Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Until the next NIGHT!


I vividly remember the last night parade of thoughts during my slumber, resulting in the residual of a grin on my sleepy face, the whole process. When the slumber broke, I came to senses, met the real world and an another new morning which usually is bereft of any joy, especially when I have to rush for work; but today, my grin didn’t scurry away like a rat scurries away after seeing a cat, except Jerry. Jerry can kick Tom’s ass any day. Period!

My grinning didn’t flinch!

A light headed morning wake-ups are only a result of a good night’s sleep or no hangover; and waking up grinning, mind you, a full ear to ear, is a lot more than a cherry on top of a cake. Oh wait, before you open your judging fangs let me clear that neither I’m in love nor I’m stupid; even my mother had me tested! Then why such an anomaly? What was the dream about? Why it out lived reality?

Well, to be honest, in my dreams I didn’t go to Hogwarts, neither did I find Drogon, Rhaegal, Viserion nor Toothless, didn’t stroll with Bagheera and Baloo, and definitely not flew over the palaces of Agrabah. Honestly, I can go on with these things I didn’t do for whom I could give away anything to do or be with, so cutting straight to the chase – I saw my siblings and a few close friends playing odd-house-after-drunk games.

I bet, by now, I must have let down the curiosity of most of you, cursing, ‘He sounded promising and thrilling this time and ended up being a damp squib. What is such a big deal about playing games with your siblings? We play that all the time, don’t we?’

First of all, WE DON’T! Not all the time. And if you are still wondering what is the big deal in playing, then I pity you my friend. You’re nothing but lost. Secondly, I think it is a big deal because we have lost contact with you-know-who, ah not Voldemort, your siblings and friends. You dumb fuck! Thirdly, I believe I dreamt that because I happened to indulge myself into such an experience. On my birthday night!

My room, post a cake cutting ceremony and all the elders off to bed, was filled with sibling, cousins and a few friends. We opened all the bottles – Whiskey for the boys, Vodka for the girls, beer after Vodka-Whiskey and Breezer and soft drinks for the faint hearted, children and a pregnant lady. Oh! My Bhabhi is pregnant and due in June. Along with bottles, we had also sneaked in a few starters for biting, ice, playing cards, board games, pen-pencils and books. It only meant a BIG NIGHT ahead!
 Recent turn of events have made us all fall short of time to catch up with one another, as almost everyone is placed and working really hard to build a stable career. Those days are gone where we wouldn’t care about waking up early and planning our day as per a schedule. Thus, giving us all a small window to match our timings and work on the feasibility just to have a good time together. Like most families, we do meet on occasions such as birthdays or public holidays which promise the 3Ds: Dance. Daru. Dhamaal.

Coming back to the night, we all were exhausted dancing with our tummies and livers imploring for you-know-what! We struggled to mark a place for ourselves, first-come-first-basis, in my compact bedroom, where we could seat leaning on something and still maintaining the circle with all the paraphernalia for the night in the center on the bed. We started playing cards to make some money while we were sober, then eventually accentuated our wits with more brainy games as our minds got sloppy. We played, splitting in two teams, a Low-Volume-Antakshri, Dumb-Charades, Cards again, Quiz with pen-pencil as well as buzzer rounds, and with the decisive game for the night before going full-fledged on drinking again – One minute.

The parts to remember were the cheating done in these games – be it poker or be it a pen-paper game. A few of us we copied answers or prompted wrong answers to the other team or distracting from catching the charades. The most fun game was the decisive one – One Minute. In this game, every player will get to select a topic on which every other member, including the proposing player, has to write the highest number of elements relating to the topic, within one minute. E.g. If someone selects cars, then everyone must write as many names as possible within a minute.

