Friday, August 20, 2010
back to blogging !!
its been three years since i last wrote something on the blog. three years with many changes in one's personal life... nevertheless time is ripe to start posting again !! will start writing this week :)
Saturday, July 7, 2007
The big fat indian wedding!!
I couldn’t have found a better day to write about a wedding…its 07.07.07. destiny's date:)
Although my experience from the past week.
It was a cousin sisters marriage. Staying out of home all these years meant not meeting her for the past 7 years although as kids we got lots of time together .
Marwari weddings are long, elongated affairs. Soaked in customs and rituals they continue almost forever. Even for the slightly extended family it involves at least 3 days, for the immediate family it can mean at least 15 days of action besides 150 days of preparation . not to mention the average 2.5 years spent looking for a groom/bride.
If an American reads this he’ll be horrified. He/she can do the cycle in 2 weeks and maybe get on to another cycle in 6 months. Cultural snides apart, "to each his own”. Right and wrong are too complex and ambiguous to be defined . as long as you live a life you love nothing else matters.personally I wont mind being an Indian or an American or anyone in between [ Indians and Americans here are faulty over generalizations of attitude towards relationships , individuals within cultures differ a lot more than individuals across culture ]
Another salient feature is residency. Unlike other weddings in city where you come on the wedding night greet ,eat,gift,escape it’s a little more difficult here. Your endurance will be tested over many days. lol. you have to stay in a "dharamsala" where all elements of family who can be fused together will be thrown in. the arrangement itself is fun. Around 7 meals a day.lots of chat. Interrupted by a morning nap,afternoon siesta and a long nights sleep.:) words become scant to describe the lethargic levels prevalent ..lol….though its one of those time when happiness instead of a goal becomes an ongoing event ...:)
There is one thing I absolutely love about marwari weddings. My 5 “10” is almost the tallest in most cases as our impoverished times in 19th century rajasthan exercise a genetic remote control. Although with increasing prosperity the situation is changing but as of now 6 feet is very uncommon.
In a Punjabi wedding I would have been a pygmy.as if to remind me of our geographical location in the Punjabi heartland a heavily “punjabified” number from “jhoom barabar jhoom” started playing. I wondered at the surreality of the whole situation. A marwari enclave within a Punjabi homeland . Punjabi homeland itself surrounded by jat lands.
Further surrounded by cow belt. And if we remove the semantic walls, human beings surrounded by human beings.
I strayed a little. I found a guy whom I had met some 10 years back. He pulled me in a photograph with 4 of his friends/relatives. Instantly I was immortalized in Eastman Kodak’s discovery along with 4 guys I never knew and in all reasonable probability will never meet again. And they will be answering a lifetime of “who’s this guy” answers with a long long explanation every time until Alzheimer’s or old age decimates their neural numbers…lol
The only person I knew really well was my own mausi/masi . so i literally kept hanging by her pallu as any deviations caused bouts of agoraphobia and potential anomie. Moreover identification was a lot easier with her around. I had to say 10 lines to make any sense she had to say one “he’s my nephew” . instantly I found a place on the family hierarchy and was quickly given something to eat as if to express approval.
Mausi told me that by the virtue of being my youngest brother her 3 year old will sit behind me on the white mare.(we have a custom where a small kid wears a matching sherwani like the groom and stays stuck to him during all the wedding days , like a younger reflection…thankfully he doesn’t come on the honeymoon…lol….i was the little boy in 3 weddings )
I told her that although the idea was good but she shouldn’t be rushing for sherwani size . he’ll be atleast 12 or 15 by the time he actually gets to sit in my wedding . mausi gave the “raised eyebrow-rolling eye” look.
As a concession he can wear a spiderman or superman costume instead of the sherwani J
I found a bald , intense kid walking around very purposefully. 23 purposeless years have made me antagonistic towards purposefulness.
So I picked him up and turned him around. He started walking in the opposite direction. Realizing his folly he turned back and came back towards me in slow measured step. I tried the old trick but he turned back. I picked him again and this time turned him 360 degrees instead of 180. his bald half moon head could not pick the right signals and he took the wrong direction. I lost interest.
On the dinner counter I found a 8 yr old girl struggling to finish one 300 ml glass of water. Always ready to boast I threw in the gauntlet.
Me- “ I can drink 5 of these”
Lil girl – “you cant”
Me- “I can”
Lil girl- “go ahead, im watching, if you break you promise you will be consumed by fires from the heavens above “
Trapped, and wary of heavenly fury I picked up a glass cursing myself and my big mouth. 1….2………..3…………………..4…………………………………..5.
The speed kept slowing but I finally managed . the lil girl started clapping . two sidey kids passing by joined in the clapping without understanding the significance of the moment :)
This sudden inflow of inexpensive water forced me to redraw my wedding dinner optimization plans. So as to maintain margins and preserve value chains I was forced to skip relatively cheaper main course and directly devour the more expensive desserts.
I quickly laid a siege of the dessert counter. As soon as it opened my longer hands ensured that I got a larger portion of everything than the miscreant kids who were standing around me.
Mausi then started telling me something that nani had told mama and she was telling me. “marry any caste but marry within our own religion”. i marvelled at the range opened up…lol
In characteristic shahrukh style I told her (in hindi) “ hum jeete ek baar hai, marte ek baar hai aur pyar bhi ek hi baar hota hai” ( we live once , die once and fall in love just that one time) …lol “rolling eyes-raised eyebrow “ look was “in” again.
