My Family of Friends

Dedicated to all my friends and Aswini for all the mental madness we went through together.

My life means a lot to me.

Not because I love my life,

But because I love the people like you in my life

The world says they are called ‘Friends’

I call them my ‘WORLD’

Friends; Pick up any dictionary and the meaning states ‘associates, acquaintances, links or contacts. My set of friends’ did not feature in any of the categories above. They were my FAMILY. We lived together, fought bitterly, made up after that and still love each other fondly.

Image Courtesy Google Images

We all have friends. It’s very rare for someone to not have a friend. Even the loneliest of loners would admit that they have had at least one person come up and talk to them in their lonely life. Friends make you do things that you wouldn’t have thought of doing yourself. They also bitch and make you do things that you feel ashamed of later.

I have managed to have a good set of friends’ right from my childhood days. The ones that were inconsequential were slowly erased from my memory as I grew older. However, I attracted a unique set of friends from all walks of life, castes, gender and levels of madness. The first group I’m going to talk about is what you would call “Chaddi Buddies.”

Chaddi Buddies:

Pampers, powder, petting and puff. The 4P’s for toddlers. At the mention of these words, fathers get up and running, searching for the stuff that sound more like Greek and Latin otherwise. I had the fortune to be introduced to some of the lovely young mothers who cuddled me non stop. My mother sensing my discomfort relieved me from one of the young mothers and we left the nursery as one happy family.

I grew up in Mumbai (erstwhile Bombay) in a colony with a lot of kids. My memory is not that good to remember those early days of childhood but soon enough when I was three, I moved to a nice area called Andheri (E). My fondest memories have been over here. My first friend in this new place was a small little boy who looked like a little monkey. His name was Yogesh.

Being the son of a Police Officer, he was brought up in strict discipline, but adhering to the rules laid down by his father never bothered him. The two of us would climb water tanks, heckle at the security guards everyday, fight with the kids from the other compound and at six in the evening, go to the temple next to our colony where the Pujari would give us Tamarind (Imli). Those days were fun.

We would play cricket in the field next to our house, swim in the gutter to fetch the ball, get back home black as coal and listen to our mothers’ about the dangers of the gutter water and the hazardous things in there. We weren’t bothered about that. We enjoyed each and every day together without a care in the world. Along with us, there was another kid by the name of Dheeraj with his elder brother Ramesh. We would play football in the mud during the monsoon season too.

When I moved to Bahrain after staying in the colony for 3 years, I had tears in my eyes. I did not want to leave this place which had given me such a memorable time. There were dreams of a new life for me elsewhere. My father sensing my sadness assured me that we would always come back to our house every year during summer vacations so I could enjoy with my friends once again. With those words, I bid adieu to my Chaddi Buddies and moved on to my next group of friends – “School Friends.”

School Friends:

My schooling years passed by very quickly without much thought. There were only a few people out there who really made a difference. Few of the people who I had a good bonding with were Paul, the twins Floyd and Fletcher, Githin and Godwin. The six of us used to move around like a small rat pack. Always up to no good and rarely getting caught for the trouble we created. I say rat and not wolf because we could squeak away without being noticed after our usual bouts of madness.

Our formative years were involved in the constant talks of video games, movies and technology. Each day would begin with the talk of a new application that came out in the market and our collective opinion would be taken on how the market would react to it. Neither of us earned enough pocket money to go and buy any of those applications but we dreamed big.

I was the only one among the rest who had friends of the opposite sex yet, the fun that I had with my rat pack was a whole lot crazier and I could never compare it to any of the girls that I had spent time with. I miss these guys a lot when I think about them but all of us move on right? During this time, I also had another set of friends and these are my “Bus Friends.”

Bus Friends:

When you’re bored of the madness in the school, the school bus is your throne, where you reign over the less inconsequential ones and administer all types of punishment on them. Now, I’m not as bad as I sound, but my best friend Tapas and I did rag (bully) quite a few of the gullible ones in our bus. We were kept away from each other for a good reason by the teachers in our bus and for a good reason it was too as we kept plotting on who our next victim would be. Over time, we kept talking new things and doing new things that people used to keep blasting us.

