Reality Check 101

The world and its uncles are getting married. Designer weddings. Choreographed sangeets. Fancy Destinations. Pre-wed shoots. Photoshopped memories. Everything made to look glossy, classy and Instagrammed.

The world and its uncles are also building their first homes. Brick by brick. EMI by EMI.  Not a house. A home. Playing hosts. Throwing parties. Cleaning the mess after everyone's left. The first Holi, Diwali, Rangoli. Straight out of an Asian Paints ad.

The world and its uncles are also getting pregnant. And having babies!! Creating actually living beings. Of flesh and blood. Of pee and poop. Gurgling laughter and late-night cries. Something about motherhood and being complete...now that they have delivered out a part of themselves.

And in the meanwhile. Here I am. Fretting about where my career's headed and when will I add more stamps on my passport. Hmm.

So on a day like today, when my life pauses for a tiny little moment, and I finally get some time to  ponder and wonder, all those seldom-pushed-back thoughts run amok.

'Go ahead...take the leap!' the silly heart prods. 

'Wait a minute here...are you sure about this?' the mind double-checks.

They say its the most important decision I would ever make. Then how come no one ever prepared me for this? After pouring over textbooks and truckloads of photocopied notes (Mumbai University style. Oh yeah!) I thought I was ready for the death by power-point. And I endured...hours of excel, jargons and frameworks. Not just endured...survived. I even gave in and made peace with the system! So you see, I spent a majority of my life prepping for the career while no one bothered to inform me that this was only the second most important thing in my life? Hmmph.

So spare me your raised eyebrows while I google for relationship advice or better still...for a crash course on Coursera. Heck, I have even taken to exclusively listening to romantic music, you know...just to get into the groove. Oh! And I am also reading threads on Quora such as this one here, on friend's recommendations. (One a separate note - Don't we love friends like these who help us a day before exam? Stay up all night just so we don't fall asleep? Making us maggi and coffee and bearing all our last-minute hysteria?) 

And so, my dear readership of 23, I hope that in some time from now - I would have done my research, collated enough data points and drawn insights *sniggers* to finally be able to finally take the most important decision of my life. *insert prayers here*

Phew. Getting married seems like a critical life project with a stringent deadline and no scope for mistakes. Unraveling the mysteries of life with a partner after the dating niceties are done and dusted! *shivers*. So on that upbeat note, just one question to all married folks out there. How long into the dating process did you decide to tie the knot? Before or after you got comfortable enough to burp/fart in front of each other? :D

Packing life in cartons..yet again!

Come this weekend and life as I know shall never be the same again.

In a few days I move into a one BHK apartment [rented ofcourse] and for the first time after moving to the new city almost 1.5 years ago, I shall be truly independent. Sharing a place with flat-mates was fun...more like a hostel with a canteen attached for a midnight maggi session where you never feel the burden of responsibilities.

However, renting a place all by oneself seems like a big deal. Rent, maintenance, maid, electricity, gas, cable, internet - just a few deductibles one needs to remember each month. Simply to survive! I already shudder at the thought of having to keep the laundry bag empty and the fridge full at all times [probability of the reverse is always higher]. I already need to buy stuff like bed, cupboard, TV, refrigerator and a gas stove. yeah, did I mention the apartment is unfurnished? But I kind of like it that way. It's better to have no furniture than being stuck with the bad one.

So let me describe you my cute little place. It's got an L shaped drawing room, a perfect square of a bedroom, a washroom that's just the right size, a narrow rectangular kitchenette and a lovely balcony that runs along the bedroom and kitchen space. That's it...All mine! :)

Oh! Did I mention it's on the sixth floor and gets some seriously lovely breeze in the evening? 

Curtains, carpets, cushions...all in the colour scheme!! The mind is already drawing endless shopping lists. Want to buy a fridge? 165 or 220 litres? Single/double door? Frost/de-frost? Which brand? Which model? What guarantee? Phew!! So many decisions...and I haven't even come to the colours yet!

Whatever said and done...I know I await this experience. I feel almost ready jumping into this role of being super-independent. From where I am looking, it seems pretty well-timed and well-transitioned. But one can never be too sure, right?  

Packing my life, yet again, in bags & cartons, I can't help but feel like a nomad, who is just a bit too eager to make every place her own. 

Wish me luck,

Cheers.

“Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help.” - Calvin

Ever had your computer hang when you try to open too many browsers or tabs? That obviously has been due to too much of an overload for the poor machine. [Ok geeks - do not get technical on me and explain how a computer actually hangs]. 

The human mind [at least mine] acts in a much similar fashion. Too many emotions sends it into a temporary numb state and one either needs to sleep it off or shake it like crazy to shut-off and re-start.

