I don't know if it's just me but I have developed this new kind of syndrome lately. I can't go through a day without reading at least 50 e-mails. Now, you might be wondering what the big deal is. But I'm the kind of guy who never used to deal with emails until I joined the software industry recently. Every single day, I come to office and switch on my computer and see that there are about 200 new e-mails to be read. I have always wondered why people sit in trains, buses, coffee shops and even shopping malls looking at their laptops and reading e-mails. I thought they were pretending to be some kind of cool people who form the high class of society and can afford to buy laptops and show off. Why would you come to a mall to read mails? Unfortunately, now I know. It's addictive(And I kept myself away from alcohol and cigarettes all my life). Does it make you look cool? I don't know. What will you think of a guy sitting in a train reading mails on his laptop and replying to it using his blackberry. I guess you will have some sort of respect for him assuming he might be a very important man in whatever he does. Who else would have a blackberry with them? Or do you think I should get therapy?
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Perspectives
Rohan's manager Roger Heathrow came to India last month from Dallas for a week. This was his first time in India, and he was really looking forward to it. He came to attend Rohan's marriage in Bangalore. He got here on a Saturday morning, and I went to the airport to pick him up. We walked towards our Taxi to start our one-hour 6 kilometre journey to the hotel he was staying. He was stunned to know it will take 1 hour to travel almost 4 miles in his metric system. He asked me why that is. I thought I won't spoil the surprise and put him in the front seat of the cab. The driver entered the HAL road and stopped at the first traffic signal we encountered. It said 34 seconds. We were stopped right behind a petroleum truck. There was about 3 feet between the truck and our car. And Roger was sitting in the front seat with his mouth wide open. He was rechecking his seat belt, but I didn't know how that would help. Terrified, Roger asked me why isn't there a safe distance between the two vehicles. It was at that moment a biker went through the 3 feet gap and somehow reached the front of the waiting line. There was a policeman standing on the side controlling the traffic, and he didn't even care. I can't express how shocked Roger was seeing that. He started talking about how the people in America follow traffic rules and how good their traffic department was. When the light turned green, the traffic started moving very slowly. And by the time our car reached the front of the queue, the signal turned red again. But our driver out of impatience drove through the red light and dashed away like a lightning. Roger was shouting to me that we ran through a red light. It was no big deal to me. We reached the hotel in almost an hour. I left for home after he checked into his room.
I had to pick him up the next day to get to Rohan's wedding in time. We got into the taxi and left for the auditorium which was about eight kilometres away. We didn't have much of a traffic this time since it was a Sunday. When we were on the highway, we saw a kid(about 16 years old) do a wheelie in the middle of the road at about 70 kmph on a Yamaha RX100. Roger was shocked to see this and started from where he left off the previous day talking about the bad driving conditions in India and the superior ones in the United States. Even though whatever he was saying was making me really angry, I didn't comment and kept nodding my head. Partly because whatever he was saying was true, and partly because he was Rohan's manager. He described the lines on the road as 'Suggestions' to the drivers, and not rules. He was talking about the policemen who didn't do their job, how close we drive zig-zag on a straight road, how dangerous it is to drive in these conditions, and how much traffic this kind of driving is causing. Finally, I replied saying that we don't have big accidents and pileups here in this traffic because we can't drive that fast. He heard the bitterness in my voice and stopped talking about traffic anymore.
He left soon after the wedding for Texas. He was a busy man. And again, I had to drop him at the airport. This time I took Ashwin's car and drove myself. I tried my best to follow all the traffic rules this time. He didn't talk about the traffic this time, but enquired about the places to see in India the next time he visited. He promised he would surely visit when he gets a chance. At the airport, after saying our goodbyes, I was about to leave when he told me to drive carefully and gave me a funny smile. I smiled back at him and left.
I heard from Rohan that Roger died last week in Dallas at the age of 37. He was hit by a stray bullet inside a supermarket when two 15 year old kids were trying to rob the place. He was on his way back home from office and stopped to buy beer. I was sad to hear that. He was a nice guy.
Perspectives...
