BANG !

It is very depressing to see scores of people die in an accident. And it is all the more distressing when the 'accident' is a premeditated effort by some corrupted human minds. Once such cowardly heinous crime is the act of terrorism, where in the name of religion (almost always) innocent lives and their dreams are snuffed out in a split second. Until the last decade you could maximize your lifespan by staying healthy, by minding your own business and being lucky enough to be not born into the Gandhi family (Remember Indira Gandhi, Rajiv Gandhi and Sanjay Gandhi). But with the advent of terrorism the rules of the game have all changed. And what is most frightening about this barbaric spineless act is that they are very random in nature and completely unpredictable, as the perpetrator has no specific grudge on the victims. The majority of the victims are just collateral damage and the only mistake they commit is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is as if our destinies should be re-written to account for this new avatar of death ! 

Every time there is a terrorist attack, the first thing that comes to my mind is the huge void left behind by the victims among their family and friends. Their lives are never going to be the same and they have to live with this grief for their entire lifetime. Then I think of all the dreams that the poor souls would have nurtured for a long long time and how they have been shattered so mercilessly in the blink of an eye. Once I get over all this grief,  the question that pops up in my mind is "When will be my turn as a victim?". It might seem very hysterical, but then these attacks don't occur in some distant battlefields or in some highly secured government buildings. They occur in places where an ordinary man like me would hang out with friends or go shopping or just cross by. The very clandestine nature of these attacks make it very difficult for even the most efficient governments to prevent them and hence it would be unrealistic to expect our government to be any better. So as an individual I have taken it upon myself to safeguard my life. On days that are considered auspicious by terrorists like Independence Day, Republic Day and a bunch of other days, I don't venture out to crowded places or use any sort of public transport. And on ordinary days when I am forced to venture out to a shopping mall, my antennas are constantly scanning for ULOs (Unidentified Lying Objects) and suspicious looking men, thereby running the huge risk of losing focus on the lady accompanying me! And the moment I sense an ULO, I tiptoe in a direction completely opposite to the object. It seems like a very selfish act but then I don't want to create chaos and panic just based on my hyper-active senses.

Similarly when I travel by buses, I ensure there are no unclaimed luggages near my vicinity. There was this one time when I was traveling to my native town in a government bus. The bus had made a short stop at an intermediate town and some passengers got down at their destination and some others got down to have refreshments. One of the passenger sitting a few seats ahead of me got down and I saw a bag lying under his seat. Immediately my radar got locked on to that location. It stayed locked for more than ten minutes and suddenly the bus throttled alive with the guy still not returning. I started to sweat profusely and wanted to jump out of the bus before something bad happened. But assessing the speed of the bus and my physical agility, I calmed down and decided to inform the conductor about the unclaimed luggage, all along hoping the bag only had a pair of boxers and some dirty trousers. He was initially hesitant and skeptical about my strange request but as I was persistent he gave in. The moment he came over and saw the bag a big smile broke on his face. It turned out to be his bag ! I felt very embarrassed and at the same time happy, for having done my best to live another day. But when it comes to trains I don't even have the luxury of being alert because my antenna doesn't have the required range and I just keep hoping the karmas of my previous lives will come in handy. And anyways the probability of the top berth falling on my head unable to hold the heavily snoring uncle is much more than an explosion ripping through my compartment.

If the above narrative sounds light-hearted, it is not due to non-cognizance of the gravity of the situation. But rather due to the acceptance of the futility of worrying about something over which I have no iota of control. Well I haven't completely given up and thats why I keep my senses extra sharp when I am out in the public, realizing well this increases my chances of survival only by a very meager amount. Thousands and thousands of innocent men and women have already 'sacrificed' their lives in the war against terrorism and it is more than high time we launched a global concerted effort to cull this menace. Unlike earthquakes and tsunamis, terrorism is a man made disaster borne out his own invention called religion. If the invention seems to cause more problems than provide solutions it serves well for the inventor to do away with it. Until then terrorism is here to stay.    