This week me and my people went through the shock and grief a colleague-friend's sudden death. The experience was traumatic for many of us. But personally, nothing was more mind-numbing than watching my friend's funeral [the traditional Hindu way]. Yes, I stood there...by her pyre. Watched her cold body go to flames. It felt unreal. Like a movie scene. Yet very raw. In the face. Standing less than10 feet away. The priest chanting the shlokas, the old uncle shaking from head to toe crying his guts out and the cousin holding onto to the uncle from collapsing. And as surreal as it may seem the person who laid down on the pyre was the same person you had your lunch with and went to gym together the earlier day! 

Never before did the fragility of this life seem more blatant. It was in my face. Like a 'Take That!' moment. I know several colleagues who revisited their insurance plans in the past 2 days. After all the friend we lost was supposed to have her new car delivered the same morning she had the fateful accident! Take that! Like death seemed to say to us optimists. Uncertain? Yes. Cruel? Oh yes.

And yet, like the sickening proverbial 'Show must go on.." we were back in our office formals the next day. Meetings lined up, sales figures drawn, excel sheets opened and made love with. The days were tactfully spent pushing back the thoughts of the lost one so as to have a productive working day. But its really hard to gulp down the lunch with an empty chair at the table.

Push away a thought. Pull back a memory. Linger on. Revisit good old times. Feel like a punch in the tummy. Shun that thought. Open a blank ppt. Forget what to type. Suddenly remember the last joke we cracked. Smile to self. Oh, will you concentrate on the ppt here? Just a thought. Now whom will I go to the gym with? Wonder a little. Scold self for the selfishness. All tugging of thoughts...and the mind seriously calling it a day.

You wish to cry but crying becomes an action/ function of a well identified emotion like grief or sadness and when numbness takes over, all emotions get jumbled into a big fuzz ball that the mind is better off not dealing with for the time being.

And then some time later, much later, after you have slept over the numbness a couple of times and the pain becomes more jaded and less sharper and you are just having a random conversation on a very different topic, something in you tells you it's time. To shed those tears that have been waiting for too long.You find yourself weeping mid-sentence and getting it out of your system. And indeed, good cry later you feel emotionally lighter.

You call an old friend you have been meaning to call for ages but hadn't. You talk to mom and dad (actually making 2 separate calls on their individual mobile phones.) Look up the calendar and plan a trip home. Hug someone. Eat an icecream. Cook some pasta. Sing aloud while doing so. Read some funny blogs and visit, re-visit and keep visiting here & here. And then you blog a little on this tiny blog of yours, post a post with Calvin & Hobbes title. Not because you want people to read you right away. But if you aren't there anymore some day...you don't want them to forget you.

Rest In Peace Dear Friend

20^th Feb, 2012 began like any other Monday morning. The reluctance to get out of the bed followed by getting ready while making a mental check-list of things to be done at work.

Little did we know it wasn’t just a regular every-day morning.

The news was told as soon as one stepped into the office. And that was it. Sealed with a grim confirmation. No space for doubts. Or even hope. She was gone. Just like that.

How do you say goodbye to a friend who leaves you suddenly?

How do you express that sharp sudden stab of shock, pain, horror and then grief and sadness? How do you deal with the sudden vacuum left behind?

The brain is a wonderful thing I tell you…the minute I heard the news, it went on a blank mode. I didn’t feel any pain or sadness. I even went thinking – What a lousy prank is this! She would come marching up to my seat any moment now and laugh out loud at this sick prank. The brain still thinks that’s precisely what’s going to happen.

The first time we met – she told me she hated MICAns. Can you believe her guts? And yet, she went on to become a good friend of mine. There must be something about her.

The first time I went to her place…she made me clean her house and do chores!!  [Of course, this is my version of the story! She claimed much khatirdaari!] and yet, I waited to be invited over again. There must be something about her.

She was more absent than present in the office. A hands-on field-work pro, was she; passionate about her brands and a fighter/striver to no end. We didn’t see each other for months at end. But whenever she was back, we made sure to grab our cups of coffee and warm that black couch for hours together.

We sailed the same boat. Our brand woes brought us together. We cribbed in unison. We laughed, we gossiped together. When one complained of a useless agency work, the other nodded with understanding. The lunches that extended up to an hour and the gym sessions that never quite managed to make it to one hour mark. Time spent together was time well cherished.   

There was a distinct streak of good spirit in her. I wish I could tell you what a fighter she was, in her personal and professional life. Stood by what she believed to be right. Firm and strong. And yet, she wasn’t all grown up with grown-up issues. She was a kid at heart. A devil, if you ask me. (Probably the reason why we got along so well!) She was naughty, dramatic and a certified ‘laugh out loud’-er.

