the "blah" page!

Defy, Submit

2012-02-09T11:44:00.002+05:30

(This is something i wrote in the blog of Akanksha's new venture Art on the Wall. Do check their site out, if you want a dash of colour to your room)

I lay in the middle of my room. Four walls. All looking at me blankly. Isn’t it this wall that is shielding me away from all the eyes outside? Isn’t it this wall, that lends you a feel of homeliness? But why blank? Why not my expression? Why not my movement? Why not my love? Why not anything that will liven up the gray of life. Sometimes we are just too involved in a lot of things that we forget that there can be a lot done with the most minimalistic of things.

Walls can be an expression of defiance; it can also be an expression of submission. The most striking wall that comes into our mind is that of the Berlin wall – it defied as well as submitted in the times of requirement and not. The Great Wall of China rises above marvels that pop out of the oil rich Middle East, to be one of the very few man made architecture that can be seen from space. Thus the wall defied again. Defy, submit, make a statement.

Of The Year That Passed

2012-01-04T21:57:00.002+05:30

In the beginning of 2011, I was in a totally new place,among the tranquility of monks, the awkwardness of being a vegetarian and theacceptance (and later the getting back) of a story that wouldn’t work out. Iknow I am talking in codes and utter bullshit. But that was how 2011 startedfor me – in complete mystery. But from that mystery arose a year, that shallforever remain etched in my mind.

One of my major achievements that I conquered in theprevious year was coming to terms to being in love with Delhi. My post graduation here the past twoyears, couldn’t make me love Delhi,than the time I left for other places. I came running back as soon as I realizedit.

It is in 2011, that I became a post graduate, along withsome of the most awesomest friends I will ever make. And the greatest thing tohappen to your 20-odd classmates, is see them all be in really good positionsacross the country. I am proud to say that the batch I was with is wickedlytalented and I hope to see them achieve more than what they ever dreamed to.

Also in 2011, was when I got my first, second and third job.Well technically speaking, my third job is my first job. I was first offered ajob in Bangalore(my loathing for Bengaluru is quite out there in the open), with a clause thatcame into view only when I was in Mumbai. I didn’t take that up, after whichthey did one of the most childish thing that a real firm would never do – go complainto our institution director that I didn’t take up the job. Hilarious. Then I washome, rummaging through media websites and what not, sending resumes in thebulk to media and production houses alike. I got a call from a few, but in theend decided to go for one in Chennai – the Deccan Chronicle. And it was notgood. The only big city I was not able to cope with till now is Chennai. Iheaded there, with hopes of being closer to home and easier adjustments than inDelhi, but itwas just the opposite. The one week I worked for Chennai Chronicle, the tabloidpiece that goes alongwith the main newspapers, made me realize, this was notwhat I was cut out to do. I left the job within a week. I missed my Delhi. I reached Delhi, to find that myold roommate was still there, but I had to move out of his place (read here). But in the two weeks he put up with me I was back to doing what I haddone back at home in Calicut– send resumes by the dozen. But who would have known that it would be thesocial networking site of Twitter that would finally save my life. My friend Manoj re-tweeted Venkat Ananth’s tweet about an opening in Sports Illustrated India. When I contacted Venkat, he gave me a mail id where I could send aresume to. But the mail bounced back. But I didn’t back down. I searched thenet, found the correct email id and the rest as they say is history. I got in,after a grilling session by the most awesomest boss I have had till now –Kadambari ma’am. But it was not just Kadambari ma’am, the entire team at SI, isabsolutely fantastic. Each and every person is a character in themselves andthe past five months has been a revelation for me. Hope this doesn’t end soon.This to me is a dream team to work with.

In 2011, I travelled. A lot. Starting off with Bylakuppe inthe new year, I actually came back to the place during the end of the year. In betweenI was all around the place – Mumbai, Bangalore,Chennai, Mysore, Kochi,Kannur, Mahe, Calicutand so many more. It has just made me realize that this is the love that I’vebeen looking for. Traveling makes me happy. It brings to me the variety ofculture and stories, that I would never get sitting on a chair staring in frontof the computer. I hope 2012 has more to offer.

In 2011, I understood the true love actually triumphs. Itstarted off with the wedding of my brother and bhabhi. I still am to know theirlove story, because it obviously has to be a love story. Maybe in 2012, I will getto know. Then there was the surprise package of Faris and Lanisa, college sweethearts,who tied the knot in a ceremony that was attended by the most number of ourfriends. Another love story of 8 years, came to fulfilment at the end of theyear, making me understand that perseverance is the key to achievement. Congos to Nahlaand Wasseem for that. Even after years of defiance and rejection, they held onto each other, and finally the two families agreed. And then there is FathimaAli, one of my bestest buddies (who incidentally didn’t come to see off at thestation) got married this year to the most awesomest guy she could ever find(no Basri, I ain’t gay). And to those who have best friends who are about toget married – never piss the bride and groom off on their first night. But I hope 2012 brings more love stories tolife, and I wish this would be the year I could begin telling my kids 20 yearsdown the line, about ‘How I met their mother’ ;)

In 2011, I have realized that failures only makes onetougher. I’ve had my share of failures. But each failure has taught mesomething new, and a person who has never failed, has literally learned nothingat all.

I guess to sum up 2011, would be a difficult deal, but it was beautiful while it lasted. Here’sto wishing 2012 be much more than what 2011 ever was. Cheers and always keep smiling people!

The Conundrum

2011-12-03T21:18:00.001+05:30

"I think true happiness can only be found in the wanton indulgence of animals." - Hobbes

Why can't i just fall in love, without anyone raising eyebrows? Why all this societal norms regarding what your grandfather thinks, what your neighbour's uncle thinks and what your distant cousin, whose name you don't even know thinks? It's ridiculous how our society functions. And even with me ranting about all these absurdness, i can more or less guarantee that i myself will bow down to all these pressures.

How easy is it to fall in love? But how difficult is it to let everyone around you understand that you are actually in love and that it is the real deal? And even if they do understand, their so-called-society or religion can't accept it. We are all a slave to our surroundings. I wish i could go far away from all this. To a place where you needn't prove anyone anything. But seems like that will remain a distant dream, so long as you are attached to somebody or something.

Everyone has a purpose, and this purpose dissuades them from doing something that is simply a matter of the heart.

I'd like to go back to a time, when we were cavemen. No religion, no countries, no states - nothing to divide us than our animalistic tendencies and urges. But that won't happen unless and until we learn to time travel or a mass memory swipe of the world arises, and begin human life all over again. I will come back and look at this blog post in the future, to find myself nodding to all these realizations even then.

The status quo needs change. But at what cost? At the cost of one being an outcast and a radical.

The Nomad That Is Me - Part 5 [Final?] (The Story Of My Homes)

2011-11-09T17:06:00.001+05:30

This shall be the last of my post on The Story Of My Homes. A lot of people think that this is the one statement i have been waiting to make. But that is not how a series finale should end. It should be happy. It should end on a positive note. So I will try to hold onto my better senses and nottry to take it out on anyone, thereby making a statement in this series finale.So here goes:

I had to come to Delhi quite a few times, before I made surethat this is where I would be spending my post graduation days. First for theexam, then the interview and then for the actual settling down. And it allbegan in the summer of 2009. Trust me on this, Delhi in the summer is not aplace you would like to be. I really didn’t like Delhi the first time I camehere, basically because I had no friends here and I had to build my base fromscratch out here. The first time I came to Delhi was when I had to write theentrance exam for the much sought after Mass Communication and ConvergentJournalism courses at AJKMCRC in Jamia Millia Islamia. I stayed over at theInternational Youth Hostel in Chanakyapuri. Now that is one hell of a locality.Since it was smack in the middle of the diplomatic enclave, the streets wereclean, the lawns were manicured, the roads were wide – it was like living in aforeign locale altogether. But then that wasn’t home. I stayed there onceagain, when I had to come down for the interview for my admission forConvergent Journalism (yes, I didn’t get through Mass Comm.) So it was decideda week later that I would be one of the lucky 20 odd people who would be partof the 2009 batch of Convergent Journalism kids at AJKMCRC. So now I was sure Iwould be spending the next two years of my life in Delhi. And that is when Istarted seeing Delhi, in reality. The first two trips were just glimpses ofDelhi.

My mom always gets paranoid when sending her sons awayanywhere. Even after me telling her that I would not require anyone’s help togo to Delhi or get me admitted to the institution, she called up my cousin whohad come down from Dubai to accompany me till Delhi. And accompany me he did.We started off from Kochi, took an accommodation at the Pondicherry (nowPuducherry) house, on the recommendation of a local politician, who was also arelative (one time, when politics does come to good use.) We went and did theformalities at the institute. And within three days had traversed wherever theDelhi metro could take us to. The first impression you have of Delhi is – it isa mega city! I mean the expanse of the city is so much, that it is difficultfor a small town boy like me to actually fathom living here. It is scary. But Isurvived, and here I am writing the city’s story from the city itself. On thefourth day of my stay at Pondicherry house, an army jeep came for me from the 5Signal Corp at Dhaula Kuan. My first home was to be in an army cantonment, dueto a kind friend of my Uncle, Lieutenant Colonel Vinod. The Signal 5 Corp isthe communication backbone of the Indian army and Lt. Cl. Vinod was an engineerthere. It was a brilliant stay. There were small villa sort of things inside thegigantic gate that led us into the camp. And Mr. Vinod had a large room due tothe post he had. There were trees all around the camp, small cobblestone pathsthat lead to different centres, canteens and houses. It was quite boring livingthere, since I had nothing to do out there, except read, was my clothes, havefood served to you thrice a day. Mr. Vinod had personal assistants who wouldcater to his every need, right from polishing his shoes to serving him beer atnight. It was the laziest I ever felt, while staying there. I didn’t have to doanything at all. So for almost a month I was holed up in there. But then Irealized it was time to move out. The first couple of days I headed to collegewhich was at Jamia Nagar from Dhaula Kuan, which i considered quite adistance to cover (it was barely 10 kms) (little did I know that it was not that great considering peopletravel hundreds of kilometers everyday to work and study in Delhi.) But then I madefriends in my new classroom. I still remember, the first friend or human soul Iintroduced myself to in MCRC was Akanksha. Both of us had come in late, and wewere frantically searching for our classrooms. But then it was in theauditorium that the inauguration was taking place in. So we headed out. And the convergent journalism part of my life began, starting that day.

After a few days, lot of us became friends, and it wasSaiam, who offered to share his room with me. If it wasn’t for Saiam I wouldnever have headed out from the Army Cantt. So one fine morning I left with all my baggage (which was quite a lot) to Batla House in the army jeep. Now to explain Batla House,you don’t need much. Just imagine a 2000 sq. foot place. Now imagine a millionpeople in it. That is Batla House for you. Placed on the banks of the riverYamuna, Batla House is a predominantly Muslim locality and has thefeeling of the rush that you get in a Purani Dilli (Old Delhi) or any old city for thatmatter. The first room I shared, was a very modest one, with a shared bathroom,at Nafees Road, with water to bath and make ablutions on a constant threat ofbeing depleted by the hundreds of others living in the same building. I stilldon’t know how I survived there, but I had begun to live. The best thing aboutliving in Batla House was that you could get some awesome food, straight fromthe chicken achari to kebabs to biriyani to rabri faluda and what not. So food wasnot a major problem here. But I barely stayed with Saiam for a month. I thenshifted in with Neyaz, another classmate of mine, who surprisingly has beenstaying in Delhi for the past 10 years. He has his own place. A modest buildingin between a lane of like a thousands of them. His place is the only place thathas does not go beyond the ground floor. The rest of the building around him have built floorsafter floors, making his house feel like a David among Goliaths. His place wasfilthy dirty the time I got there, but over time, I started shifting stuff out,made some changes here and there, the dim fluorescent bulb shone brighter andthe place breathed a bit more. And it was nice and cozy, since we had alwayssomebody over. And in between, Furquan, another friend of ours also moved in.So there, we were, three bachelors in a 'Delhi Belly'-ish set up. And that waswhat it was for almost around the end of December 2009. And Delhi winters – woah! Itell you this is a city of extremes.

At the same time, Furquan and me were contemplating movingout of Neyaz’s place, because we wanted to give Neyaz his privacy and we werepaying like very little for the stay he offered us. So then, we teamed up withtwo other friends – Samir, the eccentric and Alex, the Frenchman and went in searchof apartments. And it was Samir who found us one - in Sarai Jullena, which was close to New Friends Colony. And it was to the east of Batla House (the further, the better.) That three-bedroom apartmentwould be the starting point of my life in Delhi. We had proper rooms toourselves, a huge kitchen, good washroom, separate toilet – it was beautiful.Furquan and me shared a room, while Samir and Alex had a room of their own.Samir took the balcony room, while we had the corner right one. We verysparingly furnished our place, with two cots and carpet, which we bought from Batlahouse. It was in this very apartment, where i would say i found my first home in Delhi. And it was brilliant. It was in this very apartment, from where we received a weird bird as a house warming present (that actually dissappeared mysteriously after a couple of days), relationships began, good food was cooked, parties held, wi-fi's shared, where the fan worked only in our room, and so much more. This first floor apartment will forever remain a fond memory of my time in Delhi. But alas, all good things must come to an end. Our first year of college was coming to an end, and Alexandre was heading back to Paris. We could no longer afford the apartment. Since it was the vacations we didn't need a place to stay for almost two months, but we still had our stuff. Before Alex left, he gave away whatever stuff he had with him. Me and Furquan got the sofa, the toaster and a few things here and there.

So me and Furquan started roaming the length and breadth of Jamia Nagar looking for a decent room to keep our stuff in. After almost a week's search we found a relatively nice room in a not so relatively clean locality of Batla House. It was the topmost room, alongside ample tiled terrace. The only thing that was bothersome was the water and the paan stained toilet (thankfully we didn't have to sit on them, it was the Indian-squat type.) And it was on the fourth floor. So we somehow mustered up all the muscles that were not visible at first to take up all our stuff to the penthouse (yeah, it was a penthouse) and left Delhi for our respective homes for the summer vacations.

It was only after we came back in July, that we realized that the home that we took, was not quite the ideal home. It turned filthy dirty by the time we got back. We could not also keep it clean for an entire day, coz the dust settled quite easily and quickly inside the room every time we opened the window. So it was back to house searching once again. The only plus of living in Batla House as i said earlier, is the availability of some real good non veg food (especially the ones from Munis Kada and the small dhaba sort of shops that sold kebaabs.) But we could not stay there for long. While on our quest once again, through the gullies of Sarai Jullena, we ran into our old landlord. We were kinda scared asking him for a room, because we thought we had left the last place in not such a great state, what with all the bottles in the kitchen and stuff. But somehow i mustered up the courage and asked him - "Remember us?". His reply was quite friendly - "How can i not?". But not in the sarcastic tone. So by the time we finished talking with him, our newest home was found.

It was a single room in a newly built floor of an old building. It was picture perfect. It had large windows, nice ventilation, ample light, built in kitchenette, built in cupboard and enough for space for two people as tall as myself and Fruquan to adjust in. And it was quite cheap too. We didn't think twice. We got the room -- on the fourth floor, and this time it was worth it. The tough task of getting all our stuff from the fourth floor of one building to the fourth floor of another was the only tough task that we had. We bought ourselves a carpet to go in the centre of the room, while i bought a bed and a table. It was all nice. One of the nicest homes i've lived in. And i take this opportunity to tell you that Furquan is the best roommate that i have ever lived with. There was an unsaid dealing that both of us could get, for as long as we stayed at room no 708 in building no. 58. I used to cut the veggies, while he used to cook. I used to have the net connected to my computer, while he used the wi-fi. There was equality, there was fun, there was brotherhood, there was a looking out for one another. Room no. 708 will forever remain my favorite home in Delhi.

But once again, good things came to an end. And it came in the form of my well planned stupidity. I got myself a job in Bangalore. I said my goodbyes. I had friends over, we had a crazy last day together at room 708. I made up my mind. I was to leave Delhi. But its true that you only know what you miss, when you are no longer around them. But i had made up my mind. I decided to take a small, deserved break before heading home, and headed to Mumbai. It was from here, that i get to know that the job in Bangalore had a catch (through a phone call from the company), which i didn't like one bit. I didn't even go to Bangalore. After some soul searching (read - rummaging on the internet for like hours), i got a job in Chennai. In a newspaper's tabloid edition. But i didn't feel like the zing there. And plus, i had no clue about who's who in the Tamil celebrity list, which was an essential part of the job i was part and so I decided i had to head back. I had a lot of unfinished business in Delhi. I missed Delhi. (which could also be a metaphor for the life that I've lived for the past two years.)

