Bangalore Blues

Just another party in the city.

2011-05-19T01:06:00.000+05:30

Ragini had planned the perfect celebration. A small candle-lit dinner, with her boyfriend Mehul and some close friends, right in her house. It was going to be the perfect 1^st anniversary celebration ever. Except she hadn’t anticipated Hawaldar Rao and his colleague Chandra Reddy inviting themselves over. Apparently the inspectors had paid them a visit, after noticing couple of cars parked outside a house lit only with candles. “The four of us were just done with dinner and were chilling out on the terrace, when we heard someone’s voice downstairs. We went downstairs to see two policemen in my drawing room” says Ragini, who is renting an independent house in HXYZ Layout, Bangalore.

Ragini’s boyfriend Mehul further elaborates “They might have knocked once, before entering. One of them kept saying that it was a negligence on our part to leave the door unlocked. Though we apologized, they weren’t satisfied. In fact, that’s when they sat on our shoulders and demanded we go with them to the station on account of negligence to lock the door. Moreover they kept saying we were unknown guys in an unknown girl’s house beyond an unknown time, which was a crime. After that heck of a line we were given the option to either appear in court the next day or pay the fine there and then, which apparently was three thousand rupees. And when I asked for the receipt, they said I could collect it from the chowki, if I wanted it that bad. Unbelievable!”

When contacted, the SI at the local station, brushed off the matter saying “I wasn’t there personally, but you must report the entire story, of how in such cases, we find them indulging in immoral activities and let them off with nothing but a warning. We have a responsibility towards our society and it’s our duty to safeguard all it’s interests. I’m sure those kids are exaggerating the facts. In this case, my men pointed out to the resident, that her door was open, and this is what we get in return. We have absolutely no interest in being party spoilers, and such irresponsible kids and the media are the ones drawing a shabby picture of the police force.”

Ragini however maintains that the door was completely closed. “Maybe it wasn’t locked, but I’m sure it was closed. Either ways how can they just barge into a girl’s house at the dead of the night and demand money? Also they speak only in kannada and were completely drunk.”

Youngsters living in the city often complain that unlike Mumbai and Delhi, where clubs and restaurants remain open till about 3am, the 11:30 pm curfew in Bangalore is a mood damper, which is why they have to plan parties at home and risk waking up the neighbours or paying fines.

Ajay, an engineer and a resident of HXYZ layout, however points out “Girls generally are noisier and drunk girls are worse. We bachelors are awake till about 2am every weekend watching football and having chilled beer. Neither have we bothered anyone, nor has anyone bothered us.”

Peace

Hope and Faith

2011-05-19T00:43:00.000+05:30

The thing about life changing decisions is that all of them seem to be the perfect thing to do while you’re taking them. Even if they aren’t, one’s subconscious plays the mind game and convinces oneself that it is the right decision. These decisions, however radical and significant, seem super smart while making them. However after a few hours, the real importance of our choice begins to sink in. In some cases they seem wise, in most cases, scary. We often come to a point where we realize that an important piece of information was overlooked. That’s when a few nervous souls go into overdrive, giving their choices a second thought. Some of them stop and choose the other choice. Some accept it was a mistake and start again. Some, however stick by their choice strongly. They choose to, because of determination but more importantly, because of hope. Hope is perhaps man’s last weapon, in his armory. Hope is fuelled by faith. The stronger the faith, the higher the hopes. Perhaps that’s why a billion souls hope for a victory every time Sachin Tendulkar walks into the ground. Had Dhoni, not had enough faith in himself, he wouldn’t have bat up the order, and hoped to seize the WC. Leaders aren’t men, who take the right decision. Leaders are those who take a decision and prove it right.

Never analyze your options more than what is required. A good friend once said, over-analysis leads to paralysis. It’s not possible to sit in a room and see yourself 10 years from now. Those who say, they saw, lied. They didn’t see, but they hoped. Only the ones that truly believes in themselves can achieve what they hope for. Hope and faith are inter-dependent. One needs to have faith to hope and some need hope to strengthen their faith. These are what life’s most important decisions are made of. A hope for a better life and the faith that we can achieve what we hope for. Hope and Faith.

One Language, One spirit

2011-01-30T14:32:00.000+05:30

Music influences everything. If not in a Hans Zimmer way, then in an Ilayaraaja manner. I find it wonderfully ubiquitous and subtle at the same time. I believe there’s music in sunshine, in that special someone’s laughter, and even in the most powerful 3 worded sentence in the world. Just as there’s music in everything that’s good, there’s music in bad too. Some listen to sad, heart wrenching songs, after a bad break up, whereas other prefer a specific rock song, by puddle of mud. We often resort to music not just to express our emotions, but also to understand them.

Music influences us as individuals, our moods, our relationships, our sleep patterns and our work. It has the power to change one’s status update on Facebook. I may not hook up with someone, because she listens to lady gaga, and yet, I may bend the rules for a Katy Perry fan. Music, helps me introspect, retrospect and sometimes circumspect and not because my name means so, but because a structured arrangement of vocal tones knows how to work my mind. The lyrics have never really meant much to me. I always hear the hidden melody before the words. It’s the way my strings have been stretched.

There is a reason why A R Rahman is loved world over. Be it, his evergreen chotti si aasha or the ever inspiring OST for 127 hours, almost everyone ends up in awe of what this man has composed. That’s what true music really is; A language or a religion of it’s own. It doesn’t have taboos or moral ethics. Music, in fact shapes them. There is neither any kind of feudal system nor any high priest. One language, one spirit.

I do not intend to tell you about my favourite band nor do I want to influence the way you think about me. But If by now, you aren’t convinced that I’m insane, then I guess, you and I probably like listening to same kind of music.

The UNESCO Heritage Triangle, Karnataka ride..

2011-01-26T15:53:00.000+05:30

At 06:00am, the alarm went buzz. I woke up well aware that going back to sleep was not an option if the UNESCO Heritage Triangle, Karnataka, ride was to happen. There was a change in plans, one of my favourite “couples” was joining me and my roomie, on this ride. Though they wouldn’t want to ride the bikes at all, I thought it was awesome that they too wanted to join. Woke them up, twice, over the phone, and before we knew, it was 7 already. Being one of the first trips, we faced delays due to improper planning namely, bike tuning, important docs, food etc. Result: We hit the road at 8am L

Owing to the traffic, it took us some time to get to NICE road from where we headed to Neelamangala. From there, a left will take you onto NH 48, straight to Shravanabelagola. The NH was under repairs, so it was a “two way” road. Made a mental note, to avoid biking on this route at night. Around 11am, and we thought it was the perfect time to break for some food. Being a highway, there were dhabas (roadside diners) at a distance of every 10 kms or so, only problem being, all of them were closed. We made do with the apples that we had brought along with us from home. 35kms from Shravanabelagola, we found a CCD (read jannat). Got some grub, refreshed ourselves and after an hour, we were back on the road again.

