My musings

To all the faces in my head!

2011-05-30T14:30:00.003+05:30

Five years is lot of time! I sit back and think that in a few days from now, I should return to Coimbatore for one last time, for my graduation ceremony. I know that Iv let myself be pushed to places, that Iv met people, grown with them all - a world of my own, unknown to the rest around me at Chennai.

Coimbatore with its gentle breeze and righteous pride in being a warm and hospitable city, and all its many people. To those people - Rach with her art of seducing anyone into arbit conversation that flowed freely, hostel watch woman Radha with her strange ideas of "sensible dressing", Molly with her stories of the villages and its ghost inhabited roads. The wonders of binary search trees, worst case complexity, the genius of mathematics - the honesty that rings loud when you think in maths. Teachers who made you sit up and take notice of these things, teachers who made you wonder why they took up teaching as a career, teachers who made you feel thankful that they did not care to teach. The ladies hostel, borrowing toothpaste, going to college together, eating dinner together. Girls from different parts of the country.

Ammu from Cochin with all her boisterous stream of words that poured out in torrents- her two plaits, Tango with her head tilt, delectable "mangaa thokku" and her bible reading sessions at night. Priya - her warm sincerity and glasses, cheeky happy person that she is! Aruna, with her beautiful voice - I could listen to her sing all day- and spot on sense of humour, Madhu - all her Fashion Tech work - stitching, sticking, painting-and her perennial thirst for something fun, Countless debates into the night courtesy Neyveli's Preethi, Astro- her stories from far and beyond that have entertained us, many a night, strong identity that she has!

Dynamic polymorphism, pointers, the Sunday lunch that I hate, sticky wet hands after eating the icecream in the afternoon, waiting for the news paper on the couch. The rumaali roti, the maths behind the paneer serves. Shifting rooms, carrying luggage. From one floor to another, from one block to another, from hostel to the station.

Evading watchmen, bending the rules, breaking the rules. Apology letters. Singing classes, Nirupa and Sujitha. Sujitha, with her black skirt. Her thirst for not too cold, not too hot water at the lunch table. Now, a broken finger. And an ipod with one earphone that did not work. Kanya, with her blue and white salwar, the first time I met her. Her twin sisters. Her grandmother. Her doctor. Her crazy birthday gift. Preji, her gold ring, her fathers email, her grandmothers crab, and her bathroom singing.

Basketball with Soumy that never happened. One match with Shaar and Rach that did happen. Seniors - ragging. Cake cutting, dancing. Anna, her voice on that night of, ahem, the ragging session. Vidya, in her blue salwar and Pravarthika ragging/asking us to do something. Geethus smile, the way shed walk. Sharadha and Deepika. Shaarus cupboard, with the photos stuck on them. Deepikas hair. Her blog that she does not care to publicise. Lucy, whom I will always imagine as their class rep. Shuttle with Soumya. Sneha, whom I will always smile about. The hostel day dances with Preethi and Keerthi. Conversations with Divya ranging from the absurd to the serious. That beaautiful trek with Suman and the hostel bunch.

Exams, results, running late to classes. Sunday trips - stretching the hours. Fake signing at the hostel. Hostel, and its ID cards. College, and Its ID cards. Watchmen, everywhere. Sprinkled on the campus. The college campus, the bridge - how magnificent it looked at night. The complexities that came with the bridge. Road crossing. Watchmen. Rude watchmen.The CC lab, with the Ac, without the Ac. Blue colored screens, Black colored screens, white colored screens. The elitist gumbal that looked down on turbo C's bright blue.

Chill Out, My class, Pranavis house. Pranavi, her guitar, her poise and her cousin. The class rep elections, from first year, when people volunteered, to the last year, when no one volunteered. Aravind, easily one of the most happiest, simplest people I know. Deepthi, her two wheeler, her matching slippers and her mother. Anisha, her seminars, her outlook on life, and her chicken biryani. Balaji -easily as crazy as one can get- his blog. Sindhu, her singing off the back of her id-card. Piki, his xerox copies of Vivekanandhas works, pointers and now, self employment. Gopi- who touched that babies foot in SNDT- whose eyes turn into happy lines when he smiles.

Asking teachers for free hours, getting them. Not knowing what to do with the free hours. Asking people to sing. Kalyan, who sang most of the time. Harsha, who imitated that chaaiwala once, that I will never forget. Playing dumb-c. Preeti Ben, her flight journeys, her driving and that one night in Saarang when we laughed so much. Saurav, who may not remember that night, and his kurta that all of us from Linux Wizard got him. CSV, the magic that he creates from photoshop and the impromptu frizbee lessons at Radisson. Savitha, learning all those marketing lines at midnight at Mumbai. Mags, his twisted language and that SBI application on his phone. Surya, his two wheeler and his blog that is now not so active as it once was. Ut, and her frequent stints at the hostel for ahem, group studies/package work.

Package work, when all of us turned into one single large entity that knew nothing else but to code, working hard. Working our asses off, each semester, each lab. With different people, with the same people. Skipping meals, asking people who go out to get biscuits back to the lab. Staying there all day. Getting these packages evaluated. Satisfaction sometimes and silent frustration sometimes. Learning together. And loving it.

Jabez who enjoys his controversial theories about both the genders. Saba, the class rep who looks like he has it all in control, always. Anai, whose long hair phase is still widely remembered and in demand. Dear darling Premi who along with Priya is mostly always my only audience. Shruthika who has always sat on that desk in front of me, who invariably ends up giving her pen or notes to the faculty in question. Iv whose vanakkam is a flourish that happens instinctively once he sees you, Arovit who had mysterious appointments to keep on that Linux Wizard treat-giving day, G3 Kathirvelu, my fellow teammate, who talks to herself and her computer and lives only on snacks, Swathi whose hushed up blog I read a few days ago which is filled with poems, Sujay who boldly stated his displeasure at a class comitee meeting that I went to, without mincing his words, Suppi who flew in the air to catch the frizbee and ran like the wind, that day on the beach, Jeevan who can talk his way into any group of softies, whichever be the batch in question.

