tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43184559105953493662024-03-04T21:41:45.219-08:00abhivyaktiShrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-47933138695001716842015-12-23T12:41:00.001-08:002015-12-23T12:41:20.304-08:00Grumbled garbled gobbledegook <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It has been a long time since I have had a chat with myself. I keep thinking about using this space to write about things that matter to me. Things that make me happy. things that make me mad. Things that keep me up and bright and things that suck the life out of me and leave me disappointed and limp.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Sometimes I am so defeated that in spite of my anger and outrage at something I do not feel up to carrying on a conversation about it. Those are the times I think about this outlet and this one way street where I can pour my heart out and let it rest. So here is my attempt at starting out with a cleaner slate for the next year and leave all the grudges behind. If only these things were sporadic enough to be shrugged off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">When NPR calls the <span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">San Bernardino shooting terrorism but every other shooting (North Carolina, Charleston, Planned Parenthood and what have you) anything but. Because the color of your skin and religion is more fearful than your actions. I was mad and felt betrayed, because I felt that NPR was this one beacon, this one voice of reason and rationale in this hyper </span>polarized<span style="font-weight: lighter;"> and highly </span>divided<span style="font-weight: lighter;"> world. This time I felt angry and let down.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">When India celebrates the spirit of Chennai and people without standing up to lapses in judgement and making sure that if this situation arises we would be better prepared and the so called spirit will not be tested as throughly as it was this time.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">When hindus in India who form the majority feel </span>marginalized<span style="font-weight: lighter;"> and want me to understand the reason behind why a lynch mob feels righteous about killing another human being. As to how people who have been </span>suppressed<span style="font-weight: lighter;"> for so long have finally found a voice. I no longer know what people we are talking about. I hope that they do not form the majority. But then why do the fringe elements get so much attention and voice that they are able to mobilize these many into such actions.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">When Salman Khan gets a clean chit by the courts and I see people celebrating that decision. Calling him a wise man and applauding him for BEING HUMAN. Why was he not subjected to the same fate as Shiney Ahuja? Why was he not wiped clean from our collective </span>conscience? <span style="font-weight: lighter;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">Not worthy of being on a prime time slot pontificating.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">When Trump is the leading GOP candidate...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">When Carson is top three leading candidates and is a man of science supposedly...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">When in the face of overwhelming numbers and data, a society fails to take action towards better gun control. But uses that as an excuse to limit the number of refugees it can accept.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">When a developed leading world leader refuses to value child bearing and maternity leave even in the face of declining growth percentages. To not facilitate some kind of paid maternity leave on a federal level.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">When we collectively refuse to look at a given evidence and hold on to our </span>preconceived<span style="font-weight: lighter;"> notions and prejudices. When thinking and rational beings refuse to use their grey matter then what can be expected from vitriolic rhetoric.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #212121;"><span style="font-weight: lighter;">This is pretty much a laundry list of things that continued to bug me into writing a very disjointed and disgruntled post about it. This by no means exhaustive and complete.</span></span></span></div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-87249149765551625692014-09-25T07:53:00.001-07:002014-09-25T07:53:45.529-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSVh_TzwGX4nSF_2WUwzT7GxSAmZfcnddqmWek2rnw2_TC6XyBUEdk9AKHWA3O7QIcz90Qn_cWVxgbW8MePIKLziDAs2gJCjvcZgW7dI_uUqlfbQ6lNeXOfx4FghLIKmDjqeXVakd-qEU/s1600/food+prep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSVh_TzwGX4nSF_2WUwzT7GxSAmZfcnddqmWek2rnw2_TC6XyBUEdk9AKHWA3O7QIcz90Qn_cWVxgbW8MePIKLziDAs2gJCjvcZgW7dI_uUqlfbQ6lNeXOfx4FghLIKmDjqeXVakd-qEU/s1600/food+prep.jpg" height="273" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-73237776273727981902014-07-31T04:35:00.001-07:002014-07-31T04:35:12.002-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPucSimkvo5pM6sCKTWN0okUr7ff4xLEhNzOyDjrLOyXzSekHqBqX0hkIFnih-d2tu3KReG-Uka8cyPmG8OrD9UhNDvah4j39aL2Pm3SPcXOApDLat9gcQ0PL42Rf2kZqdZNwDE7r9js/s1600/Slide1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPucSimkvo5pM6sCKTWN0okUr7ff4xLEhNzOyDjrLOyXzSekHqBqX0hkIFnih-d2tu3KReG-Uka8cyPmG8OrD9UhNDvah4j39aL2Pm3SPcXOApDLat9gcQ0PL42Rf2kZqdZNwDE7r9js/s1600/Slide1.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDGtD2m9S1vwZsUMJxvGN8LcTXr1TOU-mPYDcZc1Ln8zJ5aCFH2hIW521bdgEm9Sx9rTyoREN4qtCFPgIwnw8vJRYJ2vXNPEcxOJ3t5e_HTtzFeQhko5jWioOc8w-E2ufjxJFUkvgV_M/s1600/Slide2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDGtD2m9S1vwZsUMJxvGN8LcTXr1TOU-mPYDcZc1Ln8zJ5aCFH2hIW521bdgEm9Sx9rTyoREN4qtCFPgIwnw8vJRYJ2vXNPEcxOJ3t5e_HTtzFeQhko5jWioOc8w-E2ufjxJFUkvgV_M/s1600/Slide2.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLyak0dm9jeoTALoZGcUdgiAoaaRLrvOoe7sTzQQhwQMhCwvM33LLVj54t-uhk4N4kgTsi7FBJxiA6qiYDnhtPN2D_sme7jc_e7hcB5z1x9Qiqw5EjaxwJmy7e6aihl8swUJeiU5ZpRZg/s1600/Slide3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLyak0dm9jeoTALoZGcUdgiAoaaRLrvOoe7sTzQQhwQMhCwvM33LLVj54t-uhk4N4kgTsi7FBJxiA6qiYDnhtPN2D_sme7jc_e7hcB5z1x9Qiqw5EjaxwJmy7e6aihl8swUJeiU5ZpRZg/s1600/Slide3.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintmQivjj8Pnrc3RZz7YSgx25gzszHMFIEsaZS93SL2GV9eurNjTyzB1xBGpTbPhKOQjqNSbiA3oYIkWgJtRQwpEBEgpvQfHNO5DWjMmUpRaWLiyOr-XP4i5yWqAJed5Q1Uwu1LshUikI/s1600/Slide4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintmQivjj8Pnrc3RZz7YSgx25gzszHMFIEsaZS93SL2GV9eurNjTyzB1xBGpTbPhKOQjqNSbiA3oYIkWgJtRQwpEBEgpvQfHNO5DWjMmUpRaWLiyOr-XP4i5yWqAJed5Q1Uwu1LshUikI/s1600/Slide4.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_gZQUHEQgx2Y-7G5QYojZB7G6SL-vybNqozlnKVOjx5PgBlu3x9PoAZahuE5xD3zdnuAnj1-GCWMALiebh6xvHSfdm9DaIAUB3NRrA19IriPuJDQZDIuMvWpRKcabe0xua9xl_g1NAs/s1600/Slide5.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_gZQUHEQgx2Y-7G5QYojZB7G6SL-vybNqozlnKVOjx5PgBlu3x9PoAZahuE5xD3zdnuAnj1-GCWMALiebh6xvHSfdm9DaIAUB3NRrA19IriPuJDQZDIuMvWpRKcabe0xua9xl_g1NAs/s1600/Slide5.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTWVF-7OaPFEcHfj7hVewHbTjqK5JD7lDDpDb5uibFzr6WXYAZ4doJa7Y9u2N6ghqAkTSYpeos4EiOEchQ3plDdJfmIv3FDvrx8DJhrqZcAzTgQKEOPO5tmlSD-P_IKOdigSYxYjQGcM/s1600/Slide6.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTWVF-7OaPFEcHfj7hVewHbTjqK5JD7lDDpDb5uibFzr6WXYAZ4doJa7Y9u2N6ghqAkTSYpeos4EiOEchQ3plDdJfmIv3FDvrx8DJhrqZcAzTgQKEOPO5tmlSD-P_IKOdigSYxYjQGcM/s1600/Slide6.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-18598818709716529212014-02-28T13:49:00.000-08:002014-02-28T13:49:29.713-08:00Grief<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Grief .... its such an absorbing, all consuming and almost too selfish an emotion. It numbs you from the outside world and its context completely, absolutely almost as nothing else can. No wonder sometimes the best or the worst comes out of a person at the moment of their grief.<br />
<br />
At some point of time you have tolet it wash over you, overcome you before you can get hold of yourself. It is tough and it can be very demanding almost as demanding as a child. It takes up all of the avialable space just like any gas, expands and fills up all the nooks and cranies of your consciousness and else. Just as air you can almost not feel its presence.</div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-9552440810150214202014-02-28T13:48:00.003-08:002014-02-28T13:48:45.924-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I read somewhere that grief comes in waves. One that washes over you and then lets you be for a while soaking up the sun being dry and warm and feeling that the wet and cold feeling has passed until ... the next big wave and the cold wet splash. Wetting you through, chilling you all the very more to the bone. The goosebumps back on. The vulnerability, the shiver and the cold.<br />
<br />
Ofcourse you can walk away from the shore and you do want to but then you also do want to see the sea and sand castles and the beach and all that it means for you and meant for you or could have or should have meant for you.<br />
<br />
It may be something the only thing sometimes that makes you feel alive. The fact that you feel chilled and cold to the bone. The warmth that follows. The feeling that all is not a monotone, even if what you hear is not music atleast it is expression.<br />
<br />
It is also safe to be sitting by the shore. You are at the receiving end of it, inactive in the way that leaves you open to feeling, just pure feeling. Something that day to day life does not let you be. You are just busy navigating one thing and another. Thinking through the alleys and the turns and the puddles.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-77322257920654148982013-08-14T19:51:00.000-07:002013-09-05T19:45:18.809-07:00Looking for Dumbledore<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Is it possible to look for purpose? TO feel lost without it? TO expect great things from yourself even in the face of evidence to the contrary? Sometimes it becomes imperative to have that one person who believes in you so strongly that you begin to believe in yourself and can take on the world.<br />
Why are most people in this world only here to cut you to size? Whatever size that may be. Isn't it the most dreadful thing? How are you supposed to take a leap when all you are trying for is get a toe in to stand on?<br />
it is sad and unfortunate when we can not value nurture and help all the talent that we have around us. All this myth about survival of the fittest is always thrown in the face every time you bring up these things. But isnt it equally important for us as society to get ahead? Not just one fittest person at a time but as more than one each doing his or her thing and saving all that energy that we waste on being mean and cutting people to size on our own creative pursuits.<br />
<br />
I have been lucky to have mummy and papa then didi and didya then jeejaji and ashu and ishan and bhumi and last but not the least Mehr. Each and every one of them have given me wings. Have shown me the way held me when I have needed that, nurtured me. I am what i am because of all their love and all the wonderful people who have been a part of my life. I know there are so many people who do not have what I do. But I also know how easy it is for things to get better. As I said it is just unfortunate that we have to make do with how things are because we are all scared to be helpful and nice. We are insecure about other people reaching ahead of us, going far, going places in the fear that they are taking our rightful place.<br />
<br />
