Have a break

BROOD

2010-05-16T01:20:00.000-07:00

The sun melted into his lap..

like that ephemeral ice

his laughter missed her ears

he cried without the device!

Coz tomorrow - he will miss the depth

And he'll laughon it-

Coz tonight - he will kiss the depth

while he lies half on it.

As he Stares the letters weaving

on the board, magically-

the rhythm, and the cry on the cord just

flew and diffused spiritually.

Coz, the hairs that 'fellon him

left the trace of the wine-

She din't hear the noise-

neither those eyes cryin.

So now he writes in residuum-

and forgoes her on higher ground,

for she was ,his caressed being-

he makes this esoteric, sullen sound.

And he wins-

when he kills his belief-

and when you read,

...

he reads,

...

and she reads,

...

and understands the grief...

-Dheeraj

Binge : Episode 2

2009-08-27T13:18:00.000-07:00

What I deduce

And I kept driving and playing with my cell for a long time and till the point I faced a police barricade.

I tried to pull down my eyeballs from under the eyelids to the nucleus of human headlight and pretended to be a discriminated, hapless private job goer who had to stretch on the Friday night. I managed a perfect “S” swing and escaped embarrassment and some fines.

I followed a Moolchand sign which am sure is nearby my place, I still couldn’t find my way back.

I notice there are a few places which are only existent on signboard in Delhi. Moolchand and Mehrauli are definitely two of them. They are visible from both directions of a road. And no one lives at these places and they CONFUSE me. I realized I am quite near to my illusive place when I found a “I miss u L” writing on the underpass wall somewhere.

Talking of place, there are few places which you simply end up treading no matter which directions you are coming from or going to. Mudrika(for a long time I thought this is different from ring road, for longer time I thought This is misspelled for Munirka), ring road are such examples and you get overdose of them because there are two of them.

There are names of a few places which makes no sense. “East of Kailash” is one of them. I mean-Come on! Christen it! Why just give direction? The first time I asked my friend staying there

“Where are you putting up?

He said “East Of Kailash”.. Pause…

I waited for some seconds and enquired..Okay….. and…

He said “ I have just one place to stay and one small apartment”..

I said “fine, so give me some more detailed direction to reach.. “East” of Kailash… And North/South/west of what?? Adjacent to what or behind /infront of what??”

Another such name is Andrews Ganj. What kind of name is this.. Anglo-Indian??

Call it ”Andrews Cross” “Andrew Avenue” .. or call it.. “Saheb Ganj” or “Gopal Ganj” What’s Andrews Ganj?

Well, these were not the thoughts that swarmed me that night. I just happen to stray…. Always!

I couldn’t make it to home but I did reach NFC( Now, is there Old Friends colony, or Jaani Dushman(Arch rivals) Colony J too?)

By the time the eyeballs had again eclipsed behind the lids.

I went to another pub but I have no idea how did I get in stag. I believe I impressed another fellow dipsomaniac with my knowledge of world economy, middle-east medieval politics and Spanish Premier League which, I admit honestly to know nothing of. What I do remember that I wasn’t allowed back in after I came out to receive a call.

Quenching my dried up throat, I striked conversation with almost everyone who came around me in a radius of a meter.

Mr Office Boss, I am marking off "Can get better at oral communications and conversations" from my growth area. I received enough encouraging feedbacks about it. :-)

One thing I remember after that was I followed my roomie, destination was home.

Next morning I woke up with the best of physical and mental state- dehydrated and drained in that order.

I regained sane senses in the evening to recount the events as they unfolded the last night.

I saw the mile meter. I had clocked around 120 km the night. Not bad… had parked the car at the most difficult slot possible which I never ever was able to. I looked for sign of damages.A scratch at the back, worth a price paying for a fulfilling night; yeah that’s what I thought when I rubbed against the wall. I recalled the incident.

To unwind mysteries of such night, there are always more cues. Wallet! I searched my purse to find ATM slips. I deduced, I had pulled money from Dwarka and Defence colony. Okay, so I must have run out of money and gas. And while I “kept driving and playing with my cell”, I actually drove 30 kms in opposite direction. And I was not playing, I must have been texting.

Another cue, check the sent messages and dialed/received calls.

A lesson: If accompanied, deposit your vehicle keys and your cell with friends, when you embark on the journey of self-introspection, riding on heightened sense of capabilities drawn from alcoholic amalgam.

It’s a probably not worth doing if can’t be done otherwise. Irony is, cause is the reason at many times.

And the mystery unfolded.

And I deduced finally: Excessive indulgence kills.

Something’s keep killing, something’s just kill and pass.

Cheers,

Dheeraj

Binge : Episode 1

2009-08-09T05:16:00.000-07:00

Building it up

Fridays are tough days. It’s always been. So, after trying to do a lot of things at the office and failing at all of them almost, I headed back (ok where?). On Monday, either I will have to fix up Friday’s mess or get another viral infection and stay put at home letting oxygen attain its level in blood.
Took the car out from the out-parking, halted to wave at the guard who shouted “Sir, aaj sab thik na?”(everything alright?)
“Nothing has been!" I thought and motioned my head in affirmation with a faint and fake smile on my face. Well, last Monday morning when I came to park, the security guards gave me strange look as if a culprit been back to the scene of crime. Oh Well, that’s not entirely inappropriate simili.

I remember last Friday when I mistook my car as a glider and the parking lot as a hill. That was a pardonable illusion until I tried to nose-dive the machine instead of sliding down the slopes. I am friends with them(guards/and drivers) from the day onwards..:)
This would sound like Pineapple episode from HIMYM or jest of the movie Hangover.. But it happens. Not only in Vegas and NY but in India too.:)
It was 9.15 p.m, getting home takes an hour. It would be a long, lonely journey.
I studied the ample sample dataset gathered over time, used it for pattern learning and deduce the artificial intelligence which echoed with sounding vote “Just a pint,Get home ,get wasted and rest, moron. Today is no day to take any chances. Switch that cell off and keep it somewhere from where you simply can’t retrieve till the dawn.”
So,I went to the wine shop and asked “A pint.” Handing over a 500 INR currency. Well, why the heck the office ATM can’t throw up some 100s.” blame it on ATM for anything that goes wrong now.
But it’s a waste! lager- get me a strong can. “Bhaia,khulle de do”(Tender change) he asked me.
“Okay, get me two can." I retorted back.
Collecting the change I thought- Good friend Bond is home. Better, I take 2 for him. Delhi shops will be closed by then.Wise, kind, homie.
“Bhaia, make it FOUR.” Round off.

By the time I reached gas station I had finished TWO. The Usual and customary was on. Calling people, connecting to the music being played in a peculiar way, volume levels increasing, feeling brave and feeling good.
Went down the THIRD one and I called up friends to ask them out to some place. Though,Everyone is not hell bent to drink his life through. Bad liver day.

So I went on to finish the stock by the time I reached home.Gave it a hard thought,measuring my sanity. Verdict was clear and loud “Binge, dude, You so have earned it” and by doing it you may win back your infectious smile and garner some happinesss. So GO!

Hmm, its 10 already,so Faridabad is the way for me. Btw, I am utter hopeless when it comes to direction, absolutely NO-SENSE.. I still navigate Saket ,Vasant vihar,Malviya Nagar, Khanpur IIT etc in the same trip when I just need to follow MG road nosestraight(Is that a word?). Otherwise I am good; when I am sloshed, I get better. Actually, being drunk means ME sans MY drawbacks/inhibitions. (Oh did I miss –MY SANITY, I think sanity is lame and tacky, well I thought it that time). what??

It felt, in those sporadic moments of stark realization, that I am already on a wrong way, so I managed to take some turn and well, reached Defence colony market. Got myself in a pub .Sitting there, I was uncanny in solving “Arrange the Word” Puzzle, hummed almost all songs being played, was amazed why there can be so many people at such small place, and what can they talk about so much incessantly. Sitting and observing is fun. Trust me,Do it and realize yourself.
By the time I was through… I was absolutely clear on what needs to be done and fixed to get me out of this slump.
So , I paid the bill, tipped lavishly, thanked manager for extraordinary experience while I really found him sketchy and shady the way I was looked upon, sitting alone in an area swamped by well-dressed couples and frolicking family. This is what I think I thought, from the flashes of memory that sparked at times
1.I need to get busy. Cliche,ouch!!. how easy is that to do when you don’t want to and ask me its the hardest thing to do when you want to.
2. I need to start reading books, restart writing, watch movies, tv, meet friends and “new people” and hello…spend some quality Stag time.
3. Stop pursuing what is mirage, an aberration. Keep your foot on ground. This should be the last day of this waywardness.
Good, so I went on to find the car going through right, left turns, mutilple times. Didn’t find it.
Another Moment of truth!!
“Am I drunk?” the blinking spark of sanity asked the drunken-swollen-fat head.

