A MIDSUMMER AFTERNOON

It is a dull,boring summer afternoon.I have exhausted all my resources of occupying myself.I lie there on the cot,with the earphones plugged in,gazing nonchalantly at the fan whirring incessantly as it creaks.The sun outside is baking up the ground.The cement pathway is so hot that some of its inhabitant mongrels have taken shelter under parked cars.The cars themselves,are not doing too well.I can see dust,grime and crow shit baked on them.they look like they could do with a cold shower.These are some of the unfortunate ones.Others like me,have a more comfortable life.They sit at home,listen to music,have a nap......not exactly.


IT is difficult to stay at home in such times.At least for me,its true.So why is it so?? My father always-like many other fathers-talked about how he spent his childhood struggling.He regaled me with stories of how they never had all the comforts that we have.How he would go to some richer neighbour's house if he had to watch a match on doordarshan.How he would never get any toys and had to put up with playing with homemade stuff and trees outside the house.Well,for all those people who think youngsters today have it easy?? think again.


Look around you.It is summer.schools,Colleges are closed.Yet there hardly are kids playing outside.Well for a start;Dad; there is no OUTSIDE.Our building ends right where the next one begins.You could pass the curd in my house to the neighbour and hardly spill a drop.Well,such closeness also has its benefits....Coming to the point,Kids don't have playgrounds like they had it in times yore.As for trees.The only ones left in this city are 'endangered species'.
When we play on the streets to avoid breaking our neighbour's glasses,you stop us saying "It is Dangerous".In such troubled times gadgets are the only solace kids have.At least we can beat the Australian team on the PC.

Even the use of gadgets is highly overrated.To be honest,I am around 20 and the most complicated gadget that I have used is a cellphone.Not all have playstations and Xbox 360s lying around.Even if hey did,living in my part of the town you are wont to have it lying in dust .We don't have electricity for 6-8 hours AT LEAST.(Mind it!I don't live in a shanty either.)So I can't use my 'gadgets' for long enough to waste precious time.

Third,no young boy of 20 years age can afford to stay at home playing.Not that the younger ones do.Half of my friends are busy in their jobs,careers,getting on with life et al.The younger ones -The ones I bully,at least try to- are off to coaching classes.I am curious.Many are busy preparing for the next year of exams.I never prepared for the exams before the penultimate day.

That leaves me alone.The daydreamer,stays at home writing nonsense on his PC.Such that only like minded people like to read.Mom shouts from the kitchen to make me sell the papers and useless items and get some change.I try to ignore her.But it is hard to do that when she comes out with a metal tongs in her hands."Do that and get me some groceries,or forget your coffee",she warns me.Whoever said that youngsters today have it easy.....Dad,you were lucky

Over The Top

I stood there on the ledge.Alone,Desperate.The wind blew hard in my face;as if to dissuade me.Below me,an endless trail of tracks snaked into the fast darkening horizon.The sun shimmered ominously in the twilight sky.Somewhere faraway,a lone canine called out to the pale moon.Soon,a chorus of howls inundated the chill air.My heart is beating so fast,I can hear it.I step down to calm myself.One look around the creepy,tattered bridge assures me that I am alone.The train shrieks as it passes below the bridge.Its rumble shakes the earth beneath my feet.

I toughened myself up.I had to do this.I climbed onto the ledge again.This time I was not alone.A lone night owl is waiting for a sight of its prey.He tilts his head and studies me with his bright round eyes.I avoid his gaze and concentrate on a more important job.I look down.It must've been thirty feet to the ground.One step ahead takes me thirty feet below,strange!!I push my stiffened body over the ledge.I can see the light of a train.Maybe it's an express one!Suddenly there is a creepy calm.I feel like I am falling into a vaccum.I hit the ground,without a sound.I feel nothing.My body is strangely limp.

I open my eyes.It is all dark around me.I try to stand up,but my back is killing me.My head shoots up instinctively.All I can see is an old fan creaking as it whirs on my room's ceiling.

Lage Raho.....

It is a busy traffic circle.Cars and bikes smoke past.Everybody is busy running from one end to th e other.Nobody notices him standing in the centre.An old,bespectacled man hunched on a stick;right in the centre of the circle.He has been standing there for a long time.I don't know why he hasn't crossed the road yet.Maybe that is not his purpose.The sun burns down with a purposeful vengeance.His bald head does not seem to be the best headwear to me.Birds,all kinds hover around him.He doesn't seem to care.And interestingly,neither do they.This strange view attracts a little girl's atention,as she passes by in a car.All she gets in return is a bark from her mother to keep her hands inside.The birds are very calm on his shoulder.Suddenly,one of them undergoes a minor'indigestion'.His expression does not change for a moment,his smile is unwavering.As if nothing happened.

It is an hour past and he still stands there.Steady and rock solid on his staff.A man is right next to him.He looks like one of those rich businessmen.He is puffing on his cigarette.Well,as if that wasn't enough,he has a mouth full of 'paan'.He sneaks a look around,like a thief about to pick a pocket,and spits.Right on the old man,leaving a red abstract stain on his dhoti.Not even a sorry muttered.I look at the old man,for some expression of anger.I am disappointed.Not a wince,his face is stoic.I know it now.He is one of those pacifists,who would bear every oppression in staunch non-violent manner.I knew if this guy had the strength,he would have cleaned the stain and smiled at the 'culprit'. GANDHIGIRI - They call it.All philosophical nonsense.Who will bear everything bravely,without getting angry,cursing or hitting his opponent?I won't.Some boys pass him.Raucous and screeching in mirth.One of them imitates him and gives birth to a new joke.They throw away empty packets of biscuits at his feet.Immediately three scourging mongrels pick them up and run away.Wish some of us had the decency they have.I decide to leave the old man alone and concentrate on my lunch.

