Ideology of an Im-perfectionist!!

This was long due, as in I had the idea long back…right the day I decided to leave my first job within fifteen days of my joining :) and certainly I’m sure there’s nothing to boast about….

This is just a point of view or to be more just my perception….and on no account I believe that people would agree, accept and relate to me… as I said… it’s just an Idea and that’s it!

…….

My previous employer was an extremely generous man… he gave me a trial ground to try everything unconventional and happening…be it a sauna bath in the middle of the night or slogging 12 hours at a stretch and the wonderful part was that he even paid me for all my hits and misses, so this isn’t an obituary to his HR policies and neither a back bighting trick on his “hard core” “grueling” “unjust” training schedules (by the way these adjectives aren’t mine…these are a gift from my colleague of what she thought). So as I go about I would certainly draw instances from my short stint at his “training camp” but this piece of writing is strictly not about him.

I was looking at the tall oxford replica library which is constructed for all the trainees to sit and study when I first thought about how the first civil engineer would have thought of something like this magnificent……oh sure that this one was a copy cat but then what about the one who did build it at the first place…. I mean something would have struck him right, an inspiration to motivate him…long Gothic style towers and rims of glasses to beautify it, and then suddenly….. The very next second another thought struck me

“Why the whole thing doesn’t just crumble down to nothing” …

well I did not want to get inside and study so obviously this thing came up to me… but this is just a small instant of my reaction to tough things….or u can say an im-perfectionists reaction to anything that’s “not her kind”

I am not a sadist and I am not a pessimist but trust me this is how an im-perfectionist thinks every Sunday night when he knows he will have to get up the very next day and slog…this is usually his reaction when his day goes bad and suddenly everything becomes irritating and disgusting…this is how he believes that the world is made off….mostly of dislikes dotted with few likings.

But my point is who merits over whom? Is an im-perfectionist better than a perfectionist or vice versa? Drawing parallel thoughts about each I have a strong belief that a person is not satisfied because he or she thinks that he hasn’t yet achieved what he deserves. And contrary to this theory a perfectionist though after lots and lots of strikes comes to it that yes he has achieved to his optimum. One perfectionist might have thought about how to start a business with information technology but it’s the im-perfectionist like me who is helping it to run day after day. May be he is not satisfied, may be he is a timid creature and maybe he is just not the kind to think something big but whosoever has the capability to think big can only make it big when the im-perfectionist comes to help.

I may sound communist but this isn’t a communist approach… neither am I boasting of my thinking, all I am saying is when the perfectionist stops at a halt it’s the im-perfectionist who keeps the wheel turning in hope that someday he will reach where he wishes too.

I was reading to Richard DeVos and he was talking of some difference between stubbornness and perseverance, well I think it is equally applicable to those who believe in perfection and are incapable of the flexibility that the either has. He is dissatisfied till he achieves his goal…Good… but the unfortunate thing is he sets goal that are achievable.

On the other hand an Im-perfectionist has his goals too…they are just too far to achieve and this pulls him farther and farther and farther of his capabilities.

I had looked up to so many of them who are perfectionists, idolized them, wanted to become like them but unfortunately each of them failed to inspire me to become someone who I can respect. They did fuel me with faith and confidence, they did teach me to persevere…to hang on till the last minute but they never taught me to cut the cord and experience uncertainty for the good.

They never taught me how to simply wander sometimes, aimless searching for ones desire and still not being lost.

…….

That night I was at the cafeteria Coffee shop when I sat on the empty mess of 2000 chairs alone and watching a glass cased elevator go up and down as employees ended there days work and were returning home… it would have been 1 in the night and while back at my home all were in deep slumber my city was still in the middle of its jog….Every day thousands of aspirations take there flight when they first take up the elevator to the training school and every night hundreds of aspirations come crashing down when they realize this isn’t where they want to be, and I say hundred because certainly for few this is the place that they want to be….but trust me they are just handful rest all want to be perfectionists by doing something everybody wants them to, ditto as they want them to …. Run the mill…reach the destination and stop…never knowing how much they could have done if just some im-perfectionist would have taught them how to cut the cord and let lose….

Two years back I was listening to a video conference by Prof. John Nash, although he was distractive and very often he would jump off to irrelevant topics due to his disease unless someone again pointed him to the topic of discussion, he made a beautiful statement by the end of his lecture and I’m sure of the 500 of us who got the chance to be seated into the lecture theater of the Indian institute of technology while the rest thousands could not as there were no seats available, 90 percent of us would never forget what he said… referring to his research that has supported theories of operational research and that he being a genius, he looked at all of us and said

“I am on the wrong side of the fence…We are making products of each human child whose brain is capable of creation beyond the boundaries of this universe…We are justifying our misdeed by the name of education and employment….We have build a saddening system where we just make fine clones….I’m not a genius If I would have been I would have found a system to help God in preserving individuality of each mind and not support the system to build just products”

I’m sure all of us would have thought what “a beautiful mind”.

It isn’t justifying the incapability of an average human being, neither exemplifying gloriously running away of an average Indian from tough things, Its just an Idea that sometimes Beauty lies in imperfection, sometimes it is better to take a U turn if the road isn’t leading you to the right destination, sometimes it is better to be fearless and go ahead into something which is unexplored and unadvised.

…….

Tomorrow I might go and join another of an IT firm same like my previous employer just because so deep is the perfectionist theory embedded in me that I find it difficult to shake it and throw it out. I am no maverick, but what I have learnt is that a change is provoked if not realized in me….I have learnt that a change is not that difficult as it seems…a change is not that fearsome as it is made to be and that me being an imperfect creation can achieve farther miles than me running behind bottle neck perfections.

In my previous blogs I have written about my past life…mostly about relations that I have cherished…

That day as I sat looking at the elevator I realized that what I cherish is not perfection….no body has been perfect in my past life, they have just known and realized their dreams….My father, mother, sister, friends all have been im-perfectionists within themselves if not to the world because they still desire to achieve so much more…that civil engineer who would have built Gothic structures was also an Im-perfectionist because he desired to build taller buildings may be thats why today sky scrapers exist..

and right there I walked the line because I knew I desire for more and not just perfection.

…….

p.s. the word "im-perfectionist" is devised...just to explain the idea.

.....And they say, You have it all

There are two sets of world to each of us, One which is determined by people around us and the other which connects to ourselves. Our soul. Few have the strength to live equally in these two parallel worlds. and few carry the incubus of living both these dimensions into one. In my capability I dont know how people can live parallel lives for as far as I know I'v been on the other side of the fence always.

Today Im writting this blog about this person in my life. because he has been the only one to teach me how it is when every single thing around you changes to opposite. To teach not by classes, but by examples. To teach not whether its bad or good but that its just a change.


Flashback....


I was five years old and we were supposed to change our home, my favourite time of the day used to be when he used to bring me back from school. I used to stand in front of his scooter feeling the wind blow my face... as soon as the scooter halted I used to jump and run to the backyard of my then house, to see how many unripe mangoes fell from the huge mango tree we had. someday he used to come with me to see how many i get, someday he used to get inside do his chores till i return with my collection.
That day as i returned with a handful of mangoes all sweaty and smiley he took all of them putting them in our mango jar and said

"Lets go out and collect few more"

I was more than happy to do so.
as we searched for me he kept talking of how other trees than mango are better since they can be well maintained... and after each of his sentence I repeated
"but my mango tree is the best"

after collecting almost a bagful, he called me and said

"that from tomorrow there would be no mango tree. from tomorrow we will live in a new place. but it would be better since il have many friends their to play with"

after listening to all the good things il have there, it was okay for me to go and live at this new place. next afternoon we were scheduled to pack finally and leave.
from morning till the last doors were closed i was in my backyard collecting mango's and he didnt stop me. as we were going i asked him if we can take this mango tree with us.....

"we will plant another mango tree there, if we take this tree...all other tree's will cry"
I know its kiddish, but he said this because iv never been very intelligent about understanding logic when it comes to my favourite things. and he knew it.

He knew how difficult it was for me to leave the best part of my day all together. It might have meant nothing to my sister or to my mother, but it meant it to me and at no point he disrespected it or made a mockery of it. he just showed me the better things ahead keeping the good old memories alive.


That was the first change of my life as I remember. and he made me learn that change has no definition of good or bad. no matter how exciting it seems... you will always feel bad for your memories of the past.


Sometime back...

My sister just got married and we all went to say our final goodbyes to her at the station. It was okay for me till the train pulled on. as I saw her waving at all of us, I waved back rigorously so that she could see me till very far off. and I kept watching, slowly the crowd around us scattered and after sometime I could no more see that train.

for 5 seconds my world stopped. standing right there my eyes filled with tears and i started crying. for just one reason. that the person who right from the day i was born took all my faults on her so that i dont get the scolding, who invariably was the first person to say "take mine" when i was short of things and she equally needed, who without even a second thought always offered the bigger portion of the chocolate was gone far away. I dont know what made me think that never will we be together again.

seeing me crying, he held my shoulders and said
"she isnt going too far, you both will be together in the same place... dont worry"

not knowing what other hundreds standing in the station would be thinking of me i just turned looking at him without saying a word and my tears didnt stop for a long long time.

