Showing posts with label :). Show all posts
Showing posts with label :). Show all posts

Monday, April 17, 2017

Water, water, everywhere...

…. and I don’t know how to fucking swim!

I am sure it’s quite normal to have nightmares of dying a gruesome death. I am not sure, though, if such nightmares should involve drowning in the sea while fighting monster cockroaches.

Monster cockroaches – we can park that thought away for now. Other than my dreams, I am unlikely to have to fight them anywhere. Not that the tiny ones don’t torment me enough in real life, but that’s something that looks silly if cribbed about. Let me concentrate on my other nemesis: water, lots and lots of water, all around me.

I never learnt how to swim. When all my friends were joining the swimming classes way back in school days, I felt shy at having to enter the pool in tiny swimming briefs. I had even enquired at the swimming training club if half pants were allowed to be worn in the pool, and the trainer had looked at me as if I had asked him to part with one of his kidneys. ‘Everyone is dressed like that in the pool,’ he admonished me, ‘how can a boy feel so shy? You can buy the swimming briefs from us at a very reasonable price; we don’t sell swimming half-pants. In fact, there is nothing like swimming half pants’. I imagined the very bony and lanky me entering the pool in tiny briefs to loud guffaws from shapely swimmers all around, and that was pretty much the end of the swimming aspiration in me. Add to that the fact that we didn’t have showers installed at home, and had to use the traditional bucket for taking bath. Thus, I never really got comfortable with the idea of my head going under water! Not that I never got drenched in rains, but rains and rains, and showers are showers, and getting into the shower and closing my eyes would immediately send a panic wave through my whole body. This happened for most of my life and it is only now that I have gotten used to taking showers instead of using buckets and mugs!

I am not really aquaphobic. I am just perfectly capable of drowning pretty easily. I first learnt this years back when visiting the newly-opened water theme park in Kolkata – Aquatica. Here they thankfully let you wear vests and half-trunks. So yeah. I liked the shallow wave pool a lot, and also some of the other rides, and then I saw my cousins effortlessly slide down a giant water-slide riding on a slippery mat. They slid down from great height into a shallow pool and remained afloat on the mat, gracefully got off it into the pool, laughed and splashed water at everyone, and came out laughing even more. I wanted to do it too. It looked so much fun. And perfectly safe. The pool is shallow. I will be on a mat that floats. What can really go wrong, right? The moment I started sliding down, my second greatest fear of steep heights kicked in and I closed my eyes. But I held on to the mat alright. Then I hit the water with a giant splash, and realized that I was drowning. The mat was nowhere! I could swear I was holding on to it till a second back, but it was nowhere. I was supposed to float, but I was drowning. Water was entering my nostrils, ears and mouth. I opened my eyes and could see nothing, and my head was spinning. Someone grabbed me and pulled me out, and made me stand. We were only in waist-deep water. ‘What happened?’ the person who had made me stand-up asked. I coughed out some water, and my head cleared. I looked all around me. People were watching me, some with shock, some giggling, and some laughing quite derisively. I just turned and fled from the pool. Even kids were doing it all right. And here I was a fifteen year old buffoon, drowning in a shallow pool!

You’d think that this incident would make sure I don’t go anywhere near water again, right? You are wrong.

During my MBA days, I took this fraud course where we could travel to Malaysia for two weeks. And while there, we went holidaying in Langkawi, that’s what that place is called I think. We did water-sports, played on the beaches, clicked some amazing pictures, and then decided that we should go snorkeling. The whole group saw some amazing sights under the surface of the sea, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t take my head under the water-surface, not even with the gogs and the breathing pipe thingy over my nose and mouth. I tried, but I couldn’t. The moment my head would go under the water, I would feel as if someone has sent bolts of electricity through my body. I gave up. I contemplated if I should join swimming classes to get over this problem. Then I looked at my lanky hairy self, and thought the better of it. Who wants to go into water regularly anyway?