How I wish I could tell myself and everyone else around that you are in a better place now. But I refuse to accept that!  You were happy here and would have never ever wanted to leave this place for a really long, long time!!  Can’t stop wondering why this had to happen.

To all those coffees that would never happen

To the black couch that would never heard your booming laughter again

To office gossips that would never be the same again

To lunches that will never stretch too long

To the office gym where I won’t see you again

To all those moments where we will now sigh and say, wish you were here now…

Will miss you my dear friend.

Difficult to Digest...

Reader's Digest. It was the ultimate reading delight while I was growing up. Like the Holy Grail of grown-up-ism that one wanted to achieve in their teens. A monthly magazine subscription with MY name on it!! And one that arrives in a very 'official' looking envelope - that was possibly the only mail I received in that age.

An RD issue - coming at a princely price of 38 rupees (subscription price, 42 rupees - stall price) was indeed a luxury for middle class families when I was in school. Silly how time changes quickly and one doesn't even bat an eyelid while ordering a veg burger in college canteen at a price twice that. 

But RD was good education and every good education comes at a heavy price - and so my parents spent hundreds on year-on-year subscriptions on what they thought was a wise investment for their bibliophile daughter. Little wonder, to this date, I have never thrown away any issue of RD (firsthand or other-wise) that I ever laid my hands on. It is a treasured possession in my book-shelf sitting proudly next to other literary classics.

RD opened up a whole new world and culture that was quite alien initially but welcoming nevertheless. If Enid Blyton took me to English countrysides with picnic baskets in hand and having tea and scones on lazy summer holidays...RD brought along a pragmatic outlook of the out-spoken American lifestyle. 

It was quite dizzying initially - there was crime, suspense, love stories, life crises and day-to-day humour. What made RD different, was the fact that all was very REAL! Nothing was left to imagination - those were stories that had happened to real people just like me - only sitting on the other side of the world. Also the fact that RD wasn't a children's magazine but one for a mature audience meant that it wasn't a watered down, over-simplified version of life stories.

To say that I wasn't up for a lot of rude shocks while reading RD would be an understatement. Especially the medical crises section - there was always this one story on a victim of a grave medical problem and his/her battle to stay alive. I still remember so many of them and especially unforgettable is Lee's Story. I still remember crying myself to bed that night on reading the story was a boy named Lee who was suffering from cystic fibrosis. His battle for a normal life against the fatal congenital condition gave me the glimpse of real life heroes at a very early age. What made it all the more poignant was the fact that the story was written by his mother. I guess I was in 7th std then and spent a sleepless week accepting the fragility of life.

I don't really remember when and how, but I stopped reading RD's. In a hurry to grow up I somehow forgot the one thing that really made me grow up. Today after all these years, I found the October issue of RD in a colleague's hand. Even without me asking for it, he offered me the copy. I guess the joy of meeting an old friend showed a bit too much on my face. But it felt like the friend had changed....45 advertisements in 180 pages!! Infact I stopped counting after 45 and there were still more to go. With dwindling readership, one can imagine the kind of firefighting that even a good content needs to put up to survive in print media these days...the media management major in me understands that. But a little girl whose first ever glimpses of real world around her were through the windows of Reader's Digest feels like shedding a tear.

I don't think one can quite put into words the relationship one shares with a good book. Great memories. Amazing life lessons. Learnings that go a long way into shaping the very you. How do ever say 'thank you' to a teacher like that? How do we share this feeling of gratitude towards perhaps one the best teachers in the world - a humble book? May be the answer lies in treasuring those lessons all your life and revisiting that old teacher that sits snugly on the book shelf, time and again. After all every teacher loves a student dropping by, once in a while, for a visit...

Adhoore Khwaab...

choti aankhen dekhe bade khwaab
mushkil sawaalon ke mange jawaab
khwaab dekhne par na thi pabandi
ziddi mann chahe unka hona puri

Of gyri and sulci...

So I read this article today and couldn't help but wonder if life does come easy for a blessed few? While the rest of us toil hard to face our share of hits and misses?
Picture this: A poster boy for shtudness aced through his school life cracking all the Maths & Physics Olympiads on his way. He could name all the moons of Jupiter and recite the period table in a single breathe. Ok, may be he sucked at Social Sciences but then he had real brains, which did not require cramming of useless data like the year of Battle of Plassey or the gory details of Third Battle of Panipat.

And of course he had dreams. Big Dreams. Astrophysicist or Nuclear Scientist. Stanford, MIT and Carnegie meant something to him even at that tender age of 17. He went on to crack the IIT Jee with a single digit AIR. Yes, the digit mattered. A LOT. Not to undermine his hard-work, he burnt midnight oil too..may be even went through short-lived phases of self-doubt and insecurities. But in the end that didn't matter coz he did make it Comp Science at IIT-B. Mom and dad couldn't be more happier and proud. He was the stuff that makes relatives hope their kids would turn into.

