The English have gone, but....

Remeber the scene in 'Pretty Woman' where Julia Roberts goes into the swanky clothes store and gets politely thrown out, because they serve only a certain elite clientele, and she certainly didnt fit that profile. i remebered it too, a few days back....

The city has got itself a new eatery, perfectly located at the most happening mall here... the name of the restaurant is that of the first 'real' train that ever ran in India,and they have a theme that matches it, complete with a section that looks like the inside of a railway carriage, and bells which are sounded regularly, followed by announcements.. the music,is of course, instrumental, thankfully old hindi tracks... and thats enough of description..

So, we landed up at the reception, partially wet from the rains which insists on keeping me company these days, where we were met by a very neatly dressed lady... we were given a 'top to bottom' appraisal and obviously we werent impressive enough (well, what can a faded jacket, denim, a beard without a moustache for company, and a 'got wet in the rain' look muster!!), for she politely said that we would have to wait for at least an hour before she could get us a seat... nice try, ma'am!!

to be fair, there was a crowd there, and i would have been happy if that was the reason.. but the guys have taken the ambience very seriously, and were behaving with us, exactly the way the English used to, with a contempt underlying all words and actions...

once upon a time, we got the British to do it to us, but these days, we do it all to ourselves!!
until next time, i guess its only food... for thought...

Playing Favourites

I once had a tshirt, a full sleeved one with wide horizontal black and red stripes.. it was my favouite tee, around the time superman was my fave superhero.. and this one looked like one of the costumes of lex luthor. i used to wear it a lot, to the point where someone commented that it had somehow got stuck to me....

a few years later, when i was asked whether it could be thrown away,i replied with a nonchalant yes. i was told that the reason i was asked was because of my near obsessive relationship with it, until a few years back... 'That one??!!", i responded, and immediately set about destroying photographic evidence for the association, and since that was my 'best dress', the evidence was considerable.. as the years have passed, i have come to realise that this was not an isolated phenomenon. i guess all of us do it, at different stages of life, cutting of our association with many of the things we used to cherish till only a few years back.. in most cases, we dont mind the growing up, we get tired of the stuff we have been loving for quite some time and in fact go to some extent to exile the memories, but sometimes the wheel turns all around, and we end up yearning for the 'evidence' that can bring back the memories...

and all this is not just limited to inaminate things like books, clothes, food, music, hairstyles..its evn with people... there are times in our life when we dont acknowledge people who might be closely associated with us, and there are times when we repent this, and when i am a little older, i think i'll have more 'times' to add on.

the concept, i think, is called growing up, and it works on both kinds of things - the ones we used to love, and the ones we are used to loving....
until next time, 'now playing' what favourites?

English July

i have always believed that it all balances out, sometimes in the end, sometimes much before that..and it applies to evrything, from the micro level of a person's life - his career, personal life etc to the macro level - in terms of cities, states, nations, politics and everything else big and small that we see around us, and then, even further to the things that we may not even be seeing or understanding... and last week actually reinforced the idea a bit more....

If there has to be one place that can be termed as the most 'happening' these days, it has to be Great Britain. First it was tennis. In all the Grand Slams, if i had to choose the one i enjoyed most, it has to be Wimbledon.. it must be the grass, and the sheer power and excitement that it generates.. yes, it is only the surface we were discussing.. and if one would have thought that nothing could match this excitement, London got the news that it had to set the stage for the Olympics 2012. Considering that it happens only once every four years, and is undoubtedly the best place to showcase athletic ability, that, old boy, could turn out to be a much more exciting ballgame!!

And just in case one thought that at least the weekend would be uneventful, Silverstone had the scene set for the British Grand Prix - Alonso, Raikkonen, Schumacher....exciting would be an understatement.

And with all this happening, London had a blast, literally, and unfortunately, quite a few of them....
Until next time, i guess it isnt just the English weather thats unpredictable....

Of Parents and Children...

