Pichle Saat Dinon Me

"meri laundry ka ek bill
ik aadhi padhi novel
ek ladki ka phone number
mere kaam ka ek paper
mere, taash se heart ka king
mera, ik chaandi ka ring
pichhle saat dinon mein maine khoya
kabhi khud pe hansa main,
aur
kabhi khud pe roya

present mili ek ghadi
pyaari thi mujhe badi
mary jane ka ek packet
meri denim ki jacket
do one-day match ke passes
mere naye naye sunglasses
pichhle saat dinon mein maine khoya
kabhi khud pe hansa main,
aur
kabhi khud pe roya

kaise, bhoolun, saatva jo din aaya
kisi ne, tumse, ik party mein milwaaya
kaisa, pal tha, jis pal maine tumko pehli baar dekha tha
hum jo mile pehli baar
maine jaanaa kya hai pyaar
maine hosh bhi khoya dil bhi khoya
kabhi khud pe hansa main,
aur
kabhi khud pe roya
maine pichhle saat dino mein
ye sab hai, khoya..."



Lyrics from the upcoming movie Rock on sung by Farhan Akhtar. The last seven days of my life were, in fact, quite similar to the situation described above. Thats why i related almost instantaneously to this song when i heard it. Not the actual merchandise, but i lost some big bucks, my peace of mind and my heart too...

The only difference??? Pichle saat dinon me maine ye sab hai khoya


lekin


bahut kuch hai paaya...

Random Ravings

I have lived the last seven days of life in small bursts. Akin to ripples in a pond formed as a result of a stone being thrown in, the ripples subsiding and a long wait for still another stone. While life was more or less stagnant, the ripples created quite a hulchul, maybe for a lifetime...

In between all those boring moments- another of those marriages where you are supposed to go, smile, say polite hi's, hellos and thank yous and where you aren't supposed to be enjoying unless you are dead drunk; visiting all those relatives of yours; listening to the non stop chatter of some of your aunts (waiting for a pause in the monologue to slip a word, if necessary, or just nodding your head while perusing a magazine), i discovered the ripples.

One of the ripples was in the form of a 3rd grade Quiz which I attended on my friend's insistence. My mind was already on the plans for the evening after the prelims (being quite sure that we won't qualify), i was surprised when the quizmaster called the Born Idiots to the stage (no points for guessing- that was our team name!). The next three hours were drawn long by that hopeless guy and I predictably, performing in ripples- giving a brilliant answer and confusing my partner for the next one. And we missed out on some big bucks too...

There were other little ripples too like the evening i got dead drunk and was quite unsteady returning home. That resulted in a conscious decision to try and decrease alcohol consumption (that means 'mere blog ka ab bhagwaan hi malik hai'. sometimes i used to write really good pieces when drunk). So, its 6 days and counting...

There were still other ripples that are too private to share on a public site but those ripples are the ones that will probably travel the furthest. How far, i don't know. i'll have to see. And wait.

I just read a great quotation somewhere "If you can't do great things, try doing small things in a great way". Well, i hope these ripples accumulate and cause some real benefit to my life...

PAPPU CAN'T DANCE. SO WHAT?

So what if Pappu can't dance??? Even I can't dance. And I guess there are a lot many people in this category who can't go through those eyecatching symmetrical movements of the limbs and the body.
Dance, for me, is an expression of the inner joy and exhiliration that I feel, deep down. I can't dance but I try to. Wait a minute! I guess I can and do dance. Only that doesn't come under what the world categorises as 'dance'. If I can simply jump around flailing my arms and enjoying myself (accompanied by music, if possible)and if I feel good and the people around me are feeling good, I won't hesitate and categorise it as dance.That means I have been dancing since my childhood through my college years (i won't forget those MRCs)to the present!!! The thing is to try and do what you can and enjoy it no matter what the world says or feels about it.
So, Pappu, my friend, don't let those mean guys get to you. Enjoy your life the way you enjoy best and dance in the manner you know.I am with you.:)

