OLDIE!!!!!!!!

"So,what are your views about the Budget?", asked Manoj. I was shell shocked. He had just turned 25 (or 26 or 27, I have no idea) and had already lost it. I felt like replying, "thus machoo. kya banda." But I did not. The reason being very simple. I was in the very same situation a week back. A week back when I had my birthday, when I sat in the cozy, butt sucking couch of Yo China discussing my life with Manoj, discussing how MBA had been a bad decision, how marriage would be an even worse decision and how giving up everything and going back to the hills would be an awe-freaking-some idea.

I have to say things had changed. A year back, on the very same day, I had been planning on drinking the entire night and then doing something against the society (which I actually did - I had peed from my balcony). I had fun, I had a blast, I had lived my birthday.

This year it was totally different. I kept looking for ways to cheer myself up but couldn't find any. The birthday bumps did not hurt like they used to, the cake (which I myself bought for my surprise birthday party) had lost its chocolaty self and yes, I was getting birthday gifts. The last part was the most excruciating. Everybody (read: man, boy or simply masculine homo sapien) knows that getting a gift on your birthday only means 2 things:
1) You are a kid who may cry if you don't get a birthday present.
2) You are growing old and you need birthday presents to feel that you are still a part of the society.

The latter held true in my case. As people love to say, I was an OLDIE now. There are no words in the English literature that could describe the anger, the rage, the sadness, the humiliation I was going through. I just wanted to stop aging. Stay 23 for my entire life. I had hoped the same when I had turned 20: I wanted to be a teen my entire life. Our wants never turn into demand for that marketeer up there (please do not "place" anybody in the just mentioned company). What they say is true, there is a huge difference between the real life and the reel life. No Benjamin Buttons in this world of ours.

Happy Birthday Aashish Nag. You just lost 1 more precious year of your life. :(

Dreamers

"Help me Aashish, help me". The beautiful ear soothing voice echoed in the corridor. I had been following the voice for quite some time now but had not figured out who the girl was or where she was. I just knew she needed my help desperately. I looked in every room, every nook and corner of the corridor but all in despair. I was going to give up when I finally saw her. There she was, hanging from the roof of the building, barely. Her beautiful moist hands slipping ever so slowly, her gorgeous dark eyes shedding those diamond like tears, her voice breaking over the pain but still calling out just one name - Aashish. Not for long, I thought. Her 'Hero' was here to save her. I jumped the two floors like a pro circus performer. I grabbed her hand just as she let go (it was that close). The worst was behind us now. With the gladiator like strength I pulled her up, her eyes filling with gratitude with every small pull. She was saved and as she rested in my arms, I knew she was the one. "What's your name?", I asked. Her rosylicious(if its a word) lips parted and I heard the word.

"If sleeping is what you wish to do in the class, there is no need for you to come. Please leave." I was thrown out of the Macro economics class once again. I don't remember when I slept off and started day dreaming. But whatever, it was worth it. Though I must say, the name of the girl would have made it even better. I tried to remember her face. She resembled someone from my real life: a bit like the hot senior from NITH, a bit like my "TV n Radar" teacher, a major bit like the girl I was dating in school.

There was a smile on my face. These dreams always had this impact on me, so I never complained. I just wondered how many others out there do the same. I asked Adams about his views on this serious issue and I got the reply that I had expected. "Thus machoo. Kya banda hai?". So boring,so not imaginative. It was obvious that no one would actually confess that they day dream. They might be stating the facts but we will never know. What we know is that there is no harm in day dreaming. In this monotonous life of ours, we never get what we want. We may get close but we are never there. We keep struggling to reach out and grab those success milestones, always unaware that its an infinite path. A never ending vicious circle. Soon, desperation creeps in, frustrating us, eating up our insides hollow. The weak give up, the strong keep fighting and the wise DREAM ON.

"Aashish, Help me".

Anna Kranti

From the very early days of my life, I have watched the videos of revolutions in different parts of the world and wondered. Wondered what makes these people come to streets, what motivates them to fight for a cause, what inspires them to sacrifice everything for their country. Well, I found my answers today.

