Anecdotes...

An Apology to the Dearest One....

2012-03-29T11:04:00.002-07:00

I waited all night for that only call,
Gazing at the phone, looking at the wall,
Every second past by thinking the next one would be,
You didn't call and I couldn't be as I used to be.

You're a princess and I'm a Popper,
Still we are meant to be together,
I tried so hard to fight with my devil,
And lost as many as I did,
At last you didn't call and still no sleep.

I know I hurt you sometimes with words so unkind,
Ungratefully and Regretfully I'm the one reason for all this regression.
I'm as bad as good I could be,
You didn't call and yet I kept thinking about the night so crazy,

I don't know if I match upto you,
I don't know if I'm the One for you,
I don't know if I ever comprehend you,
I don't know if I say "Sorry" makes-up to you,
But I know, that my heart never lies,
You didn't call and yet I love the way you love me..

Vicissitudes of Life..

2012-03-29T11:03:00.000-07:00

Life has it's twist and turn,
Educated but unemployed,
Money but No fun,
Friend's yet no 'someone',
Food yet No apetitie,
Power yet no security,
Disease but no ailment,
And we say we are God's chosen one.

Money tells a man's identity,
Irrespective of the past in the backyard,
Money provides dignity,
Irregardless of how cunning is he,
Money makes a man loved,
Despite how heartless is he,
Money is the truth of this century.

We smile when Sachin scores a century,
But don't care about a dying neighbour,
We curse the politics for the poor state of affair,
And we say we are proud of being an Indian,
We point out other's mistake,
Yet don't accept our's.

We love being hypocrites,
Hate being criticized,
We think we are unique and knowledgeable,
Still we blame God for our mishaps for our own action.
We pretend to be secular,
But inside we know we aren't,
Yet, we don't stop the blame game.

Get hold of oneself and loose hold on others,
Get an idea of right in the wrong and identify the wrong seemingly right.
Embrace yourself for the big fight,
Coz Life happens once in a life-time.

LOVE DEFINED

2012-03-29T10:36:00.002-07:00

Love is nothing but a passion,
So sturdy and pure,
That’s nurtured and shared despite not being near,
All test it endures irrespective of the hardship it bear.

What is love but a power.
To bring the mighty to cower,
With the courage to pull down the mountain,
And standstills times’ endless fountain.

What is love but a Concord,
A magnificent goal conquered,
The merging of two soul and heart,
A bond that cannot be ripped apart.

What is love but a champion,
To pull down the tyrant to the floor,
And raise the flag of friendship and peace,
And cease the fear of death and disease.

What is love but a bonfire,
To guide the shillyshallied heart,
A blazing light on the shore,
To refuge from the enemies roar.

What is love but endless,
Eternal and Bliss,
A flame that outlives the darkness of night,
And makes life illuminating bright.

So let me tell you from the highest mountain,
That no reason is strong to bend my love for thee,
And I promise not to break in the toughest turf.

DEDCATED TO MY BELOVED...

Sleeping with the BUGS

2011-05-13T11:26:00.000-07:00

(A short account of my experience with Bed Bugs)

They sneak in without INVITATION.

We welcomed them without INTENTION.

The beginning of our sleep DEPRIVATION.

They were too FEW,

How many they SCREW?

There population GREW.

They lay their PLOT,

To suck my BLOOD,

Ready for a Good night FUCK.

Home was for REST,

It was time for our BLOOD TEST,

Leads to Life’s biggest UNREST.

Itching, twitching, scratching as they GO,

Blaming the mosquitoes, you KNOW.

Blood FLOWS and Body SLOWS.

Down from the feet up till the WAIST,

Even the personal parts were CHASED.

All our energy put to WASTE.

“All-out”, was the immediate CARE,

To check the bugs but all in DESPAIR.

Our Body needed a Bad REPAIR.

One after another they come, so GRUESOME,

Smashing some & burning the rest for FUN.

3 AM and utter CONFUSION.

Not even half is DEAD,

We lay on our BED.

The Floor colored in RED.

The sun ends the ESCAPADE,

Saving us from the brutal RAPE,

Next Day full of GAPE..

Md. Azharuddin Khan

On a Monday

2011-04-01T10:45:00.000-07:00

On a Monday

Monday comes and the fear of work takes it turn,

The moment you log in, the mails never stops flowing,

Replying to some and deleting the one which was just for fun,

Running to the toilet to wash the sleep, no other choice, I believe.

Returning to work station to continue the work,

Outlook and excel obstruct, to make life disrupt,

Dreaming of the desired job, you are in a nap,

Boss pass-by and your good colleague claps.

Time pass-by filled with humdrum,

Time for lunch, the cafeteria food so gruesome,

Gobbled some and leave the rest to dump,

Full of tension; the work invites more confusion.

Time to catch up to pull your act up,

Agility sets in to complete the abstract.

You scrape and managed to take a break,

Sigh of relief when your boss compliments your stake.

Hurrying to catch the bus and not missing anything "must",

The journey continues thru every day just like today.

Home greets you with a different set of problems,

Life teaches living despite all nonsense.

By: Md. Azharuddin Khan

LIAR, LIAR, LIAR…

2011-02-08T09:14:00.000-08:00

LIAR, LIAR, LIAR…

I wasn’t married until now, I wasn’t a father until now, I wasn’t a Liar until now.
A story- saleable, the biggest lie ineffable, a tale - untold, a memory – infallible, a bank- unbearable, an employee- culpable….

The above sentence seems to be senseless unless related in the context. Let me not play with words any further but to divulge the biggest secret of an honest liar.

CHARACTERS

Md. Azharuddin Khan - The honest Liar

The BIGG BOSS - The HOD, marketing & sales – Middle-aged, heavily accented speaker and a strict task-master.

