Beautiful Athens

 

Buckingham Palace to Southall

Late in the afternoon with no signs of the sun, we were in front of the Buckingham palace. It is grand and imposing. The building, the grand gate, the huge park and the guards in their red uniform, all, exude the royalty and power of arguably the 2nd most authoritative centre in the world. This was the centre from where India was ruled for 200 years. I got somber, slightly embarrassed for the fact that my forefathers and the motherland was ruled by the same centre.

We left for Southall from the Buckingham palace.
We enquired about Southall from the ENQUIRY at Embankment station. Southall was no where mentioned on the confusing UNDERGROUND network displayed at all the stations in and around London. There are numerous TUBE, underground railway network service, routes that forms the arteries and veins of the transportation network in London. The female at the enquiry counter suggested us to the take the CIRCLE route, alight at Paddington and take the National Railways to Southall.

It took us about 20 mins to reach Paddington. Paddington station is huge and very impressive; it reminded me of the 2 biggest terminal stations of India, CST in Mumbai and Howrah.The train to Southall was to leave from Platform no 12 in 10 mins. There are display boards at the stations which makes traveling easy for people who are new to London. The TUBE managing authority has done a commendable job of making available all the information at the stations. We boarded the train on reaching the platform. A few hours back I had seen a lot of Indians in the main tourist locations in London but most of them appeared from the southern part, opposed to that the few oriental co passengers in the train were from the northern India, punjabi to be specific. The train took us away from the quintessential pandemonium of a metropolitan city. In some time we were at the Southall Station. I was surprised to see the name of the station written in Punjabi, needless to mention that English was the first language. We got down and a beautiful Punjabi kudi perched from the following bogie. We were enjoying the feeling of being there, felt close to home. We came out and took a subway to get to the other side of the road where we could see some shops. We wanted to buy Indian curries and spices and have a good Indian dinner for which we had come to Southall. The shops visible on that side of the road promised all that. The subway carried the pungent smell of urine which is so common in any less frequently traveled lanes and corners in India. I couldn’t help smiling. I had never thought of sighting this in the western world. I was assured that this place would offer all that we were looking for. It started raining lightly and we hurried towards a shade of a restaurant, a hyderabadi restaurant. DUM BIRYANI SERVED HERE was written in bold letters. We were joined by a Punjabi family and another man who was divulging how he came to Southall. It was time for some Sutta break, my colleagues lighted a cigarette each and started smoking. I was content smoking passively. The rain stopped and we walked further on the road. The homely feeling grew stronger as we saw posters of the latest movies ‘FANAA’, ’36 CHINA TOWN’ etc on the walls. We moved further and realized that we were in an archetypal Indian shopping street. We kept walking till a MITHAI shop lured us inside. Our mouth watered looking at the Indian delicacies. We decided to have Samosa and Tea to begin; neither the samosa nor the tea was so great. Disappointed with the snack, soon, we got into an Indian super store and bought spices, curries and loads of other stuff as well. We had grown heavy when we came out. Mobility was certainly gonna be affected. We bought DVD’s of a few latest Hindi movies and some more of the kinds that remind you of your soul mate….from an adjacent store. All of us were hungry and were trying to spot a good restaurant. We decided to go back to the one that we had seen on the way. The ambience and menu seemed potential. We ordered Chicken biryani for all. We were confused to decide on one thing. I wanted to have so many things at the same time, would have been good if humans had the capability of storing the food for days somewhere in their body to be consumed later. Some of the living species can do it. I believe this happens to people who are devoid of the food they have thrived on for 25 years or so. We savored the Chicken biryani with Boondi Raita, the preparation was palatable and we ate it all. Happily we left that place and came back to the station, avoiding the subway this time, though it reminded me of home but it wasn’t certainly pleasant. A beautiful stranger accompanied us on our way back and my colleagues went gaga about it. She was in an extraordinarily revealing outfit and unfortunately I was sitting on the wrong side. Nonetheless the day was good, I felt close to home after a long time, near yet so far.I could feel my homeland strongly at Southall. The embarrassment that I had felt in front of Buckingham Palace alleviated. I was filled with admiration for all the Indian people in Southall who made their presence felt in a big way thousands of miles away from their roots.

Female Power

"The world's biggest power is the youth and beauty of a woman."

Indian Strategist Chanakya (350 BC - 275 BC)

As I switched on my TV on a lazy morning today, CNN had an interesting news to offer, not about the US Copter that crashed in Afgahnistan, but something about the BRA's.

Campaigners and activist from around the world had got together at a harbour on the island of Cyprus to raise awareness of Breast cancer. Additionally they set up a new world record of strapping the maximun number of BRA's together. The number is more than the number of woman I would have seen till date, 114,000.

Cyprus registers 300 new cases of Breast Cancer every year and most of them die because of unawareness. The local cancer patients thought it is high time they make people aware of it and make NEWS at the same time.

The number of BRA's they tied together came to be 118 Kms long. Phew. I am sure the collection did not miss any size, shape, brand and color sold anywhere in the world. The Video shoot showed people of all age and class donating in all possible ways to the cause. I saw some military personnels starpping the BRA's together, I mean they were doing all they could, they could not possibly have donated BRA's.

BRA's were collected from various parts of the world and brought to Cyprus.

The previous record of strapping the maximum number of BRA's was held by Singapore who could manage to collect only 79,000 BRA's. Well I believe a large portion of women on that side of the planet would not necessarily need it and may be that's the reason Singapore could not hold the record for long.

The modus operandi doesn't make any difference if you realize the goal. The casue was pious and I am positive that it has made people aware not only in Cyprus but other parts of the world as well. As one of the activist said, "There is no one in Cyprus now who is not aware of Breast Cancer"

Chanakya might want to rephrase his saying after hearing all this.

This campaign has also showed the POWER of things women use.

I am contributing to this cause by posting a blog !!

Inspiration

When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all of your thoughts break their bonds: your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world. Dormat forces, faculties and talents become alive and you discover yourself to be a greater person than you ever dreamed yourself to be.