"Stop kidding me, I anyways suck at direction” "Its okie, totally, I am cool"

All I remember next was I was driving…and fighting some thoughts.. which can be paraphrased in active voice like this--

"As "another last ditch effort" before “meeting new people” thing can ensue, shouldn't I confirm, I really need to "move on" or "stay and wait" as this could be "it" and I might be turning back on "destiny"."

The thoughts was so full of double quotes(" ") that it was too much of exercise for already seized mind.

..... and I kept driving...

24

2009-07-10T10:29:00.000-07:00

"Right now, QA team is plotting to assassinate my superlatively delayed promotion prospects, my girl friend has broken up once for all, and people that I work with may be involved in both. I’m software engineer Dheeraj Pandey. Today is going to be the longest day of my life."

The following happens from 12.a.m to 1 a.m on the day of code deployment.

For now you should know, I almost chew the cigarette in the carnal want for a lighter. My friend back apartment is finishing up my bottle of exclusive scotch. I have been informed that security have been beefed up on the only route I know from office to home.(How do I drive back without being loaded?). By home, I recall, recently, my family and new extended family have thrown all their resources and been flexing all muscles to get me married. The kids have not been spared of the ultimate gyana of "the most important ensuing event in their small world". FYI- I love kids- so kins are playing the tricks of the classic mafiaso.

How everything has rendered itself much importance, is because the appraisal feedback closes soon, so any bugs logged today would have laid parasitic eggs in my nest of promotion. I have become hopelessly romantic with idea of romance.

Since, fate threw me into the profession; I have never seen any hike or title change ever in my little professional life. So, it’s supposed to be vital.

I had to stay back late after finishing the code and deployment because QA had to retest some pieces, and since they had to stay put- It was my moral responsibility to stay back to see them through.

I didn’t quite convince them thatit’s like chasing dog's tail. What if there is something else toxic round there?

Whatever- world is not without anomalies. We kind of agree to disagree.

I am Dheeraj, SE at a consulting firm; people still think meeting is the best proxy for delaying deliverables, where life of all species around me have different view of how to make it click.

Working late hours! Spending hours in something that doesn’t matter! Bullying! Flattering!. Having a rollicking drink with the boss, and what not. All in the game!

When it boils to the person I am- if I know myself well- that’s all I need to know. So there are no rights and no wrongs in the “sensible” world. Philosophy aside!!

The truth remains! Hard, fast, right in face materialism.

So, I managed to confuse a bunch of people working with me- bulldozed them with military interjections, dazzled them with the subject area they had no idea about, bored them with the technical aspects that no-one had mastery of. Well, that didn’t mean I know it. It just implied I am smart because you have no idea.

I somehow managed to have a cut-over, managed to find my name among the achievers and creditors - just because i was present, physically. Just because there were people around me more confused, more lost.

Now the hour is gone and I thought was it only 24 minutes, 24 hrs, 24 years? Or just keep it vague at best- eternity....?

"Right now, I am plotting to continue my superlatively delayed socialistic prospects. My life quotient has dipped to its abyss once for all, and people who care for me for whatever reason, still have lot of faith in me. People I mean for- don't figure me in their sketch anywhere. I am just another lost individual Dheeraj Pandey., not sure how to carry the responsibility of the asset called life. Drained, lost, cribbing, and trying to disapprove axioms! Everyday is going to be the longest day of my life, I suppose"

Hopelessly Hopeless

Happy Birthday D

2009-05-02T05:57:00.000-07:00

6 th May 2009,Wednesday.

Tuesday is gone...

Today marked another step towards ending the journey called life. Celebrated the usual way.Faced with challenge to arrange booze on dry day, it was quite an adventure-avoidable but I am a royal screwer not for no reason..

Managed to reach home after tasting dusts of entire Delhi and NCR before 12 somehow.

Got the calls from friends... got the kick that would keep me limping for a couple of days atleast...

Had put my cell on silent at night..missed out cab driver's call who must be furious of my daily tantrums..

Didn't go to office and now I dont know what to do with my time.

I had thought of things - beautiful, exciting, loving wonderful... did nt materialize...

Not the happiest of birthdays but could have been worse.. :-)

Better luck next time , high hopes-

For this time.. just wish you were here....

Happy birthday D

It's coming

2009-02-25T22:57:00.000-08:00

When enough ceases being enough,
When you are enamored to see her put up your cuff.
When proximity gets time running,
You know it's coming.

When the pause in the stare screams -"hence"!
When the morning coffee dissolves her fragnance.
When you need the fingers through your hair every morning,
You know it's coming.

When eyes sparkle and the skins glaze,
When phony ignorance turns to heinous sacrilege.
When aches smile and the wounds sing,
You know it's coming.

When embraces shrink into thin eternity,
When hands join to suggest conformity.
When you pay heed to every little thing,
You know it's coming.

When the speech mellows and words rhyme,
When the kisses transgress realms of time.
When the ashes starts burning.
You know it's coming

Love
~D

While it bleeds.. I salute the HEROES

2008-11-28T11:00:00.000-08:00

Mumbai, Wednesday, 11/26/2008
It all feels like a nightmare and I dearly, along with millions "sane" minds across the country want to wake up and hope to realize may it all be just a dream. I want to wake up and wake up relieved.

Mumbai, as they tout as "ultimate comeback kid" doesn't want to be decorated with any cliches now. Tired , brought down to knees, it beckons succor.

It always moved on. It never had time to rue and cry for those who are left behind in the frivolous race. Like an enthusiastic kid fallen over, she always stood up, shrugged the dust off and started the chase again. Never, looking behind to see who and what it hit on the way.

Not now, not again, never again. She wants the aggressor this time to be eliminated once for all. Take that obstacle off the playing ground. Make it fair and square.

What a shame! As I write this, my heart skips beats, I swallow my missing breath with concentrated energy to calm my anxiety and anguish, trying to stop prevent my emotions to overcome me- I feel being missed out.

I wish I was there, in uniform, weeding out the elements of animosity, saving lives.

My heart bleeds for the losses several families had suffered and the heroes who died in the fight for humanity. Everytime i see the death toll rising, the anguish mounts. Everytime, another brave young soldier shed his blood and loses its life- I wish I were there.

And here I am , on the foreign soil, cribbing about my promotions and thinking of shifting company loyalties over another thousand bucks issue- i feel ashamed and belittled, a dead stone- a nobody.

What led to the situation is a different story which i just hate to go into or involve into a discussion.

The lump in the throat gets bigger and buoyant.

The country is indebted to the martyrs , and all those little known souls- the bar tenders, doormen, hotel staffs, fire men, marcos, NSG commandos, Maharashtra police, defence forces who showed brazing courage to put other lives above their own.
Could some of them been saved? Could NSG have arrived and handed control faster to leverage their specialized skills rather than throwing police in for rescue operation? Could their be faster reactions? I aint no expert but the thing i know is their sacrifice had filled our heart and the country is indebted. Nothing to settle the account.

RAW may not be aWARe, Intelligene may have failed, politicians may be hand cuffed with diplomacy- who suffers and why? Blame game can continue- but it's high time for every citizen to realize their role , rise over Raj Thackrey's "Mumbaikars Vs bhaiyas", stop talking about "Human rights". Don't miss the polling because weather is inclimant, don't turn blind eye to potential threats just because you or you loved ones are not involved. Educate kids humanity, not religion. There are so many things to do, just elevate the thoughts and see through the smoke in the air- you may find the sun behind the dark clouds.

Tolerance hadbeen stretched enough to be translated into aggression and despise. Let the best brains and experts take control of the situation. Take no prisoners, take no shit. It's a reverberant echo of milions of true Indians who stand united at these hours of crisis.

While the uniform is fighting the black sabbaths, nation is waiting for the ordeal to get over, world waiting to see an end to the bruishing,scarring battle- it's time to rethink what we, as individuals are doing or can do to help make the world a place to live like civilized humans. I shed a tear for the victims , while it bleeds.
Saluting the heroes.........

- Vande Mataram!
Dheeraj

Mumbai, Saturday , 11/29/2008
60 HOURS........conquered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I couldn't hold it no more....

2008-11-06T20:31:00.000-08:00

One of the most grueling aspects of being into a relationship with a girl is escorting her through her shopping. Well, there are scores of other acid tests and hurdles that one needs to negotiate before he qualifies to be her majestic “Mr.Perfect”.
Pundits and scholars have iterated time and again; there is nothing “perfect”. We, human, take the best path out of the dark woods.
I, for instance catered to my girl’s demands of pretentiousness while she compensated my imperfectness with some generous spending.