At 10 am today when my friend (Anshul Gautam) asked me if I wanted to go to the rally, I said yes. To be very frank, I wasnt sure if I would go. I had a tedious job of shifting the room at hand. But finally I decided that this is my chance of doing something for my country which I always dreamt of. We reached New Delhi Metro Station at around 2 30 pm. The scene inside the station was unbelievable. Chants like 'Vande Mataram', 'Inquilab Zindabad' , 'Anna Zindabad' echoed everywhere. People had tricolors on their faces, around their necks and their heads proudly showed off the "MAIN ANNA HOON" caps. Scenes at the Ram Leela Maidan were even more astonishing. 50 60 thousand people sitting , chanting , listening to the various leaders whilst watching ANNA sit in the background. Volunteers from children to elderly giving bananas and water to all those gathered. No one was paying them, they just wanted to.

India Gate was even more drowned in Tri-Color. I cant even tell a number as to how many people were there, lacs maybe. The Maha Rally started when Kiran Bedi arrived. The entire rally was a humbling experience for me. The power of people was on display on the streets of Delhi. Chants like "Sonia jiski mummy hai, wo sarkar nikammi hai" and "gali ka kutta kaisa ho, Kapil Sibbal jaisa ho" gave vent to the feelings of the common man. Be it kids, senior citizens, women, physically handicapped, everybody was rallying. Of course, the media men were present and as Indians we tend to dance even better when a camera is on us. As we had to come back to Ghaziabad we did not enter the Ram Leela Ground, rather came back straight away.

I have no idea what lies in the future. Whether the bill will get passed or not, whether the govt accepts all demands or not. All I know is that during the entire day, I had to drink water and eat a banana in regular intervals to beat the heat, when a man, a warrior, an Indian was sitting in the ground without food, with a smile on his face. The respect automatically seeps in. As the chants would say, "Anna tum sangharsh karo, hum tumhare sath hain".

MAIN ANNA HOON.

India Shining... Really?????

Its 1940s all over again. The analogy is obvious. Just hope the result turns out to be exactly the same. The Indian Govt has crossed all barriers of shamelessness. Its time we the people of India cross all boundaries to fight this autocratic rule.
From the time I came to my senses, I have respected the Congress for the knowledgeable leaders the party has. Manmohan Singh, P Chitambram, Rahul Gandhi, Kapil Sibbal, Pranab Mukherjee to name a few. All of them experts in their field of study. All of them contributors to the formation of the Shining India. It was probably the only reason I considered Congress better than BJP.
But the events that have unfolded in the last 1 year or so have just shambled this respect. Scam is like a synonym of the govt right now. Every govt has corrupt ministers. But defending them, keeping mum when it comes to acting against them, stating that they are not guilty in front of all proven facts, pathetic!
Even more shocking has been the treatment given to those who have raised their voices against corruption. When Anna Hazare fasted for the 1st time, the "knowledgeable" govt double crossed him by making false promises for the much talked about Lokpal Bill. Baba Ramdev followed in Anna's footsteps and he was shown what the govt is actually capable of. Shamed, terrorized and humiliated in front of the entire nation. And finally the incidents that took place today. Arresting Anna and then acting innocent as if they were unaware of what was happening. Are we some kind of fools that we dont get what is happening?
May be we are. Only fools allow such acts of injustice to repeat again and again. If we stay silent now, we will be forced to stay silent our entire lives. Our freedom of speech is under threat. Its high time we come out of the shells of selfishness and do something for the nation. Support Anna, in whatever way possible. In these dark times, he is the only torch bearer.

ACT NOW OR ELSE FOREVER BE SLAVES.

