Railgadi..

I am travelling home to Bhopal. J I had big plans for this trip but as it goes with planning, most of my plans are bombed. So I thought a simple trip to home is always harmless. Let’s make it.

So here I am sitting in Rajdhani Express heading to Bhopal. Yeah, the best train in India. A lot of people, specially my parents and especially my dad, are not too fond of traveling in the AC coaches. They say that the tainted windows and curtained partitions rob the “experience” of traveling Indian Railways and you can get this “experience” only when you are traveling in the sleeper coach. I have a theory on this, though. You see, while a lot of Indians are making a lot of money, the “core” middle class “Indianness” remains the same. The “Third AC” is the new sleeper class and the “experience” pretty much remains the same.

Take for example, this trip. Being my dad’s daughter, I was the first one to get on the train after being almost an hour and a half early to the railway station. It is a matter of pride and habit to do so which I doubt I will be able to get rid of in this lifetime. Once I am on and comfortably settled in my seat (after taking the maximum space possible for my two teeny weeny bags), some others start getting on as well. Three young men get on first and one of them, unfortunately for him, has a broken shoulder. His friends made fun of him constantly and at the same time ensured that he's always comfortable. The young men are speaking excellent Hindi. At the same time, their informal tone is unmistakably “Bhopali”. And then the most interesting person of this trip boards the train. He must be in his late 50s and let’s call him Uncle ji. Our Uncle ji has graying hair but he has been given a middle berth, which he understandably doesn’t like. He asks the young man with broken shoulder if he can take his seat. That’s the first thing you always do in Indian trains. You exchange your seats. You “adjust”. Our young man’s plaster is hidden under his shirt and he explains why he can’t change the seat. Our Uncle ji gets very furious. Not because he is stuck on the middle berth, but because the young one was so callous to even think of wearing a shirt on when he has a broken shoulder. To shirt kyun pehen rakhi hai? Pardarsan (pradarshan) karo nahi to huemin kya pata ki tumhara haath toota hai. The young man did the pardarsan alright for the rest of the journey. Our Uncle ji decides to step out for a while. Everyone around me exchange meaningful glances to not “encourage” this Uncle ji.

As our Uncle ji is coming back, he stops at the adjacent aisle and asks a gentleman where he is going. Second rule of train travel – It is your primary business and personal duty to know where everyone gets down. The gentleman replies that he is going to Kanpur but he will get down at Delhi. Uncle ji doesn’t like that one bit. He literally shouts at the man and says getting down in Delhi is all wrong and that he should actually get down at Jhansi. And my aisle starts laughing uncontrollably.

Dinner is served soon (it is Rajdhani Express afterall). I refused dinner since I had a very heavy snack. Uncle ji is mad again and I am lectured on how I should never skip dinner. Well if he had the means to look into my stomach contents, his advice would have been to skip meals altogether the following day as well. 

I wake up very early in the mornings whenever I am traveling. I love watching the sunrise through the fields from the train. As kids, Sandeep and I would also open the window to breathe the fresh morning air. This morning was very beautiful as well. The monsoon greenery was all over. The best colors known to the human kind – bright pink, deep orange, sharp blue, soothing green – were creating the golden hour. The fields had new crops growing and I could almost feel the softness of the new leaves. I tell you, it is magical!

The day goes by with breakfast and lunch served. Uncle ji has a heavy breakfast, burps heartily. He then scolds me for reading in the train and then starts reading the newspaper. And I smile, in spite of myself. People are listening to the music, watching a movie or just idling by before the lunch is served. And then everyone sleeps again after lunch. Once the tea is served, people get ready for casual conversations. An aged uncle is searching for his chappal (footwear). Another rule when you travel – People will take care of your luggage, but your chappal is your responsibility. His wife finds it for him 4 aisles down. God knows how it got there!

And as I start noticing the conversations around me, I am surprised how much people have to talk about even to complete strangers. Tax, VAT, Corruption, Manmohan Singh, BJP, movie stars – it is all covered. Soon they also start talking about the young generation and how the whole family dynamics have changed over the years. 

As I write this, we have just crossed Maharashtra and have entered Madhya Pradesh (MP). The train passes many hills and the art work of monsoons is evident everywhere. I stop writing and bask in the beauty thoroughly. I realize fully now that I am going to be home. The feeling of being home is the most relaxing feeling in the world!

Times have changed. I have upgraded from the sleeper to the Third AC. People are carrying all sorts of gadgets with them in train now. There are even charging docks everywhere. They use a freshner in the compartment. I see a suave gentleman reading through the Wall Street Journal on his iPad. I am even surprised to see one young man from Bhopal speaking flawless Tamil (he has a business there). Another man tells that he is originally from West Bengal but loves working in Bangalore. Times, indeed, have changed a lot but it still is all so familiar. Like I have been through this drill all my life. The more things have changed, they more they really have remained the same.

I have refused dinner today as well. There is a hearty meal awaiting me when I get home. In the meantime, there are still some interesting conversations on and I think I will pay attention to them, maybe even become a part of some.

This is me signing off from B4, Rajdhani Express, India! 

Reading or eReading?

“The habit of reading is the only enjoyment in which there is no alloy; it lasts when all other pleasures fade.”  - Anthony Trollope 

Like everything else evolving around us, books and reading in general has also evolved tremendously over the past few years. Even though dedicated e-book readers existed for a while, the biggest revolution in the field came when Amazon launched Kindle in 2007. It captured the imagination of a generation and it soon became the most popular Christmas gift. I received my Kindle as a Christmas gift. :)

The competition within the e-book readers market is very stiff. Of course, Kindle and Nook with their e-Ink displays remain the most popular readers by a distance. However, when Apple launched the iPad, even Amazon could not resist the temptation and launched Kindle Fire which can let you read books and do more. Whatever e-book reader you may have, though, the advantages are many. I can now carry about 3500 books in a single device which is about the size of a fiction book. No more wondering how to dispose the books which I do not want anymore. And I can now pick and chose what to read when I am travelling.  