She recently got a puppy (Male puppy) and she bought her pink clothing for winters, Poor guy couldn’t communicate its pain, but its eyes were as vocal as possible. Girls seldom understand subtle ways, you have to say it.
Say it time and again. “Good night”, ye, “I love you” – how does it matter to her if you are in middle of cafeteria eating out with group of suspicious men.
If you don’t, you are not committed, and shying of expressing it, effectively meaning – you are faking and have covert, maligned motives.
Once, I said out of in frustration
“Oh, Miss double standards, there are other way of expressing love as well, Allow me sometimes.”
“You…!!” taking the “u” to the end of the sentence and marking the end of the conversation.

Shopping malls have proved bane for men. For they eat (oh really?), watch any pathetic movie with extremely overpriced Popcorn and diluted coke and then go shopping.

It was just that fine day.
Last night, she had talked about her colleagues and a supposedly “funny” guy. I smelled a conspiracy behind this to measure my jealousy concentration.
In an infant relationship, more you measure in your jealousy concentration, closer you go towards that critical PH scale. This scale can be defined as “just enough concentration of jealousy to make her believe you feel and still not enough to transgress her line of private space.”
Like a true flag holder of male specie, I foiled her plan by “pretending” to hear patiently which of course was busted when she re-verified my attentiveness next day by asking the name of the guy.

I parked my vehicle and first stop was this eatery joint. She ordered quite a few and ate, well, nothing if I may follow calculus limits. And, I am sure if she becomes Miss World someday, she would vow to end starvation from Africa.
I had a serious thought of getting it packed and giving it to my roomie and en-debting him for some evening snacks. Though, decided against as I didn’t have faintest idea for how long would I have to carry that around.
I was relieved to be aware that tickets for the SRK’s top Box office grosser for week were unavailable. Like most pleasurable things in life, my relief was futile, she settled for Rush hour and I thought which movie could have been more torturous.
As we came out, ladieswear section was right in front.

“So, what are you looking for?” I asked.
“Mmm,, come na!”
I said “First , I am a s/w engineer, can’t work on vague requirements, need physical, tangible, quantifiable clear technical specifications.
Second, please note that “Mmms”, “naa’s”, “youuu’s”, “ok’s” are not acceptable form of replies.”
My statement was lost in her expectant bliss of prospective shopping.
“You look around while I will go and catch smoke. I always smoke after achieving milestones in my day to day mundane life.”
My sound energy was left unattended and was overpowered by her kinetic energy that was haphazardly pulling her towards all corners of the shop.
She clutched her tired teller machine to show some out of basket of clothes.
The basket would be easily out of capacity if I put in my one suit but to my amazement, it beheld seemingly millions of tops piled and intertwined.
What is this? Just tops”
“Leave, not good. Look , look bags!!” As if a deprived child has seen his favorite ice cream.
Spending quality time with the rack, she gave me clear hints of what she really liked –some pathsala bag and then threw it back.
“Let’s see the top.”

She looked lost like Sindbad on island of gold but she did exude an insinuating aura towards other women as if shouting: I am with my boy friend,you stupid fishes!

Hours passed me trailing her all around the women’s zone.

After stationing me awkwardly against women’s trial room, she appeared like a nightingale every 5 minutes to pose as some covergirl asking my opinion about the top..

While she was in there, I glanced at the prices.
Well, it hardly used a quarter of a meter fabric. Why on earth so much?
I silently slid my hand in pocket to ensure if my handkerchief should be costlier.

Again, the pink top. I was asked to opinionate.
Well, its not shirt /jean/shoe… But gauging her smile spanning her face
“Awesome” I responded.
My body was aching to run away and catch a refreshing beer.
“So done!”. Let’s get going.
I wonder if it was all part of a murky plan to spend more time to piss me off, so that I exhibit minimum resistance paying off the bill.

At the cash counter she lined up to strategically to see bag rack. Reaching the counter salesperson she turned around to tell me.
“Look that bag would go well with this! Isn’t it?”
But leave, its freaking overpriced”
Being a thorough gentleman, I said “No! Buy.”
The plan, however sacrilegious it was, seemed to be working for her.

Bill stated some 1700 bucks.
She took ages to find her purse inside a bigger purse inside the biggest purse. As if she wanted to pay.
“Okie, here you go, I took out my Credit card passing it to the salesperson.
American chivalry, foolish me.
“Mam, 300 more and you get this special card which can fetch you additional discounts on top of regulars next time”.
“Hon, you get your sister this liner and mascara, her birthday is next week, isn’t it?”
“Fine, pack up. I don’t have any card holder place left, you keep it.”
“Sweetu, You really don’t need to do this, ya”
“How well I know, Sweetie! “ I said
“you naa”. She said.

By the power bestowed by god to my teeth and hand, that night , I cut my last Credit card in three pieces without scissors

A week later , I was single and sipping beer with my group of singletons.

Love
-D

The Man who sold the world - with my Vocals

2008-10-12T21:51:00.001-07:00

Actuating growth

2008-09-30T21:32:00.000-07:00

Actuating growth

There was a buzz around and why not?
It was an occasion for the “All-Hands-Meet”. What it essentially meant was – Get to see and hear leadership folks and more importantly, a mandatory break from the work.

Regional director made his foray to the podium and started with some quality jokes in an impressive accent and stage presence that oozed years of expertise in impressing less-learned people and confusing a miniscule group of erudite people.

He welcomed the US-Region Pre-Sales head who landed specially from Massachusetts.
It took Pallav almost a year of practice in solitude to step up from “writing “Massachusetts”” to actually pronouncing it with a comfortable degree of confidence of getting it right in first two attempts.
He was elegant, wore classic black suit, clean shaven, short crop as if ready to serve on the business platter.
He was like an ambience of a famous restaurant which makes it unique, draws customers but in the end it all went down to the fighting, sweating cooks, waiters, chefs to make the food in stinking kitchen and cater their hunger.
He started
“While my last trip to India was truly amazing, I take marveled memories this time as well.”
Pallav who just finished his one year of job and was sufficiently depressed after losing his “savings” (9000 INR) in the Friday night party that was forced upon him on this grandeur occasion, thought: “Now he will talk about traffic.”
I have traveled West coast last month for a proposal of an oil manufacturing company, and the response we got for our proposal was overwhelming”
Pallav tried to understand “West coast” and dropped it as an unnecessary pomegranate to put his knife into.

Proctor started with morale boosters and Junta applauded for themselves.

Pallav moved away to nearby smoking area to smoke, thinking
“ Oh why not- when you have your Project manager seating right next to you barking at all possible occasions and ready to pounce on slightest sign of diversion which he somehow measures from a graph.
The graph is supposed to adjust itself with some data that we put in timetool, how funny. If the foundation is so strong….. “

“Making our presence felt across geographies is the next steps we are mulling over to insulate us from the US economic slowdown and shift out focus in Europe which is now so North America-heavy. Its a privilege to have another arrow in our quiver”

The speech went on. Pallav understood the words but when they gather together, it made no sense to him. He could understand the photons individually but not the light as a whole. He then settled by blaming himself for poor enlightenment.
While few people got haunted by the build they need finish the same day while some perceived this a chance to smoke another cigarette. Some of the girls slid into the conference rooms with their cell phones to celebrate “Happy hours”.
Time for Q & A:
Scholar1 : “ Hey Proctor, Welcome to India, so what has been your “astounding” moment during this trip.
Junta: Laughter Laughter!!
Proctor: Seeing cows breaking the signal along with pedestrians.
Junta: Laughter Laughter!!

Scholar 2: We have seen a long history of shifting our focus to service to specialized domain expertise. Are we planning to erect another vertical for domain excellence?
Proctor: We have our laid out principles which have served us good so far.
While there is definite change in the business demography over couple of years, Wexeen and the BOD are waiting for the stabilization period where focus on people is targeted after the business goals are perceived as degree of excellence.
Does that answer your question?
Scholar 2: Ye, it does thanks.
Junta: Silence.

Common Man: For the next appraisals, do we see rating 2 people get a substantial hike?

The arena attained its critical nadir of silence. There was one mouth and 2* hundreds of ears.

Proctor: The season had begun. Smile. Of course, opportunities are all the way. We have seen continued improvement in our process. I want you all to understand the performance ranking is “relative” and rating 2 is a “Job well done”!
Junta: Drop the jar, break the spell, permeate the silence, defrost the body!
Pallav has been practicing the line for last 10 min separating himself out of world around him. He should not falter and sound learned at the same time.