Next stop was the town of Shravanabelagola, famous for it’s Jain temple, which has this huge (55 feet)statue of Gomateshwar. Infact, as one approaches the city, the silhouette of a man on top a hill is perhaps what you notice first. Once at the gates, u realize, that a 10-15 minute climb awaits you (nearly 600 steps). Socks were being sold at dirt cheap rates (Rs 10/pair). One shouldn’t climb the stairs wearing shoes and the ground is quite hot too. While climbing, we were overtaken by hordes of school kids who, I believe climb these stairs for fun, regularly. On top, a wonderful view of the Chandragiri hill and the temple pond awaited us. It was the first Jain temple I had been to, and found the architecture very interesting. Especially of the Triuta Basadi. It’s been carved out of a single rock, with attention being paid to the slightest of details. Holy text has been inscribed on the statue, and on top the hill. Legend has it that he meditated in that posture for a complete year, which explains the creepers around his limbs. The next Mahamastabhisheka (which is the most important pooja of the town) happens in 2016 (once in 12 years). And as the priest explained all this to us, click click, went my camera. After our descent, we lunched at this rajasthani bojanalay, the food was homely, yet tasty. Next stop was Hassan, 51kms from Shravanabelagola. We were beat, on reaching Hassan and we halted at Hotel Kadamba, which is quite reasonable, with the exception that it doesn't have a geyser in the rooms.

The next morning we headed to the sinking church of Shettihalli (which very few people in Hassan know). 16kms from Hassan, in the small and perhaps forgotten hamlet of Shettihalli, is a church submerged half way in water. I guess it’s accessible during the summers. It was built by a few French missionaries. Click, click again. After an hour or so, we headed to Belur (36kms from Hassan). The Hassan-Belur stretch has one of the most awesome roads I have ever been on. The condition of the roads, the curves, the windmills en route, all in all a splendid ride. The temples at Belur, built in quintessential Hoysala architecture, are part of the UNESCO world heritage sites. The carvings on the temple walls, of the gods, the goddesses, the beautiful dancers, and the glorious history surrounding them are truly magnificent. Ask a guide to show you around (you get to know a lot of fun stuff). 18kms from there is Haleebidu. Now, the temple at haleebidu isn’t active. I found the temple interiors more interesting than the exteriors. The temple had a garden for a compound and an adjoining lake, unlike the Belur temple which, in comparison, I feel is more conventional in it’s architecture. From then on it was back to Hassan, and almost lunch time (Actually it was way past lunchtime around 3pm). Lunched at Hassan and ended up leaving at 5pm, because of which I broke my golden rule of not riding the highways at night, again :P. 2 butt breaks during the return journey, and at around 9pm, we were back in Bangalore. I had travelled for nearly 320kms in the past 24 hours (my personal best).

Lessons Learnt:

Have everything ready, by the night before (especially the bike papers)
Start early, that’s when the traffic is less and the Enthu is high.
Don’t ride on the highways at night, again. :D

So that was January 2011. Wondering which temple, beach, awesome routes await me next month.

Here are the pics : Jan trip 2011

The dress code dilemma

2010-07-15T02:45:00.002+05:30

Remember this?

Sid’s first day at work. Sid, from Wake up Sid. Well, that’s me every Monday morning.Well apart from the ~~negligible~~ minor physical differences, I'm Sid at that very moment, every Monday morning. It goes on till Friday. No, my dad does not own a MNC, but I feel exactly what Sid feels right then. Out of place. No, not because, IT ain’t cool. But because of the dress code. 3 out of 5 days, every morning, in the lift, I am, the only one among 18 people, to be dressed in tee-shirt and jeans. It’s been 2 years, since I’ve been working here and I try to avoid formals as much as possible. Why, because I find it uncomfortable. Till this date, it hasn’t affected my performance or that of the team’s. But the Windsor Ramanujams and Louis Mukul Phillipes would flatly disagree. The 5 minutes that I spend in reaching the 11^th floor has got to be the most critical of all the minutes in my entire day. Hey, I don’t even wear tees with writings like this or like this. Mine’s a simple, non-sky-blue colour, pure cotton, round neck tee-shirt. That, along with a pair of non-comfort fit jeans, has the power to change the contour lines on their faces from plains to volcanic mountain ranges. And it’s in no way obscene. There is no skin show or a baal ka dukaan open either. Why then, am I constantly reminded that my dressing sense may be counterproductive to business?

At client locations, folks come in shorts and flip flops. Some come along with their cats and dogs. Some of the smartest minds of the industry work there. If they aren’t particular about us being in formals for client meetings, why then should I dress my arse in pleated, dark coloured, trousers and my feet with shiny black leather for normal days? Considering, all I do is sit behind my cubicle, interacting with clients, on phone or through mails, why then should, the security at the gate, send me back home, for not wearing a tie, on a hot Monday morning.? Are such strict measures really necessary? In fact, I still don’t understand why any boss would fire someone like her, on grounds of bad dressing.

As long as the employee’s clothes aren’t a source of distraction at work, or a topic for water cooler gossips, or don’t influence market ka-booms, I don’t see why an IT company like mine, should have a stringent dress code.

Yr 1, Day 1: NITD

2010-07-12T20:25:00.000+05:30

This one is an old post, from my first blog. The blogspot got deleted due to no activity. I recently discovered this, in my mailbox.

My First Blog:

CHAPTER 1:

There was something different. For the past 17yrs he had woken up to see his dad ironing his uniform and saying, “ It’s 6:15 already! Get your ass out of the bed and get ready.” All these years those were more or less the first words he heard every morning. It irked him and tempted him to go back to sleep. But today was different. The room was silent. In fact , it wasn’t his bedroom at all. There were no curtains draped on the windows nor were there any posters stuck on the walls. He turned to his right to see the green timepiece that he had bought yesterday show 6:30am. Sitting upright, the room came into full focus. It was just slightly bigger than his bedroom, but to think that this room was going to be his house for the next one year, made him frown and fret. Then he noticed someone sleeping on the bed to his left. It was the weirdest posture he had ever seen and it amused him to think as to how anyone could sleep cross-legged. ‘Might have come in the night’ he thought to himself. He returned his gaze to the room. It was adequately furnished. 3 tables,3 beds, 3 tube lights and 2 fans. The bed in-front lay empty. Maybe the owner would turn up today, he guessed. He got up and went up to his mobile which lay on the table.
“ Hell, no messages or missed calls” he said to himself. He rummaged into his airbag that lay on the shelf, searching for his toothbrush and paste. As he opened the door, the cool wind hit his face. ‘hmm, that felt good’ He could see through his squinted eyes, the rooms on the other side of the hall. It was just like the hostels he had seen in the movies, a 3 storey building with a quadrangle. As he headed towards the bathroom he noticed that many of the occupants hadn’t arrived yet as most of the doors were still latched. ‘Man, this bathroom was huge or what’.
As he brushed his teeth, he thought about the boy that stared back at him in the mirror. He longed to go back home. He wanted to see his mother. He missed his family and longed to hear his father shouting at him for taking too much time in the bathroom. Sometimes he felt that he could hear the sound of ‘suprabatham’, but then who would play it here, in west Bengal he thought to himself. Madhan washed his face and headed back to his room. His room mate was still asleep, and it was 7:15 already. Talk about ethics he thought. He headed to the mess downstairs for breakfast. There were some 20 odd guys in the mess, some with their parents and others sitting alone. Taking his plate of pooris and an extremely small cup filled with tea, Madhan looked around to find a table.By one of the tables, sat a guy with a familiar face. Hoping an acknowledgement madhan smiled. The dude nodded and smilied in return. ‘Thank god’ madhan thought to himself ‘that could have been an embarrassing moment’ As he sat, madhan nearly dropped the plate. ‘Wow, I’m already a clumsy idiot now’ he thought.
First few moments were filled with an awkward silence. ‘I guess I gotta break the ice’ madhan thought to himself and was about to say something when..
“ So, where r u from?”
“Huh, what?”
“Where’r you from?”
“Oh, I’m from Mumbai” madhan lied, feeling it would take ages to explain where Muscat is, apart from other things.
“Oh Yea, I forgot”
“U knew I was from Mumbai?”
“Yea, we met yesterday evening remember?”
Oh crap! Awkward moment, madhan thought to himself. He didn’t have the faintest clue as to who the hell the dude in-front of him was but he decided to play the game anyways.
“Yea, I remember. Where did u say u were from?”
“Goa.”
“What’s your AIEEE rank?”
That’s the question Madhan had been dreading ever since he entered the college. He didn’t want to lie a lot right on the first morning of his college life, so he explained to him the entire process.
“Oh k, so u didn’t give AIEEE at all huh?”
“I did, screwed it up big time, got about 57K”
“hmm…”
“How much did you get?”
“60”
Madhan felt as if hit on the head suddenly. ‘Great way to start your day madhan. Now Mr. Topper thinks you’re an idiot!’ However he tried to hide the embarrassment.
“Wow, all India rank 60…dats something man!”
“Naa..state rank 60, my AIEEE rank is 1 lac plus”
“Eh!!... I mean oh ok… so ur AIEEE rank is 1 lac plus.” said madhan, suddenly feeling better that he wasn’t the only dumb dude in this college. “Which branch?” “ECE” . “Hey cool, I’m in ECE too. What’s your name by the way?” “I’m AD” “ Hi, I’m madhan”. “Which room r u put up in, i’m in 227 btw.” “Cool, I’m just beside urs ,226.”
As they reached their rooms, people had already woken up and rounds of introduction were going on. “Hi, I’m Sunil. Yourself?” said a short dude with spectacles. Madhan felt as if he was searching them with his squinted eyes whose eyebrows seemed to change shapes super fast. “I’m madhan, I’m AD” “Which branch? I’m in civil from UP” and he began rattling off in one of the best hindi madhan had ever heard in his life. People did speak hindi back in school, but that was more like hinglish and tapori. Anyways Madhan never had the confidence in speaking hindi. But then Sunil rattling off in hindi at like shatabdi made Madhan want to stop him right there.
“How many rooms have been occupied yet?” Madhan asked trying to fake an accent. It must have worked because Sunil had stopped, raised his eyebrow and now seemed to search Madhan.(atleast that’s what Madhan felt) “I don’t know, I have not met everybody in the wing. But I know my roommates. All of us are from UP, Lucknow. What about yours?”
‘There, another question., man, this guy never stops’ thought madhan.

“Mine’s from Nepal” AD said.
“Nepal, wow dats interesting. Mine’s still sleeping. I doubt if he would wake up anytime soon. He came really late yesterday night, I was half asleep by then” said Madhan not wanting to be the ignorant one.
People all over were shaking hands and stuff. No one noticed the time fly. There was this tall boy who seemed to find everything around him funny and reminded Madhan of Gabbar Singh from the movie Sholay, called himself Shiv. Then there was the wacky paaji, jack whom AD and Shiv had begun laughing on seeing itself. (“The dude’s like a few inches above the ground” AD later had defended…) Mahesh was the weirdest of them all. Madhan had mistakenly hit into him and apologized” sorry uncle.” “I’m not an uncle I’m only 18.” ‘The dude looked like the father of two kids’ thought Madhan. There was also Moorthy who like madhan was an NRI from Kuwait. Madhan felt that moorthy would probably be the only one with whom he could actually realte as their wavelengths met almost perfectly and moreover, Moorthy was the ecstatic one who kept saying “NRI” every time he and madhan had something in common. But yea madhan did feel the latter part of his behavior a little weird. Madhan had also made some good mallu friends like Joe(he defines the “looks can be deceiving” saying) , Khan ( all the way from lakshwadeep), Ravi( from Andaman and Nicobar islands) and Chandran (whom he thought to be a bully at first).
It was almost lunch time when madhan’s roommate woke up. “Hi I’m Billa” “I’m Madhan and this is AD. Where from dude?” “I’m from Chennai” “Oh cool, I’m from Kerala” said madhan. “I thought you were from Mumbai” said AD. “I am, but basically from kerala” ‘Confusion already, better not say anything about Muscat’. “I have couple of malayalee friends back home. Yea we’re really close.” put in Billa.
“Oh,ok” replied madhan unsure of what he meant. “Hey any idea of ragging?”
“I know a senior very well. He is my neighbour back home. I have told him to bring my bags. He’s a cool chap so no tension at all.” replied Billa proudly ‘Hmm, this guy’s got contacts, might as well sitck with him, may escape the entire ragging’ thought madhan, and he had a feeling that AD was pretty much thinking on similar lines.
The day was filled with introductions and hand shakes. Madhan would have probably met the entire pandi lot (later to be known as thambis), whom he thought to be extremely noisy. He never liked thambis. He hated their films even more. They sure were a noisy lot, just as he had expected. Ali spoke only English, but like 600 words a minute. Machha and Specs Machha were pure thambis, anyone could say that. Murali was a mallu from Chennai. PK was this interesting dude, whose father was in Indonesia. But manja or panja or someone like that, seemed like a silent dude just like bala.
“Hey Panja, where are you from originally?”
“ The name is Gunja, dude..” he said standing up.
That’s when Madhan realized how short he was. For a second he felt intimidated by Gunja’s height.
“..and yea I’m actually from Bihar” completed Gunja.
And that’s when madhan felt that Gunjan was after all a laaloo..
During dinner there was this guy who kept talking a lot of figures as if he was some statistician. Madhan felt he was a bore right then. As the queue moved forward , this dude was so engrossed in his speech about restructuring in the admission processes in institutes of national importance and it’s consequences on god know what…didn’t realize the queue in front of him move.
‘What an idiot’ madhan thought to himself and simply overtook “mr. boring”
“Hey wait a minute! I was standing there”
Madhan turned back to see mr. Boring pointing his fat index finger right in his face.” “Well now you clearly aren’t ”©
“What do you mean?. Get out of the line if you cant obey rules”
“Who the hell are you to throw me out of the line Mr.? You, like an idiot, did not know when the line moved and it clearly isn’t my fault if you were day dreaming”
Things could have gone way out of control hadn’t Billa come out of nowhere. “Madhan, forget it da, he’s my friend.”
Now madhan didn’t want to fight with his room mate for 2 reasons. One being, he was his room mate for the entire year, and the second being, the dude had contacts with seniors, he could save him from ragging.
“Ok da, if you say so.” saying so madhan stepped back.
“What does he think of himself, the fool, does he think he can have his own way? How can he ju….” began mr. boring really loudly.
‘Some complain box, cheapskate’ madhan thought to himself.

