if you don’t see me tomorrow…

…then goodbye, and good-luck.

i don’t bitch that often but the open ware has started to transcend the virus through the porous veins of superficiality and finding it’s way to the left side of the world. today, sitting here, in the filth of austerity, i am finding no way to dig my karma out. but i can see, for sure, the reason why contempt flashed over the serenity of the flustered face. and more i see middle-class idiosyncrasies trying get past another and spiral into a mighty burp, i see myself getting more detached with the personality of the generation.

VJ’s Classics

It’s ringing in my head, with every alphabet taking the string and striking it with the blow of dissonance. Had it been Robben Ford, my amygdala would have channelized the safe passage and had ‘Let the Baby in’, but a discordant set of curious thoughts doesn’t get a free ride. ‘Is there anybody out there’ that could translate the universally accepted Floyd’s classics in accordance with VJ’s?

I don’t have anything evil in mind when I write this, but I just find it interesting to translate someone else’s thoughts and in conformance with mine. What’s more interesting is that my thoughts don’t differ much with the imaginary consensus that balances the strengths. I never had realized the sheer imagination that can rise through the slumbering monotone of a marketing lecture, but there are a selected few who are potent enough to break the orthodoxy of the nation and become the quintessential example of the rising generation. By the way, I love to rest my ass on the old sofa.

The classics turned out to be the essence of Gen-X’s way of looking at life, and it may just be my gray hair that resists transcending any contemporary thoughts. May be I should just try to be a little flexible and understand the deep rooted philosophy behind the classics, may be I should just stop thinking. Or may be you can decide better.

Take them with a pinch of salt (or rasam, if you insist):

Class –in the cusp of accounting; Surya S. straddling the slides and bleeding the projector…
VJ – Sir, Why do companies work on credit?

Class – especially, the bunch hiding behind the wall, agape…WHAT THE FUCK?
SS – hidden smitten on the face; who on earth can answer that? may be, i will try…
okay, we gave him the benefit of doubt; we didn’t know what was in the store and what we will endure for the days to come.

class getting back to the sliding sine wave; a voice erupted…
Sir,
i don’t see anyone,
what’s going on…
why did we stop,
why ‘s Surya s smiling again?

VJ rises from abyss: Sir, why do companies need to re-state their earning (to correct, if they stated it incorrectly)? why can’t companies hide it from the investors?

SS, clutching on the mic, trying not to look perturbed. yes, yes, i can answer that…
travail continues… discussion drifted towards invoicing and invoices;
VJ – Sir, what if you loose the invoice of your order?
HUH!
SS – get a duplicate. are you afraid of calling your vendor to send you a duplicate? oh! reliance connection might not be working.

and the travesty continued…

one more day, one more chance to raise yourself to God-hood. Shareholders seem to be happy that the company is gonna announce huge dividends…

VJ – Sir, who will track and make sure that you receive the dividends?
Excuse me…
where is the leash; snoopy, help me, i need to borrow something today…
SS – own the shares first, you ******; i am not your bloody assistant, who will track your portfolio, if you have one.

then, came a not the usual one…
VJ – Sir, how many companies in the US use LIFO system?
SS – this is not a GK class, remember? FA – getting a cue? in any case, here is the number…
we smirked.

SS showed an example wherein there was no fund impairment in a particular year, but other years had impairment.
Class – deep into the sea of FA and trying to grasp the rooted philosophy.
VJ – sir, why 2006 shows no impairment?
Mummy,
SS – common-sense; heard of it?

on the verge of finishing FA sessions,

Class – happy to be getting away from the distress…
VJ – Sir, if i sign a contract with a customer, do i show it on my revenue account…
guys, close the Ramayana, we gotta get back home; Ravana is not coming back to the home-town.

No negative thoughts; no bad feeling. Chill is the way of life – rock for a blessed few. May be a leash is a better option. Oh! For me.

and i rest my soul bare…

…may be she attained Moksha and left the cruel world in search of ‘the One’.

i feel that she had been waiting for that very moment from the time we entered the dungeon of Mr. F. – our landlord. it’s been a hide and seek between the crawlers and nocturnal (my roomie and i). may be we invaded their asylum and threatened their very existence in the age of the worthy – to be MBAs. each day of learning at the school and following night-outs must have invested discomforting thoughts into their ancient, underdeveloped minds that we were The Threat to their very existence. but then they didn’t make a move; and didn’t even try to shoo out the encroacher. huh! may be they had become the talking-managers and couldn’t fight their way out to a conclusion.

shit may be the case, she had to face it eventually, and she paid it dearly. the chirps have died in the dark of the ages and have subsided under the sound of incompetence (or incongruence for the worthy souls). i had it enough of them eating my crump out and creeping me out in the middle of night, and i finally took the gun to shoot them to glory. there dared their way in the line of fire and rested their lives for the One, for her. may be they all ventured to save her (that’s how Iris refers it) – the only female cockroach in our washroom. they died one after the other, but they successfully managed to give her an escape route. but the fate had it sounded – she couldn’t bear the burden of three dead cockroach souls on her head and, in the morning, we saw her body floating in the bucket, and we penned down the suicide case. may she (they) rest in peace – or piece. Amen!

is there a lesson we can learn out of this, or incubate a business model? i am going nuts!

oh! oh! ‘Is it worthy to be a cockroach?’ Analyze, criticize…

The final frontier; the first step

You like it or not, the circuitous turn of events will take you back to the same hour of life. The scene is not quite different; smell of ink seeping through the pages; ticking of the piece rising through the head; targeted thoughts run by the minute and stay focused on the dried, dead thoughts of the orator. It’s like coming back to the same life, with listed thoughts setting guide to the unknown. And the link goes back to the over congested nights; overwhelmed with the striking images of the recent past. How would I cope up with the settled unsettling thoughts?