In Search of a Better Topic

Well, well, well. I am no Arnold Schwarzeneggar and I didn't make any promise about coming back, but here it is - I am back. Back into the big bad cyberworld from which i had to take a forced leave due to the inability of my service provider to keep me connected.And while i huffed and puffed here and there, applying for a new connection with a new company (this is Asom guys, in case u didn't know!- snails move faster here), shouted quite a few times at the supposed call centre executives, had a hard time figuring out the internet settings, the cyberworld had moved along. I felt so out of touch when i came back. My favourite sites were wearing a completely new look, most of my contacts had simply forgotten i was there and i was lost... A quote came back to me out of my past "Anyone who thinks himself indispensable should watch a finger in a bowl of water. When the finger is removed, the water fills the void that was created".

Now, with my aura of indispensibility dispersed, i thought of updating my neglected blog. I wonder if anyone reads all that crap i write (i seem to be mirroring someone, word for word!)except for some of my good friends who seem to go through them and post some ego-boosting comments. But it gives a release to the pent up feelings and emotions deep inside and afterwards i feel better.

Hell! I should probably have got drunk before starting. Its so difficult to express in fluid words what you want to say when you are sober. For that matter, I myself don't know what I am writing. A flight of ideas starts in my brain, reaches a certain point and then changes tracks altogether leaving me confused.

I search for a topic to write. What do I go for this time? Death??? Nah! Thats too depressing, though easier to write about as it brings all your depression and anguish to the fore. Love??? Hmm... Its beautiful but what else would a poor somebody write about something that has been covered from all improbable angles by some (sorry, most, if not all) literary giants? Loneliness??? Thats better felt than described. The political situation??? That always remains the same, only the players change; the only persons benefitting from politics are probably the politicians themselves. Book or movie reviews??? Thats interesting. But i haven't seen any new and interesting movie yet and have been revising some of my old classics- Lord of the Rings, O Jerusalem and now The Deathly Hallows- and these dont need any reviews.

What then? Nothing? Of all the wide array of matter in the world, i have nothing to write about? Well, glancing up at the length of this piece, i have written about something though. I am confused. Nothing? Something? ? ? ?

I'll let you guys decide...

Continued Social Education

11.10 AM

The Continued Medical Education program was scheduled to start at 10 AM sharp. We, the junior doctors, were asked (ordered would be the right word- though there was the carrot in the form of the promise of a lavish lunch afterwards) to the auditorium at the aforementioned time. We came, we saw and we waited. No conquests for us. No way!

A cellphone rings. A popular and melodious song fills the air. My head splits (i forgot to mention that i was having a headache). I can never understand this habit of people not silencing their cell phones at events such as this. Maybe it shows their importance in the social hierarchy. Whatever! I, at least, know that it is bad etiquette and in my mind's eye, this proves to me that I am yet to convert into one of those shamming imposters.

The function begins. Lamps are lighted and the inaugural speeches given. I am really surprised at the English of some of the speakers. Really pathetic! (though their command over their subject matter is impeccable, i must agree). And then wonder of wonders! Vote of thanks is given even before the program is actually started!!!

Well, tea is served. The presentations will start afterwards. Have to go now. Otherwise, I may end up with an empty cup. I have seen people coming to these educational programs just for the want of good food. (Maybe, I am one of them. I, at least, make sure that I see the program through). I sincerely believe that what is needed before we embark into these educational programmes is the need for a Continued Social Education program, so that the society doesn't forget the rules it made for itself.

Life, actually

I was pondering about various issues of life in my usual depressed state. The meaning of life, the meaning of our life and the purpose of our life when I came across this beautiful story told by my friend Ankur. I am reproducing it as well as I remember in the hope that it will help redefine our lives or help us keep to the right paths that we have chosen.

There used to be a gardener who used to carry water on two cans balanced on his shoulders to the royal gardens. One of the cans had a hole in it. After many years of service, the can asked the gardener (believe in it folks! it doesn't cost you anything to go through this post or the implications therein) 'Why do you keep using me for the purpose of taking water to the Royal Gardens knowing fully well that I have a hole in me?' The Gardener then didn't reply. He took the can of water to the paths they had travelled daily for all those months. On one side, there were beautiful flowers blooming all around while on the other, the land was arid and dry. The Gardener pointed this out to the can with the hole and it is said the can breathed a sigh of relief on knowing his importance in life to those he hadn't thought about.