I buffered my argument with a philosophic (again in hindi)" the only kind of love that exists is the love of human being for another, and love for a nation and the world. It’s the qualities of the head and the heart and not ephemeral labels that will decide anything for me :)" she started laughing:):)
notes:
mausi/masi : mother's sister
nani : maternal grandmother
mama: mother's sister
sherwani:indian ethnic wear ,grooms dressing in marriage
punjabi:ethnic indian group originating in punjab,mainly found in north india
jat : a community living in outer delhi, western up,rajasthan ,haryana
marwari:ethnic community from rajasthan,moved out after great droughts in 19th century,mainly involved in trading activities.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marwaris
pallu: edge of saree
Although my experience from the past week.
It was a cousin sisters marriage. Staying out of home all these years meant not meeting her for the past 7 years although as kids we got lots of time together .
Marwari weddings are long, elongated affairs. Soaked in customs and rituals they continue almost forever. Even for the slightly extended family it involves at least 3 days, for the immediate family it can mean at least 15 days of action besides 150 days of preparation . not to mention the average 2.5 years spent looking for a groom/bride.
If an American reads this he’ll be horrified. He/she can do the cycle in 2 weeks and maybe get on to another cycle in 6 months. Cultural snides apart, "to each his own”. Right and wrong are too complex and ambiguous to be defined . as long as you live a life you love nothing else matters.personally I wont mind being an Indian or an American or anyone in between [ Indians and Americans here are faulty over generalizations of attitude towards relationships , individuals within cultures differ a lot more than individuals across culture ]
Another salient feature is residency. Unlike other weddings in city where you come on the wedding night greet ,eat,gift,escape it’s a little more difficult here. Your endurance will be tested over many days. lol. you have to stay in a "dharamsala" where all elements of family who can be fused together will be thrown in. the arrangement itself is fun. Around 7 meals a day.lots of chat. Interrupted by a morning nap,afternoon siesta and a long nights sleep.:) words become scant to describe the lethargic levels prevalent ..lol….though its one of those time when happiness instead of a goal becomes an ongoing event ...:)
There is one thing I absolutely love about marwari weddings. My 5 “10” is almost the tallest in most cases as our impoverished times in 19th century rajasthan exercise a genetic remote control. Although with increasing prosperity the situation is changing but as of now 6 feet is very uncommon.
In a Punjabi wedding I would have been a pygmy.as if to remind me of our geographical location in the Punjabi heartland a heavily “punjabified” number from “jhoom barabar jhoom” started playing. I wondered at the surreality of the whole situation. A marwari enclave within a Punjabi homeland . Punjabi homeland itself surrounded by jat lands.
Further surrounded by cow belt. And if we remove the semantic walls, human beings surrounded by human beings.
I strayed a little. I found a guy whom I had met some 10 years back. He pulled me in a photograph with 4 of his friends/relatives. Instantly I was immortalized in Eastman Kodak’s discovery along with 4 guys I never knew and in all reasonable probability will never meet again. And they will be answering a lifetime of “who’s this guy” answers with a long long explanation every time until Alzheimer’s or old age decimates their neural numbers…lol
The only person I knew really well was my own mausi/masi . so i literally kept hanging by her pallu as any deviations caused bouts of agoraphobia and potential anomie. Moreover identification was a lot easier with her around. I had to say 10 lines to make any sense she had to say one “he’s my nephew” . instantly I found a place on the family hierarchy and was quickly given something to eat as if to express approval.
Mausi told me that by the virtue of being my youngest brother her 3 year old will sit behind me on the white mare.(we have a custom where a small kid wears a matching sherwani like the groom and stays stuck to him during all the wedding days , like a younger reflection…thankfully he doesn’t come on the honeymoon…lol….i was the little boy in 3 weddings )
I told her that although the idea was good but she shouldn’t be rushing for sherwani size . he’ll be atleast 12 or 15 by the time he actually gets to sit in my wedding . mausi gave the “raised eyebrow-rolling eye” look.
As a concession he can wear a spiderman or superman costume instead of the sherwani J
I found a bald , intense kid walking around very purposefully. 23 purposeless years have made me antagonistic towards purposefulness.
So I picked him up and turned him around. He started walking in the opposite direction. Realizing his folly he turned back and came back towards me in slow measured step. I tried the old trick but he turned back. I picked him again and this time turned him 360 degrees instead of 180. his bald half moon head could not pick the right signals and he took the wrong direction. I lost interest.
On the dinner counter I found a 8 yr old girl struggling to finish one 300 ml glass of water. Always ready to boast I threw in the gauntlet.
Me- “ I can drink 5 of these”
Lil girl – “you cant”
Me- “I can”
Lil girl- “go ahead, im watching, if you break you promise you will be consumed by fires from the heavens above “
Trapped, and wary of heavenly fury I picked up a glass cursing myself and my big mouth. 1….2………..3…………………..4…………………………………..5.
The speed kept slowing but I finally managed . the lil girl started clapping . two sidey kids passing by joined in the clapping without understanding the significance of the moment :)
This sudden inflow of inexpensive water forced me to redraw my wedding dinner optimization plans. So as to maintain margins and preserve value chains I was forced to skip relatively cheaper main course and directly devour the more expensive desserts.
I quickly laid a siege of the dessert counter. As soon as it opened my longer hands ensured that I got a larger portion of everything than the miscreant kids who were standing around me.
Mausi then started telling me something that nani had told mama and she was telling me. “marry any caste but marry within our own religion”. i marvelled at the range opened up…lol
In characteristic shahrukh style I told her (in hindi) “ hum jeete ek baar hai, marte ek baar hai aur pyar bhi ek hi baar hota hai” ( we live once , die once and fall in love just that one time) …lol “rolling eyes-raised eyebrow “ look was “in” again.