Puzzles, Problem solving, Placement preparations. Celebrating each time anyone got through. Getting permission leters signed at the hostel. Friends houses for lunch, for dinner, for lunch again. Cameras all charged up. People who always took charge of the camera. Posing for the photos. Sharing the photos. Eating at a friends place again. Whenever a weekend was free. Getting food brought to the hostel even, once! Login, the sponsors, the thrills, screams, the cheering, hoarse throats, rustling sarees, jewellery, gypsy jewellery. =)

Shalini, whom I met at Intel, whose blog is one of my happy places. ELS, its colorful people, witty seniors. Sharan, Nithya and Swathi, IM and the long conversations at the amphitheatre. Hari, Anil and Brath. "Mind your Language" and a Happy bunch of juniors who are rearing to go now.

To all the faces in my head as I typed this post out, its been an awesome five years :D cheers!

Dear Mr TTR

2011-04-04T14:09:00.001+05:30

Yes, I carry a color xerox of my license(not the original) when I travel with an e-ticket. Yes, its because when a lousy excuse for a human being steals my wallet, I will not have to lose my only identity for what seems like eternity. Yes, it is my name stuck on that white sheet outside on the train, with my age next to it.Yes, it is my photo on that color xerox of my license and it is again, my name next to it. Yes, both you and me know I was travelling by my name, with my face (yes, the one moulded to my neck, the one resembling the face on the xerox copy). And you know what, I saw the smile light up your face when you realized I dint carry the original ID poof with me. That I had broken the rules. I saw it glow brighter when you saw that the faces around me could not care less that you were charging me 563 INR, and that I was travelling alone. I heard your voice gather momentum and I heard authority in your voice when you told me I was wrong. I believed you. Almost. And when two others got caught for the same issue, when I made a scene and demanded to know why this was being enforced despite there being no doubt about our identities, and you looked at the three of us (the wrong doers) and said, with that glint in your eye, that you could book all three of us in one case and let us go if we each payed you three hundred.

Then, I saw the most pitiful creature before me.

If you only saw yourself, the way I saw you.

Learning to Drive

2011-02-26T11:53:00.000+05:30

Past people whose fingers dangle dangerously near the front edge of the car. Past dogs that have no care in the world, least of all my loud honking machine that is dangerously close. Past other cars that tease and flirt with mine.
With a father whose hands are glued to the hand brake, JUST IN CASE. And a mind that cant distinguish left from right.

Happy Birthday J.

2010-12-02T09:26:00.004+05:30

Judging by the fact that this blog has not been accessed by mankind over the past year and more, I write this post today, on your twenty second birthday.
*May you be the first non-me-human-being to access this blog in so long*
=P
For not changing your landline number over all these years, and for the way im grinning widely at the monitor right now, Happy Birthday J!
Stay awesome! You are the best.

The writing on the paper

2009-09-18T12:20:00.000+05:30

To each of us, our very own theories about notes taking. To most of us, a technique is in place. The factors - time of day, subject in question, the crisp new notebook, classmate to the right, color of the chalk, contents of lunch- all twist and tweak the entire experience. But its been a constant, solid, inerasable part of all our student lives and the experience is worth taking a look at.
*Scene: Notes taking*
*Location: Classroom*
*Actor: Self*
Takes:
· Hand races, tries to keep up with mind. Each word heard is spilt onto the book with a loving perfection. “Blood rushes to my head- Perching precariously on the edge of the seat- I am actually in synch with academia.”
· Written with a tired exhaustion. “Is it time or what?”
· Scrawled across lazily. “Incoherent strings of letters on pieces of paper, pieces that I may not ever look back to.”
· Hand writes. Mind dreams. “You can’t get into my head and hold me ransom- heh!”
· Hands off the paper, Prefers to listen and take it in. “Its all about the learning”
· Or prefers to pretend to listen and take it in. “I care enough to pretend”
· Or not. “I don’t!”
There are people who know that their notes are legendary, that those words they write will be caressed by most Xerox machines in and around college. With such pressure and expectation to live up to, they willfully meet their challenges head on and keep writing. There are also people who are aware of and believe with strong conviction that whatever they write will never again be looked at, and relish the “memorylessness” of their white pages. Then ofcourse, there are the bunch of people with their pages of “hard-to-decipher-scrawling” and a handful of white pages thrown in here and there. Like I said earlier, to each, his own.
O, not to forget how the doodling and the notes exchanging, apart from spicing up said activity, present a range of “in her notebook she actually..” and “In that note he sent me..” stories that will outlive the relevance of the notes themselves.
After all, notes do document- apart from the subject- a slice of our lives, our moods and time.