-Indian Philosopher Patanjali

Usual Evening

I took the key out of my pocket and inserted it in the key hole, rotated it anticlockwise twice before finally turning it slightly on the same side. The door opened making a clicking sound. I pushed the door ajar and got in. It was dark inside, sun had set sometime back and there was just enough light coming thru the large glass door opening to the swimming pool to facilitate viewing of the outline of things kept in the room. Everything in the room was black. My hands reached the switch board on the wall close to the door and 2 bulbs came alive. The living room was flooded with light and the things resumed their original color. Everything was as I had left it in the morning, 12 hours back. Some magazines and CD’s were lying on the sofa, a sleeveless sports wear, guide to Greece and a Greece map on top of it, pen that did not work and some used calling cards were lying on one of the single sofa. The locked Laptop was lying on one of the smaller tables sized to perfection, a Nikon camera connected to it thru the USB port.

I took my jacket off and tossed it on the closest sofa, took my shoes and socks off and placed them in the shoe rack. I picked up my jacket and started walking towards my bed room, on the way switching more lights in the alley to force some light in the bedroom. As I entered the room, I switched on more lights for easy viewing in that dimly lit room. I opened one panel of the cupboard and took a hanger out for my jacket.

I came out of the room after changing replacing all the clothes neatly to where they belonged.

I grabbed the remote from the sofa and turned the TV on, selected channel 7 and threw the remote on the sofa again. CNN is the only channel on my TV that features things in a language I understand. I went towards the kitchen still looking at the TV screen thinking what to make for dinner. The kitchen sink was filled with utensils made dirty while cooking and eating the evening before. Some utensils that were used even earlier were still lying coz they were not needed the day before. One larger glass contained light brown water, darker at the base. I had consumed coffee in that yesterday, the glass reminded me of my most recent room mate who was a coffee aficionado and invariably drank coffee in the same glass. Sink contained a cooker, a bowl, 2 plates, 2 glasses, some spoons, a bigger serving spoon, frying pan and a small knife placed shabbily in the sink. The utensils were accompanied with remains of food that kept sticking to them. I always made sure that they were not big to block the drain. It reminded me of the dinner I had the day before.

I decided to make CHILA, something resembling a normal roti but made from a viscous paste as in dosa. I cleaned only the required utensils, the coming day maid would clean the entire house anyway.

The house owner provides us with a maid service of 4 hours every week. The maid comes once every week on Thursday and cleans the entire house, places clean towels and hand towels for every bed, changes the bed sheet and bed cover and also cleans any utensils that are lying in the sink or are used.

After cleaning the frying pan, bowl, serving spoon and one plate I washed my hands and wiped it using a hand towel. It was time for some music, I unlocked my laptop and created a playlist to last for a couple of hours and came back to the kitchen.Then I took some wheat flour in the bowl enough to make four rotis, added 2 table spoon of curd, a small spoonful of jeera, red chilli powder and salt to taste. An Onion was cut into small pieces and was spread in the same bowl. I then took a glassful of warm water and added to the mixture, using a bigger spoon I mixed it to make a viscous paste like the dosa batter. I mixed the paste for sometime to make it uniform. I then mounted the frying pan on the gas stove and waited for it to become hot before spilling some ghee on it. The ghee melted soon and I spread it over the entire pan surface. I mixed the batter again before pouring it on the Pan. Subsequently I held the pan by the handle off the gas stove and dexterously moved my hand to spread the batter evenly on it. The Pan was replaced on the stove. The batter started to change its color from white to yellow cascading from the edge to the centre. It began to solidify starting from the edge gradually taking the same effect towards the centre. I made a way for the serving spoon to get under the Chila and then started loosening it from the pan surface. This needs some skill which I had developed over the past couple of months cooking dinner. The Chila came out intact and I flipped the surface so that it cooked evenly on both the sides. I flipped it a couple of times before placing it on the cleaned plate. I made 3 more Chilas, modus operandi still the same.I then settled on the Dining table and savored the self made food with pickle, Lays chips and curd. Neat.

After competing my dinner I placed all the used utensils in the sink and came and sat on the sofa.I flipped thru the channels for some time and finally gave up, I took out the pen drive from my bag and inserted it in one of the USB ports. I had to review some documents from offshore and rectify them. I got back to work and continued working till I was sleepy. The music volume was reduced to prevent losing that sleepy feeling. I copied all the updated documents back to the pen drive and left for my bed room. I realized I had not spoken a single word in the past 4 hours. I had no one to speak to once I was home, the same truth crossed my sleepy mind again, just that it did not turn me poignant anymore . Deewaron ke hi kaan hote hain (even walls have ears) but why bother about tht. I got up shutting down the laptop screen, came to the bedroom, threw my shirt on the adjoining bed, lied down and pulled that cover.

KO PANGAN PARAKALO

‘KOPANGAN PARAKALO’

‘Hi! This is Vivek from First Data. Can you take the order?’

‘Yessssh’

‘One 100, One 31 and One 35’

‘Cheeken???’

‘Yeah’

‘Isspicy??’

‘Yeah all Spicy’

‘4439???’

‘Yeah that’s correct’

‘Okay. Half hour’ jovially.

That’s a standard conversation I have at around 12:15 PM almost everyday of the work week.I order food for my Indian colleagues and myself from KO PANGAN restaurant. KO PANGAN serves Thai, Chinese and Indian food.

Language and food has given us a tough time at Athens. It took us a lot of experiments before we could settle for a few things that were eatable and consumable daily.World renowned SODEXHO runs the canteen at FDI, Hellas. Hellas is the greek name of Greece. We tried quite a lot of things before finally giving up eating at the canteen.We ate things that looked like a preparation of running nose extract seasoned with dressing that reminded me of shit that came out if you had an upset stomach.

“Though it looks like a bad shit, it’s gonna taste good yaar’ one of us chuckled.