A generation which believed in arranged marriage, the security of government jobs, which hated being in debt, looked forward to the coke cans brought by relatives who were lucky enough to go abroad, whose aim was a home by the age of retirement, who made annual trips to their 'native place' in second class railway compartments, for whom Bombay was the land where dreams could become reality, who heard live commentary of cricket matches on AIR, who went to the airport with family to receive or see off those rare people who were fortunate to go abroad, who forwarded the lovemaking scenes in movies because they were shy, who accepted that bureaucracy had to be oiled with bribes, for whom Amitabh Bacchhan was just an angry young man trying to fill the shoes of his predecessors in vain, who belived in getting home by 6'o clock,whose only idea of balance was the kind they had at the bank, and maintained a work-life balance without realising it, who believed they were lucky enough to get the rin shakti and taste the thunder, and would get confused with anymore choices than available in the market, for whom the movies and a dine out were rare occasions to be savoured, who believed in making pickles at home,for whom razors were blades, and who would be appalled at 'that time of the month' being advertised, and for whom the only discs were the flying ones their kids played with, or the ones that were suddenly supposed to land from space one fine day, just like subhas chandra bose who would reveal himself from anonymity one day, who had to carry their entire water supply on train journeys, who firmly believed that a woman's place was at home, whose only idea of shares was the kind they would be getting from their parents, who still hadnt quite decided between capitalism and socialism, who believed in keeping their refrigerator in the living room coz it was a status symbol, who could look out of their windows and marvel at the sights that nature made, whose mailboxes got full only when the entire family went for vacation, who believed in one life-one job, whose retirement plans included staying with their offspring, who made financial plans for their parents as well as children, who loved having their kids on their lap, and looked in wide eyed amazement at the silly things their grandchildren did, a generation with hardly any choices...
A generation which believes in arranging their own marriage, the insecurity of the job market,which lives a life on EMI, has difficulty deciding between diet or regular coke, whose aim is a home by the age of retirement, one each in 3 metros, who hate the fact that their hometown doesnt have an airport and so increases their transit time by a few hours, for whom reality is what you make out of your dreams, wherever you were, who see live webcasts of championships on their handheld device, who are lucky if their family receives them after international trips, forget local ones, who forward the lovemaking scenes in movies because of the overdose, whose only interaction with the bureaucracy is a tacky webpage, for whom Big B is the biggest anyone could be in Bollywood, who regularly make and break plans of reaching home by 6'o clock in an effort to get that elusive work-life balance, while maintaing a portfolio with the right equity-debt balance, who would switch to a different brand at the slightest dissatisfaction, for whom the movies and a dine out are rare occasions,because home deliveries and home theatres are so much more convenient, who actually like 'Mothers Recipes', mostly the packaged kind, for whom razors are like most other things, disposable,who believe that sanitary napkins were just another FMCG product, period!!, for whom discs are of two kinds- the ones you go to when you want to party and the ones that give you music and movies, like the recent one you bought , a movie about some forgotten freedom hero by Shyam Benegal; who love the idea of 'pet bottles', coz you actually dont need a 500 ml bottle for such a short journey, who firmly believe that a woman should be allowed to work from home, if she so wished, who rack their brains to decide which shares to invest in, who dont care a hoot if it is capitalism, socialism or bipasha basu's jism, just so long as they have a blast, who are sligtly uncomfortable about the fridge in their kitchen coz it lacks the usual inbuilt TV in it, who watch on Windows the marvelous 'nature' screensavers, whose mailboxes are full and overflowing from all the vacation snaps from other family members, who sometimes contemplate whether a life is just a job to be finished, who believe in making safe retirement plans coz they know their children wouldnt have them in their plans, and make plans for their children so they dont run the risk of getting sued, who love having their children as their laptop wallpaper, and look in wide eyed amazement at the silly things their parents did...a generation with multiple choice in education, career, sex, food, entertainment ...life!!

and a generation in between, that cant quite figure out where it belongs, and is, well, in between.. a generation which maybe has the options, but cant quite make the choices...

until next time, bridge the gap...

Of red and black figures....

He sat looking at the latest figures, some of them encouraging, while some quite the reverse. Now he had to make plans which would ensure that he wasnt chastised for the figures, and also reach an agreement on the next month's figures - low enough so he could achieve them easily... both daunting tasks.

He was thankful that none of the figures were in red, that was the worst that could happen.. but even then, these were not the kind of figures that inspired people.. but he had a plan in mind,he would talk about competition, and how they used unfair methods to get the numbers they got,of how the solutions he gave were not given the kind of respect they deserved, but the Calvin kind of dialogues always got him into trouble, so he would have to tread carefully..

he believed that he could think and act for himself, but his parents had little faith in him, well, only as much faith as could be, on a 10 year old, who did all he could, to talk his way out of the dismal marks he got at school..