(A very difficult person to get along with, he has more foes than friends. The BAAP of the marketing & sales division)

The Wife - Who never exist

The child - Who was never born

The roommates - The support unit

The friends - My savior

PART 1 – THE GENESIS

An aspiring MBA graduate landed in a Bank’s job who had committed to himself not to sell financial products but ended being in the business. But I kept the promise by not selling what was ought to be sold. A sudden rush to popularity and expectation surrounds me in my new work-place. After striving 4 months on the job, I was seeking some refreshment.

The day my roommates were leaving for their native was the day which marks the beginning of the biggest lie ever told. I was sad because my buddies will be away for a couple of weeks and I will have no one to share my every day’s misery. One of my buddy told me that why don’t I come along with them. Since they knew I was really pissed off with life & work and needed a break badly.

I wonder how on earth is that ever going to be possible. Since I’m new to the work and no leave will be granted for at least 6 months. An idea clicked (though not a very innovative one but often it works), how about using my grandfather’s life, which was lost some 20 years ago, as an excuse for a short vacation. I’M SORRY GRANDPA… The call to manager in a melancholic tone did the trick and was granted leave for some days. Woops, I was off to KOLKATA…

PART-2 – BACK TO MUMBAI

It was always pathetic to come back leaving the comfort of home. But did I ever have a choice. I was in no mood to go to work and face the same nasty people who had made life miserable apparently. The news was my immediate boss is on “Mandatory Leave” (MANDY- as they call here which they think is “COOL”). I tried to take advantage of the situation and remain mostly at home since I had no one to report to. The frustration & rage was gradually piling on since I had no clue where my career was headed. A peek into Facebook was even frustrating when you find your batch mates doing wonderful. This continued until the day the Call from THE BIGG BOSS happened.

PART-3- THE TELECON WITH THE BIGG BOSS

Azhar: Hello, Good morning Sir.

BIGG BOSS: Where have you been? Why are you not reporting to work?

Azhar : Ummmmm….Oh…..Sir, I’m going through an extremely bad patch in Life. I’m not able to get over it.

BIGG BOSS: What’s the matter? Even I lost my Grandfather but I was over it in a couple of days.

These things happen in Life. It’s not a valid reason to display unprofessional behavior. I will ruin your career. You are trying to act smart with me.

Azhar: Sir, It’s not about my Grandfather’s demise. But the event which happened subsequent to the death of my Grandpa is the cause of my condition.

(My spontaneity was at work. I was trying to make random stories)

I STARTED CRYING OVER THE PHONE (without any reason) TO SAVE MY ARSE

BIGG BOSS: (Now calm) Azhar, until you tell us, how we will be able to help you. Come and meet me right now and let’s discuss.

Azhar: OK, Sir.. I will be there in an hour. Thanks for being so supportive.

PART 4- THE GENESIS OF THE IDEA

I knew I was screwed unless I’m able to convince the BOSS about my condition (which was never there). I had to discuss this with my roommate. He took it light-heartedly and said “Bol de teri Girlfriend ki Shaadi hone wali hai”… BANG. First, it appeared to be childish & illogical. But this could really be my contraceptive if I’m able to prove my Love for the Girlfriend who never was. I got dressed and ready to leave for a meeting which could divide my life in two half. The entire journey was spent planning on what to say, how to say, when to say, how much to say, when to stop, my life if I’m busted. Man, I have never ever done something so freaky in Life. The conclusion was that I had no clue of what’s going to happen in the next one hour. I may just chicken out.

PART 5- THE MEETING

BIGG BOSS cabin: “Knock, knock”

Azhar: May I come in, Sir? (Sweat was dripping down my arse)

BIGG BOSS: Come in, how are you now? Are you comfortable speaking here? Or shall we go out?

Azhar: Outside would be better, Sir.

(We ended in the nearby Ice-cream stall)

BIGG BOSS: So tell me Azhar what’s bothering you?

Azhar: Sir, I’m really not sure whether I should say what I’m gonna to. But I trust you. I don’t know where to start from… Well…… (Should I or should I not… FUCK, Do I have any choice. )

------------------------------THE FICTIONAL STORY-------------------------------------

Sir, I was in a serious relationship with this Girl who I met in Bangalore. I spent 3 years in a live-in relationship with her. Now, she is getting married. Her brother got to know about “us”. And he forced her to leave Bangalore and get married ASAP.

BIGG BOSS: Really sad to know that. But you could have eloped? Why care for the world if you genuinely loved each other?

Azhar: Sir, it happened without any notice and I didn’t have the time to take any action.

BIGG BOSS: Where is she now?

Azhar: I don’t know. But she got married two days back. The problem was that she is a Brahmin and

nothing on earth could convince her parents to see “us” together.

BIGG BOSS: So what now?

Azhar: I have no clue. I don’t know what to do. I’m going insane.

BIGG BOSS: I certainly understand your state of mind. And Our Company would go to any extent to see if you are comfortable & recovering. But this cannot justify your behavior towards work. Everyone goes through personal issues but you should not mix it with professional life.

(I knew I was failure in convincing him and he was certainly suspicious of my story. I had to do better to save my already sweaty arse)

Azhar: Sir, there is something more to it.

BIGG BOSS: What now?

(After a long pause)

Azhar: I also got a KID.

His reaction was such that he just saw Osama and Obama shaking hands.

BIGG BOSS: What are you talking? How did this happen? How can you be so dumb? Didn’t you use precaution?

Poor Azhar: (I was digging my own grave)…. This happened during our live-in thing. No, I was foolish not to take any precautions.

BIGG BOSS: You could have got it aborted?

(Right question, why the FUCK didn’t strike me)

Azhar: We could have. But she developed some gynecological complication and I didn’t want to risk any surgery and stuff. It was too late by then. (DID I really say it.. Yes, I did.. FUCK lies are piling on)

BIGG BOSS: Man, what are you going to do now? Where is the Kid?

