Serindipitous Sailor

PS: I LOVE YOU BANGALORE

2010-10-14T12:05:00.000-07:00

What we call the begining is often the end. And to make an end is to make a begining. The end is where is start from. Probably this is one of the reasons our Hindi film industry has stopped using "THE END" and have taken the road of Steven Spielberg and James Cameron, and have delivered some of the most forgettable sequels like DHOOM-2, DON-2 and many more still on the production floor gearing up to be exhausted and cause if not a physical vengeance then definately a mental turmoil, we also call it as EMOTIONAL ATTYACHAR (DEV D ROCKS :D)

But if i pause for a moment and recuperate my thought cycle, I find myself in an ambiguous state of affairs and can't help asking What is life without Change? We've heard a zillion times, CHANGE IS THE ONLY CONSTANT, without really knowing what it means?
As i see it, some changes are delibrate, while others are a result of the natural progression of life. The first time we notice the natural ageing process (the telltale strands of grey hair), our first reaction is to deny, then defy and then take action to "CORRECT" the change. However, Change is the order of nature. The sooner we come to terms with change, the easier it will be for us to get comfortable with it.
The question arises, If change is the only constant, then is it true that change is one prime motivator within us that drives our mortals towards a begining or an end? Or is change a passing phase, just like a passing caravan that halts for a while outside your abode, seeks your permission to come aboard and plunge into a newfangled journey of your aspirations and stargazes?
Certainly, I realize that there's no point scratching my head for something that literally has no significance to the question of hour. I really don't know neither do I care. To me change has showered packages of joys and sorrows simultaneously. The one's that made me happy, didn't last longer, neither do the ones that bestowed gloominess. Yes, I have imbibed the cognitive process of adapting to change instantly, thanks to my parents for endowing the zephyr of independence in me right from my boarding school days. 10 years down the line, I find myself, yet again, standing on the same billet, midst a new civilization of individuals called the MANAGEMENT STUDENTS. Well! now that's what i call CHANGE.

After having lived and travelled across almost entire South-East Asia, to my wonderment, life brought me to this place called BANGALORE. Honestly, this place has struggled a lot to entice a person like me and has successfully extracted me from a place like DELHI. Well! what about Delhi?? Inevitably, whenever i come across this word, i am nostalgic. To me Delhi is not just a city but a conglobation of elated cultures. THE RAJDHANI stands tall with a legacy of its portentous and fundamental history, and as the song goes "YEH SHEHAR NAI MEHFIL HAI" you'll never find a particular community of interests dominating masses. The best thing about Delhi is NOBODY BELONGS TO DELHI, IT IMBIBES ONE AND ALL. Though the traffic kills you, the population drives you crazy, the THULLAS (COPS) will make sure they become a severe pain in your ass if you don't give them chai-paani and the weather gives a damn about your feeling...still, there's this distinctive and elegant panache about this city that you would never want to miss. For instance...from GOL-GAPPAS to VODKA GOL-GAPPAS; BLUE LINE to METRO; CHANDNI CHOWK to CITYWALK, DIESEL to CNG; RING ROAD to BRT; PARANTHE WALI GALI to JUST NOT PARANTHAS; JHOLAS to GUCCI BAGS; HALWAI'S to ICE-CREAM LOUNGES; OPEN AIR DHABA'S to ROOF TOP CAFES; BENTLEY to NANO; FLYOVERS to UNDERPASSES...Delhi, has it all. Christ...m missing home!

