Scripting the Dream

I remember being 5 and wanting to be an engineer. How much of that was my own doing, and how much my parents brainswashing into n0t being a doctor i’m not sure. But there i was. 5 and dreaming. Now with a year left on my engineering degree I wonder if that dream was the one i wanted to follow. Or if I would  be happier as a doctor, or a pilot, or a professional game tester. Then i was 10 and saying ha! I’m gonna be a cricketer. The next Sachin. HA! . I should have known right then. There was never much hope of that. Then the crucial 10th and 12th and then deciding on engineering. BAH! My god , those were torrid times. And its amazing , that happened almost 4 years ago. Insane. Time really does fly. Even when you’re not really having fun. There have been regrets. Yes. But there don’t have to be. Its important to realise that you get only one shot at life. You make the most of it. But. There is only so much you can do in one go. The purpose of life is nothing more than fulfilling those dreams you seem to chase all your life. Some you manage to catch, some you have to let them go on their merry ways. That unfortunately is life. The unfortunate truth is most times you’re gonna be living the dreams you didn’t want to be stuck with. Again. That is life. That’s what makes life challenging. Realising which the realistic dreams are, and which the ones you can afford to let go. It’s also about being happy. Sometimes all y0u need to do , is spend a good hour laughing at the past with an Old friend. Or a good book. And suddenly all the dreams come to you. Good spirits seem to bring the dreams closer. Other spirits also . But the latter are less likely to help you in getting what you want. I could be wrong though . Don’t take this to heart any of you. Live your lives YOUR way. At the end of the day. What makes you happy is what you should keep doing. Cause there is nothing more valuable than a happy day. Anyway. That’s a rant .

Them

She was simple, uncomplicated and absolutely happy with her life. Enter him.  He made her laugh, made her cry and made her go through every other emotion in between. When she didn’t speak to him, she seemed less happy.  She wondered what this strange feeling was. She was confused. It would be agaisnt her principles to tell him, but he was a ‘male’.  And like all ‘males’ he was stupid, rather thick in the head and absolute clueless.

He knew her. Or so he thought. After all she’d been to school with him, they’d fought tooth and nail for years now. Sometimes not speaking for ages. He didn’t seem to care too much. But that wasn’t true. He was a ‘guy’. He didn’t really show what he felt.  He was rather smart. But he still didn’t understand ‘girls’.  He didn’t know how to make conversation. But he sure liked listening to her. Whether it was how stupid her social studies teacher was , cause he got more than her. Or what she’d shopped for that day. It made his day a little brighter each time they did speak. But he’d never admit it. He was a ‘man’!

They finally met somewhere in the middle. She basically had to spoon feed it to him cause he didn’t have a clue.

 

How typical she would tell her friends later. But how cute . And they went on to discuss how stupidly lovable and cute he was for the next few hours . Giggling and doing those other things ‘girls’ do.

He would say, “yeah. We are seeing each other now”, and accepted the high fives and pats on the back, from his buddies and they went back to their game of poker. An unspoken conversation went on though, “Wow. This might actually be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And nothing can ever take her away”. ” Dude, that’s awesome” . ” Lucky bastard” .

An ideal story would end happily ever after. But a male and female can never get along. Something or the other keeps creeping in and this story had its rocky bits. So like any good story , they’ll be skipped. And we fast forward to them old and greying. Still fighting over who got more in that  social studies exam , as the sun set over their idealic cottage in the mountains.

Her

It was overcast, and this day belied the rest of the summer. It just seemed like something bad was bound to happen or something good. I couldn’t really say which.  There was that musty addictive smell that hits you just before the downpour begins. But there was to be no rain today. There really isn’t much you can do on a day like this but turn over, pull the sheets closer to your chin, hope that noone decides to call you and get the hell back to sleep. But here i was.Alone. Standing at kitchen counter built for two , on the floor lay that yellow container of sleeping pills. I’d worked my way through this week. It had been torrid. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t work and I was pissed off. I don’t know if it was just the lack of sleep , or the thought of having nothing to do that made me so mad and no one to talk to. It seemed the system was out to get me. But then its out to get everyone , a little voice seemed to say. And i looked out the window and there was in the distance was a stairway of light. Suddenly, everything seemed far away , and then the first yawn I’d had all week. As I curled up in bed, alone ,I saw the light, and slowly in my dreams walked towards it.

Death is a funny thing. You see it where you least expect it.

I awoke to the sounds of the raining flooding my room coming in thru the open window. And as I climbed out of  bed I reached across to where she might have been, and found a letter that explained it all. At the window now, I wasn’t sure how much of the wetness on my face was water and how much tears. I miss you.

Of controversies and insanity

The week gone by has been more than interesting. There were kicks, punches, grenades, balls and even shoes being thrown and oh yes, televisions. This is what life has come to . Dodging something or the other all the time! 