ये प्यार की शुरुआत थी

पलकें नम , लबों पर आस थी
चैन कम, मिलने की प्यास थी
वक़्त थमा, चुप सी ये रात थी
जली शमा, ये प्यार की शुरुआत थी

दिल दहका, रुत ये रंगीन थी
मन बहका, वो इतनी हसीन थी
दिन खिला, शर्मा रही कायानात थी
हमराही मिला, ये प्यार की शुरुआत थी

दीदार हुआ, हया की भरमार थी
इज़हार हुआ, ना कोई टकरार थी
डरी बहकी, वो पहली मुलाकात थी
चहकी चहकी, ये प्यार की शुरुआत थी

मतवाला अहसास, बातों में कमी थी
लम्हा वो खास, साँसें यूँ थमी थी
सहमी नज़र, कुछ निराली बात थी
क्या थी खबर, ये प्यार की शुरुआत थी.

MBA Freakshow

So IMT Ghaziabad it is. 1 year of "hardwork" has paid dividends. But at what cost? No, this is not just a statement. Really, at what cost? 23 lacks to be very close.

Now the big question looming large in everybody's mind - why is Aashish Nag joining IMT when he can get much better? (By everybody, I don't mean the entire world and I am not making a point that everybody is concerned about me. By everybody I just mean the small bunch which is actually concerned). Now the much anticipated answer. I may get much better but can I? Probably not. Lack of dedication and too much indulgence in trivial stuff (chatting, CS, parties) makes me say a total no no to trying again. Call me pessimist, but I am just being very practical. Plus I hate my job.

Moving on to the next big problem. IMT being the amazing college it is, amazingly asks the students to choose their specialization before the 1st class. Now how the eff are we to know what is good for us. On one hand, Yes, I am good at maths; yes, I am fascinated by economic terms - shares, money, 'assets'; yes, I love excel. But is this enough to specialize in Finance. On the other hand, my friends say I am made for Marketing. That's it. I have no idea why they say so. I am uncomfortable talking to strangers, hopelessly bad in GDs & zero negotiating skills. But whatever. My friends know better. In addition to all this, Marketing is the flagship course of IMT. But again, 180 seats for Marketing & 120 for Finance.

Now, how in a sane world, can any sane man decide from the above information, which specialization is better. But insanity has always been my "repelling trait". Lets analyze.

Do I want to sit in front of the PC all day working with numbers on excel? ---- Yeah!! What's the big deal.

Do I want to go out, meet people, strategize and show off my PR skills? ----
Yeah!! Must be interesting.

Do I want to run away to the mountains and spend my life there?-----
Hell Yeah!!!!

Now if there is any sane man/woman who can help me take this very difficult decision, please leave a message. For all others who are in a fix after reading this piece, enjoy this song..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkOnv2XtsPw


Peace.. \m/

So like Shimla

My visits to Shimla, though once in a blue moon, always end up on a learning curve. So the last weekend I was in Shimla , I ended up realizing the subtle characteristics of the place that separates it from the rest of the world, placing it on a higher turf than the rest (no exaggeration). So before I enlighten all you ignorant non shimlites about this awesomely beautiful place, a very important message. The Volvo travel to Shimla & back is highly over-rated. No hot chicks, no sitting comfort, no movies on the TV, no nothing. Haryana roadways gets my vote here.

So, I am in the volvo which has just reached the Shimla Bus Stand. I get down the bus and find myself engulfed by a dozen guys (khan bhais) shouting "Hotel sir Hotel Hotel, Hotel". I tell them that I have a house here. They start again "Taxi sir Taxi Taxi, Taxi". I tell them that my house is a walking distance from the ISBT n there they are again "Coolie sir Coolie Coolie,Coolie". So like SHIMLA. I ignore them and reach home. After a sound sleep of 3 4 hours, I go out to meet my parents who are enjoying the Sun with my neighbors. I am like an even brighter sun, not only to my parents, but to my neighbors also. My neighbor to me "Arey kitna bada ho gaya hai GENU, main Promil didi (my mother) ko keh hi rahi thi ki Genu ke bagair mohalla kitna soona soona lagta hai". This after I spent my entire adolescence fighting with her on behalf of my mother on the very petty reason of Clothes' Hanging space. She goes on to say that I am an inspiration to her children and all other kids in the locality. This compassion, So like SHIMLA.