But not one who learns lessons easily, I agreed when some of my batch mates asked me if I wanted to join them for a quick vacation in Goa. This has been the biggest masochistic decision of my life, as it has given many of my batch mates fodder to tease me for the rest of my life. This time I was very clear though, no going under the water business. I stuck to rides that were either on a boat / scooter etc. or remained simply on the beach. And then some asshole tricked me into going for something called a ‘banana ride’. I didn’t know that the whole point of the ride is to take you deep into the sea and then topple that silly balloon on which you are seated. It is supposed to be the high point of the ride. Oh so much fun, a bunch of us being thrown off a boat in the middle of the sea. Only if we had a few sharks around, it would complete the process of attaining nirvana. Anyway, so yeah, I was wearing life jackets all right. I was told that there are trained swimmers with us. But I wasn’t prepared for the water going over my head. I panicked the moment we hit the water, and I panicked like no one has ever panicked before. I have never really been afraid of death per se, but I started shouting for help assuming that I was drowning. In reality, I was just floating. I held onto the person who was nearest to me and warned him to not let go of me. It turns out he didn’t know how to swim either, but he maintained his calm, and held on to me. I only stopped my drama once someone pulled me back onto the banana boat again. I cursed at a lot of people for nothing, and then as we were approaching the shore, the boat was made to topple again! I mean, are you kidding me! It was Aquatica pool all over again. I would have drowned then and there had someone not pulled me up to show that we were only in knee-deep water! The humiliation on the spot aside, this story quickly made to others in my batch, and I had to endure shouts of ‘Help, I am drowning!’ from a bunch of losers for rest of my stay on campus. Dimwit morons I tell you.

All this made sure that I won’t go anywhere near a water-body for many many years to come. Even if I had to, I stayed content with dangling my feet into the pool while sitting on the edge. Until this weekend that is.

We were holidaying in a sea-beach resort over this weekend, and I was playing with my three-years old daughter (who loves water!) in the baby pool. Don’t laugh. I was in the baby pool only because I was with her, ok. We had spent quite a lot of time, and Ishu had started sneezing, so we decided to get back to the room and get dry. I got up, pulled her up, made her stand outside the pool, and was walking to our slippers while holding her hand (I was inside the baby pool, and she was outside it). Suddenly, the floor vanished under my feet, and I fell into the deeper part of the pool. I hadn’t seen that the baby pool, quite strangely, merged with a deeper pool at this point. Thankfully, I came out of the water immediately, and looked around. Others in the pool were laughing. But I had panicked. Not because of the water, but because I was holding Ishu’s hand. I could have pulled her towards me while going inside the water, and hurt her in the process. But she stood outside the pool, looking at me thoroughly concerned. I heaved a big sigh of relief, gathered her, and came running back to our room.

Pools, and seas, and beaches, and water-bodies, they aren’t meant for me I tell you. When I die and go to hell, the Devil can simply push me into a pond and let me drown, no need really to roast me in hellfire.

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

#Iftoddlerscouldspeaktheirmind

#
I don't want to eat this porridge!
This is so yummy, wanna try?
No.
Have one bite?
No.
This is good for your health.
Why can't I decide what I should eat?
Because you don't know what's good for you.
Oh yeah? What's not good for me?
The pillow-cover, for instance. You shouldn't chew on it, it's dirty.
It's yummy. Who decides what's not good?
I do.
So, dad's right. It's all about you! 

#
What are you doing at the window?
Just wondering if I should throw this mobile phone down.
Don't. It will break.
It won't.
It will. Don't do it.
We won't know until we have thrown one down to check if it will actually break.
I forbid you to do it.
I can't do anything that I want !
That's not true.
I wanna chew on the pillow-cover.
No.
See? 

#
What's that in your hand?
A pen. I am writing down a list.
I want that.
No. This isn't for kids. Last time you got hurt, remember?
I want that.
No, play with your toys.
I don't like my toys.
You are not getting this pen.
Fine. You will never know what I did with the book you were reading.
Is it in your toy box?
No,
Have you hidden it under the bed?
No.
Have you thrown it from the window?
No.
Fine, take this pen. Tell me where's the book.
You left the bathroom door open.
Oh.
I gave the book a bath.
My book!
Then my teddy wanted to sit on the potty box.  
My book! Wait, what? 