There used to be people counter plotting against us but they could never match up to our genius. This time spent in the bus, from home to school and back was some of the most wonderful times we spent. The only time we would shut up was during the exams when all of us would be busy studying, trying to cram every bit of information that we could before we were sent to the gallows. It took me a good few years of enjoyment before school life was over for me and I was led to the gates of a college to forge a new chapter in my life. And thus, enter, the “College Friends.”

College Friends:

If you’ve thought that you’ve had fun all this while; you’re wrong. The fun is just about to start mates. And it gets crazier every minute. I would love to go on about this in detail but that story will just have to come out another day because it’s that special . My three years in college were a mixture of so many emotions that sometimes it was quite overwhelming for me. My college life was over and I was swept into the corporate world wave and this is where I met a unique set of friends who I’d like to call, “Work / Extended College Friends.”

Work / Extended College Friends:

When I was small, I used to see dad coming back from work stuffing his briefcase to the side and rubbing his temples while mum prepared a nice hot cup of tea to soothe his aching nerves and I used to wonder, that maybe, work is cut out for only the parents and no one else. It had a kind of prerequisite to it; you need to be married and over thirty to work etc. Little did I know that I would be twenty-one and start to work at a place with people of my own age group. Nice!

It was a whole new level of Wow for me since I thought that I would be totally sad about college getting over and I’m not going to meet my friends ever again. Now, I was going to work with some of them and this was going to be one hell of a ride. Nothing changed between us friends. We rocked the work and rocked even harder on the weekends. It also became my second family as I was spending close to 9 hours a day with them every day.

Life after Work:

This can be a painful phase to tell you the truth. Some people treat work as their bread and butter, while some, their passion. I treated it with passion. But somewhere down the line I knew that in order for me to proceed further in life, I was going to have to sever some ties to build new ones and I cut off the umbilical cord binding me to my work. I was never going back there.

For those of you, who’ve spent a good part of their lives at work, you will be able to understand this perfectly. For others, no matter how much you work hard at your job, there will be a day when you will have to stand face to face with it and ask yourself if you and job is progressing together. If you both aren’t on the same level, then amendments need to be made. Fast! When Life + Work = Happiness, it means, you’ve achieved what you’ve been looking for all along.

Hopefully, you’ve still got friends to call your own when this day comes. I’ve been blessed all my life with friends like these and I wish the same for you.

Cheers

Dreaming of Reality

I keep dreaming at times about missing a certain train. I don’t know where it’s headed and why I’m running towards it. But yet, the image of that train is still quite vivid in my head, banging against my temples as I fight the urge to get rid of that thought.

Somehow, I have a feeling about where I’m supposed to be going. Somehow, I can see the path ahead of me, yet I’m afraid to step onto that path because it might change me into a different person.

Do I willingly want to change? No. Am I being forcefully pushed into something that I’m not sure I want to do? No. Well, in all fairness, I do want to be a better person. But does change have to drive a person to the edge of the cliff, not understanding what is going through him all the while?

Sometimes, it’s easier to wake up than dream about reality.

The Education Drone

As I’m listening to the song, ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ – Pink Floyd, the line that catches my attention goes like ‘We don’t need no education,’ and I’m amused to point out that even though this may be a popular school / college rebel anthem, it doesn’t diminish the fact that education is required now more than ever before. A person in the 50’s – 80’s era would not have had the access or facilities to the educational system of the 21^st century that we enjoy currently. Learning new things daily has become a priority for so many of us as we deal with newer challenges every day of our lives. It is important that we continue to dream big and aspire to reach heights no one has scaled before and now we can do that. With the advent of search engines like Google, Ask and Bing, searching for information on the internet has been brought to our screens in a matter of seconds. Reference Sites such as Wikipedia hosts a plethora of information on almost every topic known to man, and if it has not been created, you could request for it to be.