And one fine intel morning

2009-09-11T10:28:00.006+05:30

Today we had a quarterly(They should just call it a "frequently". Why limit it to once in three months? :)).
*O and quarterly translates to fun day out from work*
It involved cycling. To me cycling brings to mind, a pink/blue lady bird with preferably flowers on the little basket that we would have fixed in front of the cycle. Clear blue skies, nice green meadows. A picnic basket! And nice melodies in my head. :)
Was i in for a surprise or what! I descended from the bus, already checking off the clear blue skies and green meadows on my wish list. TALL sturdy mountain bikes awaited
us, geared ones- with helmets, hand gear, knee caps et all! Surprised but super excited (Show me one person who wouldn't want to wear all that stuff? Even if they did like
little flower baskets?). I got all decked up and hopped on. Yes, literally hopped on. :) Some more complan way back in 4th std may have helped me out, but that's how tall i am,
and THAT was how tall the bicycle was (Despite whatever G3 says! ;)) For one thing, the cycle was geared, and as much as I love my scooty pep back home, Iv never ridden a
geared two wheeler. So Im trying to process gearing in my head while also trying to rekindle my cycling instincts. The last time I rode one, and I pedalled, it moved!
Today, either physics gave up on me or I am really that big a wuss! I hav a sneaking suspicion that the tire was punctured. At least thats what I'm telling myself! ;)
Well about twenty minutes of that, and I gave up all hope. I walked with my cycle while every one else rode past and tried to make it up to my bruised ego. But then, honk honk, came the truck behind me. With G3, Deepika and some extra cycles riding on top of it! One look at their hair flying in the wind, and the smiles on their faces. Next minute, I was up there in the truck. So was my cycle. So much for cycling. Heh! Well, I'v always wanted to ride on a truck as well.Wish list check!
The truck was just pure bliss. I want to state that the air smelled sweet. Iv only read that phrase in the books, and always wondered how you could smell a taste. Dont ask me
how. It did. It smelled sweeet. Green expanses for as fas as the eye can go, and a random localite now and then, stopping to look at all the excitement. And the green,
what a green! How many greens! And we club all those shades under a single name. Degrade it by adding Light slash Dark against it! :)
That was the upside of the truck. The downside was, well, watching the rest of the gang cycle, watching them pant at stop points, handing out chocolate bars and water (technically G3 did;)) to well deserved sporty people! sighs!At one point, some one mentioned it as being mostly down hill from there, and that brought all of us on the truck back to life.We jumped down, chose cycles and hopped on again. Woohooo! Rising from the ashes it is!
Down hill, it turns out, was not exactly what i had in mind either. I dont even know what i had in mind. Maybe that was the problem :) But Im digressing.
Downhill, turned out to be mountain slopes that were super steep. Steep Mountain slopes whose paths were studded with rocks And on a cycle that followed Einstein's thoughts on gravity. (On second thought, physics din't actually give up on me. Thanks, you!) I was flyyyyyyyyyyyying thud thud thud down hill, with my cycle bouncing up and down the muddy slope,its slushes, its rocks,and its pits. Holding on to the handle bars for dear life as it twisted and turned on the tricky slopes. And me surprisingly on the cycle all the while. Eyes may hav been closed. But on the cycle, all the same. Well, not for long, there was this once, no actually, more than once no of times that i wasnt on my cycle and was seen sitting/lying/between-sitting-and-lying on top of/below/entwined with said cycle.
Not what I had in mind, but one of the best sources of adrenaline rush I have ever had.
And to quote some one I know, "Doing things like this leave you feeling good about
yourself." And it did. :)

All the colorful people, and all their beaming faces.

2009-08-23T13:42:00.008+05:30

People have this capacity to leave behind a slice of themselves, their moods. And thats wat makes life so awesome when u run into people. People with big bright smiles. Colorful people. People whose pasted memories got all non-grainy when you saw them. In your head.

Inside a seminar hall. Or outside it. On the fourth floor of M block. Under a tree fiddling with twigs. Or on fourth seaward road, amidst flashes of light and christmassy blankets. An attempt to surprise twice even!

I, btw, am still smiling.

Extolling the virtues of a noise - gaaaa

2009-07-21T15:03:00.008+05:30

Wikipedia says gaaaa stands for Georgia Alliance of African American Attorneys. I disagree.

I mean, gaaa could stand for Georgia Alliance of African American Attorneys for all the African American Attorneys in Georgia, but for the rest of us non African American, non attorneys not in Georgia- gaaaa is a noise, that does not belong to tamil or english, that my brain conjured up, that other peoples brains can still understand.

Because the noise is the meaning.

Its beauty lies in the timelessness and reasonlessness of its existance, I think- The way it colors itself and sometimes, the entire mangled up sentence that i spew, that its a part of.

When there s nothing to say. When theres too much too say.
When that milk overflows in the cofee mug.
When that street dog is one inch away from your shoe and is flirting with ur shadow.
When you realise you'v actually spent eight thousand all month and not six.
When irctc shows all train tickets booked for one week during,before and after the date that you want.
When you hav a joke about a vacuum cleaner that u want to send to a friend and u dont know how to title the subject.
When you havnt blogged in a long while and dont know what to blog about.

I thank thee, gaaaaa, for making thyself available at all times, in all contexts. For just giving me something to say.

Purple and Gold dance in my eyes~

2009-06-04T18:05:00.008+05:30

Its 6 Fifteen PM, The Intel Office seems eerily silent. Most cubes are empty. Those that arent, house people who are intensely into their work. Mine although, is just a lil bit different- 3 dairy milk wrappers lie around me, exhausted from the sheer pressure of being the object of intense temptation. Threading, mutex and python run loosely in my head, interspersed with moments of the earlier chocolate eating experience.

Its one thing to byte into a bar of dairy milk, knowing that you dont have to share it with anyone (*Humour not intended* Chocolates and sharing should not belong in the same sentence *Solemn face*) and Its another thing to get high on choclate!

*Solemn face persists, eyes become dreamy*

One busy week

2009-06-01T16:11:00.004+05:30

One trip to club Kabana. One day in the water. Two servings of icecream. One day with amma and deb. Two servings of icecream again. One morning with cold. One afternoon of temperature.One trip to the Intel clinic. One evening of head ache and truely feeling in the dumps. One night when I slept like I din know what hit me. One half day off from work(my first). One afternoon spent again, at the Intel clinic. One anxious nurse. Three unsuccessful attempts at bringing my temperature down. One thermometer that read 102. One apprehensive doctor. One sweet admin. Three friends who dint mind missing work. One visit to the hospital. One look at my Intel tag. One push on the bed- One BP test, One blood test, One blood sugar level check, One pulse check. One bottle of drips. One whiney patient who felt completely healthy and wanted to tear stuff away from her hand and run out. Two angry friends who came visting in the evening. One more bottle of drips, this time refused by the patient. One matronly woman who was hell bent on making the patient stay the night. One sign in a refusal of treatment form. One thousand and five hundred rupees and a pink slip. Six Dolo 650's. One autoride from there. One more day off from work. Twenty seven people asking if I was ok. Five jerkin wearing, cough emitting, icecream-less, pastry-less, coke-less, laddu-less days.

