Phone Book!!

 This is pure insanity and I don’t expect everyone to like this blog of mine. I had spent a lot of time on the subject mentioned below and so I thought why not spend half an hour to jot it down somewhere. It’s expressionless and I am not that good at words to convey my feelings exactly the way I need everyone else to know…

It’s been almost 5 years since I started using a cell phone. I still remember how my parents and friends opposed me for applying a BSNL sim card, the only service provider with affordable call rates during those days. With in almost 6 months, I changed the sim to Airtel as they came up with some good offers for students. Since then I have changed my number around 6 times. Even after I joined work, the call rates was a major concern as majority of my calls were STD. Guess this term no more exists just like the term Trunk Call vanished almost a decade back. If you ask a kid what STD stands for, he might say it’s Sexually Transmitted Disease. Thanks to the Mobile Tariff war!!

Anyways I am not going to discuss on the Tariff war or the 3G auctions which is a hot topic these days. Let people who are supposed to do that do it with style and passion!! Last week I changed my plan to some paisa per second plan and I stopped using the other number, which was used for my personal calls. As always the biggest task while changing the number is to update others about the change and then to copy your contacts to the new sim. Instead of copying it directly to the new sim, this time around I decided to sit down and do it manually reading it from the old sim and entering it in the new one. I decided to do it not because I had lots of free time, but just wanted to know all those silent, unwanted, dead and numb contacts who has been copied right from 2005. And to much of my astonishment, out of around 550+ contacts, around 200 were a clear “NUMB” lot. The rest were the usual people whom I am in touch, a few of my clients, a few common friends, other acquaintances and my relatives. I felt like straining the list again, but some how did not do it considering the man power involved it.

Going through the list was great fun. There was this guy who used to take my bike for service when I used to stay in Trichur, the sweeper at IMS,Cochin who used to share cigarettes during breaks, the bartender at a famous Bar in Cochin, the Constable at Trichur East Police station, the girls whom I had a crush on, automobile dealers and mechanics who participated in our show, the guy who installed net in my home, my dad’s colleagues’ daughter whom I used to give lots of career gyans but ended up marrying a fat NRI in spite of her dreams, unknown friends in the college, many girls whose names sound so sweet and hot now, but a majority whose numbers never existed anymore. These are the numbers I stored during my college days, a majority of them whom I  lost touch with , a minority whom I am still in touch and another few whom I don’t want to be in touch , but would like their contact numbers to be in my list. I am sure every one will have such a lot whom you will never contact but is very keen on having his/her name and contact details in your phone book.

Coming to the next level of list proved a little that I have matured over the years. Yes, numbers which I stored when I joined my first job in Chennai was completely different from what I had before. Even though all the people in my contacts managed themselves to screw into my new sim, the second lot of list was indeed interesting. The HR people in the firm, whom I was in touch with when I had to post pone my DOJ after I met with an accident just before  the joining date, the doctor who treated me and told that my lungs are perfectly black because of the home work I did for 4 years sitting in the cosy men’s hostel room, my new colleagues, new friends, cab drivers, the girl who happened to sit next to me in a bus journey, a friend whom I helped to run away with his girl, the man who gave me company at the Taj Fisher Man’s Cove making me sit and listen to his story till 4 am in ECR, the cop who helped me out with Tamil tips for squeezing out of police stations. Aaah, the list told me a lot of stories, of which many I still cherish and a few which I would like to forget.

The contacts I added at Hyderabad were almost like a reverse osmosis. It was more like my college days except for the fact I was working and earning a living. But from drug dealers to ICICI bank loan guy to the unknown friend who gave me his brand new Hyundai i10 to me for a test drive after having almost a litre of whisky, the new avatar who joined office to make my life at work even more miserable, the room boy at a village hotel in Orissa who narrated me about the Maoists Dacoits and how they loved to kidnap people like me, the auto driver with whom I travelled for almost 75kms through a non existent road somewhere near to Karnool in AP, to meet a cement baron with whom I had to get a payment, my flat mate who knew how exactly to loot his dad’s bank account, the guy who stayed next door who had a large photo of himself standing with Bal Thackeray at the door and how he insisted me to learn Marathi and join politics, the ambulance driver who took the dead body whom I was responsible for cremation etc etc.. Hyderabad has always amazed me, the city, the people, the isolation, the realisation and the experience I had over there.