It took a lot more than courage to ride my way to the 24^th SM Street; nothing but the mind is at stake; a way to behave and way to think. Notice not the ashes, but a diminishing sliver lining, which decided to rest for a while to stay alive with the optimistic thoughts. A few lively souls do traverse the path and brighten the hope to the dangerous degrees, but helping to keep standing and realizing the cushy spots along the bumpy ride. Jerry Macquire said it right “roll with the punches, tomorrow is another day”. If fight is the only way of life, then it’s prudent not to rest the armor, but to make it lethal with every grind.

But, then, there are so many dark spots that color at the horizon has decided to disguise the identity of the virgin soul. And the institution is making sure that disguised images go deep into the gallows of incompetence. The sheer lethargy of vibrant words let the message dwindle before it reaches the vestiges of the past in the wisdom tooth. What we hear and what we see is the thought of inability that tries to shape the future. With the crumbling foundation of an ignoble thought, there stands a man, with a dream to realize, a point to prove and a life to fulfill. Will it all rest on the dilapidating shoulders of the past; may be not; but on the strength to follow the trails of ages and making it glide past the demeaning thoughts of a noble institution.

It may have got a lot peripheral than I thought, but what good is the writing that doesn’t give way to the free will and the flow of unanchored thoughts? But the truth stays encumbered and squeezes through the life blood of the rising institution. What good do we do when we sprint with the zestful, but imaginary, thoughts not knowing that the relay has turned to a hurdle? A favorable, self fulfilling, prophecy would be to listen to the rooted sounds and strengthen the future for, an unbiased, good of all. That’s where the generations clash for the virtue of disguise, than for the eye of the bird. May all rest in peace, which, for sure, I won’t allow.

Au Revoir Infy

last mail from my Infy id…

Some reach the destination; some leave the quest in the middle. I will know what it turns out to be for me, but I will certainly cherish the 7.5 yrs that I trod towards the destination. Tomorrow (April 11th) is my last day with Infosys, and I want to thank you all who made the journey memorable. It’s been a great learning experience for me, and I hope that I was able to contribute my fair share to your learning. Be it at professional level, or be it at personal, I enjoyed every bit of my stay with you and Infosys. Personally, I feel that there is something common b/w my first and the last day – I am excited; there is lot more to learn and achieve and I am all ready to go round the same cycle again.

As I take a step forward and look back at the days that I spent here, I see all of you who helped me transform into a professional – to which a few might disagreeJ – I could say nothing else but ‘Thank you’. I genuinely wish that you do well in life and in your professional careers – to everyone who I met during the course ‘Good luck and Good bye’. I am certain that we will cross our paths again at some turn in life, but until then let’s rely on impregnable Google and stay connected – my personal id: batra.dheeraj@gmail.com – telecom folks: let’s not rely much on telecom – it will keep changing; jus’ kiddin’. To the unyielding: my number, till it rings – 22222 22222

If Megadeth were to say at this moment, it would have been:

A tout le monde,
A tous mes amis,
Je vous aime,
Je dois partir.

Signing off,

IRIS

Sparkle in the eye
She is trying to hide
Walking with the shadow
A picture to find
Watch her lips
Smiling with the words
She is drifting away
Leaving a feeling inside

I can love her good
More than what I should
I can see her face
But,
Will I know her name?

A thought in the air
Blushing with what’s fair
Waiting for the ages to pass
Many rains to stop
To see her again
Falling with my love
Beckoning a happy start
Holding the time to stay

I will love her good
More than what I should
I see her face
But,
Will I know her name?

I see the sparkle again
Waiting for me to say
And when she holds my hand
With the smiling way
I go down my heart
Shaking the feeling to stay
Then she cries
Asking to walk in the rain

I love her good
More than what I should
I see her face
And,
I know her name.

what do i do with this?

there couldn’t be a better start of the weekend after a few grueling weeks at the bureaucratic layers of the unbureaucratic institution. it’s not with the usual sore eyes trying to find the meaning between the mythical lines of superficial world, but something with relief and content. one level above the forehead knocked down all unyielding barriers and resisted successfully till this moment when the creaks sounded and ‘let go’ was the wisest call. with Rocky putting me back into the real world where in the hidden hierarchal professional system leveled with the dust and reality bit hard.