High on drama.

I also know.

2009-05-25T14:03:00.002+05:30

I also know now that setting my g-talk status to my blog link gets me more hits.

Cheers to cheap tricks!

I know.

2009-05-25T12:08:00.007+05:30

Fifteen days have gone by.
I know the last two digits of my new phone number by heart.
I know my pg address by heart.
I know which bus/intel shuttle takes me to my stop.
I know two complete routes which take me from my bus stop/shuttle stop to my pg.
I know that maadi means take, I know that gothilla means dont know.
I know that my house cleaning lady doesnt like me and my hair (how dare she!), and prefers premi and pranavi to me.
I know that there will atleast be a minimum of 5 stray dogs right outside my pg and somedays if Im lucky, I know that there may be 3 stray dogs + 1 big fat cow slash buffalo on the same road.
I know my intel world wide id number byheart (that by the way is what my existance has been reduced to at intel, a number strung together from 8 digits).
I know how to lock my laptop to the docking station by simultaneously pressing a couple of other buttons and turning a key forward and backward and reciting prayers heavenward, while looking completely laid back like I know what Im doing ( this one took a lot of effort out of me, but I can say now, that iv mastered the look).
I know exactly where i'v gotta place my hand so that the magical tap at work can detect an unwashed hand below its nose and squirt out water.
I know exactly how to make my coffe at the caffe machine, how to make it produce those loud growls that intimidate any 2 week old intern.
I know how to fling my hand into the tissue cabnet and pull one out from its absurdly shaped hole with a flourish instead of emerging with nothing and chosing to use my jeans to serve the same purpose, as had been done during the 1st two weeks.
I know how to write out my own professsional email, regarding doubts about a tool, address it as "hi", send it to a total stranger working abroad and sign it, ahem, "regards, nacha", sounding like I really am sending across my regards to him slash her.
I know that no human being will hence forth come forward to debug my code, and the giant G word is all that I have, and Iv made my peace with it.
I know that conversations at work, will remain mostly either phone conversations(that embarrass you in the dead silence of the office), or instant chats (that still embarrass you because of the tut tut noise from the keyboard while u type) across cubes, direct conversation that involves staring at the walls of your own cube and recieving responses from faceless people across the walls of the cube (that embarrass u even further cus people about twenty cubes around u will be forced to listen to and process the contents of the conversation).
I know that the snacks cube is right next to mine and i have unmonitored access to it. :)
I know that my work at intel is done exactly by 5 everyday, and that I can get on to gtalk and say bbye with this smiley ":P" to every other soul in my class and get sworn at with the choicest of phrases.

Its been a humbling learning experience. Intel rocks.

Masala movie made, released, running successfully!

2009-05-09T08:53:00.007+05:30

The past few months have been nothing short of exciting, to say the very least - played out with twists,turns, goof ups and climaxes- life has truely been one heck of a masala movie!
Scene one lazy morning, at the hostel, im lying stretched out on my back, haven showered or breakfasted, wondering if lunch outside would be a viable option.. phone call from weird number * grumble- mumble * pick it up.
Loud chirpy voice- "Is this nacha?"
Still grumbling, I go "Yes, what can i do for you?"
Voice, Louder and chirpier still, "Im bla bla bla from ABC and i would like to interview you for the post of bla bla bla. Do u hav a few minutes on you?"
Jaw drops, hits the ground, bounces back and slams my teeth!

I go "err... err.."
* Inside voices thinking, no dude not now, not now, NOT NOW, give me another day, or two, or a week , or a month, a year even? Ill perfect this stuff and then Ill call U when Im ready!*
Outside voices squeaks in horror- "err.."
*Inside voice wails "You said err already jackass, make a different noise at the very least!!"
Outside voice recognise the truth in the arguement posed by fellow inner counterpart and goes "Umm.." and then mentally congradulates itself on coming up with a different sounding incoherant noise.

By this point loud chirpy voice gets irritated and says "Should i call at another time?"
Inner voices rejoice, and start doing the Joey dance.
But Outer voice stops them with an awkward plus embarrassed "No sir, Now is fine, go on" at which point all of the little people in my head fall silent and stare at each other in horified silence. At this reaction, the Outer voice cringes silently, and hopes the little people would speak out in time for the answering.
The questioning begins, the lil tykes dont disappoint me- somehow that day, I was done with my first phone interview! The first of many to come.

Wooohooo people! Iv my own driving license (4 wheeler, but driving is another story alltogether) - and Iv attended my very own interview- that takes me way too closer to being a fulltime member of the adult club! Twenty is huge! Cheers to all of us twenties!

O and Intel, Bangalore - here I come! :)

p.s: This was NOT the Intel interview, just in case any of u were wondering. For that, I was forewarned! :)

Colour.Brushes.Pencils.Ink.Paper.

2009-02-08T07:01:00.030+05:30

Blissful week this has been- sighs! And it was supose to hav been a complete week of prepping for interviews! That, was SO not wat the week was..*Guilt written across my face* Ah wat the hell- unexpected luxuries like this week rarely come by..Its like sumone gave u an extra week on your year - Not jus to you, but to everyone else who had anything at all to do with colleges, even amma had the week off! :)

Although I must admit, midweek, I was kinda dying from boredom, but that kinda death never kills does it? Found time to do most of the things I wanted to - So Yay for me!

This was a rock that i picked outside my house and oil pastel crayon d it! Oil pastels still feel so good in ur palm! :)

And this, was inspired by the angelic baby next door, whom i swear, by far, is the cutest looking represntative of the human race that I have ever laid my eyes on!
Dug deep into my cupboard and found some old stuff that I must hav painted right out of school. Which is why cupboards are priceless, the mystery with which u lose things inside them is totally worth the thrill of finding them back when u least expect to! I remember looking at some bottle of perfume for inspiration for this one with the flowers.