Then was the last leg, Bangalore:The city with no Soul  . There were two reasons why I shifted to B’lore rather than to Amchi Mumbai as pre planned. The first reason being the proximity to another South Indian City whose name and the reason which I don’t want to specify and secondly to get rid off the great life and habits I gained at Hyderabad and to stay with people whom I know and to regain my lost life. The same had an impact on my list of contacts too. Though the regular list of culprits made their position clear, a majority was my new client list and other professional contacts and a few good friends whom I made over here. Of all the three legs, at least now I feel I am matured enough to celebrate my silver jubilee in this planet.

This might sound strange to many who are reading this. But, somehow I could recollect a life time’s story from my phone book. There might be many more who didn’t make it to the list and a few whom I didn’t mention but is still a major part of my life. The world is changing, the climate, so do people, priorities and my phone book!!! A group message and a group mail to everyone mentioning about my change of number  didn’t turn out to be that successful enough to wake up those dead contacts as it was the usual lot who reverted to that. And there were another lot of people whom I contacted only online and never wanted to take the risk of sharing their numbers. I hope everyone who has associated with me and my phone book is doing good without much of mischievous plans and getting into the never ending loop of the life’s vicious circle…

Terrorist Next Door

Kochi: Mohammed Irfan (name changed) came from his home town in north India all the way to Kerala after getting placed in an oil firm based in Kochi from a prestigious business school. Things were going at a good pace and everyone envied his career growth. Though Irfan was not at all comfortable with this place in the beginning, he became busy with work and made lots of friends at work and outside.  He was god fearing and helped all his acquaintances and shared a of good rapport with almost everyone he knew.

Then came the Mumbai blasts and like all his fellow citizens he too was a part of the mourning ceremony, discussions and all that followed. In the wee hours of 23^rd Dec Irfan was lifted from his flat in Panampilly Nagar by the Anti Terrorist Squad along with Kochi City Police on account of suspected link with jehadi terrorists who is trying for a foothold in Kerala. News spread like a fire all over the media, his parents back home were questioned and detained. Things never came Irfans’ way until he was send to Bangalore for brain mapping and other sophisticated crime detection methods. Finally Irfan was released of all his charges and was left free on 31^st Dec.

Then came the real torture for him. The first blow came when he was told to vacate the flat as soon as possible by the owner. That was just a beginning for 27 year old Irfan. He was suspended from his job on accounts of undisclosed reasons, his bank accounts came to scrutiny, he lost many of his friends and the worst part being recognized by each and every one in the public. People started looking at him with a suspicion and finally Irfan decided to leave the city. But back home, the scene awaiting him was not that different. For the first time even his parents and relatives too doubted his identity and Irfan had no other choice, but to succumb himself to death. In the wee hours of 26^th Jan ,Irfan Committed suicide at his house.

Things came to a lime light much after his death. He was doubted on grounds of his beard and the white cap he used to wear always, his frequent trips and his immense knowledge on the holy book. He was a good orator and spoke at many religious meetings. A few people doubted him and he had no other choice but death.

Irfan is not an isolated incident. Many more Irfans are being tortured all across the country in the name of counter terrorism. But is this the real way to fight terrorism? This is a question we must ask to each one of us. And is this the way of welcoming back someone to our society? It might be funny to say that it was a terrorist staying next door. But make sure before you conclude or stereo type something .Things have to change. Its impossible for the authorities to stop questioning suspects, its we the people who have to take it in the right spirit. Who knows your brother; son or father will be detained tomorrow for no particular reason!!!!!

Well, the above article is just a weird imagination of mine which cropped up after one of my friends who is still in college sought my help for a news report on a contemporary issue which our society is facing today. Almost a year back when I drafted this report, apart from the news paper reports, I had very less or no first hand idea of the state of Muslim youths in India. I really don’t know if she submitted this report or if it raised a few eyebrows in her department. And very sad indeed today when many of my own friends face such hard ships in the society, I am forced to scribble down something.