Just a little bit of love, a little bit of push in the right direction. Some one who cares. A mentor. Each one of us is a little harry potter looking for a Dumbledore in our lives. It only ends up being a life long quest for many.</div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-9903384715138444762013-07-12T21:31:00.001-07:002013-07-12T21:31:53.560-07:00Objective<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Objective is the lens piece which is close to the object under study. Objective is also the aim or point of living a life objective above all is also a very wrong and boring word to get or chose especially if you are trying to get out of writer's block and trying out free writing. it is an even worse choice if you are at a point in life where there seems to be a lack of it in real life. It is as if you do exist and carry on being employed and and do things to carry on being that but there is no passion and no interest and there is also a lack of dive to do what you are currently doing. what makes the situation even less palpable is that you do not know what else you want and if there is anything that can help you find what you are missing in life. or for that matter may be this is you life and you are not missing anything. this is all the passion and reason and satisfaction you will even have in your life. now that is one sure rock bottom if ever there was one.</div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-26326098257522435972013-04-23T07:57:00.001-07:002013-04-23T07:57:53.398-07:00Introduction ...Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This story begins when a collage starts. Collage being a time when there is relatively more freedom in life. Freedom starts with and is not limited to lack of uniformity of clothes and or of background. Different backgrounds and different schools of thoughts bring different people together to suddenly come together as equals under one roof and compete with each other to disprove or dispel the il</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">lusion of equality. It is one of</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> the funniest dichotomies of student life.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></span></span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This story starts with Kira, as she gets ready t</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">o hop on a bus to go to collage</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, the very first day. She is me. Or to be more truthful, she is who I wanted to be when I was her age. If you are not as confused as you should be then there is hope of not loosing you in the n</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">arrative. Anyway so she gets on to the bus she is one of the people who was on the</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> waiting list to the hostel accommodation</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. She had the least priority as her family lived with in the city limits as described by some administrative </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">buffoon</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> as he seemed fit. Drawing a random shape on the map without any logic to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the connectivity. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So thanks to that u</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">nknown face, Kira had to get up early and leave 3 hours before classes began. She still had all the misgivings about commuting six hours in a day and still go on like this without turning into a zombie. Sooner or later she had to get a room in the dorm. She was so bent on the woes of traveling that she had not considered what all a hostel life entailed</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. All the things that were going to come her way if or rath</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">er when she did get her 20 sq.Ft</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> of space that she would have to share with her room mate.</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Life she thought was best dealt with one day at a time. And sometimes even that seemed too big a deal.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Life had buzzed at such high a speed that she had not gotten any chance to enjoy or rejoice the feeling of getting admitted into the collage of her choice.</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Imperial collage </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">or the mad cage as it was lovingly rechristened as by its “inmates”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. She was soon going to discover how true to its name it was. And while she w</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">as at it she was going to realiz</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">e that how freedom was nothing but an over rated illusion.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> That is what or how it is more often than not.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Just at the beginning of orientation, the dean said that anyone who feels that they can not go without sleep and can not do without food and water and need at least 7 hours of sleep everyday, do not have place in this batch of 2001, feel free to leave the the class right now. Ya like that was a real choice! So much for the freedom that collage life is supposed to bring for you.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> All her life she had heard new and updated versions of the line “just get through this one exam</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and then you will be set </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">in life</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> How life and destiny will just smile on you blah blah blah…<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now finally it seemed to her that this was the proverbial carrot that her parents and her teachers held in front of her to lure her into the ratty race.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Now sitting in the big tiered class room being bombarded with information in the name of orientation, she felt that she was already way in too deep to see a way out. Right now she did not even want a way out. But it will not be like this all the time.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She was never a dumb child but she was not very big on perseverance. Things had come easy to her in school. But this was a different ball game altogether.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This story was not all about Kira, she did not know it yet but her path was going to be crossed with some of the most interesting people she was ever going to get an opportunity to get to know. The first of those was Kiran. Kiran was someone she instantly felt a kindred spirit with and seemed to instinctively share few of the slangs with! After the ominous warning by the dean as if on cue Kira and Kiran both exhaled all the air in their system with a very fearful and anxious “boy-oh-boy”! and with that pin drop of a silence, they both were instantly aware of each other's existence in the universe.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Kiran as it turned out had his own crosses to bear. Yes you got me right Kiran was a "he" and that was one </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">of the biggest and the heaviest </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">if not the only</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> one to bear.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> When he caught “Khosla ka Ghosla” years later he all too identified with the plight of chirounji lal. Life apparently could get worse, he was after all not called something as inane and depressing as that or for that matter Kunj Bihari, who was going to be his room mate. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Of course</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> he so far did not know that or for that matter any of the things that lay in his future.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">From here to long lines of the differ</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">en</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">t forms of plugging themselves in the system the first day pretty much kept them all p</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">re-o</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ccupied and busy and away from the prying eyes of the predatory senior batches. None of them had any idea how bad or insane can the familiarization process get. Starting from finding out which class is where? What out of those can be bunked? Where to hide your hide while u are bunking and where to get food at 4.00 am in the night or day as you choose to look at it.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Right in front of the ticketing line kira spotted a familiar face Vani. Someone she knew peripherally in school</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. About whom </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">she knew nothing more than the fact that if there was anything that happened around vani the first person to come to know had to be her mom.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Vani was just the kind of person Kira was convinced that she could not survive around. She seemed to be someone who had not yet cut her chord from her mother’s womb yet. In the times of </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">today that had to be just better off than being an axe murderer in hiding with bad breath to boot. Basically something that you would never in you life own up to in collage let alone flaunt; as she seemed to be doing in the full view of the entire batch!</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“yes mom, we are almost done with the registration and I-cards...</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Only the Library cards. Umm hmmmm and yes I know….</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Alright, I will call and let you know later. Talk to you later Ma. Bye.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This exchange to Kira and her code of life was nothing less than blasphemous. Kira rarely called home, when she was out and to reinstate her illusion of freedom she refused to carry a cell phone</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. According to her it was the way the grown ups pretended to give you mobility only so that they could trace your every move. Go through your contacts, read your messages and keep track of everything they have no business being a part of.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> She had however agreed to let herself be gifted one when and if she moved to the hostel, but before that it was just not negotiable. So for Kira it was a supreme effort to not snort and turn around in a huff in front of Vani. Vani as it seemed was completely unaware of this code of life and was equally obtuse to Kira’s intent to ignore and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">not acknowledge her and their prior association. Luck after all was not on Kira’s side as Vani, spotted her right then and gave her a cheery “hey”!</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This was going to be a long day after all. She and Kiran were already making plans to go out after this long list of to dos ran out. Now she had this woman who seemed to pretend that they grew up together. Actually it was not such a bad thing to cross paths with her. But why did she have to give telephonic updates at all times to her mother. Anyway now was probably not a time to pose the question and may be not everyone was as tuned to such forms of parental control as her and had barely heard them.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Before she realized what was happening she was a party to their plan to go catch a movie or a bite after this harrowing day was over.