Monday, November 26, 2007

Sunday, October 21, 2007

To come...

  • Dimension Z

  • How GE lost its second position

  • Of overturned rafts and badana zombies


Twilight

The skyline o'er me draws a ribbon of gleam
I see that little window across the road on the nineteenth floor
I see the dream
I see it open, I see it waiting ..wanting more

The music that I hear is not a sound
The world that I seek is not finite
Below me is zero ground
And above..breaking twilight...

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

A Mid-Career Crisis

A phenomenon that I very recently observed as being very dominant in my life is ..well .. not exactly the midcareer crisis.

In fact the most unique thing about this state of being is that I share it with several youth of my and upbringing. One prominent thing in this is that most youngsters going through a similar mental exercise would typically belong to the above average young overachievers.

The basic problem with us is the stubbornness to demand nothing but the very best of things in life and also the unwillingness to accept the readily avaible mediocre options.

We have all historically been excellent academic genioussess, all rounders, apples of parents and teachers eyes, at the same time popular with friends and great at ideas, have had opinions at everything and anything on earth , and also always had the cheek to get heard.

Ok I am sleepy... can I do this tomorrow?

Lead on my lashes..

Heavy heart
It kills but doesent make you dead

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Potential is unimaginable..

Its amazing how I consistently beat my own expectations of my capabilities each day.

Its just a matter of trying a bit harder –

I think what is important is the willingness to do something
Like I would not expect myself to do anything but crash on my bed after spending good 17 hours in office and having slept not more than four hours each day for the last five days – but no..I get back and get on to my laptop – for two things – my blog and my last crush.

No matter what keeps me busy each day – but come home and his thought inevitably comes with. My sheer temptation of finding out what he is upto pushes me to unimginable limits of stamina and enthu when I spend millions of hours over the net each night just to catch his trail.

It kinda funny as well. But you really can’t always reason out what drives whom.
And my blog is the inherent unaccomplished desire to become popular – of doing something more motivating than the mudane other 17 hours.

It gives me a kick to do this – write something for my blog. Gives me a feeling that I’m getting there – straw by straw – I’m building up my dream – each day, else I feel I just lost another important day without contributing to my purpose – just doing what I’m currently bound to do. Its my desire to live something that drives me to make efforts not otherwise doable for me – mentally and also physically.

My eyes are dropping - wonder if anyone shares the same passion as me.
I wish I had a similar drive for things that could impact me more materially

Monday, September 10, 2007

Ramblings

“I have just a thing in my pocket..
But its not one.. its many”


Life is such an unpredictable combination of events. You can have one million crushes and feel like dying for each one of them each day..and you might have one long cherished dream and won’t hesitate giving it away when its right there in your hands.. for maybe, as little as a day of peace or a glass of water.. or wine maybe.


Music is a great company..it makes you feel crowded in solitude and keeps you private in a crowded place.
It sometimes even helps overcome heat.

As I pour these assorted ramblings, I would confess that a confused mind is akin to a raffle hamper – full of surprises, excitement and lacking any sequence or order…and sometimes reason (for e.g. there is no reason why a sachet of shampoo should be found with a pack of wafers in the hamper. The interesting thing here is that none of these, although random, are redundant. The sachet fulfills its utility of avoiding the embarrassment of borrowing hair wash on a sleepy Monday morning when you suddenly realize shivering under your perpetually leaking cloggy shower that banging your ancient bottle against your palm wont produce anymore heavenly drops of unworldly cleansing agents. Moreover the whole pain of peeping naked through half open doors to call for aid and then having to raise your voice to deafening pitches to ensure that someone heard your call can all be saved …. Thanks to the sachet in your hamper.



And for the pack of wafers..well, tha’ll be the first thing you pick up from the pack and whoof !...that adipose on you just grew richer!!

White and yellow are corporate colours.

The above is crap.

Actually investment bankers feel that yellow ties are cool and poker is professional. They love the word – “professional” I mean. Someone once joked that taking small sips of cold water and wearing yellow ties with light coloured shirts and talking less than frowning is professional..maybe it is.

I banking is many more things as well. Its about about craking big deals and negotiating and getting done with. About fat bonuses and research reports and about outsourcing.

I have a kaleidoscope in my pocket . if you put in one chip..i’ll show you twelve..if you put one thought ..i’ll have twenty.