Pallav: Hi Proctor, Pallav from Content Management practice.
I wanted to ask you if we do promote ourselves as consultancy giants over billboards so proudly, how does that reflect in our proposals and sales deal. If the client is persisting with time tested products- will it be wise to advice on better and cheaper products which might shake their system for a short interval but promises rich dividends in the long run?
Proctor: Good question, Sorry your name?
Pallav: “Pallav Shashtri” - as confident as he has ever been. After all it's his name, his forte.
Proctor: Pallav, business has been our strong hold and we do project and advice them on what we think is best for them, right from the time we get the projects in Pipeline till we actually win it. We do focus on the best methodologies to solve the business requirement.
But when it comes down to execution we stick to the plan.
In the end, business is the best driver of the business. Does that answer it?
Scholars: Developer’s question scorn.
Junta: Now who is this new one?
Pallav: Yes, yes, thank you.
Mission accomplished -- “Asking right question at the right time.”

-Never mind
-D

Bollywood Raging

2008-09-15T23:06:00.000-07:00

Welcome New Age Bollywood.!!!

Time to get over SRK bare bodies, Ranbir Kapoor's Towels, Akshay-Katerina's basi-scratchy-expired masala.
Past few weeks hasbeen a treat for movie-goers. Now we have a choice, not a Hobson's choice.
Rock On, Mumbai meri Jaan, A wednesday- Watch them and understand my interpretation.

These movies are different, healing, refreshing rocking. A Wednesday is in league of the best Hollywood thrillers. Rock on is a league apart, MMJ is a "story just said" and how.

Bollywood is talking passion, grit, risks, adventure and excitingly keeping the best of Bollywood intact and not letting popularism contaminate the forward-looking movie-making.

Rock On [\m/]
Performance: Think of water just flown, easy going, effortless, natural.
HighLights: Passion, theme, acting, Farhan Akhtar brand(FRK? ) :) , Arjun Rampal foray to the podium, Music.
Rating: 4.1/5 (Don't Blame me for bias)

MMJ
Performance: High quality.
HighLights: Story Telling, Actings(Irfan Khan, Paresh Rawal(Long time, mate), Perspective, Dialogues
Rating: 3.5/5

A Wednesday
Performance: Powerful, but so obvious- Naseerudin Shah (NSR? ) :) & Anupam Kher
HighLights: Jimmi Shergil , Naseerudin Shah,Anupam Kher, Thrill, No-nonsense approach, screenplay,editing.
Rating: 4/5

If you spend money in seeing actresses dancing around in hero's reverie just to fit in a popular song, if you do care to watch Bruce Almighty's Bollywood remake, if you don't get fatigued watching movies, 100 letter strong- titled after old Song titles which can only be spelt in abbreviations, if you still think romance and love story is all Bollywood can offer you- be elated to be proven wrong.

Hail the league of extra ordinary gentlemen- FRK, Neeraj Pandey,Nishikant Kamat, Abhishek Kapoor!

-Dheeraj

It was She, Part 6 [Concluding]

2008-08-11T22:59:00.000-07:00

The Trials and the trails
His vacations were over soon. He went back to the college and the first night, he got that SMS
“Sorry, I am really sorry, but please don’t take me wrong. I am moving to Delhi for studies.”
He replied back “I remember the best 30 seconds of my life. I did talk to you. Thanks for it. “
There was nothing after that.

Months simply flew by but the dust never actually got settled permanently.

N.Delhi, 2004 and back
Delhi was bigger than Ranchi, he enquired Ramjas hostel and the Miranda house based on his leads- the probable places and kept his eyes open all the time in the streets of New Delhi. The same old tricks- keep eyes open, hope to have another stroke of “signs”, pretend to be a family to get things out. There were no whereabouts.
It was out of a Bollywood movie, he laughed thinking alone at times.
He returned back to college while he still had a few days of vacations left.
Hostel was sparsely inhabitant. He got time to turn the pages of his life and think through.

He realized it to be something which didn’t have an end- just a futile mirage, a fruitless endeavor, a self- indulging obsession, a tiring journey without any mélange with the destination, an aberration or even an inflicted paranoia.
“I just don’t want to be happy and am actually enjoying this. I want to keep the wound alive; my mind is prejudiced that I can’t be complete without this.” He tried convincing himself.

But he couldn’t gather any answer for some of his own questions.

“Why something had to be born and stay alive, if it’s not destined to grow or even die?
Why isn’t reasoning, grace and response part of love?”
Why can’t love survive without strokes of multiple coincidences?
Why the most natural feeling have to be so torturous to express and tortuous to attain?
Why the sweetest of all emotions have to be so grudged and tested?
Why I have to force things to happen when it needed no force to get into me?”

He disagreed to believe this is just “it”.
He wrote a few mails, sensing no response, held back. The sporadic mails written out in the moments of enlightening weakness, borne out of drunkenness started throwing mailer demons. Her number never got through.

He went back home after his final exams and had a couple of months before he would move to Mysore for his first job.

He desperately wanted to see her, talk to her, the one chance he craved for years. He was sure he would need no more than 30 seconds. That’s all.

He used his old method of dialing 198 to find out her home number but couldn’t break through the new address.

Raj felt a tickle in his ribs remembering his Sherlock Holmes modus operandi. How he went to the telephone exchange to get a duplicate copy of her telephone bill posing as a family? How idiosyncratic of him to try sounding like a girl on phone to get more information out of her family? He smiled and gasped. He didn’t have any regrets. He owned it and loved it. He was father of the relationship and he was just nursing it.

The effort was futile as she never picked up nor was she ever seen again. He spent most of his afternoons and the evenings at the tea stall near her house for two months waiting to steal a few seconds of her fading imagery.

He thought of dropping a letter but remembered the promise to her.
In utter hopelessness, he called up her father and spoke his heart a night before he would leave.
The jest was nothing more than “him not being a philanderer and wanting just a few moments with her and requesting him to spare her from any uncomfortable questions that he might want to ask because of his call. “
He listened like a thorough gentleman and responded as a thorough protective father.

The response was not unexpected but Raj felt relieved to have given a shot.

3 years later, Now.
Raj looked at his watch. It was 5 minutes to 12 midnight now. His birthday is a few minutes later.
He got to ward off the smell of smoke before his younger brother would come looking out and put the smoke alarm on.
He had asked him the same day when he dropped him off to his school, pointing to the next crossing with an innocent twinkle in his eyes -
“Big B, This was your silky route, I remember”
“Dude, go study, you are in 4th standard now, not a kid. Come with Shubham – I won’t be able to pick you up. Bye junior.”
“Bye, senior” he said giggling.

“Yes, it’s my birthday and she would be a year married now too.” He smiled.
The smile that insinuated him “Incorrigible, you romantic fool”.

“What “this” sign suppose to mean now?” This innuendo was directed to the moon above.

“Ye,,,,,,, sweetie, come on in” . He closed his laptop and shouted exultantly as he saw the junior running towards him, rubbing his eyes to be the first to wish him.

Long Live Love
-Dheeraj
P.S : Concluding Not Ending!

It was She. Part-5

2008-08-06T20:39:00.000-07:00

The Aberration

13 days after the letter
Raj was restless to get a reply from her. He kept refreshing his mailbox just to be disappointed. It was not going to be a long wait, he was hopeful.
On the 13th day after he dispatched the letter, he received an email. He read it at least 100 times
"Hi Raj,
Who are you…… how did you get my address. Please don’t create any problems for me.
Do I know you…. I admit I am overwhelmed by your letter but…… I don’t even know you" Have we met ?....
Tell me everything about yourself.
Mail back.
-BIIIIIII"
They exchanged a couple of mails. It was established that they were friends.
It was June 26 when she told it was her birthday while he was chatting with her.
She asked "So, what’s on my birthday? It’s today"
Raj "OMG, you should have told me earlier. I am leaving, bye and check your mail after sometime."
He logged off and ran to his hostel room, said sorry to his diary, tore a page from it and typed in the first poem that he had written for her and sent it.
Next day he got a mail
"Raj,
I can’t express how I feel. It is the best birthday gift I have ever received. I can’t believe someone could love me this much.
This is my cell number.
Thank you for this and I … well.. I really feel as the most beautiful girl in the world"
He spent hours in the computer lab just to read it as if trying to compensate his years of disappointments with this moment of fulfillment.
Raj threw a party for his hostel friends. A treat, which no one knew the reason for. They didn’t mind, so didn’t Raj.
Tired of sitting and conjecturing the past, Raj felt an urge to relive the moment. He went downstairs to get his laptop and a cigarette.
He came running back on roof and searched his rediff mailbox again to read the mails.
It was the same feeling. Seemed, he was transported to the corner seat of his computer lab, 5 years back, same lisp, same beats, same moist eyes and the same cunning smile,
A smile that insinuated him "Incorrigible, you romantic fool".
They had started exchanging SMS. Every time his Siemens A-21 beeped, he rushed to see the message.
Most of the time, cursed the shameless promoters and the long "Opening Inbox" message of his cheap mobile.
A month had passed and he, first time in 3 years since he left home, actually got excited to get back for vacations.
Amidst of his exams he got that SMS from her.
"I won’t be in the city and would be back after 2 months."
It didn’t deter him. He pressed and found out which city she was, but nothing else.
She replied back "Don’t ask, Best of luck and please don’t try to contact me, please."
He called up on her cell only to find someone else asking him not to trouble her again.
His exams were over and he was at his hometown. He hadn’t heard from her for 2 weeks now.
He made an excuse at home and went to Ranchi. There she was, somewhere.