#
Go to sleep now. It's bedtime.
Not yet. I want to play peek-a-boo.
I am tired.
I am bored.
Good kids sleep early.
I am a bad kid.
I am tired.
Let's play peek-a-boo.
No.
Fine. Don't mind me. I will just lie here and chew on the pillow cover.

#
You told me we are going out.
Yes, we have.
We have come to the doctor's.
Yes.
Will I get an injection?
I am not sure.
You told me we are going out.
Yes, we did come out of the house, didn't we?
I am never getting tricked into this again.

Saturday, November 08, 2014

Rishte mein to hum tumhare.... huh, kaun lagte hain?

Superheroes have difficult lives ! 
Every superhero must have a tragic personal crisis. Call it destiny. Or a balancing act by nature. When one achieves supernatural expertise at this very huge and humongously important thing (e.g. saving the world, duh! .. if you must ask 'like what?'..), he must fail miserably at some other petty thing that turns his personal life upside down (....like remembering names and faces of relatives; also read: thisthis and this...). YogiMan couldn't be an exception.. no, no, no Sir, he couldn't be. 

So, yeah, I am miserably bad at remembering people. I will forget your face, name, where do I know you from, when did we last meet and what did we talk about etc. Problem reaches epic proportions when I am dealing with relatives. I just don't remember! I forget their names even if I have met them a zillion times, I forget how I am related to them, I forget important details about them that every distant family member is supposed to religiously remember. Not only is this pretty embarrassing, this can get people like your parents and wife mighty upset with you as well ('only if you spent more time attending family functions rather than play on your laptop / phone, yeh din dekhna na padta ....'). 

Sample this: 
You are made to attend a wedding. Familiar faces smile at you from all around, making your head go in a tizzy trying to remember who they are. Then suddenly you are confronted by a smiling lady, with a toddler tugging at the hem of her ghagra
Unknown Lady: "Vicky, kaise ho? How's Sonia? What have you named the little one?" 
Me: "Umm... accha hoon. Sonia and Ishita are good too. Ishu turned 7 months now", you smile, telling yourself that you obviously know this female, but can't recollect how, why, and other such details. 
Unknown Lady: "Nice..." 
*Long Awkward Silence when you both look here and there* 
Me: "Umm.. you have lost weight" ... (this is usually a nice thing to say to strangers) 
Unknown Lady: "Haha, not at all. Just been watching what I eat", she beams and then tells the kid, "Radhu, don't pull the lehanga beta
Me: "Your daughter is cute! " The smile almost vanishes off her lips. 
Unknown Lady: "This is my niece. My son is two years old.... he's over there *points*.. with his father. You are probably confused" 
Me: " (Oops), yeah, sorry, how old is your daugh... umm... son? (wait, she just told you .... you are not making sense, ass!)" 
Thankfully, another lady barges in and steals her away by murmuring about who she needs to meet. Phew!

Imagine the plight if you make such a mistake with your in-laws? ! *shivers* 

Up, up and away! 

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Happiness.

Cradled in his arms, she seemed so tiny that YogiMan was almost afraid that he might hurt her. But then she smiled in her dreams, and YogiMan's heart felt a warmth like never before. Warmth of happiness. Of being content. Of being a father.

He could almost see her waddling to him, when he returned home from work, beseeching him to take her up in arms and swirl her around.

He could almost feel his stomach hurt, when she would playfully jump on it, as if it were a pillow, and laugh out loud to see him wince from the impact.

He also knew that he must tell his SuperBaby, someday when she's old enough to hear it, 'go and fight your monsters on your own little one, but always know that I have got your back'. And he knew that, then she would smile, a smile that would be worth every happiness in the world.

Tuesday, September 03, 2013

Budhapa is just a state of mind, or is it?











