The TimePass Of India

What is Love? Explained.

2012-01-12T20:03:00.002+05:30

I just returned from an awesome trip to the United States. This info is of no use to you and I am not bragging. It's not brag worthy when every Tom-Dick-Natrajan from Hyderabad TCS has been to Detroit and back. This info does tell you that I have returned and have been jet-lagged to the hilt. So I am sleepy at lunchtime (unlike all you IT engineers, I am sleepy before I have had lunch) and am wide awake at 5 in the morning.

So, I was trying to get myself to sleep one of these mornings that I couldnt sleep at 5 am. Unlike normal people who deem counting sheep as a fairly effective way of falling asleep, I, from my IIT JEE prep days, know that nothing puts me to sleep better than an Organic Chemistry problem.

I gave up on Organic chemistry years ago. I don't get it. It doesnt get me. We don't get along. So, I chose other more difficult, more universal problems to tackle. I picked up a subject, I have been racking my brains over years. What is Love?

Not that I didnt have the answers to this question when I was 17, the age when I finally decided that life wasnt worth living without cable TV. But those answers werent, well, all satisfactory. They left me wanting, like a good meal without dessert. But everything changed the other day at 5 am. Things became clear. I can't explain the feeling. But it was pretty close to when I first learnt how to bowl leg-spin. Oh, I remember the fear in the eyes of 8 year old batsmen every time I came to bowl. Ah, good days those.

So, let me explain What is Love, with pictures for better understanding. You might want to take notes and all. Yes.

All love, father-son, man-wife, brother-sister, grandpa-grandchildren, girl-teddy bear, young man-fast car, nerd - Harry Potter book can be explained using Love between 4 permutations.

1. Love between a Man and another man

All men admire each other at some level. I think it was hard wired in us by nature. We had to like each other to be in groups. There is strength in numbers in the jungle. Being in groups men could protect themselves from other predators. It kept them safe.

(Notice how I have watermarked the images now that I have finally invested my time creating something?)

Men dont want to be caught dead confessing their love for another man, heck, a grown son wont even kiss his father on the cheek (unless he is Italian of, course). Even between male friends, you will never find one man appreciating another man's friendship. Words like - "You should brush your teeth everyday rather than biweekly" or "Stop being such a jackass" frequent among friends. The only way of spotting true male love is when they talk about each other. There is pride there and admiration and if the friendship is really deep, a hint of respect.

Try that between any two men, try a father and son. They might not confess loving each other, but you will find these three emotions when they talk about each other.

This theory can be further strengthened by proving the converse is exact opposite. Remember a certain politician's son was caught doping the night after the politician was killed by his own brother? Okay, search Pramod Mahajan. The world, I think was too harsh on the son. They said he didnt love his father. Yeah. True. He didnt respect his father. He didnt admire him and wasnt proud of him. In short, he didnt love him. So he didnt care.

2. Love by a man for a woman

All men have an inherent need to protect the women they love. A father is always protective of his girl, a brother is protective of his sister, a boy of the girl he loves... There is something very primal in this type of love too.

Along with protective instincts comes ownership. Men were so obsessed with ownership that the society world over decided to make the woman change her surname when she gets married to a man.

I don't know which of these emotions came first. Is a man protective of a woman because he owns her, or does he feel he owns her because he's been protective of her?

My theory can be verified by testing it for love between a man and an inanimate female object, like say, a car. The love that a man has for his car (provided he loves the car in the first place) can be categorised by ownership and protective instincts.

The makers of Rolls Royce were so protective for their car that they sold it to only those people who they felt could take care of the car. Now, that's love. Some parsi men are known to spend more time with their cars than their wives. (That might also be one reason why their numbers are dwindling.)

3. Love of a Woman for a Man

A woman starts loving a man once she starts respecting him for what he is. A daughter loves her father because she respects what he does for her and her family, the fact that he protects her from all evil, that he is her shield. A wife (not surprisingly) has the exact same reasons why she respects her husband.

Pride is another trait of a woman's love for a man. Ask a woman where her fiance studied - the pride that brims over when she says -IIM Ahmedabad. Never before has the name of the city "Ahmedabad" been pronounced with so much pride. Ask woman about his less educated man's education and she would go - He is the MD. MD of what company, you ask? MD of his father's company. You later learn that his father owns a stationery shop and the MD is actually the shopkeeper.

Like men, women have a few inherent needs too. Women find that the men they love are incomplete without them. A mother feels that about her son, so she ends up ironing the clothes of her son who lives in the hostel, does such stuff on his own back there, every time he comes home. A wife feels the need to pack the bags for her husband's South Asia trip, because "he can't do a good job on his own", forget that fact that he has been around the world before getting married, and has been pretty much packing his own bags.

Men, obviously like the attention. It is a kind of love they are incapable of. Love that is blatantly obvious.

The only problem with the "incomplete without me" emotion is, that when there is more than one woman vouching for the love of a man, it can get catty. Like when - the wife joins the beta-ma club. True story.

4. Love of a woman for another woman:

There always exists a subtle hatred between women. I think it is evolutionary too. When stone age man used to go around in groups so would their women. Inherent in human beings is the need to protect it's young. Now, a man would have relations with more than one woman, every woman would want him to care for her offspring more than the child of another woman in the harem. Hence the hatred.

But this subtle hatred is important for love between women. This tells them that they are related in some way. Indifference is worse than hatred. Indifference is what you dont want someone to feel for you.

Women, when they start understanding each other, they fall in love. It might be easier said than done. Go sit in a ladies compartment in a mumbai local to learn more.

Caring comes naturally to women. But they extend this only to the women who they deem worthy of it. Once they do, they do love each other.

Now, when a woman says she loves another woman, that shouldnt be taken seriously. Observe two girls when they first become friends. The rainbowy talk, the sweet secrets being shared, you think it will go on for ever, only to find them go their seperate ways in two weeks for something as silly as "she likes Ranbir Kapoor. He's mine." I say why fight over Ranbir Kapoor. He's gonna get fat one day anyway.

So there. That is my complete understaning of love and I have explained it with pictures. In case there are any questions, I am always available in the comments section.

Till the next time, keep falling in love.

The definition of class : A study of cars, movies and girls

2011-11-21T19:19:00.006+05:30

In 2008, when I was working for Siemens, a friend from college asked me why my blogposts had become so irregular, if I was overworked and that stopped me from blogging? The truth was I wasn’t overworked. In fact I was one of those lucky people who would always take the office bus back home. Everyday. For 8 months that I worked here. So what had changed?

I write only when something bothers me, or I get a chance to think about something which I think is path breaking or something. Yes, go through my past posts, most of them are life altering :P. No, seriously, I would rather not write at all than write substandard stuff. There is something about a 9 to 5 job that I sincerely believe, kills creativity.

I wonder if I should get a job that pays me to only think. I wonder if there are any jobs like that. I wonder if they are even called jobs. Also, would I want to be paid a monthly salary for thinking? I mean, I understand the pressures of a job that needs me to come up with ideas on a regular basis. And I hate deadlines. I like freedom. I would suck at blogging if I had to write a column in a newspaper or something.

But thankfully I don’t get paid for writing this, you don’t get paid to read, but this system works, and beautifully so! :)

When I was young, a couple of times my father took me to buy shirts for me, he usually ended up buying really sober shirts. I am talking shades of grey, navy blue, bottle green and other such pastels. I hated not having a chance to wear sky blues, bright reds, yellows, light greens and other such attractive colours. I wasn’t a fair kid. I was dark and such colours didn’t suit me. Or so I was told. Yes, back then, dark didn’t signify sexy as it does today. I think it was around the 9th standard when I realised how attractive some women found tall, dark boys. I haven’t looked back since. Yes Yes.

Anyway, the point being, somewhere down the line, I became my father. My taste in things became defined by subtle. I remember when a friend of mine took us Sweater shopping (He had a car and he was tired hearing us non-Delhities complain about Delhi ki Sardi… Btw, it’s a serious issue and should not be used to write songs and such). While my friends tried on different sweaters, stylish ones, the ones with brand names on them, the ones with weird punch lines on them, I bought the simplest one available in the store. My friends exclaimed – Dude this is something your father would buy! They didn’t know my father’s taste. What they meant was, my taste in clothes wasn’t in line with a 24 year olds… It was more in line with a 55 year olds’
First I thought it was only clothes, only later I learnt, slowly but surely I was turning into my Dad. It wasn’t such a bad thing. Initially it was the clothes, then came the kind of car I wanted, the kind of friends I wanted to hang out with, then the kind of woman I wanted in my life…

Then I saw it – I had started appreciating CLASS.
CLASS. What is class? And what makes something classy?

I have spent hours thinking on this topic and this is what I have come up with – Class – If you don’t get excited by it the first time you see it, but are interested the right amount, if you don’t get bored by it the thousandth time you see it, but are still interested the right amount, it, my friend, has CLASS…

Yes, there. I know. Genius. You can sit down now. Yes, all of you. Please stop clapping. I don’t deserve it. Okay. Seriously.

I can extend it to anything and everything.

Let’s start with cricketers. Ladies, don’t stop reading you might like the guy I am talking about. The first time we saw Dravid back in 1996-97, we were interested. I was only 10 back then and since we had no cable TV at our place, had no idea of any series played outside India. There was this series being played in England if I remember correctly and Dravid had hit a century. I saw that match late in the night at my cousins’ place. Dravid had become my cousin’s favourite overnight. His exact words were – “dravid ki place pakki ho gayi next 10 saal ke liye.” Yeah, big words coming from a 10 year old. I couldn’t see it. He was good, but good wasn’t enough. My favourite was Mohd. Azaruddin. He was the captain. I figured the best player became the captain.

I am still not a Dravid fan. I think he gets too much attention from the fairer sex which I think is completely unwarranted for the quality of his looks. That makes me like him even less. Yeah, I am jealous like that. Cant help it. The point being even after playing for 15 years and after numerous jokes being written about his slow strike rate (I ll share the jokes below) I still find it interesting to watch him bat. There is something about his demeanour, the calmness, the strength… His strokeplay is flawless. He has CLASS.

Now the jokes –
How to kill a Lion?
Ans. Make him bowl to Rahul Dravid. He will make 1 run in 120 balls, the Lion will die of boredom.

Next one,
Who has the strongest teeth in the Indian team?
Ans. Rahul dravid. Kyonki who bahut ball khata hai.
Hah ha ha…. Lol.. I can go on and on but it doesn’t seem right making fun of someone who I just described as having class.

Movies have class. Just how many times have you guys seen Andaz Apna Apna and not gotten bored. Can you believe it wasn’t successful at the box office? I am sure people might had been interested, just not enough. But today, it’s a cult classic. Chupke Chupke is another favourite. Dharam paaji’s best performance I feel. Paaji toh aise bol raha hoon jaise mere behen unhe rakhi bandhti hai.

Even cars have class. I have always loved Mercedes in all its models, except the estate version. I think the Germans don’t do it justice when they buy the estate version – I mean seriously, it’s like a girl has beautiful legs but chooses to wear long skirts to hide them. (Many more objectifications coming up, feminists, don’t sue me) I cant think of a car that’s more subtle still makes as powerful a statement. I thought my fascination with Mercedes would end after I spend some time in Germany. Almost every third car in Germany was a Mercedes. Even Taxis were Mercedes for crying out loud. That should have ruined the image in my head right? That is what we were taught in our Branding class at MDI, gurgaon.

But it didn’t.

Even at the end of one and a half years, I still found cranking my neck to see a Mercedes drive by. This, after I have ridden in almost all models that Mercedes has to offer. I have been driven around in a C class, an E class, heck, I have also been driven around in a S class. Yeah, most of the last statement is to brag.

The point being, class just holds your imagination. It does something to the brain cells responsible for love and respect. Most advertisers will tell you, that is an awesome combination. So will most politicians and Kings of the yesteryears. (There is no practical way to ask the kings of the yesteryears. Most of them are dead and even if they aren’t they wouldn’t be interested to talk to us common people.)

Class can be attributed to cities too. Delhi enthrals anyone who lands at the T3 at Indira Gandhi Airport. The T3 is probably prettier than Paris Airport. You then take the escalator to the Airport express. The Airport express service in Berlin, London and Paris cant match the beauty of the Delhi Airport express combined (I know because I have used the service in all three cities). Then you take a taxi on the wide roads of Delhi continuously being amazed by the stop signs and the cycle tracks. Only to be disappointed by it’s public bus transport, lack of rules, cycle rickshaws, old Delhi, litter and lack of civic sense among people. Don’t get me wrong. I am one of those few native Mumbaities who really likes delhi. I love it for the freedom it gives me. But you will get bored of it. Very soon.

Mumbai on the other hand will piss off a tourist. What is so great about this city? It’s more than crowded, also dirty because of the exact same reason. The roads are patchy, the trains crowded, don’t get me started on traffic jams, it’s humid all the time and I don’t even get to see Shah Rukh Khan in spite of spending an entire afternoon at Bandstand. But once you spend time in the city, they city grows on you. And you fall in love with it. Very soon. That’s class.

Actresses have class. Well, some of them do.

How many times, exactly how many times must you have seen that black and white Madhubala poster. I remember a girl in our building had that poster in her living room and you could see it if the main door was open. I always sneaked a peek. I used to get a few glares from her father. If only I could tell him that it was the poster and not her daughter who caught my eye. I didn’t. Didn’t wanna hurt his ego.

Sonali Bendre. She has always been a favourite. Even pre-sarfarosh when her movies didn’t work much. Look at her now, she is still beautiful. A little plump, but beautiful. Class.

My boss in my German company was rather flamboyant, high flying executive. He was roughly my father’s age and had quite a few of his qualities. To be honest, I saw a bit of myself in him and I am sure he did too. I was amazed when I first met his wife. I don’t know why, but I had assumed that she would be, well, at least half as flamboyant as he was. She was as plain as they come. Then I thought what if I didn’t know my father, what if I worked in his firm and one day had a chance to meet his wife, my mother. Wouldn’t I be amazed to see how simple she was? I would!

What was going on? How did these flamboyant men end up with such simple wives?

My boss’ wife was lovely. She was simple, her clothes, jewellery, expensive, but only to the trained eye. She was warm and in a room full of people made me feel special. She was warm and welcoming. I could see why my boss, an Australian, fell for her, a German. I could see the similarities in my mother and her. What exactly was happening here?

I was talking to a fan the other day who is now a friend. She asked me if I have a list of qualities I would want in a girl. I do! I think all men like me do. I am sure if my dad, my boss and I had to make a list of qualities, we would end up with almost the same lists. The reason why I didn’t include any of my male friends is that I don’t think any of them has reached the same level of maturity as I have. Burn! No?

There was this German colleague of mine. She was one of the very few women I have certified hot in the first 5 minutes of meeting her. She wore spects and the fact that she was blonde and light eyed and everything helped matters. But once I got to know her, she got boring. The more I got to know her, the more boring she got. I had no idea what had changed. She was complicated, troubled, shallow and demanding. She probably lacked class.

She was the complete opposite of the kinda girl I wanted. I wanted a girl who you would easily miss in a crowd, but remember forever, if you were lucky enough that she would talk to you. She would be selfless, her happiness derived from giving. She would be beautiful, the kind that it makes your day just by looking at her. She would be calm, in the stormiest of storms. She would be caring, when the world doesn’t care. She would be the kind who makes the world a better place and makes this life worth living. She would… she would have class.

And I know there are boys reading this on their computers and wondering if there are any such girls out there and I say, maybe one on each continent. That seems about fair.

Such a good girl...

2011-09-15T19:17:00.005+05:30

He sat on the first bench. It was a special day. He wore a white shirt with big flowers on them. He hated that shirt. It made him look girlie. He wanted to buy a black shirt, but his mother thought he looked cute in white. To salvage his manliness, he wore black jeans. He thought it made him look grown up.

It was that age when guys want to look grown up. Girls can remain girls all their lives. Boys, they want to be men, the first chance they get.

The students looked at him in anticipation, for they knew, any moment now, he would be called in front of the class, the customary song will be sung and then, will come the best part of celebrating a friend's birthday.

"What chocolate will you give?" asked a bespectacled kid sitting behind him, clearly salivating at the idea.

"Melody." He said.

The bespectacled kid sniffed his nose. Karan Mehta, his father had a paper mill in south Mumbai. His birthday was last week. He gave one 5 star to everyone. In comparison, melody seemed, well, pedestrian. But he didnt care. He knew melody was her favourite. She had told him once. He looked at her. Was she looking? Did she think he looked handsome? She wasnt looking.

"Happy birthday," she said as he gave her the chocolate and shook her hand. "How old are you now?"

"Ten." He lied. He was only 9. He wanted to grow up soon, do grownup things. She looked so pretty. Her pink lips seemed so soft. People think boys are innocent when they are young. The truth is, boys are never really innocent. They always know their thoughts are dirty for their age. As they grow older, the thoughts keep getting dirtier.

He looked at her soft cheeks. He wanted to kiss her on her cheeks, like they show in old movies. But will she get pregnant if he kissed her? That's what happened in those movies. He checked his thoughts.

Such dirty thoughts. She was such a good girl.

Then they were 14. Boys wanted to go to Water Kingdom. They opposed the idea of Essel World. They went there as kids, they said. Water Kingdom was unseen, exciting. What was exciting was the opportunity to see their respective girlfriends in wet shirts. Those were simpler times. Being boyfriend-girlfriend meant you asked the girl if she wanted to be your girlfriend, and then spend the next year getting teased by your friends and avoiding each other.

She wouldnt go. She didnt like water much, or the idea of hormonal 14 year old boys staring at her body. What followed was the first lesson in bribery. He convinced her best friend to go. It wasnt easy. She wanted a SRK poster she had set her eyes on. It was overpriced considering SRK's looks and his acting prowess. She was in. And then he waited for the day.

She came out of the water in a black shirt and grey slacks. Those were simpler times, girls hadnt graduated to wearing anything that showed more than 35% of their skin. It gave passing percentage a whole new meaning. The shirt stuck to her newly developed bosom. The strap of her bra showed. It left a huge impression on his mind and somewhere else. Dirty thoughts.

"You look very pretty." He said. Thank God for testosterone. It does great things to a guy's confidence.

She smiled. She looked away. She hunched her back, trying to hide her assets. But the shirt hugged on to her wet boy. Thankfully.

Such dirty thoughts. She was such a good girl.

Then they were 19. The sea lashed on to the rocks. The sea mirrored what he felt for her. The unrest.

He wanted her. How much longer could he wait. He put his arm across her. Gently, pulled her to him. Her body was soft, soft but stiff. Her body wasnt in sync with her mind. They wanted different things. His grip firmed, and he pulled her gently towards him. She gave in. She placed her head on his shoulder. There was a nip in the air. She wore the green sweater he had gifted her. Green was her favourite colour.

She was so pure. So uncorrupt of all the things wrong in this world. She was so right.

He whispered in her ear-

"I will do bad things to you."

She smiled, only to realise it was wrong. It sounded wrong, bad, dangerous. But for some reason, it left her with a tingling feeling somewhere inside her. She looked away. If only she could fly away from him. If only he wasnt able to make her blush like that. If only he would kiss her.

He looked at her, then at the sea, lashing out on the rocks.

Such dirty thoughts. She was such a good girl.