And then some random shrubbery, water colours really rock!
The layers that people can add,its such a rich medium... I guess Im happiest when I watch some one flesh out the entire painting, giving form and depth with every layer- sighs! Now that, would be my dream job, to stand next to a brilliant artist and watch the way the water colors are used, to just stand by and watch a professional's brush strokes.. Sighs! And this one,with the lamps, I remember, was done in total frustration when I went on and on about how there was nothing nice looking to paint in this house anymore, and people at home jus lost it , put these Velakkus in front of me and said here, If u really want to paint stop whining and get to work! :P

And this one, was just after 12th, a week before my Msc. Software interview, I remember, tried to illustrate for one of Devi' s childcraft stories.. :)

Pencil sketching, on the other hand, always holds it charm for me, mostly bcus it involves mainly only a pencil and paper, and does not involve hunting for brushes, the palette or a container for the water.. Also, considering how clumsy I can get, the damaged wrecked by water all over a painting is far more devastating than pencils all over a sketch. On the other hand, pencil sketching means I have to go on a scavenger hunt for an eraser, which I believe to be non existant within the confines of my house, or my room at the hostel. So I tend to not use an eraser, and if it sucks way too much, then I jus pretend I had nothing to do with the sketch ( :P ) - and that seems to help, for now.So one day, I get bak home from Sandhyas place, totally inspired by the stuff she does, and try something along similar lines.. I ended up with these- an attempt at carricaturing Barrack obama that exactly 6 ppl got right, and an extremely sad attempt at the same with Hilary Clinton, and only 1 person recognised her- and that was my sister! :( Work like that, better left to the pro's I guess.. Anyway, carricature watching proves to be way more fun than attempting it and failing miserably- So I don hav any regrets now.. And now, Im in this phase where I pick random faces off the tv or the newspaper and do very rough sketching- and since no one s can compare my sketch with the original, I can only go mua ha ha ha ha! :D

P.S: Don ask me why the pictures all of a sudden, jus that everyone kept saying this space had too much textual content, and I agree, and I was turning purple with guilt cus im here at chennai the past week and I hadnt posted anything at all..

* Relief floods my face as the purple ebbs away and normalcy returns to my guilt ridden heart beat*

Package time -

2008-11-18T09:15:00.001+05:30

Its the secret codeword for "time to look reely important and busy and depressed and frustrated with life in general" - it involves staring at chaotic pieces of code that are strung together blindly on poor, old laptop that s already stuttering and stammering away into oblivion.

Zoom out a little, into the hostel room in general and ull find more of the same species, all creatures exhibitting similar behavioural patterns - an intense frown on the face, a white/blue/black screen on the corresponding laptop that beeps/burps/growls errors at regular intervals, the beeps are followed by further intensification of the existing frown, widening of the eyes, closing of the eyes, a two minute prayer heavenward, opening of the eyes, breathe in, breathe out, fingers that start to squiggle amoeba shapes in the air, inward sighs, outward groans accompanied by frustrated yells, sometimes a slap of the forehead, a moment of euphoria, inspired fingers that race over the keyboard, another beep/burp/growl of an error and we r back on track!

ps: id like all well wishers to know that this is an old post and that iv now made it through those difficult dark times. Im currently alive and breathing but im not too sure about the laptop :/

To each- his own way of grieving

2008-09-17T08:40:00.008+05:30

To islero88, for inspiring me to blog,
To someone whose comments on this space will truly be cherished,
For the unparalleled wit and sense of humour that defined you,
For the crazy antics you played with your face,
For the uncanny imitations of a certain Mr.Jeeves,
For your beloved sunny a.k.a the sewing machine,
For the countless ways in which you touched our lives,
For the mad moments that we all shared,
For the warm and sincere person that you were.

arbit-

2008-08-31T22:41:00.001+05:30

Its a life that invites,
That pulls,pricks and mocks,
A set of scenes strung together,
A thin strand of memory flipping past them all,
The anticipation of the next moment,
Is determinedly washed down by the previous,
To put a stop to it all,
To paint black over them all,
To think of nothing for just a moment,
To feel the emptyness throbbing thro the body,
To respond to all that with nothing at all,
To be at peace with the mind for once!

NOD along everybody!!

2008-08-26T23:07:00.005+05:30

This one's for all of us poor mortals who indulge in that masterful practice of "eyes wide open-head goes up -head goes down-eyes still open" during class. And no- I'm not talking about the much over rated -cliched- much discussed (and frankly a trifle too boring?) set of sleepers-This blog is for the few of us uncool ones- the ones that stay awake and do the head bobbing.

I mean -Enough has been said about all other stereotypes- enough people belong to them- we- the less discussed -the less thought about.We, who have taken the tough decision to stay awake and battle it all out- this blog takes our cause!
And the rest of the world can just pretend to screw up their noses in disgust for all we care but this is who we are- and we know you'r squirming in your seat right now.We'v known it all along ppl! Its official- WAR has been declared!Not us Vs you- silly! Its us Vs them- the ones with the chalk and the walk and the talk-

They declared the war- i maintain-They start with a word, add another word, and then another, and then may be a cuple more and then do it all again!By the fourth round you will find most victims shifting restlessly and another 3-4 rounds later each is into

humming her/his own tune in the head
Turning around to see who bunked class(Lucky them!)
Lovingly patting the edges of ones cell phone
Wondering what day of the week it is
Comparing bracelets with ppl 1 row away
Reminiscing about how one shouldn't have missed that day morning's Dosa in the mess and how one should wake up in the morning the first time the alarm goes off (In my defence- the alarm was soothing to the ear)
Wondering why the word why meant why

This could like go on-victims are too many- oppurtunities -even more - but the point is that "Ms/Mr Lovingly patting cell phone" by now picks up her/his cell phone and starts punching out the keys with lightning speed,mind numbing accuracy and all this without moving even a single muscle in the rest of(excluding the hand) her/his body.And that, we know, is when the victim recognises herself as being victimised- the first sign of failure!

