Sweets @ Karachi Sweets !!!!

Ajmal Kasab, a name that brings images of bloodbath, terror into the minds of millions of us. The images of cargo clad teenager, walking with a gun into the heart of India's business center, mercilessly shooting down strangers flashes across our minds. There are different versions of stories of this kid reaching India, the famous one being the sea route and pirates of Caribbean stories. Kasab's version in one of his statements was that he was picked up from Juhu, almost a week before the Incident ( " As read in some web page"). Anyways I am not sure whether, god knows the truth or not.

Anyways pals, the blog is not about Kasab, or Islamic extremism, it's about sweets. Like the mouth watering Rasmalai, Gulab Jamun's etc. How's it linked to Kasab and co. Pune is a city of outsiders, we have people especially students from everywhere here. And with fundamentalists of the great Maratha land around, I always have a insecure feeling roaming around on a Karnataka registered vehicle. But the on M.G. Road, on the Land Mark Arora tower building you have " Karachi Sweets". Yeah a sweet shop named after Karachi in Pakistan, my first reaction to the flashy board was " Where the hell are the fundamentalists who broke the panes of a poor Bihari's car". They should burn this shop down.

Lot's of time while roaming in M.G., there are friends of mine who always had a craving for sweets and they would hop into "Karachi Sweets". I would deny stating reasons ranging from loss of appetite, to a diet that am being strict about etc. The actual reason always remained the name of the shop, "Can any proud Indian eat from Karachi Sweets". Standing next to the cash counter, staring at the woman, who had skin as glossy as the Jalebi's, I wanted to ask this question " Why on earth Karachi".

I muscled up all my courage and asked her, "Why would you name such a sweet place Karachi". She smiled and asked my age and told that the shop has a heredity of 60 years. The partition resulted in them staying back here in India, where in a bunch of their relatives still lived across the border. She explained that they where from Sindh, and thus 100% pure Sindhi's and the shop is named after a city where their ancestors belonged to. I was startled at my own stereotype, from a different angle stupidity.

Then thoughts rushed into my head one after another, why would I hate Kasab more than ministers involved in Scam's. Kasab killed some of us because of reasons including ignorance, poverty, impoverishment etc.( Still has to be proved). He is just a button, what about the crimes committed by our own people which effects the economy, the credibility of one of the worlds biggest democracies. With all respect to Major.Unnikrishnan and hundreds of others who died fighting for our pride, there's a question that seeps into my heart " Why would I fight a tyrant thousands of miles away, when I have thousands of tyrants a mile away".

PS : I still cannot eat @ the sweet shop, with a smile from the heart !!!!

The Social Network !!!!!!

Walked out of the movie theater, inspired, dejected, with "what the fuck's happening question". Rarely can a movie do that. If you are young and you are not watching this @ the theater, you are kidding me. "The Social Network" is an exciting fun filled ride, which everyone of us will be able to relate to. The direction is flawless, the cast is immaculate, the script is amazing and it's a joy ride.

You get a feel of Harvard, on how kids at a young age think about building a business,how the society around supports it etc. The answer behind the success of the movie is for sure, the 500 million user base of the web page, but then watching the movie is much more that reading the book " Accidental billionaires". The sheer Idea behind facebook is linked to the basic need of a human being " To get laid". Like it's said virginity is lack of opportunity, facebook is a world of opportunities, circling around a human beings basic needs of staying connected, building relations, feeling secure etc. Any business built around mans basic needs, survives and facebook just immortalizes it.

From a retrospective angle, why is that we do not have anything close to a facebook or Google, in our country. Why is that success is accompanied with a big belly and Viagra in India. Do we dream big, or do we dream at all, what's the last time you saw a company built by the so called IIM's or IIT's making it big on the map. Why is that our Ideas are not fun, why is that we fail to entertain ourselves, could we ever smile and make others smile while doing business, god will I ever get to be a change agent, at least will I see a change agent before I get wiped out, like the drops of whiskey on the table !!!!

Cheers Mark !!! and Hey watch The Social Network, worth every penny!!!!.

Hitting thirty must be scary !!!!!!

Thirtydom, a term I coined, during yesterdays walk in the rain must be a scary place to be ( Thirtydom : Getting to the land of thirty's "Uncle land" ). To anyone who reads this blog, it's a crazy age to hit and makes you think from a tangent that screws you up. An age where philosophies of early twenties, suddenly get's challenged, a day sun probably came up from the Arabian sea. The hangover, back's up the fact and the vomit just autographs it. The loneliness, misery of making that medicinal tea, cleaning up the mess and last but not least no one around to talk about the pain swirling inside your head.

An age where in everyone around talk's about savings and insurance, marriage and kids and you are stuck with spending and borrowing, relationships and abortions. Yeah, suddenly the question pop's out "Dude what the hell are you doing??". The crowd around you in Barista has changed, they have an unadulterated smile, which is far gone from your face.The expensive watch, gadgets and the ever growing tummy, has taken of that charm, and within you a voice says " That ship has sailed" . Suddenly you are thunder struck by reality, when a single mom, points at you and says " Beta , say hi to uncle". "Uncle", what the hell??. I could be a big bro, not an uncle, but then big bro's are the college kids, the ones with the charming smile.

So the places that were yours suddenly feels odd, feels too young and out of the league.And you move to the so called lounges and Cafe's. The places are as quite as a cemetery, where couples look into each others eyes, some enjoying the pleasure of of doing it in public. The air inside is filled with topics that you never thought about.You could hear death trumpets of the most cherished component in anyone's life.Suddenly you are time trapped, too old for the young and not in place for the next phase. All your ex-girl friends have moved on, most of them are married, others are committed and some have taken the race to another level by naming their son on the bastard who broke their heart.

I bet you, the reason why someone would kill a happy, single life life is mostly because a fear that sets in, yeah a fear that would murmur deep down the fact that loneliness can be killing. When everyone around you is grilled and doesn't have time for you. Time's when your friends talk about the cost of diapers and the complexity of pregnancy, when they are tied up with their kids first day at school. You do not feel like calling them up at two in the night and talk about the chick you dumped or the one who dumped you. A phase in life when, your near ones are leading a selfless life, with sacrifices and bonding, you are stuck celebrating the self !!!. But then the rise of selflessness, must be out of love or through ignorance. Let's salute the ones who showed the gut's to stay single and the scared ones who took the other route. Hey, the last argument can easily be reversed and I am well aware !!!!