But does our brain process a e-book the same way as a regular book? This is a very interesting question. Studies suggest that it takes a while for our brain to adjust to a new information medium because it disturbs the balance between the focal and peripheral attention. But apparently with repeated usage, our brain gets used to the idea. Naturally, our brains are tuned to information with a physical address or entity. Secondly, while we do have an advantage of having an instant dictionary and even web access for more information on our e-book readers but scrolling and typing on e-book readers could be more distracting than engaging.  

I personally mix and match. I can read realms of fiction on my e-book reader. But when it comes to “learning”, I much prefer to have a paperback. Maybe it has got to do with how my mind has been conditioned coming from a generation of textbooks and notebooks. But maybe this generation of kids who are exposed to digital media like never before, will have different preferences.  

All said and done though, there are very few things which give the thrill of the touch crisp pages and smell of fresh print.  

Two beautiful questions for the day - What are you reading next? What are you reading on next?

Shantaram - A Review!

I have what I would like to call a writer’s block. Blogger’s block would probably be more apt. Some may just brush it as pure laziness while others may give a condescending smile on yet another blogger who lost the steam. Whatever it may really be, but it is true that I can’t bring myself to write any more. Lots of people have asked me why I stopped. I have thought about it a lot and the best explanation I can come up with is that life doesn’t happen to me the way it did 4 years back. I am not as sarcastic as I used to be and I enjoy making fun of people and myself only occasionally now. My life has moved on quite a bit, the people in my life are not the same anymore and times have really changed. It isn’t that life is boring or anything. Infact, there is much more going on. I am busier than ever. But most of my writing now happens in the personal journal rather than this space which has been my venting zone for far too long.

However, every once in a while I do visit this blog as a visitor. Ironically, I have to apply one of the illegal motivations that I used on most of the regular people here on myself to visit my own blog. (FYI, a bribe to self of two plates of panipuri is what usually works). Yeah, its come down to that! I read the stuff and wonder. Sometimes it feels like I am reading a stranger’s life, maybe, even intruding someone’s private space. But then, here I am writing, maybe venting a little bit too, again about something which I don't mind sharing with www at all.. J

So, I just finished reading Shantaram, a magnum opus by Gregory David Roberts. It is an epic autobiographical yet fictional story, running over 900 pages, of an Australian convict who escapes a maximum security prison and finds himself in Mumbai living in a slum, speaking fluent Hindi and Marathi, setting up an illegal clinic for the city’s poorest, spending months in an Indian prison, working for the Mumbai mafia and in some Bollywood movies, going on a war in Afghanistan, beating opium addiction and trying to redeem himself in the midst of many lost loves.

It really is hard to separate fact from fiction in Lindsay Ford’s tale. As per Greg himself, most of the events that find a mention in the book are real but the characters and story are fictional. Lindsay meets a local city guide, Prabaker who becomes his best friend without either of them realizing the depth of the bond. The unusual friendship takes Lindsay or Linbaba, as lovingly called by Prabaker and eventually everyone he knows in Mumbai, to a small village called Sunder in Maharashtra where he actually gets a new name – Shantaram, a man of peace. But it isn’t until Lin goes through an adventurous and brutally tumultuous life marked by faith and philosophy, freedom and betrayal that he comes to measure the full meaning of this name and why he was given the name.

The book deals with detailed description of life and challenges in slums, the brutal yet surprisingly honorable working of the mafia, the innocence and generosity of people who have nothing more to share than a home cooked roti but a heart big enough to encompass the whole world. One of the endearing themes of the book is how Lin falls in love with Mumbai herself. It is a beautiful account of the great city I fell in love with the first time I saw it. The famous Mumbai monsoons, the Leopold's cafe and numerous other places to eat, Ganapati and Haji Ali, the dabbawallas and the Zaveri Bazaar - they all find a mention. But the most beautiful thing about the book, perhaps even the most emotional one, is to see my country and my people through the eyes of an outsider who in the end is no different than one of our own. It is true that Indians, the middle class Indians, not the stinky rich or even today’s information technology junta, are one of the most loving, accommodating and hospitable people in the whole world who somehow make tradition and modern work together in spite of, sometimes because of the contradictions, with a sense of humor like no one else has and a smile and happiness that bubbles forth from the core of existence in spite of everything that goes on in and around them. And when Linbaba tells the tales of these wonderful people, you sometimes find tears making their way into your eyes from the deepest corner of your heart.

The book isn’t without its flaws. It is too long for one and sometimes you just know what is going to happen next. Some of the characters and events are just one too many. Some of the names are made up without any thought or research (like a Sardar named Anand Rao!!). Greg succeeds supremely when he is accounting his facts in the fiction but fails more often than once when it comes to fiction itself. Another thing that I find a bit hard to believe is when Lin says and emphasizes that he never killed another person even when he was in a war engaged as a soldier in one of the most hostile war zones in the world. But the description of Afghanistan and the war is beautiful and heart wrenching at the same time.

It is a very good book. I strongly recommend it. But you will have to give the book a chance. Maybe after the first 100 pages, you will see the big heart of all the characters and the amazing, miraculous life of the author himself.

Is it a masterpiece? Maybe not. But who cares, yaar? No, Linbaba? J

Krishna Govinda!!! Reloaded!