with so much happening around the dark corners of time, it’s getting difficult to give sufficient to what requires the most. with the unraveled enthusiasm running the veins of the newly formed committee members, with numerous e-mails that require shi(f)t+delete, with my last post hanging high accompanying the sword of Damocles, i pick the phone and call the obvious. murphy’s law again proved prudent; your restful moment will always be shaken by the uncalled for event. iris is getting fidgety about the relationship that has settled in the dust of time; i am not opposed to her questioning the causes and reasons, but to the meaning what she is giving to it. i really don’t have much to ponder about what’s right and i don’t have much strength to run it along with testing hours at the institute. who will succumb and to what?

what makes a good manager and what makes a good ‘my man’? i am to the agreement that if you run through the defined course, then you know what they want you to know, but if you jump the rail and ride the aligning discourse, you know what you want to know and what is required to be known. personally, i don’t want to lead the superficial course, and don’t want that tag that along. infosys had been successful in making me a practical manager and i won’t like to shed the practicality in favor of superficiality. delve deeper, but don’t dig into pages of the past. live in the present, think about the future, shoot at the past and smile to life. it seems easier to do than it actually is; well! may be a lot difficult for the X-chromosomes. so, what makes it good – be it in management, or be it being ‘man’? a superficial behavior or a deep love?

In the dark of night…

…it is always 3 in the morning.

and this night is no different. The day started with a set goal of accomplishing the set targets, of which going to bed on time was on priority. But fate has something else scribbled, hidden behind the monotone of the day. Most of it happened as planned, until we set out to shape the KarmaYoga project. After not so much effort, we found a registered organization, near Saidapet, that works towards welfare of the needy. And as fate had it, they were on the brink of calling in help to support the effort in Atma Nagar Village (a slum area near Saidapet bus-stand) that charred down into scrap after the blazing fire yesterday.

The talks commenced amidst chirps of mynas, but ended with the wrenching cries of the few who endured the pain and were scavenging through the scraps in hope to get a glimpse of their belongings, which will never be their’s again. It was heartening to see such a disaster; almost 200 people were left without food, clothes, shelter and the necessities, and with pain, anger, desolation and uncertainty. The Hindu ran an article on the disaster and comfortably pointed that everyone was provided with food, clothes and basic necessities. But the truth on the ground didn’t agree with the beliefs of the common. Most of the inhabitants complained about not getting the proper attention from the municipality and the police.

What came out: people who owned the land in the village and whose houses were damaged were compensated with Rs. 2000, 1 saree and a few pounds of rice. Authorities seemed to be detached from the reality. I don’t say that they wouldn’t have tried to serve the cause, but that they didn’t assess the situation completely and made the first judgmental verdict. We met a family who showed us a burnt down cup-board, which they used to store clothes and books. Everything else conceded, the family was heart-broken by the loss that its kids suffered – gift of knowledge. Mind you, it seemed an ordinary village, which provides maids and sweepers to the surrounding community, but the kids conversed in English. There were a few more issues that surfaced, which the authorities may never encounter, that is: families that were staying on rent and have lost everything that they possessed, but the government would be giving the compensation to the land-owners, who might not have visited the place in years.

At this stage, priority is to provide food and shelter, but the precursor to that, which we decided, is to arrange for plates (for food) and tumblers. There will be many other issues that need to be sorted out for village’s rehabilitation, and I hope that we would be able to help them some way. It’s quarter to 3 and I can’t see nothing, but my pillow. And at this point, after digging the entrepreneurial roots and dissecting P/E variables, I got nothing but a drained soul. Gotta rush back to my house.

Partial night-outs et al.

no real work has started yet; none of the self-defacing perceptions have skipped through the pages of Empirical studies, but the eyes are sore already and the cerebrum is getting cues to search the way towards the comforting bed. time has rolled back a few years and after mid-night deliberations on unwarranted topics have started to regenerate. it’s been an interesting turn of events till date; from many dignitaries face-a-face to individuals’ ability to put everyone to sleep, last few days have given a good insight into what the falling year will paint.

JCs walked out and Champions have taken the stage, but not without the blood that spilled in the process. perspectives are going wild and clash of cracked heads is leading to an uncompromising fight between the resting and the unyielding. but one thing is for sure, and that is ones own ability to walk the missing line and lead the way – not for anyone else, but oneself. the institution is on her way to standing tall, but inbred bureaucracy of the Indian institution tries to shake the unstable foundation. at this stage, all one can do is to stay focused and be confident about making a mark while shooting in the dark – well! not quite that way; okay, let’s discount it with a 60W florescent bulb.

it’s time to introspect, to coordinate, to network and to learn the basics with righteous self-respect. i may fall short on meeting all of these, but won’t loose the focus – life is at stake. remember! more than that the push to prove myself again is hardest to shake hands with. but am i left with a choice? not really; and to a fledgling extent, i don’t want a choice. in all the positive ways, it will be an interesting 1 year away from work and from the soporific turn of the days. it’s time to reinvent and reconfigure the mind and the state. the need of the hours is not only learn, but also cast the days to come. good that Veeranam is keeping the heads cool, otherwise the scorching heat would have drained juices out of our veins. i hope to keep the tempo high and keep Veeranam alive for the next 50 weeks. Amen!