Then it was that day after what seemed like ages. Where did she start and where did he end as they lay next to each other, sharing dreams, bodies and sweat. He played with her curls. She closed her eyes. He kissed her, playfully biting her.

"I told you I was going to do bad things to you."

"Yes. You did. You are a bad boy."

"And you are such a good girl"

"I love you."

This was the first time she had said it. Not that he had waited for her to say it. He had said it months ago, because thats how he felt about her. How did it matter if she was there yet or not?But it did. If it didnt, why would he feel richer today?

"You love me?" He asked. He wanted her say it again.

"Ever since the first time I saw you in that white floral shirt of yours. You were such a cute kid. And a liar, by the way."

"Liar?"

"Yeah. You werent 10. You were born in the same year as me."

"Why didnt you tell me all these years that you liked me?"

"And miss all the wooing you have done for me?"

"Excuse me! According to my records, it was you who was head over heels in love with me."

"Yeah. Right. That is why I had to distribute melody, bribe my friend with a SRK poster and gift me a green sweater."

"You knew?"

She nodded. Her eyes twinkling with mischief.

And he wanted to do bad things to her again.

Such dirty thoughts. She was such a good girl.

A city called Mysore

2011-09-01T13:11:00.005+05:30

I had the good fortune of living in Mysore for sometime. After a year and a half in Berlin, I was homesick, and in spite of Mysore not being my home, I felt like home here.

The first thing that I think about when I think Mysore, is pleasant weather.

I have a system to rank cities' worth living index. Let's call it the Arshatian City Life Index (I know, I can be more creative, but I am happy as long it has my name in it.)

After living in Berlin, 'living' in this context, means more than just going to college in the morning and parties in the night, 'living' here means being on the street with your packed bags, not knowing where to go. (For some reason, nobody would take us as tenants in Deutschland, wonder why! ). 'Living' means having half an Euro in your pocket and finding that everything on the menu, even coca cola, costs more than 1 Euro! After 'living' in Berlin and quick visits to London and Paris, coupled with hitch hiking through Eastern Europe (I know a post is due about my Euro trip, it's gonna be awesome), I have come up with a city life index to rank cities where I want to live most of my life.

So here goes :

Arshatian City Life Index Parameters (Weightage given in the brackets)

1. Weather (35%) : Weather is one thing that God or nature as you atheist pricks call it, gave you. No amount of GDP growth, centralised AC bathrooms or centrally heated garages are going to make it better. This is where Mysore scores all its points.

2. 24x7 ness (25%): By now, you must have realised I am making up these words, but really, if you know how cool 24x7ness is, you would know why this parameter is so important. I remember going out at 2 in the morning for a glass of milkshake when I was young. Yeah, that's Mumbai for you my dearies. Mysore scores very low on this parameter, though. Everything shuts down at 9 pm. It still does better than Berlin though. Except Falafel shops and clubs which are open all night long till the afternoon next day, everything else shuts down at 8!

3. Public transport (25%) : I am spoilt. I like to be taken from one place to another in a chauffeur driven rickshaw. I dont mind the bus either. I like trains too. This is one of the reasons why most American cities don't match up to the awesomeness that are European city. I don't get it. If Europeans built the US, how come they did such a bad job?

Mysore, like most Indian cities performs dismally. But it is still better than Gurgaon and Pune.

4. Exclusivity (15%) : In Berlin, you the firang! In India, you know how fascinating firangs are to the local folk? Indians are equally fascinating, if not more in Berlin. You have pretty girls come up to you and strike up a conversation...(Or maybe it's just me who's super handsome or something... yeah, we will go with that...) In London, there are more Indians on the roads than the English. I kid you not, there was a British soldier or whatever they are, you know the ones with red uniforms and that absurdly long hat? Yeah, that one was an Indian!

With my south actor looks (and weight) and a mustache to match, I was an insider in Mysore. Clearly it lost all it's 15% here.

There's nothing to see in Mysore or Bangalore for that matter. After you visit European cities, where everything is turned into a tourist spot by the Tourist authorities, you wonder how come such a thing never happens in India.

Anyway, given below are a few observations about Mysore:

* Sweater is all season wear. You will find people wearing sweaters in mid-May! Really, it made me ask one lady why she was wearing a sweater. She said - it's coldaaa.

The extra a's I gather were because of the extra cold, but later I found out that's how people here speak. And yes it does get incredibly cold in the morning. Even in Mid-may! (Europeans reading this blog, incredibly cold means 17 degrees in this country.)

* When people speak in a language you don't know, you talk to them in a language, you yourself arent too fluent in!

No seriously, whenever people started talking to me in Kannada (can't blame them, I had a mustache and south Indian actor looks) I shift to German. Not English, Hindi or Marathi, but German. This is how the conversation went when I once wanted to hire a rickshaw.

"Jayalakshmi puram?"

"Wokay"

"How much?"

"50."

"No. 30." (I can be quite a cheapstake.)

"Jayalakshmi Puram... far madi... naan orkunnai petrol badhai ho badhai... Pranab Mukherjee... nee papa parapo"

I bet he was talking gibberish, but I was bent upon saving 20 rupees. That's 1/3rd of a Euro, my european friends. Yes, I know you guys give away 3 Euros as a tip, but then that is why your GDP is falling and ours is rising. (Did I stoop too low?)

I shifted to German, as an instinct. I didnt do it on purpose. I swear -

"Aber, du musst petrol haben. Kanst du mir lift geben? Volkswagen. Das Auto. Audi. Vorsprung durch Tecknik."

He caught my bluff. He understood I was randomly naming car companies and their tag lines.

"No. 50 mean 50." He did a little twirl with his index finger in the air. I immidiately realised this was not a guy to be messed with. I gave him 50.

* Finding a place in Mysore can be tough. First you have to find a rickshaw driver who you think can speak broken hindi. Second you have to pronounce the name of the place you want to go right.

As an examples, all you north Indians reading this post, say "Kukrahalli Lake" 3 times. Do it in front of your south indian friends so that they can derive some pleasure out of it.

One you have pronounced the tounge twisiting name right, you are in for a treat as the driver tells you where it is.

"Sir, aap seedha jaana... Seedha matlab, straight-aaa. Fir dead end aana, dead end se left-aaa. Wahan pe ek bada building bolna toh, aapka building."

Go interpret.

* If you ask the locals for a place, they can be really vague.

"Anna, Gayathri Tiffin (an eatery in Mysore) kahan hai?"

"Gayathri Tiffin-aaa? Go straight-aaa, right mein ek bada tree hona. Wahan pe Gayathri Tiffin hona."

I went straight and found a big tree every 100 meters.

* The dasherra celebrations in Mysore are the best in the country. The streets are lit up, the palaces are lit up too. Due to this overspending by the Karnataga Govt. for a day, the rest of the year, the street lights are turned off to compensate.

* The filter coffee or "kapi" as they call it here, is the awesomest drink ever. Nothing pulls you up like a good cup of filter kapi. If only the Mysore govt decided to market it right, it would kick Nescafe's butt. Mysore makes Italy small. That is also because Karnataka is bigger in size.

At the end of my stay , I had begun to fall in love with the place. It was quiet, the weather was good, the food was good and the coffee, oh yeah.... It is a lovely place to retire. One part of me wants to buy a house there, the one with a front yard and a back yard. You know, some place where I could have a small garden, grow tomatoes and cauliflowers and chillies. A place where my grandkids could come visit. A place where I could spoil them rotten. Sound like I am getting old. And you know what, it's not that bad...

P.S. - I have been working on my second novel, that explains my absence... I will post an excerpt soon.. :)

Top 10 things that I will miss in Germany... Top 10 things that I will miss in India

2011-06-27T22:01:00.007+05:30

I know I have been missing from the blogosphere and guys who read me, all 3 of you, have been wondering where I am and when I will be back. Well, worry no more, your prayers have been answered.

While you have been praying for my heroic return, I had been writing my second novel. It is ready and kicking in my belly (Pregnancy metaphor!) waiting to conquer the world. So now that I am done with that, I return to what I liked doing the most. Blogging. so here goes ...

A friend's friend who just returned from the US to settle in India wrote about the top 10 things she misses about the US. That got me thinking, what do I miss about Germany. But the Indian that I am, what do I not miss about Germany too. So given below are the two lists.

What I miss about Germany:

1. German Bakery, which they call just "Bakery" in Germany.

"Bread has it's own taste, it has a special texture which depends on the grain used, the temperature of the oven, the time of the year," said a German friend of mine when I said "Bread is just Bread." She scolded me for being such a jerk and made me apologise to a loaf of bread.

Well, for Germans, bread is not just bread, it is a way of life. And I miss it more than anything else. Ah, those Mozzarella sandwiches, the Mozzarella warm from the warm bread just out of the oven, the cold lettuce, the tomato, the cucumber.... sigh....

2. Buses

So, how do you identify a over-developed country? Good roads? No homeless people? Good public transport? Right? Wrong!

All these things define only a developed country - a US, a Qatar or a Italy. An over-developed country is the one where the buses bend towards the sidewalk as you get down. Yes. They have so much money that they can make a bus BEND!

3. Extra Virgin olive oil

So what is Extra Virgin really? What are other olive oils? Just Virgin? And what about olive oils who have had sex? And what about the ones who have babies? What are they called? Mommy and Poppy Olive oil? And what if they have many babies? Extra Mommy and Poppy olive oil?

The point being, I love olive oil. In India, regardless of how much you pay to get that oil shipped, it just doesnt remain the same.

4. Red Wine.

"You-have-a-to-a-try-a-this," said my Italian friend pouring me a glass of red.

To be honest, I didnt think I would like it. I was hoping I wouldnt, considering the cost of these things. I had the first sniff, sipped it, made it cure for sometime in my oral cavity and yessss.... the thrill of strong Italian wine!!!

"How-do-you-like-a-this?" He asked.

"I-like-a-this-very-much-thank-you" I said. I had become Italian!! With just one sip!

I dont dig alcohol, and I dont understand why people go so crazy over it. Blessed with some phenomenal alcohol breaking genes, I have never gotten really drunk, I have never had a hangover and have always repented spending on booze the other day.

I have had some really exquisite wines in my life. Some of the bottles have cost more than 70 Euros, and all of them have changed me as a person. Okay, maybe not. But you get the point.

Whatever you do, dont spend money on French wine. I told a French friend of mine that french women might be pretty, but your wine is nothing to write home about. She got terribly angry with me. Don't say anything about french wine to a french person. They get mad.

If you are Indian your taste buds are used to a certain amount of tingling which the mild french wine just doesnt offer. There. I said it.

The smell of that Italian wine stayed with me forever. I have forgotten the taste, but I swear I can sometimes smell it when I think about it.

5. Blonde babies

God, they are cute. They are good enough to eat. I should know. Burp.

6. Berlin Summer

If you need any evidence that there is a God, and he is a man, you have to visit Berlin in the summer. The country has a winter that lasts 6 months and there are days when you look out of the window and it's like the end of the world. So any presence of Sun is an invitation for the women to show their legs. I have never seen so many near perfect legs together.

7. Wissen Bier

It is wheat beer. It is made out of wheat grain. It is smoooooooth. Beer is an acquired taste. I still havent fully acquired it and I dont think I ever will but Wissen Beer my friend, that is something different.

8. Falafel

If I had a Euro for every time I said - "Ein falafel bitte"

I had so many falafels in Berlin that I became 22% Falafel. I knew the names of the Falafel joints in the city and they knew my name. The Falafel servers were the best German teachers ever. Maybe that is why I speak with a turkish accent! Ah!

9. On-time travel

Okay, so I might be an Indian, but I am more of a Mumbaikar. India is nothing like Mumbai. In fact nothing is quiet like Mumbai. Trains run on time, buses are almost always on time, people dont turn up late for meetings... It is a special place. So, it's not that I am not used to on-time travel. But really, Germany's on time travel is something you could write a book on - for eg-

We were waiting for a bus.

Me: It is 3:43 and the bus is not here yet

Friend: Yeah, it is 3:46 in my watch. Kahan hai yeh bus?

Me: Teri ghadi fast hai?

Friend: No idea. Teri on time hai kya?

Just then the bus arrived and we got in. We quickly checked the timing in our watches. Mine said 3.44 and my friend's said 3.47. The bus was supposed to arrive at 3.41. So according to my watch, it was 3 mins late.

We came home and checked the time online. Turns out my watch was 3 mins fast and friend's watch was 6 mins fast. The bus was on time, our watches werent. We could have adjusted the time according to the bus! No how cruelly awesome is tht?

10. Smooth roads and Mercedes Taxis

Ah, the roads. I have written a very patriotic and moving post about a pothole in Berlin. Enough written.

The 3 pointed star... ah beauty. If I was a car, I would be a Mercedes SLR and I would marry a Mercedes C class and then we would have small Volkswagen mini kids (Dont ask me how two Mercedes give birth to a Volkswagen,it's complicated...)

***

What I missed about India in Germany:

1. Cheap food

The money I used to spend on eating out in Germany could have been used for nobler causes like feeding Rishi, Shammi and Raj Kapoor uncle ke families. Food is so cheap here. I convert everything into euros when I go out and I have a huge smile on my face when I pay the bill.

2. Cheap domestic help

Yeah, go ahead. Call me lazy. Call me a slave driver. (You shouldnt if you are white, because really, you were the slave driver!) But the truth is, doing household chores is no fun!

Now I have met women whose hobbies included cleaning the kitchen and the bathroom (thts one more thing I miss about Germany, meet interesting women!) but it's not my style. I have a simple funda - Life is about doing what u want when u want. *applause people*

I once calculated how much time I spent in a week cleaning my room. It came up to 4 hours in a week! Do you know how productive I could have been in those 4 hours? Okay, not much, but, I dont wanna do it! And I shouldnt have to spend half my salary on getting domestic help!

3. The weather (Mumbai)

This is true only for Mumbai. Okay, if you talk about the muggy weather, I ask you to name one city where you can land without checking weather.com and carrying extra sweaters! I cite, Delhi's +45 degrees of heat and Berlin's -15 degrees of cold and ask you to compare it with 25 degrees all the time in Mumbai land :)

4. Good veg food

The first week that I spent in Germany, I used to look at all foods with an eye of suspicion that comes after years of travelling in crowded trains with a full wallet (What? I have a rich dad?). Everything seemed to contain meat or fish or some other animal. And they dont even consider Fish as meat. Fish is considered vegetarian! How?

I went to a posh hotel in Paris once, ordered wine, over priced of course and French, of course, they bite if u ask for any other wine. They bit off a friend's small finger, it adorns the walls of that hotel now with a tag saying -'Attention sil vous plait, hand will be bite, if ask for other wine. French wine, best wine. C'est la vie.' So coming back to the point, the restaurant had a menu that ran into pages, but they had no vegetarian dish. Zero Veg dishes. I had to finally order odd tasting noodles with vegetables, for which i was overcharged because - "Monsieur, thees ees Chef's speciaaale noodles.."

5. Hindi movies

Downloading is illegal in Germany, okay I know it's illegal in most parts of the developed world, but there they actually enter ur apartment put you and your laptop in jail, which if u ask me, defeats the entire purpose. For all they know, i might be watching sitcoms on my laptop in jail

Now in India, I can watch Zindagi Milega Na Dobara on the big screen and feel bad about paying money for what I could have seen in Germany for free. Any movie that Farhan Akhtar acts in, should be declared tax free, and that money should be taken from Mr. Javed Akhar for giving birth to a boy who has no acting skills whatsoever and thinks he can act. (Arre, yeh toh review ban gaya!)

6. Rickshaw and taxi tht dont cost a bomb

You know how much a richshaw ride costs me in Mumbai? Rs. 11. That is 20 cents. And I reach my destination in one piece (Well, most of the times)

In Berlin, I had to think if I should take the taxi or not. Okay, agreed that all Taxis are Mercedes, but really, sometimes i just want to get from place A to place B without spending my month's salary on the travel.

7. Air conditioners

In the birth place of Mechanical engg, how come they dont have Air conditioners installed anywhere. In berlin, you can sometimes sweat to death. Fyi, Summer Max temp in Berlin is more than that in Mumbai. There are gang wars in Berlin on which gang will get to use the table fan. Many die every summer.

The thing I love about India is, every big shop has an air conditioner and they do not cost a bomb so most of your engg friends can also afford it, making it logical to remain frds with them.

8. 24x7 transport

Mumbai again. See, how this post became what I miss about Mumbai from what I miss about India? That's how cool that city is. Well, not cool as in cold, it's quite humid that way.

You can get from point A to point B in Mumbai at 3 in the morning. You dont have to book cabs on phone or anything. just walk out on to the street and hail a taxi. Trains work round the clock. They say they shut down for 1 hour sometime, I am yet to find what hour. Note: There is a fair chance you wont get a place to sit in the train, unless you board it during non-rush hours, which again I have told is for 1 hour sometime, I am yet to find what hour.

9. Sunday open

This is only for the troubled souls who have spent time in one the better European country like Germany or France, you know, countries who place a lot of importance on silly and useless things like quality of life.

Sunday, everything is closed that includes malls, departmental stores, drug stores, after all the cashiers at the counter need their rest. It can get very tiring - counting money, opening drawers, returning change, closing the drawer.

Here, in mumbai, (I have quit talking bout India, I have a awesomer place to talk about.) everything is open 24x7x364 (15th August is a holdiday)

10. Friends and Family

Yeah, the sensitive guy that I am, I had to include this. It was either this or "Desh ki mitti ki khusboo" (Which is a real thing, btw).

I missed my friends and family when I was in Germany. I remember thinking about my friends and saying to myself - 'They werent all that bad, eh?'. And I missed my sister the most. I have realised there are so many inside jokes that we share. Some of our jokes are single syllable which only we can understand among ourselves... And I am sure my friends miss me, I mean, seriously, how many awesome mes are there in India? And my sister definitely missed me - she said so once every 3 months, which going by her fake pride means she missed me every 3 days. And why not, my parents dont understand any of her jokes! They give her pity laughs! Pity laughs, my friends!

So that is that. Now that I have showed my sensitive side to you, your heart must be full and your eyes must be watery. I know you must want to pour your heart out to me, to tell me how much u missed me while I was gone. To that I say, wipe your tears, and let it pour in the comments...

Till then... Ich sagt, Gesundheit!

10 real dumb things to do in Mumbai

2011-06-26T12:47:00.003+05:30

I was wondering what dumb things can one do in Mumbai. I dont know why I was wondering about it. I guess, I have too much free time. So here is a list of 10 really dumb things to do in Mumbai. If you have done dumber things, please mention it in the comments.

1. Take S.V road near Andheri or Tulsi pipe road on a weekday between 8.30 am to 10.30 pm. One summer afternoon, I took an autorickshaw from andheri Station to my college at SP via S.V. Road. It took me 30 minutes to cover 200 meters on S.V. road. I got down from the rickshaw after 30 minutes, walked 600 more meters and reached my college.

There will be a day when people will meet on S.V. Road, get married, have children and die all on S.V. Road.

2. Take the Virar fast from Dadar when you have to get down at Andheri.

I once took it, and repented it for the rest of my life. When I wanted to get out at Andheri, I asked a bhaiyya standing in front of me -

"Bhaiyya, Andheri utarna hai kya?"