This was the second biggest change of my life and he was just the same as he was when i was five. letting me know how it is to have faith in ones unknown future. more than me, he was heartbroken to see my sister go, but I was incapable of judging its weight at that time. Today when i recollect that day, I know its never easy to let go your people just as it is never easy to forget your favourites. all you have to do is to hope that with all that you are left with you can create the same world that you cherished.

Today...

After two days I would be leaving this city. I would be leaving everything that was my life for the past 22 years of my life. and more than that I would be leaving that man, who no matter what came and went was always there to make my change better for me. Be it my mango tree, My school, My college or My sister leaving. He was always there to take all that burden, that pain far away from me.
he knew I'm incapable of living that parallel life. I'm incapable of separating things with people, I'm incapable of accepting change fast but at no point of time he made me realize that I'm the less fortunate one than those who can accept change, think positive and embrace future. At no point of time he made me realize that sometimes all you have got is yourself and nobody else. because everything that changed with time, everything that needed a definition of good or bad, everything that left me with no support was never there in my life. He was the pseudo self i had to take all these things upon himself and let me be free.

Im being free again. but such is the irony that this freedom is the least i ever wanted because that "pseudo self" of mine would be no more with me. By now you all would have known that he is my father. and no matter how less fortunate I have been I feel the biggest blessing I ever had is to have him to be my morpheous.

I Know everybody's father is a mentor, everybody's father is the one who distinguishes between good or bad, everybody's father is a support
but not every father would have cared for something as insignificant as a backyard mango tree. not every father would have known how to comfort when you have done the worst blunder of your life and you cannot confess. not every father would have cared enough to say when you are about to go for your job

"always remember Im here, i wont mind if you return without earning a penny"


Maybe I have gone overboard to write about him, but this is it. since it would be long time when il write another one i guess i just wish to end it for the near future with the best i ever had. Although teaching me every big lesson in my life, he never taught me to live the way usually people do. how to separate things and situations from people and emotions.I dont know why,

may be with all the dynamic change that happens in one life, he never wished to change me the way I am.



Maybe he knew the biggest gift he can give me is to let me be 'me'....

One amongst Us....

There was a huge crowd..the one that Iv never seen anywhere. People were bustling like anything..here and there. since it was all very new for me, all this over the top enthusiasm. I was getting uncomfortable. seeing me that way. she came up,

"So why you getting all this nervous?"

I: "nervous| who me?, No way"( the conversation was in Bengali and certainly with a very kiddish tone)

Still she not being so convinced, sat besides me. and right from the beginning till then end, when finally everyone was damn tired and very ready to get back to their homes she was there. Must say her patience....Whoof!

But then nobody expected me to behave like her. as I was way younger than her. and she was like Oprah, the perfect hostess anytime and anywhere :)

Well, this was my 5th Birthday, and I start by this since its the farthest memory i share with her. Anyway, as far as I remember, Iv always been very irritative with people who are not of my kind. so one fine morning

This guy turns up at my place, wanting to play with me since he was our neighbor. as usual, a born snob I was. I horridly declined stating something like

"I don't play with those, whose skin is of darker shade than mine :P"

He ran, as fast as he could right back to his home, crying all the way.

and there she was eying me like a dinosaur about to eat his pray ( Im sure i must have thought a better comparison, since in no way i would know the word dinosaur when i was 5). slowly i dared walking towards her

"Sorry :P"

She stared for 5 minutes, so bad that I should have buried myself right under the floor where I was standing, but then as I was a born snob, I was also a born "I don't care for your anger" girl too :P. somehow she managed to control her anger and moved to her studies,

Yes she was studying at that time, and she used to be funny when she studied..sometimes she even barged into my cerelac cookies when she used be hungry :) without even considering that the stuff is supposed to be eaten only by kids till 6.

anyway, we were on even terms..she used to ignore my snobbish attitude, my morning wake up tantrums and yah sometimes the 'Im the queen' attitude too, but then I also okayed her, eating up my cookies, sleeping on sofa and showing anger by staring attitude.

Life was cool for us, ya sometimes she had the upper hand for being elder to me, but then she was okay if I instructed how I want my bread with honey and how she should not put on weight stuff.

Then after few years, I could see her getting tired, as she used to help my dad in building our house, she used to wake at 5, do some of her work and return home late. I used to get real angry for she had no time for playing checkers and watching tom and jerry. so I befriended that "dark skinned boy from my neighborhood"
I must have said something like

"I have changed my mind about you, you still want to play"

and boy he was game :P

Now all that playing checkers and watching tom and jerry changed for cricket, football and carom. Life changed, I changed. And I changed a lot. now I no more used to get angry as she wasn't around me, I started caring less for her.... every night when dad used to switch off our bedroom light, she used to come close to me and ask me abt how I spent my day, did I still call that boy as dark skinned?? and my answer was always yes. ... she waited long enough to listen to me but she used to be so tired that almost every night while i used to be in the middle of my conversation she used to doze off...and I used to be like...

"what a friend..cant even listen to me properly"

But then I knew, she promised me that she would go and keep an eye on dad whether he is keeping my bedroom of pink colour or not.....so as I said, we used to be on even terms....but just till few years back when she scored more points than me.

I was in my high school... I had flunked badly in one of my maths paper for the day before the exam I and that dark skinned boy ( who turned out to be my best friend till then) were playing finals for a football tournament. By then we were in our new house, my room was repainted from pink to blue, She joined as a teacher in some school for some handy cash so we had lesser time to spend together, a lot many things changed along with our night chatting rituals too, in which she invariably used to fall asleep while I used to be in the middle of my day story...
but then she used to get me anything I wanted with her earned money so as said "even terms".
That day, I returned from my school, she was sleeping on sofa i woke her up and dared to mumble

" I flunked, I flunked my maths paper"

she was barely awake...she sat down, absorbing what i said, then saying

" but I thought I taught u everything didn't I?"

I was sure she will blast out like a furnace anytime or in the least will grave me with her disastrous eying ritual, but she dint. In fact she didn't even look at me, she looked on to the floor, may be searching for some words and said

" I must have left few things which came into ur paper, Im sorry"

I stood staring point blank at her for a long long time, tears rolled down my eyes
I started crying, mumbling things like its not her fault in fact its my fault that i did not study and that i played. But I knew the damage was done, My best friend was hurt. that evening i didnt have the nerves to go to play, so my best friend no.2 (the dark skinned boy) came to look up.....looking at me he knew something has gone damn wrong.

as he stood staring weirdly at me I asked

"did u fail in any of ur papers anytime?"

He: "ya once i did, dad was like a house on fire...he screamed on me like anything"

and i cried more, maybe i wanted her to react the same way. but she dint. she simply took everything on herself, all the guilt, all the carelessness and the irresponsibility.
Just everything.


From high school I went to college, she went on to be more tired because of her busy working schedule. but the day she scored more points than me, i pledged that i want back our lives to be on "even terms" again. So after she used to finish all her work....we used to often go for drives, coffee shops, movies, book stores everywhere that we relaxed the most. sometimes we even chatted long hours about stuffs like career, future and guys. One of these very chats led me to ask her

" why do you spend all you money on me, don't you wanna shop for yourself, anytime?"

I don't know what was so funny in that question, she just laughed for a long time and said....

" May be I just like it"


that night I thought that right from the moment I was 5 she did everything that made me happy...be it sitting by my side for 4 hours just because I don like crowds when I was just five, or looking after my desire to make my room pink, from getting me every single stuff on earth ... to sit back and take all my guilt. Be it maths paper or heart breaks. She did it. and "Simply" because she liked it?

No she did all of this so that not even for a single day, I regret my life.

And of all these 22 years of my life I could hardly remember once or twice that I did anything for her, that made her feel special.



I wonder how many of us have such friends for lifetime, how many of us can learn to know that some people live for others all their lives.

and as I said, We love to be on "even terms", so this blog is for her, My first best friend for my life. this may not be that good, since i didn't have the guts to write all those horrible things i did in my life to make her miserable, but this is from my heart. and I hope if someday, she learns to love surfing internet she would know....that I would still love to watch tom and jerry for hours with her, I would still love if she won playing checkers with me, I would still love to chat nonstop every night, even if she dozed real early

and someday just like her I would love to be a best friend for life first and a mom later.

The day I learnt its Independence Day.

It was the year of 1991, I was in my KG. We were more than hundred buzzing in for our 19th annual day celebration which coincidentally fell on the 15th of august as well. I was in a group song, not because i did sing well, in fact i still sing pathetic. but just because my best friend was also in the same group( fortunately she is an ace singer). so all through the practice i was more interested for the fun part than singing part. finally the D day arrived and it was the performance time. we had to make a flag standing up on the benches wearing tri coloured uniforms. as i was being dressed up i asked my mom, who i'm sure would have been equally excited for my life's first stage performance.

I : "I don't want to wear that orange dress i want to wear white"
Ma : No orange is good, see you'll make the top part of our country flag. Feel proud.
I : Why feel proud?
Ma : Because its Independence Day

and just when i wanted to throw the next set of questions to her, we were hurried towards the back stage for next was our turn. by then i was a guru for all my folks. I knew three big big things. A word like "independence day", something for which i should be very proud and that il stand at the top floor. Why, well I din bother much abt it till the end of my performance.