I buffered my argument with a philosophic (again in hindi)" the only kind of love that exists is the love of human being for another, and love for a nation and the world. It’s the qualities of the head and the heart and not ephemeral labels that will decide anything for me :)" she started laughing:):)
notes:
mausi/masi : mother's sister
nani : maternal grandmother
mama: mother's sister
sherwani:indian ethnic wear ,grooms dressing in marriage
punjabi:ethnic indian group originating in punjab,mainly found in north india
jat : a community living in outer delhi, western up,rajasthan ,haryana
marwari:ethnic community from rajasthan,moved out after great droughts in 19th century,mainly involved in trading activities.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marwaris
pallu: edge of saree
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
music and lyrics
June 25 11 : 30 pm somewhere in modern India
i am at writers Valhalla(Nordic for hall of slain heroes....gods) no special symbolism here...:) just parading whatever scant knowledge of European myths entered my brains....
an alluringly beautiful night,bedecked in the silver of stars. clouds lightening up like huge bulbs, first intermittently and then almost continuously. the roar is symptomatic of the coming storm..and rain.
an entire leafy avenue was glittering with its greens reflecting the streams of light from multiple balconies.
solitude, music, and then drops of manna. nirvana.
i bet Zeus himself sitting on his pretty perch on mount Olympus would have felt a tinge of jealousy....hard luck god dear (history dragged in, for no purpose...lol)
i remember being chided by the women in life about getting too happy about these otherwise "normal" events/objects like weather or a natural formation..or an old building, or a coffee at 6 in the morning.
probably they were right.
and yet I'm happy i never listened.it may be childish stubbornness without logic or reason, but I'm not convinced that maturity is the best solution.
my literature heroes remain man-boy and love and are loved by women-girl. this may or may not find a real world counterpart..but what is life without a little dream at attempting a cherished idea.
i continue being amazed at little marvels of nature, ingenuity of kids, even at the Internet and how it works down to its chips. amazement morphs into curiosity and a learning curve is established:)
relationships sometimes veer towards inevitable compromises. mainly around all that's material in life. i was too smittened by the intangibles to even take note of the tangibles....lol....there's always a rainbow to hold onto if everything else deserts you.
anyhow that's enough dust off closed books. they may spring to life....:)
to swing the mood to manna droplets i put on a song from fanna, "mere haath main",
it starts with
aag suraj main hoti hai,
tapna jamee ko parta hai,
mohabbat dil main hoti hai,
tarasna nigaho ko parta hai.
an air packet hits me as if to express its assertion on my choice of music for the moment.
good, i'll make a mental note to recite that to a pretty lady on a cool rainy evening on a future date:)
thought belts shifted gears to remind me of the last time the three came together. rains poetry and a pretty woman.
it was a nusrat fateh ali khan couplet.
ye raat fir nahi hogi
ye mulakaat fir nahi hogi
aise badal to fir ayenge
ye barsaat fir nahi hogi
another nusrat line comes to my mind.
har kisi ko mukkamal jahan nahi milta
kisi ko jamee kisis ko asma nahin milta
rains are such an equalizer. the neat packets that our world is rich/poor good/bad disappear to become a seamless tossed salad. from my breezy balcony i survey the beautiful acres that lay ahead.
clumps of trees,some lighted by the shimmering white light (due to the intervening droplets), their leaf veins sucking up the rainwater to quench and quell the memories of a parched mid summer.
from the inside i hear guns and roses "November rain"...did they write it in south hemisphere? it generally rains in November in most of southern hemisphere. again they could have been in one of the med climate regions which experiences winter rains
at a distance i can see the dome of sriram college of commerce, my Alma mater. stunningly white bathed in the light and music of crashing droplets , shining among the greens , embellished by a dash of pink.
what a strange fate this building has. in the day it has so many takers that high 90 per centers are turned away and yet, lonely by the night. the buildings days are so much like the days of our lives. those inevitable days with more people/objects/themes/ideas to handle than humanly possible and then the other slack ones..which stretch on to almost forever.
bob dylan is singing "like a rolling stone"
i wonder if we are ever going to have 24 hour colleges , something where every day is devoted to a particular art/science/anything. which is 100 percent safe with total on campus accommodation and a crackling intellectual atmosphere.
maybe like Greek philosophers of the yore we can debate for days amongst ourselves rejuvenated by canteen food and short naps:)
daily commuting and incursion of other lives muddle the young academics life like nothing else.
or maybe a weekly literature all nighter. 3 novels in a night or something....a group, half with specs,half without sitting along a round table like king aurthurs knights with a few bean bags thrown in here or there for the lazier ones:)
there's something about words and nights.in the day characters are too attentive to let carefully cultivated facades drop, times are too hurried to analyse and break down motives and daily possibilities continue remaining pregnant.
everything settles down at the night.
shielded by my coffee coloured umbrella i got down for a cup of tea and some potential chit chat with the tea shop regulars.
suddenly there was a leap of faith,change in hearts desires.
i return to home, my world of certainties.
the clock struck 12.
the music was john denver 'country roads take me home'
just as in 1000 oaks , pune.
i ripped open the heart of a golden-yellow malda mango .
rains , mango,music..i was transported to a bihari homeland[:)]
Back to its innocent days when the spear of materialism had not shredded the body armour of a self sustaining village economy.