I reckon that even if I would have tasted shit, I wouldn’t have agreed to that statement.
Greeks are really fond of pork and cow meat, in all forms, and hence all the eating joints have varied preparations containing those as the basic ingredient. I don’t eat cow meat as that is something prohibited in my religion. Just that I have not been able to get over it till date as my other colleagues and so I was left with lesser options. I had to relinquish eating something that I thrive on because of the threatening H591 BIRD FLU epidemic, which has distressed numerous parts of the globe, until some saintly soul divulged that if they are cooked above 70 degree centigrade, it’s harmless to our system.

The first few weeks were tough and it brought out the cook in me. We started cooking dinner which looked good and did not taste awful. Now we cook food that still looks good and tastes satisfactory. We experimented with cooking and can now successfully boast of having learnt to prepare various items, all eatable.
The first time we ordered the greek food; pork and pitha (kinda Indian Bread), we went gaga about the taste. We had to ask a greek colleague to order that as the those people do not understand english. I am glad the KO PANGAN guy does, well you dont have to be a degree holder in english to understand words as 'spicy' and 'chicken'. The following few days we ate that till we got sick of it. It contains cooked but bland pork pieces on sticks like Tikka kebabs and Pitha along with a sauce and fresh onions cut in small pieces. We had to eat that till it was warm coz the pork pieces became hard if left for some time and then the jaws suffered.

KO PANGAN happened one of those days when one greek colleague ordered food from there and we got to look at the MENU, fortunately it was printed in English also. We tried that and from then on we have depended on it for our lunch. Most of the items are preparation of rice and though I am not a rice lover, I am addicted to KO PANGAN food.

PARAKALO means hello in greek. Hence when I call up the guy at the store picks up the phone to utters the same words which seems recorded, ‘KO PANGAN PARAKALO’ and the same conversation continues.There are numbers against the items and instead of saying the name I prefer telling him the number to prevent any mishaps.The food is delivered in 30-45 mins time and I get a call on my extension 4439 from the security desk, the ring which involuntarily leads to the secretion of gastric juices. One of us go out to get the food, pay the delivery guy and profoundly thank him for the food.

Ef Kharisto KO PANGAN.

!! Ef Kharisto is THANK YOU in greek !!

Confession

Long gone are the days when I ran to my mom with sad & almost crying face if my sisters or anyone else would deny giving me something I was asking for. The things that followed had just one purpose, to save the world around with all those strident and discordant sounds. At times all my wishes were fulfilled, at other times I turned into a devil and took people on an odyssey to hell. I exercised the right of freedom of expression from the age I wasn’t even aware of anything called as Law or constitution. In my early childhood I used to spend time with people I liked and doing things I loved. It was so easy to express discontent or pleasure right on the face of people who instigated them. Now that my mind is wandering in the past, it is reminding me of various events that exhibited my freedom. One of my neighbour’s relative used to visit them pretty frequently. I would have been of 31/2 years then and she was a year elder to me. I loved that female. I had a double seater TOBU tricycle and no one was allowed to sit on the rear seat but her. I used to take her for ride and happily pedaled incessantly for long time. It didn’t take me long to realize that I wanted to marry her and I proposed soon after that. I had spoken to my parents and my neighbour as well. The marriage broke because she left without meeting me one time. After declaring that I went to my mom and broke the news. As usual she comforted me with her weird logics and her loving warm hands. Her assurance that I would find a better girl was very convincing. My love for my mom was much greater than my love for anyone else. She never went against me even if I turned the world upside down; she would beat and reprimand but never discard me.

Expression of love or discontentment was easier then.

As a child I appreciated even strangers for doing things that impressed me. In the trains and buses, which we used to commute at times, I spoke to people candidly telling them about all the things that I had learnt. Most of the happy mortals responded with that smiling invitation, which was enough for me to explore, and involved themselves in the unusual conversation. The greatest gift we humans ever had was inquisitiveness. After my initial round of knowledge sharing I would come up with bizarre questions, the answers to most of which is still unknown to mankind. Quintessentially as any other child, the questions ceased to stop unless disrupted by an angry look from my parents or relatives. Their involvement increased when I ignored those well-known gestures of anger. They had to pull me back. It invariably followed with subtle apologies made to the co passengers. Some passengers were Angels; they went overboard and insisted my parents to let me continue with my activities. I never failed to exploit those opportunities and intensified my activities. Nonetheless, at the back of my mind I knew I am gonna be punished for that audacity.

Approaching anyone from humans to animals was easier then.

I had got myself almost bitten by a snake once. It stayed in a hole at the joint of walls of my backyard. We had a water tank at the same corner. I had seen it many times taking its head out of that hole. I could not find anything to force it to come out of that hole. I was too small to reach that hole, moreover the water tank was another obstruction. As soon as I went close, it retreated. One fine day I got hold of a long stick and I poked the hole with all the strength my small hands had. As soon as I pulled the stick out, the snake leaped opening its mouth wide open but failed to reach me and fell in the open water tank. As usual I rushed to my mom and broke the news. She was flabbergasted. She came out and saw the snake in the tank. In a few seconds, all my clothes were lying on the floor and my mom was frantically checking every inch of my naked body to ensure I was not bitten by the snake. The snake was killed later.

Taking risks was easier then.

One of my family friends were regular visitors on the weekends. They had kids not much elder to me and so we had good fun together. Their arrival brought the monster out in me. I would become uncontrollable in their equally matched company. Neither their parents nor my parents were able to do much. Parents are mature or at least they try to and hence they are striving all the time to act in a fashion that exudes maturity. Well I believe this is only for the actions that are perceptible to the outer world. The repercussion of kicking the monster alive is a sad story. Letting myself free was easier then.

When I was in Class III, my closest friend left for another place as his dad got transferred. I felt as if some part of me was taken away from me. I cried for hours together, tears rolling all thru my chubby cheeks. The tears had left its trace on my face. I buried my face in my mom’s lap and kept crying, I started gasping for breath before finally sleeping in her lap. I have not found a place which brings me more peace than my mom’s lap. Those days I cried not bothering about what others were thinking.

Letting tears out was easy then.

The expressions on my face then were the mirror of my heart. All the feelings and expressions were genuine. I lacked the knowledge of demonstrating a different feeling on my face. I am still bad at it.