Cars, body-parts, Pokémon’s, flowers, rivers, capitals, etc. were a few of the topics. We selected worst of worst topic we believed that we could write way more than the opposition to get the edge. The best part was the adrenaline rush in each and every one either writing or copying and the fun of chase in such an inebriated stage made it special. Even a corrupt government would fall short of cheating when compared to the cheating taking place. The even funnier part is when the correction is being done, needless to say that everyone has turned into a doctor by now. A doctor’s handwriting is still legible, but how is one supposed to know that B, A, N…. and a little of scribbling ahead in Hebrew or probably Greek are the remaining letters of the fruit called banana.  D, E and a wavy line meant Delhi! God save such chaos and competition and the rightful demand for that one full mark even after a typo which ultimately made the checker to give in.

The best part comes when a team wins, with a few deceits, with a team of righteous and an obvious-winning-padhaku-players. The deceivers will tease the hell out of those players making, all in all, everyone laugh. Finally, with the dawn turning brighter, all would retire into their respective assigned beds. These being the normal rituals of the 3Ds of our night-stay, which all of us made sure not to miss. Ending up with father waking up everyone as early as possible in the morning, without a hint of the happenings of the night.

Currently, May is going on, that night, THE NIGHT was in March, still I dreamt it; it made my morning; still that dream lit me up. Definitely, not ‘LITT ME’ up! Such are the memories, one of the best, I know, I’m going to cherish till the end. After all, doesn’t happiness lie in the small things we do with our loved ones? We had many such nights in the past with, now, the frequency of such nights hitting a plateau on a PLC graph, I await such nights like an ardent fan awaits the next episode of  the Game of Thrones.


Until the next NIGHT!

Monday, February 15, 2016

Make in India

Not everyday one comes across an event like this. The grandeur of it is dumbfounding. Follow your instincts and keep checking cells after cells or halls after halls, or if you're the serious types follow the schedule list, but the eternity of the hope of future-development's manifestations either put in by the originals or the prototypes would only keep amusing your mind and tiring your body; especially legs.


And again, who would complain when there's a cafeteria which quenches thirst with chilled beer. Yes! You read it right. BEER! Coffee is also there along with some snack stuff, but who would care to know about it. Correct? 

Yes! It's a different type of a gig. Where the orchestrated Jcbs, earth moving machinery dance to the rhythms of flute in sync. These Jcbs bucking just like the wild horses or an adrenaline junkie doing a wheelie. Standing on there hind-whatever it is. Simply awesome! Oh wait! BEML showed their mining beast as well; around three storeys height or maybe more. Tyres only of 20 odd feet. Oof!

If not for all these and many more interesting things, there were such promising speeches and seminars conducted by dignitaries of the state and the country to enlighten, allure, engage the common man and the international corporate world along with our corporate geniuses for a better scope of business development in this country. 

Again, it's not everyday that you come across  the Chief-minister, the Defense minister, the Education minister, the Municipal commissioner and many more such as these.
Let's Make in India! 

Some interesting photos from day1: 





















Tuesday, February 2, 2016

THE PROCESS OF BUYING A MOBILE PHONE BACK THEN


Engrossed was I, totally oblivious of the time, while working at office that I had a sale to attend to. A Flash sale!

I opened the Flipkart app on my iPhone and waited for the sale to begin for which I had pre-registered a week before. As the clock struck noon, as my memory reads, I hit the ‘buy’ button simultaneously to have a futile outcome. I was sure, even with the speed of Flash I would have been late. Alas! The limited edition mobile phone that I was trying for, to gift mother, to surprise her on Valentine’s Day, was out of stock and of my reach.

Disheartened, I got into my cubicle, all distracted trying to focus on work again. Focus, then seemed like a lady of very high standards; too exasperating to woo. The more I tried, the more she ran away. To clear my head of these chemical imbalances I distracted myself by turning towards the busy street, through the glass doors. The unfailing streets were loaded with conspicuous dust billowing, erratic throng of people with vehicles running helter-skelter; presumably honking their heads off. This was usual and if someday, the streets go anomalous, it’s safe to presume an India-Pak Cricket match going on. Once, when brooding over the loss of the cell phone, I came across a family crossing the street and then, the already disturbed and distracted mind, went wandering the thoroughfares of nostalgia.