So 29. Balding. Bloated Tummy. Memory loss (especially acute whenever wife asks you to do something). Still a struggling Banker. Customary Birthday post on blog.

Blow the candle already!

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Why preach when you can threaten


Smoking is cool. Smoking defines machismo. Smoking helps you calm your nerves. I totally buy all that logic. And after all, it's your life and your fucking lungs. I am really not bothered.

But then you don't let me be. You walk beside me on the road and blow smoke in the air around me. You stand next to me at the chai-wallah and light a cigarette. You stand in front of me in the queue at the station and defile the air that I breathe. I am not asthmatic. But I hate inhaling smoke like thousand others who do. And I definitely don't want to die of passive smoking. That would be stretching imagination a bit too far, no one dies of passive smoking, you would point out and laugh. So let me explain my problem in an alternative way.

How would you feel if we are all standing in a queue, and suddenly I take out my bottle, gulp some water, gargle and then spit it out all around. Obviously I do it in a way so that drops of water fall on your body. Disgusted?

Better, we are all sitting in a restaurant and I stand up, turn around so that my bums face your nose, and let out a nice, smelly fart?

I can take it to the next level, but you should get the drift by now.

You may say it's not the same thing. I would agree with you. And add that what you are doing is actually worse. The smoke that comes out from your mouth has possibly traveled across all your innards and would carry with it (in addition to the toxic tobacco fumes) traces of all kinds of germs that reside in your body. My spit or fart would be less harmful by a long shot. I am no doctor or scientist. I am just using plain logic.

So, next time you are in company of people who don't smoke, or in any public place, and you itch to light a cigarette, just be warned that I may be lurking around the corner, waiting to offer you the wettest of my spit or the smelliest of my fart. I never liked the concept of 'tit for tat' more than now. Good luck with that.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

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.

Tuesday, March 05, 2013

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.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

I need to be paid more, because I put up with Mr. Grumpy

I have dealt with a lot of weirdos in my long life of 28 years. And most of them in my short working career of last 4 years. But then there are some people who clearly drive you to the brink of your patience.

So this colleague of mine thinks he is God's gift to mankind and the whole world is out there to make his life miserable. Here's what I want to tell him and yet, being the nice guy that I am (*sniggers*), can't, so I am venting it all out on my blog instead:

*You can't complain about 'work-life balance' when you come late to office, leave early, and play the whole day on your iPad. I mean have you ever looked at people around you and realized that each of us is slogging our asses off, while you sit on your over-sized bottom doing nothing whole day?

*Has there ever been a day when you have come to office and said, 'Wow, what a beautiful day! I am feeling hale and hearty'? I am amazed at the amount of creativity that goes into coming up with ailments such as 'involuntary spasms at the back of my upper arm' - use some of that on work-related things and I may actually like you.

*Are you really that gullible that everyone around you wants to cheat you and you have to have heated telephone conversations with them, demanding compensation, reversals, alleging mental harassment, wanting to speak to seniors of call center employees and what not. And all of this while you are in office. I mean why is that everyone from mobile operator, to credit card company, to doodhwala, to kaamwali bai, to insurance company, to retail chains, to local kirana store, wants to defraud you - within a span of a few hours, and this goes on in a loop?

*If you are walking with me on a crowded pavement, and people nudge past you, you cannot screech like a schoolgirl. No you can't.

*If you do decide to come with me for client meetings, don't expect me to ferry you around in cool-cabs. And if I have managed to cajole you into one of those yellow taxis, don't crib about heat and pollution. I have enough worries in my life that to tend to a 35 years old baby which throws tantrums every other minute.

I have a tough life at work. But then, I sometimes think, wouldn't life at work be boring if I didn't have people like you around.. 


Saturday, September 08, 2012

Tittle Tattle

Slight tickling in the ribs,
hiding a smile behind lips,
knuckles feeling light,
head spinning left and right.


It's not anything new,
and no, not something old,
Nothing worth nothing,
and no, not precious like gold.



No more she walked,
she hopped, skipped, and jumped,
No more she talked,
she sang, whistled and hummed.