Years have passed and things are dramatically different now. I have learnt to live without complaining, with things that I don’t like and even with the things I hate. Interestingly I done even make an effort to make it obvious. I seldom appreciate strangers for their actions that impress me. Letting people know that I like them or hate them seems such an ardous task. At all times I try to be politically correct and do things in ways that display maturity. The world around expects me to be that way and right after I entered my teen my parents insisted that I let go off those childish things and behave a bit responsible. The sense of responsibility came late as I was the youngest in the family but it came; there were people all the time to take care of my things. The passing years are taking away my passion for things, inquisitiveness, learning and risk taking ability. I have almost turned a deaf ear to my heart. The mind is now favored over other things. Long journeys end without any conversation with the co passengers and even if a conversation is started it seldom continues, reason always being the same, unmatchable frequency. I am ashamed to ask questions, the insuppressible feeling of sounding stupid made me hesitant in asking questions initially and gradually I stopped. I have stopped taking risks and do things in a methodical way. No more experiments, no more fun. Letting myself loose is so rare.I personally believe that we are never grown up enough not to approach our parents for any problem, but still I live with them or take care of them myself instead of speaking to my parents about it now.I strive to appear brave, not letting my tears out even when I am in acute pain or have to give in to emotional outbursts, though it hurts to keep them inside.

Growing up has come at a humungous price.

Now I want to look up to a child and become like him. I want to be as happy as I was when I was a child. I need to animate the child in me who is in a deep slumber.

Neighbour

Last Sunday it was bright and sunny. The extended Greek winter started fading that day and gave way to some sunshine and warmth in the weather.I was getting bored after having a self prepared sumptuous lunch. I watched TV for some time browsing thru the greek channels intermittently getting back to CNN, the only channel in a language that I understand.I asked my roommate who was lying on the single sofa beside the bigger one on which I was lying if he was interested in going out. It was a Sunday and he usually stayed home relaxing.After he denied, I assessed if I wanted to go alone without him. I looked out of our living room thru the large glass pane, the bright sunlight was alluring. I got into a jeans and a shirt, pulled a jacket over it, wore my shoes and waived before leaving for ….nowhere. I didn’t know where to go; I got out of the house just to enjoy the changed weather. It was really pleasant outside. I started walking towards the road that led to the main road that lead to Kiffisia, kiffisia is one of the main and large markets close to our place. The main road is a 15 min walk if you walk easily. On all weekdays, I walk with my room mate to one of the bus stop on that main road from where we take a bus to the office. There is in fact a bus stop which is really close to our house, barely a mins walk away. But only one bus 536 services that road and for the first few days we religiously waited for the bus till our patience gave way and we started walking to the bus stand from where we could take 2 buses to our office and numerous buses to kiffisia.As usual I reached the bus stop in 15 mins and started waiting for the bus. The bus came in another 10 mins and I boarded it. I looked around to find a seat but unfortunately there was none. I should have realized that by looking at the number of people who were standing. I went on one side and stood supporting myself on the side of the bus.At the next stop a guy boarded the bus, came towards me and stood beside me. His features proclaimed his oriental origin, specifically Indian, Pakistani or Bangladesi. Well I have never met any Indian in Greece except the one who work with me at FDI. He had an unkept hair covered with a lot of dandruff. I blessed him in my usual college style, not getting angry though. He asked me in Hindi if I was getting down at kiffisia. “I never take the bus, mera maalik mujhe hamesha apne saath car me le kar ke jaata hai per aaj uska bhai aaya hua hai Karachi se. Mujhe yahan aaye hue 3 mahine hi hue hain aur mujhe raaste itne ache se pata nahi”. I figured out that he must be a Pakistani, but obvious. The conversation went on and he enquired about my home country. I had neither thought about meeting a Pakistani anytime nor had I thought about the kind of behavior it would exude. We spoke normally as I would have with a compatriot. He gave me an insight of his country, asked me about my visa and other legal papers to stay in the country. He was working in Dubai and had come to Athens recently without a Visa, spent 2 months in jail after he was caught and was waiting to get some legal papers to stay in Athens. I was surprised at the ease with which he mentioned staying in a jail and then coming out. He spoke about attorneys and the government’s indifferent attitude towards law and order. He compared the situation with the one prevalent in his own country. After having traveled to various parts of the globe, I have realized that Mumbai is what people recognize India with. Talking about Mumbai is inevitable after India is mentioned. We spoke about Mumbai and the illustrious bollywood industry and then the conversation came down to Shahrukh Khan and Manisha koirala. He had seen them in Dubai once. He wanted to know how the other actors looked like in real life, though the question did not make much sense to me but I gave a brief explanation of the few stars I have seen.

Stand out of my light

When Alexander the Great visited Diogenes and asked whether he could do anything for the famed teacher, Diogenes replied: 'Only stand out of my light.' Perhaps some day we shall know how to heighten creativity. Until then, one of the best things we can do for creative men and women is to stand out of their light.

Crossroad

It’s the place where east meets the west and mountains meet the sea.
Greece can pertinently be called as CROSSROAD from where you can go back to any civilization you want, be it oriental, Egyptian, African, Scandinavian, Russian or even western.
Athens, the capital of Greece, particularly (the only place I have seen in Greece till date) is surrounded by hills from all the sides. One of the hills is the Acropolis around which the entire city is constructed. Acropolis has been the centre of Athens for thousands of years and scores of dynasty that has ruled this place. The PARTHENON rests on the Acropolis.
Smoking is the best time pass of these people. Every Greek citizen smokes irrespective of the sex and the social status.
People are outgoing and spend the entire night outside. Night life is more prominent here than in any other part of the world. Restaurants remain open till the wee hours. The performers in various pubs and discos start their show as late as 1:00 AM in the night.
The average height of men would be close to what we have in India. Females are tall and majority of them are good looking (at least that is what I feel now).
The entire city was renovated because of the 2004 Olympics held at its birth place.
Billboards and directions were then updated with English, Thanks to the Olympics, and the infrastructure of city was improved by leaps and bounds.
Though this place lies in the Mediterranean region, the temperatures remain close to the freezing point during winters and in summers the temperature soars to 45 degree C and above.
People move to the numerous islands surrounding Greece mainland on the weekends and spend the night there itself. In fact at that time the entire population moves to the islands deserting the city.
I am looking forward to having some fun in summers here but my Visa is expiring just at the time when the temperature would be at its maximum. Nonetheless I plan to spend the only summer month weekends on the beaches of Greece. Greeks have so much passion for driving that this place is highly adverse to the pedestrians. People drive at high speed and immaculate European cars respond to their unstoppable fervor.
This is also reflected by the high number of SUV’s running on the roads.
Athens is clean, green and looks quite beautiful. A lot of roads are lined by trees which makes it look really good. The terrain of the city is all up and down and houses are constructed on the hills also. The view is breathtakingly good after the lights are on in the night. People are fashion inclined and wear the most trendy and designer attires.
People eat a lot of beef and pork. Food is usually bland and distasteful for us Indians.