That was pretty much what happened to madhan on his very first day in NIT D.
Keep watching this space.

PS : Mr. Boring is Vaid, who later on becomes a close friend of Madhan

©Till this date, Madhan does not know why he said that.

END OF CHAPTER 1 OF YR 1

Venus and Mars

2010-07-10T16:19:00.000+05:30

WOMEN

Just-got-engaged: (with eyes wide open) Look, at what he gave me?!!? 22 carat pure Gold!!

Single and looking: Oh my.. its amazing. Look how big it is.

In a relationship since 6 yrs: Sweet, but I hope he really loves you.

Just -got-engaged: Of course he does. Why would you say so?

In a relationship since 6 yrs: Well, if you ask me, you guys just met like yesterday. So am just looking out for you darling.

Single and bi: Don’t worry, he’ll love u and all. How’s he in bed?

Just-got- engaged: (eye wink).

Single and looking: (lost in dreams)You’re so lucky, how come I don’t meet such guys.

Divorced : Fuck this shit. Keep the ring, screw him, take the cash and run for it!!

MEN:

Just-got-engaged: Guys, I proposed to her yesterday, and she said yes.

Single and looking: Wow that’s fast, but hey! Congrats dude.

In a relationship since 6 yrs: I admire your courage soldier. I still get cold feet thinking about marriage.

Just-got-engaged: What do u mean. You’ve been with her since 6 yrs.

In a relationship since 6 yrs: Yea, I know, that’s why it’s a sticky situation. Am just hoping for the best, for you, and me.

Gay : Oh my!! (sigh) That is sweet, but, just to be absolutely certain, there’s still a year for your marriage right?

Just-got-engaged: I don’t know. Date’s not fixed. A year seems long though.

Single and looking: You know what, you can be my wingman now. Hook me up with some hotties will ya?

Divorced: What’s wrong with you guys? Haven’t you learnt anything. Screw her, break up, and switch the original ring with a fake one, while she's asleep!!

What i learnt in school, college and at work #1

2010-02-25T00:12:00.004+05:30

Back in school, I was in a class of 45 students. There were 8 of us guys. The rest called themselves girls. Now, for an engineering student (especially from NITs and IITs)this would come 2nd place, in the "i want to be" list, right under [Software Engineer, Google]. Anyway, here's what i learnt then...

1.In any class vote, your (the miniority) opinion will be the most sought after.

2. In a group that BIG, there's always that 1 girl who will defeat you in an arm wrestling match.

3. If you are the class representative, there is no (@#*!)ing way in hell, you would be able to keep this class silent.

4. You piss one girl off, and you're branded for life! That one incident could be a topic of discussion for many reunions later on.

5.You like 1 female from your class--> You have broken another's heart. (Doesn't matter if your crush doesn't like you, your still a Jerk.)

6.If you value your reputation one teeny weeny bit, never ever think, your a stud!!... NEVER!

7. They can never be united. Divide and Rule works perfectly. Well, at least the divide part of it.

8. Dare and Confess/Spin the bottle would be the best game you will ever play... till you hear of something called Counter Strike.

2009--->@Work. Team of 15, 3 guys.

1.If you want to talk about the new, office babe with your female team mates, you will refer to her as dumbo/stupid/idiot. "bi(A)tch" earns you brownie points.

2.If they say they can't code. They mean it. They will not try and you shouldn't try convincing them either.

3. You always keep an extra handkerchief. Your new "full stop" could be any one amongst please, pretty, and chocolate.

4.You will avoid every single discussion that starts with "men". They are likely to end with "bastards".

5.You shall pray for forgiveness for the woman, if she says "Whats the big deal with (the almighty) Sachin hitting a 200?"

I gotta admit, after writing the above, i cant help but wonder what Bryan Adams meant, when he sang "Have you ever REALLY loved a woman..."

P.S : College (2004-2008): I did ENGINEERING, in ~~durgapoor~~, Durgapur

8 things people have just gotta learn

2010-02-03T21:58:00.005+05:30

1.> Sangeetha isn’t a guy’s name. But Sangeet is. You cannot be dumb enough to speak to a guy and ask him “Am I speaking to Sangeetha?”. I know, there may be exceptions, but lets not think too much here people.

2.> I am not from Kuwait. I have never been to Kuwait. I’m from a small and beautiful city called Muscat, the capital of the Sultanate of Oman (or just Oman). Look it up.

3.> Dubai isn’t the only country in the middle east. (oh and I don’t live there either)

4.> Nobody, and I repeat NOBODY from my family is an Arab.

5.> My dad doesn’t work in an oil well. (and as we’re on similar lines) He doesn’t own one either.

6.> I am not a tamilian and not everone who speaks tamil, is one.

7.> It’s been one and a half years since I left Reliance Energy. It doesn’t really matter anymore why I did so. (No, I wasn’t terrorized by the engineers or the villagers there)

8.> No matter what you’re reason is, I will so definitely abuse you in the same phone call, if you ask ,SANGEETHA SOMASHEKAR, to hear about whatever credit card your selling.

Main hoon kaauunn...??

2010-01-17T02:09:00.008+05:30

Madhan. That’s my name and this is where I replicate my version of things that happen around me.

You must be informed before hand, that being regular at this isn’t something I’m good at.

What you read here isn’t a complete work of fiction. Nor is it the kaddva sachhu (bitter truth). Its pretty much a 50-50 biscuit of the both.

Does it matter to me what you think of my blog?. ~~Not at all~~ Of course it does, else all this would have been top secret stuff. Do drop a comment on what you thought of my blog, now and then. If nothing, it would make a chubby dude, sitting half-way across the globe, happy, and I’m not speaking about me...

I have a six pack. :)

Just another scribble...

2009-12-29T15:25:00.004+05:30

I scribble a lot. On notepads, desks, blackboards, any clean space for that matter. Most of them don’t make sense often. I was punished (had to stand facing the wall for half and hour :) ) couple of times, for scribbling on the wall. You’re probably saying “been there, done that” right now. Anyways, this is something I had scribbled away, on a napkin, that I recently found, at a CCD (Café Coffee Day), in the city of Bangalore, once upon a time…

U brought me to my knees,
u gave me wings,
a feeling like never before,
fortified by the warmth of sunshine.

memories haunt me day and night,
days begin and end with you.
a constant search prevails,
for that call, message or sign.

unfazed by what happens,
a madness takes over,
blinds me. I see now,
what went wrong,
but I question its worth.

that one smile,
that one touch,
that one kiss,
the one sentence,
a second, a lifetime lived,
every single time, always.