Why this Kolaveri !

Intolerance these days is a virtue frequented by those who are not completely convinced of their own beliefs. Either this or they seem to have all the time in the world to do nothing. Else how can you explain their propensity to agitate whenever someone even remotely seems to infringe on their beliefs. Hold on ! What did I just write. Oh shit ! I forgot to write the disclaimer and before any of your blood pressures start shooting up, I earnestly pledge to everyone out there that my words were not targeted at any religion, language, caste, color, creed, gender and what not. So please forgive me and don't descend at my doorsteps or my uncle's or my cousin's husband's sister's and disturb our peace of mind. Many might think that I am taking myself way seriously. Yes its true that I am an insignificant nothing in the public landscape. But there are many more such 'not so significant' people out there who want to become significant by targeting even a nothing like me (Let me throw some hints to prove my point in case. Sena - Hooliganism - Two girls - Social Network). So imagine the joy of such people when someone like Kamal Haasan - the unparalleled legend in the world of cinema - makes a movie on a very sensitive subject. Viola ! Its party time folks !

As a Kamal fan it was an established fact that I would be watching Vishwaroopam come what may. But with all the controversy surrounding the movie, I wanted to watch it at the earliest before the Tamil Nadu government chewed out some part of the movie. What I and almost everyone who watched the movie felt was that the movie depicted world events in their true self. The movie talks about the terrorists who operate out of Afghanistan and hence they turn out to be Muslims. There is isn't the slightest hint of any provocation and added to it Kamal is smart enough not to jeopardize his 95 crores investment by stoking any religious tensions. But like there is no absolute space and time, there is no absolute perspective too. So it is understandable that some Muslims felt hurt by the movie. In that case they could have simply abstained from seeing the movie. Or they could have requested Kamal to put a disclaimer saying 'All Muslims are not terrorists' (as demanded by some Muslim leaders in Karnataka), though I find it unnecessary mentioning Muslims in the same vein as terrorists.  But demanding to ban a movie that has been certified by the Censor Board is an unlawful act and attacks the strongest pillar of a democratic society - Right to Expression ! So such acts should be strongly condemned and dealt with by the government. Time and again the the cocktail of religion and movies has gone terribly sour and surely Vishwaroopam will not be the last one too.  

In India, not just religion but every component of the social fabric seems to cause trouble. Over the past decade there has been heavy migration between states which is a natural follow through of globalization. This has stoked regional fascism in many states to such an obscene extent that at times it disrupts the national integrity. Such in-tolerances occur in the flourishing regions where there is lot of migration to take part in the development process. People should realize that the prosperity of a region is majorly due to its geographical location and natural resources and not due to a particular caste or tribe. So just based on nativity one can't claim ownership of all the resources, because based on this argument then all the resources would belong to the pre-Dravidian tribes who are the real ancestors of India. The other problem with this migration is the perceived threat to language and culture. I understand that preserving language and culture is very important for the social development of humans, but not at the cost of harboring hatred for our fellow countrymen. In-fact there are lot of forums like arts, literature and movies to develop these social tools and so people who are very passionate about language and culture should participate in these. And finally comes the mother of all intolerances in the form of female subjugation. Indian society has made great strides with respect to female emancipation, but the mindset of many Indian males still seems to be stuck in the medieval times. They aren't able to tolerate the sight of a 'alpha female' and find cowardly means of asserting their male supremacy, the most gruesome of them being the crime of rape.                   