We stood still, the stage would be enlightened in a short while and then the music will start, since we were the last to perform we had to sing two songs. one which was very happy and rhythmic and the other which we used to call national anthem. but that wasn't interesting to me as we had to stand straight and sing very stiff. suddenly the stage glowed bright and we started, I started enjoying all the celebrity sort of moment. a huge crowed looking at us, flood lights focused on us and being on the top, i felt i have something special. I could see even the last row of the crowd. we finished, the whole crowed bursted into clapping, By then that celebrity feeling turned out to be a Diva feeling, as if rest 40 kids were invisible and I was the only one who has sung the whole song. My smiley face was not coming to its normalcy when my best friend poked me from side..

Meenal: Stop smiling Dumbo, next we have to sing the national anthem. stand straight.
I: (Still in my euphoria), Yaya I know, don't worry I wont mess it up. But why do we have to sing national anthem at all?
Meenal: thats because today is independence day and we will show our respect to our country by singing it.

Ooops!! My guru feeling and Diva feeling suddenly collapsed. Now even she knew something called Independence day and more disastrous she knew the reason why we sing the National anthem. anyhow with wounded ego i sang Jana Gana Mana.
but right in the middle of this confusion of singing it, not liking it and not being a guru anymore. I had one question. Why do we have to celebrate Independence day at all, or for that matter why do we have to sing anthem for our country. I was clueless. just as we finished.
there was a shower of confetti on, more than 50 fire crackers bursted outside, every single person stood cheering and clapping for us. that "Diva" feeling was magnified n number of times.I felt as if I was on the top of the world and I have sung the National anthem on behalf of the whole country.

To me all that happy happy feel, that lighting, those thunderous applause and that standing ovation, was my definition of being proud, my definition of Independence day. Thats how it went on 15th august 1991, the day I learnt its independence day.

Since then every year 15th august to me was the day when i could feel proud of me for no reason, for just being an Indian. how easily God gives us a reason to feel proud for belonging to ones country. Years rolled by, with each year life gave me much more stronger reason to feel proud, and with each reason there came innumerable responsibilities that i was being given for my country. from keeping it clean to doing good in sports to studies to everything. beyond everything there was one basic reason that was fortunately imbibed into me on that very day in the year of 1991. that whatever I'm doing, somewhere I'm doing it to make my country proud.

......

Its the year 2008, the first msg i read on my cell fone is a congratulations from my friend for Bindra winning the gold in Olympics. for that instant no extraordinary feeling grappled me. I was happy but pretty easy with it.
To me nothing changed, the whole day i was oscillating from writing articles to my java classes. I returned home late and after dinner felt like surfing on to TV channels.
My parents were already asleep, so its volume was pretty low. Olympics being on roll, i stilled on to some sports channel which was showing Bindra shooting his 10m range. although i wasn't that interested into his accuracy and clicking technique i left it running. At the end of 5 minutes, he was declared the recipient of gold in Olympics. I increased my TV volume to a little more, thinking if it would wake my parents. as the ceremony proceeded

The TV channel showed the victory ceremony.after the runners up being sang for it was my country's turn

" And now for the 10m shooting range, Gold, India. The Indian national anthem"
the moment those words were said. i increased my TV volume to 15 and I stood up. My national anthem was being sung, My flag was being hosted and across the globe at least a million people were giving a standing ovation to my country. just because one amongst us did achieve to accomplish his responsibility.

That same responsibility which i felt year after year every independence day, that same responsibility for which more than 10,000 soldiers die, that responsibility which first triggered my inquisitiveness to know how it feels to be proud when i was just 5. I could see the same glitter in Bindra's eyes, may be a million times more in magnitude of what i felt 17 years back.

everything done, the sports channel came back to its routine telecast. and I realized. probably my house was the loudest on my street, my parents sleeping inside and I'm standing in the middle of my dining room. With no confetti shower, no beaming lights, no thunderous applause I felt the feeling of being proud. The same one, which I felt years back, kiddish and unknown that I belong to my country. I turned off the television and went to sleep.




I just couldn't stop smiling.I text msgd my best friend

"Bindra won gold. watched the victory ceremony. felt same like standing on the top floor making the orange of our flag :)"


after few minutes her reply was

"Same here :)"




P.s. In the picture I'm fourth from top left, with my head swinging the most I'm sure I enjoyed like hell :P, Meenal is just left to me.

BlindFolded

Sometimes a long road reminds me of my past, my good times, my bad times. Times where iv lost hope, times where hope was the only thing that kept me hanging. and just when i start my walk back home, I feel I'm turning my back to everything that life offered me.

One of my school chums dad gotta new car recently, so after loads of "no's" and "il see's" I got hold of it for a short morning drive. fortunately there are roads in my city which are completely empty in wee hours. which are just half hour drive, you stop, stand in front of your car look at the long road and just think. I know not many of us do that and I'm pretty okay if you say I'm nuts and I have lots of time for this "stuff".

Agreed. Iv always had lots of time for myself. So this time no packed coffees, no November rain and no friends to hang along. it was just me and the nothingness in me that i was carrying. Have you ever realised that when you look at something which has no finish line, you just want to move a little ahead and see where it is.

during your school days we all used to cross that extra line to see how our friends scored in their paper, during college who's with whom...who is going for which company...who is in for the new project,presentations, everything. we have always wished to cross that extra line for no reason. I could not see the end of that road, but unlike all other times I didn't wish to drive a little bit ahead and find out. I just stood still and felt bad. how can someone describe a certain feeling which hasn't been named. I was feeling bad for my short lived good time. times when I used to stand up for my friends....time when I used to stand up for myself. Have I become so ordinary?

This was sometime exactly one year at past. It was my birthday. everyone I wished to be was there at my place celebrating my birthday. only i wasn't there

I was in my coaching class...preparing for an exam which I wasn't sure to appear for. as my class got over I confessed to my friend my disliking of being somewhere half hearted

"see you've got to sacrifice somethings" was her answer

I just shook my head in disgrace knowing that I wasn't sure how badly i need any sacrifice, I reached home...all were banging on me with everything that they had, wished me all the good things and the party started. me and one of my very close friend sat on the front porch and the conversation went something like this

Him: so where were you all this time??

I: class yaar, for MBA.

Him: MBA? but i thought you were ...( I dint let him complete)

I: yaya, now don't start that again....see lets face the fact, I'm no genius that any auto maker will just invite me to work for them. and more so less opportunities....blah blah..u know na...MBA will be okay for me i guess

Him: nodded his head

( we sat silently for a long time...or guess to me the time was longer)

Him: You know what...May be you are right.., you should do MBA, You know after all managerial job....good money...a comfortable life and yah most importantly you would plan everything..you know like say if you get into HR you'll manage people..you will hire them throw them out..or for say in marketing...making business plans...market surveys...whats right whats wrong...money building.....great...it will be a good job for you...after all every second guy is doing it.

And he walked inside. I was silent, for i know this is exactly what i never wanted to do. this is exactly what I never felt like doing. I never wanted to be the one to know which car is economical or which car sells better, I just wanted to make one, I just wanted to design one, see it flying into a straight long road with its perfect air fleet body and just the right kind of wheels. I just wanted to feel how it feels to get into something that is completely yours.

A loud noise thronged inside my ear to rip me apart, I jerked up only to see. I'm standing in the middle of the road, doing nothing. a truck pulled aside and honked his horns I don't know for how many times. I pulled my wheels a little aside and sat watching the truck pass by, may be the same way all those important moments which would have changed me passed by and i failed to see them.

I saw that empty road for the last time, this time no memories, no flash back just one question.....Am i really that ordinary? Am i just like another second guy??

I drove back, with that very feeling multiplying innumerable times.so many times that i lost count. A feeling of guilt, a feeling of failure, a feeling of loosing something. i came back home, punched hard my computer and wrote an email to my friend telling him, that yes he was right, may be this is what i am just like any other second guy, doing what others doing and not what iv dreamt off. But how possibly you could know that there might be bigger problems which led me to chose this as an option. but thanks for making me feel that I'm no good.

I did not realise one thing, that may be by now he would have forgotten that conversation and would find no clue as to why I'm writing him such a pathetic mail. Two days passed and he replied. as i read his name in my inbox name folder, i was uncomfortable, I knew he would be angry for iv written it real bad. fortunately or unfortunately it read something like this

"I know for everybody things don't turn up the right way, but didn't we see it this way when we were young to fight back when the ball isn't with our defender. Football, yes but no joke this time. You might have priorities which compelled you to chose your options. but tomorrow when things would be fine I want to see you flying in your so called "wheels". regardless of what you are, how you age and what you do. trust me, you can be anything but ordinary."

I sat shocked. How could he know me that much, how could he chose to write the right words. But then again, that's what friends are for. May be he was waiting for this email of mine so that he could tel me, that time never runs out for all those who wish to reach for the finish line.

"It has to be something in the shade of grey, a particular grey, neither too flashy not too subdue. It will have a perfect A lined, air fleet body with wheel propellers and yah important important disk brakes. just wish they come into production line till then, then yah....bubble tyres, fin lines just the way it is with the Mustang Shelby. A perfect speed convertible"

That is how I used to talk, when I used to believe in my dreams. just like every time I hope one day il drive to some long road, halt, sit back and believe that I'm anything but ordinary.

A Lifetime Of Serendipty....