I decide its time to get home.I walk past him for the last time.The plaque beneath him reads -MOHANDAS KARAMCHAND "MAHATMA" GANDHI -FATHER OF OUR NATION.I smile at him.Wonder if this was the nation he wished for,dreamed of,gave his life for?Only if he had a voice.If only he could speak.....again.

Na Poocho Dard Bando se
Hasi Kaisi Khushi Kaisi
Musibat sar Pe Rahti Hai
Kabhi Aisi Kabhi Kaisi.

The Long Drive

I got into the rickshaw.It already had two passengers.A girl my age and an old uncle. The rickshaw-wallah looked back and said,"Meter pe chalega(Pay according to the meter)." I nodded my head before asking him,"Meter toh chalega,na?(At least the meter will work)".He smiled.Thus the drive began.

I was returning from college after writing my exams.I guess the paper wasn't too easy,which is why I skipped my walk home and got into the rick.The rickshaw is a very quaint little thing.Though I do not take it very often,it is something I enjoy riding in.Better than a car or a bike.Maybe because I feel safer in it.The ride home is a long one,the driver knew this better than anybody else.Sensing two young people in his 'Feraree',he switched on the FM.The speakers behind us blared,for a minute the world went silent.The poor uncle could not help but mumble in irritation.He glared at the driver,who oblivious of his doingsang along in merriment.I could not help but smile.Well,I loved the song.The uncle caught me in the act,glared at me.I looked the other way.

Halfway through the journey now.We were past the ever ensuing traffic of the main road and on the last stretch home.This was the rougher part of the road.The rickshaw wallah seemed very confident of his driving skills,the uncle wasn't.In the meanwhile he(driver) turned to me and started alking India's chances in the world cup.I,for a moment was caught unawares.Then taking a cautious approach,I expressed a positive wish that maybe they might just make it this time.People can be real sensitive about cricket in this country.He laughed.My bluff was called.I had no choice but to argue in support of the topic.I was facing a tough opponent.He seemed to know every flaw that Sunil Gavaskar and Vengsarkar might have ovelooked while selecting the team.Suddenly the wise old man spoke up beside me.Well,the debate got tougher coz,he belonged to the generation that had seen the cup home.He started comparisons of the present team and "victorious" one.The rickshaw driver decided to take the safer side.The girl,who somehow seemed familiar,was worrying sick lest the driver should bang the convoy into an oncoming divider.We three were unaware of her fears,and perhaps a little insensitive too.I know exactly what she might have thought,"MEN",just like mom and many other unfortunate women do.

We reached home finally.I got down and paid the fare and bid farewell to my entertaining friend.The uncle warned me to watch out for his predictions.The driver grinned and asked me when the matches will begin.I informed him the dates.Just as we were about to leave,the last member of our party remarked the silliness of the whole debate.The driver snapped,"You would never know",and sped off.She looked at me in surprise.I just shrugged.

IN a country where the pitches carry the name of the 'Caesar' Sachin,followed by the 'Triumvirate' of Dada,Jammy and 'the new kid' Dhoni;cricket is more than just another sport.It can make friends,enemies.It is a religion that runs much deeper in our bloods than any other thing.

MOM

She stands there in the kitchen,cooking,unaware of the importance of today.For her it is the same,every day,every month,every year.I don't know when I met her.They tell me it was in the hospital.I was a little pink mass of flesh;wriggling and bawling loudly.I ask her about it and she smiles proudly.I love the way she does that.Not that she looks awesomely beautiful,the wrinkles all over her face are ugly.

I was always afraid of her.Maybe,afraid is not the right word.I can't remember an accurate word,but it was not a fear.It was something of a respect.I still remember the times when she spanked me for not doing well in my tests.She would hold me by the wrists,and hit me on the knuckles.I don't think it was of much use,but somehow I never got angry at her for doing that.
I don't think she ever grew tired of me.She would diligently wake me up,bathe me,and drag me to school.With me it was never that easy.I would bawl all the way up the hill.She would always promise me a chocolate if I behaved well in school,I remember that.But she would never give me any.Instead she would roll out some balls of jaggery and give it to me.I loved those days,when she would place me on the ledge and feed me.She would never eat before feeding me,and still does not.As I grew up,she was the only one who supported me unconditionally.

I disappointed her a lot.In my late teens,I quite lost an interest of studies.I did very badly.She was suffering a lot within her heart.My father gave up on me,she didn't.Even now,when I refuse to do anything that my father tells me,She holds him back.Then she would convince me,somehow,to do it.Maybe it is in her blood.That amazing power of persuasion.She has never changed since then.

My family has been through good times and bad times.But I was never a part of it.Even when we were in a financial crisis,she never flinched.She knew to utilise her resources.She would take tuitions throughout the day.I guess she had enough experience teaching a bad child.Our single room flat would be covered with children sprawling all its length and breadth.Even when I took up a part time job in my vacations,she said I could continue as long as I was able to manage my studies comfortably.You should have been there when I gave her my first salary,she was beaming.