-Madhan

I wish i didn't remember

2009-11-03T17:46:00.009+05:30

MORAL DISCALIMER: Doing drugs is uncool. Doing someone, isn't.
What i've written is a result of boredom. Replicating events
mentioned below would probably get you in jail, or worse still,
in hell.

STATUTORY WARNING :Contains profanity and Mary Jane.

9:30 pm
A girl in her early twenties opened the door. Dressed, in a white sleeveless shirt and denim jeans, she was unmistakably pretty. Had I not met her before, I wouldn’t have guessed that she was from Kerala. Guessing her ethnicity was as difficult as guessing that John Abraham was half malayalee.
“Hi Madhan, come in.” she spoke with a husky voice, the one that causes butterflies to flutter in you.
As, I entered the doorway, past the husky sounding keralite, into the drawing room, I was greeted by smoke. But strangely, it didn’t bother me.
“Varoo kanna, varoo (come kiddo, come)” said Suraj, my colleague from work. A typical mallu who lived life large. I envied him with all my heart. I had always envied malabaris like him. Another one in college, whose name meant the same as Suraj. He was sitting beside another girl whom I hadn’t seen before. Probably a friend of Meera, the one who opened the door.
“Vaa (come), we’ve been waiting for you man. What took you so long?”
“I was busy. Had some work.” I lied. I didn’t want them to know that I was just spending time in my own misery.
“Madhan, you should have come with us to Fusion. It was great fun.” said Meera, as she grabbed my hand and led me to sit between her and the other girl. “Here, meet my friend, Dia. Dia, this is Madhan.”
We shook hands. I couldn’t help but notice her eyes. They were sunk in their deep and dark sockets. As though she hadn’t slept in ages. She had a beautiful face, and beautiful skin. Perhaps, in a different place, at a different time, she would have been a head turner.
The setup was simple, two beds, were adjoined to each other. Couple of newspapers were spread out. An ashtray rest in the centre of the newspaper. Judging by the bottle of signature on the floor, and the smoke in the room, I figured that the three had been drinking whisky and smoking joints.
“Here you go” said Meera as she handed me a large and a joint.

Many rounds later…
“Kaunsa number hai Madhan? Kuch yaad hai?” asked Dia.
“Fuck, who cares re..” I replied, as the fumes escaped my nostrils, to form another face of Mary Jane hovering above Dia’s head. It had been hours since I smoked my first joint. I passed the chillum to Dia. “I’m beat guys, I feel so freakinn lazy.” It was true. I was too lazy to lift my head off Dia’s lap. She didn’t seem to mind it anyways. Girls, I thought to myself, they can be the sweetest creatures at times. Dia was, I don’t know, I had never been with a girl like her before. I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she really was. I loved the way the smoke escaped her lips, slow and sexy. I was turned on, even in that intoxicated state, the horny bastard that I was. Suddenly she glanced down at me.
“Dude, stop checking me out!”
“Why, does it bother you?”
“Hell, yes. It’s like you’re eyes are some smoky x ray machine or something.”
“Dia, you know, you are very sexy, but in a beautiful way. Had I not been so fucking beat in your lap, I would have kissed you.”
“What makes u think I would have let you to.”
“Cos I’m one helluva kisser and am sure you’re one too.” I replied barely even looking at her.
Later, I realized I shouldn’t have said that. We shouldn’t have gotten so close. It was wrong on my part.

1:00 am
I couldn’t button my shirt. The buttons were ripped out. I wanted to leave, I wanted to run away as fast as possible. Dia was shouting at me. “What happened dude? Are u going to tell me or not?”
Boy, she didn’t look that good now. I was thirsty. I wanted water. There was none. I gulped down some red bull. Suraj was asking me not to go, but he was too lazy to stop me. I opened the door, Just then Dia pulled me by the arm.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know, I have to go.”
“Like this?? This is not good”
“No, this is fine. Don't care about me. I’m going, let me go.”
She then moved closer, her left hand on my face. I looked away and pulled myself away, opened the door and stepped out.
“None of this happened. All this is crap. I need some oxygen, I don’t want to hurt you Dia. Goodnight.” That was the last I said before heading out into the dark night hearing Dia scream something about me being a fucking prick. Slowly her voice faded away, as I approached the street lights.

“Men reveal what they think when they look away, and what they feel when they hesitate. With women, it’s the other way around."
-fromGregory David Roberts, Shantaram

Why long distance relationships rock.

2009-09-18T15:50:00.014+05:30

Neil, are you sure? Don’t you think you’re moving a little too fast? I mean commitment, and the whole long distance thing... man, they kind of suck you in, like a black hole.
Neil, my friend of 10 years turned around and faced me. Neither of us had realized when things had come to this.
“Madhan, I’ll give you three reasons, why I think my long distance relationship will work, in fact why it’s going to rock.

1.We love each other. I mean it. Sometimes, what we share amazes me. No, don’t look at me like that man. You would probably understand it at some point of time. You’ll feel it in you, and it feels like heaven.”
Unable to see the point he was making I waved it off. “Whatever man! None of that made sense to me, so NEXT!”

“2. it’s meant to be so, dude. It’s like a curtain raiser for the next step. You really can’t ignore it. It’s an important leg of the big journey called love which is a part of the even bigger journey called life.”
“Whoa! Oh k Mr. Alchemist. Lets, for a second, think about this journey. There are bound to be problems. What’s going to happen then? Now don’t get excited. I’m not saying you guys will break up or anything, but there are just too many issues, that need to be considered.”
“Like what?”
“Like... I don’t know... ok how about staying in touch?”
He gave a smile, the ones you give, when you’re asked the lamest question in the universe, “Mobile phone, e-mail, gtalk, skype, orkut... dude you are so not web 2.0”
“Alright, let’s look at this your way. In this “journey” of yours, what if you face a puncture? Or what if you both run out of fuel? What if you get lost in a desert, where there is no green grass, no blue lakes, just strong, hot, sandstorms. What would you do then? Do you see it now? I mean, do you have a guarantee or something??”

Neil looked at me. His face told it all. It was calm, not nervous as some would be, as mine would be. It was a solemn look. One of determination and confidence. Was he expecting this question? If not, then why did his answer seem to be one that had been rehearsed a hundred times in front of the mirror? Why did it feel right?
“Have you heard of oases Madhan? They are like small glimpses of heaven for a traveller stranded in a desert. They say, one finds an oasis only in dire times of need. And dude, you forget that deserts are nothing but reservoirs of fuel. I just need to know where to dig, where to search. Madhan, stop thinking of life as a shopping mall, where I can ask for a replacement, or where I can opt for a money back offer. Life isn’t complicated at all. It’s just how we make it out to be.”

“And point three is, I LOVE this woman yaar. I feel super amazing with her. It’s not about whether we can make it through or not. It feels right. I mean, we are totally mad about each other and perhaps, I don’t know, but maybe she’s the one. Dude, I tell you, meeting her was fate and becoming her friend was destiny, but falling in love with her, that’s something I had no control over.”