I reach my new house in New Shimla and spend the entire evening sleeping. The next day I am off shopping. I buy a new pair of shoes. The shop keeper gives a 20% discount just because my dad talked to him in "kangri". (The guy was from Kangra too). Such regionalism & favoritism, So like SHIMLA. I go to the mall next. I love the place. So many memories attached to the place. On the scandal point, I find 3 guys beating the hell out of a poor mal-nutritioned soul. Their shouting makes it very clear that they are from the land of the "khadoos". The police stop the fight. 1 slap on their faces was enough to cool them down. On further negotiation, they confess that the guy they were beating is their Cousin. Such innocent khadus, So like SHIMLA.

When I am on the mall, I have to have the Burger at City Point. I go to the shop and the guy at the counter gives a smile to me. I realize that he is the very same guy who has been working here for the past 3 4 years. He asks " Bhaiya, Veg Burger laga doon?" Before I could say anything, he continues "aapke dost bhi aa rahe honge. kitne lagaun ? 3 ya 4?". I am awe struck. The Social liking, So like SHIMLA. I tell him that I am all alone. I eat my Burger and come back home. 3 days have passed and its time to go back. I reach the Bus Stand, get my luggage loaded and enter the bus. Before I can even reach my seat, I find at least 20 familiar faces staring at me. I greet all of them. Some old school friends, some known acquaintances, some long lost cousins and many hot chicks, who I have seen roaming on the mall. A small world, So like SHIMLA.

The usual happens next. I sit on my seat with no intention of going back. But I can do nothing. My throat is choking, a sinking feeling sets in, there is water in my eyes. This love, this nostalgia, its So like SHIMLA.

The 3 Stages of Intestine/Stomach Infection

Its the same old feeling of disgust. Lying on the bed, shivering even with a blanket on, loss of appetite, fever, weakness, life could not be any more pathetic. The saddest part being that this happens to me every other month. So what is Stomach/Intestine Infection? How does it occur? What are its preventive measure, its symptoms, its cure? Today I am going to enlighten everybody about this deadly trash of an illness.

Stage 1 : The Gourmet
It all starts with the "paapi pet". You are out malling, checking out the hot chicks, making fun of the 'porus' with those hot chicks when suddenly you come across a shop named DOMINOS. The unstoppable urge of diving into the cheese burst is alone enough to take you inside. And when you come out again after an hour, its like returning from heaven. There is nothing better than a double cheese burst dominos pizza. You come back home, miss dinner and sleep.

Stage 2 : Vomiting
The sleep is marred with nightmares. You have no idea what is going on. Suddenly you wake up and realize that it is the uneasy feeling in the stomach that is ruining your night. The condition deteriorates as you go deep into the night. Your misery ends when you are finally forced to go to the toilet to vomit. The first round of puking is hellish. Pain in the chest is intolerable. All you can say is "oo God, please no more!". But this is God's way of having a gala time.. You puke everything you ate the entire day. You start feeling good. The uneasy feeling goes away. You come back and lie down again. The worse is yet to come though. You start shivering. Fever sets in. The entire body is weak, crumbling.

Stage 3 : ORS rehabilitation

You wake up the next day as shit. Your friends are mocking your eating habits, giving tips to get well alongside though. You ask your maid to make 'khichdee' for you, ask your friend to bring ORS packets for you, ask God to forgive you for your sins. The khichdee eating is ruthless, so is drinking ORS every 5 minutes. But that is what you can do.. Your friends go a step further. They order dominos pizza and sheepishly make jokes about you not able to eat. The consequence is that you end up eating 1 slice. Half an hour later, you are feeling good again. No more weakness, no more fever. The only question that comes to mind is "What Happened?"... The valid answer is Dominos... There is this famous proverb "loha lohe ko kaatta hai, zeher zeher ko marta hai". This means dominos hi dominos ko theek karta hai...

The vicious circle goes on.....