“Note: for all those who haven’t seen the movie “the lake house”. It’s a movie about a beautiful house where time stops, where the owner of the house has the liberty to live with people from future and past. To some whom he hasn’t met. It’s a house where one person waits for years, just to find his love from future come to him at the lake house”




Have you seen The Lake house, it’s a movie about time lap, two people who love each other, but who live apart because of time. One lives in the year of 98 and the other in the year of 2000. But they finally meet when one waits for the other. I don’t know if anything like that exists, but every time I watch that movie I feel a connection, to what I’m still amused. May be that I believe in serendipity. May be that someday, I believe, that I’ll see the magic of abstract destiny.

It happened so many times with me, I’ve been places for the first time and I feel that I’ve been here before. And every time I try and explain it to somebody. I know their strange giggles behind their “it happens, sometimes”. Yes it does and how else can I explain that one has to believe in it to make it happen. On 30th of April this year, I was standing at the backside of my college building, vast lands of yellowed grasses and mountains all over. A small muddy road stretched between those grasses. Where, I don’t know, But as I was watching just the sky and the nothingness around. I had the feeling that may be someday I’ll come back, stand right at this place and watch the sky. I was frantically looking for one clue around that gave me this feeling. But guess I couldn’t find any, I wanted to walk that disheveled road that went behind somewhere and as I started to walk, I was called up

“Hey come back, we gotta go…baad me dekhlena(see it later)”

I turned back looking at my friend for a long time and I smiled. As I looked at that road, probably for the last time in my near future. I knew that I’ll come back. And I have no answer why.

Not this time, my old home, my school canteen, my best friend’s farmhouse, and the last metro station at Calcutta are all those places which gave me the same feeling. The feeling of serendipity as it gave me sheer happiness with no reason, that one feeling that maybe I’ll return here one day long after I’ve left this place. As was it with the lake house, few walls of glasses that separated time… I feel these places are separated from me with those invisible walls of glasses. I’ve read that sometimes the most insignificant person in your life is the most important one, and that you never really come to know unless you believe that each have some motive to be with you.



That summer I was traveling from my hometown to Bombay, the first time I was traveling alone. My friends dropped me to the station as my parents were at someplace else as they bid me goodbye I see an old man coming towards my coupe, he took his seat in front of me. Surprisingly there weren’t anybody else to share the rest three births. As the journey is long and me being a first timer, it took me sometime to be okay with traveling alone. Slowly I and uncle started talking; he told me how he traveled to far places when he was young, to his expeditions at various army bases where he was stationed as a medical officer. He told me how sun shines orange at rohtangpass and the same sun shines dull golden at the Calcutta docks. I smiled, for just like people of our age he was excited to tell me where he went what he did. He was excited to show me the world from his eyes. He told me how does Lake Geneva looks before the morning sun and more interestingly how does an aurora feel. I jumped up

“Aurora??? You have seen an aurora??”

And with dim eyes he said

“It’s not a thing to see kid; it’s a thing to feel”

I was super excited. As everything that he told was new and interesting to me. As time passed he took a small pic from his wallet in which he and his younger son were standing on a bark in between a lake. And proudly he said

“That’s Dal Lake where my son was posted few years back”

We kept on talking of things that I’ve never heard. Of things like why the Cambridge national park is so beautiful and how does in northern California, all park benches are a memorial to some or the other martyr. He told me that when u take a boat ride at lake placid and sail to its middle and sit there till middle of the night u see electric fishes gathering near your boat, just to make you believe that you are not alone.
I smiled again, all he said I had never heard before. We spoke till it was almost 11 in the night and then went to sleep for he was old and couldn’t sit anymore.
I lay awake and I dreamt of everything he has just told, suddenly I wished to see everything what he said…at that time it would have been just another fantasy dream of a teenaged girl…but till today, I dream of all those places, I dream of watching the constellation Orion right in the middle of an ice skating rink.
It was morning 7 and I’d just woken up with all the hustle around. Uncle was packing all his stuff, his station arrived … as I managed to open up my groggy eyes he said with a glint

“So kid, morning (typical army style)

I smiled and said “you leaving uncle?”

He stood with his baggage turned around and said

“Don’t forget to watch lake placid” and he de-boarded the train

I kept watching him through the window, his family came to receive him and he went. And I had the same feeling, feeling that iv known this person way before than yesterday.
Train moved and I kept thinking of all that he said.



I realized in those few hours, a complete stranger, way much older than me and whose name I hardly remember… made me realize that how much I would like to find park benches, how much I would love to travel.

How at eleven in the night, when the world was busy sleeping I met a person who gifted my dream of a life time.

And till today, whenever the day goes bad. Or something happens which I’d never wanted to. I dream the same dream, me sitting on a boat right in the middle of a lake with electric fishes around me…suddenly the water glows the colour of light blue, I look up and I see… the aurora. I see god turn on his lamp shed J

“That happens when god turns on his lamp shed” that was his definition to aurora with a grand smile.


There might be nobody waiting for me to meet him someday, there might be no more places where I’ll feel that I’ve been here before, there might be no more serendipities and there might be no another dream like that. But of all that I’ve experienced I’ve learnt that I’ll never stop believing in a magic.

May be someday someone will prove me right and make me believe that the very Lake Geneva is waiting for me. May be someday, long after I’ve left my hometown, I’ll come back to my college stand at the same place and watch the sky. May be someday I’ll get to see behind that invisible glass wall.

And how I wish, my life to be my lake house… where time stops, where magic comes true.


How I wish to meet a life time of serendipity.

The good, The better and The best

Note: Some of it fiction, Most of it real.with love and affection for one of my best friend.

"I had just learnt cycling, wheels used to facinate me, she was holding my seat and I was shouting almost screaming...

"chodna mat...chodna mat I'l fall, I'l fall"

she was equally excited, screaming louder "tu dar mat, im not leaving it, you wont fall"

I tried balancing, and she was running behind me holding my cycle... i cycled more and more, and slowly i could hear her no more. I kept cycling harder and harder, so far so good. and then when I was done with my excitement of cycling for the first time, I realised iv comedown to some different lane, I suddenly stopped, hanking and sweltering knowing that I'm lost. I looked back...to see if she is still coming, I left her behind...somwhere in my own happiness I forgot that she was running all behind me....I kept looking at the empty road .barren. lonely for a long time and there I see... with long hairs almost toggling her waist, there she was running at full blast... waving her hand shouting "wait..Im coming, Im coming" ...... ""

Well that was monai. yes indeed the name is enough for all those who knw her, but all those who dont letme introduce...

It is said, there are three parts to every soul. one that lives within you, one which is owned by your life partner and one which is with that unknown person, whom you may or may not meet in your lifetime. but whose every prayer, every luck, every success has your share. I'm not sure how many of you have had the luck to meet ur third share, but letme tel you how it is when you actually do.

our school busses used to gather around a big mahogany tree, since we both were frm different schools our timings never clashed, while she was somehow making it to the bus stop, i used to enjoy the freedom to sleep till ten for being in the aftrenoon shift. our interests, choice of food, choice of dresses, almost choice of everything on this planet earth somehow differed or rather more decently were diametrically opposite :) so one fineday I was supposed to go for my school picninc and thats why had to slogup at 7 in the morning. as i somehow reached the busstop i saw monai with her morning slumber waving me a sweet simple hi, and then with a sudden strange reaction turned exactly opposite took up a stone(as if she will throw at me), started carving something at the mahogany bark. everytime i went close to see what the hell she intended to do, with a disgusting look she pushed me back and poor me already half asleep used to fly so back from her push that hardly could maki it the second time to see what she was doing, im sure i would have said

"poor mahogany, had to deal with this mad girl that too 7 in the morning"

her bus arrived she threw the stone and without looking once at me boarded the bus.

"whatta snob(certainly sure was my reaction)"

since she was no where in sight, i went close to see what she did and i read

"jui's first moarning bus... goodmoarning goodmoarning.....7 septembur"

well that was her when she was 4, weird and unpredictable!

I laughed and laughed, and i even saw that while i was returning from my picninc that day. something made me happy, may be just the feeling that you were important to someone. may be just to know that someone bothered to know ur firsts and lasts. time rolled on... we grew up, as like the mahagony tree, our dosti went stronger and stronger. even when we were not sure that we are something called "friends" we knew, that we had to be together when we are scared, why was not our problem neither we thought of it. we simply knew it!

this was 2nd december 1992 during the babri masjid riots, since we used to live at the corner most bhel quarter, we were suggested to stay with some other family those who are more inside the colony, our first choice was with monai's family....We both sat still not knowing what is happening, why people are being killed...as we were dressing up our barbies she being her looked strange at me and asked

"jui muslims are killing kisko?"