I will tell you story today.

It was the year 2008. I was given a small stretch assignment at work which should have been completed in 3-4 days. It was some investigations on an application of which I had no idea. The application team was working on a project which was in total shambles and they had to get all hands on board. Typically my bosses avoid looking at my direction during emergencies unless it is an emergency which requires us to vacate the building. But this time they didn't have a choice. And I thought I knew what to do and kept postponing this work until I actually realized that it is not as simple as I thought it would be. Not for my peanut sized brain anyway. And I had realized that only a divine intervention could now possibly save me. I had to prepare a spreadsheet and was supposed to share my findings and that spreadsheet to my boss on a call. I was in a soup and really needed something to calm my nerves before the call. 

My usual cure for nervousness is music. And being in the situation I was, I needed a bhajan and that is when I heard this for the first time. 

I instantly fell in love with this. There is certain effortlessness in Bhanu didi's singing. There is an ethereal softness and the bhakti is unmistakable. I heard it back to back for a couple of hours while filling something in that spreadsheet. Somehow my boss liked what I filled in there and asked me to do some more investigations on that. The next meeting was in two days. Needless to say, I was in a similar situation and had to get back to Krishna Govinda. And my boss liked my spreadsheet even more and asked me to dig even deeper. This wasn't a simple stretch anymore. I was complete and dirty into this project working on an application of which I had no idea about against a crazy deadline and with a team where everyone was getting on top of each other (and I say this very politely) to get the work done. I was finding myself in a situation every single day and everytime I would turn to Krishna Govinda to calm my nerves. And magically it would happen, things would work out and I was strangely finding myself winning over some really tense moments. 

Well, things eventually do work out. But how we go through the time before they do is the important thing to note my lord! Krishna Govinda always came up to my rescue! Always!! And then there were numerous satsangs in Dallas when I would attempt to sing this. Dallas AOL always was kind enough to allow me to have my way and let me sing a few lines. They would actually join in the fun! 

This is a very very special bhajan. I had the good fortune of doing the Sahaj Samadhi Meditation with Bhanu didi this weekend. There was no electricity today at the venue and it felt actually being in a Bikram Yoga class. She lead a meditation session and answered numerous questions (without a mike walking around the packed hall to ensure everyone could hear her) with a certain calm and poise I usually associate her brother with. :) I had the good fortune to listen her sing this real up close. And when she sang, it was with the same effortlessness and it was the same ethereal softness with the unmistakable Bhakti. 

I sang and I clapped and I was in a moment with the familiar feeling of being at home with complete strangers. 

It was a moment I felt grateful for this wonderful life!

The girl next door..

She is a friend from work. I just love the easy going demeanor she has. 

The Women of Substance

I really loved this click a lot. I had clicked this one during our Yercaud office trip earlier this year. A small tribute to all the wonderful women I know!

Hope - At the Traffic Signal

The week started with the worst kind of nightmares you expect at work. Big release around the corner, projects running in red, the usual chaos on the floor and yeah, yearly appraisal looming around the corner. Work can get really crazy at times. But you already know that! But in the midst of all this madness, something beautiful happened the other day. Something which gave me a lot to cheer about.  

I drive down to work daily. The 40 minute ride gives me enough time to plan my day. Sometimes I sing and that somehow makes me forget about the traffic I have to battle everyday. It puts me in a zone where all I am really bothered is the next note and how to zoom around and be right in front of the red signal. I think it is the monotony of the routine which makes you want to block your immediate reality out of the mind. I suspect everyone who drives in Bangalore have their own way of coping with traffic and stress like that. 

However, sometimes, something happens which snaps you out of that reverie. I was at the signal near St. John’s Hospital on the Hosur Road. (I work at EGL, Bangalore). This is a really long signal which can make you wait for 3 minutes if you are lucky to cross the signal in one go. During peak traffic hours, you may have to wait for almost 5-6 min before you can move on. It was such a morning. Somewhere at the end of that sea of vehicles stood an ambulance with its siren on. The really loud siren made people turn around. It sounded a desperate plea more than a warning signal. For a split second no one moved. And then all of a sudden, as if there was one collective consciousness and not our individual selves, began the honking from everyone waiting there. Everyone wanted to make way for the ambulance. Some moved left, some right a bit to make space. And soon the ambulance was moving amidst incessant honking. People actually peeped out of the windows and called aloud to make the person ahead of them move. People out of the way of the ambulance did not just wait. They all honked.  

It worked. The ambulance could move ahead of all that traffic and was right at the front before the signal turned green. It gave me goose bumps. I did wonder about our emergency management systems and how badly we are equipped to handle something as basic as this. But more than that, this small incident gave me hope. It made me believe in the human spirit that means only good. It also made me believe that we all can make a difference if we uphold the spirit of contribution.  

It was wonderful and it had made my day!

The Free Spirit!

I had not seen a face more beautiful than hers. She looked familiar as if I had known her as a friend forever. She had a perennial smile and could laugh at will. And when she laughed, everyone and everything around her would laugh. The flowers could bloom and the raindrops could shine. She walked with the grace of a swan, the pride of a young maid. She spoke the words of a Zen with the innocence of a child. She walked through the clouds with her feet firmly grounded. She was with everyone yet she was different. She looked at me once and she said a thousand words in her glance. She wanted me to do something and I could have done anything then. She met for a moment and yet she touched lives. She believed in love and yet she did not fear the hurt love might bring. She was special and she made me feel special, if only for a few moments. 

She was everything I ever wanted and ever wanted to be.  

I saw the free spirit today, I met a free soul!

