So it is here.

Well, almost here.

No hour-long breakfasts.
No post-lunch shopping and anjeer shakes at Big B.
No krishna dhabha on fridays and no more gossips on you-know-who.
No dowry-comparisons.
No foosball and no double horlicks or maggi at 5.

No sunday nights at the juice junction. No KV.
No more "buy 3 - get 5"s and  "flat 60% off"s and group-shoppings. No Marathahalli.
No Pilani vs Goa cricket matches and no more weekend TT.
No 405 vs 407 bullshit and no more BABIG crap.
No AOM or WOW.
No night treks and no more long walks.
No purple hazes and no more idling at the corner house.

No more Bangalore.

I convinced myself that this was necessary. For my career, I told myself. The right step to get into a good b-school, huh? It better be.

Because "change" is here. And it is being a real b****.

Miss me Bangalore. For I will miss you. More than you could imagine. For all that you have given me.

The Cup of Woes: Part 3

This is the last of the 3 part story. You can refresh your memory with Part 1 and Part 2

He sat there, rolling the pearls in his palms. He could not come to terms with the reality of it. He had never believed in supernatural things. He used to laugh away all those stories about ghosts, miracles, etc., that seemed to have excited all his friends during his childhood. He always prided himself on being a sound and rational person. Until now, at least. Who had sent him the cup? If the pearls were indeed, real, why didn't the person who had sent him the cup keep it for himself? Is this a trick? Should he go to the police? What would he tell them - would anyone even believe him? No, he did not want to get dragged into any kind of investigation at the moment. He cannot let Swetha and the baby go through all the trouble. Should he just throw them away and forget the whole thing?

He looked at the clock. It was 4.30 in the morning. He felt very exhausted. Quietly, he placed the pearls in his bag and decided to worry about the whole thing later. He checked on the baby, kissed her gently and crawled into his bed. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow, he would test the pearls.

--

"Are you sure?" asked Sri, trying not to sound too irritating.
"Yes sir. Of course, I am. This is one of the finest pearls I have ever seen. This one would fetch at least ten thousand rupees. I am willing to give twelve thousand for it."

He had been hoping to hear that the pearl was a fake. A tricky imitation. But no. It wasn't meant to be. He had taken one of the pearls to a pawn broker to get it examined and apparently, it was real and quite valuable. He felt miserable. He knew that his conscience would kill him if he sold the pearls and used the money. It just did not feel right.

"Thanks but I am not looking to sell it right now. I will come again, later."
"Okay sir. If you say so. But trust me, I offered you the best possible deal. No one else would give you such an amount."
"I appreciate it. I will definitely come to you when I do want to sell it."

Lost in his own thoughts, he exited the shop and started walking back to his home. As he walked, he saw an old lady down the street. Her clothes were torn and she seemed to be feeling quite cold. She wore a pair of broken glasses and had a stick to support her. There was a cloth on the road in front of her and there were several coins on it. As he got closer to her, he could see that she was saying something. He could not understand most of it but he thought she was narrating to an invisible audience, her story. People kept walking past her, ignoring her like they ignore hundreds of other beggars in the city. They can only donate so much. They are not gods, are they? They would help the beggars, if they had a lot of money, wouldn't they? They...

He raced back to the pawn shop.
"What sir? You did not get a better deal, did you?"
"Please take it and give me the money."
"Okay. Here it is. Remember sir, No one will give you a.."
"Yeah, right. Thanks."

Sri walked up to the old lady and quietly kneeled down beside her. She looked at him, seemingly happy that she found some one to listen to her story and started talking animatedly. He smiled at her gently, took out the money and placed it in her hands. The lady did not seem to understand what happened. She stopped smiling and started examining the money. She was engrossed in counting it when Sri got up quietly and left.