So after a hiatus of around two months, i was back to Delhi, back to room no. 708, but little did i know i would have to get out of there before i could say -"Look who's back!" Turned out that Furquan had invited his old roommate to stay with him, considering the fact that i had said i was not gonna be back. I was a little late in letting him know. How late? A week. If i had told him a week earlier, i could have still stayed with him. But Furquan is a man with a heart. He allowed me to stay at his place. And it was in room 708, that i sat for almost two weeks, without a job, without hope and without a darn clue about my future. But it was also here, that i found my calling, my job and my life back once more - when i got a job with Sports Illustrated India. I tried to reason with Furquan regarding staying along with him, but then he had already promised his friend. I felt it better not to tamper with other people's promises. So a fruitful year and a half relationship with the best roommate i ever had came to an end, with me finding a new place, a new roommate (my junior from college - Ratnendra) and a new future.

Well, it was this very departure from the room that i loved so much, that prompted me to start off with this series about my homes in the first place.

The new room was more like a hotel room, and it used to be where our friend Samir used to live before he headed out for greener pasture. First thing you would notice in the new place, which to reach you had to go through a narrow gulley and then walk just two flights of stairs - there is no ventilation whatsoever! And my new roommate couldn't stand the heat. He wanted an AC. We got an AC on rent. The place was infested with cockroaches. Water would basically start to trickle after 10 in the night. I hated the new place. And after a fruitful roommate relationship, i was not able to warm upto the idea of a new roommate, because the old give-take relationship was not working out (I hope Ratnendra does not kill me, after reading this), but i am one who always likes to give it a shot. So it was a long three months that i stayed up at the non-ventilated room, while i was frantically searching around for a new place. My old roommate did fuck me up once during these three months, when he shifted to a new place, while i could have taken up his room. Unfortunately, he didn't inform me, and somebody else took the room. But he made it up to me. He informed me of the room his landlord's brother had, and that is now my home.

On 22nd of October, while all my friends were wishing me happy birthday through phone calls, facebook message, mails, e-cards and sms-es, i was getting my own place for the very first time -- on the fifth floor. I have a window in my room. Nice kitchen, nice bathroom (i always make it a point that the plumbing is good wherever i go, i don't want another paan stained toilet ever again my entire life) and to top it all i could breathe. Finally. And while i write this, i am settled down with my bed, table, sofa and fridge (courtsey Mizaj), my ever growing collection of books, magazines, my laptop, my net connection and an end to my nomadness (is that even a word?) at room no. 14. And there is a sense of feeling that i have finally found a home -- for now that is. I hope it will be long before i bore you. Peace.

Living Your Story

2011-09-29T01:03:00.000+05:30

Last night i was speaking to my friend about my life in general. In between our conversation, she stops me and tells me, "You look like a cute and excited little owl". Well i guess she made the comment about me being an owl, because i have really big round eyes (and basically weird owl-like hair o_O), and excited because i literally do get while telling my stories (as is evident in me ranting about useless stuff on my blog.) So after listening to my spate or run offs and butt ins and what not, my friend tells me - your story pretty much seems like a very fictional non fiction. I was like stumped - 'fictional non fiction?' Now what the hell could that mean.

It turns out most of our lives is what seems to be like a pre-destined script that goes on with its decisive pauses, dramatic entrances, sad exits, crazy times, unbelievable experiences and unexpected twists and turns. If we look back at our lives, we would be amazed at how it came into being. From the moment you cried as you gasped for your first breath, to the time you gasped for breath when your dad taught you to swim, to shifting from one location to another with the promise of a new start and everything in between and after - its all very fascinating to look at it after all these years. When i look back at my life, i'm glad that i got to see all the stuff i saw, feel all i felt, understand all i understood and then still keep a lookout for more.

One of my friends lamented about life coming back to square one time and again. But i believe that is the magic of life. It gives you chances. It gives you mistakes to learn. It gives you opportunities to utilize, fail and succeed. All that matters is which script you choose on the way. There might be certain detours or roadblocks on the way, but that doesn't mean you should stop halfway through. You battle ahead, and when you look back at all those moments, you will have a ball of time telling stories, like i did today. Who knows, in the future, you might find your friend telling you, "You know what, you look like an excited cute little gerbil". Until you do, keep living, keep your script in action.

The Nomad That Is Me - Part 4.5 (The Story Of My Homes)

2011-09-27T16:14:00.001+05:30

I really want to put an end to these disastrous sequels, but if Spielberg could come back after 20 years to make a sequel to Indiana Jones, then so can I. (p.s. – The fourth sequel finally made it to the top ten list, albeit with fewer readers that is) And while at it, make something radically different like inserting a .5 between four and five. So here I am to talk of homes, that were home to me more than home itself.

During my second stint at Calicut, i made my first genuine friend, who still remains to me one of my closest buddies - Ajmal (or in short Aju.) Aju’s family considered and still considers me as one of their own. This was proven by the fact, that this year when I called to wish them for Eid, Aju’s mom very nostalgically reminded me that, every Eid I would be the first person to wish Aju at his place. I was touched. So yeah, during the time of my adjustment to the new life of Calicut, my new school mates, my new teacher, my new friends, Aju and his family really made me feel at home. I still remember, before I returned back to Calicut, the last movie I had seen in a theatre was Titanic with my family in Muscat. Its true, I had not seen a movie in the movie theatre after the 1997 blockbuster. And then in 2002, I remember Aju getting all excited calling me over to his place. We were going for a movie with his Dad. He used to be the asst. commissioner of sales tax in Calicut at that time. I still remember sitting in that red Indica, visibly excited to go for my first movie theatre experience in Calicut. The movie – I Spy. Yeah, I know it was a crappy movie to go for. But I still have the movie tickets with me, in one of my personal diaries back home. And I shall keep it.

Aju’s family was pretty much like ours – 3 brothers and his parents. In addition to that, there is his grandmother, who is like the most jovial Grandma i ever know. Once, Aju had invited me and our friends over for dinner, and it was his grandmother who was there on the front to greet us. As soon as we entered the gates, his Grandmom bellowed – “Come in, come in. Your comrades are awaiting you.” We were literally blown away. Here was an old lady speaking us to in English (you should understand that we were in Calicut, and none of our Grandmas knew English.) It turns out; she was once the headmistress of a school. Nowadays with old age, her energy is not what it used to be. But she still recognizes me, although I have to tell her who I am when I come into the house. And then there is Kadistha and her two sons, one of who is deaf and dumb. Very nice people, the whole lot. Miss all of them.

It is also from Aju’s place that I got into watching U.S. TV sitcoms, starting with Friends, Scrubs and more over the years (literally picking up on one show after the other.) I have only one person to thank for introducing me to the joy that is pop culture – Suhail Rehman. Today this very man is marrying a close friend of mine – Mizaj Mammu. But that again is another story, for another blog (and hopefully not a sequel post.) On top of that, Aju and Suhail introduced me to hardcore gaming, allowing me to watch and play (some) of the dozens of games that was popular in the 2000’s. That is how I got hooked onto one of my favourite games – Mafia. And then there were the racing games, which was pretty much the only game I could beat Aju in.

Aju’s home is the place where I would run to everytime I used to get a chance. Lunch, dinner, sleepovers, movies, celebrations – Aju’s home was, is and will always be a part of the homes I can never forget.

After Aju left for Thrissur, I got to visit his place, only when he came down for holidays and vacations. That was when I got close to my own place, I guess. And then came graduation. Along with graduation came friends, new ones, good ones. And one home that stays out during this time, and still does is – Mekha. Mekha is the name of the house I spent most of my graduation days, and is also the name of one of my closest friend, Mukta’s Mom’s name. It is basically where I grew threw my troubled phases. The amount of fights, celebrations, happiness and sadness I went through at Mekha’s is like infinite. I remember the first time I had gone over to Mekha’s. I had taken my then new bike, Passion Plus, and gone to drop off Mukta, since we had gotten out of college late. I met with her Mom, her uncle and his wife. I still remember the drawing room was dimly lit with a light bulb (its changed today, with a CFL bulb doing the job now.) But from that day on, Mekha was as much a home to me as it was to Mukta, her bro Mritul or even her parents. It was also home to my favourite Grandmom - Chandra. Sadly it was also where she breathed her last. Sad, but never forgotten she is the soul of our heart.

I also remember Mekha for the time I had there with Nawab, another of my best friend, from Afghanistan, when we used to get together to study. Mekha aunty (I never called her by that name, even today. Although I do try) used to make us dosas in the morning, and all of us would sit around the kitchen waiting for our turn. Even today, when I go back, that is one thing I don’t miss on my itinerary. Sitting on the doorstep, eating dosa with chutney and sambhar and chit-chat with Mekha aunty – priceless.

There were charts made, movies and TV shows watched, there were fights, there was watching the Oscars, the IPL, football and what not. I was also in awe of the number of plants in the courtyard, that i actually took a few of them and went and planted them at my place. they are growing just fine. So i could say i have a little bit of Mekha in Falaq. Mekha shall forever remain etched in my life as being my home away from home.

Sadly I do not have neither home’s picture. But I believe I do not need one. Its painted in my mind for eternity.

Until next time for the final piece on my nomadic life, ciao.

A Blogger's Observation

2011-09-25T11:44:00.002+05:30

I think sequels don't work. I was trying out the new interface of Blogspot (which is super awesome to say the least), and found the stats page as available on Wordpress. When i checked on which was my most read post i found that my blog post - The Nomad That Is Me - Part 1 (The Story Of My Homes), had the most hits, while the subsequent posts on the same, saw far fewer readers. It was like comparing my posts to the norms of Hollywood - the first is always good, the sequels - eh. What was more disturbing was to find out any similar post, which goes beyond 2 sequels tend to bomb badly (sadly The Nomad That Is Me - Part 4 (The Story Of My Homes) was my worst sequel ever considering it never even made it to the top ten list.) So what have we learned here?

Stick to originals.
If you plan to do sequels, don't go beyond two.
If you think this post will increase hits to my earlier blog posts - tough luck.
Don't go pop culturing yourself.

The Cellar

2011-09-25T00:59:00.000+05:30

"There's someone out there,"

Says the child

In that dark,

Dirty, cramped place.

All’s over,

And you hear nothing.

For it’s all over.

Down in a cellar,

You remain as dust.

As if to be called,

To be cleaned up again.

I proceed forward,

Up the stairs,

We came down through.

And lifted the weight,

That shut as down.

Slowly,

It turns out,

Everything’s all right.

I cry out,

Even thought the voice,

Isn’t clear,

“Praise be to God,

We are in heaven!”

Let There Be Light

2011-09-06T14:57:00.004+05:30

(A collaboration with my good friend Aishwarya Nair. She interspersed my earlier poem, with a positivism that only she could muster. The words in italics are mine, the other hers.)

The leaves of memory seemed to make

A mournful rustling in the dark...

i wish the sun came out at night

of the darkness that frightens me

would creep away ashamed and silent

The barren branches and the boughs

stark reminders of the wind that blows...

the solitude that once was a blessing

is now a haunting...

i wish everyday was different

my melancholy would end

in the abrupt moment of time

for what solace lies in monotony

the end in sight as definite as it can be...

for once the light breaches the cloud...

and forever shall darkness secede...

i wish everyone was different

all the people i've known until

had just love in their hearts

try as you might..

the shards of time will pierce

the glorious day when disappears

into the sunset mists....

i wish the sea was calm

the troubles it cause,

the miseries and woes end it all

and the ripples fade into naught

the tide sweep away all thought

leave behind a single pearl of love

in abundance it shall be brought.....

The Nomad That Is Me - Part 4 (The Story Of My Homes)

2011-09-02T16:02:00.011+05:30

'Al Fajer' in the 90's

After coming back to India in 2001, we stayed over at the ancestral place – Al Fajer (which translates to dawn in Arabic) for almost 2 years, before finding our own place – “Falaq” (which roughly translates to ‘daybreak’ in Arabic.) Life began for me here (or rather I had my ‘break’ right here at this humble abode.)

The green one storey building is the home I always head back to whenever I feel homesick, when I feel like visiting my loved ones, when I feel like getting the warmth of my own bed, the green godrej cupboard and table – it’s a feeling I cannot put into words. Just a few minutes away from where we used to stay earlier, ‘Falaq’ is not the average palatial houses that gulf returnees are expected to build. It’s a modest 4 bedroom home built on just around 4.5 cents of land (that’s close to around just 2000 sq. ft.) It was bought close to late 2002 (yes, we bought a house, instead of building it from scratch.) We had sparingly any furniture, household items, not even a TV. But we at least had a roof over our heads. And we were blessed in that way.

And the transformation was magical. I was in my ninth grade, when we moved into the house. And I had joined MESRRS, Pavangad, my final school in my journey of school life a year back. But it was in ninth grade that I actually hit paydirt. I got to the other side of me – the writing guy. And did I not roll or what? I started getting into competitions – essay writing, versification, extempore, Quran recitation – what not. Moreover, I participated in even Hindi competitions (although most of my current bunch of friends find my Hindi weird and very South-Indian-ish. I tell them, hellew – what do you expect? I am from South India, Kerala to be precise.) So yeah getting back to the prime of my school days, I started making some awesome friends during my time at Falaq. One of the closest has to be Ajmal, who was like an extended family to me. I used to be more at his place than mine. Mainly because he had some awesome games and really cool cousins. I remember the time when he came over to my ancestral place and was stuck there for the night due to thunderstorms. Ajmal and me remain brothers till this day. Then, there is Vaisakh - my partner in crime and vice versa, the vice versa more so. We've had between us more than with any other friend i ever had. From his TVS Victor riding days to the Pulsar 200 days. And then there are countless others, if i were to begin here, it wouldn't end. But if it weren't for all of them, i'd not be the person i am today.

'Falaq' in the 2000's (wish i had a more fuller pic)

I remember the time when it was the tenth boards, and I had all the important charts from biology, physics, chemistry and even maths adorning the two walls of my rooms (the other two had windows on them.) I used to get up every morning, and the images of cytoplasm and mathematical equations got imprinted in my head. That was the reason why I guess, I did good for my tenth boards. I remember Mom insisting on getting a showcase in the hall in front of the dining table, because we always had a showcase when we were in Muscat. And it was built. But there wasn’t much to display. I am proud to say that, today the showcase is filled with trophies, medals and more showpieces than Mom ever imagined. Each of us in our family take pride on each and every piece in that showcase today.

We slowly started improving on the insides of our home, bit by bit, time by time. We got ourselves a TV after my tenth boards. Then we made the staircase railing wooden, we put up nice clay tiles in front of the house, Mom and me planted plants, trees, shrubs, we closed the old well and dug a new one, we built a bookshelf, we put tiles on the roof and we even bought a bigger water tank (which I still do clean when I am there. It is fun, you should try cleaning your tank at times) and I also remember the time when we got down the furniture from Muscat in a huge two piece container that my Dad sent through cargo. I remember, Dad and me going till the Kochi port to get the stuff. It was a pain in the ass to get clearance from authorities, but surprisingly, all matters were cleared by the evening, and we got ourselves a mini lorry and drove all the way up to Calicut from Kochi. We had an amazing time, going through the different districts, with Dad intermittently telling me stories about when he was young and how he actually got to Muscat. It was the second best Father-Son time I’ve ever had with Dad (the best happened very recently.) We reached home by late night, got down all the stuff, and put it in. Subsequently we got two single beds, we got the sofa set and loads more. The home that was, and the home after furnishing was fuller than ever before. It actually felt warmer.

