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.