Generations of Maids !!!!

Maid's are hard to find. They are in demand and the supply isn't amazing. Born in an upper class family, I have always seen a bunch of maids in and around the house. "The house", cause it was my step mom's house, that's where I first met them. A woman in her 80's would walk close to a mile, early in the morning to reach our place. She sweeps a court yard as big as "Palace grounds" in Bangalore, filled with dry mango leaves, bamboo shoots, tamarind shells, crow shit, human spit and every kind of crap you could imagine. If I decide to walk around that courtyard now, It would take half hour and an appointment with a physio.

The lady had a weird name, no matter what the weather was, what the day was, she swept the courtyard. If she couldn't make it, her daughter, her grand daughter someone backed up. It's as if the entire family was destined to clear crap. She got a hundred bucks a month, the morning food (Cannot call it breakfast,Mostly left overs from the previous day).Privileges like torn clothes, tampered books, damaged vessels etc were part of the variable component. I still remember the spark on that wrinkled face, when I held her hands and asked her name. I am damn sure if I would have not asked her that question, she would have lost it "Yes" her name. I was friends with her and came to know that she has been sweeping the house for almost twenty years and has never known how the house looked like inside. She was not allowed, she was one among the untouchables.

Another maid, who usually walks in in by 9:00 am, is fair skinned and big busted. Has an ass wiggling walk and an irremovable smirk on her face. She would not talk or interact with the oldie sweeper, will eat her share of the breakfast, not the leftovers. Had a good rapport, with the chief. (My step mom's mother). She had a television at home and the initial fifteen minutes of her day starts after discussing the daily soaps.Sitting on the veranda outside the kitchen, she would almost quote from the soaps and make her boss cry. Then she starts cleaning the vessels and the kitchen. Sweeps through the Veranda and then the bedrooms. Laundry was done twice a week, laundry time is erotica time. She flashes news on the sex life of women in the near by house holds, about stains and stink and what not. While women around enjoyed the conversation, they never figured out their pictures in bed painted by our very own Madiangellooo. She never cleaned the toilet's, that was a mean job, for her class. We had another lady come in to do that. She was not supposed to be seen at all, so she would come, clean and run.

Times have changed, I am not sure about the maid community back at my village, but then my current maid is the best I have ever seen. She's 60, climbs three floors to get to my flat, owns a cellphone and has nephews with engineering degrees and does not want her third generation to work in BPO's. I do not understand anything of what she tells me, she speaks Marathi and that too in accent even Raj Thackeray wouldn't understand. But the she's cheeky, comes in early in the morning, and cleans up the only glass that we used to have water. Then wipes the uncooked,gas stove thrice. Knocks @ my door with a force so considerate that the wood wont get hurt and runs away to the next home where her appointment starts in exact fifteen minutes after ours is over. She does not work on Sundays, charges extra for bed sheets, gives you a lecture on the sari that she want's on Diwali, would not eat anything until it was cooked with specific intentions of getting into her stomach. In case of an argument, the only statement she has is " It's your home too, If you want it clean you need to help out". But then, looking at her running around,12 different places a day, making a cool 15-20k, I forget everything. All my anger just dissolves away. No matter what, I respect the effort she puts in for herself, Hey am a good employer !!!!!

Hey just scribbled it up !!!!

Have I ever failed in life, what's failure like, for that is it not necessary succeed. And success does not stumble upon you, cause you took a path which you never had a clue about. Today I am in a state that, I cannot fail. Whatever I deemed as success till date has not been achieved on a conscious effort, it's a flow I got into, and which leads me. It's dear to me not only because it feeds me, allows me to buy stuff and keeps life ticking!!!, but also that must have been gods vision till date. It's an illusion. a mirage, not success. It's a platform from where in I could build what I would deem success. Am I by anyways delaying gratification for the first time!!!!!

A realization that I cannot fail, embarrasses me, just rips me apart. Not even a single effort till date was valiant enough to be merited with a failure. Failure is a gift, a priced possession, found and fought by men who are passionate about something, Me the the mortal is not even close to it. "You cannot succeed", statements, took us here. Suggestions, observations and warnings stopped us from looking within. Might be a pinch of fate, makes me realize something. I have to start from the scratch, start loving something, chase that passion, attempt to succeed, actually succeed, in between find time to fear about failure and then invent failure.

Damn failure is far away, is it not, at least the current theory justifies it. What's failure when Success is not defined yet, whats failure more than failing in front of thyself. Hail the theory and let's move ahead.

Fight @ the streets !!!!

What ticks you off ??. Is there anything that you've identified recently that could make you uncomfortable, it could be anything. Let's start from the monster manager, to the cling-on- super glue wife or the girl friend who won't let go after you got laid. Anyone, actually anything, could tick you off. I have recently Identified something that gives me a pain in the wrong part.

Honking, is something that I am unable to deal with.It could get into your nerves when you travel 15 miles to work every day, on roads built by the white men, who robed us of the Kohinoor but at least had the courtesy to construct roads that lasted, lasted till we were hit by the outsourcing mayhem and the cascading boom of the Indian middle class. Honking I have analyzed fall into a lot of categories, hell lot of them.

Call center cabs fall into the most unique category amongst them. It's as desperate as the cries of the kids inside to get out of the Industry, cabs with a call center tag is almost an ambulance. Tobacco,alcohol, probably a bit of cleavage and last but not least money per kilometer are the only motivation for these cabbies. They honk at everything, even a red light, cause for them all that matters is to drop these nerds and get to the next destination. The next category is the "retired honk", oldies who buy cars with their retirement money, forget their hearing aid @ home and then take all of us to world of dumbness.Oldies honk in a pattern, as if they saw something which they would like to grab but cannot, this type really ticks you off, cause the grocery store will never complain if they are late by five minutes.

The next kind of honking is the sophisticated I.T. honk. Mostly done by well dressed men, who either forgot to join a call, or are late for a meeting or got kicked by their working wife. These men, blame it all on the infrastructure, lane discipline etc. Men in this category treat the horn as their bosses face, they tab it consistently and then end it with an orgasmic smile. They wouldn't mind getting behind a bullock cart and honk, because at work they specialize in something similar "pushing underpaid kids to deliver world class technology".