I stared at him. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t prepared myself for the conversation to turn this way. “Neil, you really love her, don’t you?”
“I do, and I’ve never been this sure about anything else in my life.”
I smiled, thinking about what he had just told me. “I guess, I envy you man. I envy you both. God bless you.”

“Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope. Sometimes we cry with everything except tears. In the end that’s all there is: love and its duty, sorrow and its truth. In the end that’s all we have - to hold on tight until the dawn”
--from Gregory David Robert’s Shantaram

A drive down memory lane

2009-09-07T21:33:00.010+05:30

8:30 am, NH 7— I had been waiting, since the past 15 minutes, carrying a black bag and waving my arms like a traffic policeman, in an attempt to stop almost anything on wheels for a lift. I thought about my boss, who was probably going to blow her head off, when I reach. But then, who cares. They knew I was underpaid. Just then, a car slowed down near me. The man behind the wheel, a spectacled, pot bellied fellow, spoke with a dash of an accent that seemed to be something between British and Australian “Need a lift my friend?”

I acknowledged him, by nodding my head and hopping in the passenger seat beside that of the driver. “Thanks a lot. It would be great if you could drop me near the fly-over.” I said, meaning it.

The driver, someone in his late twenties, asked without looking up from the wheel “Where are you headed to by the way?”

“Marathalli. Would be going there by any chance?” I asked, as I strapped in the seat belt. I hoped that he was, as it would save me a lot of time and money, if he would drop me till office.

He glanced at me through his dark spectacles and replied “Yea, I am…. Say, are you from NIT Durgapur, by any chance?”

Now, this was one of those moments I always dreaded, ever since I left college. I had found out, that I was pathetic at remembering names. I was always left embarrassed, as I proved to my batch mates, that I had forgotten their names in a year. It’s not that I had never spoken to them back in college, but somehow, I seemed to have forgotten many faces and most names. Though somehow, I felt, he wasn’t one of them. He seemed too old to be my batch mate. As I tried to remember, I replied, “Yes, I am… are you?”

“Yup, you’re a mallu right??” came the next question.

“Yea!... ok, I’m terribly sorry, I’m just not able to place u in my head, have we met before?” I asked trying to sound least embarrassed as possible.

“I passed out in 2005” replied the mysterious pot bellied driver. “I was in the thambi family”

Then, the realization hit me. “Whoa, wait a sec, I remember you, you’re… Biju, final year thambi!!!”

“No, actually I’m Varun, but it’s ok, at least you recognized me. But, I’m sorry I’m not too good with names, I just don’t seem able to recall your name.”

“I’m madhan, man, Varun, you’ve changed. Wow…. how have you been?”

“Ah, yes, Madhan, right, right. I’m good. Was in UK for sometime now. Just returned 2 days ago. How are you? Are you in touch with any one else?”

“I’m fine.. Yea, in touch with couple of guys….”

And then yours truly and his new found friend talked about how much has changed over the past 4 years. We caught up on, who was doing whom and who was doing what and where, profs., reunions, and the usual college nostalgia. The half-an-hour drive was far different from my daily office rides in BMTC volvo.
As we neared my destination, Varun turned to me, and said. “Hey Madhan , listen… about what happened back in college. That was just ragging. I know you must have forgotten it already, but I want to say sorry for slapping you then.”

Now, after 4 years, Those 301 technical advice (that’s what slaps were called then) I had received, and with this sudden mention, the hard and bloody ones flashed in my mind together, almost at once. I remembered his. It was, what the seniors called, a “squash shot”. It had been hard, so hard, that I nearly fell down. I had decided for vengeance then.

“Hey, no issues man. You’re right I had forgotten it. And besides, that was 5 years ago, chill maadi.” I replied with a smile so fake, that even Mona Lisa would envy it.

“Yea right! Good seeing you again bro! Here, take my number, we should stay in touch. Keep me informed, the next time there’s a reunion ok..?”

“Yea, I will.. you do the same too. Hey, that’s my stop.” I pointed out. I got out of the car, and closed the door behind me. “Thanks Varun, was great meeting you man”

“Yea, you take care..”
I paused for a minute, and then said “Hey, there’s something, you gotta know. Remember that day, when u asked me to refill the water bottles?
Varun laughed.“No, not really… I think you’ve refilled couple of times. I guess I have asked you to bring me food, couple of times too. That’s what you junis did back then, serve us” said Varun, with a silly smirk.

“Yea.. right, about that, I spat in them.”
The laughter was cut short.
“And perhaps, in the food too, not every single time though.”

What followed was an awkward silence, and puzzled expressions on either faces. I had to break it.
“So, great meeting up huh? We should meet up sometime, you know ,for drinks…and food too Take care alright.” I tried to manage a clean goodbye before I did any more damage.
“Yea, I guess I have to now, enjoy” Varun replied, slowly recovering from what he had heard. He started the car, we waved, and off he sped off.

As I walked into the building, I thought about how crazy the whole of 1st year had been, especially ragging period. Proposals, dancing, fundae, MR, my final years. I remembered what I had told my friends before entering the room before MR.
“Tonight is the end of our misery, tonight is our freedom night. This is that part of our lives, that never existed. None of us would ever want to remember what happens behind this door. Bleed we will, but if lucky, we won’t be deaf, when we enter hall 9 again. So all the best my friends, all the best for Hell.”

A smile escaped my lips. Yea, 1st year was crazy. I was crazy, to once think, that I would never want to see my seniors, ever again.
Just then, I received a sms. It was from Varun, and it was a smiley. :)

It's never over

2009-07-28T00:59:00.002+05:30

It's over.I think I’m done with this all. I don’t want to return to it ever again. Even if I want to, I can’t, so probably I won’t. It’s not an easy task. There are things in life that I would give and have perhaps given 100% to. Things, phases, moments that assure me positive returns. But then, why is it that I come back to some things, memories, tasks, later on, even when I’m fully aware that there is no assured gift involved. Why is it that what goes round, comes around?
They say, some relationships are no strings attached. But does such a bond (ironical isn’t it?) really exist?

Love, ex--> it’s over. But some special moments, emotions and feelings cannot be replaced, ever. Some believe they have lost it. What’s sad is, these feelings come back so many a time, perhaps with more strength, but we often refuse to accept them, often in the fear or being hurt, thereby hurting us and others.

First job--> Sucked BIG TIME, but nevertheless, the first break. While in the blues, we take motivation from how we survived then.

First fight-->got hurt, beaten, and fought back. Memory of the first slap always remains.

Sex--> Mostly it gets better, some times worse, but nothing like the first time. Often regarded as the perfect “no strings” relationship. Unfortunately, science says, emotions always exist, no matter how frozen one is (both emotionally and in bed).
Why is it that, we always return to something (consciously or unconsciously), we thought we had left for good. Question is, when is it, that we actually move on. How do we know it’s over, la fin!?

There is but of course one answer to this all, (perhaps another reason, in my friend’s words)

Everything will be ok in the end. If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.