Change is the essence…

… and hopefully, this time, it is happening for good. If not, I will make it that way. I am back to where I started. Literally. Chennai has an invisible charm (!) that has made its way into my blood stream. I am back on the sweltering roads of Chennai with a faith of starting it all over again – start of a career and a mid-start of the career. It’s gonna be one interesting year ahead and I hope to make it a turning point of my career. And with a few distinguished names taking the lead, I am sure that the missing pieces will fall in place.

What’s at stake? I guess everything. My professional career won’t be the same once I return; my personal life clings to the edge with a ray of hope. But now, as the pages have turned, I must shed the apprehensions and strengthen the feeling of fulfillment; many promising thoughts help build the faith, but only the time (or relentlessness) will tell what takes charge – we study the past to predict the future. Let’s hope some one gets lucky this time.

I know you won’t gather much out of this post, but, I assure you that things will get clear as I re-commence on my writing habit over the blog.

what was i thinking?

Splitting images rest in the past,
Fading pages drift in the dark,
Leading the hope I turn it clear…

Goodbye

You loved me nice,
Embraced me good,
Gave me breath, gave me truth,
Walked besides holding my hand,
Were the light where darkness prays.

You took me high, many ages beyond,
Standing ahead of an impending thought,
Pulled me out when I dug the hole,
You were shining and a ray of hope.

Gave me friends, gave me foes,
Learning is what you never closed,
Losing the sight of the grown ambition,
Something doesn’t fit with the creation.

Time I take a deviant turn,
You stay with me is what I yearn,
Many years you loved me close,
Time we sing a nascent prose,
I look at you and take a sigh,
Taking it forward I bid you goodbye.

Come Be My Light

It ain’t the phrase what the Renaissance protagonist would have said to a rosy face, smiley eyes effervescent beauty. For that matter, it ain’t the catchy phrase that I am saving for my lover. And for heavens sake, it is not what Ameren UE is leaving on my voice mail. What is it then? Is that something potent enough to make somebody ‘a saint’ a sinner? This is what Mother Teresa has ‘supposedly’ written in her confession to Father ‘i don’t remember who’ (that Jesus called her to be His light to the pitied and the ones in need); the gist of which is that Mother Teresa had doubt in her faith towards eternal existence (which I tend to agree, but that’s not the point), and that she lived with it for more than 50 years of her servitude – the writer may call it.

I heard about all the talk a few weeks back, but didn’t find enough push towards forcing myself to Google it and read it through, until Time’s latest edition showed up at my doorstep and I nothing, but wondered, what could this possibly be. So the first thing that after I finished my daily after-work chores was to pick the copy and read it till the last word. Without blinking, mind you. And what changes after all the reading? Just that a minuscule ‘wow’ became a “WOW”. But did that really change the image of “The Saint”, “The Mother Teresa”, the one who served an alien country all her life, without shedding a drop of sweat? I see many raising hands in affirmation, but I beg to disagree with the crowd, or the ever-naysayers.

The letters that the Mother wrote in her confession clearly shows that she had doubts in the existence of Jesus and that her inner darkness raised her nothing beyond an average human-being. An average human being, who we all admired for her selfless acts, for her being true follower of Him. Did we call her saint because she was a true follower, or because she worked on something beyond just putting in posters inviting ‘the claded’ for Sunday Mass or morning prayers? We know all that, deep in our hearts. Can we go really rise over our heads and strip someone with something that the whole world has given with love and faith? Can we divest our beliefs on a fractiously written, hoping to make millions, deprecating pages of Brian Kolodiejchuk‘s book? I know you would love to see the hero fall, but won’t that fall with the belief in humanity?

But for that matter, who has designed the system of calling an average human ‘A saint’? An average person, who walked ages to serve the un-served, to help the ones who the country of a billion has always ignored, and still doing so. Walk the line that you haven’t seen before, you will know how difficult it is to believe. Cross the borders and extend your hand, you will know what you get in return. Suppress your beliefs and believe in the faith of other, and you will understand what it’s like to feel a saint from within.

Want to feel the saint within? Don’t wander around miles above the sea-level, don’t substitute your external self with the rags, don’t sit in prayers at 6 in the morning, don’t close your eyes before the family meal, and, please, don’t sit 15 feet high at the platform and see the beleaguered chant to your nursery rhymes. Stand in the middle of crowd and extend your hand to help the one in need (may not be your wife here); shed the non-existent shackles of society and walk with the under-privileged (not the ones that arjun singh talks about); share your meal with the one who haven’t eaten for 4 days; you would feel nothing, but a saint. ‘A Saint for the Day’.

‘A Saint a Day’ is what we need to rise above the unfortunate talks to proclaiming somebody a sinner, or a saint. Would you stop believing in Hendrix, raise your voice to SRV, shy away from Marley, if I tell you that they had ‘Dark Light’ hidden somewhere in the dungeons of their outer self? C’mon get back to real work – you have four billion waiting for you to come and extend your hand.