It is not only a moral but also a social responsibility to educate ourselves. We may never know where our road takes us, but we can definitely pave the way for a better, brighter future. We have the machines, the technology and the intelligence to put a dog in space. I think we can use just a little bit of that intelligence to make ourselves a little more educated about the world around us. Ignorance is truly bliss, but not when you get stumped when someone asks you, “What are the seven wonders of the world?” or “Who is the President of the United States of America?” Understandably, a third of the population is not able to read / write in the world today and who is to blame? No one but ourselves. I must applaud the current generation of parents though. They may have had a hard life and braved many obstacles but they do not want their kids to go through the same thing that they went through. They encourage them to read, to learn, to see the world and explore new avenues, not to feel bad about their situation but to make it work for them. A lot of the kids nowadays take it in their stride to see the happiness brewing from their parents’ eyes when they win a medal or go off to a good college, something which the parents’ themselves could not achieve.

So, let’s make a constant effort to be better people, to know the other person, to understand the world around us, to be respectful of the values and history of different races and more importantly, to never stop learning.

My Life as a Paying Guest

November 2008:

I’ve been living in Bangalore for the last eight years now and it has been a whirlwind of a journey. I came to Bangalore as a raw student fresh from senior school with dreams and aspirations of making it big in this wonderful city. Little did I realize at the time that I was entering a maze of what would seem like an eternity. Being a fresher to almost everything, I thought I would adjust quite well to my life of independence; however I was not left free for long.

My uncle decided that he would move in to take care of me so I would have a home to come back to and food on the table when I was hungry. I stayed with my uncle for the three years of my college life. We had our ups and downs but we got through just fine. After a while, mom and dad decided to buy a place in Mangalore, hence uncle decided to move there to take care of the flat and this is where I begin my foray into the paying guest world.

Stage 1: Finding the place

It was a cold winter’s day and I was wandering on the lonely roads of Indiranagar. I fell in love with this place from the very first instance. I knew that this was where I wanted to stay. I located a broker like so many of us do and entrusted him the job of finding a nice place so I could move in and start my life as an independent young Financial Accountant for Hewlett-Packard.

The broker had taken me to a couple of shabby places. They always show the worst first before displaying their prize collection. I had seen this house a couple of times and I had always wondered how nice it would be to live in a house like this. Somehow, I never pictured this to be a PG. In we walk with our arms outstretched reveling in the splendid creation standing before us.

As I walk in, I’m amused by the irony of how big it looks outside compared to the size inside. True to most Bangalorean owners, maximum space was utilized here making the place look like it can hold a lot more people. Well, I wasn’t concerned with that. My main concern was to have a nice proper lighting, clean water and access to hot water. Along with that, I got a TV in my room, 24 hours hot water, fridge and a trendy washing machine. No looking at any more places. This was going to be my home for the unforeseen future. I discussed the rent with the owner and though I did consider it high at that point, I did not want to leave Indiranagar. So I paid the requisite amount and started making arrangements to move in.

Stage 2: Moving in

Moving into a new place was the least of my worries. Packing; now there’s the problem. It’s not easy to pack an entire 3 year set of clothes in two bags. It takes a lot of patience; something which guys don’t have. We never like to see the work getting done and then enjoying the fruits of it. No, we like to enjoy before, during and after the work is done, which is why we never finish anything on time. Try asking a guy to get paint the fence or mow the lawn. He’s going to start his tantrums as soon as he hears the word ‘work’ or ‘task’. Once he puts his mind to it though, you can expect a masterpiece. In my case, it wasn’t an art but the sheer willpower to pack clothes neatly in one bag and then going through the whole rigmarole of unpacking was becoming a big pain. I chose to do it nevertheless.

It took me almost an entire day to pack all my clothes, my utilities and other stuff which I’m not going to bore you with. With a nice chilled beer in my hand, I called up the owner of the PG and told him that I would be moving in tomorrow. I was all happy and with that, I called it a night. Moving from one place to another was never a problem for me. I was in touch with a very enterprising person by the name of Imtiaz who had organized the movement of my personal effects from time to time. Helpful as always, he said he would send his men straight away to help me move my things to the new place. A steel cupboard, a study table, two big bags of clothes, my guitars and my trusty steed – read motorbike, moved into our new home. This was the beginning of some beautiful memories, I thought as I stepped into the house and my room.