I haven't lost my admiration for her.She still goes about doing her chores ritualistically.She has grown older,maybe a little weaker.But she is the same woman.My mother.

The Book Of Knowledge

The book lies in my hands .Closed,ruddy and old.It has an ancient feel about it.I do not remember exactly when was the last time when somebody read it.but I guess it must have been a very long time,an year to be precise.I remember buying it from the old dusty shop in a bylane beside my college.I wasn't very enthusiastic about buying it.But my father had forced me into it saying that he wanted to see at least one book of my syllabus in my bag or else...He never finished the sentence,I didn't give him a chance to.I grudgingly spent thirty bucks on it.And then forgot all about it.

This always happens with me,buying a book and never using it again till the last day of my examination.Not that I am not a book lover.I love books - Novels,Comics,Stories etc.But books reccomended by teachers for the improvement of your knowledge in a particular subject,Nah.All year I spent my time roaming in the corridors,bunking lectures,arguing with my lecturers.It was there all the time,even when I almost failed.It watched every move of mine with an overbearing patience.As if it knew exactly when i would come to it.It waited.And it was right.

I was tensed.I had to find it.If not risk failing the examination.That would be a lot more dangerous than it sounds.I looked for it desperately.My drawer is not the easiest place to search for a thing,but I ha no other choice than succeeding.I found it at last.Resting between an old diary and the cluttered books.It felt priceless.I had never experienced this feeling,not even when I bought it.I was happy.I looked at the book.I felt like it was smiling at me too.As if saying,"I knew you'd come looking for me."

The Room Beyond The Dark Corridor

The sun was in its prime outside the room.The feeling inside the room was not the same.There were about twenty boys and girls assembled.Each one seated nervously in his place.The tension in the room was mounting every minute.But not a word was uttered.Other than the ocassional sound of paper being flipped over,or the tip-tap of the pen on the desk,silence prevailed throughout.Time pased without any incidents.There would be an odd whisper here or there,but it would be silenced as soon as the clip-clop of the supervisor's footsteps would near.The sparrow was the only living being that had the courage to annoy him.It flitted from the huge tree outside,to the sill above the blackboard.As if in a show of disdain,it would drop pieces on its way.The odd peon would peep in with a cup of tea for the examiner.The examiner would look around the room in a sweeping glance and accept it.The boy in the first bench looks at him.The thirst is evident on his face,but he will have to wait.There are a few people like me in the room who are keeping an eye on every movement in the room.The girl on the bench next to me is irritated by the sound her bench makes every time she pressures her pen.The clock is ticking away in its own monotonous way.

The silence is killing me.I have a very strong urge to scream,tear my paper and storm out.It is impossible,I say to myself.I look at my paper.The blank reflection of my mind stares back at me.The boy in front of me is furiously scribbling away in his paper.I tap him on the shoulder.He refuses to look behind.I can't afford to quit.He irritably shakes his head,as if to ward a annoying fly away.I leave him alone.I look behind for a stray sign of hope.The person behind me might be friendly.He flashes me a huge grin.I get the point.He knows as much as I do.I return to my paper.If ever I read greek,it was now.The examiner,who has been watching me,as much as i him,smiles.It is a sly one.That of a hangman waiting for his prisoner.I glance at the clock again.It warns me that there are only fifteen minutes left.I scribble whatever I can imagine.As the bell nears,the tension reaches a feverish pitch.People are now scribbling as fast as they can.The speed of one girl is bothering me.Her pen might burn her paper up.Even the examiner increases his steps.He sets around distributing threads to tie the supplements.He doesn't bother to stop at my bench.Suddenly a deafening sound erupts.People look up as if waking from a hypnotised sleep.The emotions on everyones face is varied.One boy looks as though he just lost his girlfriend,while another is as smug as the one who got her.The papers are snatched,and assembled on the table.Whispers ,loud and audible begin to float around.The examiner asks everyone to get out.

I step outside.The sun grins widely at me.He does not know how it feels.He wasn't there.Inside the room beyond the corridor.

English Literature - Do not opt for it

What a day!Phew!!Its Examination time,and houdini like the rest of his clan is very busy studying.Yes!Even Houdini needs to study,though he still needs a miracle to pass.Today was one of my more dangerous assignments - ENGLISH LITERATURE.What is so dangerous about it?Reading poetry might sound a great idea to woo your girlfriend,but it is not the same for literature students.We look at a poem not just for its lyrical beauty,but also for its metre.Before entering this class I had no idea about how many poetic forms there were in this language.All I knew was that poetry would have 'rhyming' words and a musical note,and prose does not have that.Some knowledge of poetry I gained from a very strange book.You might have heard of it.It was "The Da Vinci Code".Remember the 'IAMBIC PENTAMETER'?yeah,it is a form of poetry where the syllables in every line are grouped together at the metric scale of five(penta).There are other forms like The Dramatic Monologue,The Petrarchan Sonnet,Elegies(sad ones),and Epic Poems.To remember all these forms along with the complexities,and their rhyme schemes is a herculean task.Not to mention that we also have to remember the more famous poems of each form,their literary importance and their poet's background.I love poetry,to be honest.I just don't like looking at it with a magnifying glass.It is like the engineer,who looks at his ferrari examining its flaws.I mean,come on!!Its a ferrari....sorry,beautiful poem.Look at its lyrical beauty,applaud the excellent and ornate words,rejoice in its meaning.Don't ask me to write a three page explanation on why Tennyson's "Ulysses" is better than Elizabeth Browning's "The Musical Instrument"or vice versa.It takes the entire fun out of reading verse.Of course,professional and better literature students would disagree with me.

