Sunday, December 28, 2008

Mathematical Loneliness

I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

(Adapted from an anonymous author... with due credits to him/her... i only take the credit of discovering it :))

Experience therapy

Since the past few days I was a bit depressed about things around me. There was a sudden loss of sense of purpose and the motivation to do anything that I had previously, very willingly persuaded. I was sad about the way I was conducting life. Nothing had really turned out the way I had hoped.
I wasn’t happy to be a student at 24. I felt I was wasting life by not contributing anything to the world and only being a taker at this grown up age. People feel differently about themselves at this juncture. I was not convinced about mine.
Amidst all this, three things happened – a psychoanalytic test, a conversation and a book.
The test was called career anchors. It was meant to identify what anchors you to your career, or rather what you look for in your career. Not surprising, I scored high on “challenge”. Looking at that evaluation sheet I had clearly figured the reason for my dissatisfaction with myself. I knew I was unhappy because I was missing my anchor. I knew had to find one, and soon enough.
On one occasion I was sharing my thoughts with a friend about how I felt bad that I was being so unproductive these days, and he casually says, “I feel even a lazy Sunday afternoon is productive… it produces happiness”.. well! Well! Well!
This got me thinking… yeah.. he was damn right… indeed he was!!
My Christmas gift was a lovely book from secret Santa called ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’… it is a very unique book.. something like I’ve never read before… its starts with a whirl of emotions on the first page n carries on with the same intensity all along… beautifully written.. for the first time i felt that the author is someone much bigger than a common man. He has expressed such difficult thoughts so candidly. I reached the brim at every page..
The book taught me the right thing at the right time. I wanted to be happy and was chasing material accomplishments for that. I had left my previous job because, despite a posh life, it was not enjoyable. Maybe, I needed something else to keep me happy. And that something was spirituality. And that spirituality was my anchor.
Spirituality brings content.
It is a new feeling… and its serene.. its peaceful and calm.
I feel I have suddenly stopped, after chasing my shadow for years. I have gained sense.
I am much happier since the day I realized it. I want to cherish what I have got and value my relationships. I want to stop and feel what I have rather than chase what I don’t.
I am here to live my moment and not long for it. I have learnt to let go.
I have learnt to experience life.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Lonely

When I set out on this journey, I was only,

Breaking free of bonds that chained my flight,

When I walked the path I chose, I was lonely,

I wanted speed, I wanted height.