After my plus two, in 2006, I had gone to Dubai for vacations with my Uncles and their families. To tell you the truth, it was the worst vacation of my life. Nothing can be as worse as those two months in Dubai. Maybe because I had to live with people, with whom I never before lived more than a couple of days together before. Or maybe because my Grandmother was getting on my nerves. Whatever it was, it happened, and one can’t do anything about it. There was one good thing to come out of that trip. My Mom’s brothers got me a computer, or basically all the parts of the computer when I left from Dubai. And Falaq was the place I bought it all to. It was very exciting for me, because this was actually my first real modern day computer. The last computer I owned ran only Windows 3.1 and Basic. So this was a big deal for me. And the best thing was, I called upon my chums, Vivek and Vaisakh to get it all together. We actually built the PC from motherboard to the last screw on the CPU. If you think that is easy, just try assembling a PC for yourself. We did a pretty good job at that. That computer survived for more than six years, until it was replaced with a better model just last year. I was a tad disappointed at first, coz it was just an average machine. Nothing powerful or anything. But something is better than nothing, right? So I remained loyal to my PC, and loved it like anything.

The legend

College was a whole new level of experience for me. Although I followed in the footstep of my brother, I believed to set an example of mine. Whether I did or not, I do not mind. But if I am still known as Danish’s brother, that is what matters to me. And till date, they know me as Danish’s brother, although they do know my name as well. If my brother went to college, they would ask him about me. If I went to college, they would ask me about him. That is the bond me and my brother share. There all the time, for one another. Even though I was the hot headed and black sheep of the family, my brother stood by me through thick and thin. I think this home did play a good part in that. College bought along new friends, new memories, fights, laughs, victories, embarrassments, and one of the best loves of my life – the Hero Honda Passion Plus. Alas the beauty stayed with me for just around four years. But in those four years, boy did we have fun – road trips: planned and unplanned, taxi service, late night pick-ups and so many more fun memories. That was the first vehicle of ours that stood on the tiled front porch of our home. You shall forever be missed - KL 11 Y 4658.

My relegated new room at 'Falaq'

In 2009, I moved to Delhi to pursue my Masters. It was difficult saying goodbye to Mom, to Brothers, to Friends, to Passion, to Home. But it was time. I had stayed in the nest for too long. And when I was away, Mom redecorated the room I used for more than half a decade, for my brother and his bride. I was more than happy. I was ecstatic. My stuff was moved into the small room on the side, with the ever expanding library. My bed, the godrej table and the shelf left no room at all to walk around. But I liked it. More so because it was just perfect to leave my room, as I last left it, waiting for me to get back to it. I lived in more houses than one in Delhi (which should most probably be my finale in this series. For now.), but nothing could ever make up for what ‘Falaq’ meant to me. This is the home where my friends came down to. This is the home where Ismail pulled down my pants. This is the home where a reunion meant orange food fight. This is the home where we got holed up in the worst New Year’s Eve ever. This is the home from where i sneaked out umpteen number of times. This is the home where countless parties took place. This is the home where we fell sick. This is the home where we all laughed. This is the home where my brother bought his new wife to. This is the home, that shall remain etched in my mind, as my home of homes.

The Nomad That Is Me - Part 3 (The Story Of My Homes)

2011-08-09T12:58:00.004+05:30

The summer sun in Muscat is quite stupendous. As soon as you get out of the creaky Indian Airlines flight, you feel the heat hit on you like a fresh waft of plain sunny-ness. In the summer of 2000 I returned to Muscat. Dad was running his own business, albeit a small one. I remember two years back dad had a huge Volvo sedan (I think it was the 850 or 900 model.) But things change and Dad had shifted to a more modest car – the Nissan Primera. We were heading back to dear old Al-Fayha complex. The same fourth floor. The same second last door on the left. But not for long. It was just a temporary stopover for us.

Ruwi at night, the Sultan Qaboos Mosque in view (Photo courtsey: Sudheer S)

We were moved towards an apartment in the more crowded-industrialized area of Baladiyah street, close to Ruwi. It was a fresh start, and there were loads of things to do. For starters, me and dad took up charge of cleaning the whole place up from scratch. We began with the kitchen, since Mom needed it ASAP. And it was quite difficult cleaning the place up. It was filthy dirty the first time we saw it. A lot of pest faeces, darkened corners, and dusty cupboards – all washed clean and disinfected. And then there was the carpeting, starting with the drawing room. There were two bedrooms. The master bedroom had a huge bathroom (which my Mom didn’t like at all – because it is difficult to clean such a large space – she cursed that bathroom for as long as we stayed there.) I kinda liked the enormousness of the bathroom (kinda made me feel like a king.) Then there was the laying of the tiles for the corridor, that Dad got from his new wood workshop. And it was totally my masterpiece; I laid all the tiles across the 15 foot by 4 foot corridor. Still very proud of it.

The neighbourhood was not that great. There were too many metal workshops and what not out there. It was not the ideal residential place. And maybe one of the reasons that I didn’t even have any pictures of the place. After long, we resumed going to school by bus, which was again quite boring. I don’t exactly remember who used to stay next to me there (I think it was Clayton or somebody.) But there are some beautiful memories of the time when I was staying there, although outside of our home. I used to go to the Al Safoor plaza (was it?)(it was on the Bayt Al Falaj street, that’s for sure), where Nikhil used to stay. He was a big fan of basketball, and me new to the sport. But I guess I did try my best to gather what I could do about the sports and used to play it along with him out there. Then there were the carom board sessions with the masters of the flick and fingers – some of the most awesome-st carom moves I have ever seen – and they were the local factory workers and the watchmen who used to amaze me with their skills. Nikhil too was really good at it. But I really did have good times out there.

But then it was another trip that I enjoyed quite much. Jonathan and I used to head out to Qurum with his Dad in the evenings on weekends. And we used to roam about the handful of malls that dotted the Qurum commercial centre. John’s Dad used to be at the SABCO centre, while ma Dad at the Wadi Commercial Centre. Our hang out place usually used to be at the electronics store on the ground floor. The Playstation (yes the first series) had just come out, and we had a chance to play it. But it came with a catch. We had to play Who Wants To Be A Millionaire (yes the PS game), and get to at least the fifth question to play one of the any games available with them. Since John liked quizzes, he got to play that, while I got to play the games part. It was a win-win situation. The weekends were real fun, and I also remember heading to John’s place to work on our computer project for the exhibition. John’s a genius I tell you. While in our eighth grade, he bought a Bible of sorts on the software Flash, and read the entire manuscript, and made his own animation for the start of our crude quizzing game (made on Microsoft Powerpoint!) So there I was working on the computer, even though the latest I had till the end of 2001 was a Window 3.1. Whatever I know about computers, is all thanks to Jonathan Prakash Kotker. Great guy. Great time. Great memories.

Tragedy struck us toward the end of August. Dad got involved in one of the worst car crashes. If you saw the sight of the Ssangyong Musso he was travelling in, you would be amazed to know that all three travelling in it survived. Dad was the most affected. We had to take him back home for rehabilitation. He was very badly injured and there were just too many stitches all around. So back to Kerala we headed. It was a sad end to a new start.

The usual lush greenery of Kerala greeted us once again. Dad spent a lot of time with the Ayurvedic doctors, and he made good progress. And we were staying at our Grandparents place. Again. But there was an eminent move on the way. But that is for another blog post. Another day.

The Nomad That Is Me - Part 2 (The Story Of My Homes)

2011-07-26T13:19:00.004+05:30

Calicut beach (digitally altered photograph)

Kozhikkode (a.k.a Calicut) has this magical feel to it. Lush greenery as you come down the table top airport, the smell of rain in the air, the signs all around – even on buses – written in Malayalam – it is quite literally – another world in itself. And that was exactly what I thought, when I came down to live there for the first time. I had left behind some of my best friends back in Muscat, and it was horrible for me.

We stayed at our ancestral place (you could not call it ancestral per say, since the house of my grandparents (mom’s side) was built in the 1970’s.) Our family is originally from Mahe, the erstwhile French colony (a lot of the Frenchness can still be seen around, and this Mahe is on the Kerala side, not Tamil Nadu.) My Grandad moved to Calicut to start his own business – Mahe Tea Mart (wholesale and retail sales of tea, coffee and later even milk powder.) The ancestral place was huge. There were around 5 rooms and as many families to fill it up (the need for a nuclear family was not even in the heads of anyone till then, and everyone felt comfortable living with each other as a joint family, almost.) But my mom thought if we too moved into the same house, then it would get a tad overcrowded. So we decided to head out and shift into an apartment close to the ancestral home itself. Thus came my third home – Shikha Apartments.

It was just barely 50 metres away, and it was a normal sized building with around four apartments in them. We took the one on the right hand corner on the ground floor. This time around, Dad was not there (he was still in Muscat, making ends meet.) So it was just Mom, brothers and myself at the new 2 bedroom apartment. I don’t think I have too many memories of this place, but I can muster up some enjoyable moments I had outside of it.

It was while at this home that I was able to cultivate the passion of cricket in me. Every weekend I used to go to the nearby ground in Jawahar Nagar Colony, where the neighbourhood boys (most of who studied with me at the Madrassa) would get together to play some of the most engrossing games of cricket (or any other sports for that matter) I have ever played. We also used to have cross-neighbourhood, wherein we would be challenged by the chaps from the Nadakkavu junction (the neighbouring locality.) The bet used to be for a meager amount of 10 or five rupees. But there used to be a lot of tension since it was the case of upholding our pride. I used to be sent in as a pinch hitter, and I was good with that (I guess) – a couple of sixes here, a couple of fours there, and then get yourself out. And yes, I used to be on the boundary line always – good fielder you see. The Nadakkavu boys used to hit hard, and I used to be there to catch hold of any ball that came my way.

Shikha Apartments is also the place where I got my first bike – a Hero Devil. It was awesome – since I never had a bike of my own. Ever. And it was my pride. I used to take it out to go and play. I remember my elder bro had an accident with the new cycle just weeks after buying it. And surprisingly I had remained cool about it. It was my brother after all, and it was a cycle, not his bones (but yeah, he did lose one tooth.) Oh and I remember me throwing down my brothers bag on the floor thinking that he had replaced my bag from the chair. I was a very disturbed kid, who’d have his tantrums every now and then. I must have been beaten up by every other uncle and aunt I know.

School was another thing that I didn't enjoy much. After getting the adoration and admiration of the teachers in Muscat, how could I start building my reputation from scratch? I used to go to the Hill Top Public School (yes, as the name suggests it was on a hill-top). We used to go in Amba Travels, a trusted old tempo van that used to pass through the lane in front of us. Again, not much great memories with that van, since most of ma friends used to go in another – ultra super cool van – whose driver was kick-ass. Our tempo van consisted of most of the snobby kids, so it was not that great. But then again the travel was quite beautiful. We used to take the same path everyday, through our lane, in through Kottaram road to the magnificent Azhakodi Temple road and then out through Arayadathupalam to the congested Puthiyara junction and the beautiful winding road up to the top of our school (which was incidentally surrounded by huge chimney’s of large tile and brick factories that you could (and can still) see dotted around that place.) The winding path was made up of red bricks from the very factory. I should say this – it is one of the most picturesque schools I have ever been to. Life was pretty normal. Nothing major out here.

But getting back to my home, as I said earlier – not much to talk about, not much to cherish (we didn’t even have a TV out there, but yes we had an aquarium.) I have more memories of my ancestral homes in Mahe and Calicut, during the time we used to come for vacations from Muscat than of the two years I spent here. Yes, we shifted after two years, back to where I belong, back to old friends, memories, but old home? Well for that you have to wait for the next one. So it is adieu to an almost memory-less Calicut for now.

The Nomad That Is Me - Part 1 (The Story Of My Homes)

2011-07-21T17:01:00.015+05:30

Its true when people say that this generation is not going to have a hometown to support or be passionate about or even boast about. We have become nomads. With very few people sticking to their roots, people are travelling anywhere and everywhere their jobs take them. I am no exception, but with the case of job being my reason, is only very recent.

I was born in a small yet historically relevant city in God’s Own Country (Kerala, in South India) called Calicut, a.k.a Kozhikkode (historically because that was where Vasco de Gama landed almost five centuries back.) But I didn’t stay there for long considering the fact that my father was one of those millions who had shifted base to the oil-rich Gulf in the 1970’s. (and yeah, I am the only one born in Kerala among my siblings. Both my brothers were born in Muscat, Oman.) So sooner than later, I was in the Middle East getting used to the constant air conditioning and biriyani or ghee rice on Fridays (it used to be a tradition for up until the late 1990’s in our home – Mom used to make neychor (ghee rice) with chicken curry or different biryanis on Fridays, so that the whole family sat together and ate peacefully after the men came back from the Friday Juma prayers). Oh yeah, I forgot to mention – the sweltering heat, even though nobody ventured out before it was at least 4 in the evening.

I vaguely remember where we used to live when I was really very tiny (I have to ask ma mom one of these days about it), but yeah when I was around 5 years of age, I clearly remember staying in this flat in Muttrah. It had huge halls and there were around 10 apartments within that hallway. It was fairly a huge apartment with two bedrooms and very friendly neighbours. It was the 90’s, people did talk to each other then. My mom, used to being the clean and practical one used to even get out of the way into cleaning the hallways, clearing it off the cobwebs and dust from time to time. I remember a Malayalee family, with whose children I used to play around with. When my mom left for Hajj, dad used to make us breakfast in the morning, cover it with a plate and head off to his office. Me and my brother after having our breakfast (which mainly included bananas or Upuma) used to head out to our neighbour’s place, where we played our hearts out until it was evening and our dad came back. It was a fairly nice place to stay. I remember my mom walking me down the steps towards the bus to take me to the school, which was situated towards the Corniche side of Muttrah (and yes, this very school would metamorphosize into the once prestigious Indian School Al Wadi Al Kabir).

That apartment was also the site of one of my worst personal accidents. I had burned myself real badly when I knocked over a mug of boiling hot water, which was being used as a vaporizer to clear off blocked noses. Ugh, the pain of having my skin peeled off when my dad pulled down my shorts to help take the scalding hot water away from my body was absolutely excruciating. For the next one month, I had to visit the hospital every day to have new dressing on both ma thighs. But that was just one of those many things, that you will encounter in your life. You will never know when the next incident that will scar you for life can come along.

The Al Fayha Complex as in 2009 (courtsey: Jonathan Kotker)

But after living there for almost three years we shifted base to Al Wadi Al Kabir, when the new school came up there. It was called the Al Fayha Complex and it was the company building. It still remains to me the best place I have ever stayed in my entire life. We lived through there from 1993 until 1998. We started at the second floor, and after my Uncle (Dad’s brother) brought his family down from India, we shifted our flat to the fourth floor. It was a two bedroom apartment with a sitting room, two bathrooms and a very nice kitchen. We lived a very comfortable life there, with mosques on all four sides of the building, the school was just walking distance and I made quite a lot of friends, with whom I still keep in touch.

I also remember heading off to three buildings to the left, behind the Adam and Sons Jewellery (who have been robbed quite a number of times), where my close buddy Jasper used to live. We would take out the Four Square, mom had gotten for me when she came back from India attending her sister's wedding. We'd go on out to the road, and make the pipes on the side of the wall our wickets and play gully cricket. Occasionally we were disturbed by the Omani hooligans, who didn't take a liking to us just minding our own business. But we did have a huge Asian contingency there. The Pakistani boys in our building used to get together in the evening and display some of the most awesomest gully cricket i have ever seen. I was basically blown away by their fast bowlers and big hitters. Being the small me, i was not able to be part of their teams, but time to time i too got a chance to see my wickets being shattered with a 100 km/hr ball.

Other than that our building had so many interesting people. There were the sisters (i don't remember how many they were) from Hyderabad, who used to always come out in their Hijab, which made them all the more mysteriously attractive. There were also the bachelors on the first floor, who used to work in the printing press on the ground floor. There was Jijesh uncle, one of the coolest friend's my Uncle ever had (he even got me a walkie talkie from Singapore when i asked for it, but leave it my elder brother who asked me not to accept it, since he thought our Dad won't like it.) I remember the time when me and my brother got into a fight destroying the huge balcony window (and the subsequent punishment by Dad, who beat us with his now famous cane stick.)

I also remember the time when my Uncle decided to cook for his sick wife, and literally got the pressure cooker to explode by trying to open it before it had lost out on all its pressure (the dal was all over the ceiling.) Relatives used to visit us. We had parties. This place sure did have quite a lot of memories and anecdotes to go along with it. It was a beautiful time. It was a beautiful place.