It felt good. Really good. And suddenly, it all seemed to fit in. How could he have missed it? He was "given" the cup. He was "chosen". This is what he needs to do. Whenever he is unhappy, he just needs to cry into the cup, take out the pearls and give them to the needy. And then he would feel happy about it. What a wonderful plan! Something good coming out of every misery! Unbelievable. And so simple. He smiled. And then laughed. Laughed hard. It has been a while since he laughed. And then he cried. Into the cup.

--

That was just the beginning. Srikar started to believe that he needed to, and could, change the world. Every time he saw someone in need, someone in poverty, someone who could use money, he would go home and try to remember Sudheer. And then he would cry.

"Please don't do this Sri! Don't do this to yourself!", Swetha kept begging him. She knew. He had told her. She cried. And then he did, looking at her. Into the cup.

Every night, before going to bed, he would go to his daughter's room. She would smile at him. How beautiful that smile was! All his pain would vanish. He knew he would do anything for her. For her smile.
 He would sit there for a while holding her tight, in his arms, and letting her innocence and warmth fill him with the strength to go on. "Anything", he would tell himself. "Anything for her".

It was not easy. He was human, after all. As time passed by, he found it impossible to cry by thinking about Sudheer. He needed something more fresh. More painful at the moment. He would read about every tragic news that he came across, watch every sad movie he could and them imagine himself in the situation and feel the pain. How could he not? He knew very well how it felt to lose someone very close. And if he could convert that pain into something useful for someone so that they wouldn't have to go through it, how could he not try? He never gave up. He tried. He tried hard. And cried.

--

3 years passed by. Srikar could not cry anymore. In fact, he felt no emotion at all. He would stare blankly at the cup all day long. He was just a machine now. The only sign of any remaining emotion he would ever show was seen when he was with his daughter. He would smile. Just a slight smile. That's all. He would hold her, listen to her chattering and just smile. Swetha just had to come to terms with it - the cup had cost him her husband.

--

"What! But she is just a kid".
"Calm down Swetha. This is a 1-in-a-million case. I am very sorry but she has to undergo surgery immediately."
"Is it very expensive, doctor?"
"It will cost you fifty lakhs, at the least."

Swetha could not believe it. Why them? After all Srikar had done for the people around him, after all they had been through, was this the way god chose to "bless" them? Is a chronic heart problem for their beloved daughter a reward for losing the happiness in their lives to help the people around him?

--

She could not take the pain of the irony. She went home and sat beside Srikar. He did not look at her. She told him about their daughter's problem. She waited for him to react. Somewhere down her heart, she hoped that he would cry. For the first time, she wanted him to cry. To save their daughter. But he did not seem to comprehend the seriousness, the pain, the desperation in her voice. He just kept staring at the cup which was lying on the table in front of him. She sighed, kissed him and left. She would have to find another way to arrange the money.

3 days passed by and she could only arrange about one-tenth of what was needed. Srikar, stopped smiling. Not even when he was with his daughter. So he knows, she thought. May be there is a way.

That night, she slipped the letter she had written into his hand, kissed him on the forehead and went away. For good. From this world.

Srikar woke up, the next morning to find the letter in his hands.

"I am going to see the God, Sri. To understand his wicked sense of humor. I know you love me and our daughter more than anything else in the world. This was the only way I could think of.

Save her Sri. I love you."

Sri stared at those words for a long time. And then he wept. He wailed. And howled in pain.

--

"How is she, doctor?"
"She is doing good. She is out of danger now. You may go in and see her."

Two days later, Sri walked back into his home with his daughter in his arms. He went in, tucked his daughter in her bed, and went to his room. The room felt very empty without Swetha. Slowly, he opened his closet and retrieved the cup. The cup of woes. It looked exactly the same. He thought about the day he received the cup - when he first held it in his hands in the coffee shop and dismissed it as a prank. A joke, he had thought. A joke that cost him his wife. And his life.

He turned around and smashed the cup against the wall. It broke, streaming the room with shards of ceramic. He did not look at them. Calmly, he walked to his daughter's room. He picked her up, collected the bags he had packed earlier and left the house without glancing back.