The Second Homecoming

Yeah, yeah, I know what you are thinking and possibly even asking in the online gossip rooms. What has happened of me in this last one year? I have been getting a lot of concerned calls and comments on this blog asking me whether I was still alive, or worse I got married or something. So let me begin this post by assuring you all that I still exist and am very much single. Some of you might argue that existing and being single is really one and the same thing, but yeah, whatever.

So what really has happened of me in 2011? Lots, to be honest with you. So much so that I could have posted reams on my blog and blogger would have actually started charging a handsome for every post. But I did not have the heart to post any of it here. That’s because none of it was funny or just a tidbit. They were major happenings, the kind of events which shake the earth beneath your feet, make you cry like there is no tomorrow and change you as a person forever. You try to hold on to things and people. But you realize that they are gone and your tears will not bring them back. You are humbled and brought down to your feet and 2011 suddenly starts feeling like 2008 all over again, if you know what I am saying. No, you don’t blog about such things. You write them in your personal diaries and cry every time you go back and read them.

But my dear readers, if there are any left that is, there are a few things which you might be interested in knowing. Three of my favorite people got married – my cousin Rachana, my good friend Amit ji and my best friend Varsha. “Varsha”, probably, has been the most used word in this blog after “I”, “me” and “myself” so you all already know her. She is married to prince charming from Pittsburg - Shashank. I do have a hand in helping these two meet. You see, theirs is an arranged marriage and the ceremonial tea which Varsha took shyly in a tray when she met Shashank for the first time was made by yours truly. Like coffee, a lot can happen over tea as well and Varsha and Shashank can vouch for that. The celebrated and highly bribed commentator on this blog, Amit ji got married to this amazingly warm person Archana. Now I do take some credit for their marriage also because I have a habit of taking credit for everything good that happens around (? Ok, in spite of) me. The thing is Amit ji, at one point of time in his life, decided that he will never ever marry. And at that precise point of time in his life I let out a laughter louder than a F18. That, people, was the turning point in his life. But to be honest, one look at Archana ji is enough to understand why Amit ji is married to her. Yeah, she is that good. And finally, my sweetest and naughtiest sister Rachana married this cutie pie from Ahmadabad – Ravi. Do I have a hand in this too? Hell yes! Rachana could never have married any guy without my approval and she knows that bloody well!!  

But for these joys of life, I can’t imagine how I would have made it to 2012. Almost everything else tested me. I was tested for life and the results came positive. Wow! I like that sound of that! But in the midst of all that, I completely ignored this space. I did not feel like writing. I am back not because I have found an urge to be funny again. No, no, not that. But my friend Vishu, disguised as an anonymous, made me realize that it has been almost one year since I last posted. This has been my longest time away from this blog and I almost felt a little sad. It is not time to say sayonara, yet. But one more year of draught of posts, I think we can then call it a day.

Let me take a chance to wish you all a wonderful 2012. I don’t know why but I have a feeling that some wonderful things are in store this year. Some are shouting Armageddon already but hey, it might be the best thing that happens to us, who knows. Look forward to hope and happiness, take care of your health and your loved ones and love a little more than you did last year.

I sure am going to do all of that! 

United States of Anusha

Hello World!

As a lot of you might already be aware, due to sudden and unforeseeable turn of events, I am back to India.  The American life looks over, for now, at least. To say that the last few days have been tough would be an understatement. I had the worst kind of emotional upheavals, way too much physical labor, lack of good food, terrible weather and every other kind of problem you can think of. A lot of people who know me asked how I was feeling about the whole deal of moving back to India. Well, coming back to India was never an issue for me. I never expected to stay for 2.5 years in USA to begin with. It was the timing of it, just like my coming to US, which left me shattered and confused and happy and strangely satisfied.

The thing about having so many varied feelings at the same time is that, you don’t know which feeling is real and which one is just a natural response to a sudden drastic change.  I am happy to be home but I miss my best friend terribly. I have been so used to waking up to Varsha’s phonecall and sleeping after wishing her good night that I always used to tell her that – tere bina meri subah nahi chalti, tere bina meri shaam nahi dhalti etc. If there is one thing that I am going to miss about my life in USA would be you Varsha. Thank you for being there by my side, helping me out, with the toughest of situations and you know very well what it meant to be with you in the last couple of days there. Even being home with everyone I love does not overcome the sadness of not having you around. Your presence kept me going and it is because of you that I did all the fun things I did. Thanks for being such a wonderful, beautiful friend. You are one of the biggest blessings I have in life. Other than that, there were some friends in Kansas without who my stay in Kansas, my packing and moving would have been impossible. Sumit, Sandeep, Shraddha bhabhi, Sujay – Thank you guys. It would have been a mess without you being there. And yes Vishal – thank you for doing nothing. That really helped. :P  

I always took my work very professionally. Work and life rarely got mixed as far as I am concerned. But I did not realize that I made some very good friends in some of my colleagues/peers/competitors/bosses/customers. I never expected that I would be getting books and entertainment cds to keep me company for the long journey I had (and it helped a lot!!). I never expected that someone who is not required to even respond to my emails followed every facebook update I made and just wanted to know that I reached home alright. I never expected to hear some great things from my managers about what I did in the last couple of years. I honestly never expected that.  So thank you Allen, Bonnie, Karen, Don, Staci! It was a pleasure working with you and for you. I would love to do it again! Thank you for everything.

I made so many friends in US. I made more friends in the last couple of years than I did my entire life. And these are not passing acquaintances. I am talking about friends for life – V3, Alok-Reena, Shagun, Amar-Garima and everyone else. And of course the whole Art of Living group in Dallas, Houston and elsewhere. You guys are rockstars. My best days and moments were with you. I am going to miss you all, but I am so sure that we all will meet again that my goodbyes to you really mean nothing. But till we meet again take care and keep rocking as you do!

