Sometimes, you always miss somebody so much that missing him becomes a forgotten conclusion…
Ani and I are waiting to be taken to school. I must be in 2nd grade and he in Sr. KG. Ravi mama holds our hands and off we go. Through fields, barren lands lined with huge rocks beside the salt pan… this was a shortcut to St Augustine’ High we took everyday.
On the way, he tells us stories; and shows us ‘mugran’ on the way. ‘Mugran’ is the term he created for shit left behind on the fields by people early in the morning…
In the evening, after he returns from work, he plays with us. Sometimes, whenever mom suffered from her ulcers, he cooks, cleans the overhead tank, and looks after mom!
He was like a brother to her and an awesome uncle to us. Though, he is no more a part of our lives anymore, Ani and I cannot forget him.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
Childhood memories - 2
Citizen Kane – one of the best movies ever made…
Ranjit and his brother have just got a new tricycle… one with bells and good cushion seats. My brother in the back seat of our sad, old tricycle looks at me with “why don’t we have such a cycle” look?
We ask our mother, and she tells us never to sit on their cycle and never to ask for a new one. Miserable, we watch them pedal happily across the common verandah and ringing the cycle bell only when they reach near our door!
We race every evening on the verandah and most of the times, the new tricycle wins because of its smooth rubber wheels. My brother and I resign to our khatara metal junk.
Then, that very summer vacation, just when we had gotten over the tricycle trauma, their uncle came from the ‘gelf’ with a wonderful, yellow toy helicopter, walking penguins, racing cars, and lots of other goodies…
Among them, my eyes fell on a metallic model toy train. Complete with tracks, signals, tunnels, and railway stations. My first lust...
I don’t know about my brother; I still wait for my rosebud.
Ranjit and his brother have just got a new tricycle… one with bells and good cushion seats. My brother in the back seat of our sad, old tricycle looks at me with “why don’t we have such a cycle” look?
We ask our mother, and she tells us never to sit on their cycle and never to ask for a new one. Miserable, we watch them pedal happily across the common verandah and ringing the cycle bell only when they reach near our door!
We race every evening on the verandah and most of the times, the new tricycle wins because of its smooth rubber wheels. My brother and I resign to our khatara metal junk.
Then, that very summer vacation, just when we had gotten over the tricycle trauma, their uncle came from the ‘gelf’ with a wonderful, yellow toy helicopter, walking penguins, racing cars, and lots of other goodies…
Among them, my eyes fell on a metallic model toy train. Complete with tracks, signals, tunnels, and railway stations. My first lust...
I don’t know about my brother; I still wait for my rosebud.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Childhood memories - 1
I am not feeling well... and besides, many of you wanted me to write again. So here goes...
This blog may be taking an inward turn here onwards. A journey, which you may want to read at your own risk because in my childhood you may come across yours.
Parts of me died: a child died; parts that may never be reborn. Why did the child inside me die?
Let me go in to some memories that I still have of that glorious period:
It's 5pm on a random evening at Master building, our chawl. The primary roots of the tree of life.
On the wall-less terrace, all my neighbours’ kids and my brother are waiting for Soni chechi to return from school. She has afternoon school; you know, she is in 5th grade!
We did this everyday. Most of the days, she came on time. Some days, she came later than usual.
She is the pack leader and the alpha female! We never play anything till she arrives. It was she who decides which game we play, who tells stories first when there is a power breakdown, who is in which team… and who gets what punishment for cheating… she even decides ‘time please’ for all of us!
We play till the sun set. Some days, while waiting for her, I watch the sun set from my knees to my feet.
When she is late, I cry… few others cry too.
We shifted from Master building when I was in third grade, which means this memory is old. And, I have never met Soni chechi again. I do not think I will recognize her if I ever see her again…
But why do I still remember those evenings:
Some random memories, like random dreams, arrive randomly. But few, like recurring dreams, recur randomly.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Just two words...
"Have you reviewed these queries? I don’t think the first one is worth Tom’s time. I just requested you to send a consolidated list of screenshots that you require. And now you are asking for additional screenshots in query 2. "
This is an e-mail from an ass-ociate VP... Tom, the person mentioned in the mail, is the client. the mail is addressed to me in response to a query doc that i mailed.