MATH IS INEVITABLE.
And it goes on the resume.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

I cant give up

If I’m trying to convince myself for being happy, am I being a saint?

I am a very lonely person by virtue of my nature and also by virtue of this I am mostly very unfortunate.

Taking this in an extremely pragmatic manner leads me to believe that every second person on this planet might feel the same way. However, my human heart further questions the heavens for not including me in the other half.

Having seen 23 years of inequality, injustice and irrationality, I am now used to taking in the customary blows with ease and getting back on track pretty quickly.

Nothing in life is fair. But probably that’s where the fun is – more like a gamble – pure gamble no rationality.

A Game Of Chance.

Though I have lost quite a few lately and historically as well, something very adamant inside me pulls together my very battered morale and keeps humming a tune it calls hope.

Maybe I would never win, but as long as there’s hope – I can pretty much manage it.
J

PS: My stars say Im very stubborn. And I believe its true.

Monday, September 3, 2007

The Legend of the PASS

One fine morning, it so occurred to the heavens that I be subjected to a wholesome, heavenly, and out-of-the-ordinary drill in my mundane and only-15 work hours a day-easy going life.

Now the situation had to be defined and the characters, curriculum and itenary had to be freezed – this is when they thought of making it unique –

“Lets subject her to something she would very willingly leap for”, muttered one of the fatso God of games.

My box-o-wishes was opened and scutinized one by one:

“I want to own a doll house with its own mava lamp and plants with real mud pots”

“I want to grow up to become like my darling sis “

“I want to win that essay competition”

“God give me 100 in math”

“I pray to be taller”

“I want to own a blog”

“I wish to quit”

“Thinner please”

“I want to go abroad”

!!!!!!!!!!

“Crazy woman, what we make of her pending applications?”

“Well, there is hope in the last one!”, exclaimed the God of fiction. So there sat the great gods of destiny and wrote the fiction of the “legendry drill”.

The Gods sent a messenger in the name of one PG, who by evil chance turned out to be my reporting engagement manager. Early morning 8am email reads “do you posses a passport?,,reply asap. Keep mum about this”

Adrenalin runs all over me and decathelons into my head and heart.

Fuck I don’t !!!

Did he secretly conspire with the gods to find out I was thinking about this last night?

9 am boss arrives and a scurried up to him. He looked at me with a look of a doctor about to announce pregnancy, “Sana, this is a golden opportunity for you”, he clasped his hands and looked straight into me. I tried hard to maintain balance and look composed – “despite layers over you, I have recommended your name for the upcoming US visit on our new accounts”

#

Didn’t know what to say.

Nodded.

Are you ready for this?

Nodded.

Know the processes?

Nodded.

Passport?

Nodded.

….in the negative ofcourse”

15 days and you are flying..do the arrangements”, walked off.

Now the complete reality of the situation having dawned on me, I realized what it means to live a dream.

Then began the eternal legend of the PASS – the process of earning a passport…

I had to spend a day with one of my expert uncles to help me fill up my form and then another day to arrange all the papers. In the process, we discovered that my name had been accidentally struck off the electoral rolls of my residential area, and hence there was no proof of my proof of address!! Hurdle 1.

Took a day and a couple of money filling gabs to get records right.

That’s three days gone.

On the next day I were to assemble at the passport office to submit my application. Someone suggested that I reach the passport office early in the morning to avoid any rush and the long queues.

All night I spent dreaming of a huge arch looming over a dimly lit sky as I walk through the façade of what I pictured to be the PASSPORT OFFICE.

When I reached the office next morning, I was welcomed by a mob – that’s what I call it – over a hundred people – some in queues while some trying to break them.

I quietly positioned myself one mile from the target window, at what seemed like the tail of an infinite ribbon of humans. And smelly ones by Jove. It was past 4 by the time I was done with this ordeal.

After spending over eight hours, foodless, shelterless and amidst smelly shoulders and sweaty faces, I felt wretched.

I wanted to give up, but then I thought of the big ben – not that I didn’t know that it wasn’t in the US – just wanted to check if you noticed ;). Therefore having thought of the Big Ben alias my long cherished dream of the foreign trip brought me back into the world of materialism and want.