And oh, by the way, it was 14^th Feb yesterday - the day of celebrating love. Well I slept from noon till 9 PM and that helped keeping the red shaped balloons out of my way. But my jet lagged mind did some pondering and realized that maybe this love-shove is not for me. I know I am going to get some angry looks from V and some consoling comments here (please avoid if you can!) but it really is very weird. I don’t think I need to be wooed. I just need the presence of the person, an anchor who I can rely on and easily reach out to. I like to hear and be heard, I like to have fun, be funny and enjoy the big and small things in life (I have too many of them). Why in the name of love is that a very difficult thing to find? Isn’t that what the whole world is after? Maybe I am missing something here, maybe I am expecting too much, maybe I will find the person in due time. But matters of heart are so simple that they are way too complicated. I don’t think I have reached the point of frustration, yet but love (the Valentine’s Day, red ballon, pink teddy and chocolate variety) definitely eludes me. So maybe it is alright to experience all that I am experiencing in life in the grand scheme of things but it would be nice to have someone. Yeah…

I did get pink roses though from two lovely young kids from the family above our apartment. It was a very sweet homecoming.

The next innings start in Bangalore in just a few days. I have a lot to look forward to and I will do everything it takes to make these days bright and fun.

Keep checking this space for I have a long life and the tidbits keep happening to me more often than not! 

Happy Two Zero One One - Everyone!

Hiya people!

I did not have the customary end of year post this year..I did not have anything to write about..It was a strange year and it has gone by! Tata (tootles! LOLMAX!!)...

And as I stand on the threshold of 2011, unable to comprehend if it is 2010 or 2011 (much like the state border in Kansas City, unable to decide which state it really belongs to - err OK bad joke), I just see a lot of hope. Don't know for what, but dear ones, I pray for a lot of hope for everyone of you this year..However things turn out to be (some of them will be massive disappointments, some pleasant surprises), 2011 won't be too different from 2010 or any other year for that matter..But you have a chance to be different (don't be unrecognizable like the anonymous posters here.. :P) but be different like Maggi hot and sweet tomato chilly sauce..There is hope..And that will keep you going, inspite of everything!

Make the time of this year count..Learn something new, meet new people, select one dream you had a few years back and work hard to achieve it, earn a lot, spend a lot, smile a lot, laugh a lot! And then this time will be unlike any other year..

I know this post is more like a note to self...And I know I need it.. :-)

I "hope" you have a rocking 2011!!

Back With A "Vengeance"

Hee hee hee..How are you people?

Things have changed a lot since my last post. I conjured a full body patronus and the dementors are no where in sight now. (If you don’t understand what I just said, shame on you!). I am my cute, happy, cheerful, caustic, sarcastic self again!

That last post was a result of a mini heartbreak. Yeah, don’t give me that look, I do have a heart. Reason? Well, it’s complicated. That said, it was great fun to see some of the reactions to my last post. First up I realized that many read it. I did not know I had that many readers. In general people became extra sensitive in showing their disapprovals to my jokes. The usual “shut ups!” became “please, shut ups”. The look of disgust I normally get became looks of sympathy. And I was fed a lot in India in spite of mom’s instructions to all my relatives!

One anonymous dude (check out the comments in the last post) even went on to suggest that I should have trust in the Lord. Arey baba! Trust in the lord is what keeps me going every day. Given that I spend the entire year annoying people, I would not be alive but for the Grace of Almighty. And who did you call little girl, huh? Have you seen me? No? I never was a little girl, ask my mother! And you think I was a depressed birthday girl? Did you see how many cakes I cut that day? No? Did you see the big candle I blew? No? Did you know that Jiva restaurant, Hyderabad have stopped having buffets after I had my lunch there? Word is that their losses are way too heavy to recover. Do you know that I made tomato-green chilly maggi for a bunch of cousins at 2 AM, "on my birthday" and woke up all the people in that building after falling down on a basket full of washed utensils? (Please don't ask how I managed that!). You call me depressed? Dude, you don't know a thing! I am the reason for depression for many in this world. And yeah, thank you for reminding me, “on my birthday”, that I have very limited time left. Are you suggesting that I am getting old? Because if you are, thank God that you are anonymous. Pray to God that you remain anonymous, because hell hath no fury like a pissed off me, trust me. OK, tata, “tootles” (do you even know what that means?), shoo away!

Wow! It feels so good to be back!! :P

All is well!

Happy Birthday!!

October again..Another year goes by..

I am at home after a very long time...And For the first time in years, I had a plan for this day..I had a real grand plan..Of celebration, of joy, of love..I was looking forward to it..I had hope in my eyes, a certain warmth in my heart which was new..I thought there would be smiles..I thought there would be laughter...I thought there would be fun..I thought there would even be some happy tears.. 

But as it often happens, things in my life hardly go as planned...I am right in the middle of happiness and sadness, joy and tears, frustration and helplessness...It is funny that it had to be this day..I don't know what hurts more - the pain itself or the joy of my people on this day inspite of the pain.. 

It is not the best of my birthdays..But it sure reminds me of the fact that I exist. And as it goes with existence, you will get a mixed bag..And the funny thing is you are blind folded and so you don't know what you pick is good or bad...