"Arre yeh Virar train hai, ismein Andheri mein utarna mana hai..."

When girls in germany would ask me if I ever got in a fight, I would think about that day and say - yes.

And yes, I did get down at Andheri.

3. Call any marathi guy a "bhaiyya". All around India, "bhaiyya" stands for big brother. It is respectful way of addressing someone. But not in Mumbai. Not in Mumbai.

4. Riding a bike without a helmet. YOU.WILL.GET.CAUGHT.

5. Not stopping at a red signal. While all over India, it's accepted to break traffic rules, they are taken very seriously here in Mumbai. Dont do it.

6. Going to see Lalbaug's Raja on the 10th day of Ganpati. The line outside is so long it goes on for miles. It is crazy. Children get lost, some get interchanged, it's all good.

7. Say bad things about Sachin Tendulkar while travelling in a local train. You will get BASHED, thrown out of the train etc.

8. Asking a cabbie or a rickshaw - "Bandra jaaneka hai.. kitna lega?" He wont charge you more but you might get a curt reply - "Mumbai mein naya aayela hai kya?"

This is the only city in India in which the cabs run on the meter. THE ONLY CITY.

9. Asking - "What is that smell?"

Well, every area here smells of something. The air here is composed of 50% Nitrogen, 15% Oxygen and rest 25% is the smell. It can be anything from rock salt, burning tyres, decaying vegetables, or just good old body odour. Mostly it is a mixture of it all. So dont ask "What is that smell?" There is no right answer to it.

10. Not bargaining with the guys at hill road and fashion street. You HAVE to bargain. If you dont want to bargain, go to a mall to buy stuff. Or, get ready to pay 900 Rupees (15 Euros) for a pair of boxer shorts.

So that's my list. What is your list?

That piece of brick...

2011-06-16T17:27:00.003+05:30

Short Story

It was a cold November afternoon. The year 1989. I was 19 years old. My friends and I were walking down the streets of Berlin with sledgehammers. Walking alongside of us were so many others like us.

I am German. No, I am not 6 feet 4 inches tall and I am not blonde with blue eyes. It is just an image that the Americans have propagated of the Germans. I look like any other European or American, for that matter. I am 6 feet tall and I have dark brown hair and light brown eyes.

I was born in East Berlin. I grew up here. And there was a time when I thought I would die here. I never thought a day would come when I would be able to cross the wall and step onto the western side of Berlin. I had heard it was sparsely populated. I had heard that there were rich people who lived in those parts. They had enough to eat. I had heard.

Who would have thought the communist model would fail so miserably? Everything seemed so right about communism. After we lost the war and were divided into pieces, I dont think any of us were particularly worried about being on the communist side of Berlin. I mean, even if things got worse, we could easily walk over to the other side and start a new life. It was afterall the same country. We, on this side were Germans, as were the folks on the other side.

My father was a staunch communist. It wasnt a derogatory term then as it is now. Actually, if you were 20 and werent a communist, you didnt have a heart. I say, if you are 30 and are still a communist, you dont have a brain. Communism is good, only if you arent human and are untouched by greed. Capitalism is the naked truth. It accepts us for what we are. Greedy little swines. We dont have to put up an act. Capitalism serves us right. Not that it's a permanent solution, as you will see.

My father was such a strong supporter of the communist government that he offered help to build up the Berlin wall. He was 19 years old then. The same age as I was on that cold November afternoon of 1989. Youth back then was so confused. I wonder, if we were any better and I bet our kids at 19 would be more messed up that we are. My father helped build a section of the wall near Checkpoint Charlie. My mother used to tell me that he was mighty proud of it. He really wanted East Germany to flourish. "Communism is the right way" he used to say. But then you cant be that stupid all your life. In the summer of 1971, only weeks after I was born, he tried jumping the Berlin wall, right over the section of the wall that he had helped build.

He was shot by a Russian sniper.

And that was that. If you ask me, I rather be dead that stupid all my life. My father died a smart man's death.

My mother, a qualified German teacher would get paid only as much as the Janitor in the school. It frustrated her. In those days, German as a language was losing its sheen. The Russian Govt. wanted the kids to learn Russian. The lack of importance to her mother language made her bitter. She had never been a Communist. If you ask me, she has never been anything. She doesnt feel the need to join a group to be recognized. She doesnt really love anything, except a green sweater that her mother made for her. She doesnt hate anyone. Not even the communist government. The only thing she hated from the bottom of her heart was the Berlin wall. It took away her husband. The Wall first flirted with their hopes and then crushed them.

I didnt see the wall till I was 15 years old. My mother had forbidden me from seeing it. She said it was evil. It was tainted with the blood of millions of Germans and of my father. It was only when I was in the marching band in our school that we had to pass through Checkpoint Charlie and I got to see the wall. It was all bricks and stone. It had graffiti all over it with words like - Freiheit (freedom).

And now we were walking towards the Wall, sledgehammers in hand - to claim exactly that - Our Freiheit.

***

I came back home that night. I opened the door and entered the living room. My mother was sitting in her chair knitting a woolen cap for me.

"I am sorry," I said. She looked up at me. "I am sorry, I went to see the wall when I was 15. And I went there today."

She kept looking at her once obedient son, finding reasons for the disobedience.

I kept a piece of brick on the table next to her.

"The Wall is no more, mother."

Tears swelled up in her eyes. All the pain, the hate, found their way out.

The End.

Dedicated to Antonia Kaul, Hillena Einfeld, Matt Gottwald, Thomas Pallien and all my German friends.

Those 5 minutes...

2011-05-15T22:09:00.007+05:30

She stood alone on the crowded Mohammad Ali road... Where did he go? Maybe he was thirsty and went to get a drink... But he could have stayed put in one place at least till she got back... Now she was angry... She didnt spend much time adoring that kurti at display in the window... Pretty things catch her eye. That was probably her only handicap... She could not resist pretty... And now he was gone.

1 minute.

She kept looking for him.. doing 360 degree turns all over... all she saw were people... There are so many of them in this country, she thought... And still her heart goes out to one boy... And he cant even stay put in one place.... What was he - a 5 year old?

Why does she miss him so much? How did she fall so much in love with him, that his absence would make her feel so alone... Or was she worrying... Worrying about him? But he is not a 5 year old - in spite of the way he behaves around her... She knew he was known to the city as much the city was known to him... He could not get lost, or could he?

She saw a constable dressed in khakhi buying a glass of chai outside a tea stall... Should she ask him if he could find him? Would he laugh at her?

He wouldnt get lost now, would he? He will find his way back home... But was it him she was worried about? Or was it herself... She was left alone in the middle of a crowded street... She knew the way back home... She knew should would reach home safely.. then why the worry?

The noisy street started to turn quiet... No noise could reach her eardrums or maybe the eardrums failed to send the vibrations to her brain which was now heavy with worry...

What should she do?

2 minutes.

Some maulvis passed by her after their evening prayer...What could she do? Go ask the maulvis? What would them holy people know! Who could she ask? There was a boy selling mango juice... He must have seen him... but he seemed so busy mixing the juice with his ladle!

Ah... he is so stupid... If he is hiding behind one of these shops, she will punch him in his stomach, she thought...

3 minutes.

The first drop made its appearance in her eye... She was helplessness.

He tapped on her right shoulder and stood next to her left side, while she turned right expectedly, only to find him standing on her left....

Anger... Hate... Relief... Love... All this for him. Stupid boy.

"I am sorry," he said.

He had an apologetic smile stuck on his face. She looked at his smile. She so wanted to punch him , but God, she loved his smile.

4 minutes.

It was a joke! Why did she have to be so worried about it! Silly girl. Worries so much. He shouldnt joke around with this sweet girl. How much he hated seeing her cry... Why would she cry? Did she think he left without taking her with him? Of course not... She knew it was joke... didnt she?

"I was worried," she said with a stream of tears flowing down her cheeks.

She was worried. When was the last time someone had been so worried about him. She cared for him. She was scared of losing him. She wanted him too. Her stream of tears brought a wave of satisfaction with them for him. He meant something to someone.

"I just left for 4 minutes," he said using reason to justify.

That is it? 4 minutes? It seemed so much longer. She looked at her watch. Yes. Only 4 minutues.

She worries so much. Why is that attractive? How he wanted to take her in his arms, console her... Should he, in a crowded street like this? Would she be comfortable? Was he thinking about someone else's comfort? Since when did he start doing that... Should he hold her hand? Maybe he should... He liked her... He could hold her close to him... It is okay... So many people brushed past him... On a crowded street, where unknown people come too close for comfort, it was considered wrong to hold your girl close to you... This whole country is an oxymoron of sorts...

When he looks at her, why does it become so uncomfortable for her. He made her so concious of herself. His look could pierce everything.

He held her hand... She was the only one on the street that probably had around 6000 people about 10 seconds ago. The shops disappeared.. The shopkeepers were gone... The street transformed... Now it was just an empty street... Her big brown eyes... Her dark long hair... Her soft hand...Did HE who made her fall in love with her too? An empty street... It got quiet...

He held her hand... Why is he holding her hand... There are so many people around them... They all seem to be watching... What if someone sees them... Is it wrong? But this is a street... The way he looks at her... He seems to be calm... Doesnt he get scared? What would she give to get him scared like he did to her just 5 minutes ago... His smile can make him get away with murder, cant it? An empty street... It got quiet...

"I love you," he said, "I guess, I always have... always wanted to tell you..."

"I love you too," she said,"what took you so long?"

It stayed quiet in the empty street, when slowly, the 6000 people started to return... starting from the end of the street... Soon their noise filled the street... The shops re-appeared...

5 minutes

Those 5 minutes...

What really is PGPIM at MDI, Gurgaon?

2011-05-09T12:58:00.001+05:30

Everywhere I go, I have been asked this question - What the hell is PGPIM at MDI, Gurgaon?

How do you end up in ESCP after enrolling this course?

How do you get to work in HeadQuarters of Fortune 500 companies?

Why do you have so many pretty girls in your FB friend list?

Why are you so awesome?

How are you so awesome?

Well, this post will answer all the above questions, well, most of them anyway...

I have juniors, to-be juniors, their cousins, peers from other colleges ask me how does PGPIM work exactly? (IM stands for International Management, PGP stands for.. umm.. I dont remember :P). Well let me tell you how to get into this amazing program, the pros of getting in, the cons, the foreign trips etc.

I would like to mention that I am doing a great service to that zealous junior who handles all the posts on pagalguy.com (there is a humongous thread on PGPIM on PagalGuy, I dont think any other prog has been discussed in so much detail). I am also doing a great service to the Corp Communications cell in MDI, who have absolutely no idea on how to market this gem of a product.

So now coming to the main business of this post - What is PGPIM?

PGPIM is the International Management prog of MDI which is by miles, the toughest course in the country. Yeah, IIMs can take a hike... Compared to what we do, they are Alice in Wonderland.. (students are referred to as Alice, IIM being the wonderland)

The course is divided in two stages. The first stage is here in India at MDI's as-beautiful-as-a-French-girl campus. It lasts for 8 months. These 8 months will be the toughest in your life. These 8 months wont let you sleep for more than 5 hours per night, and that is NOT after watching 4 seasons of How I met your mother and 2 hours of gupshup with friends, this is after attending 9 hours of lectures, 4 hours of assignments and 3 hours of studying for surprise tests etc. There were days when I had to think if I should take a bath or sleep for 20 minutes. Invariably, sleep won. I apologize to all my classmates for the smell.

The course starts in June, along with the normal management PGPM (I make them sound so lowly, but if you spend some time in an IM class, you ll know what I am talking about) and the girly HR batch.

The firangs from the five ESCP campuses join us in July. The course in India, or stage 1 as I have called it ends in February with the firangs swearing that they wont take any course in India again just coz the competition is so damn fierce, but at the same time marveling at the amazing quality of the MDI professors. Indian students on the other hand look 5 years older than what they used to because of the strenous programme. IM students probably dont love MDI as much at PGPM or HR guys, and if you think about it, IM guys spend only 1/10th of the time other batches spend loitering in the mess or Nescafe or the dome, they fall in love with their batch-mates and not the college campus (in spite of its beauty and everything). I can tell you stories of when the Indian students stood up for the foreign kids and vice-versa and it will make you feel amazing, in spite of the fact that it had nothing to do with you. Thats how awesome the class unity was during our time.

After 8 months of learning in MDI, team work, stretching oneself to the limit, comes the easy part - Foreign study. For the lucky ones among you, you will get Paris or some other girly campus. For the unlucky ones, you will be thrown into the berlin campus - the only campus in ESCP which can talk of being tough.

ESCP has 5 campuses - Berlin, Paris, London, Madrid and Turin. London has been closed to Indian students due to visa issues and also coz their Government is freaking stupid! (How can you not allow Indians from among the best B schools in India!) In their defense, top Indians have taken away their jobs!

The degree you get from MDI is called PGPIM and the one from ESCP is called MEB. Yes, it is a dual degree course! MEB stands for Master of European Business. Berlin also offers MSc which is a govt. recognized degree. It was free during our time but now I guess they charge for it. So, you gotta check out whats the current stat on that.

You are done with your MEB by the end of July. If you choose to do the Msc then you are done by September. But after you have accumulated the degrees comes the best part of the whole course - Also the reason why I put PGPIM at MDI, Gurgaon above all other colleges in India, including the IIMs (they are more ordinary than you think) excluding ISB though, their prog sounds almost as strong as PGPIM.

And that reason is an international internship and by international I mean international in the real sense! I worked for Bayer, World Head Quarters. I was in a 3 member team that was responsibe for the #1 branded antibiotic in the world. There are bio companies in India which make less money as a company than we made with 1 brand!!!

My boss was Australian, my team mates, British and German. I was the youngest guy on the whole floor, that just goes to show how much one has to work till they made way on this floor! I got in through with just 3 master degrees in my kitty!

No other B-school in India could have given me this opportunity. The IIM kids who go to work in Investment banks in London usually end up making ppts and printing out copies. (I am suspecting an anti-defamation case by IIM, but even they know I am not lying).

My stay at Berlin, where I stayed for more than a year, also allowed to make friends with not only people who came from the same educational background as mine, but I also got to be friends with a German rapper, an ice-hockey player, a professional marathon runner, etc. There is something to learn from each of them. The learning just cant be compared to what I would have had I stayed in the MDI campus. Though, that wouldnt have been too bad either.

Now coming to the cost aspect - If I take into consideration what I spent and what I earned in my internship, I ended up spending 2 lakh more than my PGPM peers. However for the ones who ended up doing a exchange prog for 3 months, spent almost as much I did, without the same level of learning of course!

Now, the most important part - The reason why you are doing an MBA in the first place - the money, honey! Yes, foreign placements are possible. Rare, but possible. But it just depends if you wanna stay in Europe or not. If you come from one of the awesome cities in India (there is just one, and we all know what city I am talking about), Europe can be a little tough to adjust. But if you have burnt your boats back home, and are ready to slog it out, European dream can turn into a reality.

Lets say you dont get to work in Europe, you can always come back to India and sit for placements along with PGPM guys. Now here lies a small problem. The guys in MDI dont push PGPIM as much as they push PGPM (and I dont care if placecomm sues me, they know what I am saying is true) and the trouble with that is, the companies just dont know what we are all about.

The day I signed up for placements, I knew all I had to do was attend one interview and I couldnt be rejected. My CV is quite a gold mine! The problem with that is though, unlike Europe, here you have to clear horrible GDs and you are up against PGPM guys who have quite a way with them as they have given 10 GDs each during their summers while we got internships in Europe through pure interviews only. Anyway, once you clear even one GD, you get through the first interview you give. It happened with 90% of the IM batch, yours truly included.

Hmm... I think I have said all that I wanted to. For some reason I think I have made more enemies than friends with this post.. But then, what good is all this education if it doesnt make you a little more courageous than you were!

P.S. - I might not answer all the questions you direct at me, but if I have forgotten to mention something about the course or you would like to know more, drop a question in the comments...

P.P.S. - If you have got in, dont even think about any other course -There is just no other like this one. Come with a Arshat Chaudhary seal of quality man!

I have seen Vinod Kambli cry...

2011-03-31T17:40:00.006+05:30

I have seen Vinod Kambli cry. Not like grown men cry when they lose someone important in their life, but like children do, when they feel helpless and confused and frustrated...

More than 15 years have passed since that Semi-final in Eden Gardens in World Cup 1996. But those images refuse to leave me. The image of Kambli crying. The image of the stands at Eden Garden burning. The image of glass bottles littered on the ground. The image of the Ranatunga leading his men off the ground.

As kids, I remember, the only sport we followed was cricket. Kids those days didnt follow football or F1. Most of us didnt even know what FIFA stood for. For us, there was only one sport that mattered - Cricket.

I was 11 when 1996 World Cup was played in India, Sri Lanka and Pakistan. You didnt learn the significance of this event till you saw men standing outside Electronics stores, standing on their toes to get one glimpse of the batsman. You didnt realise the importance of the World Cup till you heard your male friends talk about the last match, very much like their fathers did with their friends, singing praises of the players if India won and completely degrading them if India lost!

I remember asking my father if India had ever won the World Cup. I dont know if you remember, but for some reason, we had very little faith in our players back then.It was that era when Indians didnt deem India good enough to win any major sporting competition. I was pleasantly surprised when I learnt that we had..Kapil Dev's men had.. So did that mean we could do it again? Of course we could! And we were playing at home!

Then came the quarter finals of India vs. Pakistan. You thought Wednesday's game was awesome? Wait till I tell you this -

Have you, in all the matches you have watched, seen an umpire ask a batsman to ask the crowd in the stands to keep noise levels down coz he cant hear the stump mic? Well, I have. The batsman was Ajay Jadeja! He went hitting the Paki bowlers out of the park and the crowd went crazy, so much so, the noise levels didnt allow the umpire to hear the stump mic! Jadeja had to walk up to the stands and request them to shut the hell up! How cool, just how cool, is that!!!

We went into the semi-finals hoping to thrash Sri-Lanka out of the tournament. We believed we could do it. It had been 2 World Cups since we last won. We thought we could win. Only, we didnt win....

I have such a clear memory of that match in Eden Gardens... The one we lost to Sri Lanka.

I dont know why I remember it so clearly. Maybe it is because it was my first heart-break. Maybe it was because I had learnt that cricket players, the ones whom we saw hit humongous sixers out of grounds the size of our school campus, while we at age 11 couldnt even connect bat to ball properly, were after all human. They felt hurt and helpless just like we did when we got a poor score in Math.

I have such a clear memory of that fateful match...I even remember the commentary. I remember Srinath got Jayasurya and Kaluwitharna out cheaply. I remember the hindi commentator exclaiming "Aaj toh Javagal srinath ball nahi, aag ke gole barsa rahe hain!" At home we rejoiced. The two danger men were out cheaply. Only to be undone by a strong partnership between Arvind D'Silva and Ranatunga.

But we still thought we could win that match. After all, we had Sachin in the team. And then I remember during the 24th over when wickets were falling all around him the commentator said - "He's trying, he's trying hard.. But this is a big ground and he is a small man..." The fact that small man has now close to 100 centuries in One dayers is another story.