A study of Literature,especially English,would be incomplete without the study of novels.We have the famous "Pride and Prejudice" and Thomas Hardy's "Tess of the D'Urbervilles".Honestly,I hate 'P & P'.It is a totally girly novel.Well,I understand it is of great historical importance.I beleive,it was the first novel written by a woman to have acquired such fame and rung in the advent of women novelists.Even then,it is downright silly for me.Thomas Hardy though occupies a much better stanin my eyes.I hear shouts of MCP!!No,listen it is just because I like tragedies much better than happy endings.Pessimist am i??I personally feel,that Hardy had the courage and conviction to take a different path and succeed as compared to his peers like Dickens and Thackeray.His total opposition of the belief in a 'omnipotent,benevolent and omniscient god'attracts me.In fact,he calls god the "First Cause" i.e the major imperfection which is the cause of misery.He goes on to add that destiny,not character,is the cause of human misery,one of his quotes in my book reads "Man can do what he wills,he cannot will what he wills".Another describes the ever present cruel and merciless society aptly saying,"Happiness is but an occassional episode in the general drama of pain". Interesting ain't it??
IN fact his writings caused such discomfort in the orthodox victorian society that his books were often treated as sham.His sympathetic portrayal of the 'fallen woman' in 'Tess....' evoked severe criticism.Its subtitle of "A Pure Woman" raised quite a few eyebrows.Now tell me?Do I wrong in placing him above Jane Austen?Well,I do place Jane Austen above the Bronte sisters and Mrs.Gaskell.But I love Thomas Hardy.

Apart from this we do have a detailed study about the backgrounds of the 19th century literature.From the Victorian Age,back to the Romanticists and the Classicists.This part is tough.We have a complete and perfect mixture of history,sociology and politics in these chapters.We have to study what went on behind the scenes as these famous authors and poets were busy in their drawing rooms on their 'little ivory'.It is all very important though,from the marks point of view.

Now,the question is why am I telling you all this?Because......I had my exam today and messed up real bad.My chits were bad enuf and the guy sitting in front of me was a real bozo who wouldn't show me anything.Now as I am home,my brain has just awoke and realised that the data stored in that unused locker for a long time,might actually have been of some use.Hence,I write this post so as to prove that I do have some knowledge about literature.Also,in a vain hope that if ever my english teacher does look into blogs,she might give me some grace marks.

Ma'am,please have mercy.Don't look at the visitors page and judge me. Remember


Admit that Homer sometimes nods,
That poets do write trash,
Our Bard has written "Balder-Dead"
And also Balder Dash

PS: That is not mine.It was written by Matthew Arnold.I just 'wikied' it.

In control (It is a delayed post)

Finally,I am here to write something .It has been a very busy week for me.I have been staying at my uncle's housefor quite a while now.I suppose it has been a long time,so long that his son's might be wishing me to get out(jus' kidding).MY parents don't worry much.For them,its heavenly to find me missing.The news is that the parents of this house have been out of town for a week,and asked me to come and 'babysit' their kids for a while.I am not very good with kids,but when they are as tall as me,maybe taller,it helps.though their brain works at the same level.

Running a household is a very difficult job.No one knows it better than women.In my heart,there is no one who holds a position higher than the women of our family.With kids like me and my brothers around,I don't think they will have much spare time.That is why I do not bother them when they watch serials of regional 'Ekta Kapoors'.Anyways,as we decided to take things under our control,they knew that things are going to go out of control.After dropping them off at the station,we rushed home to enjoy our newly found independence.


the next day morning the sun came up pretty early.The milkman rang the bell.We got into the daily chore segment.I packed them off to college and office respectively,and decided to go to college JLT.As evening arrived,we looked around the dirty and desolate place,grimacing at the jobs we now had to do.FYI,we haven't swept the house for the last six days.walking around in an inch of dust is queer,but you get used to it.That evening,one of us took on the kitchen.Just to make sure he does not mess up our digestive system,I decided to keep a watch over him.He did well,to my surprise.

Well,in all we were able to stay alive till the pro's arrived.They were happy we were ab;e to hold fort,to a degree better.NOw,we are all well fed for the last two weeks.

Happy valentine's Day! ..... Really????

Sorry for the long lasting delay.The past two months have been really hectic for me.I've been roaming around.Don't even think about asking me,where I was.The story is long enough to be made into a bollywood movie.Let's return to the present.For those who've forgotten,yesterday was valentine's day.A day for love,joy and rejection!!No,my dear reader,I haven't been among those unfortunate few who have been mercilessly and fortunately side-stepped by the oposite gender.I am talking on behalf of all those stupid friends of mine,who have been crying since yesterday evening.My shirt still has salt stains on it.I do not know if they come off!!

Love is such a foolish thing.I am not a romantic at heart.Nor will you be if you had seen the world the way I do.The info i got from my friends is that St Valentine actually was killed on this day.So,what are we celebrating exactly??Love,right,but did not st Valentine,the earthly minister of cupid die ? Anyways,what do I care for.But for my friends,this is the day they await all year long.Well,they only look at it as a day of complete freedom where your teachers won't snarl at you whn they find you out of the classroom.It is the day they magically acquire teh courage to speak to any girl they like.Impressive,I say.No matter,if you are embarassingly asked,"Do I know you?", or the more common, "Excuse me!".Most of them hardly get to hear the voice of their crushes.All they hear is ,a big bang - of the slap.

