Stumped! That's exactly what I felt today. There are times when you think you are doing a great job of something when you are brought down with a thud. Here I was, telling a friend how different a person I am for the world. 'I am another person altogether you see. People think I am extremely reserved and talk only when required,' I said. This notion is actually wrong - if I talked only when required, then I would not have blabbered these to her in the first place.
Anyways, I completed many sentences on these lines and waited for her reply - as if she would feel privileged to know that she exists in that select group of people and thank me profusely for that. Well, she did none of it. She did what a good friend would have done - put me to my place. So, as I was waiting to hear some neat words, she replied - "Yeah yeah.. i know that side of you! for me it was the first 3 months of knowing you."
Stumped off a wide ball, you can say.
Needless to say, she's a great friend and a perfect case-study for 'time is not an indicator of friendship'. She might not know what exactly I work on and I definitely don't know her sister's name. But we are definitely at ease when we talk and that is what matters. I would assume she is among the more patient people I know. She bears me - and an equally irritating friend she came to know through me - with a smiling face and a uncreased heart. She was very excited to tell me that she is preparing rotis at home these days. "My new roommate has got one," she said. Obviously I knew that by 'one' she meant the ubiquitous thing in the Indian kitchen - the chakla-belan. But I, feigning ignorance that was never there, asked - "Got one what? Roti-maker?" :D
No matter what she might have thought about me in the first three months, I am sure now she knows that there can hardly be a more pestering person she's going to meet in her lifetime. But I have not faced any such change of mind with her. She smiled when I knew her first, she smiles when I trouble her now. And this, among other things, has always bowled me over each time I think about it.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
What else?
I call it the WES - 'What Else Syndrome'. (Ok, honestly I don't call it that - just felt that this might be a good opening sentence for this piece.)
Surely not something that has been discussed much, but this has been keeping me on thoughts for quite sometime now. I remember, when in school or college, I used to have a lot of friends. 'Friends' has been used in the loose sense of the term, because I am in touch with or think about barely a few of them now. And, as we know, real friends are for life. Anyways, with these friends would pass almost each day during and after classes. I remember our house was the hub of meetings during weekends and vacations - even in evenings. The point I am trying to make is whenever we met, in groups of anything from 2 to 12, we would always make a boisterous group - and the portion of discussions on serious topics started cropping up with age. But never, and I mean without exception, did it happen that we would sit idle or think about what to talk about.
Years on, now it's a different story altogether. I get to spend time with people who I am sure are very good friends. Its still fun of the highest degree when we are together - still in groups of anything from 2 to 12. But keeping the jokes, banter and laughter aside - there is very little that we talk. I mean, no discussions - only incidents. I was there, he did that, you know what happened, etc. But once these dry out - there is not much else. (This is not always apparent because we are more than capable of going on with the frivolousness for days on end. I talk to one of my friends over chat almost everyday - and we just keep laughing recycling around 50-odd funny incidents in our stock.)
This is more evident when there is a one-on-one meeting with my friends, either in person, over phone or on chat. No one has anything to discuss other than updates on the happenings. No music, sports or other interests discussed at all. A typical chat even with one of my closest friends would go like this -
I: Hi
He: Hello, what's up?
I: Not much, you say.
He: Going on..
I: Ok...
He: What else?
I: Nothing much, just the usual.
He: O, ok.
I: So, what else?
...
There is something seriously wrong. Is it with growing up? Is it with the so-called maturity or responsibilities? Is it something with our profession? Or is it something with me - do you find my feeling like this just an isolated observation? Let me know.
Surely not something that has been discussed much, but this has been keeping me on thoughts for quite sometime now. I remember, when in school or college, I used to have a lot of friends. 'Friends' has been used in the loose sense of the term, because I am in touch with or think about barely a few of them now. And, as we know, real friends are for life. Anyways, with these friends would pass almost each day during and after classes. I remember our house was the hub of meetings during weekends and vacations - even in evenings. The point I am trying to make is whenever we met, in groups of anything from 2 to 12, we would always make a boisterous group - and the portion of discussions on serious topics started cropping up with age. But never, and I mean without exception, did it happen that we would sit idle or think about what to talk about.