Honking by rickshaws are like fart in a tornado, they never get heard, with the amount of noise around, their efforts to add to noise pollution is never recognized. Truckers and the bikers do their part, but then they really do not follow a pattern, it's simply irritating. Now the question is why do we honk, Is it that honking helps you get ahead. How many times do we think before we honk, does it actually give the desired results on the street. Let's ask an entirely different question, does your cribbing about life make it any better. How many of us think about car pooling, how many of us think about using different time slots to commute to work, how many of our corporates, offer work from home cause they understand than commuting to work actually kills the employee productivity. Hey, I just woke up, we are in India, where driving a car to the toilet is also considered as a status symbol!!!!.

The lost bag and Terror !!!!!!

Terrorism sucks, people get killed and there is a lot of blood shed. Young men are lined up in the name of religion, some get into it for money and the rest because they didn't have much to do. Clerics and Military leaders, with different approaches to the same output, Politicians and arms dealers composing music for the same movie, the word terrorism has gained huge significance in every society in the world.

Now however bad an Ideology is or however irrelevant the Ideology is it has some positive outcomes. I am not cheer leading anything or being happy about anything here, but then any Ideology comes with an expiry date, might be it's the expiry date associated to the leaders who preached it, or to the society in which a certain condition prevailed etc. Parties based on Communism for example are allegedly pulling down the economic growth rate of certain states in our country.

Anyways, after a long day @ work, I had plans to eat cheese Masala dosa at a joint next to my home. Yeah yummy cheese masala dosa, a north Indian variant of an exceptionally good south Indian dish. While eating the dosa, I had to keep my laptop bag down, didn't want work to come between me and the delicacy. Dosa was tasty,too tasty that it made me forget not just the work but the bag as well. I paid the bill and moved on to my favorite milk shop. Milk packets usually go to the front zip of the bag and with the bag being not present, front zip was inaccessible !!!!.I Rode the bike back at a speed that would have won me some accolades in case it was a race, people rather hurled some sweet words in Marathi.

The ride back was 3 minutes to the max, my mind wandered to the local police station, where I would meet the pot bellied, tobacco chewing sub inspector, who would racially discriminate me and probably ask me to pay for registering a complaint and then the rest to investigate (In EMI's). Images of my manager, the asset team,and questions on how could you forget the bag, and then the confirmation stamp of irresponsibility from colleagues around. Thoughts just drove me nuts, parked the bike without checking out the hot babe in pink, ran to the restaurant. My bag was lying there with three onlookers speculating about the probabilities of an explosion. Yes no one dared to touch it, people were just about to wait and initiate a call for cops to come an do something about it.

Yeah, the society we live in are scared, shit scared of dying in a blast. Why not because as a tax payer we have seen these onslaughts for over a decade now, every nook and corner of the country has experienced a bit. But then the ride back home was soothing, why not I saved a lot of money, probably a good amount of time and last but not least did not add to my already damaged image " The happy go lucky guy". There are times in life, you would have thanked enemies, like I thank my ex- girlfriends father (marrying at that age would have been a disaster), On the ride back I thought, that terrorism has done certain things that are significant : Now we do not take anything lying on the street, We check on the Identity of the people we rent homes, We avoid crowded places at days when being @ home is a different level of fun altogether. Might be there is disagreement, but then not for the sheer trauma we are in, there is no way that I would have got my bag back !!!!!.

Jailed for Ever !!!!!

On paid vacation, doing time, behind the bars , familiar expressions right ??. Expressions used to bring out the fact that some one is locked and is deprived of his freedom as he misused it, posed a threat to our Civilized, Politicized society. An expression that brings in images of tall men, with scars all over their face, images of unclean toilets, dark pathways, images of fights over food served in barely clean vessels. Disgusting, disturbing images aren’t they. I get to see these at times, though in a different context, images with well dressed men chained to laptops, to their loan accounts and to the commitments they took up expecting those to make life better.

Not a pleasant seen, I know, never a pleasant scene.Being locked up is no big deal, the only point being the fact that your life conditions deteriorate entirely. Instead of the fluffy silk bed, you’d find a torn mat with rats licking your legs. Breakfast at McDonald's will be replaced by Mr. Donald’s, who is tenured on chopping up women after raping them !!!!!. Hey, hey , hey what’s the point, Let’s get to the point.

Technically how many of us are free. Being Jailed or locked up in a prison, isn’t it just a physical representation of the state we are in. Let’s answer a set of simple Questions : How many of us could actually spend their entire months salary on ourselves,Just for a month. Yes I am talking about the salary day, how many of us would dare to move ahead of a Pizza hut or a night club. Let’s say at work, how many of us could actually change things around, being in the most renowned acceptable, employee friendly work setup’s how many of us could dare to ask a Why ???.

Aren’t we working for the Banks that lend us money for at least 15 days a month. Then another 10 days for the school fee, food and a negligible two to three days for the stuff that we call life. Do we have Jailers around us, physically no, but emotionally hundreds of them, Jailers who push Ideas on us, who trample our Ideas, worst scenarios who borrow our’s and do the dance. Manager’s this is nothing against you, though endangered there is a genre of angels amongst you, we acknowledge. Let’s check out the fights in our corporate jungle, don’t we fight because of much sillier reasons than in an actual Jail, for reasons as simple as “he did not smile at me”, “how dare could he talk to me like that” etc. Have we turned out to be a gunny bag of ego’s being punched around just to get more swollen.

Now do we have a parole system, where in we get breaks??. Yes we all do, we rush to a favorite spot and feel insecure about the advances @ work. At the pinnacle of an intense romantic act, we dial a colleagues number and ask “What’s up”, when the conversation ends, your turned on partner is not just "turned off", to a certain extend pissed off. We keep track of meager things and that keeps us chained, Jailed in a frame of mind. A frame that’s as big as a laptop screen or the default size of a Microsoft Exchange mailbox or to the max the size of a cubicle or for the Exceptionally ambitious and arrogant a Cabin with a rocking chair, with a dashing secretary.

