employees, the real freedom fighters and call-centres, the institutions churning out freedom fighters?
Cool, naa? How I wish Gandhi lived to relish moments of Indian Freedom? Bravo, IT Fraternity! We did live up to the expectations of our Mahatma, if not to the expectations of our TLs, PMs, TMs and other components of the hierarchy.
If such a thought of mine sounds ridiculous, people, I am sure you are aware of the adage "An Idle mind is a devil's workshop! "...... I guess, this answers the cause for my being paranoid.

Mum-speak

“So, you did it again? “, said mama (To be precise ‘mom ‘…... one friend had bugged me asking if ‘mama’ meant uncle!). If by chance, I am not wrong (Not using ‘If I am right’ intentionally) she must have said it for the nth time, approx. I am averse to mathematics. So, I don’t break my head counting them.

When mom’s quote is isolated from all the intricate details of what led to its origin, at least folks who know me sparsely may suppose that I have scaled new heights in my endeavours! . The agony is that she mostly plays that recorded dialogue (more aptly monologue) frequently when the familiar audience is packed to capacity ruling out even the bleak chances of my getting that momentary false acclaim.

Coming to her expression, no one but me has the ability (this word sounds a little soothing to hear from mom’s mouth!) to worsen my acts. Her analysis of my messiness is, kind of, a trait not knowing upper bounds whatsoever and if it does, then resting comfortably at the peak All I am for is to do a messy thing followed by another (How else to refer that better than “So, you did it again?“ ).
If any soul has a sympathetic image of mine in mind and craving to know the secret of my sustenance, I would say, folks with gray matter haven’t said ‘Ignorance is Bliss’ irrelevantly.

Well, I am not aiming at venting my depression for there is no reason for it to be done. Certainly, my mom is the best (more so when she isn’t reprimanding). Such incidents are very much trivial and presumably happen in every house. Most parents do say that their peers next door are the luckiest to have such wonderful boy/ girl for a child. Surely, parents don’t mean it, and if they do, I am glad that at least people next door consider it lucky to have a kid like me and envy my parents. Sort of, changing perspectives for certain facts can’t be. Comparison is ubiquitous and can’t outcast myself from that. Talking of parental comparisons, it perhaps is a consequence of high hopes and aspirations to see their kids at the top. Who doesn’t know that they are the first in the world to rejoice for any success of ours?
The urge to jot this came because my mom started her monologue when I proudly said that my college-mate had prospects of getting an onsite-opportunity. Looking at my perplexed face (was wondering what I did this time……) she said, “you are just not proactive, not serious, not this, not that…….. to grab such opportunities “. This was just one instance of the many which tests my overwhelming ignorant attitude too. Day in and day out, the soap opera continues and all I do to console myself that I haven’t been at that big a fault when my mom speaks so , is by doing this mum-speak : " Mike testing 1, 2, 3 , Mike testing 1, 2, 3 ....... Mr. God, So, you made this lone faulty soul do it again, huh? “

Miles to go before I sleep

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep”


I must admit, I am not a fervent poem-freak but these are the lines of one of the very few poems I mesmerize. Many a time, friends and I have indulged ourselves in hot arguments on the implications of these lines. Reading between the lines, some said that it sounds too morbid while some others said that the poet is virtually expressing that he is driven by compulsion to go any further. Well, different folks, different strokes. Nonetheless, to me it is HOPE verbalized. I feel, it undoubtedly enlivens grit and persuades to carry on by reassuring one’s innate potential. To say succinctly, the essence of the lines just lingers around saying “Never halt, for you have it in you to accomplish more, If not you, who else can?” This is of course, an everlasting source of inspiration and depiction of undaunted optimism.

Way to go, Frost!

Rain, Rain Go Away...