Toastmasters' Speech 2: Communist Democracy - A Dream

After I gave the speech today, I realized one thing - the writer in me is a lot better than the public speaker in me. I wonder if I should have chosen a lighter topic - something that did not make me refer to my notes constantly. Sigh! That's the way you learn, I guess. Nevertheless, here is the essay - 

“At 20, if you are not a communist, you don’t have a heart. At 50 if you are still one, you don’t have a brain” - so goes a saying. Let me try and present to you, the wisdom that goes behind this quote by talking about one of the most fascinating forms of government present today!

China, the fastest growing economy today, is also the largest communist nation in the world. Do you think its a coincidence? Everyone today talks about that country. It portrays itself as one of the most envious nations today - the place to be in the 21st century. I have read many articles about how the Chinese government did something proactively, because of which its economy was able to grow a lot. On almost all those occasions, I wished that the Indian government did something like that too - I wished that it would stop worrying about retaining power and start doing something to boost the economy so that I too could be proud like the Chinese seemed to be. For example, China has a one-child policy where people who have more than one child are subjected to extra tax by the government. I thought it was a brilliant policy to control population explosion and I wished that we had something similar here in India. As I realized later, I was only looking at the brighter side of such a system and ignoring the darker and murkier side of it.

For a long time, I could not really understand what Communism is all about? Finally, one simple sentence demystified it for me -  “Communism is a form of government in which all people are considered equal”. In theory, such a society strives for equal sharing of all work, according to ability, and all benefits, according to need. In fact, it is democracy in its purest form - there is no central government. All major decisions would be taken by the society as a whole.

In a communist government, the community, or, in other words, the government, owns the major “resources” and “the means of production”. The goal of such a system is to prevent any one person or group of people from becoming rich, while others are extremely poor. The system attempts to eliminate the rich-poor divide that is usually rampant in a democracy.

Isn’t it very appealing? Doesn’t it sound too good to be true? That is exactly what communism is! It is too good to be true. It is too good to be “practical”. It is a system designed for a perfect world, where everyone is an idealist. We are not in a perfect world, are we?

In communism, the power is vested in a group of people who decide the course of action. It is this group of people who decide on the activities of the public and this is where, I think,  communism fails in practise. They hold elections, but all candidates must belong to the one ruling party - thus the electorate really has no choice. Anyone who dares to speak out against them is subject to persecution, imprisonment, and/or execution. The people do not have a voice - there is no transparency in the doings of the government - entrepreneurship does not flourish - ironically, it degenerates into a form of dictatorship. The system which has its core belief in making sure that all the people are equal ends up in making all the people “equally powerless” except for those in power.

The government controlling the businesses means you cannot have a private sector at all. So it is not okay for anyone to be a shrewed business genius or a hard worker and make a lot of money. Imagine not being allowed to work over time in your office to earn some extra money and pay off your bills. Imagine having a world changing idea and having to give it up just because your government does not “want” you to change the world. Imagine the government controlling what search engine you can use on your computers and even what words you are allowed to use in your search queries.

I could not. I could not imagine living in such an environment. That was when I realized the power of democracy. That was when I realized the power of having the right to choose your own leader. That was when I realized the power of having the right to speech. If I make the same speech in a Toastmasters’ club in China, I am pretty sure that I will be put behind the bars.

I agree that democracy too has its own pitfalls. There can be no clear superior form of government. But, when it comes to choosing between living in a system that promises you the best economic figures and a system that guarantees that you will not be forced to do something against your will, I think, I will go for the latter.

Humans have come a long way in finding newer and more reliable ways of improving the quality of life over time. I hope a new system of “Communist Democracy” will arise in the future - one that combines the spirit and essence of communism and the flexibility and openness of democracy - one where my children - our children - can live happily.

Thank You.