To those who have tolerated my monologue on intolerance and have come so far, I would like to tell you that I am not a completely tolerant person myself. I have not much interest in religion, region or language and respect women a lot (Come home and ask my wife :) ) and hence have no issues with these topics. But I adore a lot of exceptional human beings and when someone talks ill of these people, I fume internally and argue with them crazily giving my everything for the argument. But once the argument comes to a closure, I forget about it then and there and never land at their door steps rampaging their personal properties and thrashing their loved ones. The reason I don't indulge in such anti-social activities is that I am very strongly convinced of my beliefs and also believe every individual is entitled to his own belief which might or might not concur with mine. For all the negativity surrounding intolerance, we also shouldn't forget the part some intolerant people have played in the advancement of mankind. If Newton had tolerated the fact that apples fall on the head rather than flying into the atmosphere, gravity would be existing everywhere except within our brains. If Mother Teresa had been tolerant of the sufferings of the under-privileged, she wouldn't have made a immeasurable difference to the lives of so many needy people. If Martin Luther King had been tolerant of racial segregation, African-Americans would still be treated as second class citizens. And if our freedom fighters had been tolerant of the British Raj, we would still be part of the British empire (in a state of decay though) with the only bright spot being that people would be respecting the concept of queues. So it is very essential that we be intolerant towards things - ignorance, sufferings and wrongful doings - that will help in the development of the human race. And stop being intolerant in those directions that might lead us back to the stone ages !        

All the road's a rage

After some point of time in your life, there are only two people who always keep thinking of you - your wife and your manager. When you are in office, your manager is happy at home dreaming of you slogging your arse off in front of the computer to meet some unrealistic deadline set by him. And when you are at home, your wife is happy out shopping and 'fantasizing' about you doing all the household work. You feel as if your time and space has been hijacked for eternity! And all of a sudden a blaring siren went off in my head. For a moment I thought it was just an acoustic manifestation of my disturbing thoughts. But the decibel level and frequency were closer to that of the ubiquitously irritating horn of a two wheeler and that's when I realized I had been lost in thoughts in the midst of a traffic jam and the sound was coming from a fellow traveler behind me. I instinctively tried to maneuver my car in the two available dimensions but there wasn't much space to do so. So I switched off my engine and tried to get back to my profoundly life altering thoughts. But the high frequency 'noise' from behind was incessant and it was as if the idiot was expecting my car to levitate and give way for him. I wished I had a set of horns towards the rear of my car so that I could 'back-horn' till he went deaf. Or more dramatically I wanted to get out of my car, pull him (or rather drag him) out of his two wheeler, kick his butt and tell him that just because sound travels @ the speed of 330m/s you can't expect everything around it to move at the same speed too. But I was more comfortable with thoughts than actions so I tried to shut the sound out off my mind and get back to dreamland.

As the curtains were rolling down on my eyes, I witnessed an over-enthusiastic chap trying to plough his two wheeled contraption through the infinitesimally small gap available between my car and the one in front of me. Though I was immensely irritated by this senseless endeavor, at the same time I was also eager to see how far he went. He started with intimidation by coming so dangerously close to my car that I had to retreat a bit to avoid being scratched by this moron. Then he resorted to trigonometry by extracting all possible angles available in the gap. But midway he ran out of angles and threw a pleading glance at me. There was no more space for me to steer and he remained wedged like a loaf of ham in a sandwich. I wondered what could be the driving force behind a lot of Indians to indulge in such silly and reckless acts on the road. Is it the urge to reach home early and perform their most important task - having dinner and going early to bed ? Or is it the notion that civic sense is an unnecessary evil thrust on us by the British ?  

By now the road had transformed into a circus and my fellow travelers were morphing into acrobats. And they were using me as an involuntary accomplice too. Suddenly my mobile started ringing and the moment I saw my wife's name on it, I remembered her morning orders to get some household items. Since the traffic was very heavy, I allowed the call to die a natural death and started looking out for some utility store. The moment I found one I parked my car and started walking on the pavement. Hadn't I taken a few steps, I heard a loud horn right behind me. When I turned back, there standing in front of me was the latest menace plaguing Indian roads - the pavement raiders. I wanted to utter loudly - "What do you want jackass ?" But I wasn't sure whether his response would be verbal or physical, so I just threw a disdainfully inquiring look at him. In return he gestured to me to move aside.  That very moment I wanted to take a hammer and break open his nutshell (read as 'head under helmet') but I quietly turned back and continued walking in the middle of the pavement while he followed me honking from behind. After taking a few steps I bent over as if to adjust my lace with the sole intention of irritating him for my satisfaction. Anyway as all good things come to an end, I reached my destination and had to step aside to enter the store when the he roared past me. I am sure he would wanted to bang my head on the pavement, but then the feeling was very mutual.