The longing in the eyes,
and giggle in her pout,
Tittle tattle was all he did,
And she waited, day in and out.





Saturday, August 25, 2012

It roars, whether you like it or not

It will not make you roll in laughter at bawdy jokes or PG-13 innuendos. It does not have dhinchak songs that instantly get added to any DJ's playlist. The action sequences are not out-of-the-world like Wanted, Dabangg, Ready or Bodyguard. And, well, okay, it also has the same-ole story rehashed a hundred times in Bollywood already.

And yet, Tiger roars. Roars in its simple humor. Roars in music that slowly grows on you. Roars as it avoids easy traps of melodrama and mushy romance. Roars in amazingly beautiful cinematography. Roars as it rides as much on Katrina's petite shoulders as on Salman Bhai's machismo.

When you put two of the best looking stars in Bollywood together on screen, you don't ask for much more. But Ek tha Tiger offers more, and offers everything that Salman movies these days don't. Take that from a fan who has seen every shitty movie that ever starred Salman, and has adored all of them. 

It's a simple story, told simply. With some subtle, unadulterated fun.

And, talk about screen presence. Fucking screen presence. Just leave Salman on screen, yeah, and all is taken care of. Mashallah.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

The land of dragon tattoos, and low-rise jeans

This is not the time of the year when one would typically go to the hills - rainy weather, landslides, foggy view of the landscape and no snow. But then, we had to go somewhere (given that I was massively bored at home).. and decided on Darjeeling and Gangtok. Roped in (read blackmailed) some folks to join.. and up, up and away!

*If Kerala was the land of thick mustaches and split lungis, the northern hills are clearly the land of funky hairdos, dragon tattoos, low-rise jeans, visible underwear and more (my views on this rather eclectic fad here). The ladies in the group could only look wistfully at the hair-styles flaunted by the chinki females.

*They all look the same. No, I mean seriously. No offence meant, but if someone does something to you, and then makes a run for it, you can never, like never, identify him again.

*No vacation is ever complete without the customary fight with the travel agent. Ours was in the habit of asking 'extra' money for everything e.g. 'aap ropeway par chadenge kya?'
'haan... kyon?'
'matlab waiting ka extra Rs. 300 lagega'
'huh? tumko kya sirf ropeway dikhane ke liye hire kiya hai'
'yahan ka yahi niyam hai saab.. kissi se bhi pooch lo'
'!@#$%^'

'Aap log Nepal market mein local taxi mein chale jaana.. I will stay outside. They will charge Rs. 300'
'Tum kyon nahi aaoge?'
'Border Tax lagega'
'Hum pay kar denge tumko'
He paid Rs. 20 as the border tax and claimed Rs. 300 from us saying 'yahan ka yahi niyam hai!'

I will be filing an official complaint against him too. But that's another story.

*On our way back to New Jalpaiguri from Gangtok, we found a massive traffic jam on the highway caused by a landslide. I was amused to find that the driver (of the shared cab we were in) was delighted. He immediately announced - we will have to take a detour - per head extra Rs. 150. Some of the passengers protested - that's a lot all taken together.. the extra distance will not be much. He smirked... do you really have a choice?

*We found the place colorful. The houses were colored in bright hues, beautiful multicolored flowers decorated the verandas and balconies, the clothes worn by folks and their hair had dashes of vibrant colors, and most impressive were the colorful flags put up as a symbol of wish-fulfillment by the localites.

*We went to this place called Chaar Dhaam in Gangtok. Apart from hosting a massive statue of Lord Shiva, this place also had replicas of practically every sacred shrine of the Hindus to be found across the length and breadth of the country. Given how religious I am, I guess am done with my teerth yatra for lifetime.

*I have this new-found interest in Buddhist mythology - in particular, the symbolism depicted by dragons and scary looking devils/men in the murals painted on walls of monasteries. Any suggestions for good reads on this would be appreciated :-)


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Undo


If there was just one wish,
that could come true,
which one would you choose,
among the thousands that swarm your mind?