Beyond the piggy-bank

So, when Booba came back from Nigeria, everyone asked him how much he had managed to save during his 3 months there. After all, people make a lot of money when they go abroad, don't they? His reply surprised us a little. He told us that he had not made a single penny and in fact, he thought he ended up spending a lot from his own pocket.

Apparently, there is a big difference in the policy that governed his company (and mine, of course) and other Indian service-based companies. Here, we are not given any extra salary on a per day basis when we are sent abroad. In fact, no cash ever reaches our accounts as an allowance. You can only claim what you spend. Of course, you do not need to spend out of your own pockets - they give you a corporate credit card which you are expected to use for all the allowed expenditure. You save the receipts and you submit them for verification and then the company shall pay the credit card company, leaving you with little scope for any means you might devise to save some money for yourself. We cribbed a lot about it and complained about how unfair it was. We cursed our fate and slept thinking how cool it would be to go to the US, save a few thousands of dollars and come back home and spend them happily - after multiplying them with 47.

I have heard a lot of such "success" stories - about how so-and-so went to the US for 6 months, managed his/her food and other expenses with a mere 20$ a day, saved the reminder and returned home proudly. The other day, I was having dinner with one of my colleagues. We went to an expensive restaurant that served Mexican food - only because our expenses were taken care of. Our dinner there alone cost us 32.5$, each. Over the dinner he told me about how he had been to the US before, sent by his previous employer, and how he used to eat only Maggi (brought from India - cheaper) for most of his meals to maximize his savings and how all his friends did the same (if not Maggi, something else). And then, it dawned upon me. The simplicity of the realization was so amazing - it just left me smiling.

By giving us a corporate card and reimbursing our expenses, we are convinced to just have a good time! When people realize that they can't save this way, in a bid to make the most of it, they start spending well. They stay in comfortable hotels, have great food, go to nice places and on the whole, have fun! They are liberated from the burden of 'trying to save' and they do not feel guilty about 'trying to enjoy' and i think, that in itself is something every one of us deserves. I agree that many people have the need to save - responsibilities and all that. No offense intended at them for doing it. But, I think, if we have an opportunity to save, we succeed in finding a justification for it or do it anyway just because we are "supposed" to - its in our blood - we are Indian, and more importantly, human - it is natural.

All I am saying (mostly to myself and of course to all those people who might be thinking like I and Booba did) is, it is okay to have a good time for once. It is okay to spend. It is okay to not "save" - especially when you can't! I probably won't be any richer when I go back. I may have, in fact, spent a couple of thousands from my own pocket. But, if a few thousands of rupees is what it takes to go to the US and have a great time, I think I am okay with it. I think I am more than okay with it!

Interesting Conversations: Episode 1 - The Arrangement

The scene: I just sat at the counter at the local Irish pub after a long day of shopping at the Mall of America. I was feeling very tired and just wanted to grab a quick bite and go back to my room. I ordered a bowl of soup and was waiting for it when a party of 3 people - an elderly couple and a young woman came in and sat beside me.

The lady: Hi there.

Me: Hello.

The lady: So whats up? What are you doing?

Me: Me? Im waiting for my soup.

The lady (leaning towards me a lot): Soup? What soup are you having?

Me: Split pea and pork.

The lady: Ooo. That is nice. I am leaning because I can't hear properly. I am an old lady, you know?

Me: Haha. That's alright.

Blah blah..went on for a while where the lady told me that she was visiting Minneapolis - she was from LA - grew up near the beach - her husband was a Minnesotan - they were in the town to catch the game (its the football and baseball season, btw).

The lady: How long have you been here?

Me: About a week. I will be here for 2 more weeks.

The lady: So, how do you like Minnesota/America?

Me: Its a really nice place. I like it.

The lady: So, what are you here for?

Me: Well, I work for Oracle, a software company (yeah, I had to tell the people outside work a lot here. Not a lot of people know/bother about the software companies). I came from India. I was sent on work.