It is the same with us human beings. Each act we undertake, every act of kindness that we indulge in results in happiness to a select few who, though unknown to us, pray everyday for us and thank God for our existence. It is like what my room-mate Mithu told me: Each person is born on this Earth for a purpose, whether we know it or not. I can only hope that my existence has brought a few of those smiles to some people, albeit a few in number...

Love, actually

It all started innocently enough. My little cousin sis sending me a msg about calculating your love for a particular person (in reality, just a tool for knowing the name of the crushes of the person you send the message to- she got some fabulous names though- Madhubala, Geeta Dutt and Deepika Padukone!!!). Well, it sort of sent me back into time- inside memories I thought were buried too deep to surface but which did surface...

A train journey, a blue bandanna and a pair of beautiful eyes that I'll never forget - to the day I die- those were my first recollections of her. Oh! They were beautiful- conveying a gamut of emotions: surprise, innocence, joy and sheer delight. And the red dress that she wore on the return journey is as vivid in my mind as if i saw it yesterday. The way she talked- that stupid way of arching the eyebrows, those little jokes of hers and the fondness for my singing(!!!). Oh! we lived in perilous times when the heart had trouble listening to what the mind says.

Time goes on. Things change. People change, or maybe, circumstances change. I thought I had changed too- that I had stopped loving her. How wrong I was! It all came out- not the name though- I was probably too conscious for that- in a drunken confession which I have no memory of ever confessing but which I seem to have confessed in front of a select few. I was in a depression for the next three days- knowing that I had missed an opportunity of a lifetime. There was no certainty of anything but I rue the day when I made the glorious mistake of deciding that what i felt wasn't what I wanted deep in my heart. There have been very few such occasions in my short life but it was an occasion of which i am sure now,too late, alas! that i was in love, actually.

Death and the Drunken Rhapsody

12.05 PM. 24-03-2008.

I met death today again. It came in the form of a lifeless young body of just 13 days. I was summoned to F ward with the words 'Doctor, a patient has expired.' Predictably, I was unable to work wonders with a lifeless young body, not even with the title of Dr. hanging around my neck helping in the endeavour. I was at a loss to explain to the parents. My Senior consultant came to the rescue. She explained the child's condition to the parents (in words they will probably never understand) and consoled them. She ended her consolations with the words OK. Goddammit! Nothing was OK. Nothing would be OK (though I don't doubt the sincerity of my senior nor the meaning of the words). What can be OK with a couple losing their first born to a disease they had never heard about??? What can be OK with death itself? Nothing...

I am forced to think. I think. What is life? What is death? What is the meaning of our existence? I can't find the answers nor I think I will be able to.

8.00 PM. same day.

I meet life in the form of a drunk young friend of mine (who, as a gesture of goodwill towards me, has brought some alcohol for me since I was on duty upto 8 PM). The first thing he does is to salute me (i must mention that he was terribly interested in joining the Indian Army, but was denied because of an extra thumb!) and proclaiming his love for me in his own manner. We listen to some romantic songs, some love songs and some rock songs. We dance, we laugh and we shout. The sorrows of the day are forgotten. What matters is now and the Drunken rhapsody we all are engaged in.

As i finish my dinner, and make my way towards my PC, i summarize my day. More importantly i compare the two extremes - one of death and one of life- albeit drunk. I am at a loss. As always. I cant put my feelings into words. Death and life in a single day- its too much for me, for anybody. I wish someone could solve it for me. I wish someone will.

MOBILE SAGA

It is an occasion for the hostel boarders to come together. Most of them are out in the steps, some in the common rooms and some in the corridors cursing loudly. One of the seniors is singing loudly in his deep baritone that is music to his ears only. Others gather around and begin a heated discussion.

The topic of discussion is the same: “What happened to the mobile network?”