We, on the other hand, we r still bobbing,let them plough on relentlessly- word after word that they throw at us- we give it back to them.Nod after nod we swallow their weapons, take it with a straight face and still end up looking brave and ready for the next word.I mean, we'v set our inds on staying awake through the entire ordeal-and by staying awake I refer to the "not acting out" of the following acts:

*No shut eye- primary rule.

*No half opened eye that could pass off for the above option either.

*No dropping the head down on the table- it is vital that there be intense eye contact between the victim and the perpetrator in order for both sides to continue waging this hideous war.

We recognise, at this point, that we do take a lot of stress whilst bobbing- and assume that if the bobbing were to become irregular- it would result in the victims(who have by now totally switched off)-not the bobbers- being questioned at random- and that is a scary prospect!(However much we may differ by principle- it all amounts to the fact that we r all students dosnt it!)

And thats why people, that is why we still go on- in the larger interests of the community!

In extreme cases of wartime danger, the bobbers are allowed to doodle on the extreme corners of their notebook's to their hearts content whilst still bobbing the head and looking extremely intrested in the weapons that whiz by.

A word of advice, to prospective bobbers- notes taking is a red herring for the perpetrators and comes as a major relief given the fact that you can avoid eye contact for a while.Also extremely useful is the 3 phase "dropping the pencil-bending down to pick it-never coming up again" act that brings immediate and effective release to prolonged eye contact.However these respites are against the principles of head bobbing and are frowned upon by true blue loyalists!

Meanwhile-Happy bobbing!

The defense rests.

Hmph!

2008-06-12T14:15:00.004+05:30

A troubled mind. Waves of nervousness. Anxiety that grips. Alive with questions. Huge gaping holes. oodles of self doubt. smiles that are incomplete. Days that swing by- meaningless.Purpose of life - the very theme.

Brilliantly laid out plans, a smashboard that rocks it all, a tunnel that seems to choke, extends up to infinity.

When the meaning of infinity slaps you. When the person that u are is at conflicts. When all those doubts eat u up from within.

Lingering moments of nerve wrenching pain. The hurt. The mockery. The very idea.
Hmph!

And thats what you thought..

2008-03-21T08:29:00.008+05:30

Its an exhausting experience to catch a cold - it is! So you r walking along in this chirpy "life's for me" mood.. smiling at the people around you.. wondering why you arent this way always.. think evreyone loves you.. think you luv everyone.. theres this really soft mellow tune playing itself in your head.. and suddenly somewhere down the road, you find your throat becoming dry and raspy.. and the music in your head becomes grainy and scratchy.. you think your throats giving up on you.. ur imagining a clumsy hand on the insides of your throat banging on the walls of your skin for your attention.. but noooo!! youv got this weird obsession with not falling sick and pretending to be healthy and efficient and not at all dramatic and what not.. so you stil continue the walk, but a small frown clouds your forehead and the tune gets scratchier..

And then the day floats by, with small voices within you whispering about the major cold outbreak that they foresee.. you shush them up rudely and refuse to smile at anyone else.. you decide to eat some icecream out of contempt for the earlier conversation with the voices..

The icecream tastes so soothing.. Its like your telling those voices "ha! so there you go!" and the pesky fat hand in your throat seems to stop its banging.. the icecream melts in your mouth.. you feel it making its way down your throat.. this- you think to urself, this is what life is about- these small moments when you spoil yourself.. you watch the rupee notes trade hands and think to yourself about money being well spent.. if ever investements played any role in your nineteen year old life, this moment was worth the twentyfive bucks!!And then you turn to everything else.. feel yourself getting back the old tune again..Only this time, theres a slightly heavier head to support on your neck..Its like someone watered the insides of your brain.. Yoour thoughts linger on watering the brain..You return a few moments later to your head thats heavier now, than when you started thinking about it.. funny, you say to yourself, what if the head becomes heavier after thinking heavy thoughts! This thought is rudely interrupted by a physical awakening within you-- tumbling out of you with the fury of the avenged-- * hachooo! * *Mua ha ha ha* it seems to say.. sigh! ..With slouched shoulders and a shake of the head, you have no choice but to accept defeat!

P.S: is there a better "noise word" to sound out a sneeze?? All twisted-coined up words are welcome! :)

EYE DO(?)

2008-03-19T11:52:00.001+05:30

Ever since i v been shifting in and out of c b e, my eye has taken a strange route towards excerscising its views on the current weather/political scenario.. All of a sudden I wake up in the morning, and i find that one of my eyes hav taken the chinese route towards appearance ..A small lil event occurs around my left eye..

Im going to describe in unwanted excession of detail because im that jobless. so there! it starts with the left most corner of the left eye... Beginning there, a swelling grows around the eye into what i can only describe as a mound of flesh above the eye, intruding into the space rightly reserved for my left eye, leaving my left eye with very little option but to squueeze itself in the remainder of the area, thereby faithfully distorting my vision-- ah but what the hell.. a lil hospitality never hurt any one.. So here I am, painfully parading my genrosity to the outside world, looking like i was punched in my eye by someone last night over the last idly that they served in the hostel..

Sometimes i wonder-- why? why dear god? did u chose the left eye.. The haughty right eye mocks at its counter part and all that people talk about these days when they meet me-- uh oh whats that on the eye..In fact when people don ask me about my eye i tend to get all nervous and jumpy till they notice it and go "bla bla the eye?" and then i breathe easy and say "ok thats one person more on this planet whos now educated about the sty in my eye.."

Its these exact odd days when everybody suddenly wants to take pictures.. go out for food, movies and what not..and ill tag along feeling a bit like i landed from mars and forgot to change my disguise to that of a human..And on the way out when peopl run out of topics.. they look around for sumthing bizarre.. spot my eye and go.. "so hows the eye doing? I think it s better than yesterday.."and sumbody else goes.. "ah.. swear i almost saw her eye disappear under the swelling today morning.. todays her worst yet.." and there i am- beng dissected apart and discussed with more intensity than the emergency in pakistan! I shouldn complain -- guiltyly enough, I actually enjoy the attention.. I jus look into the mirror and sigh like im sufferring from some undiscovered exotic disease and everybody comes up to me and oh so sweetly suggests all those various medicines.. one among which I swear made me glue my eyelid to my eye.. after that i decided-- "Let nature do as it pleases with my face!! i don give a dam!!"