The lady: Oh. Then you must be a smart guy. < turning to her husband > He works for Oracle, a software company. He is a smart guy. < the husband nodded his head in agreement >

Me: Haha. I hope so.

Blah blah..She told me about this woman she met when they were in South Africa - how she was full of life and hospitable - how she bought a sari from her - how colorful her shop had been - how the entire experience was unforgettable and a dear part of her life and so on. She went out to talk to someone else and the husband and I struck a conversation.

The husband: So you are from India, huh?

Me: Yeah.

The husband: I guess, you don't like the Pakistanis then.

Me: Haha. I haven't got anything personal against them but yeah, the two countries are kinda rivaled.

The husband: Yeah. I don't like them either. But if you guys go to war against them, I think the Chinese will go to war with you to support Pakistan.

Me: Yeah. That's what everyone says. In fact, India has got a lot of troublesome neighbors.

The husband: Yeah. But I'm with you guys.

Me: Haha. May be we will call for your help then.

The husband: Haha. Yeah. I don't really like the Muslims. You must be a Hindu, right?

Me: Yes.

The husband: Yeah. I've got no problem against the Hindus. < the lady came back > I was just telling him about the whole Muslim thing.

The lady: Yeah. We don't really like the Muslims. We've got nothing against them but we don't really like them.

Me: Hmm.  < the lady went away again. She was kinda dancing to the music >

The husband: I like Gandhi. He was a good man.

Earlier today, when I was shopping, the guy at the counter saw some Indian currency in my wallet when I took it out to make the payment. He was so excited and asked me if he could see one of the notes and I gave him. He recognized Gandhi and kept fondling the note. I had a 10 rupee note in my wallet and I gave it to him and told him that he could keep it if he wanted. He was really excited and happy and thanked me like a hundred times. I was reminded of this incident when the husband talked about Gandhi and I took out my wallet to show them a hundred rupee note.

The husband: Woah! Is that Indian Curreny? Awesome! < he called his wife > Check it out. He has some Indian currency and there's Gandhi on them.

The lady: Really? Wow. How much is it worth? Like 20 bucks?

Me: Nah. Less than 2.5 dollars.

The husband: No way!

The daughter: Daddy, give him 20 dollars. Lets keep this.

The lady: Yeah. Give him.

Me: No no. I can't take 20 dollars from you.

The lady: Okay. Ten dollars at least then.

The daughter: Oh yes, you can. < she snatched my wallet - took a 10$ bill from her dad and put it in my wallet - gave it back >

Me: Oh, you guys! Well, let me give you one more then. At least take one more.

The husband: Thats great. Okay. I will have one more then.

So, I gave them one more. The lady was so happy - she told me that she would never forget me - she would frame that note in a glass box and keep it in her living room and finally she went back to dancing.

The husband: That was sweet of you. You are good kid. < to the others > He is a nice kid.

Me: Haha. Thank you. I hope I am.

The husband: So how old are you?

Me: 23.

The husband: Is there the whole arranged marriage thing still in India?

Me: Haha. Yeah. Its more of a choice now.

The daughter: Marry me. Daddy, "arrange" my marriage with him.

Me: Haha. Are you younger to me?

The daughter: No. But how old do you think I am?

Me: Uhmm..25-26?

The daughter: F*** you!

The husband: Haha. You are right. She is 25.

The lady: Yeah. She likes to think that she is still 21. She feels bad that she is getting old.

Me: Haha. < to the daughter > If it helps, you don't look 25 though. You look a lot younger.

The daughter blew me a kiss and looked happy.

The husband: You are a really nice guy. Your parents raised you well.

Me: That, they did sir.

The husband: I like India. The food and then bolloywood.

Me: Haha. So you know about bollywood then.

The husband: Of course. I am into the movies. I work for MGM. We put movies on the planes.

Me: Oh. That's cool.

The husband: Yeah. Did you watch Inception?