Azhar: I really don’t know. My Kid is in Bangalore in my friend’s custody.

BIGG BOSS: Whaaaaaaaaaat your friend is raising your kid? I have never heard of any friend who will go to such an extent to help another friend. He is a real gentleman.

Azhar: Sir, I have some really trustworthy & loyal friends.

BIGG BOSS: Is it a Girl or a boy?

Azhar: Boy

BIGG BOSS: How old is he?

Azhar: (After a quick math): Approx. 2 years

BIGG BOSS: What’s his name?

Azhar: Sir, Shadab (Who is a family friend of mine. After he got to know it, jokingly, he passed comments on my ability to produce someone like him)

BIGG BOSS: Do you want to raise your kid the way you were bought up?

Azhar: Certainly Sir, but I don’t know how?

BIGG BOSS: After understanding your situation I feel the only person who could help you at this hour is your parents. Have you spoken with them?

Azhar: No Sir, I don’t have the guts to confront my parents after what I did.

BIGG BOSS: “Do din marege, do din gali dege, (They will yell at you). But when they see your kid they will be happy to see their first grandson”..

Azhar: Are you sure Sir, that I should do it.

(My balls was almost in my throat)

BIGG BOSS: Yes, Azhar. You will find peace. Why don’t you leave for your home town tonight & relate it to your parents. Just drop a call & tell them that you want to speak something important.

Azhar: Sir, if you are saying so then I must. I got very little choice.

BIGG BOSS: If you want we can also transfer you to Bangalore where you can be with your kid.

(GOD, not again. Bangalore has been really kind with me. I don’t want to pitch financial products in Malls & kiosk in Bangalore again. I need serenity not another city. )

Azhar: Sir, I think it’s better if I speak with my parents first. So I shall leave for Kolkata today itself.

BIGG BOSS: Right, but speak with your parents before you leave. If you want you can use my system to book your tickets.

THE BIGGEST SHOCK WAS YET TO COME

------------------------------------DEATH-BELL RINGS------------------------------------

BIGG BOSS: Why don’t you call your mom now? Tell her that you are coming.

(I knew he is trying his entire people management skill to validate the story. For a moment the world stopped moving rather I stopped responding to the environment. The thought of telling my mother about something like this was the last thing I ever wanted to do or say, living or dead)

Azhar: Sir, I will call her little later.

BIGG BOSS: No, do it now. I want to see that everything is fine before you leave.

(My instinct failed to work any longer, my mind was bogged and I was losing my ability to think. I froze my ground, managing a fake nervous smile was what I could do the least). I regained strength & pulled the f*****g phone out of my pocket.

Azhar: (On the phone) Hello Mommy.

Mom: How are you son? You generally don’t call at this time. Is everything fine?

Azhar: Yes, I’m coming home tonight. I want to talk to you and papa about something important.

(DEEPER SHIT, Now the BIGG BOSS wants to speak with mom)

Azhar (Whispering to BIGG BOSS): Please, don’t tell her anything about the matter. She will not be able to absorb the shock over the phone. I will speak with her once I’m home.

BIGG BOSS: (On the phone) : “Namaste main “@#$@#$%” bol raha hu, Azhar ka manager. Azhar bahut pareshan hai. Use aap logon se kuch baat karna hai. Please uska problem shamajhiye. Zyada gussa mat kariyega. Galti sabhi se hoti hai.

(Hello, I’m “@#$@#$%”, Azhar’s manager. Azhar is very worried. He wants to tell you something very important. Please, try to understand his problem. Please don’t get mad at him. Everyone makes mistakes. )

Mom: (Misunderstood him for a friend of mine) “Aap mere bête jaise ho. Bataiye kya baat hai” . (You’re like my son. Please tell me what’s the matter? ).

BIGG BOSS: “Main 35 saal ka hu aur main Azhar ka manager hu”. Talk to Azhar. (I’m 35 years old and I’m Azhar’s manager).

Azhar: “Mummy main aapko wapas call karta hoon aur sab kuch shamjhata hoon. Sab kuch thik ho jayega.”

(Mummy, I will call you back and explain everything. Don’t worry everything will be fine.) Call disconnected.

BIGG BOSS: Ok, Azhar. Leave asap and call me once you have spoken with your parents. In case required, let me speak with your mom once you’re home.

Azhar: Thanks a lot Sir; I shall remain indebted to you. END

Part 6- The After-Life

Mom repeatedly kept calling. I had to call her back and explain. But what? Enough was enough. Further lies could be fatal. I took the bold step to confess it to my mom.

----------------------------------THE CONFESSION CALL---------------------------------

Azhar: Mummy, pareshna mat ho. Waisi koi baat nahi hai. Main yeh job chorne mang raha tha. Par mera manager mujhe bahut zyada pasand karta hai aur mujhe chorne nahi de raha hai. Us liye mujhe jhooth bolna para. Aur ek jhooth se dusra jhooth aur main phas gaya.

(Mummy, don’t worry. There is nothing to be concerned about. I wanted to quit this job but my manager is very fond of me and he is insisting on not letting me go. That’s why I have to lie. And the lies kept piling.)

Mommy: Par tumne aisa kya bola, ki woh bahut pareshan ho gaya.

(But what did you tell him. He sounded so worried.)

Azhar: Mujhe kuch shamajh nahi aa raha tha. Maine use bola ki meri girlfriend mujhe chor kar chali gayi hai aur mera ek baccha hai use.

(I didn’t knew what to say. So I told him that my girlfriend has left me and I have got a kid from her.)

Mommy: Tumhe duniya mein aur koi jhooth nahi mila. Yeh bahut galat baat hai. Mujhe tum par shuru se shak tha jab Danish (my cousin who used to live with me when I was in Bangalore) ne mujhe kuch is tarah bataya tha.

