Walking Through A Deathbed

The title I had in my head was 'Walking Through A Deathbed And Amongst Brain Dead People'. Yeah, thankfully I cut it short! But this is a long - pending post with the same title stuck in my head since I have been wanting to write it. Read on if you're ready for some more rants!

Doesn't it get irritating when the simplest tasks in your life start getting complicated and worsen each day? Like, crossing that bloody road everyday - morning and evening! It's like an MTv Roadies task (which I luckily win everyday!!). Or may be it's the fact that all the good drivers are not present on the road when I'm out! May it be walking or even if I take a bike!

For crossing those roads, even if I do follow the pedestrian signal, I have to check the signal I'm crossing for the possibility of a moron trying to jump a signal. Oh why even go that far! When I'm walking on the pavements - YES, they ARE meant for people like me, and we are a category called pedestrians - I have to look back often for a bike might just hit me! I don't know what they'll achieve by jumping those signals, or by driving on the pavement! You're not the only one in a hurry you know! Or may be you wanna use the loo urgently. I'm sorry if that's the case.

The moment people realise that the signal is going to turn green, you should listen to the sounds of those vehicles. Accelerators raising. I feel as if I'm witnessing a live F1 race! Vroom vroom! Vrooooooooom! Oh yes, and these wanna be F1 racers will not wait for the pedestrians to cross the signal, even if they're midway. Because basically those who have those things with metal bodies to sit inside or on it, own the bloody roads! We pedestrians are a havoc for them!! Did anyone say 'respect for pedestrians?' Oh! I can't stop laughing when I hear that phrase.

You get an idea of the deathbed I'm talking about, right?

Now let's talk about the Brain Dead people. Well the above rants kinda explain that category. Nonsensical people who have been given these vehicles to drive, who do not even know the basic rules of the roads! Forget the rules! Basic sense is missing. I respect the man who came up with a true line, "Common sense is the most uncommon". Respect dude.

The other category of Brain Dead people is, in layman language, the perverts. Oh sorry, the organ brain is missing from their body, I think. And that's why they're special in a way. The no brains category sounds muuuuuch better. As if it wasn't enough to face them in buses, you have to be alert as a pedestrian and sometimes, even as a driver. As a pedestrian, you never know when and how they will come.

I have to utilise my brain in things like crossing roads, climbing buses (as they refuse to stop mostly), walking on pavements, being alert about the perverts around!! Now this is what I call waste of energy and brains! Getting irritated because other people do not have the...the....what's the word I'm looking for....SENSE.

All I desire at the end of the day is peace. I repeat - peace. Can I have some?? Hello?? Damn it!

When Things Turn Ugly

There is no term as ugly for me, in terms of people. Every person is beautiful, in his/her own way. Everybody has flaws, that doesn't make them look ugly.
But situations turn ugly. And its unbearable. You've believed all your life, that nothing can be ugly because you don't believe in people being ugly. But you're consciously unaware that things around you can turn ugly. You try to get over it, but everytime it pulls you down and makes you realise that it has always been ugly.
You don't know if you should be silent or speak up about the ugliness. Will it be hurtful? Why should you be the one to have that lump in your throat for the ugliness around? And if you do speak up, the ugliness snaps back at you. Hurting you more.
And you realise, ugliness can make you feel helpless. Your belief that every human being is beautiful, strengthens. Human beings are not ugly. It is the situation that makes them look ugly. But it takes time to get over the ugliness.

And it's rightly been put through these words from a song by Audioslave:

And even when you've paid enough, been pulled apart or been held up
With every single memory of the good or bad faces of luck
Don't lose any sleep tonight
I'm sure everything will end up alright

You may win or lose

But to be yourself is all that you can do

Iktara

I watched 'Wake Up Sid' again. Love that movie for the simple factor of being genuine. I guess I had forgotten why I used to smile genuinely. 'Ayesha' reminded me of it. She brought the smile back on my face.
The feeling of being independent, and most importantly in a great city, not just any other city. That rush of excitement and happiness, for no good reason sometimes. The nervousness of surviving in a strange city. The things that make a city lovable, and the fact that you start loving it too for the same reasons, apart from your own reasons.
The weather in Bangalore is awesome today, after a long time. The way it used to be when I had come to the city. The morning factor that made me smile all day long, kept me active and most importantly - happy. Though the weather might change during the day today, the effect has been done. :)
It's the fact that you have trustworthy friends, close friends in a city which was a stranger to you about a year ago. But it welcomed you with arms wide open! It made you fall in love with it. It made you fall in love with the people, the lifestyle. It became a friend within a month. It made you comfortable in less than a month. It just brought out the you in you.
It's never the city that makes you low on some days. It's always the people around you that matter. Or maybe the person within you. I can never blame this city for anything wrong. I love it to the core. It's like a relationship. A love - hate relationship. Where you hate it sometimes, because of the people.
It's like everyday you have a story to tell. Which reminds of this line from a song in Wake Up Sid - "Sun rahi hun sudh - budh khoke, koi main kahaani, poori kahaani hai kya kise hai pata...."
This city has given me my freedom. I love Bangalore. And it has definitely struck the right chord of my heart, which brings the other chords in tune. :)

