Friday, October 19, 2012

You Know When...

Bad Day.

Back in those days, I just found myself lying on a cold  study-room floor eating oreo cookies and full hand of amul powder at 2pm.That sixth sense movie playing in my room because I had had an awful day. The next morning while I met Madhu In office I was sure to tell her, "you know it's a bad day when..."


She got crushed for a guy who we would refer to by first, middle, and last name. It was like the popular guy in total college era,and those names were always referred to on a first and last name basis. (Like Not just Angelina. Angelina Jolie.) This guy in particular actually had quite the iconic-sounding name, and I'd write it down for all of you, except if he were to ever Google himself, he would most likely find his way to my blog. Anyway, one day she got onto the beloved-aged orkut and found out that First/Middle/Last name of the guy had just entered into a relationship for all the cyber-world to see. She somehow ended up taking a walk in the rain that night, drowning (literally) in her sorrows.Caught up with fever followed by bronchitis and then screwed up one subject in semester. You know that saying, "Eight out of nine times the guy you're getting an ulcer over is not getting an ulcer over you.So Relax!!"This is actually true. I didn't hear from her for two days. When I met her long time after her first words were, "You know it's bad when..."


Yes.One depressed morning you felt like having chicken. You made it to MG Road KFC ,which ain't open for that day till the early time. And then with all desperado mind you travel back to Karkhana road KFC and  bought a bucket of chicken.Surprisingly you ate it all.And as the time passes your soundtrack changes from Nick Drake's Cello song(That once was inspiring to lead a morale life) to Alka Yagnik's "Dil Tha yahan abhi abhi"..And then you mumble to yourself , "You know it's bad when..."

This whole post is just a ramble, really, because sometimes that's all I want to do when I have free time. I'm glad that since this time we all have been gratefully making some epic strides.

I don't know how you can survive life without laughing at yourself.We all are morons one day and for the time lets just imitate now.Here.Dig a hole in your brain.

Go On. :)

Thursday, October 11, 2012


Once the Bata shoes started becoming muddy and then saturday came with white Lakhani shoes , and the sun became a little bit more orange than yellow, Saturdays weren't our favorites anymore, but Sunday nights were. Childhood is a favorite of all time in so many ways, but so many of my reasons is simply because of home. Growing up, we had our saturday morning parade, Sunday night Surabhi, Afternoon Mango feast at the backyard,Preparing for school-annual-festival,babysitting near by aunt's daughter during school days and best of all: Sunday late morning lunch like deep-fried rohu fish and boiled egg, and rice, and followed by curd.

It somehow became a tradition along the lines that the first TV Series we'd always watch together as a family during the season was Malgudi Days. It was always papa's favorite, and naturally, became one of mine too. My eyes always sting when I see the poster of that imaginary village with lots of  railway tracks zigzagging till the way your eyes can see.It just did not say so much. But I always felt so much. I still do.I still bought the book last month. Do they have Malgudi anywhere nearby. Did R K Narayan have been to such fortune of being to that place, time or he just tried to get us all stuffed hard!!


Monday, October 1, 2012

All Spiritual @4.00AM

So October starts here,with a heavy rain and lots of thoughts.And yes with an added feature like holiday's tomorrow.It's 4 am IST, To my surprise again I and my roomie are still awake and talking about the series of stories we've come across since our 25 years.So after this hours of jobless banter,I consider myself a very analytic person. I watch people, I listen closely.I eavesdrop on the couple sitting in the booth behind me when it is obvious they are on a first date,  I read people's tattoos(Knowingly My tattoo does not symbolize I go for guitars.I still search for connection in life among various fellas tattoos.) and ponder the meaning behind them, I dissect body language, and over-analyze punctuation in text messages. This often gets me in trouble with my own thoughts, but there are the rare and special moments when I witness something so personal and amazing that it makes for  an almost cinematic moment that most people wouldn't notice.

Like today for instance, I think I stretched my ligament a little more today in the morning warm-up, so I was slowly hobbling across swimming pool area to get started with my practice. As I walked,  I saw this young man in a motorized wheel chair coming toward me on the pool walkway, he looked as though he had muscular dystrophy or some sort of paralysis. I looked down at my phone to change the song, and when I looked back up to smile at him as we crossed paths, I realized that he had disappeared from my view. I kept walking and as I came around a pillar I saw that he had pulled his wheelchair up to the steps that overlooks the swimming pool.

He was as close to the topmost steps there,as he could get, with his head slung to one side of his wheelchair's headrest, he sat and watched as the tan, fit, athletes dove beautifully into the water, swimming easily with each stride. I wondered if this was a ritual, if he watched the swim team regularly or if he just happened to be passing by. Either way, whatever the case, it was a stark comparison. This boy in the wheelchair, with shriveled muscles, trapped in a body that doesn't work even half as well as it was meant to. I slowed my pace as I watched the boy, he lifted his head from his headrest, and barely able to support his head he looked down into the blue chlorinated water that gave these athletes a hobby, a way of life, a reason to push their bodies to limits. Limits that this boy had possibly never experienced.

Their lungs breathing deep- in and out of the water, strong shoulders pushing the weight of the water away from their bodies(Talking of which, I got to know a fact today, while I was reading Phelps hands propels a more 6 ft+ circle than his height.Which is absolutely one of the miracles. ), propelling them further across the chlorinated surface. Now keep in mind that I don't know this young man, I don't know anything about his condition, how long he has been in a wheelchair, his name, or even what color his eyes are.. but I do know that today he touched me in one of these strangely cinematic ways that I referenced earlier.

He made me grateful for my body, despite the fact that my foot was throbbing and I was limping across the total area, I have a body, a body that works well and a body that is healthy.I over-read at some place that, when we die, our spirits leave our earthly bodies and will be reunited with a perfect body.  Those who struggle in this life with a disability, a mental deficiency, an imperfect body, or whatever else may be their struggle, will have the chance to walk, run, swim, think, LIVE with a new and beautiful body in the most prime and perfect form that a body and a mind can be in.Sounds lame,right.However I have been thinking about that guy lately and I am sure we should be thankful for every little and big achievement and failure of ours.

It's late like almost morning. And it's raining that heavily outside that she opened to the balcony for 2 minute-ish and it's all mosquitoes around and That defines I am gonna have to pass the rest time like total awake(I almost feel like Les Stroud-ish).Now Is the moment when I miss Pragyan singing the below song at the terrace at midnight looking at the gazillion fireworks on the mountain of the small city Dhenkanal,emphasizing with her phony voice on,
"Roshhhniiiiiii kaa koi dariyaa to hai, haan kahi pe jaroor"

PS:I did not mean to get all spiritual on you,It's just happened.Now that it happened You can sleep off to a Thanksgiving to Almighty.Amen :)