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-23600930757438618422013-04-18T08:38:00.001-07:002013-04-28T17:39:30.905-07:00Sisters<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I think of <span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc;">sister</span> there is this movie that i think about „my brother nikhil“ I think it is a very realistic take on a brother-<span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc;">sister</span> bond and the movie explores the relationship beautifully . I think I thought of this mostly because I have always felt that the relationship between a brother and a <span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc;">sister</span> can never be as close as it is between two <span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc;">sisters</span>. Of course that’s not necessarily true but I guess I am yet to see it in first person to be completely convinced of it. I can not imagine that the way I turn to my <span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc;">sisters</span> at absolutely random moments in life that a brother would too.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Calling them at some ungodly hour in the night to ask about a song that I can not completely remember but can really not leave alone either; like a speck of food stuck in your gums! Calling them for just a regular rant about life, about work about love life, husband and yes the most favourite topic lately our mom-in-laws. There is something liberating about having <span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc;">sisters</span>, you do not need to be anyone that you are not, you can be as bad as you want and almost get away with it. The place where this relationship scores over a lot of parent kid relationship is that, they are not as responsible for you as parents hence you can tell them more worrisome things and feel less guilty about the whole thing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also they will be the first ones to tell you what is good bad or ugly about you. Weather you like it or not. Infact weather you want it to not, the opinion is going to be shared with you pat... like that. Needless to say anyone can do with that kind of brutally honest feedback. Infact often when I see people dressed up inappropriately or garishly or doing something completely stupid, I wonder if they have any <span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc;">sisters</span> who will promptly and tactlessly show them the mirror.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;">And that shall I say lack of consideration and tact and love and warmth and all overbearing things possible all rolled into one is how I feel when I think of the word </span><span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc; color: #222222;">sisters</span><span style="color: #222222;">! And brothers although loving and all, somehow loose it in the consideration and tact department. What I mean to say is somehow they are not able to be as crisp as </span><span class="il" style="background-color: #ffffcc; color: #222222;">sisters</span><span style="color: #222222;">. But then I am not completely qualified to make this statement this is just a strong suspicion at best on my part.</span></span></div>
</div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-73041483534682900792013-03-25T12:28:00.001-07:002013-03-25T12:28:50.657-07:00Life-a full circle...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Everyone</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> has a story to tell and every story starts with the time they become an entity different from </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">t</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">hat of their mother. Weather that is through the tunnel and vagina or escape through an incision. For that matter few stories begi</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">n even before that like</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> mine. May be more stories have their </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">beginnings</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> earlier than the people real</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ze. I got to know </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">this </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">when I was 17 years old. In</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">a freaky comment that I overheard my mother make to our hosts of that evening. Without remorse or malice, she was talking about woes</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and trials of the time</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> around</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> a pregnancy and</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> how difficult the who</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">l</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">e decision is. She very matter of factly told the lady that when I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">was conceived she was afraid of what had happened. She wanted to get rid of me cos I was not part of the plan. She already had two daughters and did not or was not looking for another child. I don’t know what </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">what </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the context of the conversation was and what was exchanged after this statement. I was more or less stunned to hear it , it hit me like a ton of bricks, and in my melodramatic and thespian tendencies honed by all the emotional upheaval of </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">adolescence</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> it was not less than any calamity, it was like my parents had suddenly disowned me or rather refused to own me. The ground was snatched below my feet, to paraphrase a Hindi idiom.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In time I got over it,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> I realized how my mom and my dad absolutely adored me and weather the news of me was received well or not I certainly was! Mind you this wisdom dawned on me a good few years later. Till then it was a cross that I bore on my head or chest whichever is more painful.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyway so the point that I was trying to make was that some stories start earlier</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, and everything that happens in one life comes on to be a part of the person. </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Every story is intertwined with another and there is no beginning and really no end. Its all a matter of perspective and the window of our observation. Everything out of context is only a reflection of our turmoils and emotions hidden with in. What you see and what you hear may not be the absolute truth. Trust your instincts more as they do not always depend on what can be seen and heard.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
</div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-42339320279799019642012-03-14T12:55:00.002-07:002012-03-28T09:38:11.671-07:00My daddy strongest!<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt">Well not necessarily and in most cases not at all, but talk to any daughter and her father </span><span style="font-size: 10pt; ">dad, papa, appa, baba, holds a special place in her heart. It is one of the most wonderful things in life, this father daughter bond. I love my father; there is no other word for it.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 10pt; ">Things have changed a great deal in all the years that we have shared together. I am going to be 30soon and in all of those three decades, life has been full. Full of love, laughter, tears, anger, d</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 10pt; ">esires, dreams, disappointments, achievements, disillusionments, affirmations.... basically "</span><span >FULL" pretty much covers it brimming wouldn't be an over statement either.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt">Of my earliest memories, my father was a saviour of kinds, my knight in shining armour, someone who could make things right, make it happen, someone who was big and warm to cuddle up in a cold night. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt">And his hands could envelop my entire fist keeping it safe from anything and everything. That was my safe haven. In fact it was that for a very long time; much longer than for a lot of my friends.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt">I remember feeling safe being able to sleep when there was an imaginary monster behind the curtain or a very scary test or a difficult exam the next day or just about any anxiety that I could understand and also the ones that I couldn’t understand. His hand could smooth away anything that could remotely affect me worry me or harm me. It did not matter that he was not directly involved in any of those issues but the very fact that he was there and I was with him made it all seem not too bad and nothing that wasn’t work “outable”.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt">Even during my teens I fought more with my mother, all the rebellion was mostly aimed at her and not so much at him. He always got the best of me and I think vice versa as well. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt">Our moment of truth happened much later much much later when I was in my twenties; early twenties, when I moved out into the big bad world. For some reason that I do not remember, I felt alone and scared and overwhelmed with things around me. That was also the time when I was taking some of the most important decisions career wise. I could not see him or find him at the same page as me. It disconcerted me. For the first time I felt that we had to actively communicate, in order to be understood. He didn’t seem perfect. The chinks in the shiny armour were getting prominent. My eyes were waking up to a new knight- who was no longer someone who could make the world go around for me. My knight had very limited powers. My world had expanded beyond his influence. I had left the nest. I had flown and his cover was no longer effective and the safety net was no longer relevant at those heights. I found him wanting I found him limited in his knowledge, his resources, his solutions. He could no longer guide my battles. He was still there but not the way I used to see him. My daddy was human after all. It was a very tough thing to wake up to. I remember writing to him about how I didn’t love him the way I used to. How I had these unresolved feelings in my self that I just didn’t know how to deal with. And I also remember reading what he wrote back. He wrote back as to how I would get over this phase as well. How it was all about growing up and how it was basically about a change in perspective after all. When I was small he seemed big huge even and someone who had an answer or a solution for everything. But as I grew up things started looking different from where I stood. He didn’t seem as tall and big. My questions were getting more and more specific about the world my world was expanding and growing at an alarming speed too; the definitions of it; the boundaries of which were changing day to day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt">I remember feeling relieved, that was one of the most liberating things that I think I learned about life then. Love was something that is usually not deserved. Love is something that is given inspite of not because of what you or someone is. My father did not have to be perfect for me to love him. He just needed to be my papa as he was with his own set of quirks and eccentricities and love and limitations and everything. He didn’t have to be perfect to be the best. And so does everything else in life. Since then I have had my share of disagreements about what he does, or believes in, or says but my love for him through it has been strong and unwavering and I think I can say the same for him too.