(You could have told him anything else in the world but this. This is very wrong. I was always suspicious about you when Danish had told me something to do with your girlfriend)

(“DANISH TU MARA”).

(DANISH, YOU'RE DEAD)

Azhar: Nahi mummy Danish Mazak kar raha tha. Aisi koi baat nahi hai.

(No mom, Danish was just kidding. There is nothing of the sort. )

Please mummy, mujhe maaf kar dijiye. Main bahut sharminda hoon. Main aap se jhooth nahi bolna chahata tha. Us liye maine sab kuch aap ko bata diya.

(Please mom, forgive me. I’m very embarrassed of my act. I didn’t want to lie to you. So I told you the truth.)

Mommy : Accha thik hai. Agar tum galti kar hi diye ho aur sharminda ho. To ab kya kar sakte hai. Ainda kabhi aisa kuch sunna nahi chahiye.

(OK, IF you have already made a mistake, nothing much could be done. I don’t want to hear anything like this in future)

Azhar: Thank you mom. I will call you in the evening. Call Ends.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now the big question is that my manager wants me to go to Kolkata and talk to my parents. And I have an interview to attend in the next couple of days. Also, the BIGG BOSS was scheduled to go to Bangalore the next week for a visit. He may ask to meet my friend & see my son (who wasn’t even conceived).

The entire evening was spent on planning how to cover up the lies & not go back home. Finally, I gave up thinking and left it on my fate to decide.

Part 7- The next morning

It was 8 a.m. I couldn’t get much sleep. I woke up early. My frequency of smokes has touched a new height in the last one day. I had to do some “Jugaad" (arrangement) in the next few hours. What’s better then calling a friend who is hypothetically raising my kid.

============================ CALLING BANGALORE ===========================

Azhar: Hello, “*****”. Kaisa hai bhai . (Hello, “********”. How are you bro? )

Friend : (Still in sleep) Bata kya baat hai subah subah bhai bol raha hai.

(Tell me what’s the matter that you are calling so early and addressing me as a “bro”.)

Azhar: Bhai, bahut musibat mein ho. Madad kar.

(Bro, I’m in deep shit. Please help me)

Friend: Bol kya hua. (Tell me)

Azhar: Bhai ek do saal ka baccha jugad kar sakta hai ek din ke liye. Jo paisa lagega main donga.

(Can you please arrange for a two years old kid for a day. I will pay any amount).

Friend: Kya tu subah subah pi ke rakha hai. Pagal ho gaya hai.

(Are you drunk early morning? Are you gone crazy.)

Azhar: You know I don’t drink and I’m serious.

Friend: Ok, Tell me what is the matter?

After I told him the incident, he couldn’t believe. He was laughing relentlessly. He said he will try to find out but can’t promise. Call Ends..

Part 8- The Final nail in the coffin

I had to call the BIGG BOSS and tell him something. But I don’t know what. After analyzing all the pros & cons of every excuse what could possibly be my savior. I chose one. Time for super-over.

============================= THE_FINAL_CALL =========================

Azhar: Hello Sir, How are you?

BIGG BOSS: I’m fine. Where are you? Did you speak with your parents?

Azhar: No Sir, I’m still in Mumbai.

BIGG BOSS: Why didn’t you go to Kolkata?

Azhar: Sir, actually my mom was very worried and she told my uncle, the decision-maker in my family, about the call and then he called back. I told him everything and he was really mad at me. But he told me not to tell my father at this time because he has recently lost his father (Remember my Grandpa’s story in the beginning). And he will not take my surprise sportingly.

BIGG BOSS: Then what are you gonna do now?

Azhar: Sir, he told me to quit my job in Mumbai and come to Kolkata along with my Kid. And he shall speak on my behalf.

BIGG BOSS: Oh, What favor do you need from me?

Azhar: Sir, you have been really kind & understanding. Just a smooth exit will be good.

BIGG BOSS: Don’t worry I will speak with the HR myself and ensure hassle-free exit.

Azhar: I can never repay you for all your favors.

BIGG BOSS: I will be happy if you keep me posted on the development. Also, if you feel like you can come back anytime and pick the job from where you left.

Azhar: Certainly Sir. Good bye.

Henceforth, I didn’t ever report back to work. Even my salary was processed for the last month. On the final day, I visited my office and thanked the BIGG BOSS. He wished me best wishes and shook hands.

Part -9- Conclusion

My intention to narrate the story was not to feel proud or show-off. But an earnest apology to the BIGG BOSS. My biggest lesson was never to lie, especially with your superior. I feel ashamed & sinful of my act. Readers please think twice before you lie. No one can win through deceiving anyone. People may think differently about me after this but yes I have the courage to admit my mistake and move on. Feel free to criticize me or the story. But I will remain thankful to everyone who took time-out to read the story.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A DSA

2010-11-11T09:52:00.000-08:00

A beautiful day starts with the alarm beeping on the phone. More sleep would have been wonderful but the DSA realizes that the morning huddle is at 9: 30 am. He better make a move or manager’s ire could spoil his rest of the day. He rubs his eyes to find that the rest of the house is still nourishing cute sleep. Oh God! It’s LATE AGAIN. After a quick ablution the DSA looks for his neatly ironed clothes (mostly bright white shirt & black trousers). The Satya Paul blue tie reinforces his belief that he is still a DSA. “FUCK! THIS IS NOT WHY I DID MY MBA”.