Thanks a lot everyone for your wishes..Thanks for remembering me..Thanks a lot for reminding me that this day I should have a blast for it is my day..Your wishes mean a lot, even if they were just a scrap on facebook or a one line email, specially today..It not just filled my heart with joy, but also with the sweet warm feeling of knowing that I have some relations which stood the test of time..I am sure some of you are disappointed with me or wondering how much I have changed in these years. But we will work on it..Birthday hai yaar, come on,  maaf kar do.. :-)

I am accepting wishes for this birthday this entire week..Please keep sending them in cash/kind etc!!

Din hua begin!

Waking up in India is one of the most beautiful experiences. I have always tried to be an early riser with varying success results. Now that I am in India and heavily jet lagged, I can’t help but be up in these "unearthly" hours and notice what I never bothered to see before. I look out of my balcony (it is not called patio in this part of the world), I see so many things waking up and getting alive at about the same time, ready to see another day.

It is 5-15 am and the first sounds I notice are those of Salah from a nearby mosque. And as if Gods are trying to prove their unity in diversity, I hear the temple close by starting the morning bhajans as well. Which makes me wonder how many families around me must already be up and ready for their first prayers of the day? I see at least 5-6 houses having at least one light on. Yeah, you get those sorts of views from the balcony. I am pretty sure there must be a few where a young man/woman is trying to study for an Engineering or Medical entrance exam. I remember how my mom used to make me a fresh cup of ginger tea every morning without fail just so that she could see me become an Engineer one day. The result of her efforts – I became an Engineer and a long time caffeine addict. She has of course now stopped debating the utility and futility of it all.

The other active lots are paper wale bhaiyya, newspaper delivery men. Our newspaper is delivered sharp at 5-30 AM. In about an hour, my dad will be skimming through it with utmost concentration with mom made ginger tea in one hand. It is still pretty dark outside, but the street lights have been shut off. And I wonder how hard these delivery men work just so that people like me and my kind stay educated. I also wonder, if they really know what they are delivering. Sometimes it is a sad world out there that they bring to my dad’s hands every morning.

And then there are some smells which you can never smell in any other part of the world, me thinks. It is the smell of morning dew. It immediately takes me back to my school days. I used to get up at sharp 5-45 AM to catch the 6-30 bus to school. Of course we did not have mobile phone alarms in those days. My dad would wake me up. And the way he used to do it, every other child in every other home in our community would be up! Because I am sure he must have been in military some lifetime and he has still retained his voice! But now my dad has gone quite. He does not have to wake up anyone. The voice is still there, but all the kids have now grown up. No one needs to catch the 6-30 bus anymore.

Soon enough the honking of milkman and auto rickshaws becomes louder. You know, honking is not a bad thing in India. It is just a means of making your presence felt in this vast ocean of humanity. And sometimes it works as an alarm too!

It is time for me to make a fresh brew of tea. Dad and I will have it – he will read the main newspaper and I will skim through the supplements. The world is normal again, if only for another 15 days!

CWG 2010 - Hum to aise hain Bhaiyya!

We Indians thrive on masala. Spice is in our DNA and drama Ekta Kapoor style is our staple diet. Nothing proves this cliché like the recently concluded XIX Common Wealth Games.

It really was a representation of quintessential Indian way of things. First we take up a grand ambitious project in hand – a sport event which, in all honesty, not many care about. The rampant corruption which is trademark of Indian bureaucratic politics and red tape becomes the star of the show with Mr. Kalmadi playing the part to a T. And since it is a sport event, we need to have an anthem, right? So we give the job to Mr. A. R Rahman, just the right person to do it,  one would imagine. And Rahman "sir" comes up with a sorry excuse for a CWG anthem with stale lyrics (India bula liya – what kind of Hindi is that!). Like we all know, no Indian drama is complete without divine intervention. This drama had the great Indian monsoon doing that bit, only this time instead of helping, it created further chaos. The Indian Army comes to the rescue for doing a thankless job. After all isn’t protecting Desh ki aan what the high defense budget for? The games start in grand style, thanks to trusted veterans Mr Shyam Benegal, Mr. Javed Akhtar and Mr. Prasoon Joshi. That is not a surprise at all because we, as a nation, are better artists than sportspersons. Delhi gets a makeover like an Indian bride inaccessible to the very people dear to her – the aam aadmi of the city. A Rs. 40 crore big helium balloon flies high for one day. Kind of stuff, fat Indian weddings are known for! We are the emotional, sentimental people. And DD commentary does not fail us dishing out crap like “Khiladiyon ko zindagi ki hassi mil gayi”! The closing ceremony was a collective sigh of relief with lame Bollywood performances and lamer “thank-God-the-games-are-over” kind of vote of thanks!

And in the middle of all this drama, the Indian athletes hit hard and run harder, without complaining and without cribbing. In an atmosphere where they get treated like this, they play for samman, pride, for there are no monetary rewards, hardly any fame, just a medal for which they sweat day in and day out. While the standard of competition in CWG is not something to swear by, Indian sport still tries to breathe for life, in spite of everything our nation of a billion does to bring it down.

Whether or not any good CWG 2010 has done for athletic sports in India remains to be seen. Indian athletics will face sterner competition in Asian Games this November where traditionally, we have not had many reasons to cheer. It would give a better assessment, or honest insight, of where we stand in face of genuine competition. But I sincerely hope there are more who take up sports as a career and not a means to a career in Railways and sport quota government jobs. And I hope we see more frequent display of determination, grit, encouragement and support like this in the coming times!

And against all odds I hope that the corrupt get punished! Maybe that is too much to ask for, for if that happens, would we still be what we are – all forgiving Indians?

Happy Birthday!!

Queen of subtle gestures, have a very happy birthday!! :-)

My new fascination I will be writing something about pretty soon..Till then, keep wondering!! :-)

Tum Chale Jaoge Tab Sochenge..