Money Talks

Its that time of the year again, when, willingly or unwillingly, everybody talks MONEY. The mornings start with prayers asking the mighty one to bless you with more money (health takes a secondary slot for once) and ends with you lying on your bed scrutinizing your bank statements. The workplace is the discussion ground about new policies, taxes, slabs, interests, medical bills, HRA, inflation, budget and probably everything a commerce student studies in his 11th class. Such is the fanaticism that even the girls talk about money saving. Its that time of the year again, its March, its the end of the financial year.

The only people who make merry at this economically energy sapping time are the financial companies. Financial companies - a generic term for every institution linked to money; insurance companies, banks, investment banks, all partners in crime. A survey has shown that the maximum number of ULIP, SIP and other such schemes are launched during the last quarter. The time when the common man (me) is at his vulnerable best as far as the greenery is concerned.

In a country where the Rajas, the Kalmadis are stashing crores of rupees in foreign accounts fearlessly with no one to stop them, the common man acts like an absolute idiot. Producing genuine medical bills for the medical reimbursement, genuine LTA proof for LTA reimbursement, a proper HRA slip with just the slightest of manipulation. And after all this, sleeping in fear or rather getting insomniac due to the nightmares. What a dumb dud a common man is. But the fact of the matter is that this is how the life processes. The poor (a common middle class man in this case) is always squeezed and the honorary citizens (Rajas & Kalmadis) enjoy that squeeze.

But we are Indians. We have a billion Socratic population who dwell in the pools of ethics and principles just because our culture says so. But when it comes to individual mindset, each and everybody knows that ethics and principles do not stand a chance in this mean cut throat world. Amongst these, all those who are able to break the cultural shackles are able to rise in life and they go down in history as Legends (Rajas & Kalmadis).
The rest remain gagged in the bonds of ideals and are commonly known as Common Men.

Reality Check : the Corporate way

His heart was pounding faster than an Alstom AGV, his brain busy in the permutations and combination, his eyes searching for the faintest clue there could be, Ram Lal was in a well of tension. The HR from Alstom had the list of candidates placed in his hand. He started announcing the names starting from Mechanical followed by Electrical & ECE. Ram had his fingers crossed throughout. His name was announced second to last. The leap of victory finally. His Michael Schumacher impersonation showing off his delight. Alstom transport calling.What conspired next was the least he expected.

Reality Check No. 1:

Corporate life always appealed to him. He often dreamt of how life would be at Alstom in Noida with his 'peers'. The first few months were nothing less than awesome. Stay at a 4 star hotel with other GETs, 'mastee' all the time, classes, bunks, it seemed like college all over again. On the day of department allocation, he was least worried. "Alstom transport calling", he kept repeating. But not to be. He was sent to PAC Power on account that Transport dept was full. A kick in the nuts it seemed.

Reality Check No. 2:

Power Automation & Controls (PAC) had a jovial feel about it. Friendly faces, smiles all around. Work seemed to be a synonym for fun. Ram was given the project management profile. Good he thought, maybe MBA is what is in his fate. During the orientation, he was told about the various projects he would be a part of, directly and indirectly. With a victorious feel in his mind, he waited for his first project to begin, directly or indirectly. But not to be. He was free (on the bench in IT) for 6 months.

Reality Check No. 3:

After a wait of about 7 months, Ram was told that he was now the PM (Project Manager for you engineers to comply) of a small but highly demanding project. He prepared himself for the challenge: burnt midnight oil learning the processes, clarified his queries through his peers, made a special folder in his mail with the Project Name. He was all ready to go to his first meeting to Baroda for the Kick Off of the Project. But not to be. He was told that he was new and did not know the processes, so the initial phase would be handled by the 'old' PM and later Ram would pitch in.