Fours years of IIT was a breeze or may be not. But as the guy here says - I generally only study one day before the exam; it is a habit with all IIT engineers. He studied for a day..may be even went through the ordeal of giving a whole of TWO mock-cats and viola! IIM A was pounding at his door.

No, I am not jealous. Ok, I am. Will this guy never get out of his Chronic Over-achiever Syndrome? Will reality never bite him? Where is struggle and that much talked about failure? Obviously he has managed to side-step this stepping stone to success and probably hopped, skipped and jumped on to the latter directly! Where is that depression after 12th? That phase of pain and helplessness to see mock-cat scores dipping and wondering if one will ever make it?

I do realize that such blessed men and women are quite a rarity. But where is the law of averages? Offers from McKenzies of the world probably awaits His Highness on the Day Zero of placements while the meeker folks throw furlong glances singing 'sabse peeche hum khade' to the companies on campus.

This world is such a cruel place. The geek shall and do rule the world. Replace the brains with beauty and the same if utilized efficiently can be an excellent cutting edge tool for success. One cant help wonder if the working definition of all men are equal is "Well, Not really".

Yes, I feel pathetic for myself at this point of time. The fact that I know quite a few guys like this does not help the cause. No fights between CTC and EMIs? These guys are so missing the fun! :| Sarcasm doesn't quite help alleviate this. But what the hell!

Sigh. I guess I am done hating people and the world in general, for the day.
If only one had enough gyri and sulci - the gray matter that matters!

Remind me NEVER to do this again!

You think this is the one. THE relationship of your life. After all 4 years is a huge amount of time to get to know someone. How conveniently one forgets that 4 years is a good amount of time for someone to change, as well. He promised me things would be just the same when I come back. He promised nothing would have changed. Yes, most of it is just the same, but he isn't the same anymore. 

Change is not always good, you know. It hurts. A lot. Sleepless nights, crying on your pillow, puffed eyes the next morning, that persistent headache and not to mention the gloom that killeth. Friends tell you to give up and move on...you nod to them while vigorously saying no in your mind. You try playing the eternal optimist telling yourself that this is just a phase and things will be back to normal very soon. but that never happens. You fear calling him but still hoping that he misses you just as much as you miss him each day. You wonder how long should you wait till you make that call? A week? Two weeks? You want to desperately call him and talk nothing but the stupidest of things like you used to. Crib about your job. Complain about your mother. Tell him how much you missed his stupidest jokes...and "oh-shit-I-totally-forgot I got nominated for the 'Best Salesperson of the Quarter' Award but didn't win. they gave it to some bimbette from Delhi office" You want to share the latest gossip on common friends..and gloat on how you did some completely unnecessary shopping last weekend. And you want to ramble on and on...and hear him smile on the other end of the phone. And then stop. Coz now it's supposed to be his turn to ramble and yours to smile across the phone.

Just that there is no phone call. coz he doesn't want to listen. He tells you after 4 years that he is tired of the talks. And he thinks that this isn't gonna work out and it's best to discontinue this. Discontinue?? Like a library membership? This is supposed to be a relationship you know..it is tough and you have to make it work. Nobody promised a cake-walk and you have to make a few compromises. But then how do you reply to a 'I don't see a future for us...' ? Leave alone replying, how does one face this statement?

Worse still...how does one pick up the pieces and face the world? How does one tell oneself that your favourite dream is shattered? You pretend you are okay. But you are not okay. You want to ask a million questions which can be quite simply put as 'It's not okay, you know. I thought we had a plan.And it wasn't that difficult a plan - I am with you, you are with me, right till eternity. Now, which part did you find so hard to get?'

Slowly the shock and temper subsides... and an enormous amount of guilt takes over. You blame yourself for everything. you run flashbacks of last 4 years..every phone call, every single date...and analyse what might have gone wrong. And you rest only after you have found a few million faults in you. Self-worth be damned!

And one find day just like today...you simply let him go. You cry your heart out. Blog about it for a remembrance sake and then you tell yourself that Enough is Enough!! All smses deleted and his number wiped out from the cellphone (not that it's gonna help) you wish your memory was just like your Nokia E71's. Suddenly a thought -  'Omg! This is soo 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!! ' And you smile for the first time at your own silly joke :)  

You think of him in a different light now...I could never stay mad at him for too long. 'Bless you dear in your new journey. Wish you a world of happiness. Yes, it kills me to not be part of that world with you..but then :|' It still hurts...but ranting it out helps. Blogs are purgatives for emotions. Thank you for listening. I think I will be ok :)