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt">This freed me to love people and accept them as they were. I no longer had to get them to be another kind. In fact I did not even need to like them a lot all the time. It was perfectly normal and acceptable to dislike them at times and still love them. I think that is why love is such a freeing emotion. It is not dependent on the actions or the worth or the qualities of the loved but of that of the one who loves. Now I know as what I am today, that my dad is not perfect he has his imperfections which are lesser than most mere mortals but not completely absent but he is and will always be the best dad ever.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size:10.0pt"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-7775591894130288062012-03-14T07:59:00.001-07:002012-03-14T08:01:17.136-07:00Crying<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Why do we do it?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Why do we succumb to it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Why is it such a good release?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is that also escapism?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is that damage control?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is it contrived?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is it real?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is it easy?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is it easier?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is it defeating?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is it confusing?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Is it frustrating? Especially to see someone else do it?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-46146557348905324212011-03-23T12:23:00.000-07:002013-06-06T10:41:32.323-07:00History and Statistics<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In my life there is no subject that has given me more grief than these two subjects. And I don't mean the sleepless nights mugging up before an exam. I mean real day to day life in which you bump into people who justify all their pre-conceived notions and prejudices in the cloak of quoting statistical figures about things in the past. Weather it is about a match between IND vs AUS or it is about making sweeping generalisations about minorities such as African americans, and American Indians and for that matter indians. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And I wonder when are you going to meet or interact with any given population as a population. Don't you always interact with people one at a time or two or at the most a few who even if the stats are correct are nothing but a fraction of the said population and can spread over anywhere in the given Gaussian distribution of most things. How does a particular statistic equip me better in my encounter with a person of any origin? Aren't these historical statistics nothing but an excuse to justify our prejudices or lack of really usable information and unwillingness to admit to it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Nothing infuriates me as much as sweeping typifying of diversity and quirks and everything that makes life charming and worth living and not just reading about! </div>
</div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-1576424412458646362011-02-11T14:22:00.000-08:002011-02-11T14:49:34.985-08:00Spitting Image<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRKGBKlnlmwhdCPLKmSyVPSGhMa57diNQozAhVz0i-I9QQSQdDIUw"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRKGBKlnlmwhdCPLKmSyVPSGhMa57diNQozAhVz0i-I9QQSQdDIUw" border="0" alt="" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Technically the word means a perfect double or counterpart but visually this word reminds me of <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">India</st1:place></st1:country-region>, the roads, the transport, the public places. It reminds me of all spit stained walls and corners and all the things that we litter our immediate environment with. It reminds me of the male of the human species using the whole wide world as a giant urinal! The stench that all but suffocates you as you somehow navigate your way through such dinghy corners, pretty much in the middle of the busiest of streets. It reminds me of dhaula kuan- the shady and busy dhaula kuan. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">It reminds of the place which is hotbed of eve teasing and worse, In spite of it being such a busy place in the world; in the capital city of the second most populous country in the world. It is a glaring reminder of the apathy that we the living have towards more of our very own kind. A woman (may be even men) can not feel any safety in numbers cos there is no guarantee about anyone else seeing you as one of them, worthy of notice, of consideration, of help….<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Its almost as if you do not exist. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Especially if you happen to be in trouble or seem like someone who might need help. And here I am not talking about someone coming brandishing a sword riding a black horse in a shining armour. It is only about being aware of your surroundings, being vocal, being there.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">It is simply as simple as that. It does not take a lot. At all.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Why is it that all we do care about it the next bus to hop on and the next seat that we can get and the next place to go to. Why do we not enjoy or experience and just exist in the present. That’s a common psyche… why why why??<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">This level of apathy I think also stems from this rat race, this feeling of always being behind and catching up to the future. The future will always be in future the moment you catch up with it it becomes your present. So what you are not doing is essentially your present so why run away from it?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Why not soak in it, experience it? Why not be here in the present? Instead of running ahead at such a pace that you miss the view. No matter how dismal, dirty or filthy it is.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">Cos only when we stop to notice, will it ever matter to us to keep it clean or to be enraged or outraged about things and injustices around us?! Weather being done to fellow humans or environment or sentiments….<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">May be just may be it will make the present worth being in, almost as attractive as the future that is always eluding- by the very virtue of its being what it is.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-24293579115479170102011-01-13T13:55:00.000-08:002011-01-13T14:12:34.301-08:00INternetI love the internet. This is the place where I meet all the people I will not otherwise. This is my window where I chat with my girls, gossip.... share... crib... catch up... bitch.. anything and everything that I did in person when I was younger and then on phone and now through the internet as the distances have grown.<div>This is what I go to when I have to look up anything and my dad is no longer in a position to answer all my question due to differences of time and space!! This is where I look up when I have to look up recipes, baking times, translations, rituals just about anything. It in one word is my back up and is my back up for all the people that I can no longer surround myself with in reality.</div><div>With it I create my virtual world where I talk to and read from and write to all the people with as much detail that I want. </div><div>It is also a window from where I surreptitiously observe all those I kind of know and check out just like I would have had we lived in a same neighborhood. </div><div><br /></div><div>I wonder if it is something that helps me open up more or something that keeps me from opening up to newer things in life. Since I have my comfort zone and the press of a button, I no longer see people and much less talk to the ones who are right next to me in the room. I am so busy typing away my grievances to a friend in london that I dont notice that there might be a potential friend right behind me if I just turn my chair and tap on another desk.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the same room we are in conversation with people all over the world but with each other. So does it bring people together or keeps them insulated in a world that they are more comfortable with?</div>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-44536325323752467962011-01-05T19:11:00.000-08:002011-01-05T19:19:56.925-08:00New Year New ThoughtsWhy is loss more meaningful or poetic than otherwise? Its a new year and it should come with new hopeful possibilities. Why? New year is just another number on the calendar, just another day. Why is there so much of hoopla around it? Why inspite of your better judgement you get carried away in its promise of renewed possibilities and potential that never really does come through?<div><br /></div><div>Its just another day when you lost or gained. Just another hour. Just like any other regular day.</div><div>I wish there was less glamour and enthusiasm attached to it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Its safe to be pessimistic. Is safety over rated? Is pessimism underrated? Does it not over lap with reality? Isnt reality more depressing than pessimism because of its huge overlap with the latter?</div><div><br /></div><div>Why Do we need to move on? why can;t we just call it a day and put up our boots. Whats the point of moving on when you dont know where you are going? and more importantly why you want to go there...</div><div>Movement is just another distraction from what you need to figure out. Just another way from keeping yourself from thinking. Being busy is the perfect form of escaping from everything around you.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-57134332418162313482010-10-18T12:23:00.000-07:002010-10-18T12:29:28.404-07:00Change<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQVqzjreALj72t2VEGBAHZdUhFNpWruw0TVlE3lAxxjnqc7_Uo&t=1&usg=__52c7QbGQr8R3uFGxYtjanYfXKpw="><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQVqzjreALj72t2VEGBAHZdUhFNpWruw0TVlE3lAxxjnqc7_Uo&t=1&usg=__52c7QbGQr8R3uFGxYtjanYfXKpw=" border="0" alt="" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey Mr. do you have some change? You see my car just broke down and I would like to call for a towing service only my mobile is out of battery and …. You know it’s kind of late.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I know what it must seem like to you and believe me this is a huge change for me coming to this new place and looking for a place all by myself. I am not one of the junkies who are forever walking the streets with one sob story or another. I really am in a fix and even though you may think that I am just one of them I am not; at least no longer…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">All of that was whizzing past her head as she grappled with my current situation. Just when she had thought that she had enough of this begging or asking for “help” on the streets. It was like she was being sucked into it for no fault of hers. The thing was that if she didn’t get off that road in the next 5 minutes, all that she had worked for these past few months was going to go down the drain. All the meticulous planning…. All those sleepless nights…. All the sweat and hours and savings that she finally had the courage to put at stake was literally going to wash out in front of her very eyes and the last thing she wanted to do was to stand there wool gathering indulging in a fit of self pity at the most inconvenient of times if there was any.