The next song was shahrukh khan in “swades” “ye jo des hai mera”. My black ink merged into the black of the night.
i am at writers Valhalla(Nordic for hall of slain heroes....gods) no special symbolism here...:) just parading whatever scant knowledge of European myths entered my brains....
an alluringly beautiful night,bedecked in the silver of stars. clouds lightening up like huge bulbs, first intermittently and then almost continuously. the roar is symptomatic of the coming storm..and rain.
an entire leafy avenue was glittering with its greens reflecting the streams of light from multiple balconies.
solitude, music, and then drops of manna. nirvana.
i bet Zeus himself sitting on his pretty perch on mount Olympus would have felt a tinge of jealousy....hard luck god dear (history dragged in, for no purpose...lol)
i remember being chided by the women in life about getting too happy about these otherwise "normal" events/objects like weather or a natural formation..or an old building, or a coffee at 6 in the morning.
probably they were right.
and yet I'm happy i never listened.it may be childish stubbornness without logic or reason, but I'm not convinced that maturity is the best solution.
my literature heroes remain man-boy and love and are loved by women-girl. this may or may not find a real world counterpart..but what is life without a little dream at attempting a cherished idea.
i continue being amazed at little marvels of nature, ingenuity of kids, even at the Internet and how it works down to its chips. amazement morphs into curiosity and a learning curve is established:)
relationships sometimes veer towards inevitable compromises. mainly around all that's material in life. i was too smittened by the intangibles to even take note of the tangibles....lol....there's always a rainbow to hold onto if everything else deserts you.
anyhow that's enough dust off closed books. they may spring to life....:)
to swing the mood to manna droplets i put on a song from fanna, "mere haath main",
it starts with
aag suraj main hoti hai,
tapna jamee ko parta hai,
mohabbat dil main hoti hai,
tarasna nigaho ko parta hai.
an air packet hits me as if to express its assertion on my choice of music for the moment.
good, i'll make a mental note to recite that to a pretty lady on a cool rainy evening on a future date:)
thought belts shifted gears to remind me of the last time the three came together. rains poetry and a pretty woman.
it was a nusrat fateh ali khan couplet.
ye raat fir nahi hogi
ye mulakaat fir nahi hogi
aise badal to fir ayenge
ye barsaat fir nahi hogi
another nusrat line comes to my mind.
har kisi ko mukkamal jahan nahi milta
kisi ko jamee kisis ko asma nahin milta
rains are such an equalizer. the neat packets that our world is rich/poor good/bad disappear to become a seamless tossed salad. from my breezy balcony i survey the beautiful acres that lay ahead.
clumps of trees,some lighted by the shimmering white light (due to the intervening droplets), their leaf veins sucking up the rainwater to quench and quell the memories of a parched mid summer.
from the inside i hear guns and roses "November rain"...did they write it in south hemisphere? it generally rains in November in most of southern hemisphere. again they could have been in one of the med climate regions which experiences winter rains
at a distance i can see the dome of sriram college of commerce, my Alma mater. stunningly white bathed in the light and music of crashing droplets , shining among the greens , embellished by a dash of pink.
what a strange fate this building has. in the day it has so many takers that high 90 per centers are turned away and yet, lonely by the night. the buildings days are so much like the days of our lives. those inevitable days with more people/objects/themes/ideas to handle than humanly possible and then the other slack ones..which stretch on to almost forever.
bob dylan is singing "like a rolling stone"
i wonder if we are ever going to have 24 hour colleges , something where every day is devoted to a particular art/science/anything. which is 100 percent safe with total on campus accommodation and a crackling intellectual atmosphere.
maybe like Greek philosophers of the yore we can debate for days amongst ourselves rejuvenated by canteen food and short naps:)
daily commuting and incursion of other lives muddle the young academics life like nothing else.
or maybe a weekly literature all nighter. 3 novels in a night or something....a group, half with specs,half without sitting along a round table like king aurthurs knights with a few bean bags thrown in here or there for the lazier ones:)
there's something about words and nights.in the day characters are too attentive to let carefully cultivated facades drop, times are too hurried to analyse and break down motives and daily possibilities continue remaining pregnant.
everything settles down at the night.
shielded by my coffee coloured umbrella i got down for a cup of tea and some potential chit chat with the tea shop regulars.
suddenly there was a leap of faith,change in hearts desires.
i return to home, my world of certainties.
the clock struck 12.
the music was john denver 'country roads take me home'
just as in 1000 oaks , pune.
i ripped open the heart of a golden-yellow malda mango .
rains , mango,music..i was transported to a bihari homeland[:)]
Back to its innocent days when the spear of materialism had not shredded the body armour of a self sustaining village economy.
The next song was shahrukh khan in “swades” “ye jo des hai mera”. My black ink merged into the black of the night.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
sangh lok seva ayog
20th may 2007 is a day unlike any other in the life of a civil service aspirant. leave alone the students even the shopkeepers and washer men in north Delhi colonies like mukherjee nagar are aware of it.
i got up at 7 and after a mandatory Maggi breakfast [ after mom's 111 directions to have sugar and curd :( ] i set off for my centre, for yet another tryst with destiny.
the exam has been behaving like something of a runaway bride (only if it were Julia Roberts instead..lol). for two years every may it starts with an "i do" only to beat a hasty retreat by the next. will it be any different this year? i have no idea....but what fun is a journey to a destination you are sure of getting to...tamso ma jyotirgamay...from darkness to light...our journeys :)
the previous night had been weird . i could only sleep for a couple of hours after i spent double that time in trying to sleep. every time i changed the AC's temperature it reminded me of all the places on the planet with a temperature like that. so i kept oscillating between vostok and al aziziya while staying put in the four walls of a Delhi structure.
to distract myself i thought of everything from Macbeth to Milton Friedman to mohenjo daro to mollisols. alas!! the thought clouds kept shielding the golden sunlight of sleep.
when i finally slept i found myself in a childhood dreamland. with memory taps running over warm plains of nostalgia caressed by the mellow sound of silence.
dream scientists believe that regressions like this to a younger , easier world are symptomatic of a sense of concurrent insecurity or denote attempts to get away from a situation which may not be entirely to our liking.
the surreal feeling hung around me as i woke up to the mild hum of the air conditioner and made my way to my aurangzeb lane centre. passing the vicinity of India gate turned into a full scale mnemonic warfare as pieces of history flew around in the head like lost asteroids in a planet building episode.