This might have ambarassed anybody else.An ordinary mortal would have blushed beetroot,and got his legs working.Not my friends.Oh boy....sorry....Oh boys!!They were shamelessly in love,or that is what they said.Some were even more interesting cases.Like one of my classs mates,finally puckered the courage and took his sweetheart out on a dinner date.The venue was good.The food delicious.After a great evening,as he tried to speak,she stopped him by saying,"Thanks.But I do not like you the way you think I do."And she gracefully left,leaving him a hefty bill to pay off.Poor ol' boy,had to pay up as well as accept the ignominy of rejection.

Before you peope think that I am making merry of my friends sorrows,let me warn you that some of them still have to pay my money back.all I am trying to say is 'Why do only boys face this problem?'.Hey,hold your feminist horses!!!I am not against women.I can't be.I have a lot of sisters.Beleive me,they are quite a handful.All I say is why does it always have to be the men who are sorry.Think about it.Has your GF ever taken you out on a dinner date and paid the bill?Has she ever tried to woo you?Lemme guess,NO.You gotta give it to them they are smart beings.They lure you into the trap and then when you have been entirely used like a chewing gum,they spit you out.The fault is not theirs.Idiots, like my friend, always give them a impression of their own foolishness.So much for suavity and gentlemanly behaviour.
They walk around like flies around a dirty frog.Waiting to be eaten up.
This is why I do not celebrate valentine's day.Hey,its not that I do not get te chance to.My aloofness and mysterious characteristics,do attract a few flies.But I do better to ward them off.For all those of you who succeeded,Beware!You still have time to escape.For all those who didn't,may the good lord keep your souls.

Happy Holidays

Guys.....friends....HELLOO...,yeah bozos.I'm talking to you.Listen up.I'll be out of town for a few days so u might find this space empty.The mission is....dangerous,I'll let u know more when I get back.That is 'IF'. ;- ))

The Stranger I know

He stands there on the footpath,unkempt,dirty.He looks at me with a disdain,as if it is I who am polluting this planet.He bursts out in a rambling song about the troubles of his life.Many disturbed eyes cast an ugly look on him.He might be a thinker for all you know,a poet maybe.The fruit vendor down the line does not think so.He shouts at him for scaring away customers.His gait steady,head held high he walks away.You ought not to think that he is scared of a fight,he just does not stoop so low as to.He catches me staring at him and smiles.A smile of knowing,that of one who is wise.He does not ask for money,but never says no to it.The crowd of humans going to catch their regular train do ot pay much attention to him,he does not care.He sits down there.Unbeknownst to him,a white pooch is nibbling away at his food.He lovingly feeds it.Probably out of brotherly love,or maybe out of sorrow that it is among the last living being to love him.

I see him there very regularly.He never is missed,but he never is missing.Some people ignore him,while some others hate him.Like the constable,who never misses a chance of hitting him with his baton.Hitting a 'human pillowcase',does not hurt anyone.Anyways,who's gonna complain.His frustration vented,he leaves the 'filth' in a heap;crying.For you,this is insensitive.For him,this is life.

His pain subsided,he gets up.Hunger is a more powerful motivator than fear.He asks the shopkeeper for food,only to be rebuked heavily.He laughs the pain away.He satsfies his rumbling stomach,by drinking water from the tap.The tap is as full of water as his mouth is.He curses and goes away.I watch him for a while,till my bus arrives.As I board the bus,my eyes search the road for the familiar stranger.He is still there.Standing on the footpath.Unkempt,dirty.

My best friend.....

I see him everyday.At least once in every six hours.He is about the same height as me,in the same age group.Everytime he sees me,he has this odd twinkle in his bespectacled eye;as if he knows what I am going to say next.We don't speak to each other most of the time,we don't need to.Only on occassions when I am very nervous or excited do I open up to him.He is a very kindhearted boy.He is always there,whether I look for him or not,I know.My friends say he looks just like me,I disagree.I am not so naive.Agreed he has the same hairstyle as me,though I look much better in it.His fashion sense is good,but untidy.His face sports an unshaven look,which does not suit him.It does not matter to him.He is a rebel.

I see him everyday.Dressed almost the same way as I would,he looks pretty smug.I do not know much about his nature,but my friends say he is a bit of a softie with a tough heart underneath.It is strange how we have a common circle of friends but still do not know each other well.At the first look he is like any other ordinary guy with a slightly freckled face.He does not look like a very shy or introverted person.But I have a feeling that he is a bit insecure.He is very thin for his age,probably has bad eating habits like me.Or maybe something is eating him up from within.On the first glance you might call him my alter-ego,but the chances of you seeing the both of us together is far and few between.

I see him everyday.As though he knew what I knew.How I wish I could decipher that look on his face.Is it the joy of knowing some secret of mine?Or is it the pain of his own sorrows?Maybe it is that reading look which he uses to judge my character?No,the half smile suggests an admirer in him,maybe? Ohh!How I wish I knew what he was thinking.Maybe he will tell me if I ask him?No,he turns his back on me.He is a mystery.

I see him everyday.He looks at me and grins.His half white teeth,have grown oddly giving him an almost fearful yet childish look.He blinks his eyes giving me the signal that my choice of apparel is good.We part,as always, in opposite directions.As I think of him,a sly smile crosses my face.I have known his existence since a very long time,yet through all these years his behaviour towards me hasn't changed one bit. My friend,my alter-ego,the companion of my soul........The boy in the mirror.