Being young

Being young means different things for different people. Majority of us are career - oriented, no doubt. One of my close friends is my age. And his hard work taught me a lesson in a subtle way.
Confessing that he wasn't serious about a career at one point of time in life, he told me he loves being a CA intern now. His love, dedication, passion towards his work is commendable. I've never seen a CA 'enthusiast', quite frankly. All the CA interns I know are definitely serious about it, but are not enthusiastic. There is a difference. Work for him is fun. CA? Fun? He's the first amongst my friends who are CA interns, who has fun at work!
He worked overnight once, only to go back at the normal office timing i.e. within hours! I opined that he does not need to work so hard and its too much for his age! It didn't matter to him, as he knew what he was doing. He works for 24hrs straight quite a few times. His will, determination, motives are crystal clear. This all is besides his studies. Suddenly, a thought struck me. And I must say, he inspired me to write this post :)
When our previous generation used to nag about what being young means, I never paid attention. After seeing this guy work so hard, the picture that was a blur, became clear.
Being young to that generation meant hard work, determination, will. When he works all night, the picture of hard work comes into being. When he tells me about his work and how it will be good for both, his company and his client, the motive of selfless determination was clarified.
He does not wait to get praised from his boss. He does his work, not for the sake of it though. With his will to do it. Probably he believes that fruits will be borne, once the seed is sown.
Well, he's 22 yrs young! And 'I' had never met a person so young to go that extra mile. There are some people in one's life who teach you big lessons, in a small way. He is one of them for me. He cannot be called a workaholic, for sure. He is not a boring guy either. When it gets to fun, he's the first one in the line. He strikes the right balance.
I don't know if this post makes for a good one, but it is important for me. I'm proud of him for what he is. And thankful that he is a close friend in my life. :)

Loving the rains...

It finally rained in Bangalore! I love rains! I love getting wet in the rains as well. It soothes me and my soul. I am a romantic person, and the rains just make me happy. It's such a romantic season.
Waking up to a morning of rainy clouds is just enough to give me that rush of excitement and happiness. Walking through the rains today, brought back some memories of time spent in the rainy season...
When I was in school, me and my best friend used to walk back home, though we had bicycles. We used to act silly by jumping and splashing in the puddles of water on our way back. Mom's scoldings regarding ruining the dresses, shoes and socks, somehow added to the fun :D
By the time I came to college, the romantic side of me started to peek at me. Walking to college everyday in the rains, made me smile. Graduation was the time when I had a two wheeler to myself. And God did I love to ride in the rains!! I wanted excuses to step out and drive till one of the lakes, feeling those water droplets on my face (they hurt sometime :P). The enjoyment continued when after the ride I waited eagerly for the adrak ki chai, along with my friends. When I used to reach home, Mom would jump and ask if I was ready for some hot pakoras. It was as if Mom could sense the need of those pakoras.
Moving to Bangalore was like a bliss for me in more ways than one. One of them being the untimely rains! The Bangalore weather makes me happy everyday (unless its damn sunny), and the rains just add to the happiness.
Today is one of those days, and the smile on my face will stay throughout :)
The song on my mind is Iktara - both the female and the male version....

Flying without wings...

I travelled in a flight for the first time, a few days ago. I was excited the moment I saw my tickets!! It was a Kingfisher ticket!! "Wow!", I thought, "Flying for the first time and that too KF!! Ah! Life is a blessing!!"
My sister was as excited to know this as I was! She told me quite a few things that I should keep in mind before, during and after the flight. I did not want to know how it feels when the flight takes off, or lands. Since, I already had heard about nausea and such stuff!!
Putting my foot down at the airport, and knowing that I have to board a flight, felt so good. I was like a kid, smiling and excited all through. That great feeling of being waved at by my sister when I was getting in, was unmatchable. Even getting through the formalities in a rush, since we were late for our flight, kept me smiling. The morning fog welcomed us, when we were being taken towards the airbus. Felt fresh after a long time, and that too on an airport!!
Luckily, I got the window seat. What else could I ask for! When the flight took off, it felt like a roller coaster ride!! And snap! I was flying almost instantly! It was like a dream come true for me! In a few minutes we were between the clouds! It was as if the clouds accumulated to form a new land....
I kept looking out of the window throughout the flight. So much so that I sprained my neck!! :) We were flying over Kolhapur when I looked down at the mountain ranges. They looked exactly the way I've seen in books. Beautiful. Geography lessons would be much better and interesting this way, I thought to myself.
The experience somehow reminded of my childhood. We could see the Nagpur airport from the terrace of our apartment. So clearly so that the runway, the signal, everything was visible. Everytime a plane would roar by, we would rush to the terrace to see it wandering in the sky for a while, and then land. The take offs were more interesting as the plane would turn a few times on the runway and zoom! It was in the sky! That was a regular schedule, running to the terrace for that view. Especially during nights, when we would judge the flight's existence by it's colourful lights. And here I was, sitting in the same plane I always saw from my apartment.
Yes, the kid in me came to life again. The excitement, the joy, the realisation. The smile and the grin on my face could only be justified by me. And I didn't care what other people thought about my excitement or happiness. The experience mattered to me a lot.
And all through the flight, I couldn't help but remember the lines, "I'm flying without wings...."