You would have watched news channels reporting Jail break’s, with pictures of men who barely are humane in their appearance. Have you ever seen or heard of someone, who broke the kind of prison we are in, ever. No one would dare to attempt to break this vicious cycle. I think, “ Think”, yeah this is the least ever thing a human does on a daily basis, we are not allowed to, even if we are, we are like a cow tied to a tree, our thoughts would circle around topics planted into us, by our parents, friends and our very own society. Why is that you are asked to buy a home early in your life, why marry in the mid twenties, Kids in the early, late twenties, then get into jobs which are safe with bigger safer players, why, why, why. If you look at it from an angle that could be accused of being weird, being selfish and against the existing philosophies, these are unwritten rules that get’s you a life sentence without doing a crime. Say let’s take a Jewish kid born in Manhattan, what’s his sentence going to be, he is in a Jail the day he is born.

The exerts from his sentence would say the following “ Would go to a good public school, is supposed to love Math and Physics, will graduate in either Economics or Engineering or Finance, Will either be a lawyer, trader, banker or to the max a scientist. See the point here is not that the poor chap is not leading a good life, he definitely is, but then is it a life of his choice, well no one cares. It’s not the feet that’s chained us up, it’s the freaking mind, it’s much more tougher when the fight is within, guns bombs and force wouldn’t do much help. Will we ever break the chains ??? “ A million dollar question” and “ I am trying”.

Happy Realization !!!!!

I would always be amazed to see punks, wearing T-shirts printed with weird men, men with abnormal hair growth, who have a layer of Hash floating on their faces, like a layer of fat above boiled milk. With dark circles and tattoos, adding to the agony , I would rather be scared at them not me while looking @ the mirror. But things have taken a turn, a Sharp U turn, John Lennon's birthday and Google’s doodle has done the trick.

The last weekend, I thought about browsing on what’s up with Beatles and how come could they could claim their fame above god!!!!!. My friends, this blog is to all those young punks who sing Enrique, breathe Eminem, could cry a river for Justin Timberlake. If you have not listened to Beatles, you ain’t eligible to hum an English one, they are the ones, period.

Might be it’s late for me, cause I always avoided, these so called classics. But once you listen to Paul singing “Yesterday”, I am sure nothing else could match the feel, Enrique’s tears are just cat’s piss, take it from me, nothing personal, but rarely does a number gives you the complete feel without naked Chicks. If voice is magic, and music could create an aura of Invincibility, it’s only Beatles who could match those words. I am going to be a punk myself, I feel bad that I never wore a Beatles T-Shirt, never drank Irish whiskey and never screamed @ a concert.


Now go start downloading and listening to them. Beatles songs and trivia are worth the effort. This is what you must look out for :

• Beatles, famous than Jesus.( Interview with Beatles)
• The Man behind John Lennon’s murder.
• About the Song Hey Jude.
• Trivia behind Yesterday.
• Sexuality of Beatles manager and “ Hey you got to hide your love away”
• About Ringo Star.

Last but not least, most of their songs has something linked to real life and it’s fun finding out, Beatles equals magic!!!!!, you want to listen some.....

A dream to wake up for !!!!!!

Living an intentional life has been quite a dream. Intentional living is nothing,it's the most simplest of stuff to be said and not done. Have you heard of something similar "Will power is not climbing mountains and beating the world, it's as simple as not eating a chocolate when you have decided not to". It's at a very higher level delaying gratification. Delaying subtle pleasures of life for a bigger dream, an aim or a target to be reached.

Tuesday the 5th of October 2010,Pune was flooded, in a span of two hours of rain, the new face of developing India was under water. It's inhabitants like a set of roosting birds, could be seen perched everywhere water couldn't get them.Riding a bike from Hadapsar to Aundh, in itself is a challenge, coming to work a challenge, riding back another one and @ work a plethora of them to deal with. Yeah me the challenge man !!!!.Don't misunderstand, underwear is still underneath the pants, and raising hands does not defy gravity!!!!. Three hours in rain, drenched and walking into a home without power would have been just another day, if not I hadn't received that call.

Manager rings up @ 11:45 and intimates that, there's a meeting and I need to be up by 6:00 am. Drenched to the core, drying my clothes, with a heavy head on my shoulders, I slept off in five minutes. The alarm rang, I was up in a flash, made tea and was ready in no time and then this thought creep-ed in. Haven't I been planning to wake up early for a lifetime now, the same alarm rings everyday, just to get rescheduled another 5 times, what's that brought me up today. Was that meeting inspiring enough a cause.

Is waking up everyday without a dream, a dream compelling enough to be chased, worth the efforts.For the last 26 years of my life I have been waking up because sleep died out, there was something @ work, had to complete impositions, project, homework, had to by-heart something for examinations etc. Will a day break with a dream to be chased, will a dream to be pursued wake me up, will that alarm clock symbolizing worldly compulsions be replaced with an eternal call, I hope it does, otherwise a dog's death is imminent.

Bappu , We Love you !!!!!!

Bappuji, Namaste.Not that I don't value the freedom I have, not that I am cribbing about the fact that the freedom is not enough. I some how feel, people are just enforcing stuff on us, and surprisingly even you are not being spared as a reason. Do you even know that ???. I hope heaven@network.com is functional and you have access to this blog. Because it's important, you know these basic facts of life.

Bappu, times have changed, it's not the same India anymore where we work in the farms and wait for the harvest season to celebrate, The kind of torture we go through between the weekdays, (Sorry in your time it's Monday through Friday), is actually a miniature version of the freedom struggle that you fought for years. Yes, you might be amazed that we have to fight for the freedom to do the right things and not the stuff that makes the manager happy, to do things that add value, to do creative stuff at work is a freedom struggle, a struggle against the outsourced, mundane, trash cleaning jobs that we are in.

Our struggle is not against the white's who came on horses, with canons and explosives, who levied taxes on us and deprived us of us our natural wealth, rather against a bunch of dud's who are merely postmen who bring to us order's from the very old people who you drove away from here. Yes they still rule us, they control what youth does here, they control the imagination of the parents, our upbringing patterns , educational systems, in short everything. Engineering colleges here popped up like mushrooms in a rain cause the demand for them has been on a rise. Tomorrow, am sure they are going to throw seeds that would grow scientists. Now they are looting us of the intellect, they have put a headphone on our ears, have given us read only access into certain critical systems that we monitor and we are jumping in joy !!!!!!. You fought against the Brit's who taxed us and built bridges, rails and roads which are still key to our infrastructure, when they left came in the so called democracy which robs us every month and gives us back ache's through the roads, asthma cause of the pollution, Malaria through the contaminated water.