Purged of my sins

I am not a very devout person,so when my cousin invited me ..or rather impored upon me to accompany him to a temple on the outskirts of this huge metropolis,it would be an understatement to say that I was apprehensive.What weakened the faith more was that the plan was to hit the road by 5 am.Forget IT!!! No way am I going to be able to do that.Not if the great god himself lands up and pulls mme out of bed is it possible.The guy was unmoved by such dramatics.We are going,he said laconically.The trip was to be kept short,sweet and fast.I looked up and said "dude!wassop? what are you planning?".We went to sleep very late that night,i think at 12.As my thoughts drifted I knew the impossile task that awaited me.

BZZZZZZZZZZ!!!The damn alarm went.Groggily,I searched for my mobile(I've kinda grown fond of it now;-) ) It showed 4.25 am.I looked around.The room was very silent,except for the occassional creaking of the fan and the lonely rat looking for food,nothing stirred.I knew it, No idiot in his right mind is going to wake up so early and leave,of all places,to a temple.Such acts are left alone to the elderly of the house.I couldn't hold out for much long,a small nap and i would be fine;I thought.when I awoke to my dear brother trying to shake me like a medicine bottle,it was 5:15 am."We're late",he whispered.Yeah right!I said to myself.He asked me to hit the shower.The bathroom is a very cold place in the early mornings.....who am i kidding?It was just 4 hrs past the night.I anyways hate the idea of taking a bath,and the prospect of doing so in cold weather was bone-chilling.I gingerly stepped into the wet marble floor.A shiver ran up my spine.I checked the temperature of the water.Just as I thought,it was lukewarm,not enough to warm an ice cube.The best part of closed doors is,no one knows for sure whether you did bathe or not.after a few splashes of water on my face,I stepped out only to be greeted by a blast of chill emanating from the fan.Drats!!We dressed up fast and ventured outside.

The outside was as silent as the inside(though i prefer the latter for its warmth). As we braved the morning chill,I was trying to imagine the thoughts of my company,what in heavens is he thinking??it looked like I was not the only one.He had called on one more of his friend along.Right,so the trio set off.A strange sight we made on the desolated strip of raod.We hailed a rick and got in.The rickshaw driver was in a jolly good mood,as he sped like michael schumacher on a empty main road.By the time we reached the railway station,I was beginning to feel the chill.The train sojourn was worse.Beleive me,when in the very early mornings the train is careening through dark trails and the cold,merciless wind cuts at your face;the last thing you want to do is hang at the door.Brrrr!was it cold.We picked up a fourth passenger at my home station.We knew each other well enough to be on first names,me being the youngest in the group.We reached the destination in a quarter of an hour more.

The temple is pretty far away from the railway station,the choices of travel being a rickshaw or a buggy.We chose the former,much to my discomfort.All through the journey the driver had his eyes more on my white face and knuckles than on the road.looked like my discomfort was very amusing to him.We approached the temple after buying something to please the deity.The task is not easy,the god being an elephant one (we love animals).I found surprisingly(sic) that the temple premises were very much empty.We finished the visit fast,except that salutation part.As the others sat on the floor in order to meitate a bit,I dozed off.If it wasn;t for my brother who tapped me,I would have made a joke of myself.The best part is,he thought that i was deep in prayer,the good lord bless him.When we decided to head home the sun was up and beginning to shake out of his slumber.I never spoke of my discomfortas the others ha goals in their hearts,(good boys).I went home in dire need of a soft bed and some dreamy sleep.I wasn't dissappointed.

To Hope

I am posting a beautiful poem by John Keats today.This poem is all that a optimist thinks and romanticises.I thought it would be good change from boring,and drab prose.Hope is what keeps people going on,in the most difficult times.Ask me,I know about it.Read on and hope


To Hope....by Keats

Whene’er the fate of those I hold most dear
Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow,
O bright-eyed Hope, my morbid fancy cheer;
Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow:
Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!
Should e’er unhappy love my bosom pain,
From cruel parents, or relentless fair;
O let me think it is not quite in vain
To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air!
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!
In the long vista of the years to roll,
Let me not see our country’s honour fade:
O let me see our land retain her soul,
Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom’s shade.
From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed -
Beneath thy pinions canopy my head!
Let me not see the patriot’s high bequest,
Great Liberty! how great in plain attire!
With the base purple of a court oppress’d,
Bowing her head, and ready to expire:
But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings
That fill the skies with silver glitterings!
And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;Brightening the half veil’d face of heaven afar:So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed, Waving thy silver pinions o’er my head.

Reminiscing the past

"Life is a very long journey for people to travel alone",that is what my pa always told me.The reason he used to say that was,in order to make me mingle with kids my age.I remember that I was a very closed book.I had no friends in school,in the colony i lived in,anywhere else.The only people with whom I got together with were my cousins.Those were different times.Yup,I was such a kid.

When I was in the higher secondary, i was very small.Literally.The tiniest guy in class.Add a pair of spectacles,and you get the ideal punch bag.I was pushed and shoved around by a lot of people.The teachers did take my side,but that earned me more taunts than rewards.I lacked confidence.I was scared and insecure.As i grew up, i realised i wasn't as tall as other boys in class. I was also a cry baby ( It is kinda difficult putting this on my blog),believe me.Till the age of 16,I never went out with my friends,or anybody for that matter.Horrible days those were.