And with that I “return” to another one of my complicated relationships, my blog, Bangalore Blues...

Seen on someone’s status message: Life is like a Negro’s left a*se. It ain’t fair, it ain’t right.

A revival of hope, love and life

2009-06-07T19:42:00.001+05:30

It’s amazing what the combination of wind, music and sunlight, in perfect proportions can do when you’re feeling the blues. I was feeling it; The Bangalore Blues. :P I was in a pathetic state. So pathetic that, the sun annoyed me. I hated the rain. I felt cold, isolated, and downright hopeless. I wanted to yell, wanted to fight, I wanted to freakkinnn shoot someone!! 1 week has gone by. What’s happened in this one week? Absolutely nothing at all. The situations are still the same. The past week has been nothing short of an emotional attyachaar. I wanted to smoke, drink, and run. I wanted to take it all out on my body. That way no one would get hurt. Heck even the gym was locked (some crazy theory by the society president). I didn’t know what to do. I blogged, I wanted my friends. I longed for those meetings I had attended way back in 3rd year, on those moonlit nights, on top of the hall 1 mess. (Tippu named us the Priory of Sion!! I thought it was more like the hopeless army of the hopeless Sultan!!). To think, I used to walk all the way from hall 4, to discuss, brainstorm, and find solutions to the problem at hand. We never found the perfect solution. But I do cherish those terrace talks and those midnight walks. I missed you guys then. I wanted to talk to someone. My BIG roomie, came forward, tried. I appreciate him for that. But there are some things that you only feel like telling your best friends. Man I was hopeless…

Then, Alok called (A godsend). We spoke and spoke. I don’t know for how long. But every minute was worth it. It was exactly what I wanted. Not a bucket load of advice on my life or my love life, but…heck, I don’t even remember what we spoke. But that did the trick. It set the wheels in motion, although I was unaware then. Thanks a lot dude!

I now sit, on my terrace, listening to Coldplay-the scientist, as the wind blows in my face. It’s so powerful and good that I don’t wish to run away anymore. I stand on the parapet and face the wind. The blues are blow away into the blue sky. There is something refreshing about the air today. That’s when I realize how silly I was. I see the light. A revival, of hope, love & life. I’m doing great. I feel great. Everything seems so right. Heck, I even feel India will win the T20 World Cup again!! Nothing can go wrong, nothing should, and nothing would. I look up from my laptop. The sun is shining and then I realize, I love my sunshine. ;)

P.S: A special thanks for all you wonderful people who still read my blogs, no matter how annoying, confusing or silly they are. Thanks for personally coming up to me and telling me what you liked and what you thought. Thanks a lot!

Have fun!

Life aint a love story

2009-05-31T00:32:00.001+05:30

STATUTORY WARNING: Contains profanity and ethical hedonism

It’s like those days, when u feel something pathetic is in the air. It’s like those days, when u feel nothing is working out the way you want. You’re addicted to it, its consuming you even though you’re breathing the air in. Consciously, you know you’re killing yourself softly, but its way out of your control. It’s your brand of heroin, yours and yours only.

Some fight over, what to call it by. Some ponder over its necessity in one's life. There's no consensus though. Lives have been lost over it. I will lose mine, you will lose yours too. There are those, who go through it so many a time, always ending up beaten, lost and hurt.

Aware of it all, why is it that we still crave for it, deep inside (if not openly), in the darkest places of our heart, for that 1 drop of, poison, drug, passion, madness?

There are times, when the human mind is certain, about what it wants and what’s good for it. I say at times, because more often than not, the decisions we make, regardless of right or wrong, are made on a sub conscious level. I think a lot, too much actually. I didn’t think twice this time, I knew what I wanted, and I fought for it. There were signs all around me. Signs which worked against me. Paulo Coelho, you were wrong. The world wasn’t helping me to attain what I wanted. At every step, every move of mine, I was thrashed down. My strengths amazed me, such madness, such will power, I kept moving forward. These are times when u need your friends the most. Fuck, they couldn’t reach me. Some who could, said it’s a lost battle, said I’ll be burned down. Hell, they didn’t know shit! Fuck them!!

to be contd...

Judgments would be made, over the words written above. Mis-interpretations galore... I open up the space to hear everyone out... for it is you to whom I look up for guidance... For I have to keep my head steady, before I’m consumed in this labyrinth to eternal bliss...

P.S: Telling any of your friend to fuck off is uncool...l am sorry.

The IT life

2009-05-12T18:54:00.001+05:30

This one’s for you Adi!..
(And let me thank tippu before he accuses me of plagiarism)
And as for the title, no this isn't inspired by neel's blog.

Ever peeped into the inbox of s/w engineer? If you haven’t, then picture this.
3 kinds of mails

1. Work related mails
2. Forwards on how dumb managers, HR officials and domain heads are. Believe me
Crazy theories with explicit graffiti.
3. Forwards on why the life of a s/w engg. Sucks BIG time!!

The last one is the winner here. Maximum no. of mails are on our (boring) lives. Each one more depressing than the other. Read all the mails at once, then suicide would appear as bed of roses. These mails are pathetic, they make you feel pathetic, especially coz you’re the one they are talking about. I know most of you guys disagree. You would probably croon like SRK “life is rockin n reelin..” But on reading the mail a poor s/w engg. feels he/she has no aim in life, no friends in life, rather no life at all!!! Here is an extract of what I received today morning…It’s what a s/w engineer feels while sitting at office.

….I could see a small girl trying to hold on to her umbrella which the wind was snatching away from her. I felt sorry for the girl, and was happy that I was not in a similar pathetic situation. Yes. I take pride for the fact that I am a software engineer….

….I have everything which a common man would envy; money, status, respect, you name it I have it. But then, am I really happy?.......

…..I have a big house here, but then it is just a house, not a home.. My parents are pretty far away from me now. I have a cell phone to talk to them everyday, but then I really miss those dinners which I had with my family everyday. I could easily afford to taste all the different cuisines these days, but the best of food there, lack the love and affection which is present in the food prepared by my mother…..

…..It's true that I have a lot of things now. I have a nice bed, but no time to sleep. Lots of money, but no friends to spend it with. The latest designer clothes, but a worn out body . Awards for technical excellence, but no reward for the crave for peaceful ambience…..

…..I have decided to come out of this false fantasy, even if it is at the expense of losing the tap of the software engineer. I am going to again enjoy my life. I am going to go out in the rain and play with the small kid now. I removed my tie, and went near my computer to shut it down……

What the hell right?!?! The dude feels he has made the biggest mistake of his life by joining the S/W industry and so has decided to go and play in the rain!!! Are u kidding me!?!??!

The whole thing is a myth…

#1----> Dude, the reason you’re not getting drenched is because ur inside the building, not because you are a s/w engineer. In fact, anybody, inside any building, wouldn’t get drenched. And man, are you a sadist or what, taking pleasure in seeing a small girl get drenched.

#2---->you don’t have everything that a common man would envy,

Money... not enough of it ever! Considering your expenses in the big city. (Folks in the core sector are the lucky ones here). Taking recession into account, you’re just about lucky if you have a job.