I remember how the Indian supporters turned against Indian team all in a matter of hours. A section of Eden Gardens started throwing glass bottles on the ground & burning down the wooden seats.

Vinod Kambli had come in to bat at no.5 and he had seen his team mates depart on what was turning out to be a mine-field of a wicket... He had hung in there for an hour or so scoring around 10 runs or so... It was impossible that India would win. The crowd in Eden Gardens couldnt take that defeat well...

The umpires called the game off and Ranatunga lead his team off the ground. Vinod stayed behind hoping that the crowd will give him one last chance. But the rioting didnt stop. As he walked back to the pavillion, alone, he burst into tears.

I was just 11. I had never seen a grown man cry before. You were made fun of and called names if you cried in front of your friends, and here Vinod was, crying in front of a live crowd. His team mates in the dressing room saw him, his friends must have been watching him on TV, his parents must have seen him... He cried in front of the nation.

Heroes shouldnt cry in front of their fans... It makes the fans realise how ordinary their heroes are, how human.

Vinod's career after that match was rather uneventful. He had a forgettable average. He was dropped from the team soon and then soon, he gave up cricket.

***

Come saturday we will face the Lankans again. Only this time, we wont lose. 15 years have passed since that semi-final. Now, it's our time.

We are going to win the world cup 2011.

I am not being cocky. I am just telling you what fate has in store for us.

It would be unfair to not grant Sachin his World Cup. It would be unfair to Sourav Ganguly after all the work he put in to make this a world champion. It would be unfair to Dhoni after the leadership he has shown. It would be unfair to all Indians who are born after 1983, for they havent seen an Indian lift the World Cup. It would be unfair for those 50 year olds, who were 25 when Kapil Dev lifted the World Cup and have been waiting ever since to see the Indian team win the cup again.

It would be unfair if India didnt win. It is no longer about which team played better cricket on that day. It is about destiny.

And our destiny, is no longer, a matter of chance...

UPDATE: Indians have WON the World Cup 2011!!! (02 April 2011)

The Screwdriver : The awesomeness of youth

2011-03-11T21:05:00.008+05:30

I was a good kid. Really was. And then a good teenager. My parents must have been really proud of me or something. I think the problem with being a good kid is that you start seeing yourself as the world sees you.

Engineering like other professional courses, if done properly, ends up teaching you more about life than about the subject itself. It pushes you to your limit, makes you realise that you might be the best in the city, but stand 15th in your class coz all 14 of them are the best in the city! It is not a good thing for a 20 year old's ego.

I first heard "The Sunscreen song" when I was 20 years old and in the 2nd year of Mechanical Engineering.

I was undergoing a very difficult phase. I think the process of becoming a man from a boy is always a difficult one. No, it is not a physical or a hormonal process. You could be 35 and still be just a boy. This process is tougher, it's emotional, but once you are through, there is nothing quite like it.

Everyday, through Facebook messages and fan mails, I have 20 year olds, not very unlike the way I was, asking for advice about how they could get their girls back or how difficult their jobs are or how confused they are regarding a career choice they have to make. I wish I could answer all their emails and offer them advice, in spite of the fact that I am as ordinary as they come and dont have much experience in life and such compared to what their parents, siblings, friends would have, I do wanna help.

The Screwdriver.

As a young boy, I watched my Mechanical Engineer father fix a broken hinge or a loose compartment door with just a twist of a Screwdriver. Screwdriver fixes everything. No tool box is complete without a screw driver.

If I can offer you one advice for the future, Screwdriver would be it.

I am going to dispense that advice - Now.

Enjoy the awesomeness of your youth, even if youth to you means studying 12 hours a day, commuting to college, attending boring lectures, bruised hearts and itchy pimples. You will look back on these years, sitting on the swivel chair in your office, looking out of the window, sipping coffee...... And feel proud of yourself.

Take time to set your beliefs and form your opinions. Then work hard to defend them. All this while keeping allowances, for they might not be all correct.

Sing.

Even if you don't like your voice. Even if others dont. Bathrooms were designed to make you better singers and nobody has to know.

Don't be jealous of people around you who you think have got it all... When you get to know them better, you realise they dont! Their lives are only as perfect as yours and the millions around you. If you learn to do this, tell me how.

Love.

Love someone... even if you hate the world... love at least one person & when you do, do so with everything you got... It's not love if it doesnt take everything you got.

Spend some time on a beach or a hill. You will realise you probably arent as important as you thought!

Make somebody smile each day.

And when you find that smile you want to spend your life with, let them know...

Do get married.

In spite of what the divorce rates in your country tell you, In spite of what your divorced friends tell you... if you want someone for life, make them yours...

Do NOT sign pre-nuptials, it is the worst thing you could do to yourself.

Understand that money brings freedom to you, but making money needs you to give your freedom away.

Be minimalistic in the way you live your life. Buying many things or too many things you dont want, will make you give up a lot of things you will need in the future. If you don't understand this statement, dont worry, everything will be alright...

Everything is alright. In spite of the 70 year olds who keep telling you that its not. Dont worry, you will be 70 one day and feel the same. But till you reach that age - Everything is alright.

Write.

Even if you cant throw a sentence together. Write something for someone - even if it's a thank you note for the old lady at the bakery.

Support the underdog in a fight. The stronger competitor has fans. All the underdog's got is your support!

There is no better feeling in the world, than proving the world wrong. Prove the world wrong. Time and again.

Put trust in yourself. And then work hard to keep it.

Don't be scared to be alone. That is the only time you will get to learn more about yourself.

Understand that your salary, like other unimportant things in your life like your high school scores, is just a number.

Don't watch porn or Do watch porn.

Either way, know that porn, like a Tarantino movie - has no class and no hint of reality to it.

Nature has a plan for you. Be smart enough to decipher it. Go turn off the light in the living room. Now.

Spend some time away from the cities in the open world. It will do you a world of good.

Run.

If you are ashamed to, run behind a bus, acting like you have to catch it. If the bus stops, quietly walk away. There will be another day, another bus.

Remember the compliments, forget the criticisms. However, dont let either change who you are!

Don't feel bad if something that you worked hard for didnt pan out. If this didnt, something else will. I can't tell you what, but something...

Laugh, out loud. (Don't let it be just an internet acronym)

Listen to your parents. Respect their wisdom. But take your own decisions and be man enough to stick by them. Take responsibilty of the consequences.

Love your parents. Love your siblings. They are a lot like you and you will miss them when you dont get to see them everyday.

Believe in Karma. The world is a system that works according to rules. In 25 years of my life I have realised that Karma is definitely one of them.

Dont be heartbroken by failure, in love or life... Learn from it and know that success wont taste so sweet if it wasnt for the failures.

Have kids. Cute ones. Know that biological clock that's ticking? It was put there for a reason.

Live in suburban Mumbai once, learn first hand why there is nothing like it in the whole wide world... But leave once you start falling in love, for you wont be able to live anywhere else... Live in Old Delhi once, you will know why it's awesome to be Indian.

Everything that's good and bad in this world is due to ego. Only if we could learn to use it better.

Look at your best friends through the years, try to find what traits were common in them - you will end up knowing yourself better... If you have had the same best friend through the years, know that you are very lucky.

Dont be ashamed if you are 20 and dont know what to do with your life - You have such thoughts when you think you can do everything, but just cant decide what you wanna do. Dear 20 year old, rejoice, for you will do well in life.

Advice is almost always autobiographical, only, it's more optimistic than the autobiography itself. Be careful as to whose advice you buy. But be patient with the ones who supply it.

But whatever you do, keep a screwdriver in your toolbox.Trust me, Screwdriver fixes everything!

-Arshat Chaudhary

__________________________________

Dedicated to all the early 20 year old followers of this blog, my facebook fans and everybody who is young and going through a crisis. Trust me, It ll be alright.

10 things that changed India in the last 10 years: 2000-2010

2011-02-23T17:05:00.000+05:30

Welcome to the New Decade...

As a kid I used to love New Year eve... It was one of those days when you could spend all night being awake - all night meaning 12.30 am. There would be these comedy programs on DD-1, some of them were really good. Good times those were - we were young, fireworks were limited to Diwali and even DD-1 had good programming.

Things change in every decade. Especially in a country like India.

The 1990s saw reforms being brought in. IT companies sprang up. Graduates out of Engineering colleges lapped up jobs like never before... at salaries that made grown men cry. Shahrukh Khan became a sensation. It became acceptable that a young girl in India could have SRK's poster in her bedroom. Days of hiding Rajesh Khanna or Rishi Kapoor's photos in thick Chemistry journals were over. Owning a Computer was a big deal. Most of us hadnt seen a laptop. A generation used to cars like Fiat and Ambassador was warming up to Hyundai Santro. The Indian cricket team was same old same old... Match fixing allegations, losing matches abroad on a regular basis, giving up on the match 10 overs before the last ball was bowled - typical.

I know 15 year olds are reading this and wondering what the hell I am talking about!

The decade of change : 2000-2010

I was 15 back in 2000. Things were changing. Not just in the world but also with me. I was loosing interest in WWF sports cards and gaining interest in girls. I was almost six feet then and facial hair was there to stay.

I was also pissed off on a couple of my friends who told me that the world would end in 2000. I was pissed off at all those people at Aaj Tak (It was just a short news program on DD back then) who kept talking about the Y2K. I also have to kick the butt of all those guys at "Beyond 2000" a show on Discovery channel about how things would change in the new millennium - None of that happened... What a bummer!°

Anywhooo... Talking about the 10 things that changed us, changed India -

1. Orkut:

Yes, Orkut and not Facebook changed the way India made "Frands"... Finally here was a platform were even Engineers could make female friends. The best thing about Orkut was the privacy and the lack of it - You could be a real perv and check out the photos of that hot girl from school. You could keep a track of what your school friends have been accomplishing - Have they grown fat or Bald or have they joined a gym and have a semi-naked photo as their profile pic?

I am not too fond of anything new. So, when my friends had been lining up to click photos with the camera phone (the, and not 'a' camera phone, because there was only ONE cam phone in the class back then!) I was satisfied not being socially active.

But then I did become socially active and how! I have had my fair share of orkut addiction. I am thankful to Orkut for bring back some of the closest friends I had back in school. I have to thank them specially for one such friend, but then, that is a subject of a different post.

Orkut is dead now. Only people in Tier 3 cities like upcoming Indore and Vishakhapatnam use Orkut. The world has moved on to Facebook.

I have a 13 year old friend who is on Facebook or FB as they call ot. I asked him if he knew what Orkut was - and he gave me a blank look! I can now definitely say I was a part of the Orkut generation - when did you think we would have an name for our generation - not that our elder would give us, but what we would give ourselves!

2. Sourav Ganguly

India are the favourites to win this World Cup. It wasnt the case in 1999. The Indian team was in ruins. If you have watched our team surrender the match as soon as Sachin got out and now Watch a 100+ run partnership between Yusuf Pathan and No. 10 Zaheer Khan, you wouldnt believe it was the same team.

With all due respect to Dhoni and his men, it was Sourav and hi men who dreamt of a fearless Indian team.

I am biased here. I have been a staunch Ganguly fan for the last 10 years. I still am. In spite of all the humiliation that he had to go through from being dropped from the Indian team in 2005 to the last IPL auction. Sourav Ganguly is the hero that we needed in early 2000s. He did what he had to do and he did it with style. Even last year he was the amongst the highest run getters in IPL - this, when he was out of form!

If we win the World Cup this year, which I ll be surprised if we didnt, a lot of it because of Sourav's vision.

3. Google

There are fewer companies that have impacted our lives more than Google. When internet companies like yahoo were busy drafting out revenue models, which essential means finding out ways to screw white people around the world (coz brown people are smart enough not to pay anything for anything digital), google was giving away stuff for free! - Like Gmail's promise of never having to delete a single email because of its unlimited space. Yahoo was charging it's customers 10$ for the same service.

There was a time when you would come home from college and open up - gmail, orkut and blogger in that order - all of them google offerings.

There are companies like Shell who have made a lot of money selling oil and stuff, but Google guys are the ones who have really changed the way we think, the way we work, the way we imagine!

4. Chetan Bhagat

Okay, go ahead and blast me. But if I cared what people thought, would Ganguly come up at #2?

Bhagat changed the way India reads. Back in 2000, only kids in South Mumbai who had parents and grandparents who had studied from the same school could boast of reading novels and eating in McDonalds.

But now thanks to Chetan Bhagat's Rs.99 novels and McDonald's Rs.25 menu, kids from all around India can now boast of doing both.

Bhagat unfairly has to bear the flak of critics who actually are criticizing any IIT-IIM Delhi guy writing stupid stories which revolve around sex. In 1999, Indians would laugh it off if someone said an Indian movie could be based on a novel, but 3 idiots was based on 5 point someone as much as Vidhu Chopra and Co would like to disagree.

Only Amitav Ghosh, Arundhati Roy and Salman Rushdie and other who had spent their student lives in the costliest of schools in India and then moved on to the US or the UK usually without scholarship with all expenses paid by father's textile business had the right to write "literature". Chetan changed all that - with just one book.

My novel obviously is above Bhagat and these other kids who start writing because their 6th std English teacher told them that they can write. My novel was about love, life and a fight. I wrote it because I wanted to convey an awesome story about an underdog. I like underdogs. I guess most of us are underdogs in a way.

For people who dont know what I am talking about and where you can buy my book - Please go here for awesomeness - www.arshatchaudhary.com (PR bhi important hai bhai!)

5. Malls

"Hi, you are in the city too? Wow! Let's meet up then Where? Well, at the mall, of course!"

Land is the only asset that doesnt depreciate. (Something I learnt at MDI, Gurgaon) The reason, it's limited! So out went the textile mills of Mumbai and in came the Malls! Out went the dusty roads and Mustard fields of Gurgaon and in came the Malls! - I can do this with most other cities, but get the point!

Malls in India have become a way of life. Every time you have to meet someone or go b'day shopping for your friend, then instead of going to the local market and haggling for 30 rupees, you chose to go to a swanky mall and buy something cheap from Big Bazaar if your friend was cheap or buy something from Lifestyle if your friend was, well, a girl! :P

Going by the swankiness of the malls in India, they arent behind anyone. There are the same brands that are there, in say, Europe. I think only Dubai has swankier malls, but then, who want to go to a mall to have a burkha clad woman in Dubai sell you CK perfumes! That would be a serious case of Brand mismanagement! (Something else I learnt at MDI, Gurgaon)

6. BPOs

In the 1990s -

Teenager: Pappa, I want to buy Nagraj's latest comics!

Dad: Go buy it with your own money!

Teenager: But Pappa, I dont have any money. No one will employ me because I have no skills whatsoever!

In the 2000s -

Teenager: Pappa, I want to buy branded underwear!

Dad: Go buy it with your own money!

Teenager: OK!

Dad: What? Who will employ you? You got no skills whatsoever!

Teenager: Dad! Jisse koi nahi employ karta, usse BPO naukri hai! *Amitabh Bacchan ki movies wala music in the background*

BPOs changed us. It made acne ridden Tier 2 and Tier 1 cities kids feel more confident about their non-existent skills! These kids would call us US acting as one of their own, which really goes to say about their levels of low confidencery! I mean, who would want to be one of Michael instead of Mahesh? It's all screwed up. But then, at least it increased the sale of Jockey boxers in India.

7. Aamir Khan

In every path breaking movie in the last 10 years, Aamir has been an important part.

From Dil chahta hai to Taare Zameen Par (both of which I liked but wasnt particularly impressed by) to Lagaan, which should have won an Oscar, to Ghajini, an awesome marketing gimmick, to Rang De Basanti - every movie that aamir has been a part of has been path breaking in one way or the other.

No one would have given a chance to movies like Dhobi ghat or such in 1999. Back then Kaho na pyaar hai made people happy, not to say we have changed a lot in that respect - we still made sure Dabangg was the highest grossing movie in the history of Bollywood.

8. Kaun banega crorepati

When Amitabh Bacchan hung his boots after his last movie Khuda Gawah, for our parents, it was the end of an era. But then ABCL, Amitabh's production company ran into losses and thus began AB's second innings. After disastrous movies like Mrityudata and Lal Badshah (can you believe I still remember the names of these movies?), people who loved him felt he should have stayed at home or entered into politics like his peers.

But then came Kaun Banega Crorepati, and with one master stroke and a white french beard, Big B was back right into our living rooms on Thu at 9. It didnt take him long to make way into our hearts. His "lock kiya jaaye?", "sure? confident?" and "ufsos!" became part of daily slang - in a way he became as big as he was during his peak - How was he different from Deewar's angry young man who would lock the gate behind him and say - "Tum mujhe dhoondh rahe ho aur main tumhara yahan intezaar kar raha hoon"

Then there was the added benefit of winning 1 crore rupees (taxes apply) along with meeting Big B. I remember how when people used - Phone a friend, the people on the other side of the phone went crazy and bantered about how they watched his movies bunking college and stuff... IT probably didnt make much sense to our generation, but one look at our parents in our living room and their smiles made it clear that they had done such a thing as well...

All of us spent hours getting through the phones lines of KBC and getting that one question answered. If you got the answer right, you waited for them to call you back. It was a simpler time. But we knew, TV would never be the same.

9. iPod:

iPod for an Indian doesnt necessarily mean Apple iPod. Any device that can be carried and plays music can be referred to by this term.

For a country thats music crazy, movie crazy, dance crazy - iPod was a God sent. It took the world by storm. But obviously 90% of users of so called generic portable music players would have no idea about Apple. They use Chinese models which are actually made in Taiwan!

You wonder how people who belong to poorer sections of the society can afford these players. That is only till you see how cheap they cost. The only problem that I think is what they face must be updating their music. But if you look at their playlist, it would consists of the choicest Kumar Sanu songs from 1990s. They dont need to update their music. They are happier stuck in better times.

Okay, maybe iPod or the concept didnt change us in a big way. But when you see everyone from a rickshaw driver to a pav bhaji wala having his ears stuffed white earphones listening to the latest Himesh song, you cant help but feel that entertainment should be free for everyone.

10. Reliance mobile

There was a time when having a mobile was considered to be a status symbol That was 1998.

Then Reliance happened. I still remember the Rs.501 advert for a mobile. Sehwag and Sehwag ki maa, took India by storm. Everybody was talking about it. Everybody was wondering if Dhirubhai ka sapna might also have to be parting off with their hard earned money. Like always, the buiness class decided to take the risk of buying it while the working class thought of ways to avoid buying it till Dhirubhai's dream sequence became clearer.

There came a time when your carpenter, painter, vegetable seller, housemaid would give you miscals and you would have to call them back only for them to tell you that they were watching a movie in the nearest Multiplex and would not be able to come work that day.

***

When I look back through the last 10 years, I am amazed to see how much we have changed! From a nation for whom "India Shining" was just a phrase to a nation who have seen it shine. Nations go through phases, just like humans do. What they do during those phases, how they act, how hard they work decide on what they become in the future.

Whatever becomes of us, it is we who are going to change India. It is India's orkut generation - the generation which most thought wont be able to handle the pressures of a developing economy and the pleasures that it brings with it - which will help change her fortunes...

What a time to be born! Why would be anywhere in the world but here!

Jai Hind!

-Arshat Chaudhary

Top 10 Sitcoms in 2000-2010... 10 years-10 sitcoms

2010-12-22T17:36:00.004+05:30

I take TV seriously. Yes. I do.