Me: Of course. Opening week.

The husband: And Shutter Island?

Me: Yup. I watched that too.

The husband: Hmm.

And then we talk a bit about movies - about Aishwarya Rai - about India and Indian food in general -  Indian restaurants in the town and so on.

The husband: You are a really nice guy. If you don't mind me getting personal, how much do you make in your job? 50000 dollars a year?

Me: Converted to USD, its about 15000 dollars. May be a little more than that!

The husband: Really? That's all? < to the others > He makes less than 17000 dollars a year!

The daughter: Hire him. < to me >You will be a rich man now - my dad will hire you.

The lady: Honey, please hire him.

Me: Haha. In India, its a decent salary. Its more than what a lot of people make.

The husband: Hmm. Have you got a card with you?

Me: Oh. Let me see. Yep. I got one. The designation on it is old but everything else is valid.

The husband: At what time do you have to go to work tomorrow?

Me: 8 I guess.

The husband: Hmm. That's quite early. Here is card. I will send you an email or I will give you a call sometime.

Me: Okay. Thank you.

We were kinda done with our dinner and were getting ready to leave. I really enjoyed the whole conversation. We talked for more than an hour but it never got stale. I did not want to forget these warm people. I remembered that I had a camera with me and asked them if I could take a picture with them. They were more than happy to do it and we got a picture clicked. I was feeling a little awkward when we got close to pose.

The lady (sensing my dilemma): Yeah, we are going to have this pic taken in the American way. Put your arm around me.

The daughter: Yeah. Around me too.

Click!

Them: May be this meeting between us was "arranged" ;)

Me: May be.

We hugged and said goodbyes and then I left. They were, by far, the nicest people I have met in Minneapolis. Now I am not saying this because they might get back to me with an offer or something but its because I really mean it. I was having such a good time that I hung back for more than 50 minutes after finishing my soup. God bless them!

Travelog: A for America

"Are you okay there, honey?", asked the waitress. She was talking to me. I was kinda staring at a bunch of guys in business suits having drinks and watching the baseball game on the big TV - so I probably looked a little lost. Yeah, I was more than okay. I was just thinking about the world's most famous country - the food, the culture and the people and what a fantastic mix it all was.

I am reminded of a conversation (more of an argument, actually) I had with one of my aunts a few months ago. It was about the Americans in general. She had been living in the US for more than 20 years and she was in love with the country. She had embraced the whole American lifestyle long back and constantly vouched for the Americans. I had taken an opposing stand and we kept debating on which was a better country. She kept talking about how warm and helpful the Americans were while I was being pretty naive by pointing out the recession, the high divorce rate, the crime rate, the fast food, the obesity, the junk food and every other cliched negative thing I read about the country. I was being supported by the others in the room and she couldn't take the bombarding anymore. She just said, "You know what, you can say all you want but they are still some of the nicest people in the world. You need to be there to believe". How true!

The two words that came out of my mouth (and that I heard from other people's mouths) more than any of the other word in the past 3 days were "Thank you!". The politeness is infectious. A lot of people who are not used to it might get irritated by it over a period of time, but I am not one of them. Not yet, at least. A more narrow minded person might wonder if the person greeting you actually knew you from somewhere or if it is mockery or if she (or he) has a crush on you. You might think its all pretentious, but trust me its not. It might be simple customary courteousness which is no big deal for them, but it is genuine. We (people from the east) feel so pampered and respected. At least I did.

I really love the way they treat each other. For us, waiters are waiters and janitors are janitors. For them, the waiters, the janitors or anyone for that matter, are people. Ever wondered why its an American way to address everyone at work (including your boss and of course his boss) with their first name (and not "Sir") or why you are expected to tip around 15-20% on the bill amount? To me, its dignity of labor and professionalism in action.