I am yet to see a lot of things that I have already mentioned above. And I am sure I will have a lot more to share and treasure in my memories once I start exploring the city of civilization which is almost as old as ours.

Stranger

The mercury reading 1 Degree centigrade @ 8:00 in the morning, deserted Bus stop, the only possession; a wooden plank, cars racing down the road making the chilly wind even more intense.A guy comes from the other side of the road and sits on the wooden plank. He is trying to contract his body to fight the cold.The air rises from the bus stop and whispers something to the tall trees. I could see the trees lending an ear by tilting on one side. It must have informed them of the stranger waiting at the bus stop.The trees tilt even further to get a view. Meanwhile the air has traveled to the mountains less than a km away from the Bus stop spreading the news. There is more commotion in the air as more trees try hard to see the stranger.Fast cars pass by on the road and the drivers give a quick look at the stranger.The two tall trees right in front of the bus stop still discussing about him, their murmurs loud enough to be heard at the ground. The stranger trying hard to comprehend the language of the trees.A black overly sized dog passes by barking meekly not knowing how the stranger might react to it. It turns back once to ensure it is not being attempted to hit.
An uneasy feeling crept in me coz of the amount of attention given. It was time for the bus to arrive. I stood up and started looking at the end of the road from where the bus would appear.In a minute’s time the bus was there, I boarded the bus and validated my ticket. I went thru the scrutiny of some more pair of eyes before taking my seat.
Well we all are strangers away from home and it’s a matter of some time before the new place accepts you and provides you with warmth.The bed gets warm only after you lie there for some time.

Girl in the Lap

It takes a few years of driving experience and skill to reach in front of the long queue at traffic lights in pune. You have to move thru the packed traffic taking meandering curves to reach spear head of the waiting traffic.
A few days back at one of the traffic lights I accomplished that feat with ease.
I stopped beside a luxury car and I glanced to check if there's anything worth looking inside, i found a girl sitting in the lap of a man in his late thirties. I did not appreciate what that man was doing but could not take my eyes off that cute girl. She was wearing a spaghetti top and her unkept hair was falling on her cheek which she constantly kept moving to the sides of her ear. It was dangerous to drive with a girl on ur lap, for a second an accident scene crossed my mind. I looked at the girl again and hoped she had a more sensible and caring father or whoever he was. I do not approve of driving with such a small kid in your lap.

Lonely walk on an empty street

Last night was different.
I went for a walk at about 12:30 in the night. I was feeling very uneasy. I realized it getting worse after the FM, which was providing some solace to the unwanted feeling, went silent. I wore some warm clothes and got out of the house not knowing how to make me feel better. I locked my house and took the stairs. It was cold outside, but bearable. I started walking on the empty street towards Kumar padmalaya apartments. The road looked so similar to my heart which was feeling empty and void. I had my hands in the large pocket of my sweatshirt at my tummy and I was clutching them inside. It made me feel better, for unknown reason.

All the major events of my life @ pune, which started nearly 4 years back, were crossing my disturbed and panicky mind. I started my professional life here, quite casually. A few months went without realizing that I have become a professional. The 4 month training period made it appear so similar to the college life. Classes, tests, hanging out with the new acquaintances etc was the daily routine. Coming months brought responsibilities and seriousness in me. Before I realized I had become a workaholic, sitting in office from 9:00 AM to any time. On a few occasions I stayed in office for more than 36 hours. Eventually my friend circle reduced to my room mates and the people who used to sit with me for long time in office and sparingly few juniors.
I had reached Kumar padmalaya, I decided to take the square route and go along Convergeys, parihar chowk, food world back to my place. I kept walking.
Amidst all this I got close to few females at regular intervals, some from office and some outside. None of them were interesting enough for me to alter my working hours. With these short intermittent breaks and the eventual abrupt end of the relationships that could have been, I always fell back on my usual working schedule. 2 years went by in the same fashion. Inadvertently I had cut myself off from the species called friends oblivious of the long lasting effect it would have on me. I was doing well professionally and didn’t have time to think of other things. The only time I had for myself was spent sleeping. A few months later I went to US for the big implementation. I had worked on the same project for the past 1.5 years. The charisma of the US of A lasted for a few weeks before crashing in front of my eyes. I worked for even longer hours as I had nothing better to do and well that was the need of the hour. After working like donkeys and saving some good bucks, I came back to India. In the meantime all my friends (room mates and people who used to sit for long hours and sparingly few juniors) had disappeared to other faces of earth. I started realizing that I had become lonely; sometimes the feeling was so strong I wanted to run away from myself. I did. I shifted to Aundh because one of my close school friends had moved in there. I thought I would relive the old school days when I had so much fun, when I was so happy. Things improved but not to the extent I had imagined. The new rule of leaving office at 5:30 had landed me in big trouble. It gave me time for myself which I couldn’t handle. I had forgotten the trick of handling such a simple thing. I really had.
Some other people came close to me in the days to come, very close. I had no control on that coz I was broken apart by my situation then. I was so lonely that anyone and everyone were welcome. I had become so weak and vulnerable. Eventually I yielded to wutever was happening with me least bothered to take control of the situations. Anyway it had not brought much happiness in the past.