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Gathering her remaining wits, she decided to stick to the truth and ask for help, this was not about the next dinner. This was after all about the rest of her life. If she did not make a dash for it now, she would never be able to break free of her life here and seek other pastures green or not but at the very least different.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">She peeked into the car with a lone fatherly-looking-fellow and asked for a ride to the next town. She cooked up some cock and bull story about being left behind on some field trip and not having enough money to take the tube.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The man seemed receptive enough, didn’t seem to mind and seemed to understand her plight and was willing to help. In fact he went on to say how he had been tired to driving alone and wouldn’t mind some company on the way.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After the initial chit chat and pleasantries, they fell into a comfortable silence. The guy bought some bags of chips on the next gas station and was nice enough to get some cola for her too.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">She had had a very long day and now that she was finally going to be free of a life of drudgery and she was finally going to earn her living… this new found sense of freedom was exhilarating but in spite of all the excitement of the past hour, she felt her eyes closing… </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“May be if I sit up straight and put on my shades, the guy wouldn’t even notice that I have taken a nap. After all it’s not nice to be sleeping next to the driver; was her last conscious thought, before she lost the fight to keep herself up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">When she got up the first conscious thought in her head was that she felt sore, like she had done a lot of work and the muscles were aching, the thigh and arms and she also felt a dull thud of an ache in her abdomen… thinking she must be due any day now, she got out of bed. Only then did she realize that this room was not her bed room and she barely had any clothes on. She looked frantically around her feeling confused and trying to piece together what had happened, she recollected the car ride and the coke and noticed a few bills on the dresser. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Things after all had changed a lot in the course of the night” she thought; and then she heard the unmistakable click of the door lock…</p>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-17140795317864420032010-09-23T08:53:00.000-07:002010-09-23T08:57:40.445-07:00Passage<p class="MsoNormal">The cells have already undergone their 21<sup>st</sup> passage, which means that they have been sub-cultured 21 times, and they are no longer what they were in their first passage or for that matter in their 5<sup>th</sup> passage, they have evolved into something different, the environment around them has influenced them to be what they are now. For one thing it makes them unfit for my set of experiments as for comparing them I need to have them at the same passage.</p><img src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQNBg9U_klFE1GIkqsjCJgx0eAWd7lgfZJIqBfAbVFlJZauh30&t=1&usg=__Ob7c-baLNKlgPcBL8Tx7Ot0qQdA=" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 266px;" border="0" alt="" /> I wonder why it took science to understand and prove and accept this so very obvious a thing. You see looking at this whole thing not biochemically but philosophically, man what he is today is not really what he was yesterday and ideally should not be what he will be tomorrow. All of us are supposed to evolve and if not that then ….. change. There is of course such a thing as retrogressive evolution; so I guess evolve is pretty much the word- for good or for bad. So essentially life as long as it is living will evolve weather for better or worse. So the corollary of this man and environment thing can be that if you evolve to be better than yourself, can you also influence the environment around you? This is of course assuming that man and his environment is one open system and there is a continuous exchange of energy between them. Hmmm interesting is this what is supposed to be making a contribution to society? Is this what the whole endeavor of living is supposed to be about?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>IS this how contribution is supposed to be, as a by product of change that is with in you? Or is it supposed to be more o f an active process than that. Hmmm what a tangent!Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-23445682514639141042010-09-20T17:11:00.000-07:002010-09-20T17:24:11.317-07:00Spin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.picturesof.net/_images_300/Woman_Skydiving_Royalty_Free_Clipart_Picture_090124-082014-779042.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 298px;" src="http://www.picturesof.net/_images_300/Woman_Skydiving_Royalty_Free_Clipart_Picture_090124-082014-779042.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></a><p class="MsoNormal">As she got up her whole world was spinning out of focus, she was not sure if she was standing up or lying down or hanging upside down for that matter. All she cared about at that point was that she had still somehow managed to grip the thing tight and still had a death grip on it. She was hurtling thru at the speed of god knows what. Let it all work out dear lord she thought. All she cared about then was that if she could if only she could land on her two feet safe and sound she will never ask anything ever, from god ever again. She will not ask for any other divine manipulation or intervention for as long as she lived. This meant a lot to her and come to think of it for the whole of mankind. This is something that the world better be thankful for. But all that only when they knew about it; All that only when she could land on her two feet. She checked for the straps and she checked for her grip, she still had it in her hand. Good . She was surprisingly also able to think, which was also a good thing; Considering she did not have a whole lot of time it was now or never. With the last leap of faith as she had seen in the movies for as long as she remembered and also in the flying school where she was an apprentice for a few summers. She yanked on the rope that would tell her if her parachute was going to save her or not and ….</p>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-81853343741973274952010-06-29T10:58:00.000-07:002010-06-29T11:12:10.413-07:00A letter to You<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "><div>You are the one i want to be with. you are the one i want to call when i see something funny. when i read something beautiful. you are the one whose hand i want to squeeze when i need reassurance. you are my strength.</div><div><br /></div><div>You are the one that i have found, when i didn't even know i was looking for. it was an idea that i fell in love with. you are the reality that is even more wonderful that the idea that it was.</div><div><br /></div><div>You make me feel loved like no one else. You literally take the pain away from my heart and my back.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>"I must have had a wicked childhood. </div><div>I must have had a miserable youth...</div><div>But somewhere in that wicked miserable past, </div><div>There must have been a moment of truth. </div><div>For there you are standing there loving me </div><div>Weather or not you should. </div><div>so somewhere in my youth or childhood </div><div>I must have done something good."</div></div><div><br /></div><div>I say better than good.</div><div><br /></div><div>You make my life, being who you are. May god bless you cos as long as you are there I am.</div><div>ps: I love you</div><div><br /></div></span>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-17679587363726009852010-03-25T13:18:00.000-07:002014-01-03T23:51:52.615-08:00Waiting Room<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYfgwcYvNOO3x5GhARubTkFi-Mcc42NBTmgHgDSgFNUeFbRhW64G18AEowd2HzyqNHvy7t8xtQmNsa2U7UFv0DJMO3MefneXIpHXwOuY2xvYKsnotAYsdyNvwEKSMC59iapA6AJZYbDcI/s1600/waitingroom.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452672298978109762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYfgwcYvNOO3x5GhARubTkFi-Mcc42NBTmgHgDSgFNUeFbRhW64G18AEowd2HzyqNHvy7t8xtQmNsa2U7UFv0DJMO3MefneXIpHXwOuY2xvYKsnotAYsdyNvwEKSMC59iapA6AJZYbDcI/s400/waitingroom.gif" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 254px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 254px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"></span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: black; counter-reset: __goog_page__ 0; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-left: 6px; margin-right: 6px; margin-top: 6px; min-height: 1100px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Suvarna looked outside the window into the dark, gloomy, still and oppressive night of the monsoons. She was hoping to find those answers that were difficult to come by in the neon lit blinding harshness of the room. Sitting by the window looking at the ser</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">ene</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">and peaceful </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">form of her husband, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">if you could ignore the needles and tubes weaving in and around his body; he could well be sleeping</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">. Harsh- just the name itself brought back so many memories.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">She</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> still re</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">membered the first time that I had seen</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> him. His winsome smile- not privy to her then but she </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">had </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">still felt enveloped in its</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> projected warmth. Not that she</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> had any particular reason to seek it</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> from anyone. She had had enough, rather more th</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">an enough for her own; coming f</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">r</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">o</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">m a large and boisterous family with loving and communicative parents and siblings. Sometimes they pushed you to the attic or even </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">chajja of your balcony to escape into one’s personal space. Well, she wouldn’t want it any other way either. She loved her life, loved her family, loved the simple mathematics of sharing things between three, which invariably made Amul a more prudent choice than Cadbury’s.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">B</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">ut lately she had been experiencing </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">a seed within her deepest self</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">t</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">he need to call something </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">her own; a</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">ll her own </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">without considering anything or anyone else. Wasn’t this the time of life when you were an individual more than a part of a family? Where the question about her parents is not third in line next to her name and school while playing in the park.