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!