But all honeymoons get over. Sadly, my Dad hit a rough patch after his Sheikh expired and people were in danger of losing their jobs. He decided to send us back to India at least for the time being. So there, after almost 12 years in the Gulf I was heading back to the place I was born in - Calicut.

I didn't like it one bit that we had come back to our motherland. I was getting comfortable with the kind of life i lived in Muscat - quite, slow and relaxing. Its not like i hated Calicut or anything, but you know how it is when you leave your best friends in the world, and come to a place to begin a new life all over again. It was quite tough. And this was one of the main reasons, i initially didn't like the place. But things change, and it sure did for me. But that is for another blog post, when i move into our second home.

I Got An Incomplete List To Complete Before I Say I Do

2011-07-16T23:08:00.007+05:30

I mean how much more hilarious could life be? You have people getting married left, right and centre. What is it with people and getting married so young? Well with the kind of things happening around us, I believe that they are taking the Mayan belief that 2012 sure is the end of the world (courtesy my buddy Ashwin Gopinath - yeah we discussed this seriously idiotic topic and why people can't just go suicidal instead of getting married). But c’mon now, does that mean you get married even before you get a job, even before you can stand on your two feet, even before you’ve seen the world, before you’ve even had a hangover or two? You know what it is? It is ridiculous? Now don’t tell me that you’ve done all that even before your 23^rd birthday. And no I’m not being jealous nor am I being stupid. But that’s the deal people. You got so much more to do. If it were me, this would be a list of things to do before I hang my heart out:

Take a road trip to Ladakh
Hike across the Himalayas
Get wet in the rains of Cherapunji
Be in a band (again) and play to an audience equal to that of the number of people out on the street during India’s Cricket World Cup win
Gift Dad and Mom a foreign holiday for their anniversary
Drive MY car around one of the two drive-in beaches in India
Enjoy the littlest moments (a promotion, a raise, an award – it can be frikking anything – even your first swim with sharks) with your friends, no matter how busy any of them are
Put a smile on the face of everyone who cares for you and not
Get a book published (which is almost partially fulfilled ;))
Grow my hair long (It’s been like this unfulfilled wish for so long! ;))

And so much more people. So much more. If I continue with this list, I don’t think i’ll be able to finish it anywhere now. It might even take me time until my bachelorhood finishes, thereby guaranteeing that I will still have so many things to do before I get hitched. As for 2012, I tell, bring it on. I can wait. As long and as peaceful as I want.

A revisit

2011-07-02T13:52:00.006+05:30

3 years back, on a very sunny March morning, i had put up a story on this very blog. It was written after the devastation of the 2004 tsunami. It pained me to see the number of people who had lost their lives without warning, without a final goodbye and without a word to your loved ones.

The very story has now been chosen by New Asian Writing, a Bangkok based independent press to be published in their yearly Short Story Anthology.

http://www.new-asian-writing.com/?p=665

The Beginning of the End for Pixar?

2011-06-24T13:56:00.002+05:30

It’s Pixar’s 25^th anniversary and what it has offered on this momentous occasion has failed to live up to expectations. While the first movie was termed as one of Pixar’s weakest movies, this movie has easily taken over the mantle. From a predictable story line to a role reversal of characters, Cars 2 has all the making of Pixar’s halt in the production of world-class movies. From a studio that has produced blockbusters like Toy Story, Wall-E, Findin Nemo and Up, we really did expect nothing short of an impending blockbuster.

The story begins in an almost James Bond-ish setting with the arrival of a new character, Finn McMissile, immaculately voiced by Michael Caine trying to disrupt a scheming group of thugs. The animation department takes no second chances in putting good use of 3D technology in creating the huge colony of oilrigs in the middle of the ocean. After a tense ten minutes, you fall in love with the newest addition to the Cars 2 character list and wait for a striking plot and exquisite storytelling.

But that’s where it all goes wrong. We go back to Radiator Spring to meet the hero – Lightning Mcqueen (voiced by Owen Wilson)? Unfortunately this time around the hero is a side character from the first movie, Mater (voiced by Larry the Cable Guy). McQueen is taking his time off with his girlfriend Sally (voice by Bonnie Hunt), when yet another addition to the cast, Miles Axxelrod (voiced by Eddie Izzard), a billionaire announces a world grand prix. While initially refusing to race, McQueen gets pulled into it by an egotistical Italian car, Francesco Bernoulli (voiced by John Turturro), which is again voiced in a very stereotypical Italian voice. The parallel thin story is what Pixar has been trying to very conveniently portray through its trailers. Now since the movie is out, people will be wondering if they have been duped.

Finn is on a mission to disrupt a sinister plan by some really old cars, called ‘lemons’ in the movie, accompanied by the lovely Holley Shiftwell (voiced by Emily Mortimer), when the rusty old tow truck comes into the fray accidentally. Mater’s mix up as an American spy is where all the action lies, and the audience is left yawning over a period of time, even though there are some laugh-worthy moment at times. Axxelrod’s plan to introduce alternative fuel to actually disrupt the use of the same, is another confusion to the plot.

With exotic locations making way for pure American race tracks, and a spate of thugs giving way to scheming racers, Cars 2, directed by Pixar genius, John Lasseter does serve up its technical brilliance, but only to be foiled by an average script and weak characters. If you go in looking for the speed and thrill of racing cars, don’t be disappointed to return back with the feeling that this is the beginning of the end of Pixar magic.

The Same Old Feeling

2011-03-14T00:57:00.001+05:30

When you leave

With just a bye

I know its here

And once again

I am the loser

What i did wrong

I know not

I am a fool

For, it recurrs

Like a rotten pus

I hate to die

But i bleed

Again

And once more

I am the loser

The Dog on the Beach

2010-11-24T01:57:00.008+05:30

The following drama is the brainchild of Mr. Tejas Perumanna (a.k.a Mr. Mohandas), a brilliant teacher, artist, director, dramatist, magician and a wonderful human being. The original script was in Malayalam which has been adapted into English with permission. Even though it won’t have the magic of the original, we try to present the message – the message we all need to learn.

The idea to the following skit came forward during the beginning of 2005 when news clippings showed mass graves in which people were buried all together due to the catastrophic tsunami of December 26, 2004. The following scene has such a mass grave, covered yet so very shallow. The rest is for all of you to make out…

(Scene1)

Bodies strewn around. A stench so unbearable that you need to walk through it with your nose covered. A dog eating flesh of humans. An old man walks in and looks around.

Man: (startled) You filthy dog! What do you think you are doing? How dare you eat the flesh of humans?

Dog: (laughing) You call them humans? Why do you call them human? Why oh why?

Man: What do you mean u dirty scavenger?

Dog: Why do you ask me? Ask yourself. Are you not human?

Man: What have we not done for the welfare of others? What have we humans not achieved?

Dog: Oh you’ve achieved a lot! A Lot! Welfare - schelfare! Think back. Look at how you are now and how u were then –

(Scene-2)

4 people lined on the left hand side of the stage. The dog changes its mask and puts on a black one. And then goes towards the people on the left hand side of the stage.

Dog: (holds one hand up and shouts) Tell me my brothers. Why have we gathered here?

L group: (in chorus) To protect our relegion.

Dog: What is our aim?

L group: Create unrest till the land is ours

Dog: And how shall we do that?

L group: We shall kill them others for the sake of our people.

Dog: Then go! Leave no one! Kill them all! Go!

The stage clears as everyone except the dog runs out

(Scene3)

4 people lined on the right hand side of the stage. The dog changes its mask and puts on a red one. And then goes towards the people on the right hand side of the stage.

Dog: My people, them others threaten us! We need to react!

R group: Indeed we will

Dog: We’ve had enough of the atrocities!

R group: More than enough!

Dog: How shall we suppress them?

R group: We shall kill them for the sake of our people!

Dog: Then go! Let them be punished!! Kill them all! Go!

The stage clears as everyone except the dog runs out

(Scene 4)

Dog comes forward and changes the mask again. The two groups clash behind the dog. The dog laughs while the people behind him start killing each other until no one is left alive

(Scene 5)

Back to present. The old man walks up to the dog and the dog is still laughing.

Dog: So, do you remember now?

Man: Yes I remember. I remember everything

Dog: And you call them humans?

Man: No! No! They’re worse than…

Dog: Ah yes! Then, they were waiting to get at each others necks. Now look, how peaceful they are, all warm and cuddled up. No caste, no creed, no religion, no life.

Man: (holding the collar of one of the dead bodies lying on the ground) Why did you do this? Why? Why?

Dog: No use crying now and shouting to lifeless souls. Nature has itself taken them away. Do your change now, lest you don’t want to cry later. Now let me get back to where I was.

(Dog starts eating on the human flesh again. The old man walks forward. Looks up at the sky)

Man: (puts both his hands on in the air) Yes, we’ve done wrong! Yes, we’ve sinned! Forgive us, oh Lord!!

Waking up to the call

2010-11-21T22:22:00.002+05:30

i was unearthing my past digital records and i came across this essay, once again for some assignment most probably.

“Life is a festival only to the wise. Seen from the nook and chimney side of prudence, it wears a ragged and dangerous front.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Humanity is what man requires from the society, but most of the time he is denied of it. The long history of man from the barbaric age to the present modern world is a history of how evil won over good, and how evil wishes and actions got the better of peace loving people. Crime has thrived from the days of Adam and Eve. Even today it is as conscious as it was then. And the levels of crime have also increased manifold. It is just not crime relating to humanity. There are crimes aimed at technology, country, animals and even nature. And what do we do about it? Just talk, let other people know about it, while crime has a steady climb. It’s high time we reacted. If we do nothing about it, then who knows, crime might rule over us pretty soon, like the nightmarish democracy of the fictional Gotham City. The time is now and the action is immediate.

So what can the common man like us do about it? Well for starters, we need to clear the world of the evil it has at the moment, and then see to it that it does not resurrect itself. And this needs to begin from the bottom level of society, maybe somewhere around the community level. We could have less of moral policing and more of criminal policing. Instead of seeing what culture is being followed or who is doing what, one has to see that other anti-social elements that function in the shadow of such availabilities don’t escape. One can have public – police interactions at least once a week. They can suggest to each other as to how the place can be made safer. Sometimes people are scared to report anything to the police with the question as to whether they will be targeted by the criminals for just opening their mouths. So for such informants, the police needs to create enough anonymity, so that anyone can call in to report any crime without fear. Community policing is another ideal manner to tackle this problem. This can lessen the burden on the police, as well as give the satisfaction to the public that there is at least someone whom they know around them to protect them. Thinking of ideas, there are more than a million at hand. But those lie in the minds of the public out there. More of awareness classes to bring forward people into giving out new ideas should also be conducted.

But without personal involvement we may not be able to reach anywhere, because as Pubillius Syrus, the Latin writer once said – “You yourself are guilty of a crime when you don’t punish a crime”. So strap up some courage, and say no to crime and criminals. This provides us with a safer future and a better society.

A Letter

2010-11-19T00:47:00.002+05:30

I wrote this long back i guess. Don't know when it was or for whom. One of those days when the teacher asked you to write an essay is my closest guess. ;)

Dear Keith,

It’s been long since I heard from you. Actually pretty much a very long time. So how are you doing there? I heard that you are coming down to India this fall, for your higher studies. So that’s what this letter is mainly going to contain. I have to tell you what you can expect from here. It’s not your first time here I guess. But how old were you when you visited this place? Five, six? Well leave that, let me tell you a little about the wonder that is India.

Nowadays, it’s not the India of the books of the old days that you get to see. India is far from my dreams. Even though I live down in a village, all is changed and pretty much all modernity has crept into everyone’s life. But certain problems still remain as it has been since long back. Like drinking water, drainage and some roads here and there. Otherwise this is pretty much like any other country. You have fields full of working people, and at the same time high storey buildings with white collar jobs. You have bullock carts on the road, and at the same time you have the high end cars rolling way faster than them. One can find a lot of contrasting features once you land in India. That is what makes this a wonderful place to live in. For a feel of the old in the new, India can do more than wonders into letting you get into that feeling. Maybe you might find the stench of the gutters unbearable, but at the same time you cannot forget the fact as to how many people live in this small sub continent – being the second most populous country in the world. The amenities may not be sometimes up to the standards, but the love of the people at hand is rather immense and the support you get from them can forward you anywhere in the world.

I have been trying to give you a rather slim picture of India in these few words. Hope you have got a better understanding about the country of the Akbar’s, Asoka’s, Mahatma’s, Tata’s, Tendulkar’s and so many more. Looking forward to seeing you at the earliest, say my hi to everyone out there and take care.

Saying so
Your best friend
Bharat

I am a Muslim!

2010-08-30T15:58:00.004+05:30

i am a muslim. kill me and call it collateral damage. imprison me and call it securty measure. exile my people en masse and call it new middle east. rob my resources, invade my land, alter my leadership and call it democracy. but still we say assalamu alaikum, peace be upon you.

Q: I believe that d moment u associate ur self with religion not as righteousness bt as sth that a scripture says, there's gonna b a problem. n more so when u go on generalising as such. d so called religion has 2 change according 2 times n if it sticks at 1 point of time, m sure u trying 2 defy d greatest truth n reality of nature: Change. Islam's greatest strength is its fundamentalism n its greatest weakness is also fundamentalism (excuse me fr using dis word). Next, wt u call 'ur land' is bound 2 raise concerns. because v Indians believe in d concept of Earth as mother. coz demographically Muslims r more in middle east, it can't b ur land.
Agreed, 1 should b concerned about killings of fellow human beings. Agreed, evry 1 should work fr real democracy, violation of human rights n religious freedom of course. Agreed, 1 ll b naturally more concerned abt his fellow community members. Bt 2 base d whole logic on sth inside d dimensions of 1 religion doesn't make u a rational human being either.
Lastly: d fundamentalist Muslims r d greatest enemies of Islam. I would love to believe that Akbar n not Aurangzeb b d role model of every Muslim.
India was ruled by all sorts of invaders bt d nation survived.Bombs, can't kill a nation or a religion. Middle East is not facing an existential crisis from outside bt from inside. Islam was never under scrutiny or doubt ever, more than today. And that's not coz US army is sending its drones in Afghanistan n Iraq mountains bt coz Muslims hv been behaving more irresponsibly as fellow human being than ever.
I am sure many of my argument can b countered with good logic. Bt 2 logically blame others fr every wrong that happens 2 u, my friend, is not a good way 2 reform urself.

A: at first, i was expressing solidarity with a particular sentiment rather than trying to enforce or rather generalize the religion as such...

i agree with the fact that religion needs to adjust over the time, but i ask of you again - to what extent?

"coz demographically Muslims r more in middle east, it can't b ur land" - this is a statement way beyond the truth... south asia has almost around three times the number of muslims u can find in the middle east and north africa combined... so i donno where you got that statement from?

you talked about india being invaded by various nations... true... how long did the mughals rule? there is always a beginning, a middle and an end... think about it... and this is as much my country as it is of anybody else in India!

when a muslim is convicted of doing something wrong, he is straightaway branded an islamic fundamentalist... why is it that no other religion is targeted in such a manner... why aren't they called christian killers or hindu terrorists or the thousand and one associations that u can make? why is it always that for the cause of some brainless shithole, the religion of islam need take the beating? why can't we force it out of our vocabularies... why brand an entire religion for the deeds of a few? why is it that americans are not allowing a masjid to be built next to ground zero? it is an inherent paranoia of branding every muslim a terrorist... and instead of making them realize that islam is a religion of peace and understanding, you again instill fear in them... i beg you to understand the religion better and not come to conclusions about it from what you hear from others...

and for another i never mentioned a US or an afghanistan or which land or whatever... its easy to defend yourself when you don't have the hate of the world thrust into your eyes... try being in our shoes for a while...

and when have we blamed others? u seemed to have again missed out on the end line - may peace be upon you (assalamu alaikum)

i am i

2010-08-28T15:41:00.006+05:30

I am the chalk
In the hot chocolate

The day isn't over
But i am wasted

The wind ain't cold
You burn forever

Out of bounds
Time's a joke

Freedom the call
By the noose hung

You lie
I am i

You care not know more!

cry

2009-11-21T00:18:00.002+05:30

Sax: Do you cry?
Me: Yes I do.

But why?

There are a number of things I miss.