Stage 3: Meet the Roomies

‘What’s up dude?’ You know you’re in a boy’s PG when the people greet you with a ‘What’s up.’ What a nice way to start your first conversation. I can’t imagine an opening to a conversation these days between kids and youth alike that don’t start with ‘What’s up.’ ‘Well,’ I go, ‘My name is Sheldon. What’s yours?’ ‘My name is Vedant’ replied Mr. ‘What’s up.’ That was my first friend in the PG. As I start unpacking and loading the clothes into my cupboard, I see that there’s another bed vacant right next to me. I was going to share it with two strangers. Hmmm! I’ve always had a room of my own since I can remember and here I am sharing a room with strangers. I had heard stuff like PG’s were the worst place to stay. Rumors used to float around about the constant abuse of drugs, drinking and pornography – not necessarily in that order. I chose to keep my cool and see for myself what it was like. I was a mama’s boy without any doubt, but my dad had made me self-sufficient and rely on my instincts, traits I still admit I’ve picked it up quite well from daddy dearest. This PG did not house any smart alecs so I was pretty satisfied that I had picked up a proper place.

It’s 10PM now and I’m wondering what to do. It’s my first night at the PG and you can’t sleep. There’s always a nagging thought at the back of your mind that something nasty’s going to happen to you, but it wasn’t the case. I had an amazing sleep that night and woke up fresh on a Saturday, something that had not happened in a long time. I got up and brushed my teeth, took a shower and combed my hair for the very first time in my new home. I felt good.

As soon as I step out of the shower, four monkeys – literally come howling into the room shouting “breakfast.” They see me standing there gaping at their outburst, say their hi – hello’s and continue their circus antics. I walk out of the room obviously surprised by their behavior and was walking out to get some breakfast myself when Changu, Mangu, Pinku and Dinku invited me over to have breakfast with them. I flatly refused stating that I had to get some work done and hobbled away from the scene as fast as I could. After a wonderful breakfast, I came back home and see the four monkeys playing a game of cards – Bluff.  It took me awhile to get used to the terminology but I understood what they were doing and it was fun watching them tear each other apart when it came to a wrong bluff. I took out a nice book to read and was quite engrossed in it when Changu wanted to get more acquainted. He started asking me a whole lot of questions and the rest followed suit. I didn’t want to sound rude after my morning behavior so I just played along and answered each question of theirs patiently. As the day went by, we got to know each other pretty well. The fact that we were from two ends of India didn’t bother us at all. When it comes down it, whether you’re an Idli or a Roti lover, you’re an Indian and that’s the connection that people share.

Stage 4: Encounter with the Drunk Owner

Life is like a barrel of whisky,

The more it matures, the finer it gets,

And the faster you drink it in the hope of enjoying it better,

Everything becomes so much more easier.

-          Sheldon Coelho

We’ve all heard the rumors and the tales but when the door starts banging at 1 AM on a cold Sunday morning, you know, the ghost of your drunken past is back. Or, it could just be your landlord. Either ways, it’s better to run and hide than face the evil outside. I was used to drunken friends, but drunken landlords? Now, that’s a face you don’t want to see at that point of time in the night (especially when you’re drunk yourself) but then there are times when you just have to do it.

A few times, I had the misfortune of coming face to face with him while he was at his best – should be pretty self-explanatory. So, I developed a very effective method of not engaging him for long. I practiced my long drawn haggard look in front of the mirror several times before finally deciding to use it on him and it worked like a miracle J. The moment my owner saw me in that state, he just couldn’t bear to talk to me lest I collapse right there in front of him. Over time, he stopped disturbing the rest of the inmates and eventually decided to stop his activities – the cause of that is something else, but I believe it was a life changer for him.

Stage 5: The Neighbors

“Love thy neighbor” is what we hear from our parents growing up. And love them was all we could do because adjacent to our PG was a Ladies PG. The evenings were lit with conversations of who was the most beautiful that walked out of those gates. Some of the boys pretended to have conversations with them whenever they got a chance but a look from the owner of the Ladies PG had our boys running a mile away. Slowly a rumor floated around that the girls were not that interesting in the first place and soon, our boys drifted away into new-found passions and interests, the more recent of which, IPL. Naturally, our conversations, animated as they were about who would win, would take a break when the cheerleaders came on and in a unified show of strength, we’d have our eyes glued to the telly as a sign of respect to the skillful cheerleaders.