So, what is it that rode me to this part of the country? Destiny, ofcourse! However, i really don't believe in handing the steering of my life to destiny and enjoy a chauffer ride to netherworld. It just doesn't work that way here. We are blessed with one life, one body and one soul. We can't just let any fictitious parameter govern our conscience. This one life has to be fullest, audacious, and is supposed to be lived like ACHILLES, who when entered a warzone, victory was definite. Even if we fail, the sprightliness of a winner must prevail, this spirit sets you apart from the crowd.
Coming back to Bangalore, as I mentioned, this city has struggled a lot to lure me and has successfully withdrawn me from the capital. Bangalore has this steroidal halo around it that has definately set me on a high. Whenever, I circularize my glance, I experience felicity. Probably, it's the weather here that has enchanted a flavour of life in me or maybe, it's the people i am surrounded with. There's probably no materialistic wish that Bangalore possesses, which cannot be fulfilled anywhere else, however, there's something about you Bangalore that bewilders me, amazes me, irritates me, comforts me and cuddles me with its frequent drops of joy, Bangalore's unpridictable rains. You're like an old wine that strirs up my taste buds right from the first speck of contact. You make me feel a part of you now and i want to get as close as possible to you. Am I falling in love with you or is it that you have left no other option for me? You don't let me sleep because when you are in love you can't fall asleep, as reality becomes more beautiful than your dreams.
The mornings are bright here and brings along a message to strike the nail with elan. I smell healthy competition everywhere around, a brandish of joy and frolicsomeness across, and I've met few people whom I'll never want to part ways with. If this was the CHANGE i ever craved for, then i presume that you've changed me and changed for good, i know.

Still in the pipeline, still trying, still wondering...4 am in the morning, and you look beautiful as ever. Just embrace me in your blazon of warmth and affection, and take me on a flight snapping across my fears and nightmares. I TRUST YOU :-)

The Rancher's Widow

2010-06-09T02:03:00.001-07:00

A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife.

She was a very good-looking woman and determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand.

Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk. She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk.

He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a lot about ranching. For weeks, the two of them worked, and the ranch was doing very well.

Then one day, the rancher's widow said to the hired hand, 'You have done a really good job, and the ranch looks great, You should go into town and kick up your heels.'

The hired hand readily agreed and went into town one Saturday night.

One o'clock came, however, and he didn't return.

Two o'clock and no hired hand.

Finally he returned around two-thirty, and upon entering the room, he found the rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, waiting for him.

She quietly called him over to her..

'Unbutton my blouse and take it off,' she said.. Trembling, he did as she directed.

'Now take off my boots.' He did as she asked, ever so slowly.

'Now take off my stockings.' He removed each gently and placed them neatly by her boots.

'Now take off my skirt.' He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in the fire light.

'Now take off my bra.' Again, with trembling hands, he did as he was told and dropped it to the floor.

Then she looked at him and said, 'If you ever wear my clothes into town again, you're fired.'

BEING 24!

2010-03-04T11:54:00.000-08:00

“Saurav Khurana, a 24 years old lanky boy from delhi bags a placement offer worth 1.4 crores that came his way from the global investment giant JP MORGAN. Khurana a commerce graduate from country’s top college SRCC is presently in the third semester of MBA at IIM-Ahemdabad. Khurana says………”

These were the few lines my eyes fell on, as I held the newspaper this morning. Agitated, I switched to the sports column. Eyes glued to the headlines read “Saina Nehwal,20, clings the South-Asian Badminton Championship. Saina is the first Indian….” Next page, “Amit Yadav,23, scores 100 percentile in CAT 2009…”

A zephyr of anguish ran through my veins. I’ve had enough for the morning. It seems that all the achievers and over-achievers in the whole wide world have gradually moved to the age-group of 20-25! As I look around, I find them everywhere. Dreams in there eyes, Passion to deliver and a zest to outshine and succeed is all I get hold of.
Wow! The world is moving rapidly, times have changed or I would say Cars have changed and so have drivers.

As I look into the mirror, I don’t really see myself now. Dreams fading away, passion losing its intensiveness and it seems I am still thousands of miles away from success. Do I sound like a 70 years old, adjourned and godforsaken valet who has almost lived his allotted lifespan and is waiting for a denotation to leave this competitive world in the hands of a more deserving generation? I fear to believe that.

The story was never the same few days ago. These eyes saw a bigger dream than Saurav Khurana, there was even more bountiful promise and enthusiasm to deliver than Amit Yadav and this mind worked as hard as Saina Nehwal to live his dream. Sounds like a perfect love story, right? Lamentably, Karan Johar was not directing this story and eventually all love-stories don’t really have happy endings.

The moment I came across my CAT 2009 scorecard, I experienced severe pain in my stomach. Hopes crashed, ships drowned, candles lit off and darkness all around. Evil demon has overpowered the destitute angel. An excess of good converted it all into bad. I felt like a cripple. My hands and legs chopped off and I, lay helpless on the floor, smelling shit all over again. This is how I felt when the biggest dream of my life shattered.