I take all art forms seriously. Yes. I called TV an art form.

I take sitcoms more seriously than I take other series. I think it takes immense creative energy to follow deadlines and come up with a fun episode every week.

I introduced myself to sitcoms when Zee cafe was still Zee English and Star World was, well, Star World.

Back in the day, the funniest thing that would happen to you would invariably be your professor telling you a nerd joke - some thing like -

Heisenberg is driving down a highway when hes stopped by and cop. "Do you know how fast you were driving back there, son?"

Heisenberg replies - "No sir, but I know where I am!"

Geddit? Geddit? Dont worry if you dont... Be proud of yourself. You are not a nerd. (Now seriously, search up the Heisenberg principle. It pretty cool actually.)

So whom do you turn to for a good time when you are surrounded by such profs? The good old Television. :)

So I was thinking, among all the sitcoms that I have watched in the last 10 years, which ones have been super cool? Which ones should you watch to be around as cool as me? Note that I said 'around' coz...well... let's not get ahead of ourselves here.

So anyway, without wasting any more time, heres the list -

11. MODERN FAMILY

Why did I put up a #11 in a top 10 list? Well, because I can! Okay... because Modern Family is good. But they havent come out with that many episodes to be allowed in this countdown.

Something tells me that I will be writing about this show in 2020 when I make my "Best Sitcoms in the 2011-2020" list.

10. Curb Your Enthusiasm

If the makers of Seinfeld come up with a sitcom, which is less of a sitcom and more of a mockumentary, you know its gonna be fun.

Larry David shines in this show.

I might be biased here. I must say this show does remind me of Seinfeld and maybe that's why I like it so much. so, in order to be less biased, I placed it at #10.

Yes, this Top 10 is awesome like that!

9. My Name is Earl:

Even thinking about this show makes me smile. It was so damn ridiculous, it was funny.

The show follows the life of Earl - this guy with a moustache and a dumb ass brother.

So, Earl has done wrong things to too many people. And he believes its bad karma why he cant live a happy life. So, he writes down everything he did wrong with his friends, relatives, random people at the mall and then proceeds to find them and make it right. What follows is supreme stupidity which like always, makes for good sitcom watching experience!

8. Sarabhai vs. Sarabhai

So, now my readers from Turkey, Jordan and South Africa (what? I get a lot of traffic from these countries... I have no idea why!) are now wondering, what sitcom is this!!

Well, its an Indian sitcom and its in Hindi (without subtitles). The reason why I am resorting to such patrioticity is coz of the numerous shows on Indian television, no show - I repeat - no show comes even close to this!

The writing is smart, the editing crisp and the acting top notch! It has to be super awesome for it to be placed above two very good American sitcoms. And it very well deserves to be seen and respected for its awesomeness!

7.Just Shoot Me

Scene : Six people sitting at a table, out of which two are deeply lost in each others eyes.

Jack: I cant have this meeting if 33% of us are lost in each others' eyes!

Nina (with a dumb expression on her face) : What are you talking about Jack, there are only 6 people here!

The 2 love birds get up and start walking, still lost in each other.

Nina (with a confident smile): Jack, I think now only 4% of us are interested in this meeting!

Super funny. You should have been there!

6.scrubs

Scrubs is one of the few sitcoms I have written about. You can find my blogpost about Scrubs which I wrote back in 2007 here - http://thetimepassofindia.blogspot.com/2007/06/scrubs.html

Enough said!

5. F.R.I.E.N.D.S

I have to have a heart of stone not to include Friends in my top 10 list of Sitcoms. 25 years from now, our kids will watch this and still be floored by how awesome it was.

Friends is a classic. It is awesome. I know a generation of kids who relate to the 6 characters on the show. So I have a friend who thinks he is so much like Ross, there is this girl who says shes a lot like Rachel. The point being, name one more show where you tried to relate yourself to a character. And remember the Friends quizzes you had in college? You didnt? Well, maybe your college wasnt as nerdy as mine then.

I dont want people to comment how it became slow and boring at the end. Well, it did not. There just wasnt much to do with the characters.

Would a remake of friends work? I think, it will. All they have to find is an endearing cast. Have I just given NBC an idea?

And If you are wondering, what character would I relate to, then there are no points for guessing - I am such a Chandler. I miss Chandler Bing's sarcasm.

Sigh... Good days those.

4. That 70s show:

Now we can spend many blogposts discussing if That 70s should be placed so high up. But the deal is, it is difficult to create such a show.

You have to set it in the 70s then make sure the slang is right, the aspirations, political views etc. are right. It sounds like I am taking this too seriously? Well, a wise man once said-- making people laugh is no funny business son. Okay it was me who said it.

Anywhoo, the point here, this show was awesome. Tell me you didnt love the theme song and the "Hello Wisconsin!"at the end of it or you dont wanna know what race Fes comes from! (Its Fes and not Fez - it stands for Foreign Exchange Student!)

3. Coupling

Okay. Now I think British comedies are seriously over rated. They are unimaginative and as boring as Indian sitcoms. Now I have nothing against British sense of humour. I think the English are hilarious. But as artists they are rather unimaginative, dont u think?

That is till you watch Big train, Little Britain or Coupling. Now the first two arent really sitcoms, they are like short skits put together. That is why they are not on this list.

Coupling is England's answer to Friends. Nobody asked England a question, but they answered nevertheless. Its genius writing and good acting thrown in with a lot of dry humour and a thick cockney accent! What you get it an extremely palatable British sitcom.

2. The Big Bang Theory:

There are two types of people in this world. One - who find BBT funny and two - who dont find BBT funny.

If you do a quick check on their report cards, the ones who dont find BBT funny, failed their science and maths exams on a regular basis.

1. How I met your Mother

The #1. Without doubt.

Once upon a time there was a kid posing as a genius doctor on a show. That show was Doogie Howser MD. And that kid was Neil Patrick Harris. Or whom you know as Barney "awesome" Stinson.

He single handedly makes the show worth watching. The fact that the other kids are doing a good job too just make it worth the 21 mins. When it ends, you want more. You wish it was 29 mins like the British shows instead of 21 mins.

Awesomeness is a word.

Lemon Law is a thing.

Legen.. wait for it... dary is what uncool kids say to sound cool.

All this because of NPH.

There are people who have an attention span of a bumblebee and are wondering where is the mother in How I met your mother? I know the title of the show is misleading. I mean seriously, where is the mother?

But should we care? Did we start watching it for the mother? The answer is no. I say let there be no mother. The kids can be adopted for all I care.

So let this show go on and give us more awesomeness.

Here. I am done writing this. If you just skimmed through this post then I say - Not cool mate.. not cool...

PS -Entourage and Californication werent included coz they r cool and everything, but lack the funny.

The simpsons has not been included coz its a animated series and in a different class.

The pothole in Berlin

2010-11-28T16:15:00.002+05:30

The other day on my way to office, I saw a sight thats so rare, that in the 9 months that I have stayed here in Berlin, I have seen that sight just once. That sight was the sight of a pothole. A pothole the size of a volleyball. That was to my knowledge, the one and only pothole in Berlin.

I have known Germans too well for too long now. I took a picture of the pothole on my cellphone -- I ll tell you why -- coz 36 hours later, the pothole was gone. I knew this was going to happen. Only, I didnt expect this to happen in 36 hours. For the Germans, a pothole was a national crisis!

As I walked to my office that day, a thousand thoughts flooded my mind.

I remembered the bumpy rides in my own country. I remembered cursing the government, the officials... I tried to remember when was the last time road repairs took only 36 hours? It usually took months of complaining or an accident or better still, a visit by a politician to that road.

People like me, who love their country, start defending their own arguments which expose our incompetencies. Berlin is rich, I thought - they can afford the repairs - we dont have money - maybe one day we will have money - then we ll see...

The truth is - in PPP terms, Mumbai is richer than Berlin. The truth is - we cant hide behind the developing country tag anymore. A boy becomes a man when he takes responsibility for his actions. Maybe its time that we, as a country, grow up.

Honesty is such a virtue. Why have we put people who dont have any in positions of power?

The other day, at a high profile meeting here in Berlin, during a presentation, the name of India came up. The presenter talked about the CommonWealth games fiasco. The theme of the presentation had nothing to do with The commonwealth games.Cheapshot? Yes. It was. It made me cringe. The news reports about Kalmadi never bothered me before, but that day, they did.

And I am sure all is forgotten back home. I have no access to Indian news channels but I am sure news channels must have found a new topic to discuss. I am sure Dhoni's bike/hairstyle or Katrina Kaif's legs/cleavage forms the crux of the breaking news.

Why are we so complacent? Are we so big a country that no one is ready to take responsibility for anything? Are there so many people in there that its easy to find someone to put the blame on?

Do I sound to harsh for your Indian ears? Well, I am just being honest. And you know it.

And its not just us who are like this. I talk to a lot of people around the globe(except India). There is a marked difference in the people from the developing countries and the developed countries - It doesnt really matter what continent the countries are. People in Japan are similar to Germans when it comes to work ethic. While there are a few other countries, which remind me of India sometimes.

Back in India, in MDI, Gurgaon, when we saw our European friends complain about stuff, fight for what they thought was right, while we used - "chalta hai" attitude, each one of us thought they were being fussy. But now that I see them fighting for what's right even in their own country, I understand what their culture is all about. If something is not as it should be - it should be reported. It should be changed. Put into order. That explains the 36 hour repair of the pothole.

I am not saying we should mimic the west. In fact I strongly suggest that we dont. I am just saying, perhaps being complacent is not the best approach to being a successful nation.

Being colonized is the worst thing that can happen to a country. It's worse than losing two world wars. It's like being in a war for 150 years and losing it every year. Little by little, the soul of the nation is dies.A fractured, frail soul takes its place. What follows is appreciation towards the ruler and disrespect for self. This is why we regard learning English as more important than learning other Indian languages. This is why we buy "imported" stuff, even if its made in Taiwan. I have a German friend who I met the other day. She had worn her grandmother's earrings. Of course they were classy and subtle. My question is, how many of the girls in India would wear their grandmom's jewelery? If I was a girl, I wont. They would be too gaudy for today's generation. But arent we supposed to be gaudy? Look at our weddings for example and then compare it with theirs. Look at our festivals then have a look at theirs. Around 200 years ago, not a long time for a country whose civilizations dates back to 2600 BC, we would have been very comfortable in our skin. Now, we are just wannabes.

I dont know if you remember, but around 15 years ago, Doordarshan would show the Population clock everyday at 12 noon. It had this ticker which showed a number close to 92 crores (India's population at that time). It was supposed to spread awareness about family planning. In school you were taught that India's biggest problem was its population. Now, they say we a country of a billion opportunities! In 15 years, we could change the way people think. How many countries in the world have seen that kind of turn around? If you ask me, this quite a time to be born.

GDP without freedom, is just a number - ask the Chinese. Economic superpower, new world, fastest growing economy order are just words - if we cant pull our act together. Being the strongest economy in the world would make no sense if our roads are pothole ridden. Of course, there are other bigger problems. I am talking in figurative terms here.

We dont need to do anything path breaking here. All we have to do, is try our best at doing whatever we do. All we have to do, each one of us, is to take responsibility of our actions. All we have to do, is just try a little harder - 'Cause the best thing about being a billion people is -- even if all of us try a little harder -- its actually... a lot.

The girl you didnt search for...

2010-11-11T01:39:00.009+05:30

"Are you on orkut?" A friend asked me.

It was the winter of 2003. I was in the first year of my Mechanical Engineering. I didnt know what or who orkut was and what do you have to do with it! Why does one have to be on orkut?

"To make friends." He said. "I am on orkut. You can add me there."

But weren't we already friends??!!

I dont know when I decided to join orkut. But I fell in love with it instaneously. So many of my friends whom I had left behind in school, in the scholarship classes I had taken, the people I had met at the science fairs I had visited -- all of them were there on orkut. You could see what junior college they went to, what they were currently studying, if they were single or not...

The best feature was that you could search for your friends by entering their names. Boys would enter the names of the girls who were popular in school. Maybe now they would have enough guts to talk to them.

Sometimes you typed in the name of the girl who you thought you were in love with back in school... you wanted to know what was on in her life... what college was she in.. was she still as pretty as she once was.... did she have a boyfriend...

But this post is NOT about that girl. This post is about another girl.

The girl whose name you never enter in the search box on orkut. The girl who never matered to you... The girl who you were mostly embarrassed to be seen talking to...

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

In the 7th standard, when you are 13 years old, the best thing that can happen to you is that a girl falls in love with you and declares that to the world. Not so much if that girl is --Suman.

I wont call Suman ugly, but there was something about her that.. well... wasnt pleasing enough... She wasnt as curvy as the other girls (which mattered) nor was she too smart like some others (which didnt matter). She was, well, kinda plump.

When you are 13, you have such frail parameters of beauty. I know I did.

I had changed schools in the 7th standard. So, I was the new kid in my new class. The guys wanted to know what my rank in my old school was. You know, if I was a threat to the rank order. Men can be so competitive! It all sounds so silly now.

The girls wanted to know if I had a girlfriend from my old school or maybe someone who stayed next door or something. I didnt really know how to differentiate between a girl who was a friend and a girl who was a girlfriend. But puberty had made an appearance already and the realization of the differentiation came soon after.

So, Suman liked me. And had called dibs on me or something. So all her friends were on a mission to be matchmakers. Girls like doing that. It's embarrassing to all parties involved.

Initially, it would be her friend -- Hina, who would come up to me and make small talk. It was important to be friends with me before she could make me an offer. Then it was all her other friends. I enjoyed the attention for what it was worth but realized it might be getting out of hand now. The funny thing is - Suman never even tried to initiate talk with me. She would sit in a corner and keep looking in my general direction during free periods, lunch hour and such.

My guy friends made sure that I was made fun of enough number of times. They would call her names and though I thought it was wrong call someone names, I figured if I wanted to be one of them, I better dive in with them.

News travels fast in school. Soon all the kids in all the divisions knew about Suman's attraction for me. Every time I passed a group of girls in the corridor there would be giggling! It drove me nuts!!

Suman tried talking to me in a way only school girls can. She got hold of me in the corridor after school.

"Hi."She said. I didnt answer. She continued, "So, I was wondering if I could have your English notebook. I was absent yesterday."

Now she could have asked the book from one of her girl friends. I mean who would want to read my handwriting? The teachers did, coz they had to, coz they got paid to read what we wrote.

I gave her the notebook. I wanted to get this over with. I felt people were watching us -- the more time I spend talking to her, the more news it would make.

She tried her best to talk to me. She would come to me during the games period and try to make small talk. I know how difficult it can be for a guy at the age 13 to talk to a girl he likes, and she was a girl, it must have been doubly difficult for her. But you arent exactly Mr.Sensitivity at 13. That is an age where your reputation matters more than the feelings of the people you are with.

"Hi, we are organizing Garba night this navratri. Would you like to give it a try?" -- Some girl from the 8th standard said. I had seen her before. In fact I thought she was kinda hot. But I have never been interested in dance and such. I have never been interested in anything I am not good at. Thats just how I am.

"no, thanks." I said.
"Suman is going to be there." She smiled.

Even 8th graders knew! I was pissed at all this. What was going on? My reputation was being tarnished here. Suman? I wouldn't go out with her in a million years. What does she think of herself!!

Then came the breaking point. She called home one day. Only, it wasnt any other day. It was Valentine's day! And my father picked up the call. It was an era when students in the 7th standard didnt own mobile phones.

"Hel..Hello" she said.
"Suman you cant call here. What do you want?"
"Uh.. I just.. just wanted to know if you will come to school tomorrow." She said.

What? she called to ask me if I will come to school tomorrow?
"Yes I will. Now I have to go do some homework." Saying that I banged down the phone.

My parents knew the date too well. My mother had smile on her face and I knew that a question would follow anytime. Before I could rush out of the room she asked -- "Who was it?"

"Just a friend. Had some doubt. Now it's solved."

It was far from solved.

The next day, we met after school in the corridor near the school library. Everybody had already left the building. We were the only ones in the corridor. She had a glittery pink packet in her hand. She looked at me and smiled. My expression remained unchanged.

"I wanted to give you this." She said.
"I dont want anything from you." I said bluntly.
"Please." She said. Her eyes pleaded to just have a look inside the packet.

I was angry at her. More than her, I was angry at myself. How could I be so shallow? But why did she have to call my home in the night on Valentine's day? What was wrong with her?

"No. I dont want to. And I want to clear out some stuff for you --" I was angry and my choice of words made sure I sent out the same message. But before I could say anything, she said--

"I love you."

I felt the insides of my gut heat up, i felt hot acidic fluid corrode my insides.

"Well I hate you. Do you get it? I hate you."

I said it. Not once but twice.

I walked out of there. I left her standing there all alone. I didnt even look back at her.

In a few days, the giggling stopped. Suman stopped staring at me in lunch hour.

She will get over it. I was sure. It was for the best.

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

We left school school after the 10th standard, a good three years after the 7th standard. So much had happened in those three years. Crushes. Quasi-love. Heart-break. We were now mature, wise 16 year olds or so we thought. The world was waiting for us.

On the last day of school, we dressed up in our formal best to bid our goodbyes. The boys dressed in formal shirts or suits while for most girls it was their first chance to wear a saree.

The girls normally cried as they said their goodbyes. Some of the guys did too. Well, I am not a cryer. If you ask me, I dont even remember the last time I cried. Not that I am proud of it.

Suman came up to me. She wore a white saree and a worried look.
"Can I have a picture with you?" She said. This was the first time we had spoken after that incident. "Please?"

I had turned her 'please' down once upon a time.

"I would love to." I said.

And I placed my hand across her shoulder. I looked at her and the big smile that had suddenly appeared on her face from nowhere. And we got our picture taken.

"Thanks. I will keep this picture with me." She said. "I hope we meet sometime in the future."

I am not sure, but I think I saw a tear in her eye.

It made a dent in me somewhere.

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

I have never said - I hate you - to anyone ever. And I hate myself for the single time that I said it. I wonder if I should have been kinder to her and looked what was in that packet - maybe a greeting card was in it, or maybe a poem... I could have read it, at least. But I didnt.

I have never searched for her on Orkut or Facebook. I dont know what she looks like now. I dont know what college she went to. I dont know if she has a boyfriend or if she is married. Maybe she even has children. I dont know.

But I dont wanna know all that. I just wanna remember her as she was in that picture. I just wanna tell myself that among all the pain and hurt I had caused her, once, just once, I was able to make her smile.

- Arshat Chaudhary

What kind of Indian are you?

2010-10-23T15:36:00.006+05:30

So last time I wrote this post to help you identify the European around you. Now to be fair, I am gonna help my firang friends identify us. Yes, I intend to make jokes on Indians. If you have a weak heart or your last name is Kalmadi (The poor guy has too many jokes cracked on him already), kindly leave.

So like I promised, I am back with "What kind of Indian are you?"

Now if you have been a regular reader of my blog (which you should be going by the amazingly awesome content that I write on this blog) you would know me by now. So, you know how I am gonna go about this -

I am going to sort Indians into different groups based on what region they are from. Obviously, I am not aiming at a PhD, so I take no guarantee of the data I throw here.