entering into the classroom dispelled a number of personal myths. one was the belief about my school having the worst benches in the world , it just got a lot worse. i should have brought some tetanus injections alongwith :) another was about it having the worst crowd.
not only the room was all boys :( even the windows and blackboard looked distinctly masculine as if to respond to this new stimuli situation. i reached a score of minus 5 even before seeing the paper, hurtling down a score indifference curves.
the paper itself was a lot of fun. after 30 minutes i had enough answers to clear the cut off. the next 90 minutes were spent shading, reshading , erasing and reshading the bubbles. in between i thanked the man who must have discovered multiple choice exams a zillion times. imagine the time saved. no need to remember someone else's rhetoric and pose it as your own. plain simple business...
after exhausting my leisure faculties i started going out every 10 minutes for no reason. to ensure multiple safe passages i had informed the examiner that i was metabolically challenged on the day. the poor guy kept feeling sorry for all the time i was loosing due to the "breaks".
as i came out of my centre at 11:30 i realized why Delhi is the capital city with maximum number of trees per acre . i reached a friend's car by following the shadow line's of a dozen gulmohars. next, i went to shahjahan road to pick up a friend from his centre at the upsc. some journey, aurangzeb to shahjahan...lol
we reached khan market for a lunch.it was a sunday morning and unlike mukherjee nagar service providers , civil services aspirants didn't constitute much of a market opportunity for khan market traders.we had to get into mc donalds. a lot of pepsin and trypsin were fated to be wasted.
the general studies paper started at 2:30. by 3:00 it was all clear besides a dozen maths sums. creature of nature i started with my walk outside the class and shading re shading routines.
a little later the controller from upsc walked in. he asked the invigilator for his name. shiv kumar.
i tried spotting a third eye. in vain.
he was paid six hundred rupees for the day's work. a hundred and a five hundred note. he counted them thrice , testing his fate, nothing changed.
i wondered what he'll do with the money. maybe his daughter's school fee, or probably wife's medicine or maybe a long promised trip to an amusement may materialize for the family.
and for me?
a couple of large piazzas, or maybe a movie for two. OK 600 won't be enough for these "needs"
would my giving and clearing this exam change anything? would it bridge the gap? or will it only serve to accentuate it?
the escapist gene kicked in and i slipped into the easier world of mathematics rather than take on actual questions that confront my life. Freudian repression ensured that i soon lost memory of the very thought and got the mathematics right.
i reached my favourite campus tea haunt in the evening. immediately 2 people cornered me and carpet bombed me with questions about the paper.
it feels odd to be called sir by a couple of 30 years when you are all of 23. either its good grounded maturity or it may be a delusional out corp on an illusional plain.
i got up at 7 and after a mandatory Maggi breakfast [ after mom's 111 directions to have sugar and curd :( ] i set off for my centre, for yet another tryst with destiny.
the exam has been behaving like something of a runaway bride (only if it were Julia Roberts instead..lol). for two years every may it starts with an "i do" only to beat a hasty retreat by the next. will it be any different this year? i have no idea....but what fun is a journey to a destination you are sure of getting to...tamso ma jyotirgamay...from darkness to light...our journeys :)
the previous night had been weird . i could only sleep for a couple of hours after i spent double that time in trying to sleep. every time i changed the AC's temperature it reminded me of all the places on the planet with a temperature like that. so i kept oscillating between vostok and al aziziya while staying put in the four walls of a Delhi structure.
to distract myself i thought of everything from Macbeth to Milton Friedman to mohenjo daro to mollisols. alas!! the thought clouds kept shielding the golden sunlight of sleep.
when i finally slept i found myself in a childhood dreamland. with memory taps running over warm plains of nostalgia caressed by the mellow sound of silence.
dream scientists believe that regressions like this to a younger , easier world are symptomatic of a sense of concurrent insecurity or denote attempts to get away from a situation which may not be entirely to our liking.
the surreal feeling hung around me as i woke up to the mild hum of the air conditioner and made my way to my aurangzeb lane centre. passing the vicinity of India gate turned into a full scale mnemonic warfare as pieces of history flew around in the head like lost asteroids in a planet building episode.
entering into the classroom dispelled a number of personal myths. one was the belief about my school having the worst benches in the world , it just got a lot worse. i should have brought some tetanus injections alongwith :) another was about it having the worst crowd.
not only the room was all boys :( even the windows and blackboard looked distinctly masculine as if to respond to this new stimuli situation. i reached a score of minus 5 even before seeing the paper, hurtling down a score indifference curves.
the paper itself was a lot of fun. after 30 minutes i had enough answers to clear the cut off. the next 90 minutes were spent shading, reshading , erasing and reshading the bubbles. in between i thanked the man who must have discovered multiple choice exams a zillion times. imagine the time saved. no need to remember someone else's rhetoric and pose it as your own. plain simple business...
after exhausting my leisure faculties i started going out every 10 minutes for no reason. to ensure multiple safe passages i had informed the examiner that i was metabolically challenged on the day. the poor guy kept feeling sorry for all the time i was loosing due to the "breaks".
as i came out of my centre at 11:30 i realized why Delhi is the capital city with maximum number of trees per acre . i reached a friend's car by following the shadow line's of a dozen gulmohars. next, i went to shahjahan road to pick up a friend from his centre at the upsc. some journey, aurangzeb to shahjahan...lol
we reached khan market for a lunch.it was a sunday morning and unlike mukherjee nagar service providers , civil services aspirants didn't constitute much of a market opportunity for khan market traders.we had to get into mc donalds. a lot of pepsin and trypsin were fated to be wasted.
the general studies paper started at 2:30. by 3:00 it was all clear besides a dozen maths sums. creature of nature i started with my walk outside the class and shading re shading routines.