I being the better nerd answered

"i think muslims are killing muslims only (i dint knw the word hindu existed then :))"

she looked at me for a long time, then took up her barbie and started weeping. I kept on asking "what happend? telme telme"

and there she was

"if my barbie would have been a muslim they would kill her also?"

and i sighed feeling sorry for the great theory of "muslims killing muslims" which i deviced...

but that was monai when she was 6, sensitive and caring"

life moved on, with innumerable memories of us being together. we had fights, sometimes such that really worried me whether we will talk again or not, but with all the faith in my heart i somehow realised that even if i get lowest in my math class, even if say a million "katti's", even if i break her kitchen set...she will always remain my friend.....these very questions changed with time and today with all the faith in my heart i knw that even if i fail to achieve what i want, even if i do things that are unforgivable, even when il sound the most unrealistic person on the earth...she will always be with me...she will always believe in my dreams...she being her will always say "im there"

In no time she would be moving to a differnt city, to make her dream a reality and as the time falls short we decided that today we will sit and just talk. our time passed like anything...with evry single word i wanted to tell her that she was my second sister or rather god friend...just like people have god mothers and fathers...guess I was blessed with one extra god friend who being the most practical person still understands how it feels when heart breaks...who just calls to ask

"tu theek to hai aaj"

who out of nowhere will bang into your house with a big Hiiiiiiii..... and will gift you with little little gifts just to see your expression to surpises :)

who will at 3 in the night with droopy eyes, will cook awesome food just to see if you aint hungry

who at every step, whether you are wrong or right...whether you are good or bad...whether you are sad or happy will stand by you and say

"im there, im always there"

well that was monai at 20, charming and emotional, practical and strong. daring and happy. yes that was her a bundle of extreme opposites, just like how u bunch a million multicoloured flowers together with one big red ribbon.

as we met somewhere out for our so called last treat together, time swooshed away like anything...i could see the glitter in her eyes for she is moving out.....to a brand new city, a brand new college....for she was finally going to achieve her dream...i wanted to talk and talk and talk...but it came to an end.....just like everything our "fun" had to end...and today was its begining...as she drove off...i felt like running behind her ...just like she did behind my cycle......keeping the hope that she might go into unknown places...bigger cities...empty roads and find no one....if she turns back .... she would see me..,,,guess i just wanted to tell her that if someday she is lost her best friend is there.

as she went today I questioned probably for the first time to God...why did you send her that day running after my bycycle....for i knw.....evrytime il be lost.....il turn back just to see if she is there.....and il find no one.

well thats how you feel when u meet your third part .....way before you actually knw... you misplace it into the lost crowds.

"kahe senti, chal yaar this time had to come, and more so just think it will be so fun when we will tapofy guys those who are not bhopalis....soch to zara kitna fun hoga and baaki sabka load mat le...im there na"

will this is monai at 21.... the good,the better ...the best dosti one can ever share :)

P.s. Cheers to the night out at ur roof top, our aish at my sisters wedding...our tapofy frustations after all those "ahem ahem" objectionable disasters..and finally to that citycenter potato whatever that was :P ...cheers to everything.....cheers to our life budy :)

Jealous of the Jordan in me......

Note: “‘Jealous of the Jordan in me’ is a usual caption used by basket ball players, a mockery to demoralize the opposite team by signifying as if the spirit of Michael Jordan has been bestowed on the speaker, as basket ball being the game more of high spirits and tricks than rules. The language of this blog is rough, as it is unedited on certain circumstances”

Never Lose!!
This was the long forgotten Tee shirt caption, one of my uncles used to wear and as like always I perked up

"Never lose what??"
"Never lose on your self" :) his anytime and anywhere ready made chuckle....all that I did see then...and did not realize what he said!

I was so young that school, fights, basket ball practice and bike rides made my life complete. Guess I didn’t desire for anything more...as I hardly could find time for doing anything else, life moved on from ground floor to the roof top and while I was at the threshold to cross each staircase I had an interaction with what one calls as "Never Lose" or to be more precise "Never Lose on yourself"



“That Game”
2002 New Delhi, at the south Delhi stadium (Carmel)

We were scheduled for the first match with chandigarh...

“Those fat holes...Gawd they don just slam-dunk they literally slam bunk, bunk and bunk!!!!...as in these guys are worth all the space on earth for cheese, butter and every damn fattening thing. How can they play and that too so damn good"

I exactly remember the conversation coz one weirdo desired to record it with her being the only cell phone on board :)"

"That game" started.....with 5 of chandigarh girls equating each one of them to two, we were like those small insignificant bumble bee's who can hardly breathe...anyway...."that game" where we were badly losing to (8,0).....pathetic was the word for us....since hardly any of us could perform...after the second better half we were lagging 2 behind...all tired of their missed bangs and mis-tackling the wrong person we were short of those two damned shots. Anshi the corner defender missed one precious shot and I howled...

"What the heck yar...u think that bloody clock would stop for us"
She infuriated
"Okay u damn....u try this time ...as if these aces are all waiting for my slam dunk"

Coaches called for immediate time out (while basket ball matches...one avoids all kind of breakouts coz they usually tend to be bad mouthing and time wastage"
As I reached, our captain was almost bloating on me, throwing ten better slang’s each time I dared open my mouth.....and not to forget Anshi was brutally quarantined for she missed it...every one was high on their own anger quotients....30 seconds left to start of the last 5 minutes of "that game" and our captain looks down....breathing.

“You know what your problem is; each of u has lost on yourself. You guys have accepted defeat, you guys are those set of good for nothing girls who are ready to shout...hey u all there look we have lost coz we were playing with fat lions and we are no more than chipmunks...but listen, I'm not ready. If I lose, I won’t show my face for tomorrows match. I give a damn for what u think, so you better get your a****s right on place and play coz if we lose. Il be the worst for u guys. So you either choose to walk off right away. Or you choose never to lose...take your call. Period."

We all went, she replaced Anshi, blowed two pretty point blank slams...I kept on watching....we were equal now, Roshi defended the chandigarh shooter.....played the ball way well than what she does and slammed again...I kept watching.....ball banged on to the chandigarh 7 number she dribbled at the speed of light, Anshi screamed from out fields..."u bloody, take that ball thing", I somehow managed to snatch and pass, somehow shooted off....slammed!! Life at peace...I kept watching…..

While we were returning our captain screamed thank you for saving my *** hope u guys do the same tomorrow...and I kept watching….

Down there Anshi was waiting for my grand welcome, I wonder how with such fluidity she can blutter out slang’s at one go....blah blah blah and blah and then with a 100 watt chuckle mutters

“Good that u did listen to me for once saved from losing your self :)"

May be that one stint was worth to know that losing is relative and is an illusion, when u know that you don’t have an option to lose out you wont! And by this I don’t mean equating losing out with failures, certainly failures do occur. But what is needed is that strength to fight back again, that strength which calls never to lose.



“Rewind”
2008 New Delhi, Apollo hospital.

Anshi was admitted for liver infection, she breathed practically every air of infection ever available on earth, so few merciful docs hoped to save her from the difficulty to breath and put her on ventilation. She survived three disgusting months to ventilate in and out of that tube which stayed stuck into thin long damnd looking throat of hers, she puked and threw every filth of her body right there where she was lying down for she did not have the time to "damn anybody", she did not have the energy to scream on top of her voice " u bloody, u damn just make me all right"....she did not have the senses to know that she was alive and vegetating on liquids. After all those innumerable pills, antibiotics, sleepless nights of her family. She woke up one morning, just to find that she has slipped into some state of body where one cannot talk, walk or eat due to extra sensitivity of her organs…..She kept watching.....her peers were worried, her mom cried whenever she looked at the lean looking figure that "just" breathed......She kept watching......doctors
made her drink through injections, inserted n number of pipes at disgusting parts of her body....she "just" kept watching.....for she could do nothing else.
But she fought, for she knew she had missed one golden chance long back at some certain match, and she did not want to miss it again.

Guess once a sport...is always a sport. To people outside living the world of sports it might sound weird or more precisely crap, but as much Iv known myself and as much I have seen when u have that adrenaline pumping your body for just one shot, you feel your own power. Not all of us do that, one being the president of any country under no circumstances can feel the power of his success just by sitting on to his chare or passing on to some ace proposals. But a warrior, a sportsman and those who live on the edge can "feel" their power to success...and the feeling is amazing....you experience it once and u crave for it for the rest of your lives.

Anshi craved for it while she lay on that hospital bed, while all of us were losing hope, she chose never to lose on herself, miraculously Anshi returned to normalcy, now she could at least sit and talk, her body weighed 28 from 21 at least more than her age of 22.

Since I was not in Delhi, I called her up…

"So you damnd, how the hell u got yourself right"

Anshi with her usual list of unmentionable slang’s at last spoke

“Thought of getting my *** at the right place, you remember that never lose 30 seconds lecture. Just thought about rewinding that again and again....and you know what, it worked…hehe....I chose never to lose :)”

This lady who barely breathed few weeks back...talked about setting life's score right, talked about choosing never to lose!! Or rather just not talked but actually she knew how, never to lose.

For you or for that person who walks by your mind as you read this losing up might be different, it’s relative for all of us. But may be someday, we all will realize that not losing up is nothing but just being the best you can at your extremes….by knowing the worst and hoping the best....and if nothing just for one moment ....dare to be yourself and you would know that its instinctive that you always chose to put your best fight when needed, its just that you never give yourself that chance to live on the edge...

Because all these people who have had near death experiences (NDE) ....all those who have done the impossible and every single woman who gives birth to a child, believes that even God chooses never to lose….So why should you!

P.s. the names are changed as desired.

A Generation Within!

Note: This article is about publishing W.A.Y.S. a college magazine, and about those people who worked for it.