 

It started off with the IPL. The hostels went mad. And with a largely north indian population,supporting a south Indian team wasn’t going to be easy. But showing our overall resolve we managed to commandeer a television in one of the hostels and all of us  crowded around to watch the game which, unfortunately, we lost. Still, after the magic of last year’s tourney, the mood of the hostels were upbeat. That is until the next day, when it came to light that some idiots, upset that their Royals had lost, chucked a TV off the 6th floor of a hostel. Fucking idiots. The management in all its might , took the drastic step of removing all TV’s on campus in case of any more rogue attacks on them.  So, now we’re left to watch what games we can at the local sutta shop with its 10″ tv. .

 

Then , there was a repeat of the shoe throwing incident in Iraq about 4 months ago. This time , in India. A pissed off journalist, decided it was a good time to chuck his trainers at Chidambaram. As is usual with these things, he missed. I swear, these can’t hit the broad side of a barn. First of all , they’re throwing the shoes at, in my personal view, people with the most swollen heads in the world. As Neon said, ‘ a good politician is an oxymoron’. . They should really take a class in throwing from the powers that be in indian politics. The barbs have been flowing thick and fast, and i think this is one of the dirtiest elections ever. Much more for us to enjoy. But , it worries me. What if during the next political term we’re led by a blubbering buffoon who thinks English must be made ‘Non compulsory’. OK. We’ll just curse you in a regional language then,sounds much worse than it does in english. Seriously, voter bases can be influenced by what religion , or what language the canditate is most proficient in. Its just plain sad. Of course, the manifesto’s of our most well known politicians are more or less the same. Its just who gets more attention, the incumbents, or the guy who you see on Orkut and Pirate bay asking you to join the BJP and vote for him

 

I understand the big push to get the youth voting, but seriously, who are we going to vote for? The Lok Paritran, the IIT/IIM party has gone underground it seems. The rest are all just range from bad to worse to very very WORSSSSSHT.  Raul Gandhi himself has failed his paper in National planning and management. But i’m sure none of out mosr respected polticos would pass either, or even know to read the paper , so it matters not. So please, Read carefully before you vote. The statuatory warning on the EVM should be ” Voting for your leaders will not improve standard of life or nation”. It’s true. I’m cynical . If i’m offending anyone, i apologise , but its true. 

 

Now that’s what i call i call a rant . 

Until next time..

The Gathering Storm

This evening was unlike any i’ve seen around here in the past few days. Initially it started out like any other HOT summer day, with people fighting for shade,and milling around any air conditioned oasises they could find. But come 5 this evening, everything changed. A sudden life seemed to breathed into surroundings. There was a strong breeze, that made the trees with their parched leaves shake and rattle .  The wind was strong enough to blow a few of them off the tree , and created tiny whirlpools of leaves a la american beauty all over the place. There is seldom a more calming sight than watching the leaves move , as if in a game of tag ,seeminglyof their own accord. The wind kicked up the dust and as the sand clouds moved around the place, making visibility low and that feeling of being in fog. Unfortunately,unlike a fog,you opened your mouth and you’d probably have a mouthful of mud.

 

The sky began to darken , as dark clouds moved in, replacing the bright sunshine, with a morose hue of grey. It seemed certain to rain,and really pour at that. Any rain would have been welcome given the heat of the past few days , but for all  ominousness, yet again , we weren’t lucky enough to have that one summer shower,the freshens up everything, tired minds and souls included. 

Sigh .Would have been nice , given the day I’ve had .

Ah Chennai, How i love thee

Chennai, Madras , Enga Area whatever you may call it, is still the best place in the world. My first memories of Madras are hazy, a place where i’d come for the holidays,spend a few days and then head back to one of the many places I’ve lived at. I remember the shop around the corner,that sold everything you could possibly need, from cucumbers to camera film ( yes ! we used film then (oh god ! i feel old now! ) . The ice cream shop opposite that sold Kwality Wall’s ice cream , and more importantly Max Orange, which has messed up many a shirt,shorts and table cover. The small bakery that sold the world’s best chocolate cake, and the temple that rang its bell every morning and woke us all up. There was also this cozy little library,that fueled the reading habit. I was going at a book a day then .

Now leaving in 06 was difficult, coz i’d spent my high school years there. 5 years to experience the Chennai ( yes it changed ) i knew from my holidays. I had found it hadn’t changed too much. the corner shop was still there. Only now the shop was about twice as big and had another branch as well.  The ice cream shop was stil there , he still sold max orange , and now he added computer spares to his ever widening collection of items. The bakery that started out small, now bought the entire floor it used to be on. It’s expanded, become air conditioned and opened branches all over the city. And yep he still gives me free cake =D.  The library had shifted locations, not too far away still, but expanded their book collection and still had the old stock .  The temple was still there , its bells waking me every morning, despite wanting to stay under the blanket for another hour. And we shifted homes , from the independant house with the wide garden, to the 2nd floor of the flats, 3 doors away.