Stage 6: Festivities

We Indians love our culture and our heritage so much that even though we may stay a hundred miles away from home, the festivities bring in us a sense of togetherness and belonging. The festivities in our PG brought together people from different faiths, religions and ethnicity. We used to celebrate festivals like Holi, Eid, Diwali and Christmas like one big family. There was never a dull moment for either of us during these festivals and the thought that we were all away from our families during these events never bothered us. We enjoyed ourselves to the maximum sometimes even staying up till late in the night talking about the fun-filled stories these festivities brought with them.

Stage 7: Moving out

When you reach this part of your stay in a PG, that is, if the journey has been fun, the moving out can be a very bitter end to an otherwise beautiful period. When I wanted to move out, I felt like a bride was leaving her mother’s home after marriage. There was no crying, yet sadness filled my heart as I was now embarking on new ventures and I could not stay in this PG if I had to fulfill them. Some of the boys helped in carrying my bags down and spoke to me through the process, giving hi-fives, wishing good luck for the future and also a lot of “we’re going to miss you” faces. We spoke of never losing touch with the other inmates and promising to write back whenever we got the chance to do so.

September 2010:

I was staying in this PG for almost two years before I had finally decided to move out to a place closer to my office. It was going to be with a bunch of guys which I didn’t know again, but this was a house and not a PG. There were a lot many things different that were going to happen and a lot more experiences to talk about. Whenever I pass by Indiranagar, I still go and have a look at the old PG and remember all the crazy times spent over there and wish that I could rewind the clock and do it all over again.

Sometimes, it’s easier living in the past than dreaming about the future…

Disclaimer – The views and opinions written in this article are not only the author’s but also his PG Mates. Being their spokesperson, the author has willingly decided to stand in the firing line for writing about their choice memoirs. Should you have any concern with the authenticity of these events, please leave them with your local psychiatrist. 

Why do people write articles?

It’s a known fact that people enjoy writing stuff. Maybe, they like to jot down something which caught their attention while reading the paper or a magazine or doodling over a cartoon area; basically people enjoy writing stuff.

Remember the time when you used to sit up late in the night and write your most secret thoughts in your secret diary? You know for a fact that no one but yourself would be reading that and it would be a secret you would take till your grave. But that little time spent in writing that day to day news is almost as exciting as the day itself and over time, we appreciate the vocabulary and the words that we start using.

Freedom of expression is all what we want. We want to be able to say anything to anybody without being in trouble. They say that ‘the pen is mightier than the sword’ and it holds true in many cases as printed material is always in most cases more incriminating than spoken words.

So let’s try and channel that creative juice in us onto a more preferred medium, blogs. This way, the world shall know what you think and in some way, it does help someone out there who just wants to be heard.

Cheers!

Christmas at Home – A Treat for the Soul

It’s that time of the year again when we rise up and sing at the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. The gathering of all the 50 members of your family in that small two bedroom apartment of yours where you think its just not enough to house more. Yes, it sounds like Christmas.

While most people celebrate Christmas with family, I decided to do something different. I spent a night of fun, frolic and basically drinking with a bunch of friends that I grew up with in Bangalore and boy oh boy, was it good. The amount of planning and preparation that went into this small, yet grand affair took a toll on all of us and we were very satisfied when everyone left the house in good spirits to wish their loved ones at home and basically go to sleep so they could enjoy the rest of the celebrations for that day.

My story is a little more different than the rest mentioned above. I was drunk almighty and I had slept for 48 hours straight. No inkling of time and date at all. When I got up, I realized that I had just spent this Christmas in the worst possible fashion ever. I had forgotten my own family and most of my friends were worried sick about where I was since I wasn’t answering any of their calls.

So I took a little breather and allowed my thoughts to flow freely. Remember when parents ask their kids about what gifts they would be requesting from Santa this year? Well, I had a flashback of when I was small and my dad asking me, ‘Son, have you been a good boy this year?’ And I would go, ‘Yes daddy, I’ve been really good’ – basically lying from the top of my head. I would see that Santa left something nice for me under the Christmas tree and then I felt sorry that I had lied to Santa and still got something from him.