Having spent enough time in Germany, I have learnt to do stuff in an orderly manner (they are killing my indiscipline, I tell you). So, this is how we go about finding what Indian you are. We ll talk about - 1.Looks: 2. life: 3.Food: 4.Motto:

I could have thrown in a few Pie-charts and graphs, but in my last 2 years of MBA, I have learnt not to work for anything I am not getting graded on.
So here my dear firang friends, here we go -

Indians:
As the firangs must have identified from the Exhibit A (myself), Indians are a cool breed. We come in varying degrees of browness unlike the others from the sub-continent (read Pakis, Lankans etc.). We like to be in groups. Esp when we are in Europe. You see, we are so used to seeing crowds, the European streets make us uneasy. So we always leave the house in groups of 3, you know what they say - 2 is company, 3 is a crowd! (hehe, small joke).

We are extremely helpful. We might not know a word of German, but if you are a German from a small town in Austria (which implies you dont know English), we will make sure you reach your destination.

There is only one cuisine in the world my dear firang friends, and it's Indian. And there are around 15 types of Indian cuisine!
We dont like learning new languages -- not that we arent good at it --if you have met me, you should know we are good at practically everything. :P Also, note that we have 27 languages in our country. And 1800 dialects. Most countries in Europe have 1800 people!

We are all about numbers. Not only are we good at it (As you might have noticed here), we use it to crack jokes --For eg- There are more "Guptas" in India than "people" in Europe.

Now we move to identifying different Indians from different places in India. This part of the post is addressed to everyone in the world (and out of it too). Indians, non-Indians, Scarlett Johansson (what? she's out of this world!)
If you know me, I will start from the region which according to me has the hottest women.

1. Pallakad:

Everyone whose not associated with the South is wondering where this place is. Well, it lies on the border of Tamil nadu and Kerala. There is something in the waters here which makes the women super hot.

Looks: Women hot. Guys not. Seriously, watch south Indian movies if you want. The heros look really bad. Not that I am complaining...

Life: Children know tables from 2 to 30, by the time they leave kindergarden. 'B' is considered to be a bad grade. Second rank is for losers. They have an algorithm for everything. Money saved is Money earned.

Food: If the women are so dishy, the food has to be tasty too... There are around 37 types of dosas. If you are a northie wondering - "Oye paaji, yeh dosa-shosha bhi koi khaane ki cheej hai...". I say, when a hot girl in a Kaanjeevaram saree serves you, you dont say no! :)

Motto: If you have a brain, use it to make an algorithm!

2. Gujrati:

I have spent most my life in Mulund (a suburb in Mumbai). The colourful nature of the suburb is largely coz of the gujju poplulation living here. In fact, this might come as a surprise, by the most suburbs worth living in Mumbai are gujju populated... this, despite the loud Navratris garbas.

Looks: The only community in India where the men dress up more than women. The women are good to look at but talk only about SRK, Indian Idol and Khichdi... So, if you arent in touch with one of these subjects, you are at a loss. Gujju men are the reson why even Arrow shirts has to come out with floral prints in their formal shirts line.

Life: You dont buy anything that isnt flashy enough. The flash should be directly proportional to the price. If the kid is good, he can study, if he's not, he ll work in Praful mama's jewelery shop in Ghatkopar. Dandiya is the greatest gift to man kind and should be used at every occasion possible.

Motto: Why work for others when you can have your own shop?

3. Delhi-ites/Punjabis:

Well, if it offends the Delhiwalas reading this blog, well... toh ho jau bhai offend... the thing is the Punjus own Delhi...

Looks: Girls look the same - Short, straight hair, slightly plump... it has somehing to do with the butter in the diet...They are kinda cute till they get married. Within three years of marriage however, they start looking like their mothers... Men in Delhi single handedly drive the sales of Amul butter. Hyundai sells 70% of their Santros here! Every body owns a santro! And everybody in Delhi has two cars. If you have just one car you are poor and no one will talk to you, except other poor people.

Life: What good are you if you dont have a gaddi? And what good is your gaddi if it doesnt have a 6000 Watt speaker? And what good is your speaker if you dont roll down your windows and let it blast? If you are a good kid, you will end up in IIT Delhi, if not, toh bhai pappu ko Pulsar le denge.. ghumaya karna masti mein!

Motto: What is life without some show shining?

4. Bengalis

The torchbearers of India... They usually bring in Nobel prize, Booker prize and other such prizes which dont really help the Indian economy in any way...

Looks: The girls are pretty. The guys are not. If you happen to visit Shantiniketan, things might be exact opposite...

Life: If there is no kid in the family who's either a Author, Economist or such, the parents have failed miserably at bringing up the child... Children learn to write peotry in the 2nd standard. By the time they reach the 4th standard, they get nominated for the Man Booker...

Motto: Jai Bangla! Jai Sourav Dada!

5. Mumbaikars

Now that I have covered all 4 parts of the country, let me take you to the oh-so-awesome part of the country. Well, my firang friends, if you have visited India and went to places like Varanasi, Cochin and such, dont come back and tell me you have seen India... Coz my dear friend, if you havent seen Mumbai, you havent seen the best of India (or the World!)

You might have spent your best years in New York, London, Paris or Berlin, but if you havent been here, it's time u booked a ticket. Well, there is only one city my friends, the rest are just trying hard.

Looks: The girls come from all corners of the country. So lets just say they get prettier and more self confident when they come here. The guys gets more self disciplined if they have been wild, and wild if they have been self disciplined.

If you have a day to live, go stand at Dadar station, coz the end of the day my friend, you would have lived a lifetime.. ~Arshat Chaudhary

Life: If the kid bats well, he ll become Sachin Tendulkar... if not, he ll still make enough money by selling vada pavs outside CST. Kids are taught to run since kindergarden... There are special classes for running.. This training is later used to run behind buses, trains...

Motto: Time is money

So, this is my way to payback to Europe. You gave me a place to stay and I educated you guys about our awesome culture and our awesome people - their looks, life and motto....

Well, after all this awesomery, I am tired and should go get some rest.

For people whom I have offended through this post, well, I say it was fun, should do it again... :P
If I havent mentioned the people from your area, well, if you write about it, I promise I ll carry the link on my site and make your blog famous... :P

What kind of European are you?

2010-10-02T21:43:00.007+05:30

[Warning: Very Informative post]

Over the years I have accumulated amazing skill in identifying people's accents. Yes, I started work on Tamilians and Mallus. Most of you Punju's reading this dont even know that Tamil and Mallu are two different languages. Don't worry. Most Mallus think there is not much difference between a Punjabi and a Hariyanvi...

Seriously not kidding -

Friend: "Arre tu Punjab kab jaa raha hai?"

Me: "Punjab?"

Friend: "Haan... MDI, Gurgaon?"

Me: "Abbe woh Punjab mein nahi... Haryana mein hai!!!"

Friend: "Oh... Different hai kya dono jagah?"

Me: *Disappointment*

Well, to be a true Mumbaikar you should forget that there is a world beyond Mumbai. And you dont have to have your last name as Apte, Madhukar, Thakrey etc to be a true blue Mumbaikar. You just have to have utter disregard for presence of a world outside.

Gupta saab: "My son works in Pune"

Thankrey saab: "Pune? Where is it?"

Yes. The world is divided into North Mumbai and South Mumbai. (Subject of another post)

Today, I am going to teach you how to find what European is the white guy standing in front of you. Next week, I ll teach the Europeans how to find what Indian is the brown guy standing in front of you. (Subject of another post... kitne subject mil rahe hain aaj)

But first thing first - I have installed like and Share buttons on every post. Do make ample use of those. And do join the fan page for The Time(pass) Of India. It is very important.

Now, you guys have always known that I am super awesome. Time has come that I reinstate that fact.

My class in ESCP (Which now is the #1 college in the world) had around students coming from 20 nationalities. So it was obvious that I was gonna pick on the subtleties of the accents. So here we go -

What kind of Europeans are they?

French:

*The easiest to identify. If a group of girls are standing talking among themselves and the language turns you on, then they gotta be french.

*If you find someone paying huge amounts of money for small quantities of food - they are french.

*If you meet them in their house and the clothes they wear indoors are better than the clothes you wear outdoors, they gotta be french.

*If you are in a hurry: you want to find if they are french or not - Ask them to say the word - "Home". Yeah. Easy. They ll pronounce it -"Ome". True French guys dont pronounce H.

Italians:

*Again easy to identify. While Indians in europe will give their right arm for a good Indian restaurant, Italians in Europe will never eat in an Italian restaurant coz it's not authentic enough!

* Their name or Surname ends with E, I or O. It has to be one of the three.

* The north Italians dont like the south Italians and vice-versa. Hmm... Very much like Mumbai. Mumbai, I think is slightly bigger though.

Germans:

* Tough to point out coz most of them speak good English.

* Will drive on of the following - Merc, Audi, VW. A true German never drives an Opel. Coz GM owns it. And screwed it.

* Will wear on of the following colours - Black, dark Blue, Grey, dark Grey, White. All other colours are considered gaudy.

* If you are in a hurry: to find out if they are German or not - Ask them a sentence with the word "already". Germans misplace "already". For eg- "We have talked already with the Professor."

Spanish:

* You cant go wrong here. Super easy. They are just spanish. And no, not all Spanish guys look like Antonio Banderas. And not all Spanish women look like Salma Hayek... Ah... Salma Hayek.

* If you are in a hurry: Ask them to say - "Project". They ll say -"Proyect." J is pronounced as Y in spanish.

English:

* If you think they are having serious problems speaking the Queen's English, they gotta be British. It has been proved that the British way of speaking English uses up 70% more calories than normal.

* A true English man wont call himself British.

* If you are in a hurry: Ask them to say "Tata". Now that Tata is buying their companies like that guy did in the "Rajnigandha pan masala" ad, everybody in Queens land knows what it is. They pronounce it as "Tatarrr". Yes, complete Indianization of Britian is gonna take longer than expected. :P

Scandinavian:

* If you find a white person, whiter than others and who speaks decent English, it's gotta be a Scandinavian. Now you cant ask what kind of Scandinavian he is. That would be too much. How big is Scandinavia anyway? As big as Mumbai? :P

American:

* Good people. Good sitcoms. Utter disregard for Grammar. Easy to identify. If they make too grammatical many mistakes with too much confidence, they gotta be Americans.

Well, I think that is about it. If I havent mentioned your nationality, well, it must not be that important. Or maybe there are more students in MDI than in all of your country. If MDI had its way, it would have it's own nationality. the students would be called Mandevians. And you would need a visa to study there. Wait. You do need to crack the CAT to study there. So yes, MDI is a country in its own.

So done. Just to be fair -

Indian:

* Brown. Easy to identify. Usually found around Indian restaurants. Doesnt find Indian food in Europe authentic, still spends 10 Euro per meal whnever he visits Amrit/Masala/Mirchi etc.

* To distinguish a group of Indians from other south Asian nationalities is very easy. You ll find various degrees of browness in them. You see, some of them are from the south, some from the north and some from Mumbai. But the major factor is the awesomeness of that group.

* In case of hurry: Just ask a group of Indians an address (Indians are always found in a group). Even if they landed yesterday, they will try to help you. Only one in five Indians has acceptable levels of English. Even the one who does, makes the Queen cringe under her crown. Like they say - Heavy lies the head that colonises other countries.

That is about it. This is such an informative post, I wonder if I should put it up on wikipedia.

If I have hurt the sentiments of people of different nationalities, well, if I cared, I wouldnt have written this post in the first place.

Anyway, join the fan page. Be a part of the awesome. http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Timepass-Of-India/117871761604310?ref=ts

Next week - What kind of Indian are you. Stay tuned.

Arranged!

2010-09-25T20:16:00.002+05:30

Short Story

"Heyyyy! Long time... What are you doing here?" Rajani yelled from across the shop.

Yelling in a saree shop is acceptable. It is like a cafe... for women... And you get to meet so many of your old friends... Rajani was a dear friend from college.

"I was buying sarees for my wedding..." I said.

"Woooowww... When are you getting married? How come you didnt tell me?" She asked.

"Umm... In two weeks... everything happened so fast..." I managed to say.

"So how is he? What does he do? Is he a Doctor? Remember how you used to say...," Rajani glanced at my mother who was going through a pile of sarees, "Is it a love marriage? Or is it arranged?"

"Umm.. It's complicated Rajani... He's an Engineer. Works with a multinational in Banglore," I said. I looked at my mother who was now getting impatient going through the pile of sarees all by herself... "I should get going Rajani. I will call you some time?"

Rajani left. She noticed I was under a lot of stress. Weddings are stressful. I thought mine will be smooth sailing. But life doesnt happen how you think it will.

I thought I will marry a Doctor someday. He will sweep me off my feet. I would be intrigued by his passion for his work. His dedication towards his patients, his ability do good for the society would attract me towards him. I looked at the sarees my mother was showing me. Peacock green with a turquoise pallu for the sangeet. Bottle red with shades of pink and a light orange pallu for the wedding day... I had a say in choosing the sarees I wanted to wear.... But what about the man I wanted to spend my life with?

Why didnt I have the right to choose him?

***

For our honeymoon, it was decided that we ll go to Ooty. It was close to Banglore. So it was decided.

Sometimes I think things would have been different had I been born and brought up in a big city... Maybe then I would get to choose the man I wanted to spend my life with. But look at Rajani... she lived in the same city... we went to the same college... and she can fall in love and marry the man she loves.

Why didnt I fall in love? I was friends with some guys. I had a crush on a guy in college. But could never fall in love with him. Should it be this difficult?

Walking down the steep inclines of Ooty with Suresh, now my husband, I couldnt stop thinking about how I had imagined my husband to be...

I thought how I imagined our afternoons to be... How we would talk about serious issues... about work... about how we wanted to do something for the poor... contribute to the society....

Suresh cracked a joke... I smiled... just enough to not hurt him... The poor guy had been trying to make me comfortable for the three days that we had been married.

He's so different than the guy I thought I will spend my life with... Suresh pointed towards the valley. He said something and laughed. I didnt hear what he said, I was too lost in myself. But his laughter was infectious. I smiled. This time, not out of mercy.

I was lost in my thoughts as we walked downhill. Just then a state transport bus came screeching down the slope and Suresh pulled me towards himself. I looked at the bus that whizzed by... too arrogant to care about a girl lost in her thoughts. I looked into the eyes of Suresh. He held me by my waist. I could feel his heaving chest, his strong hands... This was the first time I was standing this close to a man. I felt safe. I meant something to someone. There was someone who cared for me. He let his grip loose. His eyes almost apologetic for having held me so close.

He was back to his jocular self after a while. This time, I was lost in his talks. He was so intelligent.. so witty... We came across a park where there were school kids playing with balloons. He kept looking at them, a smile playing on his lips... The smile faded when he saw a poor boy in tattered clothes looking at those school kids. He went ahead a bought a balloon for him. The eyes of the little boy lit up. He ran off with the balloon jumping with joy. There was a smile on my husband's lips...

I fell in love with my husband.

***

Back home, once we were out shopping...

"Heyyy.. long time... How are you?" It was Shreya. We were friends from school... "And when did you get married?" She asked looking at my mangalsutra and the sindhoor on my forehead...

"Last month." I said.

"Woooowww... that is so amazing... Love marriage or arranged?" She asked.

"Arranged." I smiled.

________________________________________

I would like to thank Heena. This is the first time I have adapted a story. "Arranged" was first written by Heena here - (http://queenofmars.wordpress.com/2010/09/08/a-walk-to-remember/)

This post is dedicated to Nupur and Heena for different reasons. You know the reasons.

I was talking with a German friend the other day. The topic steered to Arranged marriages in India. Though she argues with me on most things (in spite of me being right always), I never thought I will find myself supporting the concept of Arranged marriages so strongly. I hope this story helps.

This is the first time I am writing from a girl's point of view. And yes, it was difficult. If any of my engg friends call me girlie after this, expect some serious ass kicking..

Short story: Someone up there had a plan...

2010-09-03T07:01:00.005+05:30

This post goes out to all the men who read my blog. I realized that I dont write enough for the men out there... So here!

Short Story:

Present day...

My phone rang at 2 in the night. I dont know why, but tonight, I was sleeping the sweetest sleep I had all month.

She didnt even say hello... Somethings are so important that you skip hellos on phone -

"I wanted to say... say... yes..."

And I say, someone up there had a plan...

Chapter 1

I remember running behind that 10:15 infy bus. It's weird that people can be late for a 10:15 pick-up. And by people I mean myself and the pretty girl who came running after me. Well, running after the bus actually, but behind me. The phrase of importance here being -'behind me'.

So anyway, I stood there waiting for the Taxi. That is the only option you got to reach Infosys campus. I looked at the girl from the corner of my eye. She had a Infosys card hanging around her neck-the strap of which was kinda wet from her sweat. For everyone who says Bangalore doesnt sweat, I say, well.. You run-You sweat.

"Umm... Infosys?" I asked her. Yes, two words is what I could come up with.

"Yes?" she asked. That sounded like a question - Means use more than two words in your sentence.

"I meant, are you going to infosys?" I re-framed my question.

"Yes, I am. You too?"

"Yes. Wanna share a cab?" I said making the 'horizontal thumb- take a lift' sign. I dont know why I did that.

"Yes. Sure!" She said almost overjoyed. Now her joy might be because of reaching the office on time. But trust the male brain to chose the option that soothe's its ego.

I stopped a taxi. We were about to enter when Ajay came running to the bus stop. Whats the point in running if you are like 15 mins late for the 10:15!

"Hey! Stop stop.. please..."he shouted from a distance.

He ran at full speed and jumped into the back seat.

"Haan.. phew.. yes.. let's go now..." he said.

I kept looking at him with disgust and so many other emotions I cant describe. I looked at.. umm.. what was the pretty girl's name? I hadnt asked her for her name!

She looked at me and smiled. I sat next to the driver and she took the back seat next to Ajay.

"Hi... phew.. Hi.. my name is Ajay! What's yours?" Ajay extended his right hand.

This was even before the driver started the car! I mean seriously... Let the car start Ajay!

"Hi.. my name is Pooja," she said.

Ah.. so that was her name. A little too common a name... Bu then, a guy named Raj cant really say that now, can he. Of course, I wasnt named Raj, I have a still commoner name.... :P

"That's a good name... I like it.." said Ajay.

Who asked if he liked her name or not?

"Well, Pooja, I work in the development services section in Infy, what section you work in?" Ajay asked.

I looked at him in the rear view mirror. He was sweating like a pig. When Pooja sweats, she looks so cute... well, Ajay, he just looks he's having an allergic reaction to Paracetamol!

After blabbering for 20 mins, Ajay and Pooja reached the infy campus. I didnt reach coz what's the point.. I am invisible anyway. With my sorry walk I started walking into the office building.

"Hey, excuse me? I dont know your name yet..." Pooja asked me.

Really? She wanted to know my name.

"Ah... thats such a simple name.. really common no?" she said when I told her my name.

Well, it's not THAT common. I know only 5 other guys with the same name...

"Well, I ll add you on the messenger." she said.

"Yeah.. please do..." I said.

Please do? Please do? Where did that come from?

She pinged. We met for lunch. We hit it off.