"Desire is relative, Iv seen changing them into passion for some and for others it plain dries up being just another kind of a dream... A dream which never meets its reality. But when it turns into passion, it turns in to be your morpheous, it shapes you the way you should be and not the way you want to be. And in the whole process it finds what is your golden key...what is that one thing, that only you have and nobody else. Slowly, it makes you fall in love with yourself. "

Flashback :)

Someday in march, 2005

This was our first meeting, after a lot of commotion somehow all could make up for the time that was given we were four from the first year and rest all our seniors, although we all were pretty uncomfortable with all that was going on, I was on the better side for atleast I was given something do (to list all that has to be done in the next meeting) than the rest of firsties who were just suppose to sit and listen. Anyway as it went, I could hardly find anything worth "interesting" that would make me work for W.A.Y.S., my college editorial board.

somehow as days passed we(the firsties) were being called at ungodly hours to do the errands, write fix and match stuff such as one liners, fillers and all that was not important or which people hardly read. We hardly being selected, somehow realised that we were not so "important" in this league of people, who by some lable were tagged as elite. may be cz they could just make through campus selections or good B schools or may be they were the only worthwhile lot that our college had. anyway I wasnt sure off, untill the day arrived!

the day which fueld something in me...which lasts till date. something which for the first time made me realise that "may be" this is where I belong. On a sunday afternoon mid 3'0 clock i was being called up at the infamous "sky computers" where the so called Ed-board used to eat, sleep and drink. being that "faithfull" firstie i went running and slogging to reach at the exact time I was given. As I entered I could see two of my seniors looking morbidly into one PC which did something called as "typesetting" (had hardly heard of that word till then :)) as I walked in the scene went...

Adit sir: Debashree, WAYS ke liye poem likhni hai (have to write a poem for the mag) okay?

Debashree: Okay sir, il try and will give you

Adit sir (looking as if its normal) : Now, in ten minutes!

Debashree: what!!!now?? a poem? just like that?

..all looking weirdly at each other..

Any how I sat writing something, which even I wasnt sure of what it would turn out to be. and melting everything I had inside I wrote something which I was very proud off (thinking Iv masterd being an editor) proudly as I went showing it to my seniors.... the reply was...

"this is really bad, really really bad" with all the effort I could muster up, I sat again trying my so called writing skills at high....second try...another failure!

And then one amongst those two seniors comes and says something like this, "see we are all passionate about this thing. I hope you understand that. we work for it because we believe in it. and writing something for it means taking out that feeling which stays in all of us. so while you write, make sure you dont write it for yourself, write it for all of "us", write it for the edboard!"

I dont know what struck me that day, was it those words "writing it for the ed board" or was it the way that one of those eddies said it to me... Im still confused, but something in me was awakend. although W.A.Y.S. was not something created by me, neither I was a hardcore editor till then. But right in between those words and the way it was said I realised that one day I would want to have that same passion in me when I would talk about "ed-board". May be an Insignificant spark was born.

Years passed, from being a firstie... we four went to become thirdies. Where no more we were said to listen to something, we were asked of how would we like it to be. Where we did not work at ungodly hours because we were being called up, but we worked at those hours because rest all were occupied by our coachings, classes and all that stood important second to our magazine. Till then that small, insignificant spark did catch up being a fire in itself.

This was another evening at the "sky computers", the whole edboard was buzzing with something or the other as the mag was about to go for prints.... one of the then fourthies was jogging round the room, all to pacify his anxiety for the mag to go for prints...and then suddenly turning towards me speaks:

Prakhar sir: Debashree, we have to write an ending for our mag. something which would define evrything!

Debashree: (reading in mind "something which would define everything") Okay sir, Il try.

Once agian I was in a fix, to write something that has to be good and practically with no time to think...I took up one corner and for five seconds my brain was shutoff and I questioned "what if it would have been my magazine?" I got my answer, the same that I had the day when I was told to write "for the ed-board" and not just for me. I realised that this dream is just not mine, it was of somebody... it is of somebody and one day it will be mine. I wrote something and 2007 mag went for a roll....I could still see those tears of our then senior while that mag was being released. Something that made me realise that may be its time that the insignificant fire in me starts burning, so that one day I can feel and fathom the same.

Now, 26th april 2008

The time has come, that small fire was burning so bright that each passing day as our team worked, I could feel that same passion being shared by all four of us. Evry single night that boys of our team spent working at prints, Everysingle fight, heated arguments over articles and not meeting deadlines, differences over opinions, workloads, over the top fund raising crunch and not to forget working, working day in day out just for the sake that the fire that burns in all of us dosnt fades out, almost evry single damn thing that can happen in this world of publishing a magazine took over us. Working for mag went about being a synonym to sleeping and drinking...

I could feel the same commotion on the last days at the prints that I felt three years back on my first meeting, we forthies and two of the thirdies were working on the final stuffs, last moment editions, typesetting, coral draw mal functions, PC's getting over loaded and not working(almost dieing), few hot samosas, one big bottle of fanta( as Prateek dosnt take anything thats black ;)), laughing at Yash for his arbit nonsensical jokes, laughing at abhijeet and vivek for creating W.A.Y.S. 'incorporation', offering Almaas( the little boy at prints who was a dude at type setting) to drink from the same bottle of fanta as we were drinking......almost evrything that was a crap to the outer world was the last burning flame of the passion named Ed-board to me, yash, sonal and prateek. we were living its last, our desire to publish a magazine which was ignited by few of our seniors and slowly passed on to us had turned out to be a dream that was meeting its reality for the first time.

we were lucky for we could live our own dream, not many of us are that lucky. We were lucky for beyond all odds, WAYS 2008 was on roll.

One evening 7:30 pm GEC, as I and vivek( one of the thirdies) were waiting for some magazine work, I spoke something about how one should feel for mag...and while I was speaking...I realised that I was passing on the same passion that someone did to me....I was silently passing on the dream of W.A.Y.S. 2009 to the future of tomorrow.

The magazine still awating to be printed, today I realise that may be someday, four of us would be passionate in the same way for something else... I realised that may be Edboard was the best thing that could have happend to few us in the past four years. For its not me nor you, nor any one person who has made this reality, true to its name its we and you together that we have made it a success.

A success to awaken the sleeping generation in all of us!

P.s. Ed-Board 2004-2005 Adit Sharma sir, Ritwick sir, Nimkee mam

Ed-Board 2005-2006 Abhinav Sharma sir, Suniel sir, Vibhaas sir

Ed-Board 2006-2007 Prakhar sir, Kartikey sir, Shailja mam, Teena mam, Shweta mam

Ed- Board 2007-2008 Akshat, Debashree, Prateek, Sonal, Sania, Yash, Abhijeet, Devansh, Vivek, Poorna, Dhananjai, Kalyani, Abhilasha, Aditya, Ankit, Kartik, Shubha, Shruti, Navtej, Neelabh, Shashank, Rashmi, Ankita, Priyanka and all those who were a part of us!

In the temple of my heart...

Something happened two days back, something which I can call as one of the biggest days of my life. No, I didn’t achieve any thing neither did I lose. May be I just realized few things or may be I just lived myself for that day!

I went for an interview for one of the MBA colleges. No, that wasn’t big enough to make that day great. It was usual, I was anxious as everybody else was, I was nervous for somehow I did not “fit” in there. But I guess nobody “fitted” there, everybody just tried to fix in. so all the while I waited for my interview call, a girl sat beside me for she was slated to go right after me in the same panel. And we had a conversation, something like this…

Girl: Hi, you look nervous!
I: Do I? But I don’t feel so J (A fake smile)
Girl: so are you prepared?
I: well (pause), No
Girl: (looking absurdly) okay, but then I guess you must be confident J
I: well (pause), No
Girl: (could hardly fake a smile) I hope you make it!
I: You do? Really? (God knows why the hell I asked that question)
Girl: (just a smile this time)
I: I don’t thing anybody out here wants anybody else to “make in”
Girl: (as if watching a deaf man talking), All the best!
I: Thank you (I forgot to wish her back, didn’t know whether I really wanted to!!)


I was called in, was thrown up with few uncomfortable questions or rather few questions which I couldn’t answer. I messed up, for all the time I wasn’t given the time for answering. I wished if I could somehow tell that person that I have come here to show you what I’m made off, my parents back thousand miles pray for me, my close friends are worried about me and here I am losing my chance just to talk! My interview was over and I walked out. For the first time I was walking out of something demoralized, weird and coy.