After shopping I got back to my car and started the last leg of my journey. I wanted to reach home quickly as I was already late by an hour and also the antics on the road were causing heavy activity on my internal barometer. Fortunately the traffic had thinned down and I was able to drive freely for the first time in the past two hours. As I neared a traffic signal it turned red and I came to an halt. And as expected there were a lot of color blind people who continued traveling. But surprisingly once the signal turned green no one was moving even after my incessant honking. Only then I realized that the traffic from the other side was still flowing though their signal had turned red. And clearly anticipating this behavior from their fellow Indians, my side of the traffic was calmly waiting for their turn. Indians had not only learnt the art of transgressing the law but also to co-exist with it. If there was anyone still doubting the theory of evolution, this sight would have been the ultimate proof for its existence. Anyway by now I had lost the will power even to get frustrated and all I wanted to do was reach home. Finally after what seemed like eternity but in reality only two and half an hour, I pulled into my garage. Desperate to chill out and relax, I rang the door bell. The moment the door opened I witnessed the final performance for the day - 'angry wife gone nuts' !  I don't need to elaborate on this act as everyone knows how it is performed :)

The lady in the room

The build-up to this year's Australian Open final was perfect. Nadal and Federer faced off in a semifinal which was a semi-classic. And as usual Nadal triumphed that too in 4 sets. And in the final he met the Djoker to avenge his six previous defeats in the final . This is exactly what I had expected. Well not exactly because a Nadal-Murray final would have ensured Nadal his 11th slam. But then who would want a Grand Slam final to get over in less than three hours. During the morning of  the final (which was a Sunday by no coincidence) I kept myself busy reading any article in any form which remotely mentioned 'Nadal' or 'Australian Open final'. Like how Arnold Schwarzenegger readies himself for the final battle by smearing himself with mud in that cult classic 'Predator', I smeared my imagination with some astonishing rallies which Nadal wins. Amidst all this I sensed some tension in the air which for the time being lets assume was just my anticipation for the match.

The match started off in a tight manner with the mouth watering aroma of the food being cooked by my wife in the background. Nadal struck the first blow by breaking Djokovic's serve. And Djokovic retaliated by breaking his racquet in frustration. Ah! It was a great sight for Nadal fans as Djokovic showed early signs of  breakdown that have cost him matches in the past. And as if it couldn't get any better, my wife announced lunch was ready. I am not sure what the menu was as all my senses were hijacked by the match, but it was really tasty. I just wondered how lucky a man could get on a Sunday. The first set concluded without any further drama with Nadal safely securing the set.

My wife doesn't follow tennis. But when her husband is jumping all over the room singing praises of Nadal instead of serenading her, you can't blame her for supporting the Djoker. And pumped up by the new found support of my wife, Djokovic got his rhythm back. He started taking advantage of Nadal's second serve and was thrashing winners all over the court. This combined with the unbelievable retrieving that Nadal was doing from the baseline, was producing some out of the world rallies. But throughout the set Nadal seemed to be a step behind Djokovic and a double fault from him gifted the set to the Djoker.    