The Street is jostled with people from different walks of “LIFE” running across to catch a bus or train which is again crowded with unfamiliar faces. The DSA makes every attempt not to rub shoulders with passer-by which will undo the iron on his shirt. But the effort is futile. He reaches the station to find out that the train is jam-packed to the extent that even Osama will feel pity for the commuters. You realize that you have just unlocked the highest level of “Khatron ke Khiladi” and have to conduct the next stunt of boarding the train. But more than yourself you put your trust on the mob awaiting the arrival of the train. The simple yet dangerous trick of standing in the front of the platform and leave your fate on the crowd to thrust you inside. The train appears to be arriving. You can spot people hanging out of the door and wishing you were a superman. Before you wake up to the reality, in a flash you are already inside. A sense of rejoice but no time to celebrate .You are happy to find out that all your limbs are still intact. Your body is glued against another, balls resting on someone’s ass & your ass kissing someone else’s. GOSH! HOW PATHETIC. The rest of the journey is covered with body odor & indistinct smell of things unfamiliar to you.

You reach the destination station and the near impossible task to find a cab starts haunting you. All cabs are engaged and those not, zoomed by as if you never existed. After some 100th cabs have shown no interest in offering you a seat in their vehicle, which now appears to be a luxury. You have made your mind to walk down the packed lane. From nowhere a cab appears and with no luck you casually wave at it. Your belief in God is reinforced in the form of the cab driver who agrees to taxi you. Without a second thought you are seated. Man, you are just late by half an hour and little anxious what if the manager questions you. The tea stall is always surrounded by common tired colleagues who pass a smile to comfort you that things aren’t as bad as expected. You start hurling curses when he informs that there is no morning huddle today or the manager has not yet arrived. You could have sneaked another half an hour sleep. Poor DSA!

The moment you set foot inside office a peculiar smell follows you everywhere. You are little annoyed with the admin for their inaction. Bosses arrive one after another and your cheerfulness departs simultaneously. You mentally prepare yourself for the common questions which can be posed like how many apps today? The road map to achieve your month’s target? Why no PL file logged in for the month? Any CG lead? So on and so forth.

Its 11 am and you are required to hit the field. You check your diary to look for any possible leads and naturally you have none. You inquire your colleague about their appointment for the day and feel envy for the ones who have some CG leads or Ultima pick-up. You feel miserable and to convince yourself you start believing that these “morons” are using their PERSONAL CONTACTS. The rest appears to be like a lost & found sibling. You mock at how you have nothing to do today and then come back for the evening huddle and make up stories which acts like contraceptives (prevent you from being raped by your manager & higher-ups.).

A secret understanding with people who are equally fucked, binds you together. And you plan to loiter around till evening and discuss the course of action to get out of the situation. With no place to go some choose CCD & some goes for a movie show. You should choose a place which is away from the banking world and the probability to bump into a colleague is least. The rest of the day are fun-filled sharing jokes about Citi, pulling one-another’s leg, bitching about another colleague who isn’t present, sharing secrets to do business, cursing your fate, interviews in the pipeline, your past relationship, exaggerating about things you did, life during college days, horrible experience in the recent desk where you have been deployed and “waigaira waigaira” And in between the message from S&D reminds you the “Vijay mantra of the day” and product information which you least bother about anymore. You take no time to press delete, most of the time even without reading it.

Day passes by effortlessly when the thought of going back to the haunted office strikes. Time to “manufacture” your “Contraceptive”. Like a virtuoso FBI agent you plan on how one by one we will enter office with a gloomy & enervated face to benefit little pity from your manager.

Half the day done, the second half rather the tough half begins. Even Gandhiji would have renounced Satyagrah if he was asked to wait for no reason for hours before the evening huddle starts. (Well why do you call it evening huddle? Midnight huddle would be more appropriate). In between you catch time to connect with non-citi friends and narrate the ugliness & frustration building up. A real test of patience & control needs to be exhibited to go through this difficult hour. You are uneasy & frustrated after an hours' wait. A run to the smoke shop or wada paw just managed to get you going till 9 pm.

The battle begins when the manager asks you the number for the day and you have nothing but to say that you met the following people and they called you sometimes later for the documents. In between your MIS SPOC reminds the manager that you haven’t messaged the days’ number to be included in the MIS. (Bloody, why didn’t he remind when you were sitting idle?) After a detail Ass-giving session the manager asks the deployment plan for the next day, which obviously you don’t have. He over-loads you with tips & tricks on how to achieve your target. All of a sudden everything seemed to be logical & easy. But the question is that whether it’s humanly possible to do what is expected to be done in 12 hours’ time. The solution is that your boss is always “RIGHT”. And you always have the right not to practice what is “RIGHT”.

Finally, it’s the time to head home. Your excitement is vanished the moment you step out, no transport to the station available. After another half an hour of coaxing & nudging folks managed a cab. En route to station you begin cribbing about the evening huddle & the way managers conduct themselves. The station welcomes you with another dreaded mob waiting to get in a machine which is already over-utilized. The journey is spent preparing the balance sheet of life, weighing the liabilities against the assets. The conclusion is how your college fucked you up on placement. On reaching home you feel even pathetic on seeing your roommate who was sleeping in the morning when you left is already home after work & poking strangers in Facebook. You just have sufficient time to relish dinner & prepare your bed. You have stopped dreaming altogether and your friends complain about your snoring habits after you have joined Citi.

The life of a DSA revolves around the above note with little variation based on color, sex, size & “PERSONAL CONTACTS”.

With Love

Ex-DSA

The Incompatible Acquaintance

2010-06-02T11:44:00.001-07:00

“The Incompatible Acquaintance”

Facebook is a place to socialize,

Ever wondered meeting someone so nice,

Who leaves a mark in your life.

An acquaintance randomly added,

Could be a darling, undecided.

Days were dull,

Mindfully numb,

Some waiting for call to work,

Others were waiting coz of no work.

Net keeps us updated,

Friends were away yet not deleted.

Morning time,

The buzz from a little known stranger unexpectedly arrives,

Inquiring about placement, little skeptical of her intention,

Silence broke and exploring each other was day’s expedition.

Chatting begun and with every word curiosity arisen,

Time fly by only to make us realize,

What a “beautiful & adorable” co-incidence awaited all our lives.