Back in the second half of the first decade of 21st century, mobile phones started inundating the markets. The transition of mobile phones from the basic to the smart phones happened like a knockout match of Mike Tyson; one killer punch and the match was over.

All I care about that time was the occasion of buying a new cell phone; weeks of research, suggestions from friends and families and then chalking out a feasibility graph with respect to the budget and finalizing the product. Now, this was the background check done at home, the real fun was hitting the Mobile-phone seller’s shop and coming vis-à-vis an ocean of choices to opt for. Slowly, steadily going through the various dummies kept in front and the originals well packed in minted boxes, nicely displayed over the shiny glass shelves. And not just desiring for the best but lusting for it. If all these displays were not enough than there was a strong sales-force of a smart salesperson playing with your mind, finally upselling!

The euphoria of eclectic noises of sellers, customers, queries, features making one dumbfounded and finally surprised at one’s pick after getting out of shop to the corresponding model pre-fixed after a detailed study at home.

For me, it was like preparing for a festival – immense researches, discussing with friends, accompanying father and brothers to the mobile-shops, seeing those display pieces, taking in, incredulously, every bit of the bullshit that the salesman fed me, reconsidering the budget discussed at home, the warnings about not throwing any tantrums in the shops. Definitely not to roll on the floor for an out of the reach mobile handset.

Finally, after all fixed; seeing father do the payment with sparkling eyes and buy the piece you desired, lusted for; getting home, with an attempt to hide the conspicuous grin and a ever-happy and excited mind.

The unboxing, I need not describe, like handling a little baby and carrying it along, even more meticulously; at least for a week.

No matter what phone I ever bought back then, I straight away jumped to explore the gaming section.

p.s.: Online buying has killed the buzz.

  

Monday, January 4, 2016

A PEEKABOO WITH MOUNTAINS

“We’re taking a Vacation!” These very words fill the air in the room with excitement and anticipation. One forgets one’s real-world and gets into dream-world; wondering the potential fun, new experiences, the differences, breaking the monotony and so on to come.

Ever since the survival for everyday has gotten us all enslaved to monotony, we all crave for vacations–they’re like income, either in installments or lump sum; we love them.

Vacations, these days, include taking a small or big trip out of station with all our kith and kin, either visiting the tourist destination or exploring the various geographies across the globe in search of peace, love, happiness or all!

My last encounter was with the mighty Himalayan ranges, where I came across the might and light of these ranges. It went from being brown to green to snow white and growing from being small to big, to huge and finally to ridiculously humongous!

One often, whilst looking out of a window of a moving car, ends up playing PEEKABOO with these mountains which tend to hide behind either the trees or one another.  

I going deeper and higher in these ranges was directly proportional to the falling of temperature way below zero degrees and to the increase in number of layers of sweaters I got myself in.

As we travel and advance towards the early traces of snow or the snow advances towards us and that the FIRST glimpse of the snow that can be actually touched and felt and not just admired for lying on the top of the peaks is beyond words. The chills of mixed emotion that set into motion with the chilly breeze kissing your face and a ball of snow in palms for your pal to take will definitely make one forget one's own wedding.

And if fate has it, one would be fortunate enough to dance under a snowfall letting those soft, smooth, sliver of ice glide through or stay. The first glimpse is no less than the first love; following the same excitement for both and making a permanent room in your mind palace.

The most enthralling and delightful experience of all is to see the advancing snow. It is always bliss when seeking for snow, travelling in a car, going up-hill to finally see it around you, spattered, on the branches and leaves of the trees, on the sides of the road, on the roofs of houses, shops; gradually, with the gaining altitude the concentration of the snow increases from appearing as white-speckles to growing into a full white meadow. The green and the brown patches being filled with white, soft snow reversing the whole mechanism with now just a few green or brown speckles on a sheet of white.

Apart from this transition of brown-green-white and warm-cold, it’s a feeling of victory and achievement. As it is not every day that one can break one’s mundane work and kiss the ecstasy of vacationing.


It’s a tête-à-tête with nature that will last forever. 