Ranchi, 2003
4 days passed. He was at his hostel roomie’s residence. He thought "how foolish of me to do this?"
Dejected, on the planned departure day, he leisurely picked up the newspaper on the table and was looking for sports section when he got startled to see an image.
"How can it be? Oh my good. It’s a sign."
He saw her snap in the supplement paper.
He called up home and said "Mom, I would come later, not tonight."
He called up the writer of the article where she had posed as a model. She refused to knowing her. He called upon the number given on the supplement and pretended to be all kind of person to get her contact number- police, journalist, correspondent, modeling agent, an estranged family. He couldn’t get through.
2 days more- nothing. Finally, he asked his friend to come with him to collect the bus tickets.
He was sitting in the pillion seat of the bike. Hardly 500 meters away from his friends place, he saw a girl in a Van passing by. He could just see her tresses.
Raj: "Mate, drive adjacent to the van"
Kam:"Dude, this is my street, don’t bring disrepute to me. You will find many to chase once we get on Firayilal"
Raj: "Just cross the van slowly, please, please, please".
Kam: "Okay."
Yes, it was she…again.
He felt tricked, exhausted by the pranks providence was playing with him.
They followed her 30 miles away from city, waited outside an apartment in the outskirts for 2 hours till he saw her coming and take the route back.
Not to mention, Raj financed the gasoline charges and promised a lot of goodies for his friend in return of the favor.
Half an hour later, she stepped into city centre’s Punjabi sweet corner. Kam tried out all the sweets that he never heard of or couldn't pronounce while Raj had coffee and chilled cola together.
He couldn’t gather courage to approach her. She was with family, it seemed.
Tomorrow! He decided after finding her place just at a long jump distance.
Next morning after waiting for 3 hours she came out and went to a grocery store.
He inhaled all the oxygen his lungs would require in a matter of few moments and went inside.
On her back he said "Hi, ummmuhh, Hi" You recognize me?"
"Well, please stop this for heaven's sake. You followed me last day, do you have any idea, how much trouble does it spell for me?
"Okay... Listen just one thing.. Give me 1 minute, please."
"Shut up and go,"
"Listen; Meet me at Kaveri tomorrow, 4. I will wait. Please, just for a few minutes."
She was gone and never turned up.
Forlornly, he scissored the newspaper to take her snap, thanked his friends and headed home.
On his way back, he thought of drugging himself to unclutter his mind from the thoughts but sense prevailed.
He called up home and said cheerfully "Mama, sorry, it was my friend's birthday, I am coming home."

-D

It was She Part-4

2008-07-30T21:06:00.000-07:00

The letter

Raj felt the same old pristine heaviness settling into him. The breeze was getting milder but the chill, stronger. He found himself roof fence to rest on, and continued the reminiscence.
He had stopped following his routine of following her shadows. It had been a month now. His studies had suffered and he wanted to get over it.
He could sense there was nothing in it. It would give him more pain. He did love the pain, it was different, never-before, ubiquitous but it had hope. There was none now.
Raj moved to Delhi after his 12th. He thought that would resurrect his academics and help him get over her.
A year passed. And just like that, he kept himself moving with time. He didn’t get through any decent colleges.
It never occurred to him that it’s something to be bothered.
He couldn’t forget her. "That" bothered him.
He had ruined his dreams of getting into the Air force. He could never be a fighter pilot ever in the life.
Funnily, sometimes, he dreamt being in Uniform and appearing against her – may be that would impress her. His hopes had crashed and burnt. He decided to be back at home.
While coming back to his home, he instructed the rickshaw to follow his silky route. Nothing had changed. Cadence of the heart reflected same urgency. The air boasted her fragrance.
Premonition of her being around and appearing in front of the eyes still arrested his thoughts. The thought of infatuations were wrong.

Circumstances led him to an engineering college far south. There were lectures, seminars, labs, tests, internals, and semesters. It was good to be busy for a change. Things kept him preoccupied. He met with wonderful people, abhorrent people- a life in 4 walls, teaching him world of experience. He took time out still, though little. He wrote letters and poems for her, never meant to be sent.

Just to keep and preserve. Something to beat his fallacy and satisfy his fetish, something that made him feel good about himself. Something that no one else could feel or understand.
He called upon her house once in a blue moon. He didn’t want the flickering light to be over, just like that. He had not seen her for a couple of years now. The telephone number had changed as well.
He grew uncomfortable. The anxiety built up and then he had a shot in the dark, in his 4th semesters.
He wrote a letter which was meant to be sent. "An old outdated way but still so amorous", he thought.

He wrote:

"Dearest,
I don’t know what else I could do, I don’t know if there exists a better way of doing this and if I can do it that way.
What happened was idiotic, illogical and inexplicable, it just did. So, I am letting myself do it the same way- the idiotic and inexplicable way. Just like that.
I am Raj, It had been almost 4 years now since I first saw you. I don’t know whether it was a crush or love at the first sight. But that sight of yours never went off my mind.
You went your way, I changed my way too, but I couldn’t let you go. You have suffused in me.
I want you to know that I have fallen for you. I have never in my wildest dream thought of demanding the love back, I am probably too scared of the thought itself.
I had decided to keep this with myself. Then after all these times, I realized its not going anywhere and it needs acknowledgement.
Not only would I be unfair to the only feeling I nursed, the only relationship I created but also to you.

I don’t believe in God, destiny or the adage - "everything happens for a reason".
Neither have I looked out for reasons. It’s your prerogative to know that someone loves you from the dead core of his heart and it is meant to be only yours.
I do admit, it just doesn’t happen this way. There would be so many who might have similar feelings. It doesn’t make sense. A stranger and a strange letter! I don’t expect you to say anything positive.
Just that you know, just that it might bring you a thought of me some night when you are in your bed, just that this could make you feel important, just that this love won’t be a zombie anymore, gives me a reason to be happy.
"It" says it’s unfair that someone be damned without being tested and not been given an opportunity. With the miniscule of hope, I ask you to give this a test, a chance to convince you that nobody else could love you more than me or even the acknowledgement that you know,I could love no one else anymore.
There had been scores of letters like this with me. I have been selfish keeping them all with me. I want to show them all to you and many more things- whole life would fall short.

Dear,
This letter is not about you, I am not putting in what you had in you that made me fall for you, without knowing you. It’s about me and my confession.
I don’t see myself falling in love with anyone ever, it’s too precarious to feel again, the way I have felt for you. You have exhausted all my tenderness.
I can feel the hole in myself, it had created. It’s only your love that can fill that.
Whilst I say that I don’t expect anything, let me implore you that if you get a slightest of idea what’s in me for you or you too feel and believe in the inexplicable ways… do tell me.
My ID is there at the bottom.
Hoping for the best and preparing for the expected.
Love is a duet and I wonder If I we could ever sing it together.
Ever Yours,
Raj
The_raj.kishore @gmail.com"

He grazed the letter slowly, tore another fresh page and copied it again.
He kept the second one in his academic file beneath all the papers, held the original one and sighed to relieve his nerves.
He said to himself "This one goes to the one I love."
-D