Bappu, you can't let us be sober on a Saturday, this year your birthday is on a Saturday and that leaves us with no option rather than to roam sober. We celebrate birthday's @ work, where in we do not even know who's birthday is being celebrated. We get to hotels and pay in our shares to celebrate some one's birthday who never added anything to our life and on yours we are not allowed to go out, party !!!!. What good is the freedom you got us, Bappu ???. We wanna celebrate your birthday. We want to celebrate the freedom you got us, which we have already sold out for millions of dollars and are almost heading towards the next big fight. We do not want to curse you, we love you for what you have done, but not for the regulations bought under your name. If you can, could you please convey this to the Italian woman who currently rules the country!!!!!!!!

A stupid post !!!!!!

Shuddering away from moms shadow, from the warmth of those wings, I decided to take that leap, never realized that it's just not the the will but wings that matters !!!!. Realization and actions always interact after the consequences, smell of mud and a slight dizziness. Lesson learned: "just will is not enough". People around added a bit more of masala and the lesson conceived deep within was "Only wings mattered" and the urge to fly is within everyone.Some said luck mattered and wings helped, no one had a second opinion about the fact that urge to fly is within everyone and is not the aspect that makes you fly.

Up again on the tree, with the scar from the fall and permanently registered scare, flying became a distant dream. Even more, stories of fellow birds who went beyond a territory, who got into frying pans, and got eaten up, who never came back where the chart busters. Birds who bought back home food, who never flew away from the nest, who were always there around were called the Ideal ones, the winners. Being a winner is not flying away, not dreaming, it's more of flying till a map that's drawn. A route that's set cause you do not alter the system, challenge it or making disturbing changes.Lessons popped up one by one.

Wings grew and the lessons learned, burnt away the will, a bird's life that would have been spent flying for which it was born, for which it was destined to, ended up collecting grains, picking up dry sticks and doing everything else it was never created for. How many of us pick grains,Collect dry sticks and how many of us see the world. If you argue that collecting dry sticks was my destiny then there's a problem from where the journey started, might be the sperm wasn't airy enough to fly!!!!. What's your destiny !!!!!

Are we taking Risks !!!!!

Bench is a bad place to be, am not talking about the last bench in school where you could comment on the shapelessness of the history lecturer or the bench on the park that I made out with my girlfriend last weekend, with three glasses of beer inside. Yeah you guessed it, it’s the bench @ your company where you end up, when either you didn’t do well, you did it too well and finished the project, where you end up cause your brains and heart were not in sync and for all the other reasons one would attribute to reaching a dungeon.

This blog ain’t about bench and petty politics in a IT Services company, it’s about an experience that I went through listening to a conversation between two people in a coffee shop at Linking road, Mumbai, the conversation could be called an interview in our civilized, conditioned world, which we feel is the safest approach towards life. For me it was a life changing experience and for you all it’s worth listening.

Depressed and conked out, cursing certain hasty decisions I made in the last three weeks, I walked into the Coffee bean on linking road, college kids enjoying Gelato @9 per cup, expats stepping out of the last nights hangover, middle aged women with the latest gadgets and the economic times, it’s not just another coffee shop. I walked in and occupied this typical park side, couple smooching seat, facing a big mirror through which I could see guzzling traffic, beggars, street hawkers, audi’s and hand pulled rickshaws, the typical diverse Mumbai picture.

An expat, in her early forties was sitting ahead, with her back facing to me. She was flipping some A4 size papers, which looked more like a proposal, project plan or something pulled out from a lawyers draw. I ordered coffee which I would not be able to pronounce even if trained my tongue with some power yoga. The remembrance of the taste of it would bring only one expression on my face, “disappointment”. Taste of the coffee suddenly took a shape, the shape of man in his mid forties, dressed up in a pink shabby casual shirt, with a denim that would have been washed years back, his hair style resembled a honey comb and had grey and white hair juggled up, as if his brain has popped out. He smiled and occupied the seat right in front of this lady and inadvertently smiled at me, like he knew me.

The lady said hi, he shook hands with her and then the legendary conversation kicks off, I would call it legendary cause, I would not listen to someone who is presumably a common man, who could be perceived as a nerd by looks, last but not least who has eccentricity has his last name!!!!. The conversation strikes a chord with me when he says that he had “Puliogare”, in response to the question on what did he had that morning. Then in his fun filled flamboyant fashion, he explains to this expat on what Pluiogare is and how it’s made etc. (Pluiogare is a South Indian rice based dish, which is tangy.) My ears where kicked up, I eavesdropped. The lady asked him about his education to start with, he had done his Bachelors in Physics and he did it because he was confused and when people are confused in Kerala they end up doing physics( The answer would take any interviewer by surprise). The lady burst out into laughter and then he moved on explaining about the course that he done in a film institute and how he landed in Mumbai to work for some media houses as trainee, asst director etc.

The guy would repeat one sentence after every five minutes, “ Then I got annoyed, did not have anything new to do and then I quit”. The conversation had this quote at least ten times,and then I could make out, ohh it’s an interview and the lady belonged to a media house in Mumbai. The hero had worked with ad companies making adds for MDH masala, had made adds for undergarments and what not. During the conversation he actually referred to everything that he did as fun, like “ It was fun there, We had a great time”. Every experience in a company, in a project at the final phase of the conversation would end with “ I had a great time and I learned a lot, but financially couldn’t sustain it”. He actually partnered in three new ventures which had died and early death, built a website which gave technical guidance to newbie’s in the media/tech industry. The way he describes the webpage goes like this “ I had this thought of creating a forum where people could come and talk about their Ideas on technology and media and I could help them out”. He ended up the web page stint as great fun which could not sustain itself. When asked about his pet project, he spoke about a documentary on plastic surgery, which commercially failed and was critically acclaimed.