“I want to love Him as He has never been loved before.”

some things are just meant to happen,

so does getting to read something extraordinary just for the fact that you didn’t find anything else to read. and a feeling to surrender to someone else’s philosophy to take you deep into the process of assessing your own life. this is what happened when i surrendered my thoughts to keep up with a goonda. a gangster. no, i didn’t join a cult group or a faction. i just finished reading Shantaram – a story of a gangster, told by a gangster.

i must accept that it took me more than two-and-a-half months to finish this book, but i must also confess that it was worth it. the great part is that it never occurred to me that i have had enough of this guy and it’s time to move onto something more subtle. this book did nothing less than an extraordinary job to make a real-life-hero out of a gangster. every minuscule narration in this brings out the literary genius of GDR. and at this point, i think i have enough of his wisdom that i can distinctly delineate each character from the book. hmm, i see them often )

GDR must have added lots of twists and turns to the real story, but the way it’s been told is what holds the line. the philosophy did the just thing to keep it real and to relate to difficult details of life. did i find myself crying while turning the weight to one side? possibly. do i respect the courage and vision with which goondas lead their lives? certainly. it’s not for what they do, or how they do it, but for the confidence and organization with which they do it.

what i wonder is, what made him positive in all his dealings. the book portrayed him as someone who you would walk to any point in time and he would be ready to help you out. i think that is the soul of this book and which is what kept it alive till the last written word, any beyond. keep yourself open to all that happens to you and you will see wonders. may be, you will pay dearly to experience that, but, certainly, a million will be enlightened with your experience.

for what it’s worth, thanks for making a literary genius out of a runaway. i am not sure whether Shantaram’s sequels could be as invigorating, but i would wait for them. life goes on… (fuck, i thought i would write a review, i just ended with a cryptic note.)

disbelief or discontent?

you stand infront of the mirror, you dig into your soul, ponder over the things that you can’t understand and, finally, give up the spirit that keeps you from losing. is it the belief that you can’t hold upon, or is it that you are not content with the status you have achieved? is one leading to another and running in circles? or, am i losing a good frame of mind? this is sick… when you start to loose confidence, cringe on any thought of jumping ahead, shed any possibility of standing for your ethos, you know you are fucked.

gotta get more into dream theater…

hoo haa India. Aaya India

so the wait is over now; no more sleepless nights; no more baseless discussions during office hours; no more throwing blame on ‘The Fantastic 11′. The Indian team is coming home and that ‘s the truth. It’s the time when the saints think that everything stands against them, and they are left stranded in the middle to face the apocalypse. But is it just that? The saints are standing against their own beliefs and diggin them down.

started with a happy note,
glanced sideways with some hope,
turned into a sloppy boat,
come down home, have some dope.

Aaya India:

waiting for the hour to click,
sitting down with an empty wish,
uneasiness that passed the jitters,
nothing but the weary prayer.

rushed down along the road,
many wishing to knock the floor,
zipped passed many in wait,
mind moving with an uneven gait.

ticked down after a minute,
shifting sides to gather the wait,
ecstatic feeling shouting the fear,
and, we started with a formidable spear.

blood rushed through the head,
conflicts rose equate the fear,
prophecy is showing the face,
it’s time to end the race.

came down hard on us,
jaded eyes soothe the ire,
impeded the flow of thoughts,
got nothing but the naughts.

turned into a disastrous fillip,
shed tears and take the sip,
you can’t do more wrong,
guys, it’s time that you come home.

hands down!

Is it just me or is it the 1/6th of the world? hooooo haaaaa Indiaaaaaaa… aayaaaaa Indiaaaaaa… you get it.

& here it goes…
you Made Me Cry, You Told Me Lies
but I Can’t Stand To Say Goodbye
mama, I’m Coming Home
i Could Be Right, I Could Be Wrong
hurts So Bad, It’s Been So Long
mama, I’m Coming Home…

the queue will always be there

monday morning, steering to the corner,
tapping windows, following the grind,
twenty cars, a thought brushed my mind,
the queue will always be there.

screeching buses, rushed to the gates,
checking the bags, passing them clear,
we carrying a gun, what they fear,
hey! the queue will always be there.

walked a mile, ran to the loo,
strangling bodies, urging to clear,
heard the voice, coming my way,
the queue will always be there.

climbing the walls of a disgruntled spaceship,
knocking heads, rushing for the food,
bowel movement, doing no good,
you say, the queue will always be there.

arduous journey to complete the year,
thought of promotion, grappling in fear,
fate subsided, your peer got it there,
they say, the queue will always be there.

crossed my fingers, drowning in the blue,
wish i walk by without a queue,
no matter what is your fear,
i say, i say, the queue will always be there.

will I call it quits – a travelogue

…you must be kiddin’

This is the time when the core reality knocks the door of the farce world. The imminent is what that holds the truth. It is not what you think is right, but it is what the life makes you realize on every turn.

nayy, I am not upto writing some philosophical finding that I dug over the weekend, but to try putting down my first-hand experience with death. I’m just kiddin’. I went to the waterfall rappelling trip last weekend to Malshez (in Thane distt.) with a bunch of over-zealot guys. It was one of the best (adventurous) experiences I have ever had. It’s something that ‘s difficult to put in words, but even more difficult to experience first-hand.