I miss the smell of fresh earth after a brief spell of rain. All I can smell now are the asphalt road, cemented gullies and overflowing drains. And I cry.

I miss the late night coffee mom makes after dinner. Now I drink water – mineralized and chlorinated, I think I hear the walls of my wall erode. And I cry.

I miss the cold wind on my face as I drive through NH17. Here, I move at the speed of snail, unaware of the man pushing men to meet ends needs. And I cry.

I miss the warmth of friends, embracing each emotion as being their own. At present, I wait every night, hoping for a virtual hug over optical cable and satellite signals. Not warm. But someone cares. And I cry.

I miss the solitude of the blue room. I miss the redwood bed. I miss the green gdrej. I miss the antique computer. I miss the world map covered table.
I miss home. I miss love. I cry.

Just My Luck

2009-10-27T16:26:00.000+05:30

If I were to see
From land across sea,
A beautiful lass
Would come across me

Jet black hair
Would reach the rear
With a lock
On the bosom dock

Starlit eyes
Shine the night skies
Even doused lights
Wouldn’t lose her bright

The lips spoke
As little talk
An angel’s voice
She shared the poise

Alas it goes
Seen but a pose
My wife awoke
Looking nothing like the rose

Delhi in Dubai is also Dubai in Delhi

2009-08-27T21:38:00.003+05:30

A month into this venture of unknown north capital has bought me in touch with a bachelor life that is quite reminiscent of the life of the working labour class in the land of black gold in the gulf. My references to the Middle East coming due to the fact that it has the highest number of Indians working as labourers; and having experienced their lives up, close and personal. I can clearly remember walking into a bachelor’s quarter in Dubai to meet some of my Uncle’s friends as early as 2006. To paint a picture of the life there – six hard working people, living together under one roof, with bunk beds to save space and their own personal space spread over just a few centimetres. It was really a sight worth its weight in pity that I could not keep myself from shedding a tear or two.

Fast forward three years, and here in Delhi I have seen the same thing happening all over again. Just that most of the people who live in such homes are the students doing their higher studies in the umpteen number of colleges and universities present here. It is worth applauding how each day is spent by them out here. I am lucky enough to say that I have lived with them these past two weeks and am looking forward to living with them the coming two more years. We have teachers over here, who go on speaking about as to why we are not able to live up to their expectations and how they too have a life of their own and how they have a family to care about and how they are so hard working. But to tell the truth, they don’t know anything and I can vouch you for that. If they have experienced what troubles the students go through here, then their extended speeches about being on time and adjusting to timings will surely vanish without a trace. I extend my heartiest welcome to any faculty over here, who live a life of normal luxuries to spend just a day with us. I take this platform to shout out that it is quite hard adjusting to life out here and for once someone would take up to understanding the poor students out here and give them the respect that they deserve.

Well I guess I am going over the top, but my message stays vindicated.

A week and not much Dilli dallying.

2009-08-14T17:22:00.001+05:30

It’s been exactly a week since I have been to the nation’s capital. There are a lot of things I am missing out here. And at the same time, there are some things that I am getting to know more about right here. For example, the presence of the pitter patter of raindrops is something that I miss very much. But I think it is one of the things that I have to take into being when I decided that I would be coming down to study here. Delhi can be so dry, that it reminds me a lot of my days in Muscat – hot, humid, and dry. But there was some respite yesterday, when there were gentle showers for barely around 15 minutes. But that didn’t do anything to bring the dryness down over here. It merely increased the humidity, and made me more than wanting to head back to the lush green lands of Kerala.
My days so far have been subjected to hours and hours back to back on the TV, flipping through the limited English channels and the occasional regional ones (of which there are only two – you know just to keep in touch with what’s happening back at home). That is incidentally also the time that I heard about the death of one of the most eminent actors of our time – Mr. Murali, who has acted in almost all the available film industries in the south. I take this moment to give my salutations and may his soul rest in peace. He was a brilliant theatre personality, actor, writer and much more, but the most important of all – a wonderful human being.
By the time you must be reading this, I imagine I must have got to some internet connection, but save for the first couple of days, I have been cut off from the world of internet (which is kind of weird for me, considering the fact that I have been addicted to it 24/7 for the past year and a half). I haven’t mentioned as of yet to where I am right?
I am currently at the Delhi cantonment, under the very amicable and warm Colonel Vinod, who happened to be a senior of my uncle during his college days. The life out here pretty much very much simplified. I can get up any time of the day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner will be served at exactly the right times, when it will be bought in perfect tiffins and they will be hot and piping. To beat the heat, I’ve got myself air conditioning. To entertain I’ve got a TV, and basically that is all I’ve been doing all this while – watch TV and some more TV and then some more TV. With internet connection going down the drain, it has become particularly difficult for me to contact with the outside world as well, since my mobile connection is that of Kerala circle, and i am charged for incoming calls at the moment. So I have to see to it that I don’t talk for more than a couple of minutes to anyone who calls (except that there can be quite some exceptions, if you know what I mean). That’s all for my lonely and sad life out here. Wait till next time to hear more.

My 25

2009-03-12T01:42:00.002+05:30

1. I am a small time poet and I attribute it all to ma friends - Ashwin G., Akthar and Vaisakh - with whom I co-wrote our first poem - The Solitary Eater, which was inspired by the poem - The Solitary Reaper. Although the latter is a melancholic poem, ours made fun of a fat boy in our class. But he took it in the right sense. And as they say... there was no turning back after that. ;) I've with me around 60 odd poems on a variety of topics.

2. I'd always wished for two things since ma school days into ma college years - to be a part of a sports team or play for a band. I must have tried out almost all the sports, starting from football in ISWK, to running the 5000, 10000, the marathon in MES to cricket in college! I also tried with the school band. But all I was able to be was be a part of the choir. In college the first two years, I stayed close to the college band, coz somebody i liked was in the band ;) But who would know ma luck, in the final year, I jokingly said that I would be more than willing to play the bass guitar since there was no one else to play it. We went on to win the B-Zone, the inter zone and now heading towards the south zone, got a program on A.I.R, played at more than five venues! Luck by chance? Thank ya God!

3. The craziest trip we ever had in school was the first trip we took out in our 11th grade. 8 friends, 4 bikes. 1 major accident, some pretty close shaves later - we learnt whatever we had to in that very first trip we had. Especially of the fact that we should atleast have some money at hand. Bee tee dblew - this was the first time in ma life that ma entire life ever flashed before me, while the bike threw me off in the air to do a double sommersault and land smack in the middle of the road! The only thing broken? My Casio watch - that too just its glass!

4. I love cooking! Some might think of it as being really girlish and all, but should i remind you of some of the best chefs in the world? All MALE! Anywho ma speciality lies in spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs, fried rice, "mutta mala" (literally translates into egg chain) (a speciality sweet of the malabar region of kerala) and payasam. What say people, care for some meal a day?

5. I hate people who lie. I mean I literally loathe them. There are so many instances when I know that people are lying, but they won’t even stop after that. So this to all you liars out there – stay clear of me, coz I wouldn’t like to be a friend of yours. And it hurts the most when friends lie! I have made it a point not to lie. You either say something truthfully or u quit! Not saying anything is also hiding a lie!

6. I just totally love ma friends and are glad that they are around. You mean so much to me. They are like the most awesomest thing that could ever happen to me. And the fact that all of them are in like a thousand directions around me, makes me proud of em.

7. There are umpteen number of best days in ma life. If I were to start writing them here, I don’t think I would cover them all. And in the end I might miss out on some of the most fanfabulous days.

8. I’ve hated college life, atleast till now – that is graduation and I am glad that I am leaving this place at the earliest. But I loved ma school life, that is atleast till the tenth standard. It was unbelievable.

9. One thing you have to know about me – I am very short tempered. I can go ballistic over the smallest of things and this has gotten me into trouble quite a few times. But I am working over it, and ma friends play a huge part into relaxing me down. Otherwise I am a quiet person.

10. I don’t think I’ve loved somebody like I last loved. And it will take me bloody some while to ever, if there is an ever to get over it. BLOODY HELL A LOT!

11. I burnt both my thighs and the adjoining areas when I was just five years old in Muscat. It happened when I accidentally pulled the vessel containing hot boiling water filled with vicks (used during colds, the old technique). It was night, and ma dad immediately took me to the bathroom, poured cold water, and pulled down ma shorts along with the skin coming with it. Fortunately, ma uncle who was a pharmacist had come down from Salalah and he had some medicine with him. It was applied and then I was taken to the hospital. I can remember that the next one month was a two way transportation between the hospital and home, with ma bandages being changed everyday.

12. I am an ardent fan of sitcoms. I must have watched FRIENDS like a gajillion times. Same is the case with scrubs, how I met your mother, the big bang theory and so many more. I can go on a marathon any given time of the year watching reruns after reruns of all these shows. Provided I am stacked with enough snacks and drinks to keep me on the couch.

13. If there is one place I would love to retire at, I think it would be right here in Calicut with a beachfront house and some peace and quiet. This place can literally translate into – retirees pradise. (no, there ain’t nothing hip happening out here)

14. I love movies and music. You can find me glued on to any kinda movies. You name the genre I will watch it – classic, world, thriller, action, romance, noire, musical, comedy etc etc. Ask me to name one favourite from each? You’d better take up the library details from ur nearest rent shop coz I got gajillions of ‘em. Ben hur, the sound of music, die hard, gladiator, bruce almighty, seven samurai, forrest gump, made of honor, the exorcist… the list would go on and on and on….

15. I am a very bossy person and I can really really really very badly hurt a person emotionally. But I guess I can also be the first one to go and apologize. But what use after hurting someone so badly, right? I shall do ma best to restrain myself from doing so in the future. But if I do too, I am really sorry coz that’s who I am. Deepest apologies.

16. I love going on road trips, especially on bikes. Especially if it is all out of the blue. My friend, Vaisakh calls me up one afternoon and asks me if I want to ride down with him to Bangalore. Voila, by evening we are on the road! And by midnight, in Bangalore. This happened quite often if u ask me. ;)

17. I’ve lived 13 years of ma life in Muscat, Oman. And the rest 8 in Calicut, India. I’ve juggled schools between ISWK, Hill Top and MES. Couldn’t do that with the college! Just one grand old lady I’ve studied at – MCC (a hundred year old college right in the heart of Calicut!)

18. I love gardening and keeping an aquarium. I guess I caught this habit from ma dad. He put me in charge of the tank with atleast five huge fishes in them since I was around 7 years old I guess. And ma dad always likes to have the money plant around, and loves to grow different kind of flowers. The former I haven’t been able to do properly, coz I really need a huge aquarium, kinda like the one that we had in Muscat, and the latter, I am working on at the moment. Greening day by day.

19. A close friend of mine told me that she would put up this at the same time that I did. But turns out waiting for her, I actually never finished mine, while she has already put up hers. I am seriously out of points out here people, so I had to put up some crap.

20. I just read in the newspaper recently about such kinda notes. They say that most of these notes are totally embarrassing to the ones who put it up. I guess truth can be a lil embarrassing. Wanna know some embarrassing stuff about me? I’ve had just one date in ma entire life (legitimate), i’m afraid of cockroaches, ma friends came home one day and pulled down ma pants when I had no undergarments inside. Ok u can’t get me more embarrassed than that! ;)

21. The worst day of ma life. When I spent one day at the police station. Not in lock up, but still in the Police Station!

22. I love blogging and half my time is spent in front of the computer. A day has 24 hours. You can find me online at least 12 hours of it. When I have practically nothing to do at all, I guess u can find me the entire day on it. Chatting. Networking. Socializing. Browsing. You name it. I am doing it.

23. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices.

24. Ma role model is ma dad. He is like superman to me. If there is an autobiography I would like to publish, it would be his. His life story is just plain amazing!

25. People who know me have always associated me with three words – Always Keep Smiling! That is the message that I would like to convey across to all of u too. No matter how hard times turn out to be, there is always a silver lining, so always keep smiling!

Well that’s that and that’s all.

q&a

2009-02-01T12:28:00.001+05:30

mj wrote:

Its funny to think about the effect that some people can have on you. They effect you in such a way that you never know how you're going to react to it and thats what surprises you about yourself!
Someone wise told me that all you need to survive in this world are a hard heart, the ability to 'kiss-ass', a competitive spirit and tons of ambition. Now someone please correct me if im wrong- Napoleon was poisoned; Caesar was stabbed; Hitler committed suicide and even Mahatma Gandhi though different from all these 'so-called qualities' was assassinated.
So now there are only two conclusions: 1: The person who told me was completely dumb and 2: You never know what life is going to throw at you so give up trying to be completely ready because life is something that happens to you after you have made all your fool-proof plans!

i answered :

there is a contradictory notion in what you have written and i am glad that i have got this platform to comment upon it... you begin by telling that someone wise told u so and so... but then at the same time you say the person is dumb... this is amply confusing...

now then the names you have mentioned before... all these people that you have mentioned in the list are all the biggest ass kissers in the world...i even include the mahatma in this... (hope no one takes this into offense) they would not have reached there where they have reached if they hadn't kissed... i totally agree with the fact they were poisoned, stabbed, assassinated or killed themselves... but have u wondered why? don't u think the power they had at hand was more than they could handle... in a small way don't u think a little enthusiasm over the board made them lose the way? (i am barring the Mahatma from all this, k?) i mean if they were to have a little control of themselves... then they could have ruled over this world... such people don't survive... personally kissing ass people make it into the real world... but one who can kiss ass and keep their mouth shut survive in this world... sadly though gratefully neither napolean, caesar or hitler was able to do that... so point to be noted...

and who speaks abt life? no one knows whats in store for them... but one has to know how to brace urself... u get thrown in the sea? what do u do? u thrash around... you move ur arms and legs... u work till u teach urself how to swim... it's always like that... i don't think anyone would have planned on their life in any way... even the so called "wise dumb" person would say that... coz life is what we thought yesterday that is today and today that is tomorrow... full of surprises... hope i've made the point clear out there as well...

and as for the writing... i think i've already told u abt the crisper aspect... write on... ;)

when everyone's not there

2009-01-11T00:33:00.005+05:30

“We need others. We need others to love and we need to be loved by them.
There is no doubt that without it, we too, like the infant left alone, would cease
to grow, cease to develop, choose madness and even death.” - Leo Buscaglia

Do you know the feeling of being invisible? The thought of being in denial aplenty? What do you do then? Sit quiet? Listen passively? Or react adversely? Haven't all of you been through this phase once in ur life?

The time and pain you take in realizing someone else's dream is far from the sight of the person that you are doing it for. What then? Is it required to live for someone who is living without a dot of appreciation?

Even when everyone knows that the only person around you who can make you feel better is not there for you, won't you feel alone? Won't you crave for a bit of company? I wonder how many of you ever felt so?

The breeze that flows around has seen a lot. It whispers in my ear from time to time. I can hear it say. It gave me hopes and smiles. Even in my solitude, i wish for a company. For now the wind has gone. For now, i have lost.

beginning

2009-01-06T04:38:00.003+05:30

A small victory. An unending overwhelming heartiness. Celebrations all around. Ear deafening raptures. All this while, a position above the one below the top was mere nothingness to me. But to be there on the top is quite an exhilarating experience. Your blood rushes, your pace increases, hugs pass around like there’s no tomorrow. Yes, we won. A small victory. With wishes to do more, and hope to aspire much, we take it in as a fresh start to this year and believe that there are miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.

Mirrored Mirage

2009-01-01T22:10:00.003+05:30

I’m a thief
By means all I say not
I’m unimagined
I’m the dark in the white
The black in the light
I’m the hole in the gap
If I was right
Then why am I wrong?
Is in me then,
The cause of worry?
Across, afar
I come see a mirror
A presentiment abides
In what I see
I am a thief
I shall not know why.

the jellybum's jingle!

2008-12-14T14:01:00.003+05:30

i know im not supposed to be here but i couldnt resist the thought of entering this world( the inner sanctum as he calls it)!!! it feels AAWWEESOMEEEE to be in someone else's head!

and if its his......what more could you ask for!

ha! ha! ha! nishath!

the blur

2008-12-12T22:12:00.003+05:30

Sometimes the worst in life comes at one long stretch. And I think it has been the case of millions of life around the world. But the same couldn’t stand more corrected for the people of India, beginning with the 26 of November, there has been utter turmoil wherever you turn your head to. The ending November just brought about a saddening December.