Then something changed in me as I reached my final school year.Maybe the faith in myself.I don't know honestly.I decided that if i can't have what i want,I'd rather make most of what i have.I analysed myself.I was good at studies,not very good but good enough.My english was above average(for people in small towns ,its an advantage).I decided to make full use of them.I realised there are people in my school who needed help in studies.I took them under my wings ;-). Soon my popularity grew.By the time I left school,people were interested in what i wanted to be.I did not know.I still don't.

In my first year in college I wasn't that well known,though I had friends who were.I tried to show off my prowess but was snubbed.Though I didn't lose hope,I wasn't exactly high either.The second year was worse.I failed.The slide began.

I spent two years out,doing nothing.Yes,I worked for a while,but most of the time was spent pondering why?,how? People sympathised with me and laughed behind my back.I,myself wallowed for some time in the self pity.Then a thought crossed me,why am i worried?I wasn't this bad before,I am still not the worst around,so why worry.I decided to fix things.With a lot of help from people,I did fix things.The next morning had come.

Today as i sit here filling this post,I cant help but think how much i have changed as a person.My schoolmates often do not recognise me,but i do.Of myself,I am proud(vain).I have not accomplished anything,i still don't know what i want to do.yeah,I wanna be a journo,but I got no idea how i am going to do that.Maybe i will be that,or maybe not.But then,I wont stop trying.Maybe i am not the best around,but I am what I am.I write this not as much for you to read,as for me to remember.Today I read Tennyson's poem about "Ulysses",I was inspired to write what I've written. Two stanzas of the poem still strike me in the heart,read on and introspect.

"How dull it is ever to pause,to make an end,
To rust unburnished,not to shine in use
As tho' to breathe were life"

The last one is
"We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven;that which we are,we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate,but strong in will
To strive,to seek,to find,and not to yield."

To strive,to seek,to find,and not to yield.Indeed!

The longest part

My schedule for the past few days has been going haywire.I have no idea where my studies stand in comparison with college lectures.I haven't hit the gym for the past few...weeks ..maybe.My brain is complaining that it hasn't been to work for a long time.That was what i thought when i decided to attend college today.

So late as I was, i got up and rushed to attend lectures.I had missed a couple of them already,so I hurried for the third one.I was climbing up the staircase when my friends called upon me.We are a pretty bad group,in the sense that we are never together.As I neared the classroom,i realised lectures had already begun.Our English Literature class has a variety of teachers.A teacher for each day,and every one as different from the other as chalk from cheese.My lecturer today was in a lousy mood,not that i would be able to tell if he were happy.He started droning about a long length of comparisons between shakespearean tragedy and a Hardian tragedy.His long face surely added sincerity to the topic.We waited very eagerly for the bell to ring.One down two to go.

The next class i had to attend was the sociology one.I like this class better than the other ones,at least we are not forced to listen.We hardly have time to look up from writing.The teacher started dictating as soon as she entered.The only time she stopped was when somebody reminded her that she had yet to take the 'attendance'.AH!"Attendance",the only real reason for which people like me attend college.As soon as that was done,the 'train' resumed its journey.

The last lecture,quite literally, was that of sanskrit.Don't give me that look!!I had to take this subject as my second language or opt for marathi/gujarati/hindi.At least I am reading the indian equivalent of latin.Though i must confess,it is no different.Unfortunately I had to attend this class today.I sat down to listen to a story from the 'panchatantra'.Yaaaawnnn!Just before the moral of the story,the bell rang out.Sir walked out saying "Try not to yawn so loudly next time." Yeah,yeah,.Anyways that done I decided to leave for home.My friends wanted me to stay and join the cricket match,but my stomach was rebelling.

I reached home amid severe intestinal spasms.It is in such times that you would think the loo is a far better place to be in than heaven!!!Ahhh,to hear the flush is liberating,literally.But the pain has not yet subsided.I wil have to look for some of those 'old Grandma recipes' for 'tummy tucks'
So could you excuse me please!!!

Sleepless in Somaiya(Ayurvihar)

Boy what a harangueing 24 hours I have spent! I know that you people might have spent worse hours,but excusez moi,this is my blog.To really provide you with the full elements of the story,I'll have to rewind it to yesterday....No,maybe back to the 'Bone Corrector' issue.Right.On Jan 04 'o7,I had posted the blog on one of my cousins getting himself a fracture absolutely free(You ever in need of one.You know whom to contact...)This is the sequel to that post of mine.So here goes,

It began yesterday.I was suposed to visit the 'ol boy' in the hospital.It was heard that he was in pretty bad shape.add to it that the operation to be done on his structure was preponed.Suddenly there arose panic all around.People started off to the hospital.I had my college to attend to(an excuse always used wisely).I attended college,but missed the first two lectures(Surprise!!).Then,after all else was done and nothing else left to pass my time on,I decided to do some goodwill hunting.I planned on going to the hospital for the operation.Personally,I was a very frequent visitor to hospitals in my childhood.I spent most of my time out of school in hospitals.So I was looking forward to this visit.

The hospital is situated on quite a lonely spot,near a highway.I do not know why build hospitals in places that are acessible by a fast road and resemble haunted buildings in the night.Both equally deadly.Anyways,I reached there by about mid-afternoon,only to find that the 'Operation' had just begun.The wait had begun too.