Little hesitant to go further,

She puts down my proposal to have coffee together.

Chatting all night,

Admitting the right,

One question leading to another,

Who cares for the world when we are together.

Out of blues,

She accepted my proposal which made me delight,

To walk down marine drive.

Darkness around,

Had to wait for light to be our gown.

Drowsiness bound,

Making us astound,

Give more time,

For fate to command,

Let the right opportunity sound.

Networking continues,

Getting absorbed in the mood of the night.

Garlanding every moment,

Pleasing our mind,

Cleansing our soul,

The air of friendship & love untold.

The day’s demand,

CCD was the moment unplanned,

Capachinno was Nice,

Except for the “ice-cream scoop”, so unwise.

Which made me realize,

My nervousness at her sight.

Apprehending my talks,

And getting lost in her eyes,

What do I say “It’s a pleasure, I oblige”.

Day’s folds into night,

A fatal attraction bonding us upright.

Second date was more fun,

Walked the way from Powai to station.

Home calling,

Bags of memories and desire for future.

Boarding the train,

Lets smile prevail.

Dedicated to the known stranger

By Md Azharuddin Khan

ABC ANALYSIS OF LIFE...

2010-03-04T08:29:00.000-08:00

The human civilization can be segregated into 3 distinct categories viz., Accelerators, Brakes & Clutches. The 3 important equipments which are required to run a car, likewise the same features are necessary which makes the civilization stay alive. All the three are distinct and complementary to one another. Accelerators will be useless without brakes and vice versa. Similarly, clutch will lose its importance without brake & vice-versa.

Accelerators comprise people like Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Gandhi, APJ Abdul Kalam, SRK, Mittals and the list continues. A person in this class knows only one way of living i.e., outscore your counterpart/competitor to survive. They cannot accept failure and always see themselves as a participant of a race. They are not just winners but also bench markers. They are idols in their respective field. They don’t just win the race but also makes the contest tough & dynamic. They have the courage to change the rules of the game. The one common quality they share is hunger. Every achievement intensifies their hunger & ambition to aim higher goals thereby setting new standard for the society. They can synonymously be called assenters or acceptors.

“Brakes” consists of people like Raj Thakrey, Inspector General of Police Shambhu Pratap Singh Rathore (Ruchika’s case) , Dawood Ibrahim , Adolf Hitler and a long list continues. These people neither prosper nor let others. They are losers & always insecure of their status quo. When they see others (Accelerators) climbing the ladder of success rather than competing they try pulling them down. But the big difference between both the groups is their source of motivation. When the “Brakes” indulge in malpractices the accelerators garner motivation under crisis to tackle the situation (The spat between Siv Sena & SRK). Their determination to succeed augments when met with hurdle/s. People in this class can also be called “breakers”.

The last and the major category are the “clutches”. It encompasses the general public who are not the vanguards but are central to the existence of the above two category. They have all the powers and they nominate one among themselves to make them Accelerators & Brakes, based on their respective personality traits & qualities. This group benefits from the action of the “Accelerators” & bears the pain caused by the action of the “Brakes”. They can also be called commoners since they share the common need for Food, Shelter & Security.

If this world is an Olympic stadium, the accelerators are the players who strive to be ahead in the competition, Brakes are the hurdle in the way of the accelerators, clutches are the public gathered to cheer the accelerators & scoff at the brakes.

Lastly, the Clutch spots the same individual differently under different circumstances & different time. Gandhiji was an “Accelerator" for the patriotic Indian and “Brake” for the Englishmen. Similarly, Osama Bin laden was an accelerator for the American when he fought the war against Russia & “Brake” when he slammed in WTC.

It’s up to an individual to decide what they want to become, how they want the world to see them, what benefits accrue in the respective categories & what sacrifice is needed to be a part of that group.

A thought by: Md. Azharuddin Khan

A MISUNDERSTOOD FRIEND

2010-02-11T10:20:00.000-08:00

Her presence made me feel secure,

She always cared but little did she let me know.

Sometimes angry, sometime amusing.

Moments with her were just amazing.

She screamed at me,

When she felt I was wrong.

I felt insulted wondering this is where I belong.

Embarrassment turned into animosity.

I drank to lessen my curiosity.

People around had little idea,

Wondering what has gone wrong.

I cried for the first time.

Nudging & coaxing,

To make me understand.

Share thy problem to find thy solution.

But I uttered No word.

This increased their confusion.

Aunt gave me sedative,

To make me numb.

After a while I passed out in their front.

Woke up with a headache,

Looked for my phone.

And Read the messages

To understand the commotion.

It was too late to seek any explanation.

Carrying the load of my fucked up life.

God, Please Help to avoid turning my well-wishers to malice..

By: Md. Azharuddin Khan

MY FIRST DAY IN B-SCHOOL..

2010-02-09T06:30:00.000-08:00

The Under-construction structure,

Unsure this is how my MBA life gonna be,

Already late by a couple of weeks,

Thousand thoughts streaks,

Admin was friendly,

Their treasury loaded with all our money.

Choice was mine,

Sec-E or Sec-A, whichever I opine.

Without any logic I choose E,

Little I wonder how is it gonna be.

Unshaven look, spectacle stuck across my nose,

Enough for people to comment on my pose.

All eyes spooked at me,

As if I am a criminal hiding from the agency.

Seniors barged to elect the CR,

I stood, trusting my PR.

Curiosity strikes,

Malice arrives,

“Let my friend win for my privilege to survive.”

Managed 5 ,

Thanks those who were Nice,

Wonder whether their decision were wise.

Pretending to be wise,

Not letting incorrect pronunciation arise.

Speak when required otherwise keeping mum was nice.

Met some recognizable faces in the smoking arena,

Felt like found a lost friend from the jungle of Vienna.