He was waiting to become older, when he wouldnt have to go through all this nonsense. he would start working, and then he would be able to do exactly what he wanted, and not bother about justifying to others about figures at all.....

until next time, the battles are still the same..:)

Frozen in Time

It is as though people have accepted the fact that there are lot of things they have to do, but they have only 24 hours in any given day to do them. and so, as a part of technology's efforts to do something about it, they brought out a gizmo called media center, a comp system like no other...So you can record your favourite programs while you are out missing it.

if you think thats what any VCR worth its salt used to anyway do, you can also pause live TV, while you attend that all important call.. and after you are through doing it, you can just go back to your comp and resume the telecast of the match you were watching before you were so rudely interrupted.but there are lots of stuff i am wondering about - if the program was so important, you could have switched off your phone or put it on voice mail..okay, so you maintain that lovely balance between your work and home, so you cant afford to do either...

so you miss the match for 10 minutes... now, that stupid friend of yours, whose interest in thematch is equal to yours, calls you after the match is over and tells you the graphic details of the finish, when you are still 10 minutes away from the finish.. wouldnt that be fun?? so the options - soon after that important call, you call up all your friends and inform them that you are watching the match 10 minutes delayed, so they better not call (of course among them, theres also the friend who sends you the suspense of thriller movies by sms)... or you call them up and get them also delayed by 10 minutes... or stop having a social life, so there are no friends who can call you... or pray that Microsoft derives a way where it automatically gets your friends list from messenger and also freezes their telecast simultaneously (and therebyhave them curse you, like they curse the power supply - " that b****** has got a call again!!), or spend more money and enroll in a course that teaches you time management, or maybe we can increase our office time and see all the stuff we wanted to see in our youth and middle age, after retirement.....

or we can stop trying to fiddle with time .. and maybe try to fathom why some things are best left the way they are..

until next time, wait and watch??

Point of view

He wanted to die. he just wanted to die. he wasnt sad, nor was he in any kind of trouble. but he still wanted to die. to all the people who enquired, he asked what the whole fuss of death was all about.

he asked them whether they knew what happened after death. all of them had their pet theories, but no one was too sure. he said that was exactly what his problem was. he wanted to know what happened after death.

maybe the experience was heavenly, that was why no one ever came back. maybe they had to go through hell to get back. whatever it was, he was just dying to see it!!
until next time, i wonder, i just wonder :)

The Story of Storeys

After a little bit of thinking and a small climb, he reached the first storey. he knew all the people there. they asked him what he was upto. he told them to guess. he also told them to come to the next storey in a few days time, and he would get them to have some fun. they were curious enough to come, and he guessed they were having fun, because when he told them he was going to the next storey, and they could visit him in a few days time, they loved the idea.

and so it went on, storey by storey.. on some storeys, he met a new set of people he didnt know. some of them joined him. he also noticed that on some storeys, there were few who dropped out, but he kept climbing. maybe they were tired, he wasnt.

after quite a few storeys, he realised that most of the people who were with him initially, were gone. he had seen some of them saying goodbye, some had just disappeared. he was also quite tired now, because most of the storeys had been made in such a way that there were a lot of twists and turns. he should know, for he had made them.

i think you know what i am talking about. exactly the problem, you have started guessing right. and though you might be having some fun, you are kinda tired of all the storeys. all this twisting and turning can be quite tiresome. there are still lots of stories out there. but for now, lets rest a while, and maybe discuss the view outside.

we'll still make stories, but not all the while :)

until next time, nobody ever gives ME any stories!!

The Choice

It is said that one's timing has to be deft,
while choosing among the options in sight,
for what is right may not be left,
and what is left may not be right...


until next time, maybe we dont have a choice at all.....

Moving On

He had been thinking of moving from his current residence for quite some time now. Previously, everytime he had decided that he would move, he had encountered problems - sometimes financial, sometimes an emotional tug of moving away from his regular premises, and sometimes the sheer lethargy that prevents one from moving on... but this time he was sure he had got it all right...

He was a bestselling author, all of two books old, and though he had struggled a bit in his early days, his first book had been such a big hit that it ensured that he would never again have to struggle.. but as is often the case, his first book had taken a lot out of him, emotionally and literally, because like very many authors, his first book had pieces of his own life in it...