I waited patiently for the next few days for the police inquiry to my residence. It did not happen. I had to shake a branch or two only to find out that my application was not yet forwarded from the passport office. Money moves things faster.

The application arrived at the police station and my dad had to drive the designated officer to our house for the inquiry and serve him with crispy greens to get the approval pass smoothly.

By then I had already lost ten days. Five more to go.

My boss kept nagging me for the passport day and night. And by this time the casual inquiries transformed into subtle warnings. I could sense the we-might-have-to-send-someone-else tone in his voice.

I kept promising that it would arrive soon. It had to arrive within the next three days.

I waited, called the officials, visited the office, tried money , nothing happened.

The passport did not arrive – that’s what the God of Fiction decided – that it would not arrive.

PG gave up, looked at me with the look of the ditched lover and sent someone else.

I kept reading glossy paper mags on the hot spots to visit in the US.

The heavens rejoiced as I worked 15 hours a day and sulked o’er my luck. Different from my usual routine.

Some days later, my passport arrived – I turned the leaflets of the blue booklet and started at my corporate looking picture. Damn I deserved to be there.

Then I stared at my address and thought of the hurdle 1 ordeal.

Then I started at other insignificant details – my date of birth, father’s name, sex, ..
Wait.. I’m not a “male”!! They had marked my sex as male. Could they not see my corporate looking picture? Or could they not differentiate between male and female species.

It made me picture a huge ancient machine churning out passport books and mixing records and getting stuck at every power cut (we have hundreds of them in our city).

That is probably why it took so much time for the passport to arrive. To save me from the embarrassment of hitting America with a Male identitiy. J
That’s the irony and the humour..

The heavens laughed their butts off, and patted the God of Twists.

Even I did ;)


Epilogue

As I unfold the legend, I’m more and more convinced that the heavens played a big role in crafting and concluding this legend.

Even that I’m probably writing this because the heavens want to document it for their records, so they can nominate this for the Best Legend, in the next “7heaven awards”.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Saturday Out – Movie JBJ

3:00am in the morning, sitting in your balcony and sippin tea doesent get you anywhere…
..Neither does spending two and a half hours over a big can of coke, watching a schizophrenic’s story.

The cacophony of orkut scraps and a million career perspectives wrapped in a thousand considerations add nothing more than confusion to a mind that is too tired to think.

C’mon its Saturday and I can be excused for making that excuse…

Right ! So getting back to where I was…I let all the mind khidri simmering and spent my Saturday doing something absolutely worthless and uncountable. However, I agree that watching a movie is not always a worthless experience and can, only very few times though, be considered good entertainment. Also, it depends a lot on your choice if movies, as there exist both good and bad movies. A good movie makes you feel extremely happy or extremely sad - This in essence means that it stirs some sort of emotions in you. And the bad movies make you feel disgusted and duped, since you did not get value for money. However, there is also a category called the non-qualifiers. This category of movies leave you puzzled.

I’ll be elaborating this further…

Jhoom Barabar Jhoom is a top qualifier to the non-qualifier category. I laughed throughout the movie - not because it was funny but because it was absurd.

The story begins with Amitabh jiggling to the title track with a group of brit crowd at the tube station, where Abhishek and Preity bump into each other to pour out crazy stories about their fiancés and how they fell in love with them.

Amitabh jiggles...

Then they end up doing crazy stuff – hopping up an escalator wrong side, body tattoeing, and spinning more stories. Typical Indian mentality style…oops! Pakistani as well.

Two very unlikely people end up liking each other and take it forward….but so do their stories… Some bit of drama and Amitabh jigling later, obviously, in typical Indian and Pakistani style, it all gets revealed when their spoofs are bombed and they decide to kiss it off.

And then …then what.. Amitabh jiggles at the station yet again.

Puzzled …in’e?

Music can be rated MONOTONOUS ..a single song is played seven times in the movie and every time the same group jiggles to it…AB included.

The only saving grace is the star cast – with mature actors like Abhishek, Preity, Bobby and Lara.. the movie becomes quite tolerable.

All one can do through the movie is – laugh…like the way Boman Irani did in Munna Bhai MBBS J

I recommend a watch..to understand non-qualifiers and see how a comic book with pages in mixed order appears on screen.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

My First Blog

Its breezy outside
And a little rain too.

I think it’s a solitary whether.

Drenched in my misery
I wait for my own time..