Same’s been the case with me. I’ve lost hope and faith in almost anything and everything. Be it life, be it normalcy, be it even your friends – there is always the utter nonsense of it all. It’s like what you wanted to live is right in front of you and not happening to you. And the worst of which would usually take over a life is happening to you. Why does it always happen that you feel like you are always squished under a large thumb?

But people always tell that there is a comeback? When is this comeback? Considering the fact that when you want something you don’t get it at all. Take my case for instance, I’ve had so many dreams and aspirations, but it’s always been “what’s-best-for-you-beta-you-take-it-but-also-listen-to-us”. Everytime you do something there are like a thousand people around you to question it’s relevancy, it’s future, it’s outcome and God knows what else? When will they understand that it’s our life rather than theirs that they are playing with? I’d saved up my last salary and have been waiting to get back with my friends from Muscat for the past 7 months. I did not even spend a single buck from the money that I saved up. And see now what happens? I am under house arrest.

Let me ask you, where do you get all this world knowledge from? Will you being holed up in a house take you around the world? Some people might say – there is the whole world in front of you in the form of the internet. But I say – screw you! If you haven’t traveled, you haven’t seen nothing. I wanted to know, I wanted to see, I wanted to understand, but there is always someone or something to stop you. I cannot blame my people for not allowing me or anything, but also at the same time I loathe them so much. Just imagine – you look forward to something so much. And what do you get?

I hate to be me at the moment…

mirza ghalib - lajawab or kya nahin

2008-12-04T13:46:00.002+05:30

"Mat pooch ke kya haal hai mera tere peeche?
Tu dekh ke kya rang tera mere aage..."

Ask not what separation has done to me
You see your poise (composure) when I come before you...

"Dil hee to hai na sang-o-khisht, dard se bhar na aaye kyon?
royenge hum hazaar baar, koee hamein sataaye kyon?"

Heart it is, not a stone or brick
Why shouldn't it feel the pain?
Let none tyrannize/torment this heart
Or I shall cry and cry again....

the soul of our heart

2008-11-20T20:50:00.003+05:30

Today I am sad. My sadness knows no bounds for the fact that my favorite Grandma left for heaven’s abode. I know she looks over us, and even now I am haunted by the knowingness I shall hold her hand no more.

The last time I held her hand, I whispered into her ears that I shall not allow her to go so easily. She’d smiled even then. She’d smiled to let us know. She’s smiled to give us warmth.

My mind wandered. Here and there. I left practice and then discovered – I was lost in thoughts. I’d lost my helmet. Who would now ask me to check if her clock was still working? I’d lost time’s count and I am still sad.

She’d asked for me, a moment and more. But I am sad I wasn’t there. Could there be more love than what she’s given? I am still sad. I wasn’t there.

And then when I wished to see her, I cried. And for one last time I saw her fragile face. And smile at me she did so too. I am sad but I am there.

Chandra, my favorite grandma, forever you shall remain…

ma angels

2008-11-05T23:15:00.013+05:30

Months and more
When a baby and less was I
She carried me around
Smiled at me
Took me in her arms
Woke up in the middle of the nights
Fed me
Made sure I burped
The songs she sang
The warmth of her touch
Mom I love you
Have
Am
Will
Always.

Days and nights,
Memories,
Laughs,
Frustrations,
Fights,
Secrets,
Hopes,
Wishes,
Anything & everything
The narrowness,
The thinness,
The path of what might be,
Wherever,
Whenever,
Anu – Mukz
I love u
Have
Am
Will
Always.

You all inspire me.
You move me.
You make me cry.
You make me laugh so hard it hurts.
You make me smile.
You make me know that you care.
You make me.

a 1000 dreams to just wish

2008-10-08T23:42:00.005+05:30

hazaron khwahishein aise bhi hote hain,
anjaane kahi gum ho jaate hai,
yadon ki woh haseen pal,
milte bhi tab pigal jaate hain,
sunsan dil rehna padega.
lekin haste huey hum yeh kah jaate hain -
hazaron khawishein asie hi rah jaate hain...

the shower cubicle incident

2008-09-27T00:51:00.008+05:30

This happened during our tenth grade. We were all on a tour from the school. The tour included places like Thekkadi, Idukki, Munnar and all the scenic places in and around it (now for those of u people who must be thinking – “where the hell are all these place?”, try typing these names into wikipedia – u’ll understand that Kerala in South India is better to be called God’s Own Country (a.k.a GOC)[presumably])

So yeah as we were saying, we were quite a number of students on the tour. This particular incident happened when we stayed over at Idukki at a place called Greenland lodge. We had to stay over for the night. Coz we had seen enough sites for the day, and we were to head for our next destination the coming morning.

It was a fun night I tell you. We had a huge dormitory. Some guys were lucky enough to get rooms (which was shared among four of them). But it was more fun in the dorms. There was the occasional trying out new stuff (like – “hey who’s smoking in here?” - yeah … yeah… I know we were young… but we had to try it out). So after much hullaboo and a lot of fun later –

We never even knew when the sun shone on our faces. It was freezing cold out there. [again for the one’s who haven’t been to GOC, let me give u this – this place is our very own high altitude place ;)].

We were all asked to get ready by the two teachers who accompanied us. One a male (for the boys) and the other a female (you know it – for the gals). The male sir was our moral studies teacher – Mr. Subhan Babu (a.k.a. SB) [he was seriously fun I tell u, a real cool guy] I seriously can’t remember who the lady teacher with us was. Now the girls were provided with well to do wash facilities, and most importantly bathrooms with doors and latches on them. While we boys were royally shown the way to our imperial bath suites – an open locker room kind single bathroom outlets with no doors and just curtains for doors.

So one by one we took chances to get bathed. There were like around 5 shower outlets, and so five of us were engaged at the same time. There was this one guy among us, called Shinaan. Now this guy is a laugh riot, and you wouldn’t even know when time passes by when he is around. So as I was saying. He got into the shower cubicle. He turned on the shower, that is when it hit him – he’d forgotten to take body wash. He ran (obviously with a towel around his waist) and made it to the dorm, rummaged through his luggage, got the thing that he was looking for, and made it back to the shower cubicle.

But alas, somebody had already gotten in. The curtains were closed. And somebody was taking a shower. Now Shinaan had been waiting in queue for long to take a bath. And when by chance he got it to himself, somebody took it over. This couldn’t happen. Shinaan went ballistic. He shouted to the person inside the shower cubicle – "Hey asshole! Get the beep out of the beep shower. I’ve been waiting in here for beep time and you beep take it all away. beep you!!! beeper beep beeping beeper!!!" (the beeps are censored words)

Suddenly Shinaan finds that whoever the person inside it was, had turned off the shower. And then a familiar voice came from inside – “Shinaan if you have finished, you can please move aside. You might not want to face me when I come out.”

Yes, it was Mr. Subhaan Babu. A lot of morality was taught to him I guess in that single day.

The Zahoor Effect

2008-09-22T00:25:00.007+05:30

Well as you know it’s the time of Ramadan. It brings with itself a self revelation among the people to be good, do good and be cheerful. I think I have always believed it that if there is a change for the good and it should always be for the best (which means it should stay on forever and not for just one month. *tsk* *tsk* like for example now - where they are all goody goody, just to get back into the same old shoe after a month)

Well it was just another day in the month of Ramadan for me today. At around 9 at night, I called up ma friend Nawab and asked him as to where he was. He asked me to join him at the beach. Now Calicut beach is quite picturesque (I mean ‘chick’wise as well as the surrounding wise). So I did not think twice before finding myself at the ‘walk’ in the beach.

There were three of us sitting there – Nawab, Zahoor (his friend) and myself. Both are Afghani’s. So there we were on the beach ‘walk’ sitting on the side wall between a calm beach and some lazy cows on the interlocks (it’s India after all, who did u expect to be on the interlocks?) Well there were quite a lot of cattle on the beach for today. But there were more people than the cattle (thank God).

Zahoor decides to call his girlfriend (an Afghani – been just here for a few years – even he’s gotten lucky, damn… mera number kab ayega?) But she doesn’t pick it up. And he asks me –

“You tell me one thing. I find this really strange. I mean I call girls at 9 or 10. They don’t pick up. But they have no problem talking after 11 or midnight. I sometimes get miss calls at 2 past midnight”

What could I answer?

I laughed. Told him – it might be strange to you. But that’s how it rolls here in Calicut. (Maybe you girls out there can help answer that better)

And then he had quite a few other doubts. He was like a refreshing breeze to the stagnant life that we lived off here. There was laughter. He spoke of the time when he got slapped by a girl. The times he had out here in Kerala. The differences in the colleges in and around Calicut. I can tell you this – he has a better understanding of the people of Calicut than even me. He has a solution for everything. You know why? Coz he receives anything with an open smile. No stress, nothing at all. Come what may, go what may, he lives each moment to the max. I wished to be him for a moment there.

No moment was dull. The Zahoor effect changed my perspective on life a bit – live life, love life.

Love Actually?

2008-09-12T01:05:00.003+05:30

This thing called love is really kinda very strange. You don’t know when and to whom you are falling in love. And when you do fall in love it’s so not right. You try to calculate the relation you’ve been having with them, and then you end up thinking as to whether you need to tell them or not. And some times you end up doing the foolish thing – by going along and telling them out. I don’t know why I say this, maybe because every time I’ve tried to open out my heart, I believe that I do one of the most foolish things possible. But then there will be people who will disagree with me. They’ll say that is better out than in. There’s no question of buts or what ifs. It’s all straight into the face. I am sad and at the same time that I have never been such a kind of person. But let me tell you one thing – when you love somebody, mean it with your heart. There’s no use trying to get the other person love you back or show your love in much more than just affection. When you give, give as if you’ve known no boundaries. These words are all rather the normal clichés I guess. But then again I have not got anything else to say to you. Maybe people take me too much for granted. But I succumb to whatever they make of me. I think this has got to change. Now you people must be thinking as to whether I’ve fallen in love again. But it’s not that I’ve fallen in love again. It’s just that I don’t when I fall in love no more. It’s quite the mystery. Maybe that’s why I am so hard to crack.

Motorcycle Diaries – City of Contrasts!!!

2008-08-31T13:34:00.005+05:30

The first thing that comes to your mind when u visit the city of Bangalore is the stark similarity it has with cities like Dubai and others around the world. We had an eventful bike travel from the city of Calicut to Bengalooru (that’s what it's called nowadays). Anywho we started at around 6.30 in the morning. We traveled around 40 kms without much trouble. But then at around the twisting roads of Wayanad district we came face to face with what is known as nature's fury. It was raining like mad and we had nothing to protect us from the arrows from heaven, save the windstopper jacket and helmet. The conditions got so worse that we could not even flex our fingers to hold the clutch or anything. So we had to take a well deserved break at Kalpetta, from where we had tea and peed like hell. When the pee touched the morning floor, it started to evaporate the wetness and u could well see it clearly. Well this situation continued for around 50 more kilometers. As usual nature played with us. And as abruptly as we had started the rain came to a full stop at this place called Sultan Bathery. There we got into the Indian coffee house and had dosa, vada, puri and coffee. Then at around 110 kilometers, we crossed the Karnataka- Kerala border and then I took over the reins of the bike. Well it was quite a sight. We were very slightly stopped in the tracks due to a rogue elephant that attacked only small vehicles. But we took up the courage and went speeding past the raging elephant. Phew! That was a close one. And then it was quite a sight, through Gundalpett. Watch out Kerala, all the flowers for onam are close being realized right here in Gundalpett. We stopped to take some snaps. We even posed along with a local. It was nice, just for the stupid moment where vkh lost out on the camera ka pouch. Stupid idiot. Totally I was devastated, coz if I had borrowed something, I had always seen to it that I give it back to them as they had given it to me, or in a better condition still. No problemo amigo. Got to get him the pouch back.

Anywho, I drove for the next 120 kilometers or something, until we reached Mysore or something I guess. Anywho we reached Mysore without much to talk about or do anything at all. Let me tell u about Mysore. A really nice place if u ask me. They’ve got the greenery for greenery, the palaces for palaces and so on and so forth. The palaces are quite a sight. Takes you to some place else for sure. Anywho we stressed on. We had to take the now famous Bangalore-Mysore state highway. It was one of the most exhilarating rides of my entire life. And the bloody bike was with vkh, half the 140 kilometers stretch of road. We reached speeds of up to around 119 km/hr. I had to stop him otherwise I don't know what he would have done or up to which speed he would have gone! Anywho we stopped in the middle somewhere and got into cafe coffee day and I had a latte and black Forrest cake. Lip smackingly delicious. And then I took up the reins of the bike yet again. And just five kilometers before reaching the city of Bangalore, I gave it over to vkh. We were greeted at first by picturesque lakes and greenery and then moving a little ahead we were greeted by garbage here and there, polluted water and the usual. As I told u, this city is somewhat a kind of a deprived city of the U.A.E or something. It’s quite the city of contrasts. As Shivaji would put it - the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. We are really thankful to vkh's uncle Vijay who was kind enough to allow us accommodation at his place. And u should see this place where they live. it really reminded of my stay with my mom's bro's back there in Dubai and Abu Dhabi. The streets are so narrow and the place so crowded that I really wonder why this place is called as the garden city and also as the IT hub of the country!! What use if the people remain so. And then vkh took me around the city and we had to show the bike at some bajaj showroom or something. And guess what we were confronted by??? Bumper to bumper traffic, and bloody so much pollution that it's quite difficult to go through those places without some kinda of protective eyewear and a filter. The same thing again - As in Dubai. And I called up some of my friends in Bangalore. And u should have seen the way they behaved. What I understood from the attitude of the people around here is that most of them think for themselves only and will not even have time for one of their closest of closest friends. And finally they put the blame on you that we did not go and meet them.

The only exception I got was when vkh and myself went to meet one of our married classmate, Nunna who had just gave birth to her second child. They stayed at a place called Mahadevpura at white field road. They had a very good place. The ground and first floor were used as the factory where her husband had a business of motor making.(They sell around 3000 motors a month) and on the top floor, they have their residence. It’s one of the most fantastic places I’ve ever seen in Bangalore. It resembles the kind of houses that u see in Hindi and English movies. With the extended front courtyard and excellent interiors (just the fact that it was still under works when we came there). Anyways the feeling of homeliness was surely there. And they had wonderful two children. The elder one suffered brain hemorrhage, and is still under treatment. Well after having the heaviest lunch I had after coming to Bangalore (and the only one), we left the place and went in search of the stupid pg or house for them. Actually I got a person from the factory itself to show us some place. And we saw the house. And u should see the house. I’ll tell u the size of the house – take your normal a.t.m cubicle, give it some more space and then add a bedroom, a kitchen, a living room and even a bathroom. How nice rt.? And the rent? 2500 bucks with around 25000 rupees in advance. Shit this place yaar. I am really in awe of the way people live around here. And no one is there to complain if u ask me. Well that’s all we did for that day.

The next day we again went to this bloody fellow’s job of doing some thing for his bike!! And then we again went to this bloody mall called Garuda or something. And then we waited there around an hour or a half. And that too just for that bloody vkh’s clothes and laptop to be bought by Shad. Anywho I never complained. And let me tell you this – Every time we got into some bloody mall, which actually I don’t like that much, I had to fish out 10 rupees. Every bloody single time. And if I were to go in some mall, I would go into it only once. And we went to these malls around 7 to 10 times. And this bloody fellow gave me the explanation that we were going to the mall just because I wanted to see around Bangalore. Shit this is Bangalore, I thought. This bloody place sucks big time. And then we did some shopping that day and that’s all we did. We visited another mall – Gopalan mall and also The Forum. This is what happens when people who haven’t seen anything other than Bangalore and some places in Kerala and other places take u around such places like Bangalore. I was glad that I hadn’t come a day earlier and that I was not leaving a day later. My bus was for around 9.45 in the night. It came as promised. And then 10 of us got into the bus and we had a very nice trip back to Calicut. I got a very spacious seat – 2 of them, and that too semi sleeper. I was so glad that I was listening to all the happy songs that I had in my Yepp player. Until we reached the outskirts of the city. It was one hell of a trip! And yeah it sucked big time. This would rate as one of the worst trips that I ever had in ma entire life. And people of Bangalore – I give it out to you, for the kind of life you live out there. You rock people! Really! That’s all and that’s the trip I had! Hope you enjoyed the ride!