Chapter 2

"Could you book me on the bus to Mysore?" I asked to the lady at the reception. We had an annual sports meet in the Mysore campus. I just wanted to go to get away from office. Besides, anyone who has been to the sports meet will tell you how awesome it is....

"Sorry sir, we are full..." she said.

"Oh... there must be some way I can go."

"I am sorry sir. There isnt any other way." she said.

My shoulders dropped like Venkatesh Prasad's after being hit for a six. I started walking out of the room, when she said -

"Sir? You could go with the cheering squad if you want...There is one seat left."

Chapter 3

I entered the bus full of giggly cheering-people-squad. Some of them even men. Nothing wrong with that. How can you be cheering squad if you are not a little giggly?

I found a seat - one seat - on a bus with 42 seats. And who is the girl next to whom the seat is empty? You guessed it right.

"I didnt know you were on the cheering squad..." Pooja said.

"Well, I am on the tennis team!" I pointed to my Tennis stuff like it was Exhibit A.

And she laughed.

Chapter 4

Mysore was the best week of my life. And I dont think that was coz I won all my games. It was something else. I didnt know if it's what people call love.

Today, I proposed! I have known her for 28 days and I asked her to spend all her life with me... Yes, just like that...

The plan...

If you are a 20 year old reading this and trying to find out an iota of rationality in what I did, I suggest that you dont...

I was 20 once. And very rational. But then, there are something just dont demand reason. The heart has its own reasons.

Place your hand on your heart and tell me there is no girl you know, doesnt matter if she's an actress, or was your girlfriend when you were 15, or your neighbour's daughter, with whom you would want to spend your life with. If there is, then you would understand. If there isnt, I hope you find a girl who is.

I probably knew I wanted her when she came running behind me. I knew she was the one when I was so scared to talk to her, just coz I didnt want to mess it up.

Do you believe in destiny? That things happen for a reason? That this life is a screenplay written just for you?

I didnt. And I am proud of the fact. There is a time for everything. If you believe in something without actually investigating or experiencing it, then its blind faith, isnt it?

But one day, I hope a girl comes around, whose laugh becomes an ambition, so much, that you wanna be the one who makes her laugh all her life.

Present day

My phone rang at 2 in the night. I dont know why, but tonight, I was sleeping the sweetest sleep I had all month.

She didnt even say hello... Somethings are so important that you skip hellos on phone -

"I wanted to say... say... yes..."

As I said, someone up there had a plan...

- Dedicated to my room-mate and dear friend Rahul and his wife... This is my interpretation of how they met...

Hindustan aur Deutschland!

2010-07-23T15:57:00.007+05:30

I have returned from Deutschland. It was getting too hot in Berlin and once the difference between temperatures in Berlin and Mumbai became bigger than 3 degrees, I decided to head home. Most of you will be amazed but the temperature hits 36 degrees C in Berlin. That might seem cool to you guys living in Delhi and Jaipur where you can cook food if place the pressure cooker out in the sun for long. But try living through it without coolers, ACs and even fans! Yeah.. no fans.. how bout that?

I miss Berlin. I miss the bakeries. I know. I missed Indian food when I was in Berlin and now that I am in India, I miss German food. I also miss the buses tilting when the passengers have to get down. I kid you not - the buses tilt towards the sidewalk, so that the passengers dont have to exert themselves. And these are low buses...

The other day, I was getting down the BEST bus and when the bus stopped, I looked at the driver, almost asking him to bend the bus, and he looked at me like - 'Chamaiyla... not happening..'

I have gotten into a habit of saying 'ein' something.. Like when u say that you want- 'ein cola' - that means you want one coca cola. There is no other cola in Germany. There is only coke. I said the same thing to the steward in Air India-

Me: Ein cola bitte?

Steward: Ein?

Me: Sorry - one.

Steward: cola? I have only Pepsi.

Me: Yeah. Any cola is okay.

Steward: But I have Pepsi. No Coca Cola.

Me: Yeah. It's cool. Pepsi is okay, bitte.

Steward: Bitte?

Me: Please

Steward: Go to hell.

Cant blame him. That is too much German for any Indian in a day.

I went to a kirana store the other day to buy vegetables, I said - Ein sambhar bitte, and the guy threw a big potato at me. Not cool I say.

India is changing. I sound like a spoilt NRI right now, but trust me, it is changing... Like for eg, have you noticed the english subtitles on Star World! I mean who the hell came up with that shit?

I accepted when they came up with English Titles for heavyly accented English movies on HBO. But sitcoms? You get a hang of the accent once you see an episode or two. I mean, these Americans make so many grammatical errors that its no fun to read their mistakes in the form of subtitles... We are the only country in the world who can save the Queen's English. This is what it has come to, the Queen needs a country with like 27 languages to save it's own language.

And the Queen needs it I tell you. In the last few months, I have seen Europeans rip the language apart. Especially the French and the Italians. They are getting back at UK for some long time forgotten wars or something. They just massacre the language. It's a lotta fun I tell you. The Germans are exceptionally good at English. Only as good as us Indians though. They use the word 'already' in every sentence, just before the verb - yes, thats the German rule. Pretty much like Indians end every sentence in 'only'. Yes, we are like that only.

I have been told that I have a very hard Indian accent. Which I think is pretty cool considering every one out of five people in the world is an Indian. In 20 years, once we spend enough time abroad, we will make sure everybody sounds like us. That way everyone you meet will have an Indian accent. That will be the day. Ah... Genius.

I was having dinner with a french friend the day before I left. We discussed on the existance of languages. Yes, I ask out french girls so that I can talk about language and culture. To not do that - Please buy my book from (here)

Anyway, so the topic of language came up and she asked me why while writing a sms, I dont use the hindi language. As in the hindi script. I told her that the hindi script is very difficult to use and we read hindi written in latin script faster.

She had a valid doubt- What happens in 40 years when hindi medium schools will reduce in number. As more and more international schools enter the country, hindi is becoming a dispensable subject. What happens when even the kirana wala understands hindi? Will we stop using the language completely.

The Indian in me did answer her - We have been ruled by Mughals for 400 years and then the British for 150 years, hindi just incorporated the influences of Urdu and English, but it still has an identity of its own - I managed to satisfy her doubts, but I wasnt sure myself.

Anyway, I have given you enough food for thought for a day now. I can shift to the more fun stuff.

I have become slow in crossing the road. I mean, I wait for the signal to turn green now. I mean that 'man' wala signal. Most of us dont even know there is such a signal. As a kid, I remember asking my mom why we have that signal when no one follows it. It's like in Delhi, kids ask their father why they have the red signal when they never stop their Santro at a red light :P

I miss Delhi. I miss MDI. And I miss my room at IDPL. For the initial part in ESCP, while returning back home in the U-bahn (Underground train), I would think of my single room at IDPL. That reminds me, I know that my blog is like super-popular in MDI, so here is requesting all juniors -

If you guys know who stays at Hostel 5, Room 7, the single room, let me know. I would like to keep track of the legacy:)

The first reviews of the book have started coming in. The reviews have been positive. What I dont get is how come no girl has read it till date. I have got like 5 men telling me that they liked the book. But none of the girls have told me that they like it. Crossword is acting pricey, so it will take a week more for my novel to be available there. In the smaller shops, it should be available by now. In case you cant find it - You can always buy it from here.

Till the next time, have fun people! :)

P.S. -If any of you know any distributors of books, any kind, please do drop me a comment or a mail. This is in regards to something I have been wanting to start.

On the wrong side of 25.. :)

2010-07-14T00:10:00.005+05:30

I celebrated my 25th birthday on day before yesterday.

Its one of the rare occasions when your male friends are allowed to hug you, unless you are Italian of course.

"So now that 25 years old, what are your plans?"

You dont realize you are 25 till you hear it from someone. It's quite a number. 25 weeks at the

box office earns you a silver Jubliee tag. 25 years with one spouse means you have really high levels of tolerance. You have to be 25 before you can become the PM of India (oh yeah)...

All in all, it's a good number... only till they ask you what you wanna do with your life...

I have never been able to answer that question properly. When I was asked that question as a kid by my relatives when visiting them in the summer, the answer was easy. I would say I wanted to be a doctor - one of the advantages of having a doctor mother. Then the next question would be, why dont you want to be an engineer like your father?

Never did I have an answer. I wonder if I ever wanted to be a doctor... I never wanted to be a Pilot, or a Police officer or Giant Robot (like some friends in my colony) or Michael Jackson (like my cousin). I just didnt wanna be anything...

I didnt know what I was good at. I was good at maths and science, but so were 4 others in the class. I was not extremely good at cricket, so being the next Sachin Tendulkar was out... I never wanted to be an actor like SRK. I wonder if any guy wants to be SRK or should want to be SRK.

The point here is, I never really knew what i wanted to do with my life. I am less confused than I was when I was 22. When I was 22, I tried out everything. I applied to FTII's direction course,

lectured CAT students, worked for Siemens, got into MDI, gurgaon.... I thought this would help me sort things out... It doesnt work that way...

Anyway, in a bid to feel good about myself, I tried to see what good things have happened to me in the last one year... what have I learnt... have I become wiser than what I already was! :P

* I got my novel Published. To be honest, I dont feel to excited about getting it published. All my friends around me are extremely happy. I was wondering why I cant feel the same happiness... Then I thought about my blog, the best feeling is when I get comments on the blog...

This is what I am waiting for - reviews of the book... Once they trickle in, I would be happy...

hopefully :)

* I made awesome friends in MDI and Germany. I realized that I have really cool friends in general. I fail to understand why do they like me so much. sometimes

I wonder if I have been a good friend to them.

* I finally got a chance to come to Germany. I have wanted to come here ever since I saw that ad about German Engineering (Opel ad).

* I have fallen in love with Berlin. dont know if that stands for all of Germany, but Berlin in Summers is beautiful. God is a male. And he made summers in Berlin for his recreation. You ahve to come here to know what I am talking about.

(Now that I am an author, I have decided not to post raunchy photos... only clean ones like the one below)

* 'Genau' and 'alles klar' have to be my favourite words in the German language. Genau means Exactly and alles klar, it means all clear, but it is used like 'thik hai' in hindi.

* I miss MDI. I miss Arcus, the night canteen in MDI. I miss my room. I miss Air-conditioning. As weird as it sounds, except malls, you wouldnt find ACs in Berlin. And Germany is like the birth place of Mechanical Engineering. Btw, last week it was like 37 degrees C here. But I am not complaining - you know, God, summer, recreation thingy? :P

* You know the sweet smell of soil when it rains? You dont get that smell in germany. I dont know why. I mean, I know the biology behind the smell, but I dont understand why you shouldnt get the same smell here. I think that's where the phrase -"Desh ki mitti ki khusbu" comes from.

* Football is an unforgiving sport. One mistake costs you the match. Cricket is a better sport for a lotta reasons, one of them is that no one pulls ur jersey while playing. This is one of the reasons we dont play football. You come home with a torn jersey everyday and your mom gives you the dressing down of your life. Also our country cant really afford so many new jerseys everyday. The GDP of India will suffer. We will have to import jerseys from Bangladesh. And we all know that all football teams buy their jerseys from Bangladesh. Imagine a country as big as ours importing jersey after jersey from Bangladesh.... this will create a jersey deficit and Europeans will have no jerseys to wear.... and that my friend will lead to no football, europe's only pressure valve.... europe's GDP will suffer.... Hence we decide that for World good, we wont play football... We are just a class apart, arent we!

That's it for now... I cant explain any more complex problems in the world. If there are any, I am sure few of us are already working on it...

Meanwhile, my novel can be now bought online at -

http://www.a1books.co.in/how-i-got-my-girl/itemdetail/8122311350/

Dont worry about the number of days. It should reach major cities in 5 days. Only in small villages does it take around 10 days I have been told.

If you find it in a store, do let me know... I ll be thankful :)

If you like/dislike it, please do send me an email - arshat.chaudhary@gmail.com

Till next time - Get nerdy :)

The excerpt

2010-07-01T01:05:00.005+05:30

Do you know what a new book smells like? You know, a book that has just come out of the press? I love that smell.The smell of ink on fresh paper... It reminds me of my childhood. I used to smell the books while putting a new brow cover on them. (It was a rule in my school-no, not smelling, I mean, having covers on your books). The smell reminds me of a new beginning... it comforts me... It makes me feel that the past is forgotten. It's another day...

I have been really nervous the last few days... My editor told me that the Novel has gone into the press. They are printing copies as we speak...

I wonder how the final copy is gonna look. I wonder how it's gonna feel... I just want to touch it once.... I wanna just smell it once...

Here, I post an excerpt from the Novel : How I got My Girl Back...!

I hope you like it... If you do, do visit the site for more www.arshatchaudhary.com (It's up and running now)

Excerpt from

Chapter 19 :

The Date

“L9? That is level 9, right? I will be there.”

“See you around 8 then.”

“Okay”

I started getting ready at six thirty, I didn‟t want to be late or get stuck in the traffic. Pune traffic on Sunday nights is a devil. I wore my favorite Arrow shirt and jeans. I know, kinda weird, not something that you would wear to a restaurant, but tell you what; Indian girls find an office shirt worn over a pair of denims very hot! Okay, I didn‟t know that, Akshay told me.

I reached World Convention Centre around seven thirty. Entered my name at the reception and then took the elevator to the ninth floor. I approached the counter just outside L9.

“Excuse me, Sire!”

A guy dressed in a dark blue blazer, probably the captain at the restaurant stopped me. These swanky hotels have guys like these to make you feel unimportant.

“Yes?”

“You are not wearing a tuxedo!” He had a British accent. Fake of course.

I realized something. This guy, it was... it was... Umesh! In a Tuxedo! A Tux completely changes the personality of the person I tell you.

“Umesh? What‟s wrong with you?! What is going on?”

“Isn‟t it cool? I am the captain here and I want you to wear a Tux,” he said excitedly. He pulled out a black swanky Tux from behind the counter. “Here! Put this on!”

“I am not wearing any Tux!” I said. There was no way I was gonna change from the „hot‟ look to the „old fart‟ look.

“Hey look! I don‟t make the rules!” He said.

Someone tapped me on my shoulder. I turned to find her looking at me with her lovely hazel eyes. She was wearing a maroon salwaar kameez. It had some embroidery but essentially it was very simple. Just like her - simple and pretty. She had a couple of purple orchids in her hand.

“Dev? Why is everyone giving me orchids?” She asked in her honey dipped voice.

“Umm.. umm..” Think Dev, think! “Umm… „cause you are pretty.”

Maybe that was the setting Akshay was talking about. He must have requested all the guys to give her orchids. I must have told him only once that Pritha liked Orchids, and he remembered that!

“Nooo,” she said. “I come into the WCC and the gatekeeper gives me an orchid saying Ma'am you are beautiful‟. I go to the reception to enter my name, the man at the counter stops me and gives me an orchid saying 'Ma'am you are beautiful', I enter the lift and say Level 9, the liftman takes out an orchid and says-”

“Ma‟am you are beautiful?” I offered to finish her sentence. “See? I was right! They really like you. And who wouldn‟t, you are beautiful.”

She blushed at that.

“Uh.. should we go in?” She asked.

“Ma'am, there is a dress code.” Umesh pitched in. “Tuxedos for men, evening gowns for women.”

“Oh.. but, I don‟t have a evening gown!” she asked.

What was he doing! He was ruining the whole thing. Just then he pulled out a turquoise evening gown from behind the counter and handed it to Pritha. Now turquoise is the name that girls have given to the color blue. I mean, why can‟t they call it blue! Wasn‟t turquoise an animal that goes into its shell every time it senses danger? Oh wait… That is tortoise.

“Ma‟am, you can wear this!” Umesh said handing her the gown. “And this too,” he handed her high heeled sandals or whatever they call them.

“Oh.. but do I absolutely have to?”

“Yeah, does she have to?” I quipped in. I was worried she might call the whole thing off.

“Sire, I don‟t make the rules.”

“Are these my size?” She asked checking the gown and the high heels.

“They sure are!” said Umesh.

This is the guy who gets up at six to take a dump, this is the guy who wears a baniyan for most part of the day and here he was ordering us to „dress up‟. Anyway, we decided to dress up, in our respective costumes of course, and in our respective restrooms of course.

I wore my tuxedo and came out of the men‟s restroom. I waited outside women‟s restroom for Pritha. She took a good twenty minutes to get dressed. Girls always take a lot of time to get dressed. But I swear to God, it‟s all worth it! She came out, wearing her turquoise evening

gown.

She looked beautiful! Her hazel eyes, her lovely curls, her curvy body. The dress hugged her body, revealing her figure. Till now, I had seen her in loose Salwaar Kameez which covered most of her. This gown was held by delicate straps at her shoulders. This was the first time I saw her shoulders. They were so shapely, and so delicate. My eyes lingered down. I wanted to soak in as much as I could. I would be lying if I said I wasn‟t aroused…, sexually. I would be lying if I said that 'thoughts' didn't cross my mind. Pritha saw me looking at her. Girls can distinguish between a glance and a leer. I was leering for sure.

“How do I look?”

My throat went dry. In a hoarse voice I said- “lovely!”.

She blushed. To be honest, I don‟t get why girls like Pritha blush after hearing something nice about them, I am sure they must hear such things about them all the time. But then, maybe, not the compliment but the person who gives the compliment matters.

I gave her my arm to hold, like they show in old Hollywood movies. She let out a laugh and held it as we entered the Level 9. Umesh held the door open for us. There is a small indoor section at L9 too. But today it was empty!!!

Who would wanna eat inside when you got such pleasant weather, and for some lucky blokes like me, such pleasant company? We kept walking through the indoor section and finally reached the terrace. The terrace was empty! There was a single table at the far corner of the terrace. Pritha looked at me confused. I wasn‟t less confused. Why was L9 so empty on a Sunday night!

“Sire! This way Sire.” It was Kunal! He wore a white blazer, like those waiters in costly places.

We walked to the lone table on the terrace. I pulled the chair for Pritha. It was dark on the terrace save for one pink candle that was on the table.

“It‟s a lovely night, isn‟t it Dev?”

I looked up at the sky. There was no moon. There were like a billion stars. It almost felt like they were here to watch us.

“It‟s lovely,” I said. Then looked into her eyes and said, “But not as lovely as you.”

She smiled. It was peaceful. Just me and her. Isn‟t that how God meant it to be?

“How come we are the only ones in the restaurant?” She asked.

Only if I knew! Akshay had come up with this. But the thing is, why hadn‟t he told me about it? And where was he! Pritha was looking at me, waiting for an answer.

“Umm… maybe they decided to let in only those couples who were made for each other.”

Pritha looked at me, kinda amused at what I had said.

“Devvv?” She said half amused, half annoyed.

“Pritha.”

Her name is so sweet. Calling her name out like that seemed to say that I mean that thing about made for each other.

Now, I knew she was someone's girlfriend, and here I was telling her that she was meant to be with me. Pritha was bound to be a little taken aback, albeit in a good way, to see this side of Dev.

The Dev she knew would always be a little hesitant to say something of that magnitude! But I figured that I had nothing to lose, since I was not asking for her answer. In fact, I wasn‟t even waiting for her answer. I almost declared that she was made for me.

Kunal came in with the menu.

I placed the order for Risotto olla Milanese and Russian salad. She asked for the Roasted vegetable Mediterranean Lasagne.