The interviewer was just a listener and was being walked through a career where passion was everything and where nothing mattered other than sheer joy of creativity. Questions on punctuality and being an organized person was laughed at, “ I made you wait for thirty minutes to see me today and that would tell you the story of how Organized am I”. The person in action belongs to a media power house and is the creative head for one of the best reality shows in Indian television. Spanning twenty years, working with at least 15 employers, and three of his own ventures this guy must be a nerd for any Civilized human being like us. But the last part of the conversation ends like this :

Lady : “ How much would you demand to join us, what’s the deal ?”
Hero: “ 75 -80 an annum, plus a 5% cut on the profit of the program and a signing in bonus of 20% of the deal”
Lady: “Done and we are happy we could have you on board.”

What’s that we chase, a paycheck , do we have a passion, will we ever over come the fear of failure, While in the wash washroom of the coffee shop, it was written on my forehead you mortal, dreamless passionless, paycheck chaser. Till you respect the passion in you, you are not respecting the god in you and greatness is godly, till you chase it you don’t get there!!!!.

"Conversations with an angel"

Sitting @ Sanewadi residential grounds in my neighborhood at Pune, is in itself a re leaving experience, peace is within would not sound appropriate here. Granny's sporting an I pod, walking with their Nike and Rebook sneakers on, Middle aged women testing the depth of their lower abdominal fat, every two inches they walk, Affluent teenagers on their cellphones, some blushing as they talk, others flaunting their phones, Chotu's and the aaya's taming the headaches of their respective masters,Birds those are trained to be silent and dogs who cannot fight with each other, Sanewadi ground is a place you have a rep from each block of the society.

Holding her hands and watching this absolutely peaceful empty space in the midst of a residential complex was exhilarating , happiness was just oozing out. Bushes untrimmed and overgrown, clinging to the walls pathways and the electric posts, thick patch of lush green grass with a tint of dewdrops, couldn't be better for a cozy little conversation. Her eyes showed the pleasure of a child clinging on to her father, cheeks of hers touching the shoulders, hair combed to reflect a school going kid blocking the sight and whispering on my face, she is magic.

While talking, chit chatting we saw a kid and his dog playing, with her penchant for pets, or her untimely humor sense, she said "I had a German shepherd first, then my dad gifted me a doberman and now I have scooby (don't know the breed just the name), if everything works fine between you and me I'll have you soon". I laughed, that was something which came from nowhere, like a Muralidharan doosra, caught be plum, but one thing it did not hurt, the smile grew to a burst of laughter and now it's a joke to share, conversations with an angel, is straight talk.

Junkie -- A Depressing, Suicidal, Nauseating Experience !!!!!

Of all the books that I read recently I would definitely like to talk about the Junkie, A William Burroughs book, supposedly a classic. The book is depressing to the core, it will make you smell vomit, hold your temples as if aspirin is nirvana, you could feel a hangover throughout the journey. But then every book must not be inspiring, must not have a happys the endings, certain of them must be like Junkie which is written on a puddle of puke, by a hallucinated nerd, who talks about addiction, what why when and where of addiction.

The best part of Junkie is the answer to the need of drugs and the answer is astonishingly simple, "to walk to eat, to live"!!!!.Yes Junk actually becomes the oxygen for a junkie and that's where the term comes from "Junkie" someone who lives on Junk. The books depicts the life of a youngster who is on odd jobs throughout, hits on from one Junkie to another, then progresses into peddling and trading Junk. It opens door into an unconventional life where you are free from everything and tied to only one thing that's Junk. A fascinating way of life where the only worry is the depleting stock of Junk with you, Our conventional ways actually gives us tonnes of worries, about the EMI's, about beating the one sitting next to you,about marrying a bomb, or the colleague who married one and what not.

But then being a Junkie is like being a feather, being light and being in a state of joy. Why not live being a Junkie for sometime, a way of life in which you would enjoy the rains, the full moon, good sex and sound sleep, Hallucinations, dreams and those simple pleasures of life that we loose in this rat race. Withdrawal symptoms, stomach pains, joint aches and the weakening of social life is scary but then freedom to fly comes at a cost, choice is yours be a jerk or be a junkie!!!!

Am I, sorry Can I be a terrorist !!!!!!!

What's the hype about terrorism, what's it about being a terrorist. Is there a terrorist within me, the auto driver who dropped me home, the lady who gave me a lift back from work, yeah we all had some or the other kind of terrorists chained within us. What's that makes me different from terrorist, for that we'll have to define a terrorist, there are different ways of going about defining anything, Like sex being defined as a divine act, carried out at the peak of love by someone and a mere act to ensure that the biological craving hits the brake through the eyes of another one.

Yeah a terrorist for any average Indian must be based out of Kashmir, should pelt stones and to the min pull the fuse of detonators. I would say a terrorist is someone who actually believes in a cause, is committed to see a change in the current plight and spilling blood is the last thing he is worried about. Say for the fun of it let's ask this question to ourselves, is there a cause that we believe in that we could die for, spill a drop of blood for,( Spare money, sex, clothes and booze) though we love all these, am sure we would still not risk a cut or a bruise for these. If there is an eligibility test for us to become terrorists, or the some called inhuman bunch, will we ever crack it, the basic qualification being passionate or committed for a selfless cause.

How many of us would have actually fought a fight for a hapless one, how many of us actually have a reason for doing what we do, Do we ever think above ourselves, our needs and wants, would we ever climb the second tier on maslow's hierarchy, terrorism is far ahead cause we do not have time to think, to believe, to feel for a cause or to live for something selfless. Aren't our motivations too frugal, aren't we the so called civilized bunch trapped into a flow that we never would even think of breaking off. Or is it that we never went through enough agony to think above us, Why would I ever share food till I know how does hunger feel like !!!!!!. I can never believe the fact that someone becomes a suicide bomber cause he was in poverty, Mohamed Atta, was not in poverty when he crashed the twin towers, he had enough to live, I would say there is corruption in terrorism as well, but then there are wounds, bruises that makes these youngsters come on the streets, am sure that motivation is hardly monetary.