Leave it to the heart,
and it will fly around,
like a carefree bird,
hoping for the special, and the absurd.


The pleasures of the flesh,
royal wealth that's envy of the world,
beauty that inspires,
and intellect that wows generations to come?

Or to know what lies ahead,
in the realms of future,
the fate of those who are dear,
and enemies, far and near?

Or to simply erase,
misdeeds, errors and follies,
Undo and heal?
If there was just one wish.


Sunday, July 01, 2012

Pyaar mein kabhi kabhi


It was the summer of 2006 jab we met for the first time.
It was love at first sight.

It's been six long years, and we have stood by each other. Those were great moments we spent together - studying, playing games, and generally having fun. Days and nights, hours together, non-stop - with little care for the world around.

I got married, and my wife, erm.. accepted you as my first love.

On my 26th birthday, you fell ill. And I was livid. Then you had this amazing makeover and life was back to normal again.

I have fought for you. And loved you in spite of your tantrums. I would not let anyone else touch you.

But, now, it's not the same.

We need to talk. The fun is lost. The novelty is gone. I don't blame you - maybe, something within me has changed.

Laptop, it's true. You don't interest me the same way anymore.



Sunday, June 10, 2012

Popcorn tub, large coke and ample tears

Tears ran down Rani Mukherjee's cheeks as she spoke to her father on the phone. The father is evil and he wants her to earn money, at any cost.

P reached out for R's arm and held her tight. It was then I realized, that sitting in between two girls in a movie like 'Laaga Chunari Mein Daag' was a bad bad idea.

So, yeah, P was crying. And R consoled her with these endearing words, 'Men are like this only re, we are destined to suffer!' The fact that both of them will soon graduate from IIMB and actually bring many a men to tears in the corporate world clearly didn't matter. Also, they totally forgot that I, another 'evil' man sitting in the middle seat, could hear them. I was only supposed to look repentant on getting dirty glances from them every time a man made Rani Mukherjee suffer on the big screen in front of us.

End of part one.

The mother-in-law was at her best, hurling choicest abuses at the meek bahu. The entire confusion was actually a big misunderstanding - however, it was clear that, for now, the bahu has to suffer.

Thus ended a maha-episode of one of the most popular serials on TV, leaving the women in the house close to tears. The daughters-in-law (DIL) at home immediately burst into a tirade against the evil mother-in-law (MIL) on screen, also pointing out how in reality too the MILs don't understand the DILs at all. The MIL of the family, on the other hand, sided with the on-screen MIL and also took this opportunity to lambast the DILs in general. It does matter, of course, that the MIL and DILs at home are actually at peace, with no warring tendencies at all.

End of part two.

So, yeah, we, Indians, love drama. And we take this seriously enough. Be it Bollywood, Ekta Kapoor serials, IPL, Satyamev Jayate or anything else that can tug at our tear-ducts - we lurrrvve the drama.

The only problem I have with this whole nonsense is how people forget that what they are watching is scripted, fabricated, meant to entertain and not to be emulated or learnt lessons from. For example, all the male characters in these serials are pansies, with no dialogues, who cry like a girl whenever their girlfriends / wives are angry / upset, do not seem to have to work for a living and can be seen at home all the time showering praises on the women - such cutie pies they are! Now if all women start believing that this is how men should be, tab to ho gaya na!

Look at people from South India for example. Arrey, take these movies and these stars a little less seriously na?

End of random rant.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

What I want 2012 to be like

1. I don't want the world to end. No, really. All my cribbing on this blog may have given you the impression that I am living a miserable life. But, actually, it's not all that bad. I have decided I can live a few more years easily.

2. Since I wouldn't be dying anytime soon after all, I want my hair-fall to stop. I have done everything humanly possible (tried all those shampoos, visited far-flung salons, consulted dermatologists, bugged Sonia to apply oil on my head every night), even pleaded to God, nothing seems to work. I can't imagine living life as a bald, ageing banker.

[To make matters worse, all my bald colleagues, after taking note of my stressed looks these days, have started advising me to let go of the moh-maya. 'Nothing can be done', they whisper understandingly.]