I came back to the empty Street again. My heart felt heavy. I got reminded of one of the lines from a book I was reading a few hours back, “Never choose achievement at the cost of happiness”. Had I made the same mistake?
I would leave for Greece in a couple of days. I don’t know a single soul there, not even a distant one. I realized that my life was a lonely walk and it will be till I find a companion. I looked around to find someone only to get more disappointed. The street was empty till the farthest point that was visible. I wanted to run through the empty stretch away from my loneliness. The air had become cooler; my slow walk was not helping me get any warmer.
I wanted to be warm; warmth only a human could provide.
As I reached close to my apartment I hoped these lonely walks lead me to someone; I was desperate.
Can anyone hear?

First Confrontation with the 94 Batch

Meeting old friends still gives me a greater pleasure than having an old french wine.I went to Mumbai on the Makar Sankranti weekend to spend time with some long lost friends.After picking up Sumit K Jha (the nepali batsman) and one of my Adityapur friends, We went to SPJAIN college of Management to meet Lalit Pareek, the same scholarly guy who used to sit for long hours in the library with one of the toppers of our batch (in LOOKS department), Satsang Randhelia, Basketbaal freak and another topper of our Batch, and Vimala, who can take lectures on the survival techniques in male dominated society. We managed to meet the former two.Lodhi celebration was on when we reached the SPJ campus. The students were celebrating Lodhi with great fervor. Future Managers dancing around the bonfire clad in ethnic clothes reminded me of the bonfire in our college days. It was so different for the simple fact that there was abundance of girls dancing along with the equal number of guys and yeah; in One group.After doing some talking and leg pulling we succumbed to the the inevitable, “Talking about College days”.Saggy had an interesting thing to share. The event goes back to the inception of our college life. Some GACCH people from our Batch, namely Saggy, Sappal, Bhusan, Rishi etc had good fun during the early ragging period era. The audacious group would go to SUDHA dairy to get a glimpse of any female or similar looking creature and have the few pleasantries Sudha Dairy offered.During their initial endeavors Saggy and Rishi were caught @ Sudha by the 94 Batch. The others i.e. the blessed souls did not turn up for reasons unknown.The seniors took Saggy and Rishi in the jungle beside the down hostel. They accompanied the seniors oblivious of what was gonna befall. It was scary going thru that jungle though it was far from dense. The scantily lit college premises hardly promised any help for the poor souls. In some time they reached the end of the jungle which faces the kharkai river. It would be callous to put details of all that happened thereafter. They were made to slap each other as hard as they can, strip butt naked, go to their hostel naked etc etc. It was even more dangerous to plead and ask the seniors to return their clothes coz their mind could come up with things more innovative, troublesome, hurtful and offensive. Saggy and Rishi decided to leave before the seniors changed their mind and started walking with hesitant steps towards the UP hostel.Inundated with embarrassment they were unable to think of anything, they knew that on their way and upon reaching the hostel they are gonna be laughed upon by the crazy, and then alien crowd. Some holy spirit passed over the seniors heads and they called the Ma#$^&* 97 batch back. The clothes were returned and Rishi and Saggy somehow managed to wear them all and run back to the hostel.In the meantime the blessed souls were anxious and worried for the lost members. Quite like his nature, Saggy cooked up a different story and told the entire hostel. He told the rest of 97 how they bumped into the 94 Batch seniors who after taking their introduction took them to town and treated them with delectable food at some hotel. He did not forget to mention how good they made both of them feel and dropped them back to the UP hostel safe and sound.All the gory details of ragging in an REC seemed false. People who by then had never thought of going to Sudha dairy started venturing. History repeated itself; Sappal and Bhusan were trapped in the hands of 94 Batch again. They had no better experience but could not cook any story and were left @ the mercy of the notorious 97 batch who demonstrated none. They were the laughing stock for days to come. The actual story of Saggy and Rishi’s first confrontation with the 94 batch was divulged during a Daroo session in the final year in one of the rooms of Down Hostel.

Rang De Basanti

The 7:10 PM show was houseful when I went to book the tickets for ‘Rang De Basanti’ @ 6:30 PM @ E Square.
Ultimately I booked the tickets for 8:15 show and managed a seat in the 3rd row from top.

The movie was good watch, extremely well directed by Rakeysh Mehra.
He is same guy who directed AKS which bombed at the Box office. Nontheless I was impressed with his work even then.

Mr. Mckinley met these extremely intrepid guys (Bhagat Singh, Azad, Bismil and Rajguru) during his service with the British police force and witnessed their hanging. He was so impressed with their valor and character that he wrote a diary on these extremists. His writing mentioned all the events related to these heroes in detail. McKinley’s grand daughter (Sue), a film maker, was obsessed with making a film on these heroes. She lands in India in search of the cast for her movie. She meets DJ, Karan, Laxman, Sukhi, Ajay and Aslam (Amir, Sidhartha, Atul kulkarni, Sharman Joshi, Madhavan, Kunal Kapoor) thru her friend Sonia (Soha Ali) and sees the characters of her movie coming alive in them.
Ajay is a fighter pilot and Sonia’s Boyfriend (Thank God he mentions that @ the start of the movie, I was a bit confused coz Sonia used to hug and get close to everyone in the group). The other four are college going brats except DJ who had passed out 5 years back but couldn’t leave the college for his love for friends and college and an inner fear of losing his identity outside the college. They are hardcore party animals totally disappointed with everything this country provides. They are also of belief that nothing can be changed in India and it would be the same for years to come. Ajay had a different opinion. He believed that every Indian was responsible for anything right or wrong happening in a country. ‘No Nation is prefect, it had to made perfect’ was his thought which others couldn’t buy. As opposed to Ajay, they had no passion for a free country which offered them nothing better than a dog’s life.

Amidst all this, the movie goes back to the lives and events of India’s freedom fighters and freedom movement at regular intervals connecting contemporary analogical events. This has been done beautifully in the movie. The background scores at these junctions in the movie pronounce the effects and generate that passionate feeling in the audience. The movie carries itself pretty well with the soundtrack that is not otherwise impressive but creates a good impact with the movie. After a few casual rehearsal sessions, the characters delve into the freedom fighters psyche and start producing impressive acting for Sue.