The kids in Kashmir are pouring their blood out on the street, they are educated and whatever the forces behind them are, am sure they are ticked off, how long could you be in a state of anarchy, how long could you tolerate elderly men disappearing from the village, how much would you like it when you have to Salute a South Indian or a Sardar holding a sten gun, every time you pass by to buy a pack of cigarettes. Don't we have political honchos next door who bring much more frugal fights on to the streets and still go unnoticed or untagged. They get to fight elections and be part of coalitions, they get protection and continue threatening our rights. As it's said it's declared a mistake on the basis of who's the actor and not the act.

Wedding Indian Eeshtyle !!!!!!!

The Indian Marriage.

Marriage and Indian Marriage’s are entirely two different subjects, yeah weddings in Indian could be a research subject, it’s as complicated as the culture, spicy as the dishes, emotional and sentimental as the people, a journey as bumpy and adventurous as the rural Indian roads.

How does it start here , who talks first about it. It could be any of the following situations that leads to a search, leads to a chat, a formal discussion. It could be the maid who complains to the land lady that their son’s bed sheets are increasingly showing stains and the activity has hit a new peak, it could be the 50 year old neighbor , who saw the kid watching an adult movie @ the cinemas, while he was three rows behind. Or it could be the frustrated geek in his early thirties who could never be cool enough to make it himself, who suddenly wakes up from a blanket of codes, just to realize that black rimmed spectacles doesn’t get him laid anymore. There are instances in which the young gun finds a chick, talks to his parents and sticks to his decision come what may, very rare though it happens in India.


My next post will be on the initial step, the different ways about it. The selection process, all I want to say at this moment is I do not make stereotypes, I just see them !!!!!!!.

Let's talk Marriage !!!!!!

Marriage is something which I always loved to hate, always seen through a goggle which would retrieve images of stress, anger, depression and what not. Like if you would ask how could a villain look for an average Indian, he would look like Pran, Prem Chopra or Shakthi Kapoor, might be my stereotype processes this word into images which would reflect a man behind bars, women holding their knees to the chest and weeping the guts out.

The subject deserves, debate attention, introspection, study and a hell lot of research. Crossing 25, People say my fate is decided and I would join the party soon, so this blog is about marriages, married people (men especially), on how marriages are made before they are broken, how it changes life’s, why is it required, why does it kill, when is the right time, how to get it done (Financial's of marriage), a bit of fun, some funny marriages or marriage incidents to be quoted. Guys I hang out with men who are on the run to hit forties and are horny, hungry, hilarious and most importantly un-happy. This blog will have loads from real life experiences and as the standard dialogue goes, does not have any resemblance to anyone alive or dead, and if feel so, it’s just that we both know the same person alive “Coincidence”.!!!!!!.

As they say marriages are decided in heaven and made on earth, must be true, cause certain combination's makes you feel believe it, Punjabi with a Gujarati (Spendthrift and the miser), Maharastrian with a Bihari,( Bau with Bhaiya !!!!), Arab and an Irish, yeah god I feel decides certain things that are real crazy and we definitely give it life and shapes.

Google Search on Love !!!!

To be in love must be like to be in a frequent state of high, when it get's to a stage when love takes shapes of rights, control and possessiveness, it's like black tea after a mug of beer. The waits behind the stage during annual day celebrations, money saved to buy roses, cards and the indispensable dairy milk, treasured moments when eyes meet during an afternoon boring / snoring history lecture, that was love. I realize, it does not happen everyday, slowly kicking into the pace of mid twenties, among the frustrations of work, pressures of personal life, love has dried out, to such an extend that a Google search of the heart ( Including all files and folders) would bring no results :).

Love has to be a priority, otherwise it's crap, as I have read somewhere if you are driving a car and kissing a girl and if you do not meet with an accident,then the kiss never got the attention it deserved!!!!!. Being in love needs one to have the counterpart as a priority, stocks that tanked, cost cutting @ work, colleague who got promoted, friend who bought a corolla, must not cook up your brain. Remember those college days, the days when the colllege bus stop would have had your sweat marks left on the pillars, your watch giving you a tip on how patience could help, that's the kind of time and free will that one needs to be in love, to be in love in a very grass root level would to be in a frequent state of attraction, in wait state without any complaints, in a state where ego and envy is under played for the feel and presence of her. Love was tough but beautiful, inland letters and public telephone spiced it up, internet cafe's with closed doors and college grounds with banyan trees, played stage for the drama, would I ever get back there.

Life goes on, certain people don't, they get stuck at times when it get's to these age old emotions, born with us. Want to be in love once again, in a state of high, not the love in action, the pleasure of which is wiped out along with the semen stains on the bed sheets, but the love in emotion, which makes you cry, pinches your heart, keeps you waiting with a smile. I hope she reads this !!!!!

French Dosa !!!!!

What do you want ????

Summer is back, sipping strawberry soda, under the cool roof , summer does not seem to be a challenge to me. Cribbing , thinking about ways ahead, I could see this on my right, through the colors of the effervescent drink, There are lives, that are colorless, hapless and still they smile, they enjoy. This tub of dirty water could bring smiles to him, A cool couch, tasty drink and the chilling atmosphere, pinching me on ma ass, God grateful for everything that I have :)

Times have Changed, So has Love !!!!!!!

Riding down to have lunch, me and venky saw a chick, tanned, homely, slim and what not. She had an aura, something that would turn you on. We stopped the bike and waited for her to pass by, could see a Wipro tag around her neck, she had some friends around her. Yeah you guessed it right oily hair, spectacle's, collared, striped T- Shirt, on top of a light blue denim, her friends were all from the same mould. We could not talk to her, she turned around and gave us a glance, though sunny, dusty a afternoon, we could not miss the twinkle in her eyes,her eyes were killing!!!!.

Now I do not know whether venky tried, but I tried. Yeah searching that chick online. Is that a feasibility, you bet it is!!!!.Filter your Search with these conditions, (Pune, female, Hindu, Wipro) the combination would bring in front of you not more than 100 results, but our heroine was not in the list. Search done, and now what. Drive back home, me sitting in the front, one of my close friends driving the car, some how the topic came around girls and suddenly I screamed, there must be a way that I can paste an image into google and do a search. So all that I need to do is to click a pic and then search !!!!!. They never knew what happened on the way to lunch in the afternoon. (Necessity is the grandmother of invention).