Years on, now it's a different story altogether. I get to spend time with people who I am sure are very good friends. Its still fun of the highest degree when we are together - still in groups of anything from 2 to 12. But keeping the jokes, banter and laughter aside - there is very little that we talk. I mean, no discussions - only incidents. I was there, he did that, you know what happened, etc. But once these dry out - there is not much else. (This is not always apparent because we are more than capable of going on with the frivolousness for days on end. I talk to one of my friends over chat almost everyday - and we just keep laughing recycling around 50-odd funny incidents in our stock.)
This is more evident when there is a one-on-one meeting with my friends, either in person, over phone or on chat. No one has anything to discuss other than updates on the happenings. No music, sports or other interests discussed at all. A typical chat even with one of my closest friends would go like this -
I: Hi
He: Hello, what's up?
I: Not much, you say.
He: Going on..
I: Ok...
He: What else?
I: Nothing much, just the usual.
He: O, ok.
I: So, what else?
...
There is something seriously wrong. Is it with growing up? Is it with the so-called maturity or responsibilities? Is it something with our profession? Or is it something with me - do you find my feeling like this just an isolated observation? Let me know.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Simple Questions, But What Answers!
Whether it is an urge to talk more, or to show that we are witty, even to unwantedly display our knowledge - sometimes we really talk more than what is needed. Believe me, there are people who - if you ask them about what they are wearing - might end up telling you why Lalu Prasad is the best manager in the world. Time and again it is proved that there is a hidden Basanti in most of us.
There was this boy in my class, back in the school days. The instructions would clearly say - State whether the following statements are TRUE or FALSE. And he would go on to explain why a given statement was false. Worse, he would substantiate what was true and also mention what could have made it a false statement. So, for a question, asking whether rice would get cooked faster in a pressure cooker, there would also be an assertion that it would take more time in Darjeeling.
I keep hearing about this person in a friend's office - who is dreaded by the whole lot in the floor for his verbal assault. It is just a coincidence that his initials are AK and the postfix 47 was but a natural inclusion. Someone asked him the directions from point A to point B. And when that same friend came to my place after office that day, it took me some time to grasp why he was telling me the route to point B from at least twenty places in Hyderabad.
As always, there is a reason why I am writing this now. Of late I have heard a couple of weird answers to a very common question asked in any restaurant. Here is how two cool souls fared in bringing out their best in a seemingly commonplace situation -
Act 1
Waiter: Regular or bottled water for you Madam?
Madam (surprisingly, too cool for her 40+ years): Aquaguard water would do for me.
Act 2
Waiter: Regular or bottled water Sir?
Sir (cool, and cooler in the company of his female companions): What water do you use for cooking stuff here?
Waiter: smiles, looking confused.
Sir: I said, what water do you use for cooking?
Waiter: Regular water, sir.
Sir: So, get us that! (Turns towards his giggling companions and shrugs)
What can you tell in a situation like this? Laugh? Get angry? Or smile away? For me, on each of these occasions, the broth was not the only thing boiling in the restaurant after that. But let's not end on this vitriolic note. I just remembered something amusing in the same context which would be a fitting end to this tale. We had just settled down to eat that day. One of my very good friends thought he was going to be asked to place the order when the waiter came over and asked the same question about our preference for the water. It was too late to change the pre-meditated answer he had framed in his mind. And so, he replied - "Please give us some time, we will discuss and let you know."
I just asked her where she got her dress
Now Britannica will sell one copy less.
There was this boy in my class, back in the school days. The instructions would clearly say - State whether the following statements are TRUE or FALSE. And he would go on to explain why a given statement was false. Worse, he would substantiate what was true and also mention what could have made it a false statement. So, for a question, asking whether rice would get cooked faster in a pressure cooker, there would also be an assertion that it would take more time in Darjeeling.
I keep hearing about this person in a friend's office - who is dreaded by the whole lot in the floor for his verbal assault. It is just a coincidence that his initials are AK and the postfix 47 was but a natural inclusion. Someone asked him the directions from point A to point B. And when that same friend came to my place after office that day, it took me some time to grasp why he was telling me the route to point B from at least twenty places in Hyderabad.
As always, there is a reason why I am writing this now. Of late I have heard a couple of weird answers to a very common question asked in any restaurant. Here is how two cool souls fared in bringing out their best in a seemingly commonplace situation -
Act 1
Waiter: Regular or bottled water for you Madam?