a little later the controller from upsc walked in. he asked the invigilator for his name. shiv kumar.
i tried spotting a third eye. in vain.
he was paid six hundred rupees for the day's work. a hundred and a five hundred note. he counted them thrice , testing his fate, nothing changed.
i wondered what he'll do with the money. maybe his daughter's school fee, or probably wife's medicine or maybe a long promised trip to an amusement may materialize for the family.
and for me?
a couple of large piazzas, or maybe a movie for two. OK 600 won't be enough for these "needs"
would my giving and clearing this exam change anything? would it bridge the gap? or will it only serve to accentuate it?
the escapist gene kicked in and i slipped into the easier world of mathematics rather than take on actual questions that confront my life. Freudian repression ensured that i soon lost memory of the very thought and got the mathematics right.
i reached my favourite campus tea haunt in the evening. immediately 2 people cornered me and carpet bombed me with questions about the paper.
it feels odd to be called sir by a couple of 30 years when you are all of 23. either its good grounded maturity or it may be a delusional out corp on an illusional plain.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
last post till may 20th
its an odd situation. best laid plans backfiring, downhill social life, weeks of effort and little succour.
i have reached the climax of 2 years of high expectations- near achievements-unexpected failures.
like the arch existentialist i am, i'll like to believe that the failures, like many of earlier successes are entirely my doing, but when a host of actors start questioning you on the same it becomes difficult.
i stepped out of college in may 2005, into a life pregnant with possibilities. a good economics degree from a good college. i always loved tempting fate. i took my chance. i gave the civil services exam 12 days after my last exam. may 15th.i never knew how fundamentally my life will be changed.
2 months of dilling dallying about the second subject i were to take made little difference. and suddenly i found i was through . next was the mains. October November 2005. i just hung on and gave a decent exam. 4 more months in wilderness. suddenly it was the interview. devoid of preparation it went badly. that was April 2006. next blow was jaundice which happened just somewhere at the same time.
may 8th i got to know my final results. negative. may 14th was the next PT. i somehow gathered my sickened body to give the exam. next two months were spent in getting back to optimal health.
slogged for 3 months and gave the next mains. CAT was 10 days after my mains. my love for tempting fate resurfaced. gave the CAT.got 98 percentile. too confident about my ias results i didn bother much.
in an anticlimax, i scored in a manner i never have previously. didn't even make it to the interview.
may 20th is the next PT.so bowing to the larger realities of life, i'll have to get studying.
suddenly, a horde of relatives have sensed what's wrong with me. overconfidence.
somehow, even though i hardly bother with any of them ,they have high stakes in me. my throwing away a good cat score became a personal affront to many. their line of argument was that i was "lucky" enough to get a good percentile, which may not happen again.
almost every character in my life believes that i lack direction/conviction. to the extent that it took toll on multiple relationships.
i am being suggested to take classes which make me employable.....lol.
grrr...gimme a break. [:)]
for all my wins and losses i don't blame any one.
i just am trying to live my dreams. i may fail in the process, i am entirely aware of the consequences that await me, but these imperatives won't change the person i am.
and despite all provocations i'll continue being myself.
sorry fellas about this online catharsis. i can't find anyone offline intelligent enough to make sense ( at least on this moment)
"jindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahi"
to the one dreamer that lives in all our hearts...
just remembered a song " ye jo jindagi hai , koi karwa hai, kahan ja rahi hai......."
i have reached the climax of 2 years of high expectations- near achievements-unexpected failures.
like the arch existentialist i am, i'll like to believe that the failures, like many of earlier successes are entirely my doing, but when a host of actors start questioning you on the same it becomes difficult.
i stepped out of college in may 2005, into a life pregnant with possibilities. a good economics degree from a good college. i always loved tempting fate. i took my chance. i gave the civil services exam 12 days after my last exam. may 15th.i never knew how fundamentally my life will be changed.
2 months of dilling dallying about the second subject i were to take made little difference. and suddenly i found i was through . next was the mains. October November 2005. i just hung on and gave a decent exam. 4 more months in wilderness. suddenly it was the interview. devoid of preparation it went badly. that was April 2006. next blow was jaundice which happened just somewhere at the same time.
may 8th i got to know my final results. negative. may 14th was the next PT. i somehow gathered my sickened body to give the exam. next two months were spent in getting back to optimal health.
slogged for 3 months and gave the next mains. CAT was 10 days after my mains. my love for tempting fate resurfaced. gave the CAT.got 98 percentile. too confident about my ias results i didn bother much.
in an anticlimax, i scored in a manner i never have previously. didn't even make it to the interview.
may 20th is the next PT.so bowing to the larger realities of life, i'll have to get studying.
suddenly, a horde of relatives have sensed what's wrong with me. overconfidence.
somehow, even though i hardly bother with any of them ,they have high stakes in me. my throwing away a good cat score became a personal affront to many. their line of argument was that i was "lucky" enough to get a good percentile, which may not happen again.
almost every character in my life believes that i lack direction/conviction. to the extent that it took toll on multiple relationships.
i am being suggested to take classes which make me employable.....lol.
grrr...gimme a break. [:)]
for all my wins and losses i don't blame any one.
i just am trying to live my dreams. i may fail in the process, i am entirely aware of the consequences that await me, but these imperatives won't change the person i am.
and despite all provocations i'll continue being myself.
sorry fellas about this online catharsis. i can't find anyone offline intelligent enough to make sense ( at least on this moment)
"jindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahi"
to the one dreamer that lives in all our hearts...
just remembered a song " ye jo jindagi hai , koi karwa hai, kahan ja rahi hai......."