He waited a long time to write his second book, and though it never managed to scale the heights of its predecessor, it still sold on his name.. and though the critics said its author would never again write as good a book as the first, it raked in enough moolah for him to enjoy himself and let money take a backseat...

that was a long time ago, and during the initial days after his second book's success, he had a whale of time for a long time... which was the reason now, that he decided that he had to buy himself a good house in a new locality... because it was time for a third book.. he had no clue what he would be writing, but that didnt bother him much, he was sure he would get an idea soon..

And so he had chosen a plush locality, extremely fashionable, and more importantly that which housed a whole lot of authors.. of course, it wasnt that all important authors lived there, in fact, most of them were like him, writers of one or two books, who now wanted a peaceful locality in which to sit and think of ideas that would help them write a book... exactly the thought that was taking him there... he was sure his next big idea was waiting for him there..

however, what he didnt know was, none of the authors in the locality had published a book, after they had started living there, and the residents of the surrounding areas were now calling the locality by exactly the same name as they had called it earlier, only now they meant it in a different way.. the locality was called 'Writers Block, ' and he was moving into it....
until next time, planning to move?

Driven

It was a tough decision, but one that he had to make, and make today. Since his decision would have an effect on a large number of brands, he wanted to be careful while he made it. As he was test driving his new car, he remembered how he had gotten into the world of Formula 1 a few years back, thanks a whole lot to a certain Italian manufacturer and their charismatic main driver, the man who went by the name of Michael Schumacher.

These days, Ferrari was not doing too well, and a lot of people might think that he was chickening out because the going had gotten tough. And truth be said, it was getting embarassing to be associated with Ferrari these days. But his decision had nothing to do with this. Marlboro, Vodafone, Fedex, Bridgestone, Shell - these were some of the brands that he carried- all because of his association with Ferrari, and he was getting tired of it.

It was too much of a weight to carry around. It was a tough decision because he had been with Ferrari for so long that he did not like the thought of not being associated with them at all. And the lack of association would not come alone - with it also would come a change in lifestyle, a face without the shield of Formula 1 paraphernalia and it might also mean a weakening of the bond with the legion of Formula 1 fans.

He finished his test drive, and made the decision. He was buying the car, and since he would no longer be driving his two wheeler around, the Ferrari model helmet he used to proudly wear around would no longer be needed, and with it would go all the brands that found place in it... A tough decision, but a necessary one...Perhaps it was good this way, he would make do with a Ferrari car sticker and although it wasnt quite the same, this time it would be without the other brands....
until next time, how was the ride?

Unreasoning

The day was over, and he could go home, he thought happily. He checked his planner for the last time, to make sure that he hadnt left anything incomplete... he also reviewed the decisions he had made that day.. he was a meticulous man, who could coldly analyse facts and figures and arrived upon conclusions based on usually unerring logic.. but wait, he wasnt any inhuman monster, on the contrary, he had the right amount of humanity and compassion in him that made him a just and fair man... almost perfect...

but just as he got out of his office, his happiness vanished, for he saw the rain pouring down, and since the city planners hadnt planned enough, traffic snarls all around... this was the third day in a row that he was having to go through this, and he was irritated..the journey home, that normally took only a half an hour would once again be stretched to almost two hours...as his car waded through the traffic, he fondly remembered the days when he could zoom on this very road..

and as though God had heard him, almost miraculously, the traffic began to clear, and pretty soon, he could indeed go fast.. as he was cruising along, gradually picking up speed, he noticed an old woman quite a distance ahead, standing on the edge of the street, selling flowers to passers by, who, today, were more interested in getting to their respective homes before the next shower hit..he wondered how her life must be, having to go through this day after day, in her old age...

unknown to him, she had two grandchildren to raise.. the children's parents had died, leaving her to take care of the kids, who had just started going to school.. between what their grandmother earned, and what they got from doing errands after school, they just about managed to survive..their grandmother insisted they go to school, for she knew that was the way out of their current lives.. that was why she went through this day after day...