Our story starts some two-three years ago when mobile phone companies started their services in the region. Earlier, owning a mobile phone was a privilege that was confined to a select few. As more companies arrived, the number of mobile phone users increased exponentially in direct proportion to the decrease in call rates and services.

The first casualty as a result of this boom was the hostel landline phone. No more tring-tring, only melodies of superhit songs. Our bridge of yesteryears to the outside world, our homes, our families and our girlfriends had fallen silent. No more shouts of “O ______ Dada, Phone ahise” rending throughout the hostel; no more of engrossed lovers who would have earlier been ready to live their whole day in front of the telephone. All of it became history when a landmark decision was reached in the monthly meeting: the landline phone would be cut off. The only legacy it left behind was the telephone bill which is kept as a national treasure for use in case of new mobile connections when it is desperately needed.

There is a saying in Hindi: ‘jahan chah, wahan raah’ – ‘where there is a will, there is a way’. Mobile phones paved the way for lovers to stay connected. At a given point of time, at least three to five persons would be in the hostel verandah and the garden occupying certain positions and moving around that particular place. This gave rise to a new word in hostel terminology – ‘Brownian Motion’ (inspired from the science textbooks). Thus, if a person is spending too much time on the phone while walking around in public view, he is said to be ‘Brownian di ase’.

My friend, who is an intern, is very happy. There is no way he can be traced when he has to attend his ward calls unless a person is sent for that specific purpose. The network ensures that he remains ‘out of range’ or ‘switched off’ even though he is within walking distance of the ward.

One of the mobile companies has launched such outrageously cheap schemes that people have grown spoilt while talking on the phone. One such scheme was the free scheme by Reliance. Reliance to Reliance free. This led to such a heavy congestion of Reliance users that calling a reliance number takes, on an average, half an hour. Add to that problems like inability to hear on one side, spontaneous cut-offs and a host of other problems. Yesterday, I received a rather funny message regarding this situation. “ Dhirubhai Ambani calls son Mukesh from heaven. ‘Beta, Reliance telecom kaisa chal raha hai?’ Mukesh replies ‘Sunai nahi de raha hai. Aap mere Airtel number me phone kijiye’”

On a serious note, though, mobile phones have changed the way we live – for better or worse- I don’t know. Its now the medium for asking about class schedules, for conversing with next door neighbours, for wooing girls (and maybe vice versa). Its something people cant live without. Its something…. Hey wait! Whats that shout of hurrah? Oh, the network is back. Well, gotta go now. May finish this piece when the network goes off again……

TEARS

Its been a long time since I cried. The last time I cried was probably 5 years ago when I cried due to some trivial reason. I cried today again. Why? I don’t know. But I did.

Maybe those were tears of disappointment or sorrow or maybe happiness, as people say. I don’t know. Because I can’t describe that feeling that came upon me. What I am conscious of, what I know is my lacrimal glands opening up their floodgates all of a sudden. Maybe I can guess the reason. Maybe I know, deep inside. I have been friendless for far too long. Nobody’s a friend. Nobody gives a damn for me, for what I feel and for what I am. Everyone is busy with their lives. My room-mate is busy talking to his girlfriend. Another of my study partners is out watching a movie with his girlfriend. There’s no one for me. Who gives a damn what I think? Who fucking cares for what I am, for what I feel? Fucking nobody.

And me? Trudging along, trying to sort out life. Nobody to look up to, nobody to consult.

Maybe I am being too selfish. No, I AM being selfish. Because others do have a life. Others do have work to do. They have their own lifestyle. They have got their beloved ones- boyfriend, girlfriend or others. Who has got time for a muddled up young fellow, who doesn’t know what he wants of life,who loves reading Harry Potter books rather than preparing for his pg entrance exams and likes to go quizzing to faraway places just for the heck of it (no, not the heck of it. The prize money is important!!!).

I am to blame for the situation I am in. No one else. I am in no position to blame anybody. But my tears? Who are they to blame? Well, they should come out once in a while, I say to myself, ignoring my inner self. And then, quite mechanically, I turn around and stretch my hand for the nearest book. Life will go on. Life has to go on. With me or without me.