That -- it did, and suddenly (as it always is) one day i wake up in the morning and i find my strange sty has vacated, both my eyes look the same, and i can see clearly again.. Wierdly enough, what is it that i feel -- emptyness?

Man- my hero

2007-11-21T11:06:00.001+05:30

There is a certain finality about death.. Some thing that humbles you, makes you wonder who you were fooling all along..All this while, you thought man was the ultimate being, blessed with reason, reason gave you security, comfort, something to fall back on, Reason was god, possessing it - he could reach unthinkable heights. The world was his to conquer and enrich, land -his to mould, air- his to breathe & preserve, water- his to use & purify, brilliance- his to achieve.. too bad he was the only one who could understand the magnitude of it all!! You thought he was out there armed with a brain like none other, that could perform magic beyond the scope of this mundane world..
Glory be to man!

And then, it rings in your ear, the death bell.. the head bows, pride and reason are far away, science and logic are mere wisps of a fantasy long gone, no equations can bring to light the reasoning behind the final act.. When the body is humiliated,mocked at, the proud body-- once controlling the planet, learning about the universe, pushing horizons, paralleled to god, suddenly is just a machine that stopped working- a mere solid- stripped of its soul, naked without emotions, the ability to feel,think,reason...

You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all! And there you were, thinking all those glorious things, tomorrow, there you will be, lying on your back, incapable of anything you boasted of, even the trivial things you took for granted.. A frustration descends on you, your incapability to take things blindly questions from within, the need to reason it out tortures, the answer scares you, you d rather ignore it than go further, you rubbish it and walk tall again..
Dig deep down-- inside it all, you know though, you ARE reduced to a mere player in the big game..or.. not...?

A journey to remember

2007-10-24T17:20:00.000+05:30

So last night, I was going to get back home from cbe to chennai, and i was super psyched about the entire "getting back home after so long " thingy, I jus packed up all my clothes, dished in my pen drive, snatched away my laptop and strode out of LH (which by the way stands for the ladies hostel, PSG tech for those ignorant few!) feeling completely exhilarated! Chennai here i come!
And there it began, adding to my sad tryst with weird train journeys! First, Enter Mr.PSGTECH watchman with his mad whistle that hes absolutely in luv with! He hauls me over to one side of the street, demands to know who i am, where my ID card is and what the hell was i doing out on the streets at 8 ? Muttering to myself about my incapability to carry the blessed card with me wherever i go, I helplessly stood there gaping at him till good sense prevailed and i explained to him that i had a train to catch at 8 45! Still glaring at me with eyes that contained stern disaproval he waved me away with one swish of his hand.. At that exact moment, the rain gods decide to shower the earth with their exceeding generosity and i was the unlikely victim- me and my laptop that was disguised as a bagful of dirty clothes. (For fear of night time laptop theives! - to quote my mom) Smarting at the unfairness of it all, I jumped into the first auto i could hop on to and muttered "railway station"..

And that was where i got off-- the crowd, its vague insecurities, a general ambience of discomfort, and me- right at the heart of it all..Sitting in the middle of this diverse group of people, all alone with a cell phone that inevitably runs out of charge the moment u need it the most, I had no option but to look around me for amusement.Now i cant help it if i talk of people as if they were laid out for my wanting to objectify them, but it amuses me all the same- jus as long as they are perfect strangers!

Ill start with this man behind me with a voice that can only resemble the voice that I imagine belongs to Santa. His goal for the evening seemed to be to make sure that all those who were waiting for the Blue Mountain Express that night, should be educated about all issues covered in the morning's paper! Noble though his cause, I can only describe the looks that my fellow passengers doled out to him! Oblivious to it all, he went on and on, gaining encouragement from his resounding voice and the cold, tense,hostile glares from all around.. At one point people jus started to tune out his voice and went back to their usual routine of counting the different luggages and keeping children,if any, within a radius of 1 metre.

Then there were those who hav the "I -hav- to- be- somewhere- sometime- look" on their faces,with eyebrows knit up real close and a huge watch on their hand that they keep checking every 17 seconds, who run across the station, bumping into ,usually, ladies with huge baskets filled with goodies who in turn curse these speed maniacs , adding to the color of the situation. And then all these old, wise people start tsk tsking, "ah! todays youngsters hav no time for the bla bla no manners bla".. That goes on for a while, after which suddenly, a light glows in some corner of the station, and a noise that starts as a whisper evolves into a loud commotion "Ah ! the trains comming!" Necks crane all over, as people get on their tip toes pushing down the luggage that was till then faithfully kept track of.. Slowly the light comes closer, and people watch it with a serene glow spreading over their faces.Oh! to catch sight of that train! No god would hav had it so good in any temple by even the most religious disciples.. Finally, enter trian NO. 2672 with its loud, tired, chugging. A mad dynamic fervour grips the crowd as it breaks free from the monotony that comes with waiting for a train. People dash back and forth, manners disappear and within a gap of ten minutes half the platform has found its way inside the train, choking up the passage ways as chaos reigns! The other half dutifully queue up outside the windows- all yelling out the same content in a variety of languages which i personally found mind blowing, but the gist of which was- "please take tablets" to the man on the left who looked like he was about to faint from joy/fatigue from having secured his correct seat on the train, "please call after you reach" to two aunties who were having heart attacks on discovering that they both had upper berths to sleep on,"please take good care of the child" to a couple who were visibly having trouble keeping in place their super hyper son of two years- and so on and so forth.