“You look handsome in this Tuxedo,” she said, looking at me.

I tell you, it is such a thrill when a girl you love says that. I felt a shot of blood rush to my ears. When Akshay had coached me, he made one thing clear, you have to be ready to keep her guessing, keep it interesting…

“Well, thanks. I always look good in rented suits,” I said. The line wasn‟t that clever but I couldn't come up with anything wittier than that then. Trust me, it‟s difficult to think straight when you got blood rushing in far extremities of your body.

Kunal brought in two plates. This time, instead of bread crumbs there was actual food in the plates.

We ate in each other's company. Soft music, I think it was Ronan Keating's 'When you say nothing at all', that was playing in the background. The only other sound was of the knife and fork touching the plate. I would say something silly every now and then and she would laugh her sweet laugh. Her laugh - like a seven year old‟s - unrestricted, full of innocence and clearly brimming over.

For dessert, I ordered a Gelato, while she ordered Vanilla ice cream with Kahlua. What is Kahlua? Don‟t even ask me! To be honest, I think even she didn‟t know about it.

“What is a Kahlua anyway?” I asked.

“I have no idea!!” She said it with mock confidence. For a moment there I thought she was kidding me.

Kunal brought in the dessert. She savored every bite of ice-cream. The metal spoon touched her pink lips, the cold ice-cream melted as soon as it touched her warm lips. I never knew you could eat ice-cream like that. My throat ran dry. She noticed me staring at her.

“What are you staring at Mr. Dev?”

Using „Mr.‟ as a salutation, when least required, is a girl‟s way of flirting.

“I..I..wasn‟t staring…”

Forget all coaching. If the girl decides to get flirty, you are on your own mister.

“Oh, yes you were!”

She smiled; baffled, but quite enjoying the fact that she was being stared at.

She looked at the sky.

“There are so many stars in the sky!”

“Yeah…” I managed to say. “There are so many more in your eyes.”

A smile played on her lips...

“But there is no moon today,” she said.

“There is one,” I said looking at her.

Soft music was still playing in the background. Now it was playing- I love you by Robbie Williams

“May I have a dance with you Mr. Dev?” She said.

If I didn‟t know better I would say she was high. The ease with which she was with me was quite uncharacteristic of her. She had always been this shy girl. Most of the times, she had trouble meeting my eyes, and here she is now asking me for a dance. Nothing wrong with that really, only that I have two left feet and hadn‟t received any coaching on dancing with Umesh. I gave the empty terrace a quick glance.

“Oh.. a dance? Really? Okay.”

I was not gonna miss this chance of holding her close to me.

I held her hand and led her to the centre of the terrace. She was wearing high heels and was finding it difficult to keep balance. I have always had a liking for simplicity. Pritha always kept it simple. No flashy clothes, no major makeup, no fancy high heels, she was comfortable in her own skin. In a way, she was so unlike me, I always wanted to be someone else.

I held her close to me. Since she was wearing high heels, she now almost came up to my height. She rested her left hand on my shoulder and I held her right hand in my left. Her hands seemed so small in mine. But it fit so perfectly. I placed my right hand on her waist.

The song played in the background.

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place And have a drink or two And then I go and spoil it all By saying something stupid Like I love you

I pulled her close to me. I think God hardwired us to slow dance, which is why even men like me who can‟t co-ordinate the movement of their feet to a simple left-right-left, have no problems dancing with a girl in their arms.

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying something stupid Like I love you...

She placed her head on my shoulders. We kept moving to the soft tunes of different songs.

________________________________________________

P.S.

1. Please do join the community How I got My Girl Back...! on facebook : http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=125312997504438

2. Also there on orkut : http://www.orkut.com/Main#Community?cmm=102975754

3. If you wish to be updated about the book, please do follow me on twitter : http://twitter.com/arshatchaudhary

4. Btw, this was my 200th post :)

The best dreams....

2010-06-18T04:03:00.006+05:30

The best dreams are the one which keep you awake at night...

The last few weeks, some of my very favourite dreams have kept me awake... The Sun rises really early in Germany, I know, coz I have been sleeping at 4 in the morning, consistently, for the last few weeks...

Getting your book published is like nurturing a baby. You hav

e to keep it in wraps... nurture it... and one day when it's ready, lead it out to the world..

I am generally calm about everything but lately, I have been a little jittery. I keep thinking about the book... There is just too much work actually. Sometimes the cover is not right, sometimes there is a problem with the cover, sometimes the website wont load, sometimes the flash file that I am working on crashes.... There are times when I get up at 5 in the morning, go to the kitchen and wonder why I came there in the first place.... I return back, and then I realise that I was thirsty! I go to sleep anyway...

I have kept you guys in the dark enough... But today is the day I unveil the cover of my Novel.

Now there's an interesting story about the cover.

You see, the cover that was sent to me by the Publishers, though lovely, looked like a out of a Mills&Boons novel. There was this couple kissing and stuff. My mother and sister saw the poster and were slightly scandalized. I knew the cover had to go. Ever since my kid sister started bossing me around, I have decided, never do anything that the sister doesnt like. I like to be safe. Period.

So, my editor called me and said that if I were to reject that cover, I had to come up with a new one within a night.

I worked on it for some time. What I came up with was almost as Milly&Boony as the previous cover. I realized that this was the work of a real nerd. Someone so nerdy, that his life would revolve around Sci-fi movies, Autocad software and Cartoon Network.

In Pushkar Sheth, I found that nerd. The weird thing about guy friends is, that you dont really have to ask/request them to do stuff... You just tell them. We worked on the cover in the night (in different rooms on different continents) and by morning we had 2-3 nerdy covers, with the above mentioned cover being the nerdiest of all...

My European friends have asked me what does the cover mean... I explain it here :)

The HOW has a square sign, indicating that getting his girl back, wasnt that straight forward. The 'i' is an imaginary number, implying lack of confidence in the guy.

The girl is presented as Girl++, like the programming language C++, implying his failure to understand them.

The heart is the best part. The heart has what we engineers like to call - dimensioning. Dimensioning is used to measure things. Here, the guy is trying to measure his heart and thus, the feelings that it embodies!

Deep no?

I hope you guys like the cover. Do let me know what you think about it in the comments section.

I have also been working on the Flash Teaser for the novel. Most of my friends who have seen the teaser, like it... I am currently also working on the website where you can have more information about the Novel, like excerpts, Q&A with the writer, synopsis, the works you know...

I can show you the teaser, but I am too shy to show the website. The teaser came out pretty well, but the site, though informative, isn’t what you call dhinchak! The reason for that being than neither me nor my friend is a computer engineer. And I don’t really have the money to hire people to do this. So the website might take some time before I learn some stuff about making a website.

Anyway, here is the flash teaser I was talking bout... http://www.swfcabin.com/open/1276689382

If you like/dislike it, you let me know...

My friends in India as well as in Germany have been asking me for signed copies once the book comes out. Everytime someone asks me for a free copy, I feel bad that I get only 10 complimentary free copies. Yes, that’s right. Only 10. If you are Salman Rushdie, then you might get 10 dancing ladies with hundreds of free copies... But I am not him, not even close, so no dancing ladies for me. And only 10 copies.

What I can do is, I can get you guys a discount so instead of the market price, you will get it at a cheaper price, but that’s all. If you stay in India and read The Time Pass of India, do send me a mail across at arshat.chaudhary@gmail.com. I will make sure you get your pre-launch copies at cheaper prices.

Some dreams are good. They give you that tinkling feeling in your belly. The kind you got when you were about to kiss for the first time.

Some dreams are not so good. They give you the chills. The kind you got when were caught copying in the 4th grade. Sometimes I dream that no one is buying my novel. I dream that - I ask the publisher when he’s coming out with the second print, and he says no one has bought a single copy from the first print. Sometimes I feel my friends will not buy my Novel because they expect me to send them one. And it’s out of my control to buy so many of my own copies and ship them all over the world.

I couldn’t have asked for better friends. My friends at ESCP, MDI(Gurgaon), SPCE(Mumbai) and Siemens(India) have been more than encouraging. All my friends in Berlin, Indians, Germans and from all over the world have been extremely supporting. The foreigners (actually I myself am a foreigner in Germany) have been so excited about the whole thing. I guess they see a bit of bollywood in the teaser.

Rahul Sindal, my roommate has seen me change from calm, composed, confident man to someone who became pretty unsure of himself. I have always admired the ease with which he cheers everybody up around him. I am really happy he was around this time. Alright now, a man shouldn’t give more than 3 lines of praise to another man. It just gets too awkward.

Now that I am in the zone, I would like to get over with all the senti stuff quickly. Pushkar Sheth has been the creative mind behind a lot of things. I find it difficult seeing my book published on time without him being in the picture. I also hope after reading such praise about a fellow human being, one of you pretty girls will go over and approach him. He’s a nice guy, only too technical. Thanks Pushkar, I know you don’t read my blog coz you find the stories too senti, but one day your daughter will come on this blog and read good stuff about you, and she will think you are more than an android sent from the future :P

I also want to thank Sameer Thombare for doing what even professional designers find difficult to do. You did a better job than them, you did it faster than them. IIM B has waited too long for you :)

I thank Harsh Snehanshu(Oops I fell in Love) for patiently answering all my questions. I thank Sachinn Garg(The Sunny shady life), my senior at MDI, who constantly pushed me to work more on my novel. I hope you read the novel and like it. I also thank N Sampath Kumar (Love on the velocity express) for keeping up my spirits when I was down.

I wanna thank Purnima Gopalkrishnan. She did what girls like doing the most, which is, finding a man's mistakes. The time and energy she put in reading my manuscript and finding out 1027 errors is commendable. The quality of the novel really improved coz of her efforts. I can go praising her, but I don’t wanna spoil my chances with other girls. : )

I hope I cover everyone from my blog friends to the people I work with when finally I say – I thank my friends for being there.

The book comes out on July 10. That is my birthday. I am entering that phase of my life where one has to hide his age. So I will not be mentioning it here.

The book will be available for Rs.125. It was priced higher. I had to fight and fight with the Publishers to bring it down to Rs.125. The slightly higher pricing when compared to other publishers is acceptable because the binding and the print quality of Pustak Mahal is far too superior.

The novel will be available at all leading book stores all over India come July 10, 2010. It can also be bought online.

Novel:

How I got My Girl Back...!

A nerd’s guide to dating

Author:

Arshat Chaudhary

Publisher:

Pustak Mahal

Price:

Rs.125

Available at all leading bookstores from July 10, 2010

P.S.

1. Please do join the community of How I got My Girl Back...! on facebook : http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=125312997504438

2. Also there on orkut : http://www.orkut.com/Main#Community?cmm=102975754

3. If you wish to be updated about the book, please do follow me on twitter : http://twitter.com/arshatchaudhary

4. Dont know if you have noticed... This blog just reached 1,00,000 hits!!! (check out the number of copies sold on the column on the right)

To my readers - Thank you for everything!

Something that I have to share with my readers...

2010-05-30T23:52:00.006+05:30

People have many fears. I have this friend who has never failed an exam and still fears that he will fail. One of my uncles fears losing money in the stock market. You know what my biggest fear is? -

I fear that nobody will want to hear what I have to say...

On a wintery morning in January of 2007, I wrote my first post. I didn't think of the future then. It was just something you do when you are fed up with life.

I was in my final year of engineering, and as it is famous for, Engineering did enough to make my life a boring routine - Lectures, Assignments, Practicals, more Assignments, Prep leave, Exams, more Exams, Results, Placements and more...

Life happens not in a planned way but on a wintery Tuesday morning... like it did to me...

It happened when I decided to start blogging. I never thought I was a good writer. All I knew that I could tell stories. I wrote my first post and hoped my friends will like it. Some of them did. They pushed me enough to write the second post, then the third... till I became addicted to writing...

I think a lot, and I continue thinking till I write my thoughts down. This very blog taught me that. I would write down my thoughts and that would clear my head for newer thoughts, saving me from the cycle of thoughts that I used to get caught up earlier.

Dont you think who will remember you when you go? When I go, will they rememebr who Arshat Chaudhary was? Was he a good guy? Was he funny? When I go...I will leave these stories behind... and hope that through my stories you read my soul...

It is difficult to write a blog. It is difficult to place yourself out there. You are potentially standing naked on a street. in fact, it's even worse, as on a street, no one knows what you are thinking...what your deepest fears are... Everyone who has been on this blog, knows me.. atleast a part of me...

What gave me the courage to a guy like me, shy and an introvert, to start writing, putting myself out there! Trust and Love!

I hope through my stories, I have made you smile, made you cry, made you think, asked you to fall in love... I hope I have fulfilled my purpose of starting this blog.

I look at the followers of this blog. I am humbled when I realize there are so many of you who have never met me, dont know what I look like, dont know what my religion is, or what is my political inclination, but still you love me enough to read what I have to say...

It's funny how a simple comment from someone whom I have never met made me feel so happy for days together... I hope my stories have had a similar effect on you.

I can't help it if I sound sentimental today... But today, something happened which I didnt think was possible...

I have always loved your comments, even when you didnt comment, I knew you had read the post, and I was in some way, able to touch your lives in some way... I felt happy that I could do that. All those words of appreciation some of you showered on me on my Orkut and facebook profiles and through email, though exciting, only ended up humbling me and pushing me to come up with better stories...

In most of my posts, I must come across as a guy who has this inherent urge to announce his supremacy by cracking stupid jokes about how awesome he is... But honestly, isnt that the trait of a person who wants to be accepted? Dont you think the guy who goes on saying that 'I am the best' is actually not too sure about it..?

All this while you have enjoyed my posts... I sincerely hope that you have... You have seen me grow... From a boy studying for his final year engineering to the man that I have become... I know, not much of a man... but play along, will ya? :)

I have shared so much of my life in the last 2 and a half years, I have to share THIS with you, this is what I did today...

I signed these papers. I am now an Author.

I owe this to each one of you.... each one of you who has come on my blog... liked my posts... or even disliked my posts... each one of you has influenced my life and writing in some way.

Today, to each one of you who has taken time out of their lives to hear what I had to say -

Thank you

The butterfly story...

2010-05-21T14:48:00.005+05:30

Short story

The African Luna Butterfly lives only for a day. In that day, she finds time to eat, sleep, drink and mate!

She says...

Medicine is a weird profession. People who aspire to become doctors should wear a chastity ring. It's only in Grey's Anatomy, I mean the series, not the book, where doctors keep hooking up with each other. In reality, doctor boys are really boring.

I know some girls find them hot, but they are boring for doctor girls. They are all the same - hardworking, intelligent and serious. That explains why doctor girls marry late.

In my case, that was a supplementary reason. In my case, most boys didnt like me. Maybe I was fat, or maybe I didnt wear fashionable clothes. Maybe I just wasnt attractive enough for boys. I thought I should study now, there will be plenty of time in the future.

The study time made me 28 years old. All my friends started getting married. The ones who werent married were either engaged or had a boyfriend. They went out on Saturday nights, while I did their emergency shifts. It was still better than sitting at home alone watching reruns of Friends and Seinfeld.

I was in the pediatrics department one such Saturday night. I was hungry so I went to the cafeteria. It was 2 in the night and the cafeteria didnt have a lot of people eating in there. I asked for Upma at the counter. The good thing about being a doctor is that you get immense respect. The lady at the counter was so sweet to me. The cafeteria is self-service usually but she served the upma at my table. I thanked her and inserted my fork inside the upma when I heard this guy call my name.

"Dr. Ragini?" I raised my head up. At the next table sat this guy. A doctor for sure. What department was he from! He didnt even have a name tag.

"Yes?" I said.

He got up from his table and came and sat at my table on a chair facing mine.

"It says 'self service' you know?" He said pointing at the 'self service' sign above the cafeteria counter.

"So?" I asked. Who was this guy? And why was it any of his business to point it out to me that I didnt follow the rules. Anyway, it was the cafeteria lady who came and served me. It was not my mistake.

"So? So nothing..." He got up from his seat.

I was confused and as a consequence angry.

"Wait... Who are you? What's your name? Where's your name tag?" I asked in a voice that is louder than permissible inside Hospital premises.

"I dont wear name tags. You souldnt be bound by names, no?"

Who was this crazy dude!

"Listen Doctor... I didnt break any rules alright.. It was the cafeteria lady..." I dont know why I felt answerable to him.

"Doctor Ragini, dont worry... Well, I need to run... I need to save lives," he said in a fake Superman pose.

"Wait! Which department are you in?" I asked, I dont know why.

"The surgery department. The 'real' doctors department. The kind who save lives." he said with arrogance.

"Well, I save lives too... I am in the Pediatrics department." He didnt even ask.

"Sure... you do... All of us do. But yeah, some of us are more important than some others," he said.

What a jerk! I thought

He went away and I spent the night thinking about him. Then I fell in love with him. Dont know how that happened... It just did... And luckily for me, he was head over heels in love with me too... It's a lovely feeling, isnt it?

We dated for a year. The best year of my life...

He proposed one day in front of the 'Gateway of India', one of the weirdest places to propose but flamboyant, just like everything else about him.

Then something happened which made me reconsider it.

Till today, I cant decide if I was right or wrong. If what I did was right or wrong. If I was too selfish. I was 29 years old. I wanted to get married. I had found a guy who loved me.

Akki, sweetheart, if you are reading this... I am sorry...

Love,

Ragini.

He says..

Being a Doctor sucks sometimes. It's not like they show on 'Scrubs'. You should watch it if you havent already, it's really funny.

Talking bout funny, I met this girl Dr.Ragini in the cafeteria. And I was such a jerk to her. I dont know why. But she seemed so nice, you had to mess with her.

She wasnt very good looking. She was what you would call plump and had a very simple way of dressing. But there was something very genuine about her. There was nothing bout her that was made-up.

I think I feel in love with her. I think you love someone based on not how they are but how they make you feel when you are with them. She made me feel good, funny and well uber cool!

Like the first time she asked me where my name tag was, I made this stuff up about how people shouldnt be made to wear a name tag. The truth was, I was new in the hospital and they hadnt given me a tag yet!

We dated for a year. The best year of my life...

When I proposed to her a year later, she said yes. There are very few words which can make you feel happier than a 'yes' from a girl you love.

We were supposed to get married in 3 months when she started to behave weird. She had been sick intermittently for sometime, but she assured me that it was nothing serious. I had known her to be increasingly honest, so I took her word.

I should have investigated more.

One month before our wedding day she asked me,

"Akshay? What if I die, say 6 months into our marriage?"

Women I tell you! Getting married is subscribing to a lifetime of silly questions.

I asked myself how would I feel if she really died in 6 months... It was a morbid thought, but for that moment I did think of it...

"Those will be the best 6 months of my life." I said. I meant every word.

We got married. Those were the best 6 months of my life.

She had thyroid cancer. It is hard to detect. Usually its a benign tumour and it is possible to cure it. But her tumour was malignant. She knew about it. She decided to spend her last days with me. She really loved me.

I read her letters she wrote for me in advance. Everytime I read those it feels she's just sitting next to me, saying those things- describing the way we met, the way I proposed, the wedding night...

Her not being here is nothing to be sad about.

She lived a butterfly's life.

People like to think she died early... I like to think she lived for a year...