Tum chale jaoge to sochenge,

Humne kya khoya humne kya paaya,

Zindagi dhoop, tum ghana saaya..

(When you will be gone, I will think what I actually lost and what I gained in our relation, for life is so tough out there and you are like the gentle shade in harsh sun..)

These eternal lines are my exact thoughts as I look back at the last couple of years and the transition in the last couple of months. 

If you have been regular and attentive on this blog, you would know that it was exactly a couple of years back when I moved to US for work. While it was something I was looking forward to, the timing of it was particularly bad. I did not want to travel when I did. It was with a very heavy heart that I came to US. I lost a very special, loved one to cancer the day I was travelling and the worst part was that I could not release that pain with all the travel and relocation I had to do. It was only after a while I could feel the sharp pain and see the enormity of the loss. It was very tough. 

What was not tough, though, was life here in the US. It was not just about the comforts of being in a “first” world country (ahem, the last place to have sunrise and a first world country!), with first class comforts! Honestly, I did not have my comforts until 6 months of my arrival for that is when I got my car!! For those of you new to this place or planning to come, know that Car = comfort in US. So, no not just the comforts of a posh apartment with high speed internet and joys of online shopping! It was about the place I was in – Dallas. Dallas, the big D, the home of Mavericks and Cowboys where I met some amazing people and spent some wonderful times who made life so interesting. 

One of the first impressions I had of the city was “What the ****!” Now don’t get me wrong! It was not my fault really. You see, I thought I was travelling to the United States of America. I thought I was travelling to a very cold country inhabited by people of diverse ethnicities – Caucasians, Blacks, Europeans, and Mexicans etc. To my utter surprise all I could see were Indians – dark Indians, fair Indians, Bengali Indians, Maharashtra Indians, South Indian Indians, North Indian Indians, Indians in suits and sarees and Indians in kurtas and pajamas! And the first place Veethi and Vipul took me to in Dallas was the Hindu temple and Taj Chaat House and I must say the sambhar of TCH is quite authentic which I thought was not the case in  Indore or Pune. The other shocker was Dallas weather. I mean I knew I was travelling in the summers but I did not expect myself to be sweating! It was almost like going back to my summer vacations in Bhopal when all I used to do was sleep, eat and sweat! I was pretty much doing the same here.

With my worries of pani puri and bhel puri taken care of, I could really focus on the other important stuff in life and life itself! And that is where all these wonderful people I mentioned earlier come! First up, the three “V”s – Veethi, Vipul and Viraj! Veethi is my best friend’s cousin and I had met her a few times in Indore. But that was like 4 years back! The fact that she still could recall my name was enough for me to tell her that I was going to stay at her place until I found a rental roof of my own.  That she was one gracious host is really an understatement. She is easily one of the sweetest persons you will ever meet always with a smile on her face and a heart big enough to laugh at my jokes! And Vipul, her husband, could easily become the captain of Indian cricket team! Not because he has maverick batting skills, but because he is cooler than Mr. MSD. The patience with which he goes about his days is something for all the men out there to learn. I have seen Viraj, their adorable son, from his day 1 on planet earth! And it has been an absolute joy seeing him grow 4 teeth, a broken vocabulary, loads of hair and some really funny habits. That he knows me as his mausi (Hindi word for mom’s sister) and DOES NOT know Varsha at all (:P :P :P) is one of the most beautiful feeling and is one of my best achievements ever! 

And then of course the wonderful AOL group. My days in Dallas were made special because of this super enthusiastic group of sweethearts! Ram, Kala, Pravin, Shree, Aravind, Keerti, Achutan, Hardik, Venkat, Karishma, Trupti, Anshul, Gurmeet, Namrata, Tarun, Jwala ji, Ganga ji, Tarkesh, Sudeep, Laxmi, Greeshmi, Deepak, Kamal and everyone else, you all have given me some wonderful memories, some amazing moments (and of course, some wonderful farewell gifts, gee) to treasure. Your presence meant so much. You all have knowingly/unknowingly contributed so much to my growth that my brother who thought that my mental growth stopped after I turned 21 last year has now started believing in miracles. Words fall flat if I try to tell you and any attempt to do so results in the farewell speech disaster that most of you had to bear! But know that you all have a very special place in my heart.

This was all a build up to the actual update. The thing is, I have been relocated to Kansas City for work. People tell me that it is going to get really cold here with snow! I keep telling them that I am looking forward to it but in reality I am not. That's all I got to say, in short but that will not make a juicy long post, will it? 

And since I am not sure when I am going to blog next, a happy Eid to everyone! With the speed with which I am going this year, I hope to get another post before Diwali.

You all have fun, take care and post a comment here! :-)

Ananda Shankar - An inspiration!

Howdy people! It has been a while since I wrote something. I just was too surprised with what I wrote last and wanted to give myself sufficient time to get out of the serious writing stuff! I am still recovering and so I am not going to write much today.

But I did stumble across this video on Ted - the story of Ananda Shankar. Guys, you gotta watch this one.

Her story reminded me of the many examples (a little too many really) from my own life where people have been fighting this horrible disease. Cancer does not hurt just one body. It shatters the lives of every life associated and things are never the same again.

Cancer needs to be eradicated. Please help in whatever way you can to fight this disease. Here are some links you may find useful.

Cancer Research Foundation of India

Cancer Research Foundation of America

In my prayers always, all the wonderful people affected by Cancer..

