How 'Run Lola Run' inspired our daily lives

Passengers waiting for Metro to stop
so that they can rush inside

I was in Bombay for three years. No, while that is a sad thing, that is not what this blog is about.
So, yeah, in Bombay I used to take the local trains to and from work. No, that's not what I am going to crib about either (I have already done that earlier here).

That was just to drive home the point that even three years of Bombay local trains couldn't have prepared me for the nightmare that is Calcutta Metro Rail. I mean have you even tried boarding a Metro these days? Here is what I wonder of all these morons travelling alongside me my co-passengers:

Did all of you want to be sprinters but actually got stuck in fucked up corporate careers? For nothing else can explain the mad dash all of you break into at the slightest opportunity.
Got off the auto? Run madly towards the turnstiles knocking off everything on the way!
Got through the turnstile? Run towards the platform, panting and heaving!
Train has arrived? Madly push into the already-crowded train!
Got off the train? Dash for the turnstiles before anyone else can make it. For this is your only chance to redeem yourself from that shameful episode.. the ignominy of coming last in 100 meters sprint way back when you were in Class I.

This, when there is a train every four minutes! I mean, I seriously mean man, grow up.

Ladka ho mere jaisa, ladki ho tere jaisi

I am convinced now that my accidental decision to do an MBA might have been actually a blessing in disguise. Because had I not done an MBA, I would definitely have ended up being a bachelor all my life.

I am privy to a lot of matchmaking conversations these days. And MBA grooms are the only ones in demand.

Sample this..

"Ladka MBA hai ji", heightened interest all around.
Being the inquisitive guy that I am, I end up asking, "umm.. which campus?"
And they give me what-does-that-mean? look. "I meant which school did he do his MBA from?"
"That we don't know.. some college in College Street, but how does it matter? He is an MBA, that's all that matters"
I decide there is no point in me participating in this conversation at all.
"He would be making 25-30 lacs I guess. Not everyone can earn that crore salary ji. What say, Vicky?" they clearly don't want me to kat lo that easily.
"Huh? How would I know... not all jobs..."
"Arre, how much do you earn, tell us?"
Now that's one question I hate. Flashes of earlier "Haw, didn't u study at IIM Bangalore?" conversations run through my mind. "Umm.. around... <some arbit figure>"
"He would definitely earn this much... see, college doesn't matter then..."

Random aunts have been calling me to ask if any of my MBA friends would be suitable for their girls, or girls they know. Apparently, it's not only the parents, but the girls themselves, who want only MBA husbands. Not without reason then that a lot of p(h)onytail MBA institutes are springing up here and there... and they get SRK to endorse them, the most eligible husband that our generation has seen, whatever that means.

So, yeah, MBA. And blissful married Life. Bet you never foresaw this correlation. Sigh.

Revenge

She giggled, as they sat,
In the ominous shadows,
By the calm of the lake,
Not letting time slip by.

He heard her chortle,
Through the veils of thunder,
Echoing in his mind,
And it made him shiver.

She fell back into the water,
Beckoning him, with her eyes,
He laughed out loud,
As he lunged forward.

He reached for her hand,
And held it tight,
As she pulled him down,
Deep.

She wouldn't let him go,
He wouldn't let  her go,
Her eyes spitted fire,
And his, untold tale of yearning.