Saturday, April 21, 2007
camilla the cat-2
3 rows back Camilla spotted moti-max-monty dog...or 3M's dog as friends fondly called him. he was splayed on a comfortable sofa in the lounge area that he habitually reserved. bedecked in jewellery and served by two human bearers he painted a perfect picture of opulence.
moti -max-monty was the richest animal in the vicinity of football field nagar area.
he belonged to a rich, divorced socialite who left her entire property to her dog.
from there Monty dog never looked back. he added his father's and grandfather's name to his own to make it look a little like the titled names of the European aristocratic dogs he met on his summer retreat. in fact, reports suggest that he wanted to add two more generations in his name but had to put down the idea after his tax lawyers protested at the quantum of extra work involved in writing down his name , year after year.
of late monty bog has been spotted in London lobbying for a "peerage". he even asks his acolytes to address him as "sir" moti-max-monty.
sir moti-max-monty or sir 3M's has a wide range of interests. his name is a fusion of east and west. his crusades for dog pride are historic . and if you discount the extra bit of flab ( after all money should show), an out of shape body( little time!!) and a bad face ( blame it on nature) , sir 3M's is quite a looker.
his recent forays are in Indian history. after he read about the forts of central India he rechristened his refurbished villa as "moti mahal" after his illustrious grandfather.on his Gwalior trip he came to know of a monument for sale called "kutia mahal". he promptly bought the property and developed it into a 5 star dotel.(dog hotel). guests are offered 56 varieties of dog food and can sit and enjoy humans fighting or running. they can even put bets on the humans of their choice.
the canine magazine recently called it "dog world's answer to Hilton" , though it failed to specify whether it meant the hotel or the heiress.
a group of academic dogs have opposed these practices and called it un-dog like . they even started an organization called PETH, and got adverts done by doga, the dog superstar of the millennium.
there were murmurs that his grandfather was a common bone chaser in drought time orissa and his father was a cheap police dog.
sir 3 M's brought the murmurs to rest by bringing out an illustrated coffee table book which traced the lineage of sir 3M's family back to the time when moti the first crossed the Asian grasslands leading the marauding Turkish hordes, becoming the first dog in Indian subcontinent.
the most glorious chapter was of course , of his namesake Monty the third who lead a valiant dog squad in a dazzling military action at Waterloo. at one point he swam half the length of English channel to chase a french ship.
it inspired one of the most famous poems in English language " charge of the dog brigade"
of course with his present string of blazing success Monty the present could end up being the greatest of all time.
to be continued...hopefully :)
moti -max-monty was the richest animal in the vicinity of football field nagar area.
he belonged to a rich, divorced socialite who left her entire property to her dog.
from there Monty dog never looked back. he added his father's and grandfather's name to his own to make it look a little like the titled names of the European aristocratic dogs he met on his summer retreat. in fact, reports suggest that he wanted to add two more generations in his name but had to put down the idea after his tax lawyers protested at the quantum of extra work involved in writing down his name , year after year.
of late monty bog has been spotted in London lobbying for a "peerage". he even asks his acolytes to address him as "sir" moti-max-monty.
sir moti-max-monty or sir 3M's has a wide range of interests. his name is a fusion of east and west. his crusades for dog pride are historic . and if you discount the extra bit of flab ( after all money should show), an out of shape body( little time!!) and a bad face ( blame it on nature) , sir 3M's is quite a looker.
his recent forays are in Indian history. after he read about the forts of central India he rechristened his refurbished villa as "moti mahal" after his illustrious grandfather.on his Gwalior trip he came to know of a monument for sale called "kutia mahal". he promptly bought the property and developed it into a 5 star dotel.(dog hotel). guests are offered 56 varieties of dog food and can sit and enjoy humans fighting or running. they can even put bets on the humans of their choice.
the canine magazine recently called it "dog world's answer to Hilton" , though it failed to specify whether it meant the hotel or the heiress.
a group of academic dogs have opposed these practices and called it un-dog like . they even started an organization called PETH, and got adverts done by doga, the dog superstar of the millennium.
there were murmurs that his grandfather was a common bone chaser in drought time orissa and his father was a cheap police dog.
sir 3 M's brought the murmurs to rest by bringing out an illustrated coffee table book which traced the lineage of sir 3M's family back to the time when moti the first crossed the Asian grasslands leading the marauding Turkish hordes, becoming the first dog in Indian subcontinent.
the most glorious chapter was of course , of his namesake Monty the third who lead a valiant dog squad in a dazzling military action at Waterloo. at one point he swam half the length of English channel to chase a french ship.
it inspired one of the most famous poems in English language " charge of the dog brigade"
of course with his present string of blazing success Monty the present could end up being the greatest of all time.
to be continued...hopefully :)
camilla the cat
for nilesh, my kid brother. something he can read and hopefully enjoy, unlike the loads of inanities elsewhere on the page :) he'll be back from school next week.
camilla the cat woke up with flies on her whiskers and anger on her crimson ears. it was an unusually hot late Delhi afternoon, perfect for a nap. Camilla's life moved from nap to nap rather than otherwise and these unexpected shuffling of priorities did her already foul mood little good.
she looked at the WWF calendar hanging above her head on kumar's courtyard. 20th the Friday. tomorrow, she told herself she'll go to the WWF India near habitat centre to check on her petition for endangered species status for amber striped cats in urban settings.
the status, ahh...would mean so much. attention, funds and freebies.
today, like every Friday she'll go for a movie.
the movie though reminded her of last weeks "penguins in love". it kept giving her delicious day dreams for a week to follow.
her mind drifted to the latest political crisis in her life. her president ship of the football field nagar canine, vermine , feline and ursine creatures association(CVFUA) was under threat.
taking a cue from the results of latest MCD elections certain saffron cats were trying to bring a no confidence motion against her paw mark party's government.