Man, this ass has the balls to decide which query is worth the client's time. who is he to decide this?
and the second query in the doc does not ask for screen shots from the client; it asks whether we need to include some content... i guess, people who manage work should only 'manage' work. not try to work and decide things for people who really get the work done.
and the ass' e-mail does not even basic e-mail etiquette; i am sure he must have been through tonnes of training on e-mail etiquette and communication skills...
but, what's the point? he does not understand that the only way to keep external customers happy is to value your internal customers. This is the BIG point that most of the corner office white ass-lickers conveniently forget.
by the time, they learn the lesson, it may be too late.
For the tens reading this, for the thousands who go through this, and for the millions who relate to this, i have just two words for this ass: "Suck it!"
This is an e-mail from an ass-ociate VP... Tom, the person mentioned in the mail, is the client. the mail is addressed to me in response to a query doc that i mailed.
Man, this ass has the balls to decide which query is worth the client's time. who is he to decide this?
and the second query in the doc does not ask for screen shots from the client; it asks whether we need to include some content... i guess, people who manage work should only 'manage' work. not try to work and decide things for people who really get the work done.
and the ass' e-mail does not even basic e-mail etiquette; i am sure he must have been through tonnes of training on e-mail etiquette and communication skills...
but, what's the point? he does not understand that the only way to keep external customers happy is to value your internal customers. This is the BIG point that most of the corner office white ass-lickers conveniently forget.
by the time, they learn the lesson, it may be too late.
For the tens reading this, for the thousands who go through this, and for the millions who relate to this, i have just two words for this ass: "Suck it!"
Thursday, February 08, 2007
An Obituary to Osho
Osho, my first dog, passed away at around 8.30pm last Saturday (February 3, 2007). He died of Gastro just after his third dose of antibiotics and saline.
I saw his eyes still and fixed, his mouth open… and it took me few minutes to drown the realization in. He had departed to where he came from. We wept uncontrollably.
Swati, Baby, and I came home from the vet’s clinic after he had clinically declared him dead. We came home and buried him under a Hibiscus plant in the corner of a garden in our compound.
Every morning, I watch his grave covered with Hibiscus flowers fallen over it.
Osho had first come into my arms on February 20 this year. Just 13 days before he passed away. As the clock struck midnight, at the steps of Chaturshringi Temple, the breeder had handed over to me my first pet, Osho.
Then, he was 35—odd days old. He was so happy and excited to see me. And baby was so scared; she was afraid to even hold the crate!
I still remember his tilted face, his anticipation when I warmed his feed in hot water. I still remember how he learned everything so fast… how soon he knew that Baby was afraid of him and therefore, how alert he always used to be with her around.
How he used to run with a slanting angle… and how he barked when he heard me at the door when I came in the afternoons from work to feed him!
I still remember him standing with one of his front legs up in the air while all the other three rested on the floor.
How he always slept the way I did: with his head either on my forearm or the pillow. How he used to sneeze…
In just 13 days, I had become a father: cleaning shit, wiping face after every meal, putting him to sleep, bathing him, changing newspapers, cleaning the floor after he does his duties…
And now he is no more. His pictures and his memories will keep him alive. I don’t know whether he has reborn as a dog or in any other form. I hope he has.
I hope that the Hibiscus plant above his grave never stops flowering. Let it blossom for Osho and let the flowers fall from the sky for as long as it can.
My Osho, wherever you are: R.I.P.
I saw his eyes still and fixed, his mouth open… and it took me few minutes to drown the realization in. He had departed to where he came from. We wept uncontrollably.
Swati, Baby, and I came home from the vet’s clinic after he had clinically declared him dead. We came home and buried him under a Hibiscus plant in the corner of a garden in our compound.
Every morning, I watch his grave covered with Hibiscus flowers fallen over it.
Osho had first come into my arms on February 20 this year. Just 13 days before he passed away. As the clock struck midnight, at the steps of Chaturshringi Temple, the breeder had handed over to me my first pet, Osho.
Then, he was 35—odd days old. He was so happy and excited to see me. And baby was so scared; she was afraid to even hold the crate!