I had to pick him up the next day to get to Rohan's wedding in time. We got into the taxi and left for the auditorium which was about eight kilometres away. We didn't have much of a traffic this time since it was a Sunday. When we were on the highway, we saw a kid(about 16 years old) do a wheelie in the middle of the road at about 70 kmph on a Yamaha RX100. Roger was shocked to see this and started from where he left off the previous day talking about the bad driving conditions in India and the superior ones in the United States. Even though whatever he was saying was making me really angry, I didn't comment and kept nodding my head. Partly because whatever he was saying was true, and partly because he was Rohan's manager. He described the lines on the road as 'Suggestions' to the drivers, and not rules. He was talking about the policemen who didn't do their job, how close we drive zig-zag on a straight road, how dangerous it is to drive in these conditions, and how much traffic this kind of driving is causing. Finally, I replied saying that we don't have big accidents and pileups here in this traffic because we can't drive that fast. He heard the bitterness in my voice and stopped talking about traffic anymore.
He left soon after the wedding for Texas. He was a busy man. And again, I had to drop him at the airport. This time I took Ashwin's car and drove myself. I tried my best to follow all the traffic rules this time. He didn't talk about the traffic this time, but enquired about the places to see in India the next time he visited. He promised he would surely visit when he gets a chance. At the airport, after saying our goodbyes, I was about to leave when he told me to drive carefully and gave me a funny smile. I smiled back at him and left.
I heard from Rohan that Roger died last week in Dallas at the age of 37. He was hit by a stray bullet inside a supermarket when two 15 year old kids were trying to rob the place. He was on his way back home from office and stopped to buy beer. I was sad to hear that. He was a nice guy.
Perspectives...
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
...footPrints...
I got my first real six-string, bought it at the five and dime…
Played ‘til my fingers bled, it was the summer of 69…
Me and some guys from school, had a band and we tried real hard…
Jimmy quit, and Jody got married, I should’ve known, we’d never get far…
Oh when I kook back now, that summer seems to last forever…
And if I had a choice, ya I’d always wanna be there
Those were the best days of my life...
There is a reason why this Bryan Adams song is, was and always will be the best in the world ever. It sings a story about life. A part of life that every one of us has lived through. A part of life everybody wants to live all over again.
Today, we are all in different parts of India
I remember the days when we started our journey. The ragging sessions everyday. All the things the seniors made us do in front of the class, and we couldn’t look up and smile, ‘coz it could be us next. The dosas Preena made, the duet by Sen and Tina, and finally, the fresher’s day celebrations which was the icing on the cake. The way we embarrassed ourselves was out of this world. I don’t remember one programme out of the 60 minutes we had which was worth applauding for. We showed our talent, and got booed big time. This was the first step and we went for it, even though it ended on a very bad note. Those memories bring smiles to me now, and I bet it would do the same to you. Our class tours, they were the best. The trip to Ooty in the second year, the Mathews-Rincy enactment, the KK-Sherin enactment, and the Rajavu ki Jai, the Hogganakkal falls, the Ramoji film city, the late night songs in the hotel corridor. I miss those days. The lab sessions, the lab exams, and the lab records, the assignments that somebody wrote, the classes I never attended, the virtuosos, the arts festivals, the strikes, the exams, the suppli’s, the Thankachan Sir, and all the other things that passed us during our stay there. Our Vadam-Vali team, our pookalams, our Mr. University. We really had a lot as a team, even though we never won anything as a team. Until the last year, when we won the biggest of all the prizes in the last competition we took part as a team, Keli-06. I really miss those days. I guess that’s what Bryan Adams was trying to say. Those really were the best days of my life.
Now I’m in some city where time runs faster that I can catch it. Days zipping past by like bullets. I’m still in my journey in life that has no destination. And when I think of the days in college, it brings tears to my eyes, a tear of joy for the days we spent together, a tear of sadness for the fights I had, a tear of joy for the friends that I made, and a tear of sadness for the friends that I lost. I realize that I could have got back everything that I had lost in college if I ever get to live that life again, but I know it’s impossible. And today, when I think of the batch of ’06, the rhythm of RIT, which has become a rhythm of my own heartbeat, I realize that I have gained much in life in those four years than anything I have or ever will in my whole life.