if only she can turn the clock a little bit. only last month she had successfully lobbied for the reduction in duties in pet foods with the finance minister. budget 2007 was the most successful budget in the entire CVFUA's history. in fact national feline organizations invited her to take up positions in their organizations.
but being the true secularist she cannot serve in parochial organizations and fritter away the gains made by rainbow coalitions like hers across the country. their slogans like " every dog has already had his day" and "mouse meat for every cat" disgusted her.
she looked at kumar's window. he sat gazing into his unkempt garden, transfixed at an unknown point. Camilla sighed!!
kumar in her view was the laziest, most useless creature of any calling that she ever encountered. twice her 12 years in age, he stayed in a single person household enjoying every moment of it.
though Camilla suspected that it was a grand ploy and he was actually unhappy inside. three years she had watched him curiously. hoping for the mask to fall. but kumar stayed the same.
he was so non descript that even in a one person household he was hardly visible. she half suspected that he melted into the walls using some occult powers. but she wouldn't really let have kumar anything special, even in imagination. so she put down his normalcy to some kind of extreme dumbness.
to top it all , his taste in music was pathetic. he was forever lost in old, romantic numbers. she hoped he'll wisen up some day and buy a stack of latest cat hop or dog lop songs. in fact, she may even consider being friends with him if he did that.
her cager rang. horrified she realized that she has spent 10 minutes of premium Camilla time on wondering about someone like kumar.
she looked at the message from rotu rat. "hey cattie". 2 words absolutely devoid of meaning. she pitied the person who may take an IQ test of rotu rat. before she met rotu she thought only humans were stupid enough to go through hie, bye motions without purpose.
she felt like breaking rotu's nose. only he didn't have a proper one. plus he was a nice guy and despite his stupidity pretty useful.
she looked around to find the sun turning scarlet. she turned and picked up her favourite Garfield skateboard.
after 5 minutes of skating down she reached the nearest multiplex. her heart sank as she realized their were no animal flicks. she'll have to settle for one of those non funny human types.
3 out of 4 were the mandatory mushy romances(eeeeeks!!). her choice became clearer.
stepping into the controlled air conditioned environment she realized the difference.
she made a mental note to read the article about global warming in the "cat chronicles". she had missed reading it initially because she didn't like the photograph next to it. it was of a professor with dirty green eyes that all old and unglamourous cats have.bah!! old cat.
to be continued..lol :)
camilla the cat woke up with flies on her whiskers and anger on her crimson ears. it was an unusually hot late Delhi afternoon, perfect for a nap. Camilla's life moved from nap to nap rather than otherwise and these unexpected shuffling of priorities did her already foul mood little good.
she looked at the WWF calendar hanging above her head on kumar's courtyard. 20th the Friday. tomorrow, she told herself she'll go to the WWF India near habitat centre to check on her petition for endangered species status for amber striped cats in urban settings.
the status, ahh...would mean so much. attention, funds and freebies.
today, like every Friday she'll go for a movie.
the movie though reminded her of last weeks "penguins in love". it kept giving her delicious day dreams for a week to follow.
her mind drifted to the latest political crisis in her life. her president ship of the football field nagar canine, vermine , feline and ursine creatures association(CVFUA) was under threat.
taking a cue from the results of latest MCD elections certain saffron cats were trying to bring a no confidence motion against her paw mark party's government.
if only she can turn the clock a little bit. only last month she had successfully lobbied for the reduction in duties in pet foods with the finance minister. budget 2007 was the most successful budget in the entire CVFUA's history. in fact national feline organizations invited her to take up positions in their organizations.
but being the true secularist she cannot serve in parochial organizations and fritter away the gains made by rainbow coalitions like hers across the country. their slogans like " every dog has already had his day" and "mouse meat for every cat" disgusted her.
she looked at kumar's window. he sat gazing into his unkempt garden, transfixed at an unknown point. Camilla sighed!!
kumar in her view was the laziest, most useless creature of any calling that she ever encountered. twice her 12 years in age, he stayed in a single person household enjoying every moment of it.
though Camilla suspected that it was a grand ploy and he was actually unhappy inside. three years she had watched him curiously. hoping for the mask to fall. but kumar stayed the same.
he was so non descript that even in a one person household he was hardly visible. she half suspected that he melted into the walls using some occult powers. but she wouldn't really let have kumar anything special, even in imagination. so she put down his normalcy to some kind of extreme dumbness.
to top it all , his taste in music was pathetic. he was forever lost in old, romantic numbers. she hoped he'll wisen up some day and buy a stack of latest cat hop or dog lop songs. in fact, she may even consider being friends with him if he did that.
her cager rang. horrified she realized that she has spent 10 minutes of premium Camilla time on wondering about someone like kumar.
she looked at the message from rotu rat. "hey cattie". 2 words absolutely devoid of meaning. she pitied the person who may take an IQ test of rotu rat. before she met rotu she thought only humans were stupid enough to go through hie, bye motions without purpose.
she felt like breaking rotu's nose. only he didn't have a proper one. plus he was a nice guy and despite his stupidity pretty useful.
she looked around to find the sun turning scarlet. she turned and picked up her favourite Garfield skateboard.
after 5 minutes of skating down she reached the nearest multiplex. her heart sank as she realized their were no animal flicks. she'll have to settle for one of those non funny human types.
3 out of 4 were the mandatory mushy romances(eeeeeks!!). her choice became clearer.
stepping into the controlled air conditioned environment she realized the difference.
she made a mental note to read the article about global warming in the "cat chronicles". she had missed reading it initially because she didn't like the photograph next to it. it was of a professor with dirty green eyes that all old and unglamourous cats have.bah!! old cat.
to be continued..lol :)
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