However, I am super-glad that I am blessed with such loving and understanding parents who stood by me and held my hand with utmost affection I craved for during that tussling storm. Yes, I have almost recovered; however, those bruises have left their blemishes on my instinct. Acceptance of failure is something I am dealing with now.

Now, I stand on a junction from where I can see two roads leading somewhere I don’t really know. I can hear some voices from within when I move towards the first road. It says, accept what comes your way, accept your limitations and forget whatever happened in the past and start afresh. Well, I see a positive and a negative aspect here. Positive: I will continue to move on and excel in whatever I do.
Negative: I shall not be able to dream big and be confined to what I have. A fear of not being what I am.

Now there is a difference between accepting failure and fearing failure. I don’t want to live with this grudge for the rest of my life.

As I look at the other road, I hear a voice that admonishes me of the danger and jeopardy of what lies ahead. This can indeed turn out to be suicidal. There is no assurance that I shall not feel the same or go through all this again next year. This road brings along even more irksome hurdles and break down stress levels. It involves an all over re-construction of mind and disposal of pre-occupied dreads for a successful break through. Now, in spite of all these negativisms and grievous aspects, one goodness that comes along is SELF-RESPECT. Yes, the intuitive feeling of having got ridden of those bruise blemishes is something that has to be felt and cannot be expressed in words. I aspire to live a clean and smooth life with no regrets and unfinished tasks when I look back.

The only thing I can bank upon now is my belief. A belief to start all over again, a belief to fight back, a belief to believe in my self and a belief to live my dream. All other things are secondary and attainable. I would be turning 24 next month, and I have a dream yet again. This time, its even more grander and pompous. It will be backed by immense toil and perseverance. It will accept the failure and learn to combat it with élan.

A dream seen through open eyes has more probability of coming true provided it is followed as a religion. And, I am going to live it soon.

Google and Me.

2009-12-27T04:50:00.000-08:00

Google: I hate my life...seriosuly ... everyone in the world ..keep digging me ... they fuck my happiness to know what Vivek oberoi is upto... and i have to track some Vivek oberoi and serve them with his info ..and u know wats the worst part..half the time .. he himself keep googling his name ... he cant even keep track of his life ... i need a break

Me : chalo lets go for drink ...

google : where ?

Me: i dont know lets google it

google: fuck you ...

KANOON KA BADLA

2009-11-20T17:18:00.000-08:00

TIME: NOX-BATS INVASION
LOCATION: DREAMYLAND

Still as calm as a child in dreamless slumber...even though suspended from the cosmic consciousness... undistinguished dissonances stave off to perish!! I foresee a judicatory frame-up. The priest of justice attired in black has taken his stance. A fierce smirk bombed with wrath and a stare that weltered my underpants right on…fires a question… “Are you Guilty??”

“GUILTY??…WHO?? ME..?? What have I done milord?”

“You have been ascertained of umpteen infringements against the law of human desires…thence the temple of justice calls for an immediate execution of the accused and thereby shield the society from such an ogre.”

“Ogre???Me??…No…Please Don’t do this to me…I have no clue what is this all about…I don’t eat human flesh…I just had a normal meal last night…Seekh Kabab…Rogan Josh… tandoori chicken…err…!!! It’s a mistake… nooo…”

I am going…going….gooinn…goooo…..guuuu….uuuuu…..Blurred effigies…!!
(Probably Slaughtered)

DHAN TE NAN!!! …… (Phone ring…the Saviour…thanks a lot Shahid!!)

TIME: 6:45 am
LOCATION: HUMANKIND

Coming back to life, I plumped up on one toe and took a close glance in the gigantic mirror and examined every region of my body. Fingers were laid out where they were supposed to be, ornaments remained untouched… (Thank god!!!), no pocks on the face either… SALVAGED!!! It was just another nightmare..!!