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Sh</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">e was her own self now, far</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> from what she had been so far. Even in a big city people had known her as the daughter or later in school as the sister…</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Now she was finally what she was intended to be since the moment she was conceived a person, no matter how little, but herself. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Nobody knew her other as anyone else</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">’s something</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">, if at all they did</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> know her that is</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">. And then she had seen Harsh. No</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">one else but him seemed to brighten up an already very</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> bright summer day! He seemed t</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">o </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">breathe</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> action into the very inert and soggy bunch of students waiting for the orientation to be</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">gin. An orientation </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">to t</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">he course, the way of life, in</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> the art and science of brewing.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">A knock on the door brought her back to her present. A very dreary, sanitized, savlon-smelling present. A nurse pushed </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">in </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">a cart laden with all kinds of pills and injections</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">. She stopped for a word of comfort, sympathy and got back to doing her job and tending her ministration</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">s</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> to her patient. Money, a lot o</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">f money can get you not just a private hospital room with the</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> best medical care but also compassion. I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">do not doubt</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> people’s </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">capacity for </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">compassion, but having a well paid job in a leading hospital leaves you</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">r</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> mi</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">n</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">d relatively uncluttered to perceive trauma </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">and pain in the people around you</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> It is liberating to come to terms with the fact that the story like life is nobody else’s but your own. So here I drop the pretense of talking in the third person. I am Suvarna and this is my story.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">The nurse gave me words of encouragement and appreciation for my constant vigil by my husband’s side; telling me </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">how many such cases came back from coma to lead full lives. Well but I knew better than that. That future could not be ours, was not ours, not for Harsh and Suvarna. I was not being pessimistic, I was holding on to… some reality… Check …</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Checking out is what I was doing when he caught me staring at him. Only later did I realize that a question was directed at me and not just him, but everyone else was looking and waiting for me to respond.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Excuse</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> me! Could you repeat the question please</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">He smiled apparently benignly but I saw the lurking twinkle “why do you want to study wines and brewing?”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Well I was tougher than that, no amount of twinkly brilliance could unsettle me. For long.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> I smiled, bought some time and composure</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">;</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> shielded my eyes</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> on the pretext of protecting them from the sun.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“Well I am interested in it and want to pursue it.”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">I could see him shifting his attention to another student already.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“And I want to employ</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> the extensive lands around Narayangaon near Pune that my father owns into something profitable, which would also provide creative and entrepreneurial satisfaction.”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Now it was my turn to look smug and nonchalant. I have a few tricks up my sleeve too mister; or haven’t you heard the saying- looks can be deceptive. It could have been coined for me.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Nothing in my appearance is remarkable. Small and diminutive with thick plated hair and a very traditional face. Well nothing remarkable till you hear me speak that is! You see, I was brought up with enough love and positive energy around me to give me confidence and eloquence as a speaker with </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">a</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">distinct </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">raspy voice</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">.</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">The fact was only remarkable because</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> it was unexpected coming from someone as unremarkable as me. Anyway</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> I knew I had his</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> attention then, what I didn’t know was how deeply it ran and for what reasons.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Colle</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">ge was like one perfect dream; it not only gave me a sense of purpose but also </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">promise of a brilliant future. I could not have asked for more. So perfect a picture couldn’t have photoshopped it better. Everything seemed to fall into place effo</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">rtlessly. Or did it? During the</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> course of </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">this </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">time I got to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">spend more time with Harsh and get to know him</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> more</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> (or so I thought). We spent many an evening</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> together. Talking, laughing, sharing, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">and arguing</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">. It only seemed a natural progression for him to propose marriage and for me to accept. Or was it the other way around? Who knows for sure? Anymore.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">I still remember</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> the evening when I called my father, papa- my Hero, my confidante. His cautionary stance could also not break my bubble; neither could it protect </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">me from our lofty ambitions. Mine and Harsh’s.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">We got married soon after, full of ideas, hope, dreams and plans. We could not wait to get our hands dirty and busy with making wines</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">. It was too idyllic to last </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">our lifetime. I didn’t even notice</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> the distance that wedged and was squeezing itself between the two of us. Initially when both of us got back home we were dead tired to do anything other than sleep and</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> be</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> ready for another day. It was understandable for Harsh to put in extra hours and I was more than busy myself. So what if he spent most weekends in Pune? There were always things going on between the vinery in Pune and vineyards in Nar</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">ayangaon. Infact the only time H</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">arsh wasn’t in Pune was when I was.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">We were so involved with our enterprise; our friends all but disowned us</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">, except ofcourse for Karthik, my junior in colle</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">ge. We always got along like a house on fire. Infa</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">ct the popular joke was that if</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">had </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">not married Harsh, it would have been Karthik with the</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> third</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> coming as a package deal! We often laughed over it. Something this funny is only funny </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">because</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> its not. But this I know only in hind sight.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">I was shaken out of my reverie when Karthik barged into the room. He looked devastated. You see he was not there when the accident happened. Actually nobody was around. Harsh always an early riser was all set to go on site. It was the day we were meeting out short listed potential investors. Our small neat little well run enterprise, all set to take its next leap into the big league. I cant say that I was happy with the decision. I have been managing its promotion, its finances, everything other than brewing. That was the job of Harsh, he had the uncanny touch for these details and production, infact Karthik and Harsh. You see Karthik was by now assisting Harsh in production. This arrangement was working wonderfully for everyone. I had the independence of making all financial de</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">cisions, micromanager that I am</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">, I had the freedom and luxury to look and overlook all money matters. Karthik and Harsh were only too happy to be left to their creativity and science as they called it</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">. The o</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">nly passion that seemed to bind them </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">together </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">was making and brewing wines. Lately they had begun to feel stifled </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">by my inability to manage funds; (read: making</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> capital available for their lofty expansion plans</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> and experiments</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> in the winery.