It was She Part-3

2008-07-24T22:26:00.000-07:00

On the due date

Raj scrutinized the wood in his hand under the flickering light- a light just holding itself on the support of the overloaded battery.
There were no marks.
"Might have been burnt in the winter", he thought.
"Things are created and they are perished. This never even changed its form. The love had remained the same from the day I recognized its resident and still is a part of my own entity. "
Philosophy collided with the truth.
He used to wait for his father to come in the evenings. Strolling patiently on the balcony, he used to gesture him to keep the bike outside the fence.
"I would park it in the garage, Dad"
"Okay, I m keeping the helmet here, come"
"Helmet! No, bring that up. I will be just around. And no problems, I can dodge the cops anyways." Giggle.
Raj drove the bike to the "silky route"- a nickname he and Abhi had given to the street. It was a routine. He never missed a chance to try his luck out.
Even if he was asked to bring some grocery item which was no more than 50 meters- he would take that extra distance to reach her house, just in case. .
Sometimes, he took his beloved younger brother, 5, with him on bike and talked with him what he couldn’t to anyone else. His brother shouted "Silky route!!! Silky route!! Silky route!!" and pointed his fingers to her home whenever he passed the street.
The looking around went for months, 8 months. He still couldn’t find a time where he would be assured to see her. Her picture in the mind was still hazy.
He overheard his friend saying her being already engaged with someone.
He disapproved it with a silent fear but the love had started asking for acknowledgement.
That fine day, he decided to talk to her.
He rehearsed in his bathroom and in the mom’s room when she was not around. He had been taught to practice in front of drawing mirror during his school.
She would cross that turn; usually that’s where her friends bid bye. "I will follow not for too long, would seem rude and ungentlemanly. Then from two meters behind, moving two paces away from mirror, ok- from here, I would say "Hi!" with a pretentious smile , a little raise of hands.
Then, she would turn around, I will up reach upto her and say
"Hi, I am Raj.. I don’t know if you have noticed me, I have been seeing you around for sometime and wanted to say that I actually want to be friends with you."
He had zeroed in for a few key decisions earlier- "friends formula", "On-foot soldier", "green shirt & jean" "don’t give her chance to interrupt" and "mug-vomit-run".
Raj drenched his hairs with as much water as he could to keep them in place and look fresh, wore his special green shirt (worn once, dry-cleaned thrice in 16 months to save its royal status as a party dress) and the jean which actually had to be tied down from falling apart by the belt which bore a fake lacoste brand.
He reached there 30 minutes earlier than the school’s final ring.
By the due time, he realized his hairs were dry by now and every strand was trying to play diaspora, running out at different angles.
He saw brown and white uniform clad girls coming down. Krishna Niketan was manufacturing gems it seemed. He could see guys flocking together, bird-watching , running their bikes behind buses and rickshaws. He waited for "his blue diamond" to sparkle out of the unimportant crowd of gems.
His heart was sagging and was on verge of breaking down with every passing moment.
"She wouldn’t have come" he concluded, its an hour and half past the breaking time. He convinced himself to return back home.
As he turned around to head back, he felt a lump in his mouth; he could sense the hollowness under the ribs, the lifeless and voluntary trembling in his thin legs.
In a matter of couple of seconds, his ears were ready to catch fire. She was right there coming from the opposite direction hardly ten paces away.
It took an era of five-seconds to jolt himself back to sensibilities.
"Yes", revise,, "hi".. Then name, ok...
Then what…shoot…okay … sweet lord, what was that.. Ok, "I like you"… no! It was something better.. "I love you?"... Damn me!
She crossed passed him.
"Think ... Think"... or rather see her once … "man… follow!!!... "Oh my buttons"... What was that?
How could I forgot, I heard she took tuitions after classes. This was the time and this was the direction.
"Forget that, act now, Set the priority, go…….." Someone from within exhorted him.
Eventually, Raj followed her and reached his stipulated "two meters" from his love moving farther away.
With the deepest breath he ever took, as he tried to open up his throat, he felt a reverse gush of air tormenting him, a thick smoke garroting him, a nerve from his stomach pulling his throat down.
"Hi…" as feeble as a sound qualified to be called as a whisper. He wondered whether he said or just rehearsed again in mind.
Lost in his own thought, he looked up to measure the distance and if he could make it.
He saw a guy talking to her a few yards away from her house. She didn’t look anguished, neither perturbed nor disinterested.
That was enough to deflate his dented confidence. Reducing the length of his steps, heads down- he remembered his friends talking about her seeing some guy.
He turned back to head home. Walking back he constantly looked at his shoes without purpose.
At times, he could see flashes of her face in front of his eyes obstructing the view of his shoes. He kept walking – crossing the 90-fit road, what they call it. He stopped. He had reached the well.
He bowed down to peep inside to see an old timber basket floating on the water, slowly sinking down. He kept looking at it till it sank and was no longer visible.
He didn’t shout that day, just added a few drops of water to the well.
To be Contd...
By
Dheeraj

It was She, Part 2

2008-07-22T15:49:00.000-07:00

The Things As they were

Raj came out of the reverie as the fag burnt his lips.
He stood up and paced sluggishly towards the log of woods in the corner, left over by the construction, soaked and charred under the open sky.
As he picked up a particular piece of wood, he sensed a black-out. It was the old custom still strong and on, "standard 1-hour power outage" time.

How he waited for power outage then! It shielded him from his dad's admonition and provided an excuse to go to the roof.
Being on the roof, looking at the sky, watching a famous TV soap- everything gave him a special kick.
"Even she would be doing the same thing at this moment. We have something in common at least." An eternal metaphysical communion.
He was given a secluded outhouse to study. It was tough for him.
"How can I study, if no one is noticing if I am?" He admitted his own helplessness naively.

At times, conceding defeat to the echoes of his own conscience, he did manage to study, never more than 15-min stretch.
However, the story never surpassed from arranging a notebook, a thick Guide to Chemistry, a Reynolds pen, placing them adjacent on the table under the study lamp and
imprinting the "Atomic Structure" with an attractive font style and solving the same set of top 5 objective questions at the most.

He had just excised from the sports section of the newspaper supplement, a picture of a girl cheering Goran Ivanisevic.
He believed or rather forced himself to believe that she was a look-alike. It "was" and "is" mandatory to have your girl’s picture.
He had put that cutting into the new diary he got from the Dad's Insurance agent.

He flipped the pages to see and imagined the modifications that she would require to be exactly like her.
Hairs a tad blacker, face contours a little more seamless, lips a little fuller.
He closed the diary, slid under the pillow as he waited for mom's call for food. He used to go to the roof for a talk with himself just after the supper.
He unconsciously compared everything he would find beautiful, to her, trying to find an alternative to the tempting torture of seeing her in entirety.
A percentage of her beauty was attainable and gave him space to breathe otherwise she was ruthless and would just choke him every time he had a glimpse.
When he tried to sketch her picture, he always realized he could actually never see her properly. An outline of the oval shape, her hairs, dazed brown eyes, fair complexion- may be.
Nothing more than that. The second time he actually saw her, he was dumbstruck. He had not gone to play volleyball. On the pretext of seeing her sister, he walked a couple of miles towards a well in the solitary fields
He had looked into the dark water of the well and shouted twice full throttle. It was the first time he went there and did that. He never knew why.
He started to like doing this but saved the act for special moments. He was always scared of over-using anything and cherished the way they were.
"Would I make it less important, would I take the charm out, would the beauty be degraded?"

Here expressionless now, Raj moved towards the light emanating from the neighbor's room with an air of anticipation. The tube light had just switched on, powered by the battery backup.
He felt the wood in his hand and remembered a similar wood log then.
He would write her name on the paper and tear them to miniature pieces so that no two letters are in once piece. He would do random check, picking up a paper and finding the half "R" and the full "a".
He did that for some time till he found this piece of soggy wood. He took the nail and inscribed her name, and as he always did- made it illegible by writing a "S" "Q" and a cursive "D" over it

"It should be the ideal way. You stay and live in this world of mortals but only I should be able to read you, find you, see you." He prayed sullenly.

-D

It was She, Part 1

2008-07-21T20:39:00.001-07:00

Life would never be same.
Raj was sitting on the roof-top smoking the cigarette illicitly. His head was spinning because of the unusual fast drags. He couldn't throw it until completely utilized though there was this moment of relief waiting, when cigarette would be thrown away to the neighbor's portico and he would be free from the dangling fear of getting caught.
He always got flooded when he walked on the roof.
He gazed to the east, looked up to the scintillating moon and smiled thinking of the caged frozen hare in it trying to jump out of the beautiful confinement.
A mile away, he could see her house, over the cliffs and through some tall palm trees obscuring what should have been clear and obvious.
There had been hindrances that had come up lately. Taller buildings, battered roads, growing age, passing time... passed time. The time had really passed. He could see through the thick rings of his smoke. The breeze is cool tonight, it was n't then..... 11 years back..

Raj closed the door slowly, ensuring no one knew he was in the drawing hall.
The telephone had a small lock. Dad had locked it after freaking high bills for consecutive months.
He knew how to overcome "this" obstacle. He picked up the receiver and started stroking the cradles in a rhythmic unison.
"tak-tak, tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak,tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak, tak,tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak, tak-tak-tak-tak-tak." He didn’t feel proud or guilty of his art of prison-break. He had to do it. He couldn’t help it. Correct number at first try. Ye it's right.