Lessons learnt in silence....

(This was written by me around a year ago or more than that....)
My dad used to say, "The second child among the three always gets stuck!" He was the second among three brothers. Not that I believed him, but even I encountered his point in very few aspects of my life. My grandma was telling us that day, that my dad used to write with his left hand, but he was scolded & sometimes even beaten till he got into the habit of writing with his right hand. Probably he didn't like it, who knows! But he never expressed his feelings about that, as he always suppressed his feelings later in life too. He hardly told what he felt, especially when something he didn't like would happen. He was made to do what he didn't want to do.
I guess most of the kids (at least in India) are bound to do what they don't like to do, just because the parents want it (the scenario is changing now though). Dad never pressurised us in any of the matters. I loved my dad from the bottom of my heart. I appreciated whatever he did. I always saw him smiling & in a positive role, & I know that is how he was. I don't remember a single time when he was negative in any way. Not even when he was going through the pains & sufferings later..... As my uncle said & I agreed,"He fought like a tiger." In those years of his treatment too, he always smiled his evergreen smile...
I liked the man he was - a perfect son, brother, husband, father, friend. To him, friends mattered a lot, like they matter to me & my sister. He had maintained all kinds of relationships really well, & in a way - charmingly.
My family recalls how he used to hang out with friends. Their 'adda' was Coffee House. All of his friends & him used to meet & get into discussions. It was like a ritual for him. Their group was called DONKEY which had a full form too, but I don't remember it. Me & Di are like him in this matter too, except that our groups don't have names! Just give us a cup of coffee & friends! On we go chatting about all sorts of things. I like the fact that we are similar to him in some ways. Recently I started visiting Coffee House too, quiet frequently.
He was a good author in terms of whatever he wrote. His writings reflected the creativity inside him. He used to write introductory paras for Di's debates & speeches. And she won most of them. I somehow think that his contribution was a major factor for her winning. After all, the intro matters a lot in a speech. I too won a few prizes because of him. After his death, Di caught his style of writing the introduction of her debates & speeches, & her skills of public speaking added feathers to her cap. Dad must be so proud of her....
He always used to make both of us feel that he's proud of us....though he never said it....we knew. As my family tells me, he wanted only girls when mom was pregnant. He was proud since the day he became the father of two girls. When both of us were born, he distributed sweets to most of the staff in the hospital!! He had decided that his first girl will be named Anupama (after the movie by that name). It just amazes me how confident he was that his first child (& later the second) will be a daughter!!
He brought us up making us feel that we are the apple of his eyes. Infact, he always said,"Anu is my right eye & Niru is my left eye." When he told me that, as a child I would be immensely happy, & I still am. I still feel the excitement of those words & I'll cherish them all through. At his funeral, I didn't cry much....till Di came & reminded me of these same words....I was unstoppable after that.
His death made me feel less powerful. May be because I lost his support, his faith, his confidence. Whenever I am down or feel undecisive, I miss him the most. Because I know, that he would've smiled at me & my decisions. He would've believed in me. It would've been much better if he was around....I miss him...
I used to hear my friends say (& still do), that my father scolded me or beat me....And I would say to myself,"Dad never scolded me, forget beating!!" Infact when mom used to scold us or raise hands on us to beat, few times he would tell her to stop! That's how he was. I specifically remember one time when Peddamma came & asked dad to scold me because I was teasing her or something....He just said "Niru" in a slightly raised voice than ususal, & that's it!! I teased Peddamma all day saying that I told you he wouldn't do that.
He used to give Di & me different pet names, which changed periodically, sometimes based on current affairs! Like Akdu - Pakdu from Jungle Book, Budapest - Bucharest, Trinchomali - Battikalova, etc. Di was more than happy when she visited her Pet name City recently (Budapest). I am waiting for my turn....
Dad taught us everything about life in his own ways. He gave us freedom at the right time, & restricted us when he felt like (which was hardly ever). We learnt our freedom & limits quite well, & later he didn't have to tell us!!
He was a very calm man. Less talkative. But still silently eloquent. I could see the charm in those eyes, the love for his family, for life....
He took things in life as they came, but with that unmatchable, evergreen smile.
I learnt that from him.