Appearing to be busy to avoid eye-contact,

Was the defense against all eyes that attacked?

Praying, time to get over,

Little attention to the lecture,

RECESSION.

2010-02-06T00:39:00.001-08:00

President speak

“Let every soul have a roof”.

Not concerning how they gonna use.

Low credentials sighs,

And queue up at the Bank’s Aisle.

Dispersing loan ain’nt fun,

What about the “Bank’s run”?

People woof that they have their Roof.

What about the mortgage scoop?

Insurance assure,

But can they handle all?

Derivatives were nice,

But not very wise.

CDO’s was the buzz,

Later they realize it’s all gonna burst.

People evade the Bank’s cheque,

What about their Income & Assets.

They have None,

It isn’t fun.

Banks went for a toss,

Nobody to look after their loss,

Not able to meet the employees pay,

They fold their hand and stop their hay.

Demand declines,

Assembly line unaligns.

Inflation dips,

Rates declines.

Don’t you people know,

We are not fine.

“No job” reaches the swine.

President intervenes,

To lessen thy loss,

Could’nt save the one that has already tossed.

“Bailout” was the cry,

Don’t they realize?

Whether

Afghanistan

Iraq

was right.

India

and

China

races the mile,

Overtaking the nations,

Those were once divine.

How about making career in this Time?

By: Md. Azharuddin Khan

MY FIRST DAY OF LIFE...

2010-02-04T10:49:00.000-08:00

My mother’s pain rewarded with my cry,

All the agony passed by with my Smile.

Ever I wondered the reason for my plight,

Little eyes fountain tears at their sight.

Father was happy to see me smiling,

Kissed my head to convey his blessing.

I cuddled to the side,

To catch more sleep.

Relatives’ ensemble,

To get my glimpse,

Some says I resemble more of Mom,

Others felt that they were wrong.

How does that matter a child so innocent,

Little I wondered about their inclination.

My life was clean like a slate,

Too early to judge my fate.

Body was pink,

Legs were thin,

Arms weren't strong,

Tender and slender,

Fragile and Soft,

Strong and gentle emotions around.

Careless and blissful,

Amazing and Gone..

MY RELIGION..

2010-02-03T13:47:00.000-08:00

MY RELIGION

Islam means peace,

Still people are not pleased.
It’s maligned and made fun of,
See it for yourself before you further mock.

Turn to Quran.

It’s the book for mankind,

It urges you to be kind,

It’s the book which correspond with Science,

To the “Blind” it’s the sign,

During the Dark Age,

What was the earth’s shape?

What did man knew about embryology?

Astronomy was alien,

But Quran answers all,

Isn’t that miracle?

Oh, you people respect my Quran.

People perceives that Muhammad (pbuh) is our Lord,

It isn’t true,

He ain’t No God,

A servant to the master,

He was here to save the world from disaster.

He abolished slavery,

Gave the women their due dignity,

Humble & clean,

Always ready to support,

The Right & The victim,

The pillars of Islam,

Shahadah - Oneness of God,

Salat- The prayers,

Zakat- Charity,

Sawm – Fasting,

Hajj – Pilgrim.

Where does it talk about killing innocent being?

Why don’t they see,

What is best and why do they propagate,

What is not good for anyone’s interest?

Respect mankind

By respecting things what they believe is divine.

Religion join people,

Politicians create divide by using religion as a tool to survive.

I join my hand and bow to the almighty,

Let peace prevail,

And the demons exhale.

By: Md. Azharuddin Khan

GHAR KA KHANA... (UMMMHHH)

2010-01-22T13:53:00.000-08:00

GHAR KA KHANA

When I was a child,

My mother made fresh food,

This made me stand stood.

The Roti flavored with Ghee,

Made my day healthy and lovely.

The aroma of the curry,

Makes me hurry.

To glob it all,

Not to spare it for any.

The Love of my mother mixed with Dahi,

Licked my palm,

Not to leave behind any.

Mom cooked Home cooked food,

For my health which was so good.

Times changed,

Something to loose,

For something to Gain.

Now when I moved to city,

My work keeps me so busy.

I eat all crap which wreaks my body,

And lowers my sturdy.

I drink energy drinks,

Laced with cocaine.

Take-away isn’t Nice,

What do I do I have No choice?

Now it’s in the news,

The Cooking Oil used isn’t good.

Milk is adulterated,

This makes my bones diluted.

Use of preservatives,

To shelf the Food,

For my brains,

Isn’t Good.

I must stop eating food,

This for my Life isn’t good.

I long for my mother’s Food,

Though not as colorful as in those Recipes book.

I long for my mother’s Food,

I long for my mother’s Food.

(DEDICATED TO ALL YOU GUYS WHO MISS THEIR HOME FOOD WHEN AWAY)

By: Md. Azharuddin Khan

HOW MONEY EVOLVED....

2010-01-22T01:18:00.000-08:00

HOW MONEY EVOLVED

GOD created light to make our vision bright.
Needs arise,
Some produce Rice,
Some raise spice.

Problem arise,
How about exchanging the pulses for the Rice?
How many pulses for how much Rice?

Exchange was difficult,
Since some commodity remain indivisible,
What say people?
How do we barter for a price?

Astuteness strikes,
Let’s exchange Gold & Silver,
For trade to survive.

Gold & Silver aren’t, Right.
“Difficult to carry”, Hands oblige.

The concept of Banks strikes,
All the wealth in the place that’s right.

Banks issues certificates,
Promising to pay when needs arise.

Why to exchange certificate for Gold,
When we have to restore it back to the floor.

Certificates recognized,
People oblige.
Sovereign identifies,
What more you need when the guarantor is precise.

“Money”- a certificate identified.
Why claim Gold when the certificates suffice.

That’s how money applies?

BY: MD AZHARUDDIN KHAN

MY MOTHER.