As the events unfolds, Ajay dies in a plane crash. The plane crashes due to some mechanical fault in the MIG. Defence Minister alleges Ajay to be an irresponsible and denies any bad or old parts being responsible for the crash. The fearsome foursome kill the Defence minister and admit it on AIR. Eventually they all get shot by the Black cat commandos in the AIR building.

The entire crew has done an impressive job. Amir is GAU (Good as usual), Atul Kulkarni produces fire and passion better than all the other people.
Sidhartha is cute and thoroughly stylish. He even kills his dad as he was involved in the MIG deal.

The movie is thought provoking and mocks at people like us who want to go to the US and lead a better life rather than improving things here.

A must see movie!!

Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear

A berth in an AC train has never failed to allure me to sleep. I rate it as one of the best beds that anyone can have.
I usually cover myself with a blanket and sleep for really long durations with short breaks to appease my stomach.
I detest the idea of being connected when I am sleeping. Hence I switch off my cell phone before going into that blissful state.
I was on my way back to Mumbai after attending a childhood friend’s wedding. Attended the wedding and even before it got over I congratulated the half married couple and left to catch the 3:00 AM train to Mumbai. Had I missed that, I would not have been able to attend the office on the next day. The entire plan was made in haste and I ended up spending more time traveling and less time at the wedding.

I got up at 11:00 in the morning for some fresh coffee. Imagine opening your eyes in the morning to find 3 really good looking females and 1 okay looking female in the same compartment. I cursed myself for having slept longer. I got down from the top berth and looked at the females to make some space for me. They were all coming back from a wedding in Calcutta and had so many luggages that I had to put my single small bag in space between the seats when I boarded the train that night.
I have never been able to figure out why females invariably need to carry so many luggages.
As I got down from the top berth, one of the females moved to one side and made some space for me simultaneously apologizing for occupying all the space available for luggage. Voila! A conversation had started without any effort and that too so early.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face and came back to the seat quickly. One of the females was quite a look alike of Riya Sen; she was the one who had offered the seat. She caught my attention again. My presence had silenced their never ending talk. I knew within that it would be resumed with even greater vigor shortly. The uncomfortable silence made me take my cell phone out & switch it on; as soon as it was put on messages started getting delivered on it.
4 msgs and all of them were implying a sense of urgency, requesting me to contact office as soon as possible. One of my team mates called me up before I could contact office, asking me to contact my PL right away. She transferred the phone and my PL broke news that promised an abundance of opportunities for me. I was selected for a new project @ Greece. Just as he was about to reveal more, the network was gone. I fumbled with my phone trying to find a network manually; I did find one but was unable to make an outgoing call. I messaged my PL to call me again. The network was so bad that nothing was audible when he called. I hung up telling him that I would contact as soon as the train stopped @ a station. I called him up after some time when the network tower was so high it would have come out of my phone.

I was selected for an Onsite assignment @ Greece and was to fly in about 2 week’s time. The project was to be kicked off in a day or two. The short conversation was so pleasing. It filled my head and soul with anxiety and happiness. My face had become a mirror of my emotions. I had been waiting for something like this for quite some time. Riya Sen triggered the conversation again by asking me if I was flying to Greece. She had overheard my conversation with the PL and so had everyone else in that compartment. We started talking and soon another beautiful stranger joined. I boasted about our Job and how it frequently demands us to go to various geographical locations to implement projects for giants like GE, HSBC, CITI etc. I kept them interested with my talk for sometime but my mind was somewhere else. All but Riya Sen got down at Durg station. She was a good company and accompanied me till Akola. She was one of those people who had multitude of topics to talk on and who knew exactly how to start a conversation. She reached her destination at 10:00 in the night and I helped her with the luggage when she got down.
All awhile even amidst those conversations my mind was working on the plan to go to Greece. There was so much to be done in so less time. I was hoping everything to happen according to the plan.

I went to my berth after she got down. As I stretched myself on the berth, I was thinking deeply about things. I realized I was feeling sad because flying to a foreign land would estrange me from my few close friends who I spent time with. It would also mean short and less frequent visits to my family. Some faces flashed in my mind turning me really sad. I knew I would not meet some of them for long time to come. I remembered something I read so often on the rear view mirror of the vehicles, ‘Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear’. In the mirror of my heart I could see some faces for which I was feeling stronger than usual; they were definitely closer to my heart than they apparently appeared to be. In some time that berth in the AC train started working and I unconsciously covered myself with the blanket. I switched off my cell phone again and went into that blissful state.

Life @ Citi has changed

The subject describes what has been the agenda of the top layer of the people in Citi and the concern for the people falling under that layer.
After long years of wait, things seem to be changing... On second thoughts…it has

It's not been long that Citi shifted to Unit II A and changes were visible from there on.
Citi has witnessed the era of illustrious Amit and dynamic Madhukar, striving to reduce the never plummeting working hours of Citi Associates (CA's).
Unfortunately they couldn't achieve much.

Nature follows a cycle of crest and trough. The fortunate join the wave during crest and the others during trough.
Things changed drastically for the Indian Cricket team with the new captain Dravid on Board. It was ADIEU for the most successful Indian skipper going through a prolonged awfully bad phase. The same team is doing wonders with just one man out of the team.
So it's Good time, incessant praises and accolades for the Indian Cricket team now. Tomorrow starts another series to test the capability of the team which seems to be doing nothing wrong at this moment.

K Sanjay joined Citi a couple of months back like a harbinger of reduced working hours. Things started falling in place apparently. High visibility Mexico project that had people toiling day in and day out had its deadline procrastinated by several months. Workflow reduced for the other teams sparing the BAU support. Meetings, Status Reports for the first time took a back seat in Citi. So it's good time, praises and accolades for the new leader on Board.
Playing a stoic observer, I try to judge if the "King of good times" deserves all this. Perceptible changes with obscure effort. Immaculately smooth execution if he is one to have set the stones rolling.