He was driving quite fast now, and had almost reached her, when a young man suddenly started to cross the road.. his blaring horns seemed to have no effect on him.. he was far too near for the brakes to have any effect, and besides, because of the rain, they would be almost useless.. the median and the traffic on the other side prevented him from making any attempts to his right.. the youngman was in front of him, and the old woman on his left..

in the couple of seconds he had, he actually thought, and made the decision... he groaned inwardly as he heard the wail of the old woman.. even though she was hurt pretty badly, the crowd had seen what had happened, and didnt harangue him, instead helped him carry her to the car... he looked around for the young man, but he seemed to have disappeared...

as the car zoomed away, the young man stepped out of a corner and cursed himself... earlier in the day, he had been diagnosed with a terminal disease.. all he wanted, was to die.....

until next time, who decides and how??

Human, after all...

As she sat in the coffee shop listening to the conversation, she wondered how she had ever become part of this group.. of late, she was trying to avoid them, but she couldnt be too obvious about it.. at present they were all she had..But the sweet syrupy camaraderie sickened her.. because she knew all the backbiting and tale telling that happened simultaneously within the group, not just about the others, but about people within the group too..

she had become part of the group because she thought they were genuinely different from her previous group of friends..but over a period of time she realised that all said and done, they were all the same within...she was one of the first members of this group, and all the members were personally known to her, for she was the person who brought them in, but she wondered whether any of them would understand if she tried to discuss this with them..

therefore she decided not to say anything, but gradually move out without too much fuss, and find another set who would be her kind of people, and this time she would be a little more careful about choosing the crowd..but damn, she thought, bloggers were supposed to be different!!

until next time, what exactly is 'different'?

A Matter of Choice

As he finished answering the last question in his aptitude test, he smiled at the irony of it all...

There was a time, a long time ago, when the fear of injections and vaccines had put a noble thought in his head - that he would become a doctor, a doctor who would take care of all the illnesses in the world, without hurting patients.. well all patients except some teachers,a few boys from the other gang and some assorted enemies he had made during his seven years of life so far...

But after he had heard his grandmother say that there was nothing better than to be able to sing and bring joy to millions of people, he had thought he should become a singer...considering that he had been won a whole lot of music competitions at school and otherwise in his twelve year life, he had every reason to believe that he would make a good singer...

He hated the injustice happening in the world, the way humans were treating other humans who were less fortunate than them... how humans were taking things for granted, and going along a path where the only aims were achieving more power and money without any concern for anything around them.. at 15 years of age,having been a part of the school debate team for over 3 years, he did believe he would make a good lawyer...

engineering was a good career option, especially if you were the kind who could build bridges,airports, railways etc.. that way, he could become directly involved with the development happening around him.. 22 years of life had taught him that noble thoughts had to go hand inhand with practicality, and there was a career to be made...it also taught him that an MBA could be a ticket to future successes.. that was why he was writing the aptitude test...

as he finished the aptitude test, he realised that it was quite similar to life.. for there were a lot of questions in which he felt that all the choices given were possible..

unfortunately,among the options, he could never find 'all of the above'...

until next time, life's like that....

A New Start

It was only a few days after the second world war ended. The victorious army marched into the city, the city which was all set to bask in its new found glory under the new regime...the army was tired, from the long march, but more so from the fierce skirmishes with the remnants of the enemy forces... but it had marched on, knowing that this was the dawn of a new era, and that they were about to make history...

all around them, people lined the streets, eager to welcome the forces that would take control of their country, their destiny, and eager to catch a glimpse of their leader, who was, by now, a living legend... the man who had fought their oppressors in different ways at different times, who had been their prisoner for years.. who had travelled across continents, with one burning dream, that of a free country..and that dream had been achieved, when the enemy had surrendered unconditionally...

the enemy had been part of a coalition that had called themselves the 'Allies' during the second world war, and had been ruling the country for centuries... but the 'allies' had been devastated in the second world war, and the man and his army, who had been fighting the allies were now about to take charge of the country... for he was the leader of the provisional indian government that had been formed during the war, and therefore the rightful leader of the now free country...

while the rest ofthe city blissfully celebrated, a few men huddled together in a small room, trying to chart their future course of action...these men were the working committee of the indian national congress.. the congress which believed that it had done all the hardwork to get the country free, but did not get what they considered their rightful due, not by any lack of effort from their part, but because of the shocking defeat of the 'allies'..for all of them, their joy at attaining freedom was tinged with a bit of sorrow, but all the more for a certain jawaharlal nehru, the man who would have been 'king' instead of netaji, if the die had been cast differently....

until next time, each different past could have meant a different present...