I learnt a lot about Chennai in the few years i was a resident in its heart. One, you never ,ever pay the auto guy the price he quotes . The best food is often found in the most inconspicuous places ( Kayandhi Bhavan , I’m talking about you ) . The city is still steeped in tradition, though, the so called pub culture is thriving. Marina Beach is still crowded , it always has been and always will be. There is no better place to waste an evening,alone,or with company ,than Elliot’s beach. There is no better sambar anywhere in the world. There is no other city where you are safer . There is still no one bigger than Rajini. There is no city where you can find , a Merc parked outside a thattu kada getting dosas. No better place to play cricket than Soma. And no more awesome place in the whole world to spend the rest of your life. It’s the ideal blend of the past, the present and the future. As represented by the swaamiyaar, driving his trusty TVS 50, while jabbering away on his bluetooth headset.

It is also home to the best people in the whole world . I miss you,you lot . And no matter how far I am from thee Chennai, you will always be home , for that is where the heart abides.

It is never easy to cope with a death. And I think anyone who claims is either lying, or just in plain shock. Everyone has their own ways of coping. Some need to cry , some find peace in helping others cope ,some drink the memory away. Me? I just try to remember the best memory I can, and focus on that, generally it involves the person who’s passed on. It helps, a few tears are shed, considering that the magic of that moment will never be recreated. You hear about people dying everyday, yet its not often that you can put yourselves in their shoes. A good friend passed away a week ago today. And I might not have been his best friend, or him mine. But I’ve known for about 3 years now, and it’s strange that fate decides to quell those who seem so full of life. A joke here, a laugh there, drinking sessions that lasted the night, events that even though I might not have been present at, but the stories the next day were so hilarious they left you gasping fro breath. It’s nice to know he’ll be remembered as a great friend, and someone who sailed through life with a smile for a sail.

If there is a god, he is mysterious in his ways. It is perhaps unfair to say Why him/her ? Because life seems to prove, that for every door that closes, another opens. And in some unknown way, this could be for the best. I know that’s terribly cliché, but I’ll say it anyway. Coz more often that not, it’s true.

So we’ll remember you forever, in our hearts and minds you’ll be there. In our thoughts we’ll remind ourselves of all the fun we’ve had , and in our prayers pray that you’re all right up there. We’ll miss you.

Emotion

In this world, moving at its lightning pace,
Birth, life and death are common place.
The joy, the hope and the agony of each,
our stoic defences they breach.

For all the bravado we display,
our actions are, at best, morally gray.
We realize slowly, day by day,
that coping is not,keeping things at bay.

Let it out and let it in,
shed a tear,flash a grin,
scream in agony, and in ecstasy revel,
those past demons with a good laugh quell.

Wince as you rub that old scar,
enjoy the wind as you drive real far,
yearn for the warmth of a hug,
and at that old embarassment shrug .

Smile at that old joke,
Laugh as you remember your first smoke,
Shed a tear for those passed on,
and those friends long gone.

This’s been a long time coming. It seems more poignant after this week. We will miss you .

The comeback

Yes. It is I. It has been a LONG while.I’m gonna be rusty so bear with me as I get my bearings back =D. Yes, the poor humour will also make a return. If you’ve been wondering where I’d disappeared all this time, it’s gonna take a lot of explaining. But seeing as I have all the time in the world, or seem to at least, I shall tell you the tale of how I managed to get past 2 and a half years of college with some trouble along the way.

The trouble of course started brewing a long time before I stopped blogging. In the mean while , I’d decided of course , to continue on my unwise adventure of taking an engineering subject so difficult, you have to have a mental check when you’re done. ECE. Sigh. How I regret that decision : ( . Anyway, that’s that. In fact , I don’t even live in the same place as I used to when I stopped blogging. My family got bitten by the travel bug, and they’ve lived in 3 different states after that. And now live in a different country altogether! Yes. I have become “Gelf” return. Funny know? How all mallu’s somehow or the other end up there, it’s become a second kerala. What else has been happening? I seem to be the only person capable of putting on weight ,eating not much else than mess food. but that’s alright, it’s not thaaat much of a surprise considering I’ll eat anything, hence pseudonyms have been coined including Tommy the Tank ( that’s a drinking story ) , the bottomless pit , among other things .

Yes anyway, now that I’m back , and I have a working internet connection , it is highly likely that I’ll be back to my blogging best. If there ever was one. If there wasn’t , then hell I’m gonna blog anyway . As and when I can that is. There is much to be blogged about. In many ways , I lost interest. But then again inspiration strikes at very strange times and Good Friday surprisingly is one of them .

Anyhoo , I take me leave for now. Sleep beckons , on a day that I have off . Religion is good only because we get holidays .