3. I want more money in my bank account. What I have is not enough. They say that no amount of money can be enough. But I am not that greedy. I am willing to negotiate on the 'more' bit.

4. I want my work to be a breeze. Every client I meet must become a fan of my charisma instantly. They should  accept my proposals with glazed eyes and marvel at the sheer awesomeness of everything about me. They should have mini-orgasms when I present to them how working with me can change their lives and the way their business works. I want my bosses to think I am the best thing to have happened to the bank.

And all this should be done during 10AM to 5PM. I also have a life outside office (you loser with raised eyebrows)!

5. Since I am too lazy to exercise, I should have a near-perfect body (see, I don't want to be 'perfect' without effort.. and am willing to make do with only 'near perfect'). That would stop Sonia from bugging me about my bloating tummy more than anything else.

6. I want all my Facebook status updates to be 'liked' by ALL my friends and every post should have at least a dozen comments. I want my blog to be listed as the 'most popular blog by a middle-aged banker' by TIME Magazine (isn't that the magazine which brings out all such lists?). I want AdSense to offer to place advertisements on my Blog (which I shall reject) unlike last time when I applied for an AdSense account and they rejected my application *holds back tears*.

There are so many more wishes that I have. But then I don't wanna have too many expectations from the year (of doom, as they say) 2012. Signing out (for now).

Happy New Year folks..... have a great one :)



Sunday, December 04, 2011

Leap of Faith?

Being the adarsh Maru boy that I am, I got married pretty early in life. Yeah, it's been two years already! I don't even remember what it feels like to be a Khulla-saand anymore (as if I was really making any good use of my 'Khulla-saand' days *sigh*) Anyway, that's not the point.

So, one of the unwanted consequences of getting married early is that most of your friends still are bachelors. And like true friends, they do everything possible to make you realize what you are missing out on. But, now time has caught up with them. Wickets are falling by the hour. All my friends are getting hitched left, right and center. Evil grin.


Even this has an unwanted consequence for me though. Each of my friends, who is being regularly put on display to the parents of any eligible girl passing-by, comes to me seeking advice. Is this the right time? What qualities should I be looking for in her? What if I marry a wrong girl? How can I be sure she is the one? Why do people say all wrong things about marriages - is it really that scary a thing?


And I am as flummoxed as they are. How should I reply? There is no checklist against which you can tick-off qualities in a girl. You just know she is the right one when you see her. Are you always 100% sure.. maybe not. But then every call in life is a leap of faith, else where would the fun be, innit? I have known women to have mandatory criteria in mind when they look for a guy - rich, classy blah blah. But not guys, we go by guts and instincts.

And is the Game Over after marriage? Let's say that the grass looks greener on the other side - but you don't know until you have crossed over :)



Saturday, October 01, 2011

This time for Calcutta

A shy bride,
a forgotten princess,
a fairy with its ethereal charm,

With hint of glory, old,
A city will regain life,
Faces mirthful, hearts warm,



Streets will light up,
And stars'll shine the brightest,
With people, alleys aswarm,

For the Goddess is here,
And joy is here,
Blessed will be homes, blessed will be farms.


Sunday, September 11, 2011

Who would you rather be?

The poet, who paints on the canvas of thought,
And hums a forgotten tune as rhymes are wrought?
Beautiful is how the world seems to him,
But not him if surrealism is what you seek not.


The actor, who dons a new skin everyday,
and emotes without effort, as myriad layers peel away?
But to none does he reveal what hides in his heart,
So not him if for you, secrets are not part of the play.


The saint, who chooses that which is pure and austere,
With his heart all empty and mind unnaturally clear?
His desires ended even before the time could begin,
Never him if you think you could care for someone's tear.

The clown, and his dance, and his jokes, and his smile,
Who makes your day, with his simple style?
He is in everyone, and yet, none want this fate,
So why not him, if you haven't made anyone laugh in a while?

Sunday, September 04, 2011

As another Birthday goes by...


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