Monday, November 16, 2015

The Gen- Z


“Nuclear family” is the new way of living; at least in the always-forward-on-copying-blindly-from-the-west India. It, indeed, is a rare occasion when a whole family gathers and spends the evening peacefully without grappling. It is a rare, isn’t it?

On the trailing end of Diwali comes the auspicious day of Bhai-Duj; a day, much like Raksha Bandhan,  where a brother swears for the protection of his sister/s and sister/s ripping him off of his bank account.

Ours being a big family, we had a get-together, with all agreeing on a decided venue; performed all the ceremonies and then followed our year old tradition: Partying!
The simplicity of the day being the children, YES! The Gen-Z, of our family, ranging from 3 years old to 13 years old.  All my nieces!  

When, post the ceremony, we all, mostly the siblings, gathered around the table, obviously, for the alcohol’s and good old days’ sake. An altogether different party had started inside one of the bedrooms: The Party of the Gen-Z!

My nieces, all from the different parts of Mumbai, seldom meeting each other, gelled-in like they were the best of friends – Chuddi-buddies; a few recently being able to walk, talk and chill without continuous support/crying for their parents; leaving their parents some respite.

When the party on our side opened the bottles for the first round, the voices of the Team Gen-Z rose, after an exchange of general greetings and gifts.

We taking down the first round; they chattering about the vacation. We with no enthusiasm, waiting for the alcohol to kick some enthusiasm within us; they were already at the pinnacle of the enthusiasm. And voices, of course!

Second round, got us talking; they already into different sets of team and with a ready plan, only waiting to execute. We got to card games – money based gambling. They resorted to power-based card games: Doraemon trading cards, Pokemon…

The rounds went on and so did the clamoring inside the bedrooms. Their games kept changing and so did the level of eclectic noises keep changing. They played from Horror games, to adventurous games, to accessorizing dolls or setting up a kitchen set to chasing each other madly … The last game they ended on was everyone’s childhood special – Hide & Seek.

 Where we were onto alcohol, to make us ‘siblings’ chit-chat, and like each other, at least for one evening, those young and fresh minded, with less or no fights got into accepting each other the way they were and in a way showing us to how to make friends or how to live a life.

No egos, No pride.

Well, in the end, a family that drinks together dances together.

A last round for the evening was yet to be played before the dinner was served. Both the groups got together and danced on the Bollywood’s dancing-numbers. It was nothing but delightful to see everyone heaving, jiggling, jumping with so much energy and seeing those children dance is a sight for which anyone would give away a 1000days without a second thought. Thus, ending the whole ceremony on a happy note.


Happy Diwali!

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Let’s Sneak-Out


“Yay! Finally the exams are over… come down guys.” This was the common dialogue running through the lobbies and the passages of our societies when we were in class 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, or 10th. “Tonight we won’t sleep. Hell, YEAH!"
Let's Sneak Out, Play!
Normally, back then, in the late ‘90s and early 2000, we were maniacs; like what a crab is to water and holes, we were to Cricket or playing. On a slightest window, we all had sneaked out from our parental monitoring just to be with our friends and hit a few balls. We were no different.

Adolescent got us friends for life; those imbecile groups of boys and girls incessantly vying and thousands of unsaid protocols to be followed, which we worshiped reverently. Coming up with codes which only the group would understand and even worse was the tagging of a name. A name tagged once, was tagged for eternity. Nonetheless, the adolescent was playful with every excuse for getting down, to be madly in love in an one sided love affair, attending schools and tuitions post school; bunking classes to go take a match, or to watch a movie, or to end a skirmish, or the most dreadful one, to take a girl out.  A thrill for the chase made life jubilant.

Now, the tables have turned, times have changed, whenever an exam ends, we hit to the nearest bar and get our drunk-brains out. Ranting about the miserable life, the upturns, the lost love, the broken-hearts, the cheats, pretending to be happy, dancing until we crash in beds and not waking-up before midday.  

A miracle took place, when we, just after the exams, unanimously agreed onto going out to play. Cricket!  