The immediate reason for such a topic was nothing but an incident which one of my close friends who is working with a leading IT firm in Bangalore narrated to me. I know him right from my college days and recently he got transferred to Bangalore for a project he is working in. Just like many other IT wallahs, he was unhappy with the job and we were discussing the various pros and cons of the industry he is into. In between he mentioned about the so called BOSS, who is a hard core Muslim with long beard and other features which resembled him to the poster boy of our times, Osama Bin Laden. Following a religion or growing beard is one’s own choice and we have the freedom to do it. But the fact here is that my friend, himself who is a Muslim feared him for some or other reason. Things have gone so worse for them that people have started looking at people with a beard with so much of suspicion that he is watched by numerous eyes while on the job or in public.

This is not an isolated incident which I have come across. Another friend of mine who is in Mumbai (I personally feel, it’s the worst city to live in for young, un married Muslim youths, after the 26/11 attacks, unless you are a celebrity) recently got promoted to a good post in a leading automobile manufacturing firm and he was looking out for a good apartment in the city. It was then the attack happened and the whole scene in the city changed. Since he was a bachelor and his name was looked upon with suspicion all around for the above mentioned reasons, he never got a flat in the locality he wanted. And the worst case was he moved out of the city to Navi Mumbai spending 4 hours a day in commuting to and from office in the local train. Thankfully, last month he got transferred to Pune, which is a much better place to live in, considering the fact that people in a particular city gets this strange hysteria only once they are struck with a terror attack. As a regular visitor to Mumbai, I feel the whole Mumbai Spirit as it is portrayed is just a spirit to survive, out of fear and compulsion. In fact it’s a thin delicate code of conduct that the Mumbaikars maintains so that everything goes without any chaos.

During my early days in Chennai, I used to stay with a bunch of colleagues who was from different parts of the country and a majority of them were Gujjus. Gujarat and Modi has always astonished me in some or other way and I was constantly in the process of getting more and more first hand information from them, who were born and brought up in Gujarat. Be it the saffronisation or industrialization of the state, I still feel the BJP Govt: has done it with style and perfection. Though Gujarat faced the country’s worst Govt: supported riot, many people have told me that the Muslims in Gujarat admired their CEO Modi and the Board of directors, as they mention. Till date, I never got an authentic source to talk on that and hence I restrict my words. Coming back to my flat mates, I often felt there is an unknown grudge within them towards the minority and there were many instances where I had to wind up the conversation on the same as many of my closest friends were Muslims and I really know about the religion much better than others in my shoes. No offences to my ex roomies, what so ever (Hope you guys wont read this!!) But I think the educational as well as the social system in Gujarat needs to be revamped for the good.

There are many more instances which I have seen and heard, but I am restricting myself as I don’t want to see myself detained on grounds of suspicion. A suggestion which I would like to put across is to see them as fellow beings and to treat them with equality. No body is a born terrorist and it’s never a crime to follow one’s religion. But the present social scenario in our cities is scary though nobody wants to discuss the same. It’s any day inspirational for a normal youth to turn to a terrorist. You can’t blame an youngster when he is denied food, shelter and job for unknown reasons and when he tries to disturb the system through violent means. Well, I am not a pro terrorist, but it hurts a lot to hear from people who cares and loves you that they can never enjoy what I can or a majority in this country can without any reason.

I feel these issues should be solved with in the limitations of the society and our system, before it engulfs the whole society. A good news which I recently heard from Mumbai is that every one irrespective of their religion should submit a prescribed list of identity proofs to the owner as well as the cops before they move in to an apartment. And if the owner denies the occupant for no particular reason, the authority has every right to sue him. Now, that sounds democratic and secular. Hats off to Mumbai police.

Jai Hind.

Close,Closer and Closest to the God All Mighty!

It was the first leg of my Holy trail and I was completely unprepared for this one as it came unexpected and much before the scheduled plan. I was slowly recovering from another tiring trip to “GOD’S on country’’ and was not in a position to push myself to Tirupati along with my colleagues. The moment I reached office and before I could park my vehicle in the basement, my boss gave his typical shout from his car, this time thankfully not for any sales figures, but for getting into the car.

Without a second thought, I got into the car as the whole scene happens every time our team goes out for lunch. By the time we reached the first signal, which is around 500 metres from our office I realised that we were on our way to Tirupati. After a hectic 6 hour drive, we were at Tirupati, the foot steps of Tirumala.