I can smell the ring of her phone, it's her place for sure.
His beats were ready to blow his ribs.
"Hello" after 11 rings..
A Deep sigh. It's not she. He was relieved for that moment and depressed the very next.
"Hello, Hello.. who is this...? Please don't call here. Don't you have to pay for your bills?"
"Technically No." he reassured himself.
No, it's not she. He knew
Raj kept the receiver back on the cradle.
"I could have actually waited for 36 more seconds. It all costs the same." he cursed himself.
"It was the same time, she picked yesterday. Where is she? This is my 15th call." Raj calculated.

After the great telephone-lock episode, he had imposed a self- restraint compromising his rights to follow his heart and showing his concern about dad's expenditures.
"The middle path, as Buddha preached. I can make 5 calls from Abhi's place and 3 from sis’, 5 from Nish's place. Of course, I can spare two coins from booth."

"But where is she? Why isn't she picking the call up anytime?
Let me check out. Shit, it's too hot and windy outside. There is no way she would be even in verandah. It never hurts to try."

Assuming, there was zero chance to hit her, he didn’t decorate his clumsy face or changed his not-so-clean shirt.
He took his bicycle in the hissing sun.
He could see someone moving in the verandah as he approached her house. Too scared to validate the image in his mind- he sped his bike running past the home with an unsuccessful obtuse-angled glance.
Raj just kept driving straight as if pushed by an invisible power as far as he could before he realized he is all sweaty, tired and dry. He stopped to gather his breath.
Turned the bicycle back and took an elliptical route back home to avoid going through the same path again. That costed him 2 more km through dusty roads.

As he reached his home and sat under the guava’s scanty shade he whispered " I am such a waste".
Suddenly, he smiled when he got up and said in a tone audible only to him "Look at me, My shirt is awful and so is my bike, Good I was not seen."
A punch in the air. "Ye, It was She!"

Led Z Kashmir 1979

2008-07-12T16:25:00.001-07:00

Led zeppelin - kashmir (1979)
Uploaded by googel_5

Led Z - Immigrant Live @ Montreal

2008-07-12T16:20:00.002-07:00

Led Zeppelin -Immigrant Song
Uploaded by manon42

Netiphillia- The Malady of Netizens

2008-06-23T13:40:00.000-07:00

Pete4u: Hey dr?
Pete With this id, Everyone thinks you are "4-them" oh so sweet!
Coolsexygal84malina: Hola, who'z dis?
Oh Malina- don’t you have more endearing attributes that you can fit into the email id.howzz dat "Coolsexydarkeyedbrunettesuavestraightgalwaitingforsomeone84malina??"
Pete4u: Pete,m,NY
A long pause of inactivityPete4u: Buzzzzzz!!
Coolsexygal84malina: Ye, temme
Pete4u: wat do ya do?
Coolsexygal84malina is typing a message
No new msg……
Pete4u: R u dr?
Pete4u: knk knk..
Pete4u: Hey listen..
Coolsexygal84malina is offline.
Pete4u: Okay, seems like bz, catch ya lateh, ciao.
Hmmm. Pete, great conclusion.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
dk_compi(Me): Hey Pete, hw r u?
Pete4u: hey , amma gud
If making it short were the rule," I‘m " would have qualified by miles.
Me:Long time, mate.
Pete4u:Ye,been stk 'p off lt.
Me: Oh, well.. wotva, So heard u in Toronto,hw Km?
Pete4u:WDUTIMDH
Me: :-
Pete4u: ?
Me: googled "WDUTIMDH" , no result :-(
Me: Wats that acronym?

Pete4u: "What do u think I'm doin here.".. same as u do- client location-Job.
Me: Oh, I dint know that lingo..
Before I could start repenting about my ignorance, here he goes
Pete4u: "vry lngo strts smwhr, alrity?"
ye, of course….Almighty!! Almighty !! Almighty- Gods- deities of English- Vowels are going to be obsolete soon. Sorry!
dk_compi(Me) is offline.

Where do you think Pete is from? He is not an American citizen, No English, no Canadian, nope indian.. He has acquired his own citizenship- He is a Netizen.
Pete is a character, a subject; I prefer to call him geek and he takes a lot of pride in hearing that.
Pete’s hobbies are making friends, watching movie, playing games, role-plays, reading, writing, talking, dating, socializing, collecting pictures, writing and current awareness.

He feels he has no time to pursue all his passions. 10-12 hrs in/about office, 3 hours cleaning and arranging daily routines,6-7 hours sleep,2 hours cooking,1 hour phone/tv.
Yeah, I am convinced. Ain't you, same goes with all of us-No time, huh?
So he made a way out and resorted to internet.

The above excerpt is when he was trying to socialize. He believes socializing and dating are like path and the destination,in that order. I understand completely.

He happened to be the talk of the town once. Tall, athletic, lean, dark and ever so effervescent till he discovered loneliness comes with its own qualms and prizes. I hate internet now, though I'm as much addict as he is. He has though reached critical stages of the disease, No cure possible.

Well he is still tall, there isn't any reverse-osmosis else he would have been short by now. But his height is winnowed by his diametrical blessings off late. His darkness has given way to patchy complexion.

We have not met for years. We don't feel the need to meet.
It feels that our relationship had reached metaphysical heights , we convert ourselves into indistinguishable particles traveling through wire full networks meeting somewhere in universe, embracing , indulging and departing as if we have been one with each other.

I was his roommate for a couple of months. First thing he used to do before opening his eyes was to put on the music. Now he keeps his system on standby and opens his eyes to see 100 mails, invitations, offline messages,
The subject lines are in all possible scary fonts size,text,codes. Samples( check your spam folder, you've got them too) :

# Luckiest person. REGISTER FREE
# Sweethoney waiting for you.
# 2 new crushes in Philadelphia.Meet them now.
# Blast your blog http://Pete-haveabreak / across the web
# **EARN MONEY UPTO 10000$ sitting at home**
# Travel free 2 nites+3days
# Movie forumz-premier members- Free movie online
# ** FREE COMMERCIAL AVIATION MAGAZINE**
# Pols and Pills

Oh shoot!
Pete understands the effort the sender/spammer/system has taken and appreciates it by opening each of the mails and replying to what he believes is fit.

We performed a series of tests to diagnosis the criticality of the disease "netiphilia" against his hobbies and see if he manages to pursue something and here are the findings.
1. Sports:
He has scored more than Theiry Henry in FIFA video games. Pass
2. Outdoor touring:
He has seen the Saharas,Pampas-Prairies, rainforest, Niagra, Barabados, Hiroshima-Nagasaki, black sea, red sea, Antarctic-Arctic everything over the net. Pass
3. We remembered his art of making faces :
He can make all the YM smileys even on Notepad. Pass
4. A lady-hunter.
He has been dating around 2 dozen girls from around the world, meeting up is never his priority.That will mean, leaving the laptop alone. Pass
5. According to his super ex-GF , he was a great kisser.
He still has great kissing techniques from smileys ( :-*) to syllables comprising mostly of the alliterations made up of a , m , u and h. Pass

He is 35 now- time to marry and shoulder the responsibility to carry forward his family lineage. He still not harbouring his ship. I think he is waiting for the time when the technology can make him a father through internet.
IMSTD about myself, Any counselors?

Wots dat IMSTD :-?? Ask me ;-)- I will tell ya.

-D

A true Ballad

2008-06-13T16:40:00.000-07:00

Imp: Somebody Broadcast on my behalf

2008-06-08T13:20:00.000-07:00

I am 13 month old kid.And I am already confused with everything in and around me. People around me are making my life no more easier. I agree I do something crazy on the floor or bed at times and do not care to clean it. But when I do try wiping out, they shout as if they have seen a voodoo-child ghost with a knife in hand.

My mom sometimes scares me to death. Even if I put that soft chocos that my uncle gives me in my mouth, she starts garroting me apprehending I am eating the chalk again. Now, I know difference between chalk and cheese btw. I learnt after first mistake- Someone with verbal communication skill, please inform her.

Misinterpretation is my greatest bane. When I want serenity and tranquility at home basically tired of my own crying, mom stuffs me with some peanut shaped cottons clothes under my pants and takes me to a camouflaged person with snake around his neck, glasses on face and innumerable needles in his apron.

My dad knows only one way to keep me happy. Barge that milk bottle smelling like Becosule tablets down my throat and force me drink it all. And when it metabolizes naturally and frequently - he thinks my tummy is upset, Why won't it be, I ask your honor!!
And yes, someone on a common communication platform as my dad, please tell him- don't force me to piss every 30 minutes, i hate his whistle- too infrasonic.

As if physical torture is not enough, they try using me to satisfy their inflated egos. I hate that.
Last Sunday, a very tall guy and a very fat woman accompanying him came to our home. I don't have a problem, unless they gang up to gag me.
Oh i forgot with a kid, they came. The kid occupied little more same space than me and displaced a little more air when it moved around.
The way it muttered words suggested that it was "she" and younger than me.