Cricket!? It won’t be wrong or far-stretched to say that none of us had played for a really long time. In the daily survival for the mundane, we had lost the definition of fun, enjoyment, excitement. Playing for an hour meant endless fun followed by two days’ of body ache. Body Ache?
Challenge accepted!

Location was set: a friend’s society with our pitch – a concrete based. Superb Bounce!

Without much dilly-dallying, after our exams, we headed for the location. We began and lasted for nearly 150 minutes with everyone going out of breath. Panting!

We are not the best players, none of us, but we definitely are a fun to watch and play with. We ran at our pace; panted more than the covered miles; the jiggling protruding bellies and asses; the fight over water much to one’s delight. No meaningless drunk nights and dancing in the clubs could give you that what a fatso friend (Vinit Shah) of yours, running like a Rhino, between the wickets just to be on a safer side.   

For a brighter side, how much fun would it be to first get drunk, all of us, and then make that fatso run?

Evil, I’m!  




Sunday, November 8, 2015

A Clamoring Dream


“Come Fly with us, make the most of the open lock. Fly again!” The clamor broke out again; all with big and expectant eyes on me.

 I, with my recently shampooed cyan coat shinning and the strong crimson beak even more crimson in the morning rays, was perched well on the much-like-a-wooden-log stand, brooding over the options given to me to decide within a few seconds before the lock is done again. A golden steeled cage let loose from the ceiling, in his bedroom’s balcony, was my abode; my latest abode. One side was the open sky beyond the rods of the cage and the rods of the balcony grills and on the other side was the vastness of his room.
Stop brooding over, just Fly Away!

Today, all the senior members and the most learned of all that perched on the rod of the grills of the balcony had come to advise me. I was looking for my friends, the ones who would visit me every day and picked up an unsaid relationship; the ones more like me, but free. Today, the assembly had come on the grills of balcony, with everyone finding it difficult to balance on the sleek rods shaped in various forms to make the grill look more artistic. All the assembly squawked on me to let go the cage and embrace the nature; get into the wild.

I could hear the heart’s thudding and feel the pressure shooting up. For me, how could I leave all this, I have been with him for more than half of my life, he has made my childhood beautiful, he seldom locks me up. I’ve a comfortable life here, I’ve a swing, a pond for myself, the whole cage, variety of food, then what else would anyone want more? But the stories of my friends from across the grills of the balcony, the vast flying experiences, the kiss of the breeze, the flight in the rain, the chase, getting chased, falling in love, raising a family, singing the tree songs, the family-flying dance, the color of the seasons, all these seem like a beautiful dream to me. Meanwhile, the heart pounding so heavily as if to bludgeon someone to death. I had a narrow window of time to sneak out before he wakes up and loves me again for me to forget the world and sing for him and only him.

On a whim, I couched and got out; and suddenly, the clamor rose and turned into a big applaud. We took flights. I followed!

Felt the air above and below the wings, the use of wings. The heaving in air with the breeze until a smile broke my frown. I loved it!

“No, Stop!” I woke up with one hand in the space, in an upright position to stop my parrot, my beloved parrot, from leaving me forever. It took me a while to break the reverie and realize that it was just a nightmare.  I didn’t even pet a parrot but there still was the clamoring from across the curtains, deep in the balcony. I slid it through to see a few parrots perched on various levels of grills trying to get a mouthful of the food and water that I had stacked up a week ago in a pair of bird-feeder hanging loosely on the grills for the birds to savor on.

I, now, had regular visitors – birds of various kinds and species – in the balcony ranging from a Sparrow to a cute Maina, to Pigeons and obviously Parrots. These birds filled my mornings with eclectic melodies. I gave them food, they made my day. It is delightful to have them everyday and know them more and vice-versa. Now, my presence don't scare them away. They know me!

After all said and done, what was that dream about?

Do I really wish to break-free myself and fly again leaving everything behind?
Follow Dreams? Like Parrots? Like birds?

Dreams, I tell you!