Coming back to the present day; I remembered those very same words that my father used a very long time ago and I thought to myself, Have I been good this year? I haven’t spoken to my family in a long time, I haven’t been the most responsible person when it came to doing any kind of work, and I haven’t been the best friend. All these things were eating my head and I just couldn’t stop but wonder why on earth I am living this farcical life. I wanted to amend things straight away so I called up one of my best friends and told him that ‘Dude, I’m off to Mangalore for New Year and I’m sorry we won’t be catching up on 31^st night because I’m missing my family a lot.’ He was all sweet and kind and he said ‘Definitely bro, family comes first and I’m happy that you’ll be with your family at this time’.

Well, now to get the details in order. First I get in touch with my neighbor and tell him that I’m coming to Mangalore to give my uncle and everyone there a nice surprise and would require a return ticket from Mangalore to Bangalore so I can reach back on 4^th morning for work. He says ‘No problem Sheldon, I’ll get that arranged for you in no time’ and bang, in half an hour he’s got my ticket ready. Second, I had to convince my team mates at office that I will be leaving a day in advance so I had to get all my work cleared off in time. Third, getting a ticket to Mangalore as this would be a rush season and everybody’s going home at the same time. My ticket booking agent is a genius. He shifted a few seats from here and there and ensured that I would get a ticket on the same bus that I wanted on the same day at the time that I usually traveled on.

So now that I have finally reached Mangalore, I begin to realize what a wonderful feeling I’m having since I got here. This feeling of calm and peaceful serenity is exuding all around me. As I sit and await the arrival of lunch, the delicious aroma is tickling my senses and I see that this is what I’ve been missing all along – it’s the sweet taste of purity. I’m finally at home and it’s “a treat for the soul indeed.”

P.S – In case you’re wondering why I’m writing about Christmas in the month of April, I’d like you’ll to know that this was a long lost article which I managed to retrieve from an old hard disk. Yay!

The Story of my Life

Life. A four letter word that has different meanings and yet, all of us strive to find that piece of happiness and joy in that four letter word everyday. We get up in the morning and we know what we want for breakfast – eggs and bacon. Lo and behold, you are looking at freshly baked panpales (neer dosa) and chutney. Yuck, I would say but can’t. I do not want to hurt Mama’s feelings. So I have these panpales and think, maybe its time I bought a new shirt or a new pant and lo and behold again, Dadla has something in store for his ‘little rascal’. Shona fights with me to get hold of the TV remote while I’m watching an amazing show (F.R.I.E.N.D.S – if you must know) and lo and behold, Dadla and Mama already have plans of watching something else. Well you try and try and try to change them but you should face the fact. They are not going to change. They are your family and no matter how small or how old you are, you will always be a ‘Sonnuboy’ to them. But it’s fun. Life without those three other people is not life at all. It’s another four letter word – ‘Hell’. Now this four letter word is the total opposite where Mama makes eggs and bacon (while you’re on a very strict diet and there are no cornflakes in the house) and Dadla is just sitting idle not even talking to anybody.

When you sit down and analyze what life has taken you through, you realize that you have left so many things behind. Things that you have wanted to take seriously, things you should have had when you’re young. People, are some of the most important things that we tend to overlook in our quest for happiness. We leave them hanging dry and low and is this our fault? I’m not so sure. Let’s face the fact. We know that sometimes things change, situations change but the chance to make things right is never quite there. You strive to be a better human being but you tend to hurt sometimes the people you love or who love you. What is the cause of such irrational thinking? Call it a mistake of the youth or teenage delinquency. ‘YOU’ are the cause for this. Not anybody else but ‘YOU’.

Now that I have given you a brief description on what life basically is let me demonstrate the essence of what this means. It may be hard for some people to believe that life can truly be beautiful and enjoyable. Although, some cynics may say that life can truly be a monstrosity of crimes viz the sex, murder and drugs, I say ‘to hell with that’. ‘Let there be Rock’ in the words of AC/DC. God made the earth, the stars, the moon and then he made life. He made everything so beautiful in this world that there are very few who would stop and smell the fresh air, see the flowers blooming in the night or see the lake and wish that the world had been a better place. I have wished for such things. I have longed for such things. But it is hard to find happiness 24/7. No one can.