The third set was a total disaster. Djokovic continued from where he left in the second set and Nadal was being overpowered in all departments. I have never seen Nadal being so outhit before. I was transfixed to the television, intently following a crucial rally when all of a sudden Rajnikanth and Aishwarya Rai appeared on screen serenading in some strange language (which was supposed to be Tamil) in Machu Picchu. I instantly blurted out WTF !! (to be read as 'What the hell' for sake of censorship ) Then I realized my wife had changed the channel using the remote control. I shouted at her (in reality I pleaded with her) to change back and the following conversation ensued -

"You have been watching this all day without helping me in household work. I had to prepare breakfast, lunch and also clean the house all alone. For sometime let me watch something that I like. It won't hurt you to take a break."

Now I realized what that tension in the morning air was all about.

"This is a live match and I want to watch each and every point. Don't you see the high quality of tennis on display. I have been waiting for this match all week."

"So you haven't been waiting to spend time with me you dumbhead. Ok answer me frankly  - Do you like me more or Nadal ?"

Huh! When will women ever change? Why do they always ask the right question at the wrong time? Anyways out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the scorecard from my laptop. Nadal had been broken twice and there was no hope left for him in the set.

"Archana, how can you ask such a stupid question. You are the most important person in my life and why do you compare yourselves with Nadal. To me he is just an amazing tennis player and nothing more than that."

"Hmm... whatever. I would be happy if you spent your time playing tennis rather than just watching others play."

"After seeing such high quality tennis, I don't want to insult the game by playing it myself."

"Nonsense!! When will you ever listen to me rather than blabbering like this."

So our conversation ended abruptly and we continued watching some tamil movie. After sometime the temptation to know how the match was progressing was unbearable. And I couldn't track the score online too as the internet got disconnected. For a long time now my wife was immobile and speechless. Suspecting she had fallen asleep, I went around her to confirm. Then slowly I pulled the remote out of her hands and changed the channel. And what a moment I had chosen for this stealithy act! Nadal was down 0-40 of his own serve with Djokovic leading the set 4-3. If Nadal had lost this game the match would have been all but over. But Nadal dug in deep as he always does and raised his level of tennis to save all the break points and went on to win the game. The fourth set went to a tie breaker were Nadal finally overcame the dominant Djoker to win it. If only my wife was awake to see the supernatural skills displayed by these players, she would have agreed to my view of I shouldn't playing this game.

So now I was all charged up to watch the final set when something unexpected happened. My wife woke up! Should I change the channel or just continue watching the match? I was really terrified. Summoning all my courage and given the fact that the damage has already been done, I just continued to watch the match. Though she never uttered a word, I was sure she was simmering with anger inside. More than ever I wanted a Nadal victory so that I can take something positive out this day. As if answering my prayers Nadal broke Djokovic's serve. But my happiness was short lived because the Djoker broke back. I wanted to vent out my anger but thought it might not go down well with lady in the room who was now watching me intently. The pressure from different quarters was just too much to handle. Now I just wanted the match to get over soon and no longer cared who won. Another prayer got answered. Unfortunately this time by the Djoker as he broke Nadal's serve. And without further drama Djokovic sealed the set and the match. I immediately switched channels, grabbed my jerkin and went out for a walk pondering whether my wife will allow me to watch the French Open final between the same two guys in the month of June...     

Blame your genes for that XXL Jeans!!

Its time we replaced the phrase "Show me your friends and I will tell about you" with "Show me your genes and I will decode you!" because its increasingly becoming evident that what we are is all about our genes. This might irritate the highly successful people because it takes away all credits they bore for their success. But its mighty reassuring for guys like me who kept blaming ourselves for not achieving as much as the frontbenchers did. Genetic engineering has turned out be a more fascinating field than I had imagined. In my younger days I used to go around town saying I wanted to become a genetic engineer. I am not very sure why I did it, but I think it could be because it sounded very sophisticated and would create a good impression about myself or it sounded complicated and people wouldn't probe me any further. But I clearly remember why I let go off this idea - My consistently poor performance in biology which in-turn was due to my unique ability to draw a circle which resembled an amoeba (well you could argue thats biology too!). Anyways without digressing much into topics which will be dealt in detail in my biography (I am too humble and lazy to write an autobiography), I want to say I am super excited about the prospects of human genome project. The avenues that open up with the ability to tweak our genetic code are mind-blowing and will surely be the next giant step in the development of mankind. And my crazy mind has come up with the following wish list for genetic tweaking -  