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> I was content basking in the accomplishment of successfully launching and managing the production of two labels of our wine, our very own wine. But then I was convinced how my complacence may cost the company its promising future. Funny, that was the first time I noticed how my company or even our company had metamorphosed into the company. I was told how I was being inconsiderate of Harsh and Karthik’s efforts and visions.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">I suddenly felt like the third wheel</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">. But it was just a feeling righ</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">t? Must be the PMS kicking in. It</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> was happening a lot lately so much so that I could no longer differentiate pre from the post. I would hav</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">e continued to blame it on my ho</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">rmones if I hadn’t gotten up earlier to overhear Harsh to what could only be Karthik.</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">He had the copyright</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> to call Harsh no matter the time. I had begun to resent it and with good reason as I soon discovered.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“T</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">hese distances will disappear soon buddy. Just wait till we </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">finalize</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> this deal with the Malla</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">n’s. I am sure Suvarna can be persuaded to sell</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> her share, now that we will have the big guns managing </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">money.”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“Lately her maternal instincts have also been kicking in”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“Its just a question of waiting. Don’t give up on us yet. Not when we have seen our dream though all these years. Remember it didn’t seem like such a great idea when </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">I bulldozed you into taking the</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> course.”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“D</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">on’t give up on us when we are so close to sealing our future together.”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“A</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">lright see you on the weekend, I am sure we will be toasting to our togetherness.”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Yes!</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“Oh come on when has she gotten up this early?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Yes I know. See you soon. Ya I am just going down the stairs and out.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Yup see you soon. Ya love you too.”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">He turned, must have felt rather than heard my presence. In</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">fact things would have been entirely different had he not turned just then. Looked me in my face. I saw a fleeting shock, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">settling</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> int</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">o</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">a de</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">vil may care smirk. It was that smirk that galvanized my hands into pushing him away, only away at that point was down the stairs. He slipped tumbled, ever so softly to the floor below</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">into unconsciousness. So noiselessly that n</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">either the m</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">a</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">ali, nor the driver seemed to take</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> any notice.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">At that point I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">did what any human would, turned back and slept an extra hour, having my mind at rest after so long. I was tired of blaming myself for being unreasonable, suspicious, distant and moody. Things had fallen into place after all. Finally.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">I was woken up by Bai, who called</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> the hospital. I was frantic now</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"> that the enormity of the situation su</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">nk in. T</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">he pacing outside the ward was very genuine, so was the ashen pallor. The bated breath with which I heard the doctor</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">’</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">s verdict was very real too.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">“If only </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">you </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">had </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">brought him earlier </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">things may have been different, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">we could have done something. He was already in deep coma before we could get to him. He will be severely disabled, a vegetable the rest of his life, unless he shows some sign of life </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">and movement </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">in the next 48 hours. ”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">I went limp and faded into oblivion. Not with grief.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;">Now I can close my eyes and relax as I hear my wrist watch beep. Harsh had lain as peaceful as when he was brought and the 48 hours were up. Finally.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-28472752192560950242010-03-15T15:33:00.000-07:002010-03-15T16:01:55.013-07:00Revenge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwA0EBaAXtbmpteUEnYRs4t9Oy5IoUPK1mfU5uF95FN5lPjootHuIRPAzVlR1awaaVY_Qou6QrVTGgoRFbuEnTPy5D8LumyGaBOMPRolw3tZzHzeneZAoZaJ0k5iWDEtlbAvsMv_CN7E/s1600-h/Kill_Bill_1024+copy.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 269px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwA0EBaAXtbmpteUEnYRs4t9Oy5IoUPK1mfU5uF95FN5lPjootHuIRPAzVlR1awaaVY_Qou6QrVTGgoRFbuEnTPy5D8LumyGaBOMPRolw3tZzHzeneZAoZaJ0k5iWDEtlbAvsMv_CN7E/s400/Kill_Bill_1024+copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448999564658055858" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;">For years it has been me who has been going to the animal house, spending hours in that place fit only for the creatures that are housed in them. Fit for no human being. All the dirty work of cleaning the cages, the shit and the dead fall to me. I don’t get any part of the glory that these scientists claim as soon as one of these shows the kind of tumerous growth on one feet or neck; Later even more so when they can shrink it to size. It is I the unsung hero who has been at the back of all these discoveries silently toiling away at the beck and call of all these young and useless little twits who think they have a larger share of the pie because they make intellectual contribution to the project.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;">I had a nice vacation planned to spend time with my Vinny in the garden. We both have been looking forward to this day for such a long time. Just because I don’t have a safari booked as my honeymoon and I am not getting married on this weekend , does it make my holiday any less earned that this wh*** and ass of a woman who comes masquerading into the lab thrice a week and everyone seems to eat out of her hands! And I don’t give a crap about the time that she is supposed to be spending in the clinic, if she is not in the lab she could be out shopping for all I know, preparing for her big day.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;">Do people who aren’t getting married; not entitled to a holiday? Are their needs less important? Are their holidays less deserved? Anyway not that anyone has even been thinking about these questions? Easy for them to say that “Peter you can take care of the mice for this weekend cant you? Its not like you have to be somewhere!” sure I will take care of them, after all it’s the mice I dearly love. I can spend hours with them, talking to them being with them. Why else would I consent to spend hours in the animal house? Not for the money it pays me for sure! Today is the last day that woman will see the animal house or any other house or anything for that matter. She is leaving her all her hard work of all these years behind in that room in my care she says….<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;">Little does she know she will leave more than all that she will leave her life behind tonight in that animal room. All that hullabaloo for a wedding that is not going to be but then… they don’t know that do they? Not all that high and mighty are they? All these doctors and PhDs… <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;">If only they could let me and Vinny be on our own this weekend. I wouldn’t have to …<o:p></o:p></span></p>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-25872121305781970422010-03-11T13:08:00.001-08:002013-09-05T19:47:49.818-07:00Cinderella and her Mom...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcdj9gbHW_xlwePPpcpu5zB_W8fjMe0FaKPJ1bw1OA0ae5vuzmY-hMnTj15LQPXUdCeeGXI70Ob1EexMYzjfWi85qtWcg5FQG6tflPnHu5JTow0f5OGMU3YAAcJDsMXusX5FMSeqwixAU/s1600-h/best.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447486126594037906" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcdj9gbHW_xlwePPpcpu5zB_W8fjMe0FaKPJ1bw1OA0ae5vuzmY-hMnTj15LQPXUdCeeGXI70Ob1EexMYzjfWi85qtWcg5FQG6tflPnHu5JTow0f5OGMU3YAAcJDsMXusX5FMSeqwixAU/s320/best.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; width: 255px;" /></a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">All of us know about the Cinderella whose</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> genes made it possible for her to be like her mother to be able to wear her mom's cool clothes and the much coveted shoe! And she did not have to live with a kind she wanted to grow up to be like!</span></span></span><br />