Which is when I started doing some research on where I’m currently headed on with my life and what is stopping me from getting there. I’m not a bad person. I love life. I love life so much that I’ve left so many people behind in my quest for happiness. There are some things I truly cherish in this world and one of them is friendship. Remember the time you had so many things to do and yet you could not accomplish that because you just did not have the motivation to go through with it? Well that’s when friends become helpful. They get you back on track. They make you do things that you probably did not know you could do and they are on your side whether you have made a mistake or not. This is called friendship. This is called life. So if you have to live life, then be a normal person and enjoy the fruits of your labor. But if you want to love life, do what I did. Get an amazing set of friends and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

TATS WACK!!!

Do we ever grow old?

A serious question to ponder on, don’t you think? The real question is actually, do we ever want to grow old? I still get all the butterflies in my stomach when one of my friends starts talking about Batman and Wolverine or the latest toy car model that he’s acquired. I enjoy watching cartoons even now.

You have to face the fact sometimes. Either you pick up the pieces of your life and start afresh, or you can still move on in the same fantasy world with a few changes here and there to alter as per the situation. You can be serious at your job, at home, with finances, with your marriage, with your kids, with everything, but once in a while, you need to bring out that inner child in you and allow it to take over the shadow that you have become. You need to free him from the bondage.

I remember during my 25^th birthday (not so long ago), my parents gifted me a set of Spacemen, ones that I used to play with as a kid. There were about twenty five of them in various positions, each one having a different set of tools. I went bonkers. I was reunited with my “Man Man”. I played with them for about two hours after that, just talking to myself, creating scenarios, making the figures talk to themselves. I had no idea what had happened to me. For those two hours, I felt the child in me was brought back, if only for a while.

I guess we all need that sometimes. We need to remind ourselves that the child in us deserves to be called out in to the open. He needs to be fed, nurtured and put back to sleep so he’s happier the next time he comes out. I get high on that.

So the next time you’re thinking about talking about the comic books or action figures or maybe doing some crazy weird stuff that you used to do as a kid, don’t feel shy or wonder if you’re acting like a kid. Go for it, I say. And if you’re a parent, your child will definitely get closer to you when they realize that you share the same amount of passion as they do about the stuff that they like. Plus, look at it in this way. You’ll be crowned as the ‘Coolest King’ or ‘Coolest Queen’ among your child’s friends’.

Now where did I leave my copy of Iron Man?

Another long day at the office

Who among you hasn’t heard of the famous phrases that everyone keeps repeating almost every time?

-          It’s been a long day at the office mate

-          Oh! My day just got worse

-          I’m shit out of luck today. It just doesn’t seem to get over, does it?

Almost all of us who work hard or hardly keep repeating these lines to remind ourselves how our day could not get crappier. It’s easy for people to say though,

-          Prioritize your work

-          I need this to be done now. This is more important than what you’re doing

-          I feel you’re not living up to your potential

What does the higher management actually ever want? Is it a nice cushy job while someone does all the hard work or a devil may care attitude because you know that someone out there is making your name look good? If you have ever watched the movie ‘Karthik calling Karthik’ – which is a Hindi movie by the way, starring Farhan Akthar and Deepika Padukone, you’d understand perfectly what I’m trying to say. Karthik was considered a nut by everyone. All the work used to be dumped at his desk because he was the “Man for the Job”. Being a soft spoken guy, he could hardly say no.

What was more important is that Karthik had no friends. The girl who he’s in love with at the office, to whom he’s been trying to share his feelings with but in the end just saving all the emails as drafts, never actually sending them, didn’t even care to battle an eyelid at him. All of a sudden, he starts getting mysterious phone calls from a person named Karthik at 5 AM who happens to know every intimate detail that Karthik possesses. He says “I’m here to help you”. Karthik starts trusting his judgment and his life turns into a rainbow overnight.