Friday, July 27, 2007
The beAuTifuL sTraNger
“Ok pal, see you next time you come home”. I was shouting my voice off. Man I’ll miss Abdul. But that’s fine. I’ll bring him to Bangalore after I settle down there. After all, he was my best friend.
I was going to Bangalore to join Siemens as a software engineer. I’ve never been to Bangalore in my life before. But I have a good idea about the place. If what I heard is right, I’m gonna meet a lot of hot girls there. Coming from a place like Kerala, the word hot chicks mean a lot to me. And I think I’m speaking for every other guy when I say that.
The bus started from Trivandrum, and was supposed to get here an hour ago. I was really sad to say goodbye to Abdul until I saw the girl sitting in seat 23, which was the one beside mine. I could say she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life, but that would be an understatement. She was wearing jeans and a pink T-shirt. And she looked really good in that. I started to believe in angels. There will be one sitting right beside me for this trip.
“Excuse me, Can I get in? “.
“Sure”.
She moved aside to let me in. A window seat and hot girl beside you. What more can you get? This was my day. I thought of starting off with a conversation, but then, that would seem too desperate. Let the bus move. That was the longest 4 minutes of my life. Man, time really moves slow at times.
“So, what are you doing in Bangalore? ”.
“I’m working at Infosys”.
“Cool, I’m working at Siemens”.
“Hey, that’s right beside our campus”.
“Great. By the way, I’m Kevin”.
“Hi Kevin, nice to meet you, I’m Nitika”.
What do you do when you really don’t know what to say next? Look out the window? Take out your phone and pretend to make a call? Read some messages? I went for the ‘make the call’ routine and called 123.
She had an iPod to her ears. Stupid Apple Inc. Why did they make the iPod- stupid conversation-killer machine? I started looking out the window. It is going to be a long day today.
I turned around looking here and there once in a while just to get a glimpse of her. It’s really hard to talk to hot girls. The words just dry up. And this one was way too much for me. An angel in a Volvo.
It was about 9.30 when we got our blankets. Time to sleep. She still had her iPod to her ears. I couldn’t sleep. So I sat there looking out the window for another hour or so. Then when I turned back, she was sound asleep. I could see her beautiful face so calm and serene. I can look at her all night long. It was the best Volvo journey ever in my life. Maybe it was the cold but I don’t know when I fell asleep. I was standing in a garden of lilies. And there she was, the girl of my dreams. She was running towards me with some flowers in her hand. She was more beautiful than before. She got hold of my hand, and was about to give me the flowers when I heard a horn beside me.
“What the?”, I mumbled. I checked the time. It was 5 in the morning. Some truck has honked its horn right beside my window. We’re almost there. Damn it. When did I doze off? I looked at the girl. She had the blanket over her head. Damn again. I started to sleep, hoping to see the rest of the dream.
“Hey pal, get up. We’re here”.
I woke up to see a horrible creature right beside me.
“Whoaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!”.
I screamed so loud all the other people on the bus were staring at me. Where did the beautiful girl go? And where did this girl-kinda-thing come from? I was beginning to come into my senses. How come this girl is wearing the same dress as the other one? And her voice sounds similar too. Was I dreaming about the hot girl? No way. She was real for sure. I couldn’t believe it. So angels are devils in disguise. I stood up, got my bag and started for the door, never looking back once. That horrible face got imprinted in my head, forever. That’s the day I learned one of the most important lessons in life, a lesson so horrific. It’s sad but true friends. There is a lot of makeup in this world.
cRusH
There was this girl in my college. I remember when I first saw her. That was the day I fell in love for the first time. She was sitting in the library reading a reader’s digest. To this day, I have absolutely no idea what I was doing there on that fine Wednesday morning.