As I picked up my bag, my cell buzzed…
An old friend of mine (with whom I had practically no contact since past four years after school) messaged me

“Hey miss sunshine, how’s you. I came to know that this is your the big day
So just go and do it babe… show them what you are made up off.
Yours
Tichchy”

I kept my cell back, started walking off the corridor and I realized that since this morning, there was no single time that I was pretentious. I didn’t fake; I didn’t try and act smart. I realized that when I didn’t wish that girl sitting by my side good luck it was because I didn’t want to. I realized that my interview was not good, because may be I’m not that good.
And may be its time I realize that all those people who prayed for me, wished me from far lands just so that I make it big. I might actually not deserve it. I was feeling low and was being intolerant. I called back at that number from which tichchy messaged me.
After a long time someone picked up
She was over enthusiastic when she heard me; she hoped that I did perform real good…
Since we were talking almost after 4 years, it was something great for both of us. I didn’t have the courage to tell her that I messed it up. I didn’t have the courage to tell her that I may not be that good. So I kept the phone down and messaged her…

“yar I tried telling you…that I didn’t perform well inside. Thanks that you took the initiative to know about me, what I’m doing, where I am…after such a long time. But I guess I’ll have to let u guys down. I just didn’t do well. I wasn’t that smart to fake out answers which I could easily do at some place else. I just didn’t try to be somebody else and may be that’s why it didn’t go well”

She didn’t call back, may be coz she knew me better than I did myself…she just wrote

“Babe, you know what’s best. That you had the courage to face something which you did know is going wrong…and I’m sure just like our old days… you come down to your real self when things go harder. Don’t worry babes. You were great, may be not for those guys but for yourself, for us. Because you, were just you. And don’t you worry about us. We were. We are and we will be proud of you. Not because some certain interview you messed up, but because you were strong to learn that you were not good”

I was walking with my friend back to the outside gates and I was watching all those people, who were trying to be somebody else, trying to be their best, trying to outsmart the person sitting right besides them. They all were ‘trying’ to dig deep inside and find their own sunshine. And when they realize that they don’t have it, they tried faking it. Every single person around me was masking something or the other, my friend did, that girl out there did and may be I did till the moment I stepped inside that corridor and now I was walking out of it. But for the first time I dared to be myself, no matter how much weird, rude, illogical or dumb I was. I was just myself.
I might have lost the chance to be somebody and win the bet. I didn’t and I don’t know why.
Something struck me, that of everything I’m made off; I won’t be a farce like the rest hundred. I won’t be jealous of someone for she can fake better than me. I won’t be a pseudo namesake. I’ll be what I am and may be someday I’ll win the game just being who I am. May be someday I wont have to “think” of an answer when I would be asked what I want to be. May be someday I wont have to be a floated balloon which will burst into its miniscule with just a pin prick. May be someday I’ll be my own god.

I don’t know whether I’ll pass or fail that interview test. But I certainly know that I can be myself even when I’ll be dead because of it. I certainly know that deep down south of my heart I have that burning sunshine.

Somewhere I read

“To be visible, just burn your self”

Now I certainly know that I’m proud of myself for what I am, beyond success…beyond failures!

My Story!

I was running ...we were playing "catch me if u can" ..... we were
supposed to catch the ten PM metro....i kept running....as i scuffled
inside the station...i cud see the train standing....i ran inside and
the door closed behind me....i was short of breath...for a while i
stood still catching up my breath...as the train started to move...i
looked behind..he was nowhere to be found....i watched out of the metro
window....he was running on the station all laughing....as he ran
towards the closed train.....i ran towards the last coupe.....as the
train sped up....it went all black...he was no where to be found.....i
was alone...lost into the blackness of the tunnel....going far away
from him....my heart skipped few beats....my breath still trying to
make me peace....the blackness all around over-roomed the light inside
the train...his face was all that i saw each time my eyes closed....i
kept on watching his face..and as i drew apart my eyes i could see the
faint light coming from the next station....the train stopped....the
doors opened again...i did not turn...for i knew he would be
there...there wud be nothing that could stop him frm being there...he
stepped in catching up with himself ... looked into my eyes and said
"Im there"....and i realised i can not live without him!



I could never imagine a self of mine reliant and dependent...i was
proud that i would never need a support of an opposite
gender....something which i felt an elixir to my living....my strength
was my soul....each time i felt that im alone....i knew that the inner
strength of mine is there to make me strong....make me as hard as a
rock so that nothing could effect me...but hardly i knew that Il
change...not for somebody but for something.....as always iv been proud
of my past..my childhood...my school days....my friends...my
family...and when i stepped out of that small shell of mine...i could
see all that...that i was protected from.."protected" a big
word....indeed, i know..i was lucky for i had never seen relations
breaking..i had never seen sadness in the eyes of a lost soul....i had
never seen empty beings banging floors to make them heard by
someone.....for i was in a make belief of goodness....a utopia of my
own..where love was not a feeling of life..but life itself.
I changed not to have my past back...but i changed to save my utopia
from all the harsh reality around.....evrynight as i walked back my
room ... i had seen women waiting at the bus stations from
brothels...no i din loath them rather i saw the sadness ...which im
sure that visitor of hers wud also see...i had seen street children
eating left overs.....we all see...but we dont wait and think.....they
gave me a sullen look...as if i was there to debar them frm there piece
of small happiness....i had seen big luxury cars sweeping by my
side...so many of them going back to empty rooms...so many would find
no one to talk too.and as i reached to unlock my door...i felt all of
that and more....when u are overstuffed of affection...you loath urself
for not receiving the minutest of it....all of us who live alone must
have missed that unshared laughter after late night dinner...that "adda"
over a cup of coffee...and that love for simply being yourself....if i
changed...i changed to save all these for me...i changed for i was
selfish of my own happiness....but no matter how you adapt to the
change..this world is far bigger to adapt it....

He left me...I could see him drifting away from all that we were...his
ambitions were bigger than mine...his dreams were no more suitable of
mine....i was that daffodil that grew older with the age and no more
bloomed in the midnight for the only moon....this time no one
spoke...no one laughed...as we met at the national park....it was night
and just like our first meet...we stood at the corner parkbench...from
where we could see the ice skating rink....for the first time i read
what was written on the park bench...."for sherly.... where ever you
are"....i felt as if i was the one to have written it for some shirly
whom iv lost somewhere.....we din speak...whn it was 9:30 we started
walking towards the metro for my ten PM metro....we din ran...we just
walked...for both of us knew that each step meant crossing a million
hurdles....as i reached the station....my train was standing....as i
stepped in, the door closed....i again ran back to the last coupe...but
he did not run towards the closed train...he did not run towards
me...and yet again the blackness over roomed me.....his face flashed
each time i closed my eyes...i kept my eyes closed not because i wanted
to keep on looking at his face...but becoz i knew that it was my last
piece of happiness...because the next time i open my eyes i would see
that sadness..that lonliness..and that unfaithful air that would leave
me naked to all the badness around.....and as i opend my eyes....i cud
see the light coming from next station...the more i loved the
darkness..more the light grew brighter.....the train stopped ...doors
opened and doors closed...but there was no one to say "Im there".

Chapter one!

I was hogging on to Chinese in a 'no disturbance' mode...when I suddenly realized a fork entering my domain and trying to sneak in some of my "chow-chow" (noodles :) )... with a freaky smile I said "dare not" and with a more freakier one he was ready to sneak out some more....but then it was our last day together so I let him have his day....well he might not remember this fraction of a second fun game...but that happened some four years back when one of my bestest friends left for his job!.....

and no this blog is not on him( he hasn’t done anything worth a whole blog :))...this blog is for all those moments iv shared with him ....

so I’m sure you must be thinking again...another of the same kind....clichéd blogs of pain and joy...but can't help it. I am so badly obsessed with all of these people around me that I just cant imagine to foray into writing something different unless I have something for all of them :) .... but yah the list is not never ending so all those who visit my blogs and do not comment...waiting for that different blog ill write someday. I say...be patient...for few more are left and they are special...so I might just take time to write about them :)


As I was mentioning about that dude who belongs to be one of my closest friends lemme say...he is no James Bond...rather he is a little messed up guy with his hair and mind never on one place....so all these years while I tried to figure out one special thing that he has so that I can feel proud of him....unfortunately I din find any....be it those cheeky video games or a game as stupid as 'bagadully' (I’m sure most of you haven’t even heard its name)....we used to end up fighting ....more clearly me shouting on him....


so one fine day I was sitting on my porch and he dropped in....for the first time we were not playing something....we were chatting(trust me its a task to get something out of him....cz the more he pretends to be open...the more he is a shut mug!)...talking all nonsense that one could do...slowly as time passed I realized that its not he who is telling me all his secrets but rather its me who is blurting out everything to him.....and finally when he left...I could fathom that although he has been one of the most naughtiest brother I ever had he was also the best friend ill ever have...be it my math problems....my marks.... my friends....on that 3 hour chat i hd practically told him everything that was preoccupying me.....


time passed from days to years...my problems were not that big...I knew....but for whatever I had no solution, I just had one answer...dial him!Coming back to his last few days...and by that I don mean...we dint meet after that...rather recently we had real fun together...but by last I mean those days when "everyday" meets would be no more....

i went to pack his bag....he was thrilled to step into a different city...meet different people....so all the while as i was shouting on him....getting angry as to why he hasn't ironed his clothes and why is he not helping me in packing his stuff....i had my clock ticking....the more i wanted to share things with him....the more the clock went faster....and my time ran out .... He went ...on his way to a new world!

that day I was walking back home....all those memories of him teaching me math...helping me to keep guys at bay...making me learn simple rules....playing video games...drinking coffee.....and so much more... I realized that though god din give me my own brother he sent me him.....My soul saver went away....and I failed to tell him that he was one of those best things in my life that happened till then..... not that he sat with me four hours banging his head to make me pass my exams...neither that he was fun to be with....rather he is fun to everybody...its just those 17 years that we were together...since childhood.... that flashed my memory making me feel that he was that untold brother whome i can confide...find trust and feel secure...



last month we had our old school of friends to gather up while his sister got married....after a long time I could be all that i was....i could shout without any reason and no body got angry :) ... i could ask for innumerable ice creams....i could grab everything and anything that belonged to him .... small fights...small talks...made me remember all those days when I was a kid...and now that iv grown up and there are innumerable things that I can't share with him....I feel over stuffed...overstuffed of all those bigger problems in my life that he might not understand...overstuffed of all the badness in me that has accumulated and thers no one i can share.......not that i dont have people to share things. I have and they are special too...its just that they belong to another part of me...just like theirs...his place is irreplaceable, for call it my incapability, I cant accept new people to help me out of problems...as i dont trust anybody other than few....my clock stopped that day when he went away four years back...


time flies and its true....those few days went by like anything...and once again the game was over... and now in a short span of time as we would live thousand miles away in different cities....where meetings would turn out to be very rare...I would not wait to say that he was precious to me ....he was the brother i never had...and the friend who i can never replace...yes its true he din have any 'one' special thing to mention...rather he was irritating....naughty and weird....but in everything he was...he made all of us complete!

and today even after knowing that in the coming years how less we might talk or share.....I would say that I’m proud of him.... with all the lessons Iv learnt yet......unknowingly he has taught me the best one.......to live life fullest!