A Bad Dream that was. A mental activity that is a gateway to a paranormal or supernatural realm, although researcher claim this articulation to be sleazy and superannuated. Nowadays, hardly anyone believes that dreams are messages from god. However we still cant deny that dreams offer entry to a different universe. A paranormal universe of OUT-OF-BODY EXPERIENCE, cosmic messages and blissful nirvana. I am definitely not a sleep scientist who can provide the technical insights though…through my observance I feel that dreams are a glazed over manifestation of our day-to-day action mechanism.

Whatever we do or wish to do, whatever we think or bid to win, our thought process amasses those fragmentized pieces and runs a blockbuster flick every night. (I am privileged to witness a Matinee-Show as well)…Full of action and full-on drama…I would like to add some overtly intimate panoramas as my dreams are confined within my nous. No wonders I’ve slept over with infinite hotties. ;-)

By now you must have interpreted that I have all the time in this world to write whatever that’s crossing my head. Well…the point is to WRITE…whatever it takes…!!!

So…coming back to my blockbuster (KANOON KA BADLA)… being an analyst by profession I have inculcated a bad habit of getting hitched with each and every weirdest possible problematic or non-problematic situation thrown at me. J (Self adulations)!!!

APPLAUD GUYS

What could have been my thoughts on the preceding day? What can I probably think other than good food and good music? Yah…Chicks I suppose!! (Well that’s beyond coverage area) so the probability climbs up…however if I just recall…the priest of justice (aapna JUJ!!!) called me an Ogre…!! Synonymously…a demon, monster, cannibal…!!

I PROTEST…What for??? I am a good boy… infact a COMPLAN boy. ;-) Why would he need to shield the society from an innocent and adorable chap like me?

Pertaining to the flesh-eating connection, somehow I feel that it has relativity to my eating habits. The investigation is still on…so just hang in there. Well I have my critic at home. My Father, a vegetarian to the bone marrow of vegetarianism, often prophesies the good-king-henry benefits of being a vegetarian. Unbelievable but true… My Grandmother would not step into our home if she comes to know that we cook non-veg at home.

O Teri… the fogginess seems to elucidate now. I remember I was out with my friends last night when I called up home and informed my mom not to wait for me for dinner as I am out in Jama Masjid with my pals and will have dinner there itself. I drooled over AL-JAWAHAR’S delicious and stomach-malicious ROGAN JOSH…an exceptionally orgasmic mughalai cuisine…and the seekh kebabs with khameeri roti can bring love for non-vegetarian food into existence for any XYZ living being…including the four legged species as well.

Quenched to the brim…and adding a final goodbye signature to the get-together with Old Delhi’s famous Banarasi Paan… I reached home before exceeding the IST acceptable norms generally taken care by our caring and over-protective parents.

What better could have I asked for…Father opened the door... I wanted to steal a glance from him and rush straight away to my room for the reasons known to all…but in vain. To my misery I had to be subjected to his fierce smirk bombed with wrath and a stare that weltered my underpants right on!!!

There you go… mystery is unfolded!!! The priest of justice…none other than my DEAREST FATHER!!!

I wish I could make a sequel…KANOON SE BADLA ;-)

Awakening

2009-11-18T10:31:00.000-08:00

Yet another devolving day…watching it go away with no yield invariably. I am aware things are getting worse with every passing moment however promising persuasions do not bar to creep in. I am still in a state of uncertainty and perplexity of agonizing my final destination. I envision a distorted effigy of my stargaze. I have always wondered how my deadening life is going to transmute into a razzle-dazzle as soon as I enter the Mecca of world sawyers. An institute that would nutrify me with all the supernatural powers to predominate the virtual world and the real world. Just to prompt we are spilling the beans about the acme of management schools…… INDIAN INSTITUTE OF MANAGEMENT, AHEMDABAD.

I am cognizant of my responsibilities that are requisite to execute and live up to my childhood aspiration. I am blessed to be born in a family where everyone is striving to outshine all in a salutary style. I am invigorated to see my parent’s vividness still active and their belief in me and my inherent aptitude that keeps tugging me day after day to chip in all that I can simply to meet one mutual ambition which they were not able to reckon just to make our lives as salubrious as one can always dream of. Notwithstanding all the luxuries at disposal the inquisitiveness to deliver is somehow absent. I keep calling my conscience into question “What else do I call for? Has there been any desire unanswered? Why can’t I raise my self deference in my own eyes? What do I fear? Is it hard work? Or is it the repetitive experiences of failure that is barricading my mortal being to fasten my seatbelt once for all?”
Engrossed with all these unearthly questions I walked towards the metro station undeterred of the ambiguous thought process that kept battering my head back and forth.