Most of the associates are enjoying the change not musing over the reason behind all the changes. I am not an exception either. The status mail leaves my mailbox before 5:30 most of the days and I have all the time with myself to do wut I did not do all these years.
Leaving office when the sun is still out, playing TT, going shopping, reading books, having discussions and debates @ lunch, writing emails like this are the order of the day. I am loving it; not thinking much about the natural cycle.

I hope that the Indian team performs well in the impending series against South Africa consolidating the fact that they are here to stand tall. I have similar hopes for Citi too that has brought back some passion and spice in my life. Pursuing things that interests me gives me immense pleasure and a sense of fulfillment that I was missing for so long I don't even remember.

I am sorry for my comrades who left citi without having seen this change. It would be good to let them know that Life @ Citi has changed.

Happening New Year - 2006

10…9….8….7….6….5….4….3….2….1
The 80,000 watt pulsating music amplified to an even higher intensity.
Fireworks started in no time filling the sky with colorful light all around.
Our Female friend hugged us wishing both of us a very Happy and happening New Year.

The resilient wooden Dance floor started creaking and deforming as the people started to dance with greater vigor with the inception of New Year.
We were resonating our body in unison with the people on floor. The music was hitting the body creating vibrations that never ceased to stop. People were enjoying the music and dancing to the tunes of DJ’s who never failed to pick up the most happening and rocking tracks. As and when the crowd started giving way to fatigue, DJ’s would play an even better track and the indefatigable crowd came back to it’s toes again. None of us could stop dancing, but we three had to estrange ourselves from that wonderful crowd and an evenly matched DJ because of the GET IN THE HOUSE deadline of our female friend.

The New year eve started on a slow note. I had no idea what I was gonna do on the last day of the year.
I got up pretty late and saw the newspaper full of advertisements on New year parties being held at all the major clubs and resorts.
Much to my dismay, the entries were restricted to COUPLES only. Again that old thought crossed my mind, “World is never fair to individuals like me who can never manage to have a female companion especially for these occasions”. The thought continued and took me to my adolescent days when I wanted to become a MAFIA. Being a MAFIA ensured that you have the best looking females in skimpy attires by your side and more importantly you are so much more welcome at all the major events and parties.

Pune was abuzz with activities and I was yet to get a reservation done for my self at any place.
I called up chintoo to ask about his plan. He too had none.
I went to his place and then we started calling up at all the numbers one by one to enquire if we could be a part of their New Year Celebrations.
One thing in which we always beat each other is the ACTION TIME. We have always done things @ the last moment without an exception.
We started calling the most happening places first and went on in a descending order. The first couple of places were totally booked.
After a bit of trying we managed to find a place which had vacancies. Upon enquiring we realized we needed at least one female to get an entry.
They were allowing one STAG with a couple.
It seemed like a perfect thing for us. 1600 bucks for a couple, 4 free drinks and dinner.
We assumed that our close female friend Tanu had no other plans and would accompany us to SEVEN DEADLY SINS, KAPILA RESORTS.
The booking was done and we bought the passes from a nearby Ticket point.

Chintoo and I went to Shoppers stop to buy something jazzy to wear for the party. Both of us picked up a shirt each. Chintoo bought a dark very shiny one and I was content with a Black one having some embroidery. As we were coming out from the mall, I bumped into Tanu who was also looking for some apt attire for the party.
We had a short conversation after which Chintoo and I left for home.
In about 2 hrs time we were on our way to Kapila resorts.

We reached there in time and took a drink each before standing and chatting. Chintoo and I were filled with appreciation for all the good looking females wearing short skirts and plunging neckline. After chatting for a while over a glass of Bacardi, we decided, “It’s the time to Disco”. We hit the dance floor there was no stopping after that. We continued dancing for a long time till we were drenched with sweat and an unbearable liquid thirst. We took a short break from the floor, had a drink each in haste and were back on the dance floor again.

I was feeling a bit dizzy after coming out of that dance floor, I guess it was the effect of alcohol coupled with the latkas and jhatkas my body had experienced in the past 3 and a half hours. The feeling subsided in some time.
The three of us went to the Buffet and picked up something to eat. The dinner was awfully bad but we were happy for the good time we had there. Dinner was not so important.
We left the place @ about 3:00 in the morning heading towards Tanu’s house. On the way we were recollecting the moments we had spent sometime back.
It was good to share those moments with those idiosyncratic comments coming from the three of us. We dropped Tanu and sped towards my house.
I reached home feeling good and I am sure my friends share the same thought.
I would cherish these moments for long time to come for things that cannot be expressed, for things that I have not mentioned in this email.

We missed a person who used to be a part of our group. We would have loved her to be a part of the wonderful time we had at the inception of 2006.

How old is their marriage

I have been observing that curve on their body for a past couple of days.
Not that these curves have come into being now, but these insipid curves seem to generate uncanny interest in me these days.

I wonder how drastically the attention on these curves changes before and after marriage.
It’s so damn important to keep these in good shape; they are a gimmick to the opposite sex. They definitely make better hunters out of you and fetch good bait.
Wild Dogs hunt for Sports, Humans hunt humans one at a time and for a purpose.
Arguably most of the humans stop this practice after one successful attempt and eventually the gimmick loses all the attention. It becomes vestigial as far as hunting is concerned.
These curves become larger as the marriage gets older. Interestingly these curves change their shape rapidly post engagement and before marriage.
I guess it would be directly proportional to the time that one spends with their WUD be SPOUSE. As the comfort level between them increases, the curves become pronounced and palpable.
The change in size may be as drastic as 32 to 36.
The initial change makes the subject conscious but eventually the WHO CARES attitude prevails and everything seems fine.

As I enter the office every morning, I sneak a quick look to gauge the size of the curves of my colleagues @ kanbay.
Large populations of my Sample Data belong to my very own project as getting other details like the age of their marriage is easy.

The study was purely based on my observation of the subjects.
Myriad people with their age of their marriage falling between 3.5 yrs to -2 months adhere to my observations mentioned above.

As you read this line of the email; Stand up and see if you can figure out an equation between the Age of their marriage and Size of your colleague’s tummy.