Our Hyderabad Branch had arranged for a recommendation letter from the CM’s office for the stay and other things over there. As planned, myself and one of my colleague drove up the hill in our car along with a local fellow while the rest of the team decided to walk the 9km stretch. Finally when I reached the Executive Officer’s (EO) office, I was a bit startled by the arrangements and the kind of “war of the words” happening there. In fact, I was feeling inferior as the rest of the people standing over there had recommendations from PM’s office, CJI etc. And for a moment, the so called EO looked like Hitler to me. Finally after almost an hour, I could squeeze in to his room and show the letter. The moment he saw it, he asked for the original copy which was at our Hyderabad branch. I was expecting a negative answer from him as there were many before me who went back with out any stay even with the so called recommendation from a VVIP.

But ultimately, it was our responsibility to arrange makhan to my teammates who will be arriving on top of the hill after a hectic climb. For me it was more of a Kapda, Khana & makhan issue as I was completely in my formals without anything to change. The local fellow who accompanied us tried his best through some of his contacts though everything was in vain. I was feeling more agitated seeing the whole issue as we could see lots of vacant cottages all around us and the way the whole place is commercialised and how badly the people with out any kind of recommendations were treated. Finally by around midnight, we managed to arrange 3 rooms in a Brahmin guest house, which again was just for 7 hours.

Things went on smoothly there after and a few dramas happened in between where I misplaced my wallet and blocked all my cards doubting if I lost it. But the funniest part of all was when the whole team shaved our head!!!!! Then there was the biggest shock of my lifetime, darsan according to your wallet power, which I never expected out of a holy place like Tirupati. Though I have heard people saying about this special darsan and all, seeing was always different from hearing. I felt really bad of the whole scene as many people were standing in the queue for long hours while people like me had a nice, easy and fast special darsan shelling out an extra 300 bucks. To be very frank I even thought of dropping the idea of having a darsan seeing the discrimination over there. End of the show was not that bad as the main deity was indeed special and rejuvenating. Hopefully things would change for the good for me and probably not for umpteen aam admi who don’t have an extra 50/300 bucks to shell out. Wish we could at least save our Gods, holy places and the rituals from the commercialisation, globalisation or whatever you call it.

I am not an atheist, but whatever it may be the reason, I don’t think it’s fair to discriminate people in a holy place like Tirupati, that too in a country like India where in religion is more of a mass hysteria than belief!!!!

My Daddy Strongest...

I still remember my kindergarten days when my dad used to take me for a long walk through Panampilly Nagar to my so called school. I often wondered why we often walk while the rest of my class mates came in their own car or an auto. I envied those kids who could buy cartons of Fudgy(its no more in the market) just to get those free GI JOE stickers. My list was endless just like any other kid in the block.But somehow somewhere I felt I lacked something in my life though I was never unhappy. There is a limit to which kids can think deeply and I was no different.

As my dad was a bank officer we kept on moving from one place to another every three years. New friends,new places and experiences kept my life moving. As I grew older, the feeling that I am not treated well as a single kid started eating my head more often.Something or the other issue always happened and my dad was never ready to give up on his stand. Things were worse once I became a teenager and there were days when I believed that I am just an adopted kid!!!!!

The issues were silly and my dad being a short tempered man always ended up in overpowering me with his words.I had no other choice,but to close my door and think of a different idea to somehow convince him and get my things done. When I say of issues,it was more or less related to buying something,be it the latest cycle or an electronic gadget. Though he never got me the things I really wanted,he somehow made sure that he gets at least something similar to that.

All those days I believed he was earning a good package and he was just being a miser saving for the so called future or my future as he said. It was after my 10 th, when he got transferred to a rural place in Malappuram district,he insisted me to go and stay in a boarding school in Cochin or Trichur. I was 16 and it was then when we had our first serious conversation about life and future. He told everything right from his salary,how he is planning to go about my studies and why he is sharing all that with me. Though I never took the conversation seriously at that point of time,I felt on top of the world because I strongly believed my mom has no idea about all this and he has started seeing me in a better position than mom!!!!!!

As a teenager, I was excited about the freedom that I was about to get and the fact that I am free from the clutches of my parents. I started getting regular pocket money every month and made the most out of the freedom they gave me. Two years passed by and I did nothing other than wasting almost his years' CTC with a pathetic result for my 12 th boards. It was then that I realised what kind of a person my dad is. He took me back home and that was one of the longest journey I ever had in my life. Facts and figures which he shared with me before joining kept churning up in my mind and I was feeling completely helpless. He spoke to me again,never mentioning anything about the past two years but asking me how to go about the future and what my plans are. Those were the moments when I hated me the most..