I still remember his tilted face, his anticipation when I warmed his feed in hot water. I still remember how he learned everything so fast… how soon he knew that Baby was afraid of him and therefore, how alert he always used to be with her around.
How he used to run with a slanting angle… and how he barked when he heard me at the door when I came in the afternoons from work to feed him!
I still remember him standing with one of his front legs up in the air while all the other three rested on the floor.
How he always slept the way I did: with his head either on my forearm or the pillow. How he used to sneeze…
In just 13 days, I had become a father: cleaning shit, wiping face after every meal, putting him to sleep, bathing him, changing newspapers, cleaning the floor after he does his duties…
And now he is no more. His pictures and his memories will keep him alive. I don’t know whether he has reborn as a dog or in any other form. I hope he has.
I hope that the Hibiscus plant above his grave never stops flowering. Let it blossom for Osho and let the flowers fall from the sky for as long as it can.
My Osho, wherever you are: R.I.P.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Truth's more than you think
Written in response to a corporate e-mail sent by a big MNC:
That was such a brag of a mail full of corporate shit… can they send a mail saying what innovations have they given to the world? Pre-industrial revolution, great men, inventors, and thinkers gave the world directly whatever they had to offer. There were no fucking patents, no bonds, no “employees”.
As I see it, the corporate-world has killed individualistic thinking in the name of teamwork. All for the few bigger assess who earn all the profits… a few whiz kids get up on top and the remaining average workers are made to grind their assess off…
I mean, I want to know how much actual expenses are going to R&D by all corporations and how much time does it take for these innovations and inventions to come out.
Why don’t we still see an electric car? A solar powered world? Desalination plants? More windmills? I’ll tell you why. Vested interests.
Every corporate when its down or just started out desires free trade… but when it becomes a behemoth, it wants only a monopoly! Why?
Man, it all boils to profits. And GS in the mail has changed the perspective very well: all the NY employees together earn more than the CEO and the Vice CEO put together! Ha! Man, I was looking at it the other way: how much do those two asses make?
I hate unequal distribution of work. I am not a communist. I am neither a capitalist because humans were not made for working in companies. We were made to do/ make/ dream things together… the way like-minded individuals do and did.
Why don’t we see a single Leonardo da Vinci or a van Gogh or an Einstein working for any of the biggies? I bet you won’t too. Unless corporates start producing genius genes and start using them like they showed in the matrix! I am sure this will happen! “Corporate-adoption,” they will call it. In the name of this is very good for everybody, the society. They will have separate schools and specialized training et al! ready-to-use products for the CEOs who will play golf and have dinners and shit!
Hahah!
How I hate the world that corporates have made it into?
That was such a brag of a mail full of corporate shit… can they send a mail saying what innovations have they given to the world? Pre-industrial revolution, great men, inventors, and thinkers gave the world directly whatever they had to offer. There were no fucking patents, no bonds, no “employees”.
As I see it, the corporate-world has killed individualistic thinking in the name of teamwork. All for the few bigger assess who earn all the profits… a few whiz kids get up on top and the remaining average workers are made to grind their assess off…
I mean, I want to know how much actual expenses are going to R&D by all corporations and how much time does it take for these innovations and inventions to come out.
Why don’t we still see an electric car? A solar powered world? Desalination plants? More windmills? I’ll tell you why. Vested interests.
Every corporate when its down or just started out desires free trade… but when it becomes a behemoth, it wants only a monopoly! Why?
Man, it all boils to profits. And GS in the mail has changed the perspective very well: all the NY employees together earn more than the CEO and the Vice CEO put together! Ha! Man, I was looking at it the other way: how much do those two asses make?
I hate unequal distribution of work. I am not a communist. I am neither a capitalist because humans were not made for working in companies. We were made to do/ make/ dream things together… the way like-minded individuals do and did.
Why don’t we see a single Leonardo da Vinci or a van Gogh or an Einstein working for any of the biggies? I bet you won’t too. Unless corporates start producing genius genes and start using them like they showed in the matrix! I am sure this will happen! “Corporate-adoption,” they will call it. In the name of this is very good for everybody, the society. They will have separate schools and specialized training et al! ready-to-use products for the CEOs who will play golf and have dinners and shit!
Hahah!
How I hate the world that corporates have made it into?
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