• The BCCI instead of requesting (read as 'secretly pleading') the services of a stripper like Poonam Pandey to motivate the Indian team should have recruited some genetic engineers to help them decode the gene responsible for fear of OFOs (Overhead Flying Objects) also called as 'Rainaphobia'. This condition displayed by many Indian batsmen involves morbid fear of any spherical object traveling at 150km/h above shoulder level. And this fear is the main reason why a lot of Indian batsmen fall sick in overseas tour.

• Another gene therapy that will benefit our cricket team is the cause for PSRS (Progressive Speed Reduction Syndrome) which is a rare condition endemic to Asian males especially Indians who are professional fast bowlers. The main symptom is the gradual reduction of bowling speed with time to such an extent that they transform from strike bowlers to striken bowlers.
• A major flaw in the evolution of womankind is their mutual exclusivity of beauty and brains (of course not the girl to whom I am getting married to!). They have tried a lot over the ages (smart women invented the cosmetics industry and beautiful women slept with smart men) to overcome this 'birth defect' but have only managed to widen the gap further. So I guess it is something very fundamental to women and hence some tweaking of their genetic makeup will help these poor souls a lot.

• Unlike women men had no evolutionary flaws (hmm.... ok except for this arrogance). But then some men started experimenting with their body and developed some sort of wrinkles on their stomach (read as 'six packs'). Now those of us who don't have six packs are considered to suffer from some sort of deformity. Every gym I visited and every instructor over there told me that to a large extent it depends on "You regularly hitting the gym" and to a lesser extent "It depends on your genes". Since both these causes attack my core values, I very badly want to undergo gene therapy to absolve myself of this lifelong burden.

• When I am in a state of rest (physically or mentally), I become this immovable object which won't move even if acted upon by any amount of external force like verbal or physical abuse (Newton would be really disappointed to hear this). At the end of the day my arse moves just because the earth rotates. There is a general consensus that this state of inertia is what is stopping me from achieving greater success and becoming a prominent figure of the 21st century. Since I don't see this condition among any of my fellow human beings, I am sure it has to be rare congenital defect.
• When will an Indian ever win an Olympic gold medal? Will Sania Mirza, the greatest sportswoman India never produced, ever cross the first round of a grand slam? Can India ever win a football world cup (to be little more accurate, when will it qualify for the world cup)? These questions have dominated our coffee table discussions for a very long time now. To find the answer to these questions we have to travel back several centuries when our forefathers where making pioneering efforts in maths, science and even the art of love making! At the same time the Europeans were raising armies and busy waging wars against each other. The moral of the story is, genetically we are not suited for exerting ourselves physically. So lets stop burdening our sportsmen with such unrealistic expectations and allow them to concentrate more on their social life. But if you ask me why then aren't we in the forefront of science and technology, I would simply say it is out of the scope of this discussion.    

An ode to the human spirit

Okay. Now I completely comprehend the bigger universal appeal sports enjoys over academics. Both these fields have been peppered by many a men who have time and again displayed astounding skills and an indomitable, indefatigable spirit to overcome adversity. The Einstiens, Edisons and Newtons have shown what ingenuity and creativity the human mind is capable of. The ideas they conjure up in those lofty grey areas have continually helped in the advancement of the human race. In a similar way the Sachins, Anands, Federers and Nadals apart from displaying their unique talent have also exhibited amazing mental fortitude and the highest level of competitive spirit. But in an era of instant gratification, sports heavily scores over academics because it involves live and streaming display of the primordial instinct of survival of the fittest. And one such display was the epic battle(it literally was one) fought out between Isner and Mahut on Court 18 of Wimbledon for 11 hours and 8 mins over three days!!!  