We keep debating about the excessive consumerism of the Americans, but I think it is more of a choice. If they want to spend all their money and by doing so, live life king size, I don't think there is anything wrong with that. Its one life you got, after all and it is okay to have such an attitude. Saving and being conservative is something which we taught ourselves and I think it is wrong to judge the others on that basis. We have no reason to expect them to follow our philosophy. We are happy this way and they have the right to be happy that way.

Coming to the much talked prevalence of junk/fast food, I think we fail to realize ta=hat they have an equally large selection of the healthiest foods. A joint that serves burgers and fries also serves salads and soup. Percentages can be quite misleading. If one in every three Americans is obese (which gives us about 30% obesity rate), one of the other two is really really fit. In India, if one in every ten Indians is obese (which gives us only a 10% obesity rate), at least five of the others are fat/not fit/"on their way to being obese" and only one qualifies as being "really really fit". Oh, we have a lot of junk (if not "fast") food too. Its just in a less popular form - its not burgers and fries - its puris and samosas.

I agree that three days in one city and that too among a very niche crowd in downtown is not a great sample space to make all these impressions. The cynic in me mocks at the impressed me. Of course there is bad too. There are jerks among these people too, where are they not? All this rosiness is likely to wear off with time but this wonderful "first take" is worth cherishing. For a visitor like me, its always a far more defining experience as a lot of things which the Americans take for granted are not quite so back home. We kinda tend to have an ideological advantage, which, when combined with all these nice things here, can leave you feeling content and wise.

I wonder if I can enjoy an evening at a pub back home where most of the the bartenders and the waiters think it is cool to be rude and aloof. Like I said to one of my friends, "One is tempted to wish that you belonged here, but much remains to be seen yet."

Wake me up when September ends..

People keep congratulating you. You are provided with a big list of "things to buy" by your friends (which keeps getting longer and longer). Relatives call you up to check if you have packed everything. Your parents try and dig up long forgotten contacts and make sure you carry their phone numbers and addresses with you. Some shopping and a lot of packing.

This, precisely, is what happens when you are about to travel to the US for the first time - especially on a short trip. So I am about to travel abroad for the first time - 3 weeks in Minneapolis, Minnesota on a B1 visa. In about 84 hours from now, my flight shall take off from the Bangalore International Airport and in about 22 hours from then, I shall be setting my foot on the American soil (or concrete, may be). I might look very naive in making this sound like a big deal but I think it is a big deal if you want it to be and I want it to be.

It has always been my dream to go to the US. To go to the No. 1 country in the world. To go to the country that made movies like 'The Titanic', 'Pearl Harbor', 'The Lord of the Rings', 'Avatar' and 'Inception' (yes, I do realize that I am not actually going to Hollywood - just dramatizing). To the country that, allegedly, started the "recession". To the country that gives us most of our IT jobs. To the country that created GRE and GMAT and all that. To the country everyone around you seem to be traveling to or planning to travel to. And finally, I got a chance.

So let me live this dream I have been "incepted" (I still can't get over "Inception") with. Wake me up on the 1st of October when I would be flying back. Wake me up when September ends :)

Zzzzzz....

Feeling Green

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A not so happy feeling. It is not painful. But it is not pleasant too. Very uncomfortable. A feeling which we rather everyone else around us feels. It makes us wish we were not in that place, at that moment, experiencing that inexplicable sense of longing towards something which we know we cannot possibly have. It tends to bring out the devil lurking in our minds. It tempts us to abandon reasoning, to get back at it by urging us to take certain decisions not out of necessity but to implant this very feeling into the people around us. We do not want to experience that feeling ever again but we want everyone else to feel it. We want to know that they are feeling it and we want to, and probably will, feel happy about it. This, I think is a very sad paradox. Envy. It is sad that it had to be associated with a lovely color like green.