Reality Check No. 4:

Ram had gradually 'pitched in' the project. Looking after all the activities. Interfacing between various departments, suppliers and the client. His Boss was delighted, impressed actually with his work. Along with management, Ram was now asked to look after Planning, a major aspect of the department. He knew he was getting the importance, the recognition he deserved, the appropriate work, both in quality and quantity. But not to be. What he did not realize was that he was just being fed before the cruel slaughter. Soon a PM resigned and his 3 projects were assigned to Ram. Game over. Initially he tried, actually performed well looking after all the projects. But eventually it was too much for him. Projects went haywire, chaos and confusion was what followed. Ram became insomniac, high BP was his new achievement. Finally he gave in to the pressure.

Ram Lal was a good man.

ये आँखें कुछ बयान करती है

My first shot at poem writing..


ये आँखें कुछ बयान करती हैं
चहकती है मज़ाक करती है
बहकती है प्यार करती है
महकती है आहें भरती है
ये आँखें कुछ बयान करती है

बिन बोले बात करती है
मधुशाला का काम करती है
जादुई जाल बुनती है
नशीला सा समा चुनती है
ये आँखें कुछ बयान करती है

शरारती है बदतमीज़ी करती है
भोली है यूँ ही फिसलती है
तेज़ है शिकार करती है
पलकें झपका के इज़हार करती है
ये आँखें कुछ बयान करती है

मोती सी बूँदों का स्रोत बनती है
दुखी है चमक कायम रखती है
सिसकियाँ ले रोने लगती है
आँसू है अंजानी बनती है
ये आँखें कुछ बयान करती है

Open for suggestions.

So close, YET......................

"Show me the Financial Summary for the last quarter", said the PD in his usual German accent. Ram Lal was up for it. He had thoroughly prepared his reports and that showed in the praise he got at the end of the review. In spite of all the eulogizing, Ram was not thrilled. He had received an SMS 30 minutes back and the message was titillating his mind. The list for Admissions to IMI had been released. Ram was sure he would make the list but that tiny hint of a doubt had led to countless sleepless nights for him. He opened the website and entered his ID and waited... The wait was endless. And when it finally ended, the entire world crashed in front of him. He missed the cut by 1 mark. Heart break for him. 6 months of struggle turned futile. His throat choked and a sinking feeling set in.

"AGAIN?". The only word that blocked his thoughts that night. He remembered the day he had finally decided to start preparing for MBA entrance exams. It was August and Ram Lal had just finished with Number Systems. The only thing he could talk of was the divisibility tests and how he had made short cuts for the ever so hated numbers(13, 17, 19). If ever he stopped talking about the numbers, newly learnt words used to become the topic of scrutiny. This went on for 3 months when finally he had the exam. The exam wasn't up to his expectations but he was satisfied. Two more exams soon followed, one of which went pretty awesome.

Now all the results were out and he had cleared none of them. When such trends take surface, a guy should go through a phase of retrospection & introspection and move on. But Ram wasn't ready for this phase right now. He was devastated. He had missed all the lists by a very small margin. He kept cursing every related thing. His bad luck, the examination process, the marking schemes, the education policy in the country, the love affair between Shane Warne and Liz Hurley, absolutely nothing escaped his wrath..

New ideas popped up in his mind. Ram now wanted to be an IAS officer or XEn in state electricity board. The very brilliant idea of Going back to his hometown and opening a Coaching Center also crossed his mind. None of these actually took face though. He got busy in his present job and for once forgot about his future. This was the time when he finally lived his life to the fullest. A life changing revelation hit him. All his worries about his future, his results had made him a boring creature just passing his days. Everything had become monotonous, so robotic. He now knew what he wanted to do in his life. He could so clearly see his future now, so bright, so clear, so full of happiness.

10 years later, Ram Lal sat in his Cholla Bhatura shop in his hometown expertly counting his day's income. He was the most famous cholla wala of the place and was respected in the region like God. Every father wanted to marry his daughter to him. Life could not have been any better. He had lost all hope some years back when he dint make it to a college.. All he blabbered then was "So close Yet so far" (haath ko aaya , mooh na laga). Today, sitting in the balcony of his bungalow, he laughed thinking of those idiotic days. "What a fool Ram Lal was".