This was Karthik’s sub-conscious mind talking to him and his alter ego turns Karthik into something totally different than what the original could never have dreamt of becoming. But not all of us suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD). Not all of us can fight a losing battle with the one hope that a last strike may win the war for us. This is the fate we must all share for the sake of the continuity of the business; to keep the clients happy. That’s all what matters.

So do you know what I would do? My mind goes blank trying to think of words to say.

The only hope I have now – Get beaten down, but live to fight another day. If patience is mother of all f***ups, then success is definitely her son. My advice to you, in the words of Jack Black from the movie ‘School of Rock’ – “Stick it to the Man”.

Cheers

P.S – For the rest of you who can’t “Stick it to the Man”, happy job hunting…

Monday Blah!

Remember Aladdin and his magic lamp? Well, I ain’t an Aladdin but I do have a roommate who we fondly call Jasmine; but more about the magic lamp. History states that, Aladdin rubbed his magic lamp and out whooshed a genie who granted Aladdin three wishes of his choice. I didn’t have to rub a lamp but I did have my three wishes granted yesterday through some magical stroke of luck.

It was 3 AM and I was travelling back home on the bus and somehow, I just couldn’t get any sleep. I was wondering what was disturbing me and it was two things. One, my roommates had again done some nonsense and I was going to find out what only when I got home. Two, I was going to lose a close friend. Surprising to say the least, I got back home to see my bags all packed and neatly arranged next to the door. It seemed like we were ready for a quick exit should the situation ever arise. Hmmm and why was all I could muster at that moment.

Two, I lost my close friend to the unfortunate enemy called “distance”. The funny part about that is, I didn’t wish for it to happen. I had this nagging thought in my mind that the distance factor would create some trouble surely sooner or later. It was too soon to predict, honestly. That being said, the friend and I are still keeping in touch.

Three, as if the day could not get any worse, when I left for work, I realized that I did not have the ID card with me. I went back home and searched desperately for it. No luck. So, I left home and pondered on how I’m going to get into my office without an ID card. As luck wasn’t on my side yesterday, no one was in the office, which in turn means no one to identify me, which means, I can’t get to work. This is something that’s happening at 7 AM by the way.

After calling, yelling and heckling a few of the people, my manager finally got them to grant me a temporary access for the day, which as I suspected it, did not start working immediately. My day could not start any better – 7.40 AM.

So, I reach my workstation and I switch my desktop on happy to see it for another week when I realize that my drawer key has all the important documents which I need for my work. The drawer key was attached to the ID card, the location of which is currently unknown. Alright, where are you Mr Locksmith? I looked at the time on the workstation – 7.50 AM. Too early for anyone to come and get it opened. What do I do? Get home and start searching for the badge? Yes, I could not see any other alternative at that moment.

10.15 AM – I had been rummaging through the rubble with determination for the last two hours, only to be disappointed that my badge was not where it was supposed to be at. Ok, time to call the locksmith and get the drawer opened anyhow.

11.00 AM – I enter the office not realizing that I hadn’t changed / showered since I reached home at half past 6. I’ve been running around too pissed with so much nonsense happening since morning that I didn’t realize that I was wearing a tee that said “Recovering Quoteaholic”. Hmmm, again at that thought which made me smile for the first time.

11.28 AM – A call from a dear old friend cheered me up. I was literally doing pirouettes while we talked. This person’s always the ego booster, a mood enhancer and a darling for me. Thank you.

7.40 PM – Twelve hours since I started working and I get this funny thought in my head that my access card was going to get revoked at the stroke of midnight much like Cinderella’s chariot turning into a pumpkin. I laugh to myself that this can’t happen and go out for a cup of coffee.

12.05 AM – It happened just like I had imagined. I was wondering if my thoughts were being converted to wishes somehow. So here I am, stuck all alone in a big office with no security around, awaiting rescue. So once again after calling, yelling and heckling a few of the people, I got someone to come rescue me. Freedom never felt so good at half past 12 in the morning.

12.20 AM – reach home and roommates are ready to get out for dinner. They unceremoniously dump me back on the bike and off we go.

3.00 AM – landed home finally. I’ve been awake for 24 hours exactly. 3 thoughts converted to three wishes which brought about a lot of mess, madness and unnecessary heckling today.

Let’s hope Tuesday starts off well…