Frankly I didn't get to watch a significant portion of the match courtesy FIFA world cup which has flooded all television channels with football matches. But a scorecard which reads 6-4 3-6 6-7 7-6 70-68 conveys all the missed action and drama. I can't fathom what kept these guys consistently inspired considering the fact that it was only the first round of the Wimbledon, both the players didn't have any pride at stake and at the end of this epic marathon one man's effort was going to be in vain (And the winner Isner lost the next match in 74 minutes!!). It surely wouldn't have been the urge to win the Wimbledon championship or the adulation they were recieving from the spectators. Infact after some point they would have been impervious to their surroundings. The  one and only motivating force would have been the human mind which gets an orgasm everytime it is faced with adversity and the unrelenting human spirit which has taken our civilization so far. Interestingly almost exactly two years ago Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal played the Wimbledon final which is widely regarded as the greatest tennis match ever. Luckily I got to see the entire match live and what a match it was! I was relatively new to tennis those days and didn't know the nuances of the game. But it didn't matter because after some time tennis was side-lined and it was two supreme champions testing the elasticity of the insurmountable human spirit. The quality of tennis was always on the ascent and it seemed like the two players were conduncting a symphony on grass. 

The above two instances are only a small subset of a sample space that boasts many such hair raising experiences. Even now the thought of 'Operation Desert Storm' (Sachin's exploits in Sharjah and not that of U.S against Iraq) gives me goose-bumps.  And add to this list the way Vishwanathan Anand won the FIDE chess championship this year after a 40-hour road travel and losing the opening match. (All this makes me regret the way I treated sports and games with disdain in my school and college days. This was owing to my physical disability (read as "overweight") coupled with my pre-concieved notion that academics was superior to sports.)  For all the despiseful things that we humans keep doing to the earth's habitat and its habitants, that grey matter within our skull and its far-reaching capabilities displayed by some of our fellow scientists and sports-persons makes me to yearn to be born a human being if I have another chance.

Home Away 10 : The Nirvana

So it is that time of the year, when 'time' for a brief instance is not a continuum but rather jumps to a new start point as if resetting our lives. And as we usher into the next decade, it also marks a decade of me adventuring out of my home. From the cozy womb of my home to the hallowed portals of one lofty institution to another loftier institution to my dream career, the journey has been ebullient, enlightening, and exasperating all at once. What is to follow is a reminiscence of the indelible mark it has left on my fabric of life. (Looks like I have over indulged in hyperbole in the previous sentences. Well, that is me when I am free-flowing and just wanted to show some folks how much effort I or otherwise put to curtail my natural instincts.)

The day I left my native town to pursue college, it was the beginning of a life-long journey away from things that had defined my life till that time. And that thought was overwhelming. To add salt to the wound, the initial days in hostel did me no good either. For a boy physically and mentally corrupted by the luxuries of home nurturing, the prospect  of being on my own in a hostel (that looked all but uninhabitable) was daunting. From having a room to all myself to only having a bed, from delicious food to unpalatable grub, from washing machine to washing hands, life was clearly miserable. But it parallely opened up a new world with a lot of exciting vistas. Far from the scrutinizing eyes of my parents and in the company of friends who were in sync with me, I realized why college was the much touted sanctum of fun. If there was something that I had in abundance it was the freedom to explore and interpret the world the way I wanted. College culturals, class trips, late night shows, and late-into-the-night chats, it was a new and addictive experience. And after many years of patient waiting I also had the chance to interact with the fairer sex.

But as freedom in the hands of a corrupt politician can spoil the nation, I too started feeling the toll. Academic performance became an inverse function of the college year. Lot of technical knowledge I gained, but they weren't compatible with grades. There was a huge chasm between what I had desired and what I achieved. With a heavy heart I scraped through to the institution on the other side of the road with a brief pit stop at an IT company.