2010-01-20T10:45:00.000-08:00

From the labor pain,

To the dreaded lane,

You have been there,

Because you care.

Word’s aren’t enough to describe your deeds,

Oh, Mother your Love never cease.

When I was a kid,

You held my hand,

Showed me the world,

And my life began.

You nourished me with your milk,

Which help me grew,

Till I learnt how to chew.

Oh, Mother I love you

From my little nose to my toes,

You took care of all,

Without any remorse.

You have been my nurse,

You have been my cook,

When I needed you,

My pain you took.

You dressed me for school,

When I could hardly wear my pants,

You kissed my cheek,

And my happiness reached the peak.

Having you is my gain,

Oh, mother I thank you, again and again.

I used to cry when I saw you in pain,

Prayed night long for you to regain,

Oh, Mother I thank you once again.

How do I thank you, Mother?

How do I tell what I feel for you?

I can never pay for all your dues.

You lied to father,

To let me play,

Oh, Mother you never dismay.

My heart and my soul

Oh, mother you are my whole.

(THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO ALL WHO MISS THEIR MOTHER WHEN THEY ARE AWAY)

BY: MD AZHARUDDIN KHAN

TRAVEL BY LOCAL TRAIN

2010-01-19T06:36:00.000-08:00

Local were nightmare,

Before SIP strikes.

The Fear arise.

Work to Home wasn’t Nice,

Mentally prepared

To mount at 9.

Local arrives

Fear resides.

Getting in wasn't fun,

All the iron on the shirt was undone.

Climbing on someone’s foot,

Later, realized it was lady’s boot,

Sweat strikes,

Odor arrives.

Entering the nostrils,

Makes you malign.

You begin to pray,

“GOD, when my destination arrives”.

Mob exits for another mob to arrive.

Somehow you reach Dadar,

Desiring rest would be Nice.

Finally, your destination arrives,

Squeezed your way through the crowd,

Thanks Thy LORD that you survive.

Local arrives,

Local arrives.

PS: SIP STANDS FOR SUMMER INTERNSHIP PROGRAM

BY: MD AZHARUDDIN KHAN

MY LIFE IN IBS....

2010-01-19T03:31:00.001-08:00

MY LIFE IN IBS....

Smoke stuck between my lips

Even before, I clean the Dirt from my eyes,

Yes, It’s already Bright day light.

Ablution done,

College Begun.

Walking midway to the class,

Professor Glare,

As if I care.

Last Row was Nice,

Continuing to sleep

Before the Break arise.

I waved my hand to mark my presence,

Some pass by,

Some flew a smile.

Pretending to be tired,

I reached the house, where I reside.

Face book was the place

Where, I found ultimate solace.

Poking few friends,

Ignoring the rest.

Yahoo and Gmail welcomed me again,

Couldn't resists the temptation,

To mail a friend.

Dinner Time,

Choosing the Best among the least,

Finally, settled for Maggie at least.

Hollywood movies were great to watch,

Sometimes amusing and sometimes not.

The clock ticked 4 am,

Now was the Time to make my Bed right.

The journey continues,

Anticipating placement was the dream for tonight.

Back to the morning

And to the tired life.

By: Md. Azharuddin Khan

THE GIRL WHO INTRODUCED ME TO LOVE...

2010-01-18T14:05:00.000-08:00

Her Long locks spread over my face,

Sending shivers down the spine.

Her lips tremble,

With every touch of mine.

I stretch my arms,

For her to rest.

We lay there for hours,

As the time pass-by.

The stars were bright,

Unlike ours.

The loud sound of crackers,

Made her hold me tight,

Yes, it was the Diwali night.

We wonder if we can stay this way forever,

The cruel world can never see us together.

Tears rolled down her eyes,

When I told her forget me, Twice.

Little did we know when we fell in Love,

Man made it to bend it the way they like.

Love was racing,

Hopes was losing.

I don’t know if we can ever make it, Right.

Destiny had destined to rip us apart.

She was a Brahmin,

That was my plight.

By: Md. Azharuddin Khan

THE GROWING EDUCATION INEQUITY....

2010-01-15T08:31:00.000-08:00

Every issue that our society faces is like a link of a chain. Each issue is connected to another, either directly or indirectly. The chain of issues in this society that we live in, the strongest link of that chain is illiteracy. Illiteracy is the mother of all issues as it gives birth to many other issues like poverty, unemployment, child labor, female foeticide, population burst and many more. Despite

India

’s expanding economy, millions of citizens in the country remain trivial, with no access to the new found opportunities within the country. One of the primary reasons for this is inequity in the quality of education received by thousands of children from low-income communities. This inequity denies those without adequate funds a proper education, leaving them illiterate and weak to break the cycle of poverty, and participate in the country’s economic prosperity.

Today when the Indian economy is flushing with high paid jobs and graduates like me are busy chasing "THE RIGHT PROFILE”. But what remains unanswered is what about the ignorant children who strive everyday to earn a meal a day. Aren't they the part of the same economy? If yes, why are they being denied there rights to compete with the so called educated and informed. Is it only because the constitution hasn’t made it mandatory for people like us to teach the “DENIED” to live and earn. Can we shun our responsibility? Probably yes, but can we continue doing so.

The booming economy to continue growing we would need increased educated workforce entering the industry. With the increasing disparity in education can

India

sustain growing with the same rate? We have to wait to find out. The current literacy rate of

India

is 61% and if every literate Indian can devote modest time in teaching another fellow Indian the problem of illiteracy and; associated problem will be completely eradicated.

I am glad that I am not a part of the unfortunate "DENIED" majority. Today, I have reached the juncture where I can make a difference in people's life. My passion for teaching coupled with a noble cause will make me feel contended and complete. Also, this will be an opportunity for me to thank my parents for everything they have done for me through spreading knowledge.

By: Md. Azharuddin Khan