It's 2010, there are ways around, but there's one point to be noted, why is that an affair get's shattered and people move on to someone else on a fly. I would say that there is no pain involved, let me explain. If me and venky were in the 80's first of all we would not have seen that chick on the road with three other guys, next there is no way that a search could be done, or no means which we could have tracked her. We would have followed her, to her end point, waited in the hot sun,( Insult to injury on our complexion), might be that we smile at her and she smiles back,all we could get is her name, to the max her address, then what???. Write letters in the plain old paper, wait for her in the bus stand, at the college gate and then wait for another day to get a reply. (Look at the time a girl used to get to revert.) These days, before a girl scraps back, you might have alreay been out with some one else :). Let's call our heroine Sruthi, Sruthi's father would know the love either through his colleague who saw us near the childrens park, or uncle's son who spotted us @ the corner seat of a theatre and then all hell breaks lose. These days a parent would not be able to find what his kid does until and unless he is a certified hacker. Tough is it not??, love had a minimum effort level required those days, love is all changed, it could now be found through GPRS, will smell more of Cappuccino,is as elastic as a condom, last but not least comes to you at a pace, which will never make you feel the loss of it.

Sruthi, we did not find you, but around the turn to the Andhra mess, we will still expect you, our bikes will slow down, heads will turn, brakes will screech, we know that you might not be around, but heart denies the brain and we look around!!!!!!

Just a random pic !!!!!

Porn is a topic seldom discussed, it's tough to buy, to watch and is never discussed. Names of these movies are often funny and would bring out a giggle, those wild, naghty, rib tickling ones. Roaming around Pune, I took this pic on the heavily crowded Laxmi street. It's good to know that we have creativity oozing out everywhere, even porn comes with professional marketing, the naming tells you rest of the story. Ogilvy & Mather India beware :)

Mr Lonely !!!!!!!

Walking down the street @ 11:00 pm, listening to ear bursting music, kicking pebbles around, I could feel that around me. It smelled, of berry, did not have a shape, but it was there in and around me. Lately it has been around and now vey close by. Cooking on a weekend, driniking alone at the corner table of the bar, it was laughing at me. As the fork dug into the starter, it smiled, and the smile dug into me, no stains, no blood.

Riding @ a 100+, crossing a multiplex, overtaking a couple, with the chick grabbing the guy and her pale back refeclting on my face, I felt it again, in and around me.Tightening the accelerator, biting the crisp winter breeze, I could feel it gripping me. Beer, dripping through the sweat, fear pouring out as tears, I could feel it teasing me, playing games with me.

Suddenly the phone rings, and talks my sister and it just fades away, I could feel lighter now, I realize it was nothing but, loneliness fucking around me !!!!!!

Students, Suicides and Three Idiots !!!!!

Media would link anything to a popular topic these days, Three Idiots a hit movie portrays the Suicide of a student cause of academic pressure and that's it, here we go, now all the suicides committed within the student community is hooked to the movie and the director Raju Hirani. The provocative scenes, dialogues and last but not the least the emotional song about wasted childhood and youth, yeah powerfull enough to drag someone to suicide, anytime !!!!

Some wasted combination's of sprem and eggs, hanging on a piece of thread, making it to the news itself is a great thing, adding to the agony our media tags it to one of the best creations ever in Indian cinema. Our media is great in linking up stuff, ISI's hand in Gujarat earthquake was almost proven by our media. (Tsunami was tagged to Al- Qaeda).

God, I thank you for just one reason, that rapes are not happening within the student community. If that would have been the case, Raju Hirani's character Chathur would have been responsible for inducing "Balatkar" as well. Over and above,our student community,frequent Vada Paav eaters would even tag their farts to this movie. I would not be amazed if our media comrades, report a story about some jerk who commits a suicide cause he was being called silencer within the campus. Raju be prepared, you have done a crime, not because you did something wrong, cause you said that something is actually going wrong.

At a broader level the point raised by the movie, is that our nation is a cultivation land for MNC's, now they are sowing engineering seeds, earlier it used to be nursing, decades ago accounting was sowed and reaped!!!!!. Since procreation is our known recreation we would not go short in supply.

For all the Teenagers committing suicide from now on, please ensure that your suicide note,not only talks about you being responsible for the act but also the fact that a hilarious movie is not good enough to shaken up your balls. I hope the student community is still left with a bit of it - Balls!!!!!

Tiger, I hope you read this !!!!!!

People always called me “Buji”, in Malayalam that means a creative type. Could always crack a joke at any point of life, could always think and talk from a perspective that normal beings don’t. But I would not agree, because being eccentric was always out of the trend. Yet there are some thoughts that came in, flashed and kept me blinking for quite sometime. These thoughts made me laugh and think and quite a few of my fellow beings seemed to be excited about them.

Indian media has started of the year with rape, molestation and charges against top guns, world media kicked it off two weeks ahead off the New Year with a famous sports person proving his worth, off the play ground as well. But is it worth it, come on let’s be honest how many of us are actually true to our partners, Married men stare at women in India to such an extend that, the lady might have burn marks if the line of sight is maintained for a given threshold of time. We enjoyed reading the infidelity stories of Mr.Woods, but is infidelity just about sleeping around with some one else, I would beg to differ.

Okay, let’s stop the infidelity discussion right there; I personally believe men are much more than sperm bags. The first thing that came into my mind when Accenture pulled out as a sponsor for Tiger was the fact that, the company must have waited. If he would have got the family back on track and won another PGA, that would have benefited the company much more, but then does it matter. Will I stop outsourcing work to a cheaper location, because my vendors poster boy slept around with a cock tail waitress!!!!!!.

Tiger calm down, I do not think you have a good agent with you, with all the due respect, I would say if I would have been your public relations guy, your off field talents would have been sold off at a much higher price. Imagine a company leveraging your talent off the field, to sell its products. Let’s say a condom company, I would say the captions could range from “Be a tiger on the Bed”. Why would not I make John Abraham wear a low waist denim and launch an undergarment with the name Tiger, the add could have a story board of Chicks falling for John when he picks up something that had fallen from him, (Usually guys reveal their stuff within bending down or grabbing something above shoulder)I would say the promos for your Undergarment brand could be “ The tiger within”. Tiger let’s stop right there, I hope to see you on golf courses, winning championships again. Becoming a tiger might be easy, but being one is tough !!!!!!