Being subjected to Delhi’s population can sometimes induce mixed responses of ruing..wrath and delight at the same time. Yes delight because where ever you go you’ll always be a part of a drop in the bucket. God forbid that day when the entire human explosion (population) gets conglomerated at one place for any xyz reason under the sun. As expected it was a cumbersome ride back home…standing in an awkward ajanta & ellora scriptural posture for 50 minutes in a jam-packed metro bogie with organic structures floating from every nook and corner…and as they say variety is the spice of life…thanks to one of my co-passenger’s spicy luncheon…an uninterrupted replete of intestinal gases blossomed and freshened up the ambience. Though viciously pissed and surreptitious efforts to stay calm and concentrate…another undesirable ride came to an end.

I was still not able to accept that my introspection is shaping my next move. I dialed my sibling’s mobile number for a pick up from the metro station and instantly disconnected it without any second thought. I guess I should spend some more time with myself…I ll rather walk down. Hitting the road and gawking at passing cars and people in it have always awed me. Wearing my heart out on my sleeves I can say that wealth inspires me a lot. They say money can’t buy love…accepted…but today no one loves you genuinely if you don’t have decent enough to endorse yourself. Even I don’t aspire to become a filthy robust sheikh cashing in cargoes of moolah here and there…but yes it has to be plenty enough to roam around the world and drive if not a Bentley then definitely a BMW 7 series. ;-)

Mystified by my sudden impulsion, unknowingly the perspicacious walk of my life began that eventually answered all my questions and bestowed me with a sole motive and also the game plan to make headway. While fleeting along the huge multi-storey posh societies I found my eyes being fixated on a grouchy and avertable thing to which I have always turned a blind eye. Maybe there has always been a guilt of living an overtly nourished and pompous lifestyle, and to escape that guilt these eyes have never cared to see what the ground reality is. I was passing a lousy, foul-smelling and an insalubrious make-shift slum where I could hardly see any infant with minimal cover of fabric to obscure their reproductive organs. I was disgusted and just wished to come about as quick as I can.

All my introspective thoughts about my career options and self-indulgent incitement had faded away right there and all I could imagine was a clean and safe passage from this hell on earth. Midst this cognitive operation my glance fell upon a bunch of semi-naked under-nourished filthy children sitting in a rotary formation, reassembling nothing less than a co-operative constitution holding on to a caboodle of discarded notebooks and books. And to my amazement they were not littering and making that place more messier. They were actually adjudicating to colligate with the vibrancy of the colors depicted on those half torn rotten bulk of threw away sheets. The intensity with which they involved themselves in this so-called process of self-learning blew me apart. The fervor and sprightliness in those eyes to enjoy the learning froze me right on. I could not move ahead. A powerful vibe has just hit me hard and stirred my soul with an impact not less than any seismic disturbance. I could not stop my feet as they started walking towards that over-enthusiastic group of youngsters just to have a more nigh glimpse. A zephyr of embarrassment ran through my veins and I could sense that those unsolved questions have found their answers through a self-examination that I had just undergone. The zeal in those underprivileged children cross questioned me “since you don’t have that readiness in you to see your dreams come true why don’t you let them take your place and fulfill their basic living requirements?”

Completely drenched with disgrace I started walking again. The answers were right in front of me. Distortion began to elucidate. I have a dream but not a vision. I work hard but with a fear to fall by the wayside. I am competent enough to knock off any grandson of Einstein but I am afraid of his grandfather’s name. I know I have to but I won’t.
The choice is always mine.
My inquisitive sensation has solved the biggest question of my life.
It is all within us…we just have to talk it out with ourselves.

Now even if the fate has it to loose, it is worth giving a tough fight. Dreams can only be fulfilled if we live for them and don’t give up till we achieve them.

It was indeed a much needed wake up call.