Madam (surprisingly, too cool for her 40+ years): Aquaguard water would do for me.
Act 2
Waiter: Regular or bottled water Sir?
Sir (cool, and cooler in the company of his female companions): What water do you use for cooking stuff here?
Waiter: smiles, looking confused.
Sir: I said, what water do you use for cooking?
Waiter: Regular water, sir.
Sir: So, get us that! (Turns towards his giggling companions and shrugs)
What can you tell in a situation like this? Laugh? Get angry? Or smile away? For me, on each of these occasions, the broth was not the only thing boiling in the restaurant after that. But let's not end on this vitriolic note. I just remembered something amusing in the same context which would be a fitting end to this tale. We had just settled down to eat that day. One of my very good friends thought he was going to be asked to place the order when the waiter came over and asked the same question about our preference for the water. It was too late to change the pre-meditated answer he had framed in his mind. And so, he replied - "Please give us some time, we will discuss and let you know."
I just asked her where she got her dress
Now Britannica will sell one copy less.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Brutal - Merciless Viv
Adding three short videos for quick viewing. How many batsmen can say they have scored 16 runs like these in their careers?
Incredible six off Imran.
A six and a four. If you were the bowler, you would have ducked as well.
This is what Richie Benaud says about the 'most quelling sight for any bowler'
The best in the business.
Incredible six off Imran.
A six and a four. If you were the bowler, you would have ducked as well.
This is what Richie Benaud says about the 'most quelling sight for any bowler'
The best in the business.
Monday, November 19, 2007
What was it?
One of the poorest jokes that somehow manages to bring out some laugh runs like this - "There was this really absent-minded person who suddenly dies. After some investigation, it was found that he forgot to inhale after exhaling." Though this might be the unattainable height of forgetfulness, what we still manage to do is also no easy task.
Imagine this - I called a friend who was about to leave for the airport and was in a hurry. After talking for sometime, she started sounding very tense and restless. It went on increasing when I was forced to ask if something was wrong. Her reply had me - and when she understood, her as well - in splits. What she had told me was, "I am not getting my mobile phone. Where did I keep it?" No wonder that whoever is out with her keeps gathering her mobile, wallet and other things from a gamut of unimaginable places. (Ever imagined that the door-key had to retrieved - just because she came home carrying some eggs - from the refrigerator?)
I also remember my father looking for his glasses - it's in him not to tell what he is not getting unless asked repeatedly - all around the house in vain. We could not fault him much - how could he find them if he was looking through them?
Like any other human behaviour, I am sure much research and studies have gone into tracing absent-mindedness to its roots. But what is the point? We will still keep forgetting. For example, when I started this post I had something interesting in my mind which is totally out of mind at present. I do not want to keep this draft for later since I am sure I am not going to recall what I was thinking. So pasting this anyways, however incomplete and incoherent it might read.
P.S. - I tried recollecting what I had actually intended to write for 10 minutes before publishing this post. But the only thing that I vaguely remember is that I thought of writing this post this morning as soon as I put the brush on the side-table and started stroking my shoe with my mobile phone.
Imagine this - I called a friend who was about to leave for the airport and was in a hurry. After talking for sometime, she started sounding very tense and restless. It went on increasing when I was forced to ask if something was wrong. Her reply had me - and when she understood, her as well - in splits. What she had told me was, "I am not getting my mobile phone. Where did I keep it?" No wonder that whoever is out with her keeps gathering her mobile, wallet and other things from a gamut of unimaginable places. (Ever imagined that the door-key had to retrieved - just because she came home carrying some eggs - from the refrigerator?)
I also remember my father looking for his glasses - it's in him not to tell what he is not getting unless asked repeatedly - all around the house in vain. We could not fault him much - how could he find them if he was looking through them?
Like any other human behaviour, I am sure much research and studies have gone into tracing absent-mindedness to its roots. But what is the point? We will still keep forgetting. For example, when I started this post I had something interesting in my mind which is totally out of mind at present. I do not want to keep this draft for later since I am sure I am not going to recall what I was thinking. So pasting this anyways, however incomplete and incoherent it might read.