Are they trying to set us up? I wish they do, I came to the learning in my last life that male to female ratio is dwindling fast and its better to secure your birth well in advance.
So there you go- Crime against innocence and my rage against the elderly.
"Battle of whose kid is smarter."
Dad: " Hon, Say Daddy"
Me: "Grow up, why do you need to prove anything, pa. I will say when you give me that train toy which you have kept on the top shelf." I said , he didn't understand so i just kept toying with the new denim pant.
Mom: " Show the uncles your dancing talent".. okay.. almost picked me up like a polythene bag half-filled with sunflower oil, ironically to keep me steady on my feet.
1...2..3.. "Hujurr,,, Teraa teraaa teraa surooorrr ooorrr oor"
Me: "Shoot! Same song again. I hate that song - sounds like someone is forcing a pencil down my ear drums repeatedly". I refused to buzz.
Parents in unison: "He is keeping ill for some days. see how pale he looks. that's why he is lazy. "
Me: "I see. Now, that's a news a breaking news"

Other couple:

Dad :" Mini Beta,,, come come here" showing her something which was bright and shiny.
My Dad: " The Dumbest kid will come if you show something like that. Declared unfair".
well he didn't say it. I 'm saying on his behalf. A son's duty, u know.
Luring her to touch that thing...she says.. " Daughtie, say to uncle: "Good morning" "
Kid: "Let me see what that feels like touching..." well she didn't say it. I 'm saying on her behalf.
A very close friends duty, u know .. ahmm ahmm.. ! I 'm blushing.
Mom: "No, first say "Good morning" "
Kid: Oh Okie ..:"gaabbrraa maarabraadabbraa"
Dad: "Whooaaa,, bravo.. now give her that crap "

My Mom was looking right into my face ready for kill anytime.

Dad: "Now, go and shake hands with Aman.. "
Me: "That's the way aha aha , i like it. come fast!"
Kid: "Oh what non-sense.. neither i understand nor does he.. I can't interact with dumbos".
Her dad pulls her and put her down to my place.
Me: "I hope you remain consistent down the years, Mr Tall Dad "
She starts off with pulling my buttons.
Me: "I sincerely hope daughter follows her dad's genetic behavior down the years, Miss Cutie "

I continued to play dumb because i think that's the way children should be.
And yeah, I did say to her " Suueeettt haaarrt"!
And of course she replied back.

..................................

by uprooting a few hairs from my top floor.

-D

The Terror- One of the jack Nicolson's earliest Movies

2008-05-27T14:36:00.000-07:00

It's a Public Domain movie, Watch it free online"

.

Online Videos by Veoh.com

The tag of the Stag- Royal Stag

2008-05-13T09:59:00.000-07:00

Me and my roomie were usual unattainable stags , friends of us were even better (read bitter) stags. The biggest problem we mulled over was how to initiate the talk.
Well, he always blamed me and insinuated that I being one of the rankers and in one of the most blessed Department of college , ie CSE, should have cracked it.
I, on the other hand, shamelessly in defense, blamed him for being such a hunky and the outlaw biker, sorry ladder, and yet a stag. It’s coincidence that he loves Royal stag.

It took a discovery of a white stray in his stubble that made him take solemn oath to break the jinx that fateful evening.
Here’s his attempt.
Target location: No winners for guessing right! Yes, CSE dept.
Our guy approached this girl and asked a straight question non-chalantly "What's your name"?
A pause in steps and a scorned look..
Our guy wondered, if he asked what he rehearsed or the passcode of her bank accounts.
She didn't respond and walked away. Brave soul followed with steely determination in his heart and interrupted again.
“Why”? she asked..
A question is not to be questioned.. Well, as if this is a screening test to test suitability of the person seeking enquiry.
He thought and quickly gave up, saying “Why??? ..As in simply...I mean... just asking.”
“What’s your business?” Another level of authentication.
I ain't no businessman, a sheer mediocre BE student craving for love. He rejected crude thought. Then he thought.
May be I can say this. “Oh, I have got a female baby in my paternal uncle's house and they were wondering which name is "In". Your face tells me your name must be in.”
He started weighing his options in darkness of his own mind while she gradually faded away in the far dimness of the aisle.

That night poor guy asked me.. What's the answer for this "WHY"?
I said with an air of confidence. “See, dude, no girl is so easily going to tell her name in this village just like that. Just say " You wanna friendship".”
“No ya, she must have a guy” . he sounded despondent.
"Hell no, tell me if all the girls are engaged, why most guys are single. See, Rajesh,Shashank,Amit, Manav, Shiva,Guru, all, even Rahul,and even me.. huh” It’s just their attitude.
Ahh, There is a theory about "Rahul" as well, weird one. Highlights below---
* All sweet guys are Rahuls. I swear It's Yash chopra/Johars effect.
* All shashanks/Shekars/Sidharthas are mostly fair and lean.
*All Mukeshs are uncle-types.
* All Sandeep's are little fat.
* All Shweta's are little flirt.
* Amits/Manishs/Poojas are usually so widespread that characterizations or pattern matching is quite difficult.
* All Rishis are quite womanizers.
* All Shobhas are overtly showoffs with little substance to back it.
*All Priyas are quite beautiful..
* All Malti's, Latas are fatsos..
* Manojs are wheatish and sport moustache
Well, no offence,, just whiteboarding what we did..

Back to the discussion again.I stray a lot.
"Oh Okie." He butted out the cigarette butt on the astray lying on his chest and put it down slowly under the bed.
Next morning, he caught her while she was starting her scooty after the Microprocessor lab.
Usually you get hot headed after that.He should have consulted me.

"I am Kamlesh, Mechanical, final year"-putting special emphasis on Mechanical and final year” As if she will pity hearing this and bestow some mercy.
Engine shrieked but din’t start. “Yours?” Stooping and anticipating some movement of the lips hidden behind the generously shampooed hairs.
“Oh.. I want to be friends with you.” I said loudly thinking, she still would be expecting the reasoning of the 24-hrs old question.
She straightened up and said" Why?"
“Oh .. don’t you know.. I am such a dog.” I read his mind.
“Why mean what? I mean simply.. I like you..” This is what he actually said.
“Sorry I’m not interested..” This is what she ultimately said.
“I just asked your name, damn it.. what’s the deal with interest here..” :-(
Engine started .
She went and he did what he does best. Smoked!.
That night again, he challenged me .. Our challenges were of the finest & rarest quality.
“Can you show me?” he asked
“Dude, this is nasty, non-sense.” I snapped.
“Oh , I meant can you show me that you 'can' talk to girls?”
“Oh K'mon, grow up. What's there in..” I said with a pretentious ease..
Anyways, i had said No to “No” long back and accepted.

Hence, the brainstorming.
I remembered, Manish- he is quite involved with them. What does he do?
Yippy, Notes.
But, i never take notes, I don’t understand other's handwriting, no matter how filthy and illegible I write.
Plus, won’t she know that I have 54 guys in hostel from whom I can ask. This will be so embarrassing and too obvious..
What else..?? okie,, I shall ask what happened yesterday with Shilpa, why was she upset- who the hell I am to worry? I have never worried, worse, i din’t come college yesterday. Then, why haven’t I worried for all these passed years.
No, poor idea. Okay, The farewell party. I shall ask where to organize and what’s new this time around?
Oh,, I never did those,, Do i have to lie just to talk.. forget.!!
I decided and shouted to my roomie standing near the far end
“BOND.. Come on in, i lose.. I sponser your Kachauri and cigarettes and the Maaza."
-D

Happy Bday D

2008-05-05T16:37:00.001-07:00

Today's my birthday. And i miss my country. I think it's more to do with the mindset. All looks good and enjoyable with friends and family around.

I am in Toronto for a 3 months assignment. Summer has just started, I still see a few maple leaves on the roads. "Mohabbatein" legacy is only just alive in this part of the world. The good thing about being here is the wiping out of the scar of being a software engineer for 3 years almost now and not being to onsite, well hasben too much to live with. Not that I din't want to come or I desperately wanted to be abroad.I was neutral to it to say frankly.

The new office from outside looked like a garage . I say this with no contempt or prejudice but that's the kind of businesss our client is in. So no complain as long as I get the feel of the client business ,if thats what they intended to do and I ain't given a mechanics jobs to do here. As if i am capable of doing such a skillfull job. I know I am ment for worse things than that.

Anyways, first adulthood birthday without friends and the obvious pleasantries which comes with that.. Let's see how it fares..

And yes,, Thanks everyone for reminding me that I am still not such a useless fellow. Thanks for yr wishes ya..

Love

-D