Away

2008-07-10T13:13:00.003+05:30

Keeping aside,
Keeping alight
Running away
I lived alone

Away and around
Again and again
Life seemed bland
I stayed awake

Bright and light
My soul felt right
A plea a day
I kept quiet

Assumed and presumed
Absconded was I
Alive not I
Glad I was

I love you but i can't...

2008-06-20T23:58:00.007+05:30

(sometimes the worst things in life can come at the least expected times... even death is not but a solace)

Tess:

i kno wur ignorin me

u dont like me anymore

Tess:

u've got a new girl na?

Nishath:

who said that?

Tess:

i kno i know iknow

Nishath:

who said that i got a new gal?

Tess:

i know!!!!!!!!!

Nishath:

c'mon how can i even do that such a sweetheart?

Tess:

i know

coz im not good enuf...

Nishath:

are u trying to put baselses allegations upon me

Tess:

ur looin for other grls

Nishath:

where am i looing for other gals in?

c'mon now dont do this to me

after all these years

u want to end our relationship on a baseless piece of allegation?

i can't believe it tess

for all the trouble i am taking to come and meet u in mumbai

this is what i get

Tess:

u dont how bad those lonely yrs nishath

u were after money,,....n other grls...u forgot all the promises u made before mariiage

Nishath:

i was just trying to support you and your children

thats why i made money

and the girl part

Tess:

my chilsdren?

Nishath:

those were just rumours...

Tess:

now they r my children?

Nishath:

started off to make a rift between us

our children darling

our chidren...

Tess:

u were mad abt money u wanted only money n nothin else

Nishath:

more than anything i wanted u

and that is why i married u in the first place

i am planning to let go off everything just to be with u

Tess:

u completely ignored me wen u got the whiff of easy money

Nishath:

anything and everything

Tess:

ur lyin

Nishath:

tess let me tell u

Tess:

in know u are

Nishath:

money goes

money comes

right now i am so bankrupt

Tess:

glad u realized tgat

Nishath:

that it is ma friends who are helping me

they just want me to get out of here and come to u somehow

they know i love u that much

and u do the same back

Tess:

bankrupt? is tat y u bought that solitaire for suzie?

Nishath:

and that should suffice us for all these hardships

suzie's solitaire was just purchased by me

it was a gift from her husband

Tess:

who paid for it?

y did u purchase it>?

Nishath:

he just took me along to choose it

Tess:

the whole town is talkin abt u n her

Nishath:

he was bad at selection

i just help people

Tess:

n u never bothered to buy somethn for me

Nishath:

it is not my fault that ppl talk shit abt me behind ma back

i told u darling

i am leaving everything and coming back to u

Tess:

never came n sat wid me wen i really needed u

Nishath:

i will surely get u something

i am here for u whenever u want me

i am all yours

the only need for u is to utter a single word...

and i am there

Tess:

i dont want anythn

neither ur money or whtevr

its too late nishath

Nishath:

so u r seeing someone else huh?

i knew it

the moment u started the fight i knew it

i knew u wanted the divorce to happen

Tess:

no im not....do not even for a sec think im like u

Nishath:

all this drama just to get ma wealth

and u to run away with ur secret lover

i know u evil woman

Tess:

i cud have walked out any minut i wanted...but stayed coz i loved u.....

and hoped u'd come back

Nishath:

if u had loved me

u would be here with me

in my time of trouble

Tess:

i was thr....

Nishath:

but all u did was to allege me in having extra marital affairs

and all the bull

Tess:

ur accident...who took care of u?.......

Nishath:

why tess

why are u doing this to me

Tess:

u think i'll ever be able to love someone else?

Nishath:

dont u know how much i love u?

sorry tess

Tess:

u never showed it

Nishath:

i think it is time for me to leave

i think god is asking me to be with him

Tess:

sorry wont get a dead cat back to life

ur answerable to everythn i missed out on life

Nishath:

i think it's time i left the face of this world

no more shall i be a loser

Tess:

wat????

dont....

i love u nishath...

Nishath:

no more need i be of trouble to anyone

Tess:

cant live without u....

plz dont do somethn stupid

Nishath:

anything and everything that is mine is written on ur name

Tess:

i live for u

Nishath:

and the children

take care of them

Tess:

i dont want anythn...I WANT YOU

Nishath:

adieu my love...

adieu

Why?

2008-05-17T12:56:00.005+05:30

(Maybe she's gone through the same shit. A possible pardoxical expression of life for putting up with so much. My friend Mukz, at her best again...)

Why is it all about mistakes?
Will there ever be a world beyond?
Where love prevails and evil fails
Will there ever be a heaven on earth?

Will there be a man acknowledged
for being rich at heart and pure in soul?
With cures for heal and pity to feel
Will there ever be a heaven on earth?

Will there be a bird that flies
far in to the skies, far away from cries?
Without its wings folded, or clipped away
Will there ever be a heaven on earth?

by - Mukta Jayanth

When?

2008-05-17T12:48:00.002+05:30

It’s been long since I have written anything here. Maybe its high time I came back to being my old self. Well 2008 has been a mixed year for me all this while. Beginning October last year I though that I was having a dream run. The thing about dreams is, they don’t last long. In the same manner it did not last long enough for me. At the start of October, I had a job, had a gal who loved me to the deepest, ma dad was back home, happy family, everything seemed too perfect. Too perfect, like as if it was the calm before the storm. And just as it was predicted the storm arrived, in the process of me doing stupid things. Things have not been good ever since. And so, the run to 2008 has bought along everything and anything that can be classified as nothing less than failure. The will that stood by me when everything else seemed to be lost was also given up. There has not been a day that has seen me wake up to being a happy self.
My room’s in a mess. The fan needs cleaning. My tables messed up. If I am doing something, then it is on the computer, either browsing the net, chatting with my friends, listening to music, watching some sitcom, watching some movie or some other thing that is not gonna help me in the future in no matter what way possible. My food intake has also been messed up. Even though I tried to head to the gym, after ma mom head off to spend the holidays with ma dad, that has also taken a backstage. I don’t know where ma old self is. Like it’s said, lost in the annals of history somewhere, somehow. But there is also the option of going back someday. But the question still remains – when?

Food, Just Food...

2008-04-30T17:51:00.002+05:30

I come from a small town down south, in God’s Own Country, by the name of Calicut (also known as Kozhikode). This place may be known to the country as the place where Vasco De Gama landed or as of recently, one of the few places that has an IIM. To talk of, this place boasts of some of the best cuisines in the entire state. This place is known for its biriyani, banana chips, halwa and so many more. Each dish that is prepared around here has a story behind it, and to tell so, there are loads. And if you have not had enough, then I think you should head down more north of Kerala, to the French part and beyond – Mahe, Thalassery and Kannur.

But you can do that only after visiting this beautiful city of Calicut. And as you people are kinda the dhaba people, I have to suggest you this awesome place right next to where I live – Eranhipalam. I must have been to a lot of places in and around the southern states of India, but I can bet you that you will never have such food as you have from the dhabha opposite the Eranhipalam mosque. It doesn’t even have a name. But once it’s evening, then you can see loads of people around it. Maybe just to at least have a snack or tea. Their specialty lays in the dosas and the piece masalas (green pea’s sautéed with duck or chicken egg). But they also have other specialties like the chicken bondas (boiled potato stuffing), chicken pakodas and many more snacks here and there. Well that is one of the few places you can visit. Well I forgot to tell you, all these are on the highway as well.

Anywho, as I was saying, there is also the iconic Bombay restaurant, where even superstars of the Malayalam film industry go to eat. It is next to the beach and provides you with wide varieties of biriyanis – chicken, fish, beef and many more local delicacies. Then there is the Rahmath hotel, which has by far the best beef biriyani in town. And then I can cite as many places for you people to go to have different types of biriyanis. If you want to try out the seafood platter, I would like to mention to you people the Sea Queen restaurant as well as the Paragon restaurant. Also if you want to check out all the various Muslim Ramadan time delicacies, then I would ask you to please visit the Zain restaurant, which can also be found close to the beach. All these places are quite affordable, and within the common man’s budget. Did you know that the recipe behind the biriyani was got from the Arabs who used to come here to trade during olden times? If you are available, then you can see fresh fish being bought in from the sea, if you are early risers. There’s no stopping me if I continue. So I hope you people will be interested in this little town of ours. And you can still fill your stomach on the way, when you go more north, towards the Kasargod side or down south, towards the capital of Kerala. But if its food you are looking for, then I think I would ask you people to head north after Calicut.

Welcome Back!

2008-03-26T16:50:00.002+05:30

After days of whining about how somebody I likes is not giving me enough care and is going unnoticed on my condition, I think I really needed what I got yesterday. It was bro day for me. Ajmal, ma closest neighbour and pal for the past 7 years and myself went for an all out day. It started off with me getting some money to buy some long awaited wardrobe updation.

So instead of going to college, I went home, and did some work online, watched some movies, and then when it was afternoon, I headed off to Aju’s place. From there we went all around the brands available in Calicut city. In the end we ended up buying from Mega Mart. And since it was end of season sale, there was like massive sale on everywhere. So that was that. Again back home. Just to let the time pass, I was again on the net. And then evening came. We headed to the gym. And tell you, it was a strenuous work out.

Later we decided to go out to have some food at the ever so famous “Thattukada”. And we had our fill. We were discussing about how nowadays, no youth come to such places. The entire outlook had changed. Youth was into malls, food courts, pubs and dance floors. While we still relied on the occasional “Thattukada”, the beach, the wind and just some hang out, that’s all.
After filling ourselves, we decided to go to the beach. But we made a small stop at Coffee Beanz to have some coffee before that. And a few moments later there we were, sitting on the brach, smoking away. It was a bro to bro moment, and the day was done after that.

After the smoke, it was back home. Just made me miss all the time, when there were a lot of people who genuinely cared for you. All I had to sing to myself then was John Sebastian’s song –

Welcome back
Your dreams were your ticket out
Welcome back
To that same old place that you laughed about
Well the names have all changed since you hung around
But those dreams have remained and they've turned around
Who'd have thought they'd lead ya
(who'd have thought they'd lead ya)
Back here where we need ya
(back here where we need ya)
Yeah, we tease him a lot 'cause we got him on the spot
Welcome backWelcome back, welcome back, welcome back
Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back

The Date: 26th December 2004

2008-03-22T22:53:00.006+05:30

Little Raju was asleep in his little cot in the sleepy little town of Velankanni in Tamil Nadu. The time: 5.30am. Mother Thresia was up and awake to go for the morning prayers. She slept beside the 30-40 other children in the orphanage of mother Velankanni. She loved all of God's children. But she likes Raju the best. It was not because he was the most innocent of them all; it was only because he was the youngest of them all. He was 7 years old. And he had been living in this orphanage for the past 7 years. This meant that he was left to his own; from the time he arrived on mother earth.

The town was coming to life. It was the day after Christmas, and there was no lack of bustle. The fishermen were gathering their nets and getting ready to leave their loved ones behind and go and live with their second mother at sea. The time: 6.30am. Raju had risen, brushed his teeth, combed his hair and even finished prayers with his other friends at the orphanage. Little Raju liked living in the orphanage. He never felt isolated. He had all the love he ever needed. He also liked Mother Thresia very much. Raju decided to go and play. Since there was no one as young as him in the orphanage, he went all alone to the beach and started playing with the sand.

The time: 7.29am. Mother was calling from the distance asking Raju to come and have his breakfast. Raju never disobeys. So he listens to mother Thresia's orders and goes as fast as possible and has his breakfast. It was the meager one, but it was all they could have. Raju never complained about the food or about the amount of anything he received. He received very little, since the orphanage could offer only little. After the breakfast, Raju runs back to his favorite spot on the beach- A secluded area covered with shells. So again Raju begins to play Alone.

The time 8.23. Raju feels bored. He has had enough of playing with the shells, sand and water. That was when raju noticed something strange with the beach. All the fishermen had left for the sea. This was a usual site. But there was something that caught Raju's eyes. He looked around. There were seagulls and other sea birds, of which he didn’t even know the name coming away from the sea, calling each other in their own specific reverberation. This was strange and it had not occurred ever before in his short time of two years he had spent in the beach playing. Also he noticed that the crabs were hurrying away from their homes beneath the sand and were heading inland. A small crab even scurried over his legs. But Raju did not budge. He decided to go back to the orphanage. He was getting scared. He wanted to see mother. He wanted to be in her hands and may be even go to sleep in her lap.

The time: 9.00am. Raju cannot find mother. He goes on roaming all around the orphanage. That was when sister Daisy told him that mother Thresia had gone along with father Marcos to see an ailing patient. Raju was frightened but he did not want to show it out to anyone else other than mother Thresia. Gathering up all the courage that was left in him, he decides to head back to the beach. Little Raju reaches his secluded little place and decides to build something with the sand. But then his eyes wander of to the distance of the sea. Something was eating up the sea. All the waves were disappearing. The bed of sea was coming into site. Raju moved a step or back. He looked at the astonishing site and spoke out none. He wanted to know who had eaten up the sea. So he stepped forward and brought out his hand and held it above the eye, so that he could see as far as possible. He moved forward slowly. That was when he saw something huge making its way back on to the beach at very high speed: A WAVE. A wave so tall that he had never seen anything like it ever before. He decides to run and hide in the church, for mother had always told him that, if you are ever in doubt or if ever you are in need in help, ask to the Lord and he shall provide. But the tiny feet took its last few steps, and then…………………………..

The time: 10.00am. The town that was, didn’t seem to exist. The water had swept away all and spared none. Lord had helped none and punished all. The beach was gone, its people ruined. And as for little raju, the lord had him in his hands.

The Phoenix

2008-02-27T17:28:00.003+05:30

More than a heart's despair,
More than a lover's misfortune,
This mortal has indulged,
In what immortals even dare not.

Treading paths of love and hate,
At the doors, the mere human met
To meet
But nothingness

He cant remember,
Oblivion shrouded for now
The less he strived,
The more he pained

Receding,
Day by day,
Bit by bit,
Soul by soul

I wish he burn,
Rather suffer
And rise the phoenix
That he is.

Work - A Retrospect

2008-02-19T15:13:00.003+05:30

I've been working at a web development company for th past four months. But it took me a hartal day (bandh or strike as it is called elsewhere) to understand the meaning of being a part of the workforce. It was a nice time at office today, with only a few of them showing due to no transport facilities. I finished off my work at the earliest and was browsing through the net, chatting with the co-workers, writing on the new white board (where the employees are allowed to write anything motivational) and then the lunch. We were out in the sun looking for a restaurant and we took the one immediately behind our office building. Even though the food is a little dry, it took me great pleasure to be dining with my colleagues at work. Sometimes, the happiest things in life happen due to the slightest of reasons. And this is one time where i have been to feel it so. Glad that life is as it is now!

Mischief Helps

2008-02-13T16:34:00.001+05:30

This took place during our final term of our eleventh standard in India. The year would be around March 2005. The final exams were just around the corner and all were quite engrossed in books and stuff. But not us three – Fathima, Anis and myself. We were the three inseparable stooges of our class. No, not just the class, but the school.

Anis and myself wanted to go to Fathima’s home since long. She had a lunch to give us, which was long overdue. And Fathima being a good friend of ours decided to invite us to her house (after waiting for almost half the year). Her mom is preacher and takes classes frequently outside her home. And then the expected day arrived
We had our final exams going on at the time of this unforgettable experience. And the next day the exam was chemistry. Oh what with all the organic chemistry to learn who would go into learning chemistry. Fath’s mom left for her classes in the afternoon to some distant place. Fath seizing the opportunity invited us over to her home. She lived with just her mom and her maid. The rest of her family was in Saudi Arabia. She was the only one studying in India. At first she struck a deal with her maid Zeenath as to allowing us to get into the house with her mom knowing nothing about it. Fath had to allow Zeenath to watch T.V., that’s all. And so the deal was finalized. Zeenath even prepare fried rice for us.