Fleeting through an un-ventured lane,

For choice, for peace, I flew an independent mile,

Looking back at it again,

I have been lonely all the while…

Saturday, July 26, 2008

My Rendezvous with Imran Khan

Last Saturday, as the class of 2010 arrived with Impressions, so did Imran Khan on the chequered pastures of SIMSR!
We were all taken by surprise as the last minute posters were hung around the notice board and mess during late dinner hours. The quickly improvised posters also carried a small footnote stating that the first three people, who emailed the organiser, from the college would get an opportunity to meet the hunk in person. Most thought it was just a marketing gimmick by soon to be Managers, to invite better participation in Impressions. However it seemed radio frequencies caught the news in the air and broadcasted it all around.
Now the question is: how I got into this?
Well, I just thought I’d drop an email to the concerned person, for reasons not specifically defined, and Eureka! I was in the top three.
On the D-Day, my name was repeated several times during the Impressions performances (which made me feel like a celebrity anyway!), and I was summoned into the “Red” auditorium. The audi was embellished with huge cut-outs of Imran and heavy incomprehensible equipment and paraphernalia. I climbed the stairs of the stage and crossed a narrow passage with three doors to reach a huge open space backstage which looked like a VIP conference room. I hurriedly scanned the entire room: Atleast 20 people were seated across the U shaped table, looking like producers, directors, cameramen, script coordinators, presenters, security, lighting, etc. On the side were huge sound equipment and several TV screens displaying various angles of the auditorium. In one corner of the room, our SIMSR dance team was quietly huddled. I decided to join them.
Imran Khan was either invisible or evaporated.
A dark black man was giving out instructions to everyone. He was reading out of a printed script and pointed at the person who was to perform the task: “Then Imran would enter”, “then he would sit down, behind the table”, “then you would introduce him…”. This was the lady in the skimpy nothing that she was wearing – believe me, from the distance that I saw her, she was all white and red with cosmetic coats on her face. “Excuse me”, she squeaked, “Would Imran be sitting while answering questions or he will be standing?”… I was horrified at the degree of detail these people function on.
Anyway, then I was given a question which I would ask him from the audience. Not only that , I was also positioned appropriately in the middle seats and Miss Skimpy nothing remembered my name. I was to coordinate with her for the questions. My question: “Imran aap Jaane Tu ke bare mein kuch bataeiye.. Is film mein apka character kis kirdar par based hai.. aur aapke pyaare doston ket pyare se kirdar ke peeche kya inspiration hai?” … “As u know his character .. RATS”, the Blackman was looking straight at me. Confused, I nodded. F@#k! I haven’t even seen the movie. Not even heard a single song. And I am here to meet him. This was when I realised that the utility I would derive from the meeting would be much lesser than some of my friends, who were already drooling over the star. However, the prospect of making them jealous was too inviting. I was the lucky one ;)
Now the big question - where was Imran?
I don’t know. He was certainly not visibly present at that place. I even tried to look behind the gigantic bouncers standing against the wall. My curiosity was growing to high degrees.
I tried hard to memorize the question they had given me. I was being repeatedly told to be careful to ask the exact same question because Imran might get confused if I framed it differently. It sounded as absurd then, as it is sounding now.
The meeting soon dispersed and we were told to take our positions in the auditorium. I could hear people discussing that Imran had arrived already. A bit of disappointment began sinking in as I suspected that this was all I was going to get from it. Some time passed and soon the Blackman came to me and informed that my question had been changed to “What was the most memorable moment during the shooting of Jaane tu?”. I felt a bit relieved as this was a comparatively shorter question and framed in English.
Sigh! I was thinking to myself, just when my saviour, Rishi appeared on the stage and signalled to the three of us to come up. Yippie ! we were going to meet him…
Back to backstage…
This time we went further beyond the conference room into another small row of cabins with glass doors. I could hear some hustle bustle at the end of the passage. As we were approaching the last cabin, I could see a young 20 something in a bright green T-shirt and Firang colour and complexion, talking to a bunch of people. I thought to myself, he must be saying what one of my insane friends says: “Main gori chamri ka hun!” ..lol
Rishi took us inside the small cabin and introduced us one by one to him. As he shook hands with each one of us, he made sure that he was attending to us completely. In between, he would bend slightly and give his shy smile, raising his right eyebrow. By this time I had concluded that he was ABSOLUTELY, completely, 100% CUTE.
We all clicked snaps with him. “Exclusive” individual snaps and some group pictures. I was immensely impressed by his composure and warmth. He had no airs about himself. As we collectively tried to make conversation with him, it turned out to be nothing more than random blabbering. He also tried to nod and be kind. Back of his mind he was thinking something…. “Are they already there?”, he enquired, with the eyes of a kitten. Some girls could have fainted at this. Yeah.. all houseful !!
Ahan!.. “ And how many people there?”… I could sense the nervousness with which he had asked this. Will the “star” feel the same nervousness as you and I do. I was completely washed over by his ultimate simplicity and innocence.
Cut to now.
I’m back here in room 303 and he, somewhere in tinsel town. But my status on orkut reads: “I recently found Imran and he is also Khan!”
My profile picture and album on every social networking sight / chat is adorned with his picture beside me.. I have never received so many comments / compliments ever on a single photo. I am a celebrity overnight.
You must be wondering what happened between then and now. Well, that my dear friends… Jaane tu ya Jaane Na !!