With all that done, I shove my luggage under my seat, with the disguised laptop sitting tight next to me( "U dare not let it out of your sight"--to quote my mom) and for the fifteenth time that day, groan that all i hav is an RAC (which means, again for those ignorant few, that i don hav a berth and hav to travel the entire night sitting, thanks to my travel agents last minute references)! Missing the constant nagging of my cell phone and thouroughly wishing I had something to do, I surveyed the surroundings.. I did the "glad to meet you-all you nice ppl " smile, as did they.. Only they had an added "why-are-you-travelling-all-alone-and-why-did-nobody-yell-to-u-from-the-window" eyebrow raise.
And then there was the awkward silence, which din last too long thanks to the feisty 2 year old co passenger of mine who suddenly thought to himself, this girl comes with an entire world of objects that I can explore, and fixed himself onto me. Taken in by surprise, but flattered by the attention, I fell for the trick and tried asking him,"Whats your name kiddo?" and all he came up with was "vaaave veavee".I took some time comprehending what Mr.2 year old jus said, but before i got there his mom intervened and said, hes trying to say sidhu! Ah-- almost decrypted that one! Assuming that the lil chap was still interseted in some bonding and not wanting to be the snobby loner I reached out to him and tried to make conversation..There i hit a snag! now, what does one converse with a two year old who pronounces sidhu as "vaave veavee"? I settled on something not too intellectual and ended up using an obscure form of sign language.I pointed out to those objects outside the train, which i thought might engage his attention.Apparently, he din think so. He went right for the laptop and started pounding on it as hard as he could. So much for the clever disguise! As the shock and mortification on my face showed itself out, the proud mother claimed ever so sweetly, "He s slighlty playful!",Ah yes mam i agree-- most fervently- i do! Not to be outdone by the child, i again tried the sign language -only, this time, i did whatever the kid did (You know ,except for the pounding on the laptop part) it seemed to engage him for a while, but then he decided he had had enough with stupid adults cooing nonsense in sugary sweet voices at him and shifted his attention towards ahem ..dirty clothes bag again.. I was ready this time, and brandished out my dupatta at him..Just as i was thinking that wearing the dupatta finally pays off, he came to the conclusion that I was the villain in his endeavor to reach out to the laptop and started pelting me with his tiny lil fists.

Now Im a strong girl, but this was a bolt from the blue, and the kiddo, cute though he was, had bony fists and i was about to voice my strong dissent to his mother when he took another route..He attacked my hair! Now that was jus crossing the limit, any one whos set eyes on me knows how much trouble I have keeping my hair in place and this fellow caught me in a weak moment! I was prepared for a physical fight, and was ready to put myself in mortal peril ( ok thats a lil too much) for the abuse bestowed on my hair when his mother took charge at last and reclaimed her bundle of joy.

Meanwhile, both aunties having decided to brace themselves in their journey towards the upperberth from the lower berth, sought out my support lest they fall and crash on me and my now-pretty much exposed and harassed laptop. After having settled both aunties, old man with the pills seemed a lil too inclined to sleep, so off went the lights and on came the snores! I donno from which direction those ghostly noises resonated but it outdid dolby digital surround sound, and sort of filled my brain with cotton..(?) This rhythmic torture was interrupted only by Mr 2 year olds pleas for silence.. Somehow amidst all this, i fell asleep blissfully unaware of the fact that a copassenger may enter the train at any point later..

Around 1 I think, theres this tall lanky fellow who yells "hsdgkjehgjhasgd hgdhgas sumthin sumthing RAC hein? " in hindi at me, and (bravo me!) I woke up from sleep, gave him this "dude- get- out- of- my- face" look and drifted away.. Again came the "sumthing sumthing sumthing hein " lingo that i cant follow for nuts, at which point my patience started thinning out and i said in clearly articulated english that i could not follow a word of what he was saying. Thats when he did the blinking followed by the "hein hun thing".. years of third-language hindi training from 4th standard came flooding back to me, in a life defining moment, when i realised i was sleeping with an RAC ticket on his part of the seat..Sheepishly grinning i got up and the man seemed relieved to find that i was not mad..Good for him, cus for my part i wasnt so sure about him..

Sleep eluded me after that,what with "wierd-hein-hun guy" squatting across from me, it made it impossible for me to get back to sleep. So there i was till two in the morning staring out at absolute darkness wondering what on hell could have made me take this trip.After two it was almost the same, except that the rain gods had some more tricks up their sleeve( Note to self: Check if rain gods wear clothes with sleeves), and the rain came pelting down into my seat, despite the fact that the window was shut, and i remember vaguely trying to figure out how that was possible, and amidst the rain, the wierd guy and the snores I remember promising myself a warm bed to sleep on the next day, and with that in mind and a posture that was a cross between 2 yoga postures I imagine I drifted off for exactly twenty minutes until old man with pills decided to use the loo and woke me up roughly to let me know that i was to take care of his pills box(and whatever else was in there)..
If I was sane enough to hav cried, I would have cried my eyes out.. but I was beyond all that and all I could do was nod meekly and hope the nightmare would end soon.. End it did -- at 4 55 when lights went back on and the snores went off, when wierd guy,pills man,couple wit kid, aunty's from the upper birth all got off the train..I was the last to get off-- setting foot on Chennai Central finally! Home at last!

P.s: was that too long? I tend to go on a lot!

Long time overdue!

2007-10-24T16:39:00.001+05:30

Between us, this blog has been long time over due..There s always been this nagging lil voice in my head that kept going "BLOG! BLOG!" and call it lazyness if you want( i jus think thats using too crude a term for the art of practicing leisure,whilst appreciating it blissfully), somehow for some reason I jus kept putting it off.. But now here it is-- My musings!!

Oh and people, (who ever it is whos kind enough to keep reading) do leave behind your comments and what ever else it is that u want to..I hav no experience what so ever in this area, so please bare with me! And for all you ppl who keep writing so much to shame me into creating my own blog-- keep going!And for every one else(me inclusive) - lets jus hope this whole idea doesn die a premature death!