We started-off from Pune on late Friday evening; it’s a drive of around 3 hours from Pune. With no idea what to expect for next two days, we were shouting our lungs out to the music that no one had a particular interest in. With the parody to one and dumb-charade to other, the moment put us all in high spirit. An extra tinge was added by a late night drinking spree at Malshet. With all the high energy and a nice sleep under the moon lit sky, we were all set to take on the next day.

The day started earlier than usual with the Dhumketu (a professional group that organizes adventure sports and outings) guys shouting over our heads to get-up and get ready for early excitement. Alright, it was time for some earl morning lecture and we were told not to smoke, litter plastic and drink – what! didn’t see that coming. Hell!! what will happen to the SmirnOff that’s waiting from quite some time for me to twist its neck? Well, that’s left to be seen. After a small trek and a handshake with the rising sun, we reached the place where we would make our first decent. Fuck! a 400 feet drop.

Well! I guess, just because so many guys were waiting to take the plunge make others (and me) feel that everything is gonna be just fine. Furthermore, a little of excitement was making sure that I don’t run away ;o) I’m sure, in any case, I wouldn’t have. So, here I’m, standing on the edge of the cliff, hanging with a bare 1/2 inch rope, and nothing else to support. I took a quick look down-fuck! it’s gonna be a long-long journey. It started off pretty well, with me bouncing off the wall, making sure I don’t break the rope. For a moment it felt good, and then there was an overhang – nothing to support me, but air. Was it my head that was spinning, or me? I have no clue, as I was trying my level hard to reach to the bottom of the cliff. A brush of water from the fall shook my senses, and I somehow reached the bottom. Hell! that was some experience.

Was I afraid, No! But there was nothing much I could do to convince myself that I wasn’t. I guess, it was just the heart and head fighting over some trivial issue. Yeah! right.The fact that no one was doing any better, gave me confidence and the new motto that “everyone falls the first time”.

Now, it was time for the Flying-Fox (or firefox). It was to cross the trench across, hanging down the rope. By this time I was a little confident that I can do it and I just jumped over cliff and crossed it in time. Some hope for life. This was the end of the adventure for Day-1 and how can it culminate without getting drenched under a waterfall? So, here we were, without giving a second thought to people around, jumped into the pool. The night came in quite early, and again, we were all sitting across the fire and singing our lungs out. It was quite an experience sleeping next to the waterfall, with nothing but stars looking down on us.

The next day had 3 descents in the bag. Two 250 feet drops and a 90 feet drop. Those went pretty well and the whole show culminated with a plunge in the pool. And, here, we got a chance to celebrate it fully with the Vodka shots in the middle of the pool. Can’t just let that go. A 5KM trek and we reached the place where we had to end our journey. Smiles, stories, jokes, and, yes, songs took the front seat again. 3 hours of the music show ended at Pune with nice memories and goodbyes.

When I couldn’t think it over anymore…

Slap! Slap! it’s globalization stupid!

Today, it’s everywhere; it’s the most potent force that is sweeping Indian streets and minds. From the moment you wake-up to the moment you lie down. It’s hitting us every moment in ever different forms you can even imagine. We have started to take it as a part of our daily life and culture that we don’t assume that it is not our’s. Yes, we have adopted it, and adopted it well. But can we ever deny that it doesn’t belong to us? I couldn’t.

The moment I cut the engine of my American branded, European styled, Indian assembled Ford Ikon and switching off car’s Japanese branded, China made Pioneer car stereo with Korean speakers, I am deep into the waters of Globalization. When I unlock the UK made Yale lock I started to feel the affect of the Globalization. When I take off my European-Indian-made Lee Coopers and Amerian-Indian-made Samsonite back-pack and put them in an Indian made rack I am started to shiver with the affects of Globalization.

What else should I see to realize that it is there? I decided to give myself a tour of my measly furnished house. I got into the room where I keep my clothes; with American Levi’s, UK’s Pepe’s and Lee Cooper’s, Reebok, Nike, Louis Philippe, Van Heusen, Gap, Tommy Hilfiger, Polo Ralph Lauren, Nautica, Dockers, BlackBerry lining the rack, I noticed a Canon SLR eyeing from a Samsonite handbag. Boy! I am in midst of something big. Did I ever realize this. No, not even in distant dreams. Then I walked a little more and was hit by the Korean Samsung Refrigerator, which is the only possesion I have in my kitchen.

I was flabbergasted, but I decided to walk a little more in my small 2 bed apartment. I walked into my entertainment-cum-bedroom and noticed a Korean-Indian-made Samsung TV set on the top of the stand that is made keeping American style in mind. Attached to it is a Satellite radio tuner imported from Taiwan and my one nice possesion – A Japanese branded, China made, US bought, Indian import Onkyo music system. I turned and noticed a side table, which is lined with books comprising Teach yourself French, Bono on Bono, omnibus Saki and others, along with the Sony headphones and a Sony digicam, which is cased snugly into a China made camera case. Man! I was thinking, what does this all means? And I really didn’t get any answer.