I didn’t know this was love. How can I? I’ve never loved anyone before. But then again, I’ve never had such a feeling in my life. So this must be what being in love feels like. Aha! Now what could I do about it. I knew I couldn’t tell her how I feel. No way. What would she feel? How would she react? For Christ’s sake, she doesn’t even know me. Even though the real reason behind it was my lack of guts, I cannot admit it here. I couldn’t sleep for 3 days. She was all that was in my head. And the funny thing was that she had absolutely no idea about it.
I’ll call her Nisha. You can call her any other name you want to. She wasn’t very beautiful to my friends. But she had something in her that stole my heart away. She was too naïve. She was too simple. She was too different. She was too good for a guy like me.
We were in the same class for the last 4 years. We spent a lot of time together. She used to teach me before the exams. She used to write my assignments all the time. She used to give my attendance when I bunked classes. I always felt special when I was with her. But she never knew I loved her so much.
She gave me a watch on our farewell day. She always knew I loved watches. It was a titan fast-track. Red, my favorite colour. It must have cost her a fortune. She told me she’d miss me after we leave. She had no idea how I’d feel. I thought of letting her know my feelings for her. But then, what if she didn’t feel the same way? It would be awkward. What if it jeopardizes our friendship? I couldn’t live with that.
She’s getting married this month. She called me yesterday. I said I’d come. She sounded very happy. After all, she’s marrying a very successful guy. I think I’ll let my feelings for her die with me. After all, I’m too late now. I should get her something. Maybe a watch.
For all the people out there who got this far, I would like to say that this is not my story. Also, this is not a work of fiction. It’s your own. Almost all of us have had a crush on someone we’ve met someplace. And almost all of us have never let them know our feelings for them. This is how almost all our stories end. Maybe we’re missing out on something in our lives. But who knows, we’ve never tried further.
The author of this piece of work would like to stress on the fact once again that this is not his life story. For the record,
· The ‘I’ referenced in the above article has nothing to do with me.
· I have never been to the library.
· The girl has nothing to do with any girl getting married this month, or any other month for that matter.
· I don’t wear a watch. Especially a red one.
I didn’t know this was love. How can I? I’ve never loved anyone before. But then again, I’ve never had such a feeling in my life. So this must be what being in love feels like. Aha! Now what could I do about it. I knew I couldn’t tell her how I feel. No way. What would she feel? How would she react? For Christ’s sake, she doesn’t even know me. Even though the real reason behind it was my lack of guts, I cannot admit it here. I couldn’t sleep for 3 days. She was all that was in my head. And the funny thing was that she had absolutely no idea about it.
I’ll call her Nisha. You can call her any other name you want to. She wasn’t very beautiful to my friends. But she had something in her that stole my heart away. She was too naïve. She was too simple. She was too different. She was too good for a guy like me.
We were in the same class for the last 4 years. We spent a lot of time together. She used to teach me before the exams. She used to write my assignments all the time. She used to give my attendance when I bunked classes. I always felt special when I was with her. But she never knew I loved her so much.
She gave me a watch on our farewell day. She always knew I loved watches. It was a titan fast-track. Red, my favorite colour. It must have cost her a fortune. She told me she’d miss me after we leave. She had no idea how I’d feel. I thought of letting her know my feelings for her. But then, what if she didn’t feel the same way? It would be awkward. What if it jeopardizes our friendship? I couldn’t live with that.
She’s getting married this month. She called me yesterday. I said I’d come. She sounded very happy. After all, she’s marrying a very successful guy. I think I’ll let my feelings for her die with me. After all, I’m too late now. I should get her something. Maybe a watch.
For all the people out there who got this far, I would like to say that this is not my story. Also, this is not a work of fiction. It’s your own. Almost all of us have had a crush on someone we’ve met someplace. And almost all of us have never let them know our feelings for them. This is how almost all our stories end. Maybe we’re missing out on something in our lives. But who knows, we’ve never tried further.
The author of this piece of work would like to stress on the fact once again that this is not his life story. For the record,
· The ‘I’ referenced in the above article has nothing to do with me.
· I have never been to the library.
· The girl has nothing to do with any girl getting married this month, or any other month for that matter.
· I don’t wear a watch. Especially a red one.
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