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".

SACHIN aayla re..

Sadness is a cloud which has engulfed my world recently. Everything has been foggy with nothing to look forward to. To be very blunt, hopeless. But when everything is gloomy, hell let loose, evil everywhere, the horizons turned black, GOD comes to save the day. (This line was the English translation of the very famous hymn - यदा यदा हि धर्मास्या..)



And that is what happened last week.. Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar came and scored his 50th test ton. It may be just another milestone for him, but for us mortals it was like a 2nd Diwali. I am not lying when I tell you that I had taken a day off from office just to watch him play. (Though a term called "hangover" was also a reason).. As he reached his 80's, I was joined by all my roommates. It was not helping my already bad condition of High BP. But that day I dint mind a bit of adrenaline rush. He hit Harris for a 6 at 89. It was inevitable that we started dancing.. Adams was still skeptical and kept telling that "ye 99 par out na ho jae". But my heart knew that today was his day. A drive through the covers took him to the magical figure.. Our house turned into a super sound box.. There was shouting , hugging, dancing, singing and some crying. I mean I am not sure if I would be this happy even when I get a fms call or even convert it (my dream).



Such is the effect of the MASTER on our lives. With a career stretching over 20 years, he has become a part of our mundane. How can a person who can puppet the emotions of a billion people not be the GOD. I am short of words when it comes to describing SRT. As many have already said, I feel proud to be living in the era of SACHIN... I for one would certainly stop watching cricket once he goes. Just hope he wins the WC (which he fully deserves) before that.

Long live the GOD - SACHIN TENDULKAR.

Out of my mind

Days are passing as if they are in some kind of a hurry.. No fucking idea to how to slow them down.. A few days back I turned 23. It was a great feeling. But come to think of it, I feel a little low now. This period has not been too good for me.. I mean I have lost all hope.. Its like someone is sucking life from inside my body and I cant do anything about it... I have lost the freedom I had come to love, enjoy, savor all these years.. The claustrophobia is at its apex... My fingers keep trembling continuously. My mind is always wandering away to someplace else.. The place where every thing is perfect. But not to be... Strangely, I am not insomniac.. But the nightmares are a plenty now.. I see deaths, people I love being killed... Its terrifying.. But I have no control over them.. I feel so powerless right now..
I always loved being in control of things, making others do stuff my way.. I loved being a leader, a captain.. The thrill of getting appreciated for a group's good work or otherwise facing harsh criticism was the driving force of my life.. I loved the challenge, the struggle, the eulogies, the derogatory slangs... There was something new at every turn of life and that made the journey ever so smooth.
This is not the case anymore... Everything is so dull, so turtle like around me... The challenges are still there but no motivation at all.. I have lost people who I love, people who I care about.. And the sad part is that nobody can fill the voids these people have left behind...
I am out of sorts, out of my mind maybe..

kahan chali gai hai saali khushi????

I am just trying not to write another one of those depressing gloomy blogs that I have fallen into a habit of writing. Immensely difficult though. Its very simple to explain actually. A blog is my personal journal which is of course very public. The kind of person I am, its only when I am sad and feeling lonely, that I come here to write. In that state one cant expect me to fill the space with my usually Super Awesome Sense of Humor. Expecting such stuff is just asking a lot from a guy who is already preoccupied by very important stuff like Facebook and gtalk.
Its a hard life managing everything. Talking to my girl friend, knowing that I pissed her off yesterday and now I have to mend what I did. Tiring both mentally and "tongue-ly". I know when she reads this I am dead. But what the heck, I will woo her over again. Add to that the regular chatting with old friends, listen to their story, LOLing after every 3 lines, add a comment myself and then finding a way to end it. Tiring mentally (again) and physically (fingers and eyes). Now add to this the chats with GIRLS. Abso-freaking-lutely gruesome. You need some serious talent for this part and I have enough of it at my possession. For instance, I wont write "HAHAHA" when a girl tells me that she loves me. Nor would I try to run away from a girl when she has asked me to meet her up at the mall.. Guys who have done such stuff keep SEEKING SOLACE in kumar sanu songs.
So what i mean is that after exercising my brain, my body so extensively for the above mentioned activities, I by no means am in a state of writing a humorous blog or even crack a joke for that matter. These pessimistic blogs are now a part of my life (just like hearing comments on his height is a part of a close friend's life). I can just try and be more innovative in expressing my pain, my untapped temper, my frustration on being less fortunate than others as far as good luck is concerned. But again, its comparatively better than being a color blind.
On the basis of age and experience, I might be miles behind my friends, but one thing I am very sure about. I am never going to write a cheerful blog again. KAHAN CHALI GAI HAI SAALI KHUSHI????
Sad, suicidal melancholies is my taste when it comes to writing and I feel so proud in making others a part of it. Someone has stated correctly - "dukh baantnein se kam hota hai". I am just distributing my half of the dukh, in my own unique legendary way of course.