And while sipping a Diet Coke with a Nokia in my hand and leafing through Friedman’s ‘The World is Flat’ I realized that the guy is actually right. We are passing through a zone where the world is turning upside down, in silence, and no one is noticing. May be a few do. It’s all about competing in the leveled world and putting in place the best in class and taking advantage of it. The ones who do are on the top of the world and ones who had just realized are sitting on the floor typing on a Japanese branded, well Japanese made, US bought, India imported Sony Vaio notebook while listening to Led Zep on a California designed, China made iPod. It’s Globalization at its best.

We Indians come cheap

Despite that fact that The India Factor has terrorized the world over, we Indians come cheap. In real terms. The ideas that affect the generation, the relationship that kills the nation and the need that exploits the beliefs are all make we Indians cheap. From government policies that languish the freedom of speeh (ah! blocked my ‘c’ already) by blocking the blog contents, to the ever scorned neighbours killing the innocent, to the herd running behind low-end jobs are making Indian context cheap in the India Shining regime.

Whatever resentment the bloggers had against the government inadequacy to control the situation in Bombay, the government didn’t have (ethical) authority to block their way out to shout their opinions. It’s the India that English would have envisioned, but we have come a long way to rise above these petty ideas and can behave as a reasoned country. However much a government try, the history is a witness, free will and acts come out in open and make their way to the mass of the understanding few. Chinese governement can dictate what people should think, but it can’t still hold the free will. Taliban tried, and is trying, the same for years, but still the free will makes its way out; well, not quite often though. We Indians can’t think on those lines and surely can’t walk in the restricted boundary. The freedom will be misused for sure, but you will always have more on the positive side to make it better.

pakistan for one is really making us believe that we do come cheap. We have tried for decades to calm the situation down, but with no substantial outcome to the process. I firmly believe that deep down our hearts we know that there is no solution to the Kashmir issue because neither side will relent to the want of other. We try just because we need to, to show that we are a peace loving country. For how long will be succumb to uncalled for expectations and live under the shadow of terror? I am certain that till India and pakistan are attached by geographical boundaries, we won’t find the resolution to the issue. There could be another aspect of this issue: may be we don’t want this issue to be resolved. What else will we have to fight for; it’s the inherent aggression that we have to subside one way or the other.

And when we have had swallowed enough of cheapness, there comes “Indians are Cheap” cry from all over the world that I had to throw up to see it myself. Indian IT did make a mark all over the world and made real the Globlization 2.0 (per Tom Friedman) a reality and India did rise above the neutrality to stand on the higher ground, India didn’t save herself from the scorns of millions. It’s just not the world who is saying that Indians are special (special cheaps?), we (Indians) do feel that we are special (not cheap), but we have taken a long circuitous way to heaven. And, I guess, we expected some (many) raised eyebrows. Probably that was the only one in sight. It surely will take a lot of hard work to shed the global belief that it’s cheapness “anywhere you see”. Early signs have started to surface. It’s just the matter of time now.

So what makes us unique? One thing that I can think of is our ability to rise above the petty politics and government policies and terror and external pressure and present our best to the world and ourselves.

Adieu F1

Finally, he got it straight and decided to move under the shadow of his previous boss ‘Ganassi’. He has been a phenomenon on the F1 circuit and would certainly leave a void in the line-up. After his debut in 2001, he rose to the ranks where the likes of Shumi were apprehensive about getting past this guy; the perfect attitude towards the game and spirit to fight till the end made this guy the likeble to all. You like it or not, everyone had a corner that always praised this guy one way or the other.
The sudden exit might have been hastened by the team McLaren pile-up along with other 3 at the Indianapolis this season. But I think he has been feeling the heat from quite some time – from his era with Shumi jr. Long gone the days – I am sure he will find his way up to the elites of the NASCAR where Earnhardt(s) have made home. Well, he can’t expect the kind if salary ($12M) that he got as McLaren driver, but would surely find NASCAR more fun and exiting. Finally, that what actually matters. (How big a difference would it be if you get a million less – not a lot to you and me )

Good luck to the good guy (Juan Pablo Montoya)! Now, he is free to drive the Ferrari(s).

…and the legend lives on

ZZ will remain ZZ in the eyes and hearts of his fans and admirers. No matter what a 30% of French says that he led them to defeat, he will stay a legend and a wonderful player to most of the French and others around the world. A lot has been talked and judged on what happend on the pitch on that fateful day, but the truth may never come out fully. Would he be repeating the same hall-of-shame infront of the media who will make fun out of no reason? I don’t believe so, but we would know that in some time.

ZZ was caught in a little bustle in this not so ideal world and that too on his last formal appearance as a French mid-fielder. Marco Meterazzi puked the Italian dirt and got a butt in return. However much he try to come clean out of it, the shadow will follow him; and that’s not just for Meterazzi, ZZ too can’t come out clean out of what he did on the most watched and admired competition under the sun. Yes, giving the benefit-of-doubt in favor of ZZ will appease a part of the commotion out of the scene, but will never let him hold the Godly status. Well, he can stay demi-god and lead the crowd. And given the fact that Chiraq and the Coach and the team and the host of politicians have given him a clean chit and re-assured that Zidane will remain Zidane because, well, he is Zidane, ZZ will remain a legend for millions.