An evening

It was a long day at work. My body felt a little tired and the heart felt a little sad. I don't know why I was physically exhausted or what was the reason of my sadness. I did not want to think either because my mind was already cluttered with thoughts of the past. I went for a walk - a quiet walk by the river side. Only when you come close to the river you realize that water of the river isn't stagnant. It doesn't get contaminated by itself over a period of time. It is the strong current which flows day in and day out, taking everything along with it, dissolving all signs of existence with it. There is a lone duck swimming in the river, against the current. On the outside it looks calm and collected, but it sure is pedaling like hell just so that it can move a little bit upstream. It sees its own reflection in the water and wonders who is looking through the silver mirror. I could have been that duck. I think I am that lone duck.

I do not know where I belong to. Am I supposed to swim in the river? Am I supposed to be on this bank or am I supposed to be on the other side of the river? Why does it look like it would be a better life on the other side. Clueless and curious as I am, I decide to walk through the bridge. I see a young man walking down the same bridge with a big bag in his hand. He is coming from the other side and I wonder what makes him cross the bridge. Once I reach the other end, I realize that I had no business here. I do not belong to this bank. And I make the journey back to where I came from. And for some reason I think that I could have been the young man with the big bag. I think I am the young man with the big bag. 

This time the road to nowhere looks so familiar. I walk through the gardens and cross the trees. There is a small lonely house that looks completely out of place. The hustle bustle of the small town seem to have somehow missed ruining the serenity of this house. There are bigger monuments around this humble dwelling and I wonder who could be living there. It was very easy to even ignore its presence. As I am about to move further, I see someone coming out of the door. He looks contended. I could have been that house which could even be a home. I think I am that house - a stranger's home. 

I move down further and see the downtown. I cannot place the spices but they smell too familiar. They take me back to a time where I did not have to worry about feeding myself. But then, I wanted to get away to earn my own meals. And now when the world thinks I am capable enough, I want to go back to the old times when I did not have to worry about anything. There always was a familiar face and a pair of hands which made sure that I never slept hungry. I could have been hungry today just like those old days. I think I am hungry, just like those good old days. 

And then I hear the sounds of music at a distance. The sounds are inviting and I cannot but try to find where they are coming from. I see a small group of musicians playing their own instruments. They do not seem to know what the next note is supposed to be but by some miracle they are in perfect symphony. I see the young man I saw at the bridge with a cello. He looks at me too and we share a smile - a smile of understanding. And as I sit and close my eyes, I wonder who am I. I could have been the notes from this symphony. I think I am the music from this symphony. 

I have been a loner all my life. I think I will always be one. My life has not been about how hard I could swim or the journeys I could make from one shore to another. My life also has not been about being self sufficient or being someone's love. I don't think I have been any of it or that I would ever be. I am the music, the one single piece of melody coming out of all the instruments there are. I am the music which could not play at any other rhythm nor the music that could ever stagnate. I am the music whose notes flow higher and higher and higher..Until they can no longer be heard. 

I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. She said it was about time. It was time to go home. 

I nodded in agreement. 

Programming songs..

Sahiban, meherban, kadradan (and all types of other daans..)! Aap sabko Anusha ka pyar bhara salaam!!

I am not one of those bloggers who like to post forwarded messages often. Though I agree it would be such a better world if I did not torture you guys with originals. But sometimes, you get something in your inbox which is such nonsense that you cannot but smile reading those. I got one today and I must admit it must be an old one. But I loved it so much (because it was such nonsense) that I could not resist posting it. It was forwarded by a dear friend - Vishal Bahirwani. Those of you who are not privileged enough to know this mahaan hasti must skim through the comments in my blog. You would find an anonymous dude who writes 'kya' as 'kia' ,  calls me 'velli' and that my friends, is Vishal (honestly, I can write a whole post on him. But that's for some other time!).

All you programmers out there, I am sure you would love this stuff. This is a small tribute to all the hard work you guys pretend to do in front of your managers! :-)

1.Two Recursive functions calling each other

Mujhe kuchh kehna hein

mujhe bhi kuchh kehna hein

pehle tum, pehle tum

2. The debugger

Jab koi baat bigad jaye

Jab koi mushkil pad jaye

Tum dena saath mera hamnawaz

3. COM programming in VC++

Roop tera mastana

Pyar mera deewana

Bhool kahin hum se na ho jaye

4. From VC++ to VB

Yeh haseen vaadiyan

Yeh khula asmaan

Aa gaye hum kahan

5. Untrackable bug --

aye ajnabi, tu bhi kabhi,

awaaz de kahin se

6. Unexpected bug (esp. during presentation to client) --

Ye kya hua, Kaise hua, Kab hua, Kyon hua

7. And then to the client --

Jab hua, Tab hua, O chhodo, ye na socho

8. Load Balancing

Saathi haath badhana

ek akela thak jayega

mil kar bojh uthana

9. Modem - talk on a busy connection

suno - kaho,

kaha - suna,

kuch huwa kya?

Abhee to nahin...

kuch bi nahin

10. Windows getting open sourced

Parde mein rahne do

parda na uthao

parda jo uth gaya to bhed khul jayeha

allah meri tauba, allah meri tauba

11. Local variable

Mein pal do pal ka shayar hoon,

pal do pal meri kahani hai,

pal do pal meri hastihai...

12. Global variable

Main har ik pal ka shayar hoon

har ik pal meri kahani hai

har ik pal meri hasti hai ...

13. Null pointers

Mera jeevan kora kagaz kora hi reh gaya.

14. Dangling pointers

Maut bhi aati nahi jaan bhi jati nahin.

15. GOTO

Ajeeb dastan hai yeh

Kahan shuru kahan khatam

Ye manzilen hain kaun si

Na woh samajh sake na hum

Hi hi hi.. loved it! loved it! :-)

Three cheers for Vishu!! :-)