A year passed by in between and I was fortunate enough to get admission in a leading Govt: professional college making me feel proud of myself and everyone around me. During my admission,he told me a few words which I still remember.."I wont be coming back to to your college again.This is your world and you have grown up to decide on what to do and what not to''

As always,I was more curious of the life that's about to come and the abnormally unbelievable freedom that he has given me. College life never left me bored and I had a gala time well above my expectations. I bunked class,boozed,doped and what not,even had to stay in police custody.

It was then again I doubted if I am an adopted child as my dad never took an initiative to let me out of the police case I was into.All he said was "you are old enough to come out of whatever you are into and I am sure you will do it''

Many people still tell me that I am totally different from the ''single child'' that you come across. Though I hated my dad for various reasons in the past,now I know that I am what I am because of him. Now I know why I was taught life the harder way and why I was told to cross the road alone and go to the salon at the age of five!!! Now I know why he didn't support me the way I wanted in times of trouble and why he gave me the complete freedom once I started earning myself. I still wonder how he managed to build up a well settled family of three even though he was forced to take VRS at the age of 53 due to some physical ailments. I wonder how he still manage to walk in the night with his +12.5 powered spectacles. Probably its that will power to live against the will that i need to learn from him..

Now I can feel the difference in the way we talk and the kind of things we share. Recently he told me that I am earning more than what he was earning 10 years back. Though that sounds sweet from a dad, I feel pity for the fact that I haven't done anything for him till date and still needs his support at times of need. Probably its that feeling that he is there with me that keeps me going in life. I am sure,if not all,at least a few might have gone through the same..

Sorry mom,

I love "acha" more than you...

and I am scared... both of u are getting old and is alone over there......

One of the greatest things I like about my work place,my team in particular is the fact that all of us are youngsters,either in the mid 20's or late 20's,nothing beyond that.Though we have a lot of internal conflicts,somehow I still can relate myself to atleast a few of them.We have a daily routine in our office which we follow without fail everyday morning unless there is some data crunching and ass firing meetings!!!

As usual,after the initial round of vicious circle in the office,we all were on our way to the nearest food outlet to grab our breakfast.We had our regulars,a smoke and was on our way back when I came across an old lady who could hardly walk carrying a bag which looked soo heavy for her. The initial dilemma which crops up in my mind when i see someone like her is whether to help or not,if at all i help,will that be a gesture or an insult for her etc etc.Before i could figure out something,one of my colleugues gave her a hand and took the not so heavy bag from her.He took her to one of the apartments as per her instructions.I was a mere onlooker to all this feeling a lot of respect to my colleugue and a lot of disgrace to her care takers who left her alone in the streets,if at all there is some one like that.

The whole scene took my memories to something which happened more than a year back when I was at Hyderabad.I was staying in an apartment all alone,going through a hell of a time,addicted to booze,dope and a huge debt that a 23 year old could never think off.All this made me completely cut off from my acquaintences and I was literally floating in my own world.Keeping aside all that,what I am trying to put up is about an old man who used to spend his time in the verandah below my apartment.He was around 80 years old,his legs were swollen and rotten,suffering from elephantasis and spend his day and night at the same place ironing clothes for the days'bread.I always wondered how he could manage to lift the heavy iron box and i used to over pay him every time i give my clothes.At times I used to see an old lady and a middle aged man coming and giving him lunch and helping him out to deliver the clothes.Though i've never spoken to him,we shared a chemistry which later on made me do some thing which i can never forget in my life.