Zidane has been in the news since 1998′s French triumph over the coveted gilded trophy. His two headers against Croatia led the French to the finals; we know the rest. That wasn’t just being the French factor, but his adaptability to lead and perform when it was needed the most. We may forgive him of what he did this summer, but who can forget what ZZ is to football? That great control over the ball, that killing of ball after each pass, that finesse in the last minute hit, that coolness over the pitch (well!!), that unnerving presence in the ground can never be forgotten and will be remebered and talked for the decades to come.

What I heard is that he will be setting his career as a coach to the young/emerging teams in France and will help them learn the best from the best. I hope he is able to impart the best of ZZ into the new generation, minus the worst of it. I hope we see more of him in shape of the next generation. I would love if he could bestow the ability to find that extra moment before delivering the ball to his students, but that may just be the innate talent and may just go to bed with him.

ZZ has created an aura over the football world and which will oversee the grace and glory for centuries to come.

I give a damn…

It’s funny that whenever I see this logo (of Deccan airlines) I get into a mode of criticizing the advert that made it public. What was the promotion manager thinking when he/she designed this logo? Oh! I got it. In any case, Deccan is not going to pay me much, so why bother. I give a Damn! And that’s where this all started and made into the books of cheapest logo of all times.

Alright, I up my hands and I give a Damn to what you say. I think this was the strategy since the inception of the airlines. I mean, whatever the customer feels, any way they suffer, I will just throw my hands up and say hey! I give a Damn. And what else is the best to make your point clear than having your logo sends the message? I see it everywhere, all over the non-existant air and ground crew. My flight is late; Sir, I give a Damn. There is no information about the flights; Sir, I give a Damn. I see that the toilets are not clean; Sir, I give a Damn. I am choking, get me water; give me 10 bucks, or choke to death; Sir, I give a Damn. Someone just puked next to my seat; Sir, I give a Damn, when people give a Damn.

I don’t have anything against the airlines, just that it is never on time, the hostess comes and ask ‘whether you want to pay 10 bucks for water now, or later?’, or you never get to find out whether you are in a wrong flight until you fly over Pune instead of Ahemdabad. And when you find a courage and talk to the just-out-of-sleep airlines professional, you will get a message ‘Sir, didn’t you notice our logo – it’s all over, should I turn around? Sir, you are too stupid to understand. Sir, we throw our hands up and we just give a Damn! (to what you say, what you feel).

And than I thought, at least, they called me Sir. Hell yeah! I give a Damn.

same old tactic…

are they back to the same tactic? Or, is it just another innocent giveaway?

do I code?

Is it just Leonardo Da Vinci (from Vinci), or Dan Brown, or it’s me (and my group) who tried decode the fickle mystery of time? I finally got a chance to go for the movie and to grasp why there is so much flurry about this movie. Or, the book for that matter. Now, I feel it is a good time to grab the book and decode what is already decoded.

So what do you learn after watching this movie? It is, to save the descendants of Jesus and Mary Magdalene, churches buried the truth that Jesus was married. And the spoken words from the perfectionist that Leonardo, with a twist, tried to bring out the truth through ‘The Last Supper’. One interesting thing that came out, or what I interpreted, was that it was to save Mary Magdalene’s life that Jesus was called God, when he was just a normal man. Churches wanted the chaotic world to have faith in the powers of the Church so as to make it more powerful and have a final word. It seems like an epic that was written behind the closed doors of the Churches with a tactic in mind – you have more followers, you have more power.

I must say that the director made a decent effort to make the audience glued to their seats till the last moment. Without a single Sine-Sound wave, the audience tried to grasp every iota of information delivered. And I am sure that noone got out displeased. To me, it was a nice movie, which gave a fine blow and made cerebrum deliver fast and relate one dialogue to another, with the history that is already stored. I might go for the movie again to make sure that I didn’t miss any detail that it expected to convey. There is something about these kind of movies that you feel and interpret differently each time you watch them. In fact, I always get a new though each time I watch Matrix.

Now, how is it linked to me and my group? This is the exact discussion that I have had with my friends – before Dan Brown’s book hit the shelfs. The discussion ran around the point that it is quite possible that Brahmins in India wanted to be the most respectful sect of all and needed followers from the whole community. The conspiracy could have led to writing scriptures quoting the existence of God. All the epics could have just been farce, but have been potrayed as God’ly. Who else can prove the existence of the Gods/demiGods, but the faith. A faith led to another and found a place in mythology. And, I believe, it wasn’t that difficult for the only educated sect, that is, the Brahmins. Had Kshatriyas, Vaisyas had there own way, the Brahmins would have been extripated from their existence.

But, in the end, it is the faith that makes you to believe an epic or a story. A feeble being needed someone to ask for help when everything else failed. Or, it is just that we wanted someone as a scapegoat. In any case, howevermuch we try, we can’t afface the faith that is deeply rooted in our very existence.

Whatever be the truth, each one of us call to someone for an answer, when everything else seems dark.