Status..... Yea rite!! There are about a thousand replicas of you in your company itself. Nothing to be proud of. Heck some matrimonial ads even have a strict s/w engineers please excuse criteria.

Respect.... Ok, from whom exactly are you getting this from!?

#3---->you claim to have a lot of money, why don’t you ask your folks to stay along with you? As for tasty food, cook once and soon everything/anything else in the world would taste amazing.

#4--->I agree on this one. In fact most hardworking s/w nerds sleep alone. Yea you could crib about that. But that’s your fault. There isn’t any dearth of the fairer sex in s/w industry. Worn out body?!?! Hello?? Heard of a 3 lettered word called GYM!?!?

It’s a very simple life folks; I’m not saying it’s great or bad. But it’s work. And work is well.., work. That’s all there is to it. What do I have for the author of the above mail...? The same what Monica says to Rachel in F.R.I.E.N.D.S… “Welcome to the Real world, it sucks!”

And yea i wrote this blog while sitting in my office. i work a software company... :P

Seen on someone’s status message: “If he says he loves his work, then he hasn’t worked a single day in his life”

PS: The story ends with the engineer returning back to his computer to fix some lines of code… So much for playing in the rain right?!?

Me in Muscat!!

2009-04-14T20:19:00.001+05:30

I’m in Muscat. Yes, after nearly 9 months, I have finally returned home, to meet my wonderful family. Feels great to be back home. It’s like a well deserved break. Though technically, I wasn’t doing much work in Bangalore, but nevertheless, it’s a well deserved break. It feels amazing to be back here. Muscat is as hot as ever, though it rains nowadays. New malls, new hangouts, new rumors. Muscat and the people here haven’t changed one bit.

I always thought that once I start earning, most things would change. As in Dad, would consider my suggestions and advice in matters of the family. I thought that perhaps Mom would let me spend for the family. I’d thought that my sister wouldn’t fight or talk back to me, now that she knows, I’m the second earning member in the house. But as the saying goes ‘who cares what Sangeet thinks?’. Dad still thinks I’m immature, irresponsible and lazy. Mom thinks, that I think too high about my salary(I really can’t blame her for that). As for my lil sis, she still punches me, irritates me, but doesn’t talk back anymore. She only yells.
Things don’t change I guess, once one start earning. They just add up to your parent’s concern as in

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to do with your money?”
“yea I do”
“What??”
“Higher studies, savings, investments..you know..”
“Stop throwing some random words here and there, do u have a plan?”
“Not now, but I assure you I will.”
“You’re still the same. Waiting till the last minute to do things... You’re still irresponsible. Would you ever change?”
“….deafening silence…”

The climate’s gone for a toss, markets are crashing, people are losing money, but my family hasn’t changed one bit. I thank god for it. Thanks for keeping them safe. I also thank all my well wishers for praying for me in whatever way. I pray for them and their families, and I hope god keeps all of them safe and happy.
I hope you guys never change…
Cheerios…

P.S: Well, except for you fatties. You guys gotta do something about weight loss, and soon. Trust me its way far from easy…

The great indian hook up..

2009-04-07T01:03:00.001+05:30

Few days ago, I met this guy from college. The last time I saw him, he was wailing like a baby.(It was the last day in college, but wailing.. really??) The conversation went something like this..

Friend: Hey!!! bro..Hi man, long time no see..
Me: Hey friend, am good re. How about u? yea, quite a long time…

Friend: So where are you working?
Me: ‘silly s/w company’.

Friend: I heard you’re committed.
Me: No man..

Friend: Don’t hide the secret from me .I know you’re committed. It’s the talk of the town. Everyone knows about it.
Me: Cool, glad you guys do.

Friend: So tell me, where is she from?
Me: Planet earth..talk about something else dude….

Friend: I know she is from around here. U are committed. Now you will forget all your friends. You will forget me too.
Me: (to myself) I never remembered you were here in the first place.

Why is my relationship status is the first few questions people ask me. No one asked me back in college. There are folks who call all the way from U.S. just to know, whose going out with whom, and whose cheating whom. I mean, wow, gossip does connect people. All you need is a rumor about you going out with somebody, just about anybody. And before u know it, you would be answering calls from god knows where, justifying the one sighting some jobless fellow made of you shaking hands with a girl in a mall. You’re suddenly , what everyone’s talking about. It’s fun initially, but then it gets boring, and silly.

Step 2. Thanks to all this hype, you start joking about it with the girl. She laughs it off. You think, could it be..?

3. You plan your first date, but things backfire at the last minute, due to some urgency that had to come up at that very time.

4. Two days later you check orkut. Every college community, is speaking about the 101 dates you and your female acquaintance has been on.

5. The female sees these posts.( Apparently your friends have spread your fame far
and wide that they have reached her friends, who apparently like your friends begin pulling her legs too.)

She approaches you to talk about it. She talks, you listen. She talks, you talk. You talk, she listens. She wants you to talk more. And before you know it, you’re talking with her on the phone. You’re going out with her, enjoying yourself.

Maybe friends aren’t that bad after all… :)

Seen on a temple in south India: It is forbidden to enter a woman, with or without slippers.

Cheerios..

The Hello World Blog

2009-04-05T10:08:00.002+05:30

Hello World

Agreed that it’s been ages since I blogged. I tried to though, every single day. But I couldn’t get something solid whatsoever. For those who missed out two of my blogs in between, well, read them if it’s the last good thing you want to do today. For newcomers, I am popularly known as RJ, Mallu Gunda, Rj Madhan, Manmadhan, and occasionally called Sangeet. Everyone has a story. Mine’s mapped out like
Govt. hospital, kerala--->Indian School Muscat---> NIT Durgapur--->Reliance Energy--->Wipro Technologies---->???

Where next? Probably, rather hopefully, the best b-school in the world. What am I doing here? Doing what I actually got a degree in...bakar kaat-ing/bhaant maar-ing. Not the next J.K. Rowling, or Chetan Bhagat, but yea, the first Sangeet Somakumar.

This, I hope isn’t another one of my experimental blogs, which would soon rest in peace after a few posts. And while you’re pulling out the last remaining strands of black hair on your head, you could divert all that energy ‘C n C’. Most importantly, I solemnly pledge to reduce the length of my posts, so as not to steal customers from sleeping pills manufacturers in the city. Speaking of which, I myself haven’t been getting enough sleep lately. ‘Sleepless in Bangalore, could make a film with that name...Bangalore, quite aptly, called the city of babes n booze, of which only the latter seems to be attainable to (innocent, spectacled, java speaking individual who saves up his 30k salary for nothing) me. Been working in this silly company for the past 8 months now and still haven’t understood why they call all this silly coding and copy paste methods as work. But who cares, as long as I’m getting paid. In short, my life is like many others, boring, monotonous...sometimes a b*tch. But I love it. And you should love yours too. Live it, Love it.

Cheerios...

P.S: btw ‘CnC’ stands for Comments n Criticism. Now is when you add them!