<div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: black; counter-reset: __goog_page__ 0; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-left: 6px; margin-right: 6px; margin-top: 6px; min-height: 1100px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But what about those mere mortals who forever live in the shadow of their super-woman moms. Who possess no apparent legacy to stand a chance of measuring up to "the" original. Who forever try and finally give up the eventuality of never being able to go one up. Now in all fairness most of the moms never do quite take kindly to their daughters being less than perfect (read the best versions of themselves!) but there are those that actually do not expect you to be their size. They want you to spead your own wings look for your own pastures and do your own flying and navigating while u are at it. I</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">t</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> is those one who make it so difficult to resent them cos well they are as up there as the up itself c</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">an afford to be without being gi</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ddy!</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That ladies and gentlemen, how my mom is. Imagine my plight to have had to live with such a person all the initial formative years of my life. Mind you before I became aware of the living </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">up to</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">thingie, I was more than blissful, as ignorants are made out to be. But slowly and slowly when I realized the super powers of my mother, I very brashly and promptly tried resisting and rebelling (job profile of a teenager) against her sense of order and discipline (for lack of a better word!) and each time I was met with a cool reassuring and even understanding a smile, as if she knew what my struggle with myself was about. It was infuriating to say the least, I could not shake her resolve to love me and continue to show me the light. You know how mothers can be when it co</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">m</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">es to their own child. Well she was unarguably the best kind</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. After all my teenage years of rebel and guerilla warfare tactics, I finally decided to give up trying to be better (who am I kidding) rather as good as her. That gave me the freedom to appreciate the person I was sharing my life with without the pressure of being like her. And that really did set me free from a lot of baggage but not all. I still tried to keep at it not in terms of a competition but more as a gold standard in life.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Many years after making my peace with the thought I happened to closely observed my own mother being under the wing of her mother. And I saw the little girl in my self assured mother striving to make food the way my nani can or rather does. I saw my mother looking for approval, striving for that internal measure-up to her mother.And somehow this wisdom dawned on me that the years and the effort that I spend in making myself better is all that matters and how continuous this whole exercise is or at least should be and</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> how long am I going to be at it.....</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Apparently all my life </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: wingdings;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">J</span></span></span></span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-54890610112458593652010-02-04T09:20:00.000-08:002010-03-03T16:03:23.403-08:00Pensive<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://middlezonemusings.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/memory.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 401px;" src="http://middlezonemusings.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/memory.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed with don't know what but the only outlet then seems to pour it out on the paper or screen in this case. Theres just nothing else to do than just type on with some music playing as a background and letting your mind wander and wonder.<div><br /><div>There is nothing that is particularly wrong with life in fact probably nothing but its just like there is such a back log of things that I sometimes have been in too much of a hurry to have felt. It becomes necessary to kind of re-visit it before you can move on. I miss not having a "pensive" in such times. I think writing for me is also akin to putting the slivery slivers into my pensive. Is there anyone else out there that has had such bouts?</div><div><br /></div><div>I absolutely love the concept of memory, its wonderful to be able to go back and re-live it, re-create it in your head. The most interesting thing of it all is that all this kind of takes you by total surprise, mostly when you are least expecting it. It could be a song, a face, a colour, just randomly anything at all. Most times there is no discernible link between the trigger and the memory that is triggered. Although that does not stop you from trying to find a connection. At times I do succeed but that is not the point of the whole exercise if thats what it is. Mind thankfully keeps track of all that we feel, sometimes it also keeps what we have not felt. Some of my experiences have certainly enhanced upon revisiting it in my head. Bizarre as it sounds I think it is true.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4318455910595349366.post-56247120176026658012010-02-04T09:15:00.000-08:002010-02-04T09:20:16.687-08:00Reality Bites.<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">It was a bad start of the day. The alarm had gone off as it should but somehow it had failed to rouse me from my dreamless sleep. At least not till Supriya literally shook me and drenched me out of it with the help of some water from my night stand. Apparently not a good start for her either considering, the persistent shrill wake up buzz got her from her room to mine through the adjoining balcony that we share in our hostel.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">Her extreme measures resulted in some name calling which subsided into my sheepish wane of a smile as I remembered the note I had struck on her door last night.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">Anyway the point being that today of all days, it was specifically painful to be up and about in the morning to attend an extra class in collage. As if these extra hours on a cold wintry foggy <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Delhi</st1:place></st1:city> morning will change the course of my life! Ya right!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">I hastily got up, now fully aware of the time or the lack of it. Got ready in record time thanks to unknown series of events, that resulted in an available bath cubicle with steaming hot water; as though god himself wanted to make up for his earlier foul up of my day.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">Of course later I got to know that god was working through Shikha’s NRI boyfriend calling her at these strange hours of the weekend mornings.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">As I walk the streets in early foggy <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Delhi</st1:place></st1:city> morning, I am just hoping that this turns out to be worth my while, me traveling all across the city in this less than ideal weather. May be we can catch a movie if the class gets over in time. So far so good, at least the bus was on time. This in local lingo means that it came with in five min of my reaching the 100 meters stretch of land called the bus stand. It just keeps getting better; just as I walk in I manage to plonk myself into the last empty seat of now quickly filling bus. As I settle into the bumpy ride, characteristic of a non-jam packed bus, I spot an old baba and even though I am feigning a nap I feel or rather imagine his censure as he stands right next to my seat. Finally the devil in me gives up; not without a good fight though and I offer him the seat, which he graciously accepts of course. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">I blame my semi-awake state to the defeat of the devil within. Something happens that jolts me out of it. A casual caress on my butt, not that it would be the first but still its relatively difficult to get away with in a not so full a bus passage. I crane my neck and see this old man’s umbrella jutting out. Beep! False alarm. No need for hackles to be up, just yet. Now at least I am wide awake<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">All remnants of my sleep evaporate as I try to soak in the morning sun and thaw. It is nothing more that a warm glow through the fog. I actually begin to enjoy my ritualistic ride to my college and things are looking up as the oldie starts gathering himself to get off. As he reaches for the supporting rod to heave himself up; he blatantly brushes across my assets and before I can put into any of the billion ways of retribution, he gets off. All I manage to say with enough vehemence is “I hope you die and go to hell you moronic low life”.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">A strange thing happened just then as I saw myself, taking the seat in the bus and a wispier version of me floats out into the open to witness a very sorry scene. In his hurry to get off and away from his scene of crime, he runs right into the path of a truck ending in a bloody head on.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">The nest thing of course I know is that I am sitting in the bus. Thoroughly puzzles and spooked by what I saw or what I thought I saw. Was it possible that I have just had an out of body experience? I am filled with guilt and remorse and anger. Unwittingly the saying flashes through my mind “be careful for what you wish for, you might just get it.” Why did I have to say those words right then? And most importantly, of all the things I could have asked god for, in his moment of benevolence, I have wasted that one wish on the scum that I would hardly cross paths with. Why of all the things I ask god for, he had to grant me this?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">As I am castigating and berating myself mentally, my co passenger nudges me and then shakes me out of my reverie.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">“What is wrong with you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">“Are you on dope? How can you go to sleep on the wet pillow”?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">Don’t you have to be somewhere?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">As I open my eyes I see Supriya bending over me. I release the breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. A feeling of relief was washing over me in waves.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">Completely oblivious to my near escape from my dream, Supriya is chatting away to glory having brought me some breakfast from the canteen. I am happy to see her do things that fill my life with the normalcy I have suddenly come to appreciate. Probably because it was so short lived.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">Supriya reads the headlines from the news paper and laments over it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">“Just look at the state of traffic in the city. Just yesterday an old man got crushed under a truck as he was getting down from a bus.” Happened right in the morning, where we all go through.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">Before I could recover and contemplate over the implications of this piece of news, she walked out the door and popped her head back in for the warning.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;">“I am off but listen you better keep away from Shikha for a while; she is on your case and knows it was you who used her hot water yesterday.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Shrutihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12958843986321312878noreply@blogger.com2