Being a Bangalorean all my life, I can sure-footedly say that Nature rarely dared to be this fickle with the Garden city. Predictability was what we fondly called Bangalorean weather as. Well, monotony could have seemed monotonous to the rain gods who are in full swing. Bangalore indeed is deluged. People always wondered if ever the potholes in the roads would be out of sight. The torrential rains that caught the city by surprise, have indeed kept them out of sight!
Bangalore has been many outsourcing giants’ destination, wondered if nature's fury on New Orleans and Mumbai was outsourced to the city of silicons. As a mortal of IT fraternity, I had always wished for the word ‘deadline’ becoming obsolete. But, there is an immediate need to give this outsourced task a critical deadline, no matter what, unextended. Of late, I realize, ‘deadline’ is a necessary evil.
I suppose it was nature’s endeavour to give Bangalore a break from 24 x 7 metabolism. Who defied whom, the nature or folks, would probably be very much debatable to end in an inconclusive draw. Nature really rules but, it’s astonishing to see people battling it out to seek normalcy amidst the chaos. Hail Bangaloreans!
It’s time we understood that calamities strike and strike hard and we have got to gear up to encounter any that come our way, completely armed. It can’t be denied that it has been an eye-opener for us and what lesson we reap out of it is what really matters.

For now, Rain, Rain go away………. little Johny too has a role to play, Bangalore that it is!

Today's food served today (!?)

It was another lousy afternoon and a timely lunch break seemed a dire need for an iota of life. So, my friends and myself left for the cafeteria, of course with no expectations of deviation from the routine. As usual, we were greeted by the same menu,same aroma ( Did I say that?? ) and same plates and spoons which seemed washed though. But, for the first time in quite some time now, we were in the wrong. A surprise, to bring about a small change in the routine, awaited us. A coffee day counter stood in the corner of our cafeteria, overnight. Our joy knew no bounds at the sight of it. The chicken burgers, choco doughnuts, pastries and sandwiches arranged to the best inside the glass-case didn’t fail to tempt us. Everything but the guy who graced the stall was perfectly in place. Not a single rock on earth could ever match his petrified face! I knew instantly that I had to nickname him Mr.Rock. With our friend’s birthday round the corner, precisely ten days from then, we decided to party there on that day to taste all the goodies. So, we kept our temptations dormant for some time.
As each day went by, Mr.Rock became less and less busy. The glass-case housed the same (literally speaking) burgers and doughnuts that hadn’t moved an inch from their place. After a week slipped by, I could notice a signboard stating “ TODAY’S FOOD SERVED TODAY ” hanging right above the right shoulder of Mr.Rock which only helped me in visualizing the statue of Hercules, the only difference being that the signboard occupied the place of the globe! A hearty laugh that lasted for quite some time was the impulsive response but after it receded, the signboard’s presence drove me into serious contemplation……
Today’s food served today? I always thought and expected that today’s food would be served today, everywhere. Now, I have my doubts. More thoughts in that angle leaves me perplexed with more doubts stacked up.First of all, did Mr.Rock really trash all the week-old burgers and sandwi(t)ches? If so, why did today’s burgers look week-old? It sure must be a classic citation of heredity!
Anyway, I really hope that the signboard perks up Mr.Rock’s business, be it by miracles. However, with friends who were too busy to be this observant of the condition of what had to be our prospective party-zone, I had foreseen that I would fall sick on my friend’s birthday and stay away from office. I was determined to do anything to abscond from the party in that abode of anti-aging entities!

Maiden leaf of my book

The post title talks for itself.......... bang on! a novice's first post it is. Not sure what very significant issue I wanna rake up. oh yes! I got the topic for the blog..... now!
I wonder why always people think that any article written or published must have some so-called 'significant' matters in picture....... something like poverty, education, globalisation,economy,blah blah blah............... No one denies their importance , but is that alone signinficant?? I sternly believe in putting forth even trivial things in everday life that are important to me.... if not to anyone else! It could be my experience of talkin to the auto driver today, talkin to the securityguard today..... it could also be my experience of dealing with as simple issues as mere 'this' and 'that' rather than what is ostensibly 'THIS' and 'THAT' to many!
So, all I wanna say is that my blogs may not promise to talk about the national headlines, but surely will try to voice an average person' s very normal experiences. Yes, 'this' and 'that' is all I can afford to blog coz I know what I experience..I say it!

Well first post that it is, I have a long way to go, I hope I will be blessed with quite some trivial experiences that can make headlines....... if not anywhere, in my blogspace!