It is, in a way, like a bubble in the financial markets. There is no real happiness. There are only depictions of happiness, by some people. These depictions in turn, cause envy in other people. They in return, fueled by a deep desire to retaliate, portray stronger depictions of happiness. They try to satisfy themselves in doing this. They do it to get back at the others, even if they have to undergo some pain – even if they have to sacrifice some other real satisfaction or happiness. And the vicious cycle goes on, destroying whatever real happiness is actually present.

I see this quite predominant today. The culprit – social networking. Yes, social networking portals are like incubators of envy. We think someone is cool in doing something, be it witty status messages or colorful photographs which try to say that the people in the photographs are having a lot of “fun” or relationship updates with “hot” members of the opposite sex or achievements or something else. We burn (with envy). We want to be the objects of envy too. So we take a lot of pain to sound/look/feel cool. And then we wait, for a more challenging object of envy.

I probably sound like a senile cynic in blaming the social networking platforms for spreading envy but just think about it. At some point of time, everyone of us would probably have done something similar to what I have talked about here. May be not in such a dramatic way, but in more of a subtle and sub conscience driven manner. The point I am trying to make is – do not, at any cost, intentionally or unintentionally, be driven by the desire to feel happy by causing envy around you, and in the process, lose any little happiness you already have. Envy is a negative energy and nothing good shall come out of it.

So, think twice before you go on that trip you have been planning for a very long time, just to flood Facebook with pictures from the trip :P

A walk to remember

A hot Sunday afternoon back in Vijayawada.  Everyone at home was taking a siesta. Power cut. Not having anything to do, I decide to take a walk. It had been some time since I had gone around the house. In fact, I did not remember the last time I was in our backyard. Its high time, I decide and step out.

Fond memories started pouring back (minus the spiraling and music, though). The portico. The place where we used to hold a "skating" competition. Pour a lot of water on the smooth slab, take a run up to it and slide on your knees. The one to slide the maximum distance wins. Bruised knees, wet clothes and angry elders are just collateral. Cheering cousins and a chest swollen with pride upon winning are all that mattered. That was "skating", during which I broke a part of one of my teeth (yes, still visible).

A pic of my home I had taken sometime back.

The backyard. The legendary mango tree was no longer there. Being the fat kid I was, I could never climb up the mango tree to hide during hide-and-seek. I was terrified of that tree as it was always dark there and all my friends used to go hide on top of it. When it was my turn to seek, I would wait for them to get frustrated and come down the tree and then catch them ;)

The park opposite to my house. I had probably spent half of my childhood in Vijayawada (before I was sent to Vizag) in that park. The park to us, was a place to make money. Marbles, cricket, 7 stones, everything was played for a small bet. On my day, I would take 5 rupees in the morning and come back with 50 rupees. In the evening, I would throw a grand party of bhajjis and pakoras to the friends. It was from here, we broke 2 windows in my own home, often entering into a quarrel with my own granma (who used to drive my friends away when I had a fight with them, even when I was the culprit. Miss you granma. RIP.). Incidentally, the park is now named after her.

The park! No longer a cricket ground. It has been turned into a big garden with slides and swings now :(

Finally, the circuit! You see, I was always fat as a kid. My parents did everything to make me lose weight (quite unsuccessfully, though). During one such phase, I was supposed to do a 20-round brisk-walk on the road that went around our neighborhood. My grandpa would stand in the portico and count the rounds (to make sure that I did not cheat). When I complained that it was boring to do it alone, I was told to take one of my friends with me (the poor chap. He never forgave me for that). Bah! They though they had cornered me. They were not aware of a shortcut which effectively cut the total distance to less than half. Me and my poor friend would pretend to walk seriously while passing my house and when we were out of sight, take the shortcut, wait at the end of it for sometime (to avoid suspicion due to the ridiculously small "lap time"), chat and gloat over our brilliance and finally finish the lap when we thought enough time had passed to make my grandpa think that we had finished the lap. Muhahahahah (sly psychotic laugh)!!

Sigh! Call it cliched but I miss my childhood. I am glad I took the walk. To remember. Literally!