P.S. - I tried recollecting what I had actually intended to write for 10 minutes before publishing this post. But the only thing that I vaguely remember is that I thought of writing this post this morning as soon as I put the brush on the side-table and started stroking my shoe with my mobile phone.
Friday, November 16, 2007
The Tangent off the Spiral
It's that time again - and I have never spared much of a thought when it came to changing jobs. Not this time though.
One of the reasons for this can be that I have spent most of my career at this job (2.5 out of 4 years) and it has grown on me. Another reason could be that there is nothing really new or exciting in my next profile (which was not the case in each of my earlier shifts) that would keep me hooked on to the prospects ahead. And so, when now I know that the days are among the last few here, I am back doing something I love to hate - looking back.
When I came to Hyderabad in May 2005, it was as much of a change of place as it was a change of profile. All my colleagues in Chennai, where I was before this, who were from this city concurred that Hyderabad is the most happening place in India. And they brought out before me the experiences of their lifetimes in the city (which ranged from 'the roads are fully covered with pamphlets in Ameerpet' to 'the biggest Cafe Coffee Day outlet is out there'). "Not quite" - I thought, as I walked in a feverish daze (105 degrees) under a blazing sun (45 degrees) the next weekend looking for an accommodation.
"Quite alright" - I say now after knowing the city well enough to help settle any newcomer. And why not? I have made friends here who are as good as the ones I made anywhere else. When you have friends (and not colleagues and acquaintances) in and outside office, it does not really matter whether you are working in Manhattan or Mangalore. If I were to give an account of our escapades here, it would surely need a series of posts. I am not even trying to summarise them here - let it be for some other time.
At the end of it all, the reason why it evokes the mixed feelings is the fact that the association has imitated life to a great extent. It could well have been the story of someone in a rich and famous family - living with your siblings and cousins and reared by loving parents and scheming relatives. There is love as much as there is hatred, but then no one owes anything to anyone. And the feelings are always mutual. No big news when a gamut of emotions silently co-exist. No big news when someone walks out of the house one day. The attention gets more than divided among the new members of the ever-expanding family. And for the one who is making the new beginning, adjustment is just another extra life-process like breathing.
Nothing changes and nothing clutters your mind. Unless you sit down to think.
"I opened my eyes to glamour and sheen
Then closed; and wiped them clean."
One of the reasons for this can be that I have spent most of my career at this job (2.5 out of 4 years) and it has grown on me. Another reason could be that there is nothing really new or exciting in my next profile (which was not the case in each of my earlier shifts) that would keep me hooked on to the prospects ahead. And so, when now I know that the days are among the last few here, I am back doing something I love to hate - looking back.
When I came to Hyderabad in May 2005, it was as much of a change of place as it was a change of profile. All my colleagues in Chennai, where I was before this, who were from this city concurred that Hyderabad is the most happening place in India. And they brought out before me the experiences of their lifetimes in the city (which ranged from 'the roads are fully covered with pamphlets in Ameerpet' to 'the biggest Cafe Coffee Day outlet is out there'). "Not quite" - I thought, as I walked in a feverish daze (105 degrees) under a blazing sun (45 degrees) the next weekend looking for an accommodation.
"Quite alright" - I say now after knowing the city well enough to help settle any newcomer. And why not? I have made friends here who are as good as the ones I made anywhere else. When you have friends (and not colleagues and acquaintances) in and outside office, it does not really matter whether you are working in Manhattan or Mangalore. If I were to give an account of our escapades here, it would surely need a series of posts. I am not even trying to summarise them here - let it be for some other time.
At the end of it all, the reason why it evokes the mixed feelings is the fact that the association has imitated life to a great extent. It could well have been the story of someone in a rich and famous family - living with your siblings and cousins and reared by loving parents and scheming relatives. There is love as much as there is hatred, but then no one owes anything to anyone. And the feelings are always mutual. No big news when a gamut of emotions silently co-exist. No big news when someone walks out of the house one day. The attention gets more than divided among the new members of the ever-expanding family. And for the one who is making the new beginning, adjustment is just another extra life-process like breathing.
Nothing changes and nothing clutters your mind. Unless you sit down to think.
"I opened my eyes to glamour and sheen
Then closed; and wiped them clean."
Friday, November 2, 2007
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