Us, anis and myself were scared to our very inner beings at the prospect of going to a girl’s home without either of her parents knowing. But we accepted the challenge and left for Fath’s home by1 in the afternoon. Anis came to pick me up on his Honda bike and we bought some refreshments and headed unto Fath’s home.

Fath quickly ushered us in as Zeenath hurried to take in our shoes (no clues should be left behind). So we entered Fath’s home at last. We had lunch (mmmm…the fried rice did taste real good), played monopoly, watched movies and had a lot of fun. We didn’t know how the time went by us. Suddenly the time was 4. it had been three hours since we had arrived here. The topic of our talk shifted from fun to our chemistry exam. As soon as I heard chemistry, I immediately went to Fath’s room and took her chemistry text and started reading from it. The other two did not join in. They started discussing about as to how they could bunk the exam next day. They kept giving suggestions, like Fath went – ‘ How about putting your head in the water and then standing under the fan?’, I told them the fact about cold and that one can’t catch a cold like that. Then Anis said that it was enough that one sprained their arm to keep them stay back at home for at least a day. I was still looking into the chemistry book while these two plotted their own disappearance tomorrow. Fath decided to sprain her arm. But she couldn’t do it on her own. She asked Anis to do it for her. And when he was about to twist her hand, we heard the horn – Fath’s mom! She was back. Aaagghhhh!!! We started to panic. But Zeenath had it all under control. She asked us to move to the backdoor, and wait for her signal. Fathima quickly went and opened the gate for her mother, while we went to the backdoor and hid behind the well. Our shoes were already kept there. As soon as Fath’s mom entered the house Zeenath gave us the signal and we quickly took on to the front of the house while Fath kept her mom busy. After that we left the place and headed back to our respective homes.
After some time all of us were again online on the phone, in conference. Each had their own mobile. Fath and Anis kept talking about how to bunk classes. I just kept giving my comments on each plan. Finally the decision was taken. I was sent to the pharmacy by these two people to enquire as to whether anything would happen if someone takes in a little dose of washing powder. I enquired and they said that it’s quite a trip to the toilet. So Anis and Fath decided to get upset stomachs to bunk the exams the next day. So at 9 that night, we were again on conference. After the plan I had sat down to study, whilst these two were having a ball by just thinking about the plan. We spoke to each other as the two dank two tablespoons of washing powder with water. Fath vomited the first time, but then she took courage and drank again. That was the night. We had to wait until the next morning to see if something would go wrong with each others stomachs.

You must be thinking that they must be going to the bathroom now and then. That was not the case. Nothing happened to both of them. They had no sorts of effects with the intake of washing powder. I was getting tensed out here about what I had learned and not, while they were now acting sick with their parents, telling them all sorts of ‘I-just made-that-up’ type of pains. As has to be with concerned parents, they were asked not to go to the school in that condition. I was the only one among us three who went to write the exam. But to my relief the headmistress called the two at their respective homes and said that they have to write the exams and go. So Anis came 2 hours later, wrote 1 or 2 questions out of 15 and left. Fath came an hour later and wrote anything she knew (which was limited).

So the exams were all over. Anis and Fath’s ‘bunk-the-exam’ plan had failed. I wrote the exams as much as they wrote, but didn’t try to act my way out of the exams. But the irony of it all comes out in the end – d-day – the results. When the results came out, guess who had to take a retest in that subject? Me! While the other two – Anis and Fath passed out without any trouble. Looks like mischief making can get you somewhere. Unfortunately I decided against it that day. And they enjoyed their holidays while I had to learn for my retest in chemistry. Oh, the irony!

Alone/ alone and all all alone

2008-01-22T20:17:00.000+05:30

(This poem was written by a close friend of mine, of whom i became really possessive. Maybe this poem will tell you how it happened to be)

And once I knew a certain someone
Who stood alone/ alone and all alone
And though he had many a friends
It always looked like he was making amends

And once I knew a certain someone
Who stood by corners all day long
And when the night would stir along
He would sing his woe-filled song

And once I knew a certain someone
Who saw right through a persons lie
But what the others didn’t know
Was that his was lie that would never show

And once I knew a certain someone
Who conquered all that he came across
But little did he know just then
Someone was coming to conquer his den

And do once I knew a certain someone
Who believed in all but him
But when she came passing by
He was elated but didn’t know why

Once I knew a certain someone
Who smiled at every word I said
But possession took the better of him
And guilt but filled him to the brim

And once I knew a certain someone
Who took his last breath and cried to me
‘I loved to the I could
And gave you the best of what I am’

And now I know certain someone
Who stood alone/ alone and all all alone
Thinking many may come and many may go
But this dream will live on forever

And so now I know a certain me
Who’s under a mask that no one can see
But little as they know I’m alone as can be
Alone, alone all all alone and the world to see
Now I know a certain me
Whose just as alone as me

- By Mukta Jayanth Kumar

Revert

2008-01-07T16:55:00.000+05:30

My armour
Has lost its shine
Gone are the days
Of glory untold

There used to be times
When one was missed
But now it changed
When you ain’t even known

The charismatic figure
Has sunken itself
To become no less
But a Charlie in himself

They came
Time and again
For a glimpse
And away they went

But those were the days
When they could not
And to come none at all
Was indeed rare

So here I am
My chaplet dethroned
None are gone
Yet I stand alone

For my armour
Has lost its shine
And gone are the days
Of glory untold

Beginning the new year with a BANG

2008-01-01T17:45:00.000+05:30

Well, each of you must have had a rather fun filled arrival into the new year. Me too had something similar, just underlining the fact that the bang was with a pedestrian who did not know how to cross the street. I picked up my friend from her place just a few moments back. And then we were on our way to do some birthday shopping. On the way in a complete 90 degree turn, i went and crashed into a guy. And then his hand was run over by a car tyre. They pulled the car back. And i was in my full fury. The guy was shouting at me, as if he did not know to cross at such interjunctions and that too when cars were moving from three different directions. But being as i am, i took him immediately to the hospital, dressed his wounds, gave him injection and even took him out for a drink. And also took him back to his place. the guy was not able to argue with me after this. I think he understood his mistake, and said, "Thank you", while i dropped him at his place. Sometimes i think this world is not completely lost of humanity. But there were his friends waiting for him at his place. I told them that everything was solved between us, and the guy himself restrained them from coming towards me. And then i sped of, knowing of one fact - i was actually hurt, and if i did not lie with my head tilted upwards, my nose would surely start bleeding. And here i am at my office, sitting before writing this live news staring up at the ceiling for almost an hour. So, folks, crackers did not do it for me, a broken nose, a show of respect and some birthday shopping still pending creates my new year start.

To Love Or Not To

2007-12-31T13:14:00.000+05:30

Relationships are quite difficult to handle. Instead of being held onto a relation, it is better that we appreciate our singleness for the moment. I thought the other way round for the past few days, but after a very good talk with one of my close friends, i've understood better and i think that i am beginning to enjoy life after all. There are so many places to go to, so many people to meet, so many things to do. When you are committed to somebody, it might be a tad too little difficult for you to do all these things. In one way or the other you have to be in a relation later in a life. Why spoil all the fun as of now. One should look forward to living life at it's best and with the liberty that you have everything to look forward to. There should not be any constraints no matter what. Maybe you might regret later in life, asking - "What the hell was i doing when i should have been single?". So better not make yourself ask that question.

Maybe You Loved Too Much

2007-12-29T12:46:00.000+05:30

Some people love so much that they expect something back for all the love they've got. Before i go on, i would ask each and everyone of you to let youreslves know that love is better given than received. It is better to love all, than to be loved by none. I hope you get the meaning. Everyone has their approach for life. And i warn you people - if you expect the expected, then you are bound to be disappointed. Expect the unexpected, it will help you from the initial shock. Some say that one does not need to let the other know that they love you. They make you feel so. It's true. But the point is - don't worry about what you get. Give your love as if it has no bounds. You get, then you are lucky. You don't, then better still. At least you've made yourself love someone. You get to be a better person. A much better person. And if you fret that someone ain't loving you - then you are wrong. Maybe it's only because you loved too much and you are expecting the same back. Love all, but don't make the world say, "Maybe you loved too much".

The Power of Failure

2007-12-14T17:06:00.000+05:30

And then when u think all is right, looks like there is something missing from life. I've had my share of failures and success. But what each one has taught me is that there is always more you can do to improve yourself. Yesterday i went and apologized to a friend whom i had pestered for quite some time. And i actually felt good about it. I am the kind of person who gets angry very easily and after yesterday it seemed like i could actually be more of human than of the beast i am at the moment with most of the people around me. Life can take you places, show you things and even make you smile. But then again it can also teach you all at the same time. Maybe i am not the person who should be saying this at all. But then again, there could be no better person.

ONLY ONE ADVICE : Never get into a KSRTC

2007-09-13T12:35:00.000+05:30

At the fabled marine drive in Kochi!!

Rare non motorcycle diary:

Kochi – The Queen of Arabia

The day started off as usual. Nothing much to do. Pretty much the usual college going day. PMG, one of our teachers told us that there would be a workshop in the evening where we would have to teach the newcomers how to make paper bags at the eco club. And that is what we actually did – we were making paper bags, and instead of the required 25 bags (as there were only 25 newcomers) we made almost around 40 or something bags. Anywho in the middle of all this, I receive a message. But I was too busy teaching all these people how to make paper bags (and the fact that I had forgotten how to make paper bags made me more interested in the bags than anything else). But my phone has the habit of sending me alerts every ten minutes. And then after the last bag, I looked at my phone and guess what – it was my best friend – Anusha!!! She was really missing me out there and she needed somebody to give her some company and she asked me as to whether I could make it to Kochi the next day. I called her up and she was quite glad that I did. But then she had a kind of guilty feeling. She didn’t want to disturb me. But I got real tough with her. I asked her to think it over and asked to her after half an hour that as to whether I should come tomorrow. And she said – YES!!!!

Well, now begins the part where I’ve got to use my head. Now if I were to tell my mom that I was going to Kochi to meet up with Anusha, she would not kill me, but she would surely guess that I’ve got some ‘chakkar’ going on with Anusha. If my dad was here, he would have understood better. By de by, Anusha likes my dad better. Yeah, so I decided to use the usual lie and escape treatment. I bought in my accomplice for the crime – Harish. I told him that he should tell my mom that we were going for a tour to Athirapilly waterfalls. And it worked, except for the fact that my brother tried to disturb the trip by discouraging Harish a little!!! But that was not to happen!!! And then I went and booked the Volvo bus to Kochi at the KSRTC bus station. And then I left for Harish’s place to stay over for the night! And there I was at Harish’s place talking to everyone on his phone, which has unlimited free calls to all Airtel numbers within the state!!! Talked to his girlfriend Jisha, Fath, Adu and loads of others!

Anyways that was just the night. I got up early in the morning and then saying bye to his family, Harish dropped me at the KSRTC (the state run bus service of Kerala – the Kerala Road Transport Corporation) bus station, from where I got into the Volvo A/C bus to Kochi. Now funny thing – just within an hour and a half to our journey, we broke down at this place before Kunnamkulam!!! And bloody the conductor didn’t even refund our money (which we found out only after coming to Calicut). Anywho we were ushered into a fast passenger bus (which did not have A/C) and taken to Thrissur! We had to wait at the bus station over there, until the nest fast passenger to Thiruvananthapuram came there, and then we were ushered into that bus! (It was one of the worst bus rides I had ever got into) (And the fact that I was getting such a service after paying Rs. 206 is what eats my head!!). Anywho, I suffered it all since I really wanted to see Anusha and she too wanted to see me real badly!!! And then panting and sweating, I knew I had reached the cosmopolitan city of Kochi, since the bus as no more moving at the usual pace and you are encountered by a traffic signal every now and then!!! And the fact that it was sweltering hot and that you also got a headache helps in the fact that you knew you were in this city which I don’t like too much!!! Anywho, next on I dropped myself off at the Kaloor bus station and then caught the next bus to Marine Drive, that’s where the Bay Pride Mall is situated and that’s where Anu is gone be!!! And then again I reached there at a snail’s pace!!! After almost an hour I was at my destination and then it was all normal after that!!

There was my friend, let me correct that again, my best friend, Anusha going through hoards of cards in the Archie’s Gallery on the first floor of bay pride mall. I wanted to hug her as soon as I saw her. But it was all different than I had imagined it. There was no hugging, only the usual ‘hi’, ‘was sup’ and the following. We immediately got out of the shop and we were like where should we go to have lunch. We had quite a few options and then we decided on the food court in Bay Pride Mall. And so there we were sitting on a table for four, waiting for our order of burgers, fries and Pepsi. We talked for a quite a while and we ate (or rather Anusha ate so slowly) that we finished our lunch only in around an hour and a half i guess. Anywho, after that we talked more and then Anusha went and ordered the Joey’s chocolate cake (I had named it Joey’s chocolate after watching an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S in which Joey eats this totally sumptuous chocolate cake with so much chocolate all over it that your water starts watering almost immediately as you see it). Anywho enough of making your mouth water already. So after that we decided to buy each other gifts and we were again in Archie’s Gallery. While she bought me something, I was outside getting money from the ATM. And then I went in and bought her a gift – a book titled – “101 reasons why I love you”. I know it’s kinda cheesy, but let me tell you, this place from where we are buying all this is damn-damn-damn (yeah three times damn) expensive. I was lucky that I found that book at a reasonable price. So after carrying each other’s gifts we decided to take a walk on the marine drive. And we walked and we walked and we talked and we talked. I wanted to take some pics of hers, so I went on clicking my (actually ma friend Nawab’s) camera again and again. In the end I decided that a video would do me better. So I took a video. And in the meantime, we exchanged our gifts and you should have seen what she got me – a cute little huggable teddy. It was totally adorable and I am glad that she thought of me the first time she saw it. It gives you a feeling that someone actually does like you after all. Anywho by the time all this happened, time had passed by so quickly, yet so slowly that it was time for the bye byes. We caught the bus to the railway station and she sat with me till I reached the station. (Yeah people no more KSRTC’s for me). I took the ticket to Calicut for the executive. And as usual the train was way beyond its normal arriving time. So at around five it came around, and then it was the way back!!!!

Anywho, once again I am in this one hell of a train. It’s so crowded that I am able to keep only one foot at the place where I am standing. But after three or four stops, things eased a bit, until we reached this station called Shoranur. Now Shoranur is this junction from where trains are passed to two different tracks of railway lines in Kerala, and usually trains stop there around for at least ten minutes. So I thought, why not go and have some ‘vada’ and ‘chutney’. I had my fill, and I was buying a bottle of water and drinking when guess who comes along? My cousin (who is very close to my big bro), and I was like – “shit, all my planning is down the drain”. But being as diplomatic as I could, I totally veered away from where I had been to with the conversation with him. And he moved on, as he was in some bogies down my bogey. And whilst I was drinking my water, I heard a familiar sound go off in the distance. And before I knew it, the train was moving. There was this mad rush for people to get into the train, that somehow I got one leg in, and then the other, and all the time hanging to the side bars on the edge of the door, and before I knew it, I was sandwiched in between the people who were trying to get in and the other people who were not pushing into the bogey as they should have. Somehow as the train gathered speed we were slowly finding ourselves reaching the inside of the bogey. A lot of people fussed about this and then again we were back to the normal rush hour within the train. And then immediately after this we had a scuffle in our bogey between an alcoholic and a drug addict. But as they say Indians tolerate much, but after a while they react. And they did this time too. They shut both the intoxicated men and it was back to peace.

at the station

At around 9.30 we reached the Calicut Railways station. Harish had come to pick me up. And from there I traveled to the KSRTC to see if I would get a refund from y wasted Volvo bus trip!! And surprise surprise….looks like the conductor had to pay us after all. So there went my 206 rupees down the drain. Never again would I get into a KSRTC after that (but if somebody else’s is eager to take me a ticket I wouldn’t mind that), but otherwise the point of writing this whole blog – I know that India can be quite a scary place to come down and have a holiday and stuff. But then again we are not so bad. We are people with heart. They say man is an extortionist, and we ain’t nothing more than that man. But whatever comes, in the end you have the adventure you were looking for. And that’s exactly what I had in this single day. Then again I have just one advice for you people who are coming down to Kerala to do – Never ever try (yeah, don’t even try) to get into a KSRTC. That’s all and that’s what it is all about!!!