The day I landed there I realized this place wasn't going to be easy. My passion for analog design had led me here, but initially it was difficult to stand up to it high standards as I had been on a long sabbatical from academics. My guide was a genius and a task master (inseparable traits!!!) and he made a nice ham of my lazy a**. But here again I found some in-sync guys who helped me in redeeming the academic loses I had suffered. I also started developing keen interest in world cinema, world politics, photography and even my external personality (something that I thought would never engage me). And off the campus I had regular bashes with my old buddies. Towards the end, life again became miserable sans accommodation, sans job and sans signs of passing out. Those were really dark days and I was just banking on time to pop an answer. And 'time' it came when I moved to a career in analog design and thats where I am right now after ten years.

The last decade had seen the world undergo a sea of changes and thats the case with me too. The things that define my life now are vastly off from what they were a decade ago. I have undergone subtle and drastic changes and my perspective of lot of things has changed. Memories are what make us laugh at things that made us cry and cry at things that made us laugh and I am full of it.  It was a journey that I am completely happy I ventured into...

        

Those halcyon summers.....

WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

With school and college days well behind us and a long career ahead of us, these immortal lines by W.H.Davies are very much relevant during this phase of our life. So I decided to derive some nostalgic pleasure by recollecting some of those bygone days. There used to be a pocket of two months during school days when life took a dramatic U-turn - all play and no work. Its that time of that year when children think parents have no moral authority to decide what they should be doing. And it's a luxury you got only till the age of eighteen. Well, who can forget those sunny, carefree and fun-filled summer vacations....

There are many harbingers of these pleasant days. The mercury starts soaring mercilessly and juicy mangoes and rotund watermelons start populating the fruit stalls. With annual exams in full swing and summer holidays just around the corner, there is that familiar mix of apprehension and excitement gripping our hearts. Also school bags take an all new dimension and books give way to writing pads – which gets improvised into a cricket bat. And once the annual exams get over it's the start of a literal merry-go-round (As a ritual I used to throw my bag to a corner of the house after the last exam, metaphorising freedom from the clutches of studying).

As every summer set in, I used to promise myself long hours of sleep during the holidays. But somehow sleep never had a sense of occasion. When I was intently burning the midnight lamp, there it would arrive unannounced. But when I had all the time in the world to do nothing, it never yawned on me. Anyway with cousins who would come down for holidays and friends equally ready to relish the holidays, there were lot of other interesting things to do than sleep. We used to have a wide spectrum of games to chose from. Sometimes it was a game of hide 'n' seek with its myriad nomenclatures. Though simple in its conception it can easily make for a lot of fun-filled moments. The way we scrambled in search of a hideout turning every nook and corner of the house into one are still fresh in my memory. Some other times it was another of those time tested games. If we were indoors then it was one of those ingenious board games. And for those more in love with the cyber world than the real one, there were the computer games.

Though some of these games lost favor as we grew up, one game still remains close to our heart. With the streets turning into a boiling cauldron and moms yelling to get indoors, playing cricket was never going to be easy. But the love for the game that has become part of our genome code due to natural evolution ensured we spent long hours in the boiling sun. I still remember how we roamed our locality armed with bats and balls in search of another game of cricket. And as the sun was signing off for the day draping the sky in an orange splendor, we prolonged the plays as long as an iota of light was available.

Apart from playing, the leisurely mood of the summer holidays is a propitious time for catching up with novels. The vicarious pleasure derived by journeying into the fictitious worlds of "The Hardy Boys" or "Three Investigators" or our very own "Swami and his friends" is something every bibliophile will cherish for eternity. And no summers can be complete without paying a visit to our good old granny. Granny's place were always a breeding ground for fun 'n' frolic because it was a conclave of relatives and also we where away from the scrutinizing eyes of our dad. Hmm... How I wish I never grew up....