"Crying and cribbing wont get you anywhere...be responsible and follow your dreams"....someday I wish I could follow what he said to me..

cheers to you and your success!

Another World!

It’s an old song...that she was listening at this hour of another January morning...one of kishore's best and the one which many loved to dedicate her..."pal
pal dil ke pas" and she smiled as she watched her daughter getting married!



Few years back....and I say few as by the hands of history such a time span is definitely 'few'...



Hot jalebi’s were her favorite...her birthday and the whole house used to buzz with the fragrance of hot 'garam' jalebi’s and ‘Chingdi (lobster) fry’. Both being the lip smacking delicacy of a typical bangali 'badi' (Bengali home), as its with every bangla family apart from having family doctors and lawyers each of them are associated with a family 'mishti'r dokan' (sweet shop) and a family 'macher bajar' (a fish market)....same like her family was associated with ghosh babu's mishti house....so a family function(not to forget cricket matches, hockey matches, 'phootbal'(football) matches...and many to be considered just as equal as functions) and no sweets from ghosh babu....impossible!


As usual, soon as she woke up, someone from the family ran to stuff her with sweets and assurances that her favorite delicacy is on the list for today’s lunch. College on birthdays was a dream come true...as 'the significant' gifts and flowers awaited...but that day he didn't turn up...dodging all the 'Love' and affection from her family, she kept waiting and waiting at the station for him to return from his job. He didn't!

Upset she returned home before sun set...it’s the first time in two years that he dint turn up. Instead as she landed back home...almost whole of her clan kept waiting for her grand arrival, but not to greet her or gift her...but to question a "letter".


Her father never turned red unless the guilt was unforgivable...this time he sat motionless with a blind look holding a piece of envelop....on entering she was sure something was wrong....for no one spoke a word!
A quite mum (the best weapon a bangali babu has when his daughter is being wronged for a guy) and then the head of the family spoke in a morbid tone...."eta ke? (Who is he?)" Showing the envelope which she hoped had the tragic letter from her boyfriend.

Her best friend ditched her....past two years all his letters were addressed to her friend shyama's home and were then hand delivered to her secretly...but this fine morning, game was done...shyama's brother caught hold of the letter and instead of her. It was handed over to her father.

Flustered "sen babu" asked again...."eta ke bol...nahole thik hobena (Either tell who he is or face the consequences)" A simple girl, whose entire world revolved around the dream to have her own little house with a small garden flashed a fearful look and spoke "amar bondhu (my friend)"....who is such a friend to write such unreadable letters....screamed sen babu. She ran upstairs...to save herself the embarrassment she had to face in front of her whole clan...evening crossed with no one to knock...crying over her pillow she remembers the fragrance of hot jalebi’s which her house basked with that very morning. She felt like a traitor cheating her family...a stranger on a known domain...that simple love of hers was making her pay its price a lot more than she deserved...for she knew....in her days...a staunch bangali badi'r me (a bengali family girl) never married with her choice....

That night changed her for the rest of her life....she sat beside a window watching the dust settle down...watching the city which never sleeps to slow its pace and as in her town rikshaw wala's were first to honker early morning...she realized with the sound of it that this day is not going to be the same...that she has to answer all unanswered questions....that like a slow wavering mist which settles down on the earth beneath, even she would have to settle down on her beliefs.

Another hour and the door knocked....it was Tubul'da (in east every man other than one’s suitor and defined relations is addressed with a 'da' which means brother) ....the door was not locked...so he came inside...Sat in front of her and asked for the first time...(and she knew for the last as well)...

"Will u forget him?"

She kept looking at the morning sun for a long time...its reflections on the backyard 'pukur (a pond attached with the home...very usual in West Bengal)'...and with a shallow tone she replied

"No"

He kept staring at a shy twenty year old girl ...who used to hide behind curtains just the other day...who’s appearance at functions were as few as nothing for she was scared to meet new people and talk...who’s favorite pass time was to fish at the backyard pond....who in a fist of time overnight grew to be a fearless strong woman.

As he started to walk out...there was a meek sound strong enough to be heard by the air around her... Voicing

"Tubul'da...I wont marry anyone else"

He turned back ...watching her small face glowing bright as the sun shone bright orange....the first rays painting her face red...fragile yet confident

Days passed...Sen babu.... still avoiding social gatherings....Sen baudi(her mother) ... pursuing her hobby as usual, crying and feeding rest of the family members...after a month or so...a suitor was to be shown to her...for she was supposed to marry her fathers choice...As everybody sat waiting for her at the drawing room...she locked her self upstairs, denying to comedown....that was the end of all!


Her father agreed of her choice but only on a condition that he won’t be present at her marriage. Three months later she was married....to the man she wanted to...both scared and unprepared to get into a serious business ... that too so soon. As the wedding ceremony ended...he looked into her eyes and said..."don’t cry if we are short of money"
She laughed away...Knowing that the entire she had, won’t stand by her anymore....knowing that the man she trusted her life earns just 600 rupees per month....knowing that she might never be the same girl...to whom this world was as small as her backyard 'pukur'.

She left her birth land for a place which was hundreds of miles far off...unknown and unfamiliar...as she stood at the station reading “City of lakes”...unable to understand a single word...for she knew only Bengali and a little bit of English...she clenched his hand...pointing him to a door...so that he could read that for her...she didn't know how to read 'toilet' in Hindi.....he laughed the same way as she did while they got married...."Don’t worry...you'll learn all of it"

There small world was a paradise to her, she made her own home...her own friends...her own life, but only till her child was born. She was 21...as she stepped into her empty house holding her new born daughter...for no one from her family arrived till then...It hit her the second time that life would no more be simple....she knew there would be hardships as by then money was not so easy.

It was another of an evening he came back from his office and worded the much awaited statement

"You might have to find a job...or else we will have to compromise on her schooling" looking straight at his 3 year old daughter like a dead man feeling guilty.

Without knowing anything of a language being spoken where she stayed (funnily which was Hindi) she enrolled to finish her degree at the university...that night was stormy as both sat beside their beds...deciding that now the time has come that they both have to fight with everything that they have in them to be their best...so that they can give their children everything that they did not have.
Every morning with the child running for her nursery, one left for his job the other to the university...although he was qualified enough for that time, salary was not proportional to ones qualification it was proportional to ones promotion. He worked as much as one possibly can and in as many shifts one can....having lunch or dinner together was something that they both did not remember anymore.

But who was a bigger fighter. One who slogged like an animal or the other who faced criticism for her incapability to understand something as simple as the language being spoken...for fighting odds and translating her Bangla into English to pass exams and as well to tend for a three year old child...for them...having each other was more than a family and a moral support. They happened to be each others life support...as the existence of one was not possible without the other.

Years passed. After 3 years of finishing her graduation and post graduation she found a job at a local school and he, still climbing the ladder one by one. With no Godfather, to achieve his promotion all he had was to show his work...and those above him knew it very well. It was a long run for both of them her child’s first day at school...her first prize....her first letter she could write, everything went into a miss...for all that they could see is their daughter studying in one of the best schools of the city...that was their dream...and they made it true...their first success!


Since then there have been many....after seven years of dog work...he came to achieve one of the higher positions in his organization....she felt proud of him...That night she was the happiest ever...for she was expecting her second child and also for the day has come where they could breath peace for all that they have achieved yet...as they sat watching their daughter sleep.. She cried, past eight years of her marriage she cried for the first time...that drop of tear was her own celebration...from being a conventional Bengali girl...she came out to be a winner on her own terms...she watched that night dawning into a hue of pink...as the first rays painted her face red. Her essence of past flashed her memory...looks which dejected her for she choose her own suitor...that man who had been everything to her since childhood, leaving her at the edge...that train to the city of lakes and her first steps at the university....her every step, that would have been next to nothing for anyone of us...was as big as miles to walk...for she was not one of us...She belonged to a world where a woman’s destination was marked, where she wasn't allowed to speak unless questioned…as that was how a traditional, conservative family used to be…still she loved...she fought and she won...no matter how small her dreams might seem to us...she made it true. She fought selflessly for her family, her children. For a better tomorrow...forgetting her share of happiness.....her face was glowing as the bright sun was shining ...the same way as it did which changed her years back. After a while...he looked at her and said...

"I’m proud of us"
Her life was lived complete in a single moment!



That very night I was born...