With the onset of monsoon,his life became more miserable as he could not sleep anymore in the wet verandah.But,he managed to adjust at the same place with some polythene covers and blankets to beat the cold and rains.Its a pathetic scene and there are numerous times when i wanted to do something for him,but felt helpless.In between,i met with a serious accident and was down for a week,succumbed myself within the four walls.Days passed by,myself adjusting with the food delivered at door and the regular shots of alcohol.I was feeling better and was getting ready to join work the subsequent week.But as usual,rains did a major havoc to AP and it was continuously pouring,flooding a major part of the area I was staying.It was then I thought of the oldie once again and I went down in the rains to see his condition.The scene which I saw over there was pathetic. He was a mere dead body,fully drenched and a few people to stare at it as if they were waiting to see it getting decayed. I lost my temper and started blasting at the onlookers making no difference to the scene. Somehow i covered his body with a curtain clothe and tried contacting the public ambulance numbers. The fact that the area was flooded made things worse and I was a mere watch man to his body in the heavy rains for the next two hours. After almost 3hours,an ambulance managed to come and they took away his body to the electric crematorium. Its still a mystery if they took him to the crematorium as I always believed unnatural deaths of anonymous people in the streets has to undergo a post mortem before being cremated.At the same time,i was not ready to take the head ache of being with the body until things were done and he was cremated with due respect.

Yes,it was a "head ache" indeed. And i am sure its a headache for many others around me.At least i am glad that i could do something to someone whose name and where abouts are still unknown.

Things were back to square one for me though this incident was really disturbing me a lot. Whenever i passed by the verandah,I feel bad for not giving him the complete respect,atleast as an old man.After all,he too is some one's dad,brother,husband or grand pa.

I regret now for being a privileged lot, for spoiling myself in the luxuries of life, confused between neccessities & luxury and portraying the issues we face as the worst anyone would face.

"when you face an issue in your life,open your eyes and see around. Then you will realise how lucky you are"

Gen Y with an Extra Gene!!!!!!

Right from my school days, I am amazed by the kind of difference I have with my fellow gens. Be it my juniors, my cousins or anyone,some or other things always startle me. Recently I came across something which I thought will scribble down somewhere as I have finally decided to transfer the thoughts within my pandora's box on to the keyboard!!!

Scene1: 6/10/09:

It was a bright day for me as i could speak to someone in the morning after a long time.That somehow gave me an inner energy to be charged until dusk.i was on my way to electronic city to meet few of my clients and as usual,i dropped into my favourite tamil brahmin outlet at koramangala 5th block.once i started having,a few guys or rather kids dropped into the restau&sat at the table beside me.they took the attention of each and every person sitting there,not because they had mirror cracking looks,but as any bangalorean knows it,they are not supposed to be there!!And they never dissappointed the crowd.Things started off with a loud "fuck you",but again no one is really bothered to turn their head to that particular word as its really strange if they dont use it once in two sentences.Then began the real conversation once they ordered their dosas n stuffs.I could clearly listen to what they were telling as my table was right next to them.It was all kicked off by one of those kids who himself started off his version portraying someone as bitch.Again it didnt bother me much as its a "respectful" word for our generation.But the second kid joined him by saying something about some "bastard".Bitches and bastards continued to fill up the silent restau and then i decided to sharpen my ears earning to hear something spicy.But alas!!They were all telling about their own parents and not some one else.Now that sounded strange to me.Strange enough to actually wind up my food&leave that place asap.I thought of telling something to them,but it would be a mere waste of advice from me and another "fuck you" session for them.

Scene2 16/10/09:

It was diwali holidays coming up and i was waiting for my bus to come.The fact that i was a heavy boozer and the long break with out even a single shot of alcohol took myself and my roomies to the nearest bar.They left early and I was waiting at the waiting lounge.Right next to me was this young girlsitting and head banging herself completely unaltered by the people around.Again,as bangalorised as she was,noone around was bothered except me as she kept banging on to my arm rest which was causing too much of a hindrance to my power naps.Then it went beyond a point that i decided to plug myselves with my list of bryans&james!The fact that i went completely into the songs, later resulting into some unseen,insane&unbearable texts is a different story which is worth scribbling later.But,coming back to the girl,she was quite interested in peeping into my playlist as and when i turned my screen on.Till then,i didnt know what kind of gadget that "wanna b tomboy" had pushed into her back pockets.Then came the real shock,an 8gb ipod in the back pocket,that too the typical girly pink.I felt a bit out of fashion for a moment when she took it and flashed it infront of me.Our banging sessions continued for almost an hour as the bus was late by almost 3hours!In between i squeezed myself out of the lounge to get some fresh air.It was freezing cold outside and I ended up with my banging partner in less than 5mins.Things went on&on,all of a sudden I heard "The Show" being played somewhere,which I'd never heard in any public place before other than in VH1.There again this girl shocked me with another gadget coming out of her front pocket,an I-PHONE!!For a moment,i doubted if she is Indra Nooyi's daughter on her way to kerala for a vaccation.Me,sitting in a normal waiting lounge with Nooyi's daughter?No,never,probably the whisky has hit hard on me.But i coudnt come out of the shock this girl kept on giving me every now and then.I was forced to run my eyes through her outfits to find out the brands she was wearing,but the mission was a failure.Now,i knew she is gonna give the next surprise soon and she did in the next 30mins.A Honda CRV came and parked infront of the place an a sid(wake up sid)look alike got out of it with a lot of travel gear.He came upto her and hugged her,she still clinging on to her chair,not bothering to get up but made sure she gav a peck on his lips.Again,this was not a shock to anybody around except an old mallu lady who had probably come to bangalore to meet her kids.I was ready to give my seat to sid as i coudnt take anything more at that moment.But like a seasoned traveller,he took the seat behind me.As the bus was getting late,the travel agent provided everyone with some softdrinks.As i was not really bothered about the brand of soft drink i've,i kept sipping whatever he gave me.Suddenly i realised that our tom boy girl had deplugged her self and was starring at me as if she found her lost brother.As soon as i turned to her,she said she doesn like fanta and that she have only coke!!Just then i realised that i was having coke.Before i could offer my bottle to her,the bus came and we all boarded in no time.There she comes again to me in the bus asking for the same bottle.Infact i left the bottle at the lounge and then she gave me a scary look which made me feel like i am a culprit.Anyways both sid&tomboy took the seat just infront of me.It was a semi sleeper and everyone could see whats going on in the front seats.Everyone squeezed themselves into the blanket as it was way past 1am in the morning.But our kids took the next shock out,a MAC BOOK!Then i doubted again about their roots,this time shifting myself from pepsi to apple.I couldt take it anymore and was trying to get some sleep.It was then our tomboy shook me up&gave me the final shock with her questions,"Are u a frequent traveller to cochin,How far is fort cochin from mg road,thats the last stop?we are actually on our way to spend our vaccation at cochin and alleppey,hows the climate there now?"I was forced to ask her what she was upto and then came the reply,"pre university,st.josephs'college"..aaah,that gave me a sound 8hour sleep!!!

Hara Kiri!!!!!!!

It was jus another fight between me and the person whom I admire the most in my life. But one thing I noticed today off the umpteen meaning less words which we exchange during these tip off’s is about hara-kiri or rather killing one self or suicidal tendency as its very commonly termed..

I may not have ever thought in my wildest dreams of attempting such a blunder, but quite often people fear when they see their dear ones in screwed up situations. The fear of loosing him or her being in such a situation and considering the fact that the person won’t be able to cope with the situation and may end up giving his life rather than trying to recover from the situation.

Why is this sort of tendency on a high in our generation? Even with in our generation there’s a lot of difference in the way we think, live and behave and nurture relationships. The same is applicable to hara kiri too. I have seen umpteen youngsters who are on the verge of suicidal for silly reasons. And I know a few unlucky lot who have actually tried the same too. Though I have not pondered deep into it, what I have actually seen is the very same guys are very much glad in their life with a slightest trigger of a lively bubbly atmosphere. Whether they attain it in the presence of their loved ones or friends or locality is immaterial. But they do attain that. At the same time they go back to their abnormal mood in no time with a small problem that might really be never a problem if we think deep into it.

I am quite sure almost 80% of the people we interact with daily are a lucky lot. A lucky lot who got hands, legs, family and security to carry on a wonderful life. But then why the hell is people going behind love failures, family troubles, social insecurity and moolah issues as a solid reason to end their life..??

Life is precious and is not something that should be ended in a split second. There’s no problem that cannot be solved. The biggest gesture you can ever do to human kind is to love and help people in whatever way you can. Try consoling and make people feel better. Suicidal tendency is never a disease, it’s an infatuation, being in love with death!!! There’ll be no bloody in this world who don’t have a single person to share things with. Try sharing your mind to some one who can support and make you feel better. Things gotta change and we can change the way our generation think about our own life..
Cheers!!! Live life to the fullest…Take things lightly and learn to make others feel better. Well, nobody will be perfect in this world and may not be able to be with others when you yourselves are screwed up with your life. But there’s nothing wrong in sharing and consoling I guess…..