All my relatives,well at least the closest ones were there.walking outside the corridor of the OT like it was a Bypass surgery.I watched all the elders worrying so badly,thst it even caused me to think that this is indeed a serious case.The nail-biting finally ended after about three hours.The operation was a sucess the Docs declared.At least they thought so.The fact was the patient has suffered a "multiple fracture".Hmm...looks like he is going to be in the sling for about a month or two.Now I don't wanna add that 'I told you so'.So,I keep quiet and make a sorry face.

Fixing everything in the hospital s indeed difficult.After arranging everything and making the patient(Who,all this time,had no idea what he was speaking.For a clue,neither did I???) comfy,we arrived at the 'Big Q'. "Who is to stay on for the night?".The parents of the child,were obviously very eager(Poor people),but for the sake of their health,the onus fell upon the youngsters.We,the young of this family are a very lazy lot.To add,the number of us present were apalling.Considering the person afflicted was one amongst us,and the conditions demanded us to be supportive.One is a 'GEEK' who is,you know what.The other one,his brother that is,was just back from work.Filthy,double crossing scum,because of them i had to stay back.The thought of staying back did not hurt me as much as the fact that I had to do it for the stubborn ass with a fractured arm.Hell!!why do these things always happen to me?

I readied myself for the night.The mobile that I got recently,proved a handy companion in the loneliness.Half the night was spent listening to Clif Richards singing 'A Girl Like You', the remaining half going around watching patients turn over.Then the nightmare begun.The patient awoke.He suddenly realised that the pain in his arm was killing,till then the existence of the same arm had been a well guarded secret.HE tried to change the position odf his arm,to reduce the pain(stupid),and I rebuffed him for doing so.Remember one thjing readers,Never teasee a wolf,that too a wounded one.I was on the other side of the saying now.The ****** didn't let me sleep at all the whole night.He was howling,raging,crying,and shifting his arm.I,on the other hand was trying to stop him from doing anything that would prove harmful to his arm.No you idiot,I wasn't trying to be the good samaritan,I was just scared hat if anything untoward happens,I would be the first one to whom all fingers shall point to.I was trapped.I rushed to the nursse,who gave him a sleeping tablet to ease his pain.That hardly worked.The rest of the night...or rather morning,for it was already past 2 am,was spent talking/arguing.By the time my eyes could get sleep,it was five am.

All this while,there wa a person right beside me,sleeping so soundly that it would not matter if hell broke loose upon him.He,I have to give it to him,is an early riser.He likes to see the sun emerge out of the horizon to wish him a good morning.The good fella was up and about by 6 am and in his enthusiastic style,woke me up.The anger I was experiencing cannot be subjected to words.But after all 'Words are all I have'.To put it in short,the act of sleep was something I did not experience today.


Later in the day,the boy needed to be uploaded with some amount of blood,to increase his strength.OH yeah! he needs strength.So we set about finding the cost.It was a bit too high on our pockets.So,we decided to get into Barter Exchange.Two of us were to donate our blood,in retaliation for the blood they give to our boy.What a bloody exchange!!Well,I was among the two of us who were party to this exchange.The rest I do not remember,but I guess I am spent writing this much.

The remaining story will be published in the next post.Keep reading.

Get a life folks!!!

I have done nothing for the past two days.Nothing at all :-)) I was suposed to attend college yesterday,but I never got up on time.I was also supposed to see off my friend today,which very clearly i am in no mood to do.I am in my laziest spell ever.So i am not going to fill anything todya.If you so want to read,read my previous post(I bet you'll sleep before you catch the end).

Bye

The Bone Corrector

Accidents are a part of day to day life in Bombay.We are among the most fearless and probably brainless people ever born.No,do not take me in the wrong ,but to be as fearless as we are,is a tad foolish.Take this for an instance,there are about 300 people who die on the central and western railway lines alone. This is excepting the number of road accidents,bomb blasts and building crashes.Yet people never change.The best example for this would be the much acclaimed act of hanging at the door in a moving train.This act finds equanimity among all the famed railway lines in this city.Of course there are people who participate in this act because they ahve no choice,and there are people who participate as they have pretty much ntohing else to do.Yes,they know about the risks and some have even stared at them in the face,but stuborn ass.... as they are,they won't change.Well,most of my people would be surprised to hear this coming from me,since I myself am a 'Footboard Traveller',but I too am a human.There are sometimes when I wish I hadn't done what I did,this is one such moment.

I speak of this because an incident has happened that connects me to this post very directly.My cousin brother,the eldest one of our generation,is quite an eccentricity in himself.When he got himself injured yesterday,the family didn't quite go berserk but on the contrary burst out laughing.It happened yesterday.I am staying for the past few weeks....or is it months... at my uncle's place in a suburb of this city.It was about 7.30 pm in the evening, me and the 'Geek' ( Hereforth I shall refer to him in that term only),were dong something...though I don't exactly recollect what.The knock on the door was answered,and we found the 'hero'of this plot standing at the dooorstep.

His appearance does not betray any sign of the pain he is suffering.Dressed in a cream shirt,he enters,holding his left hand across his stomach.The first question that was put forth to him was "Is your stomach aching?".Poor fellow,couldn't help smiling as he answered no.More prodding reveals that he has been hit by the 'inside pole' while climbing into the crowded dungeon of the train.It seems that he had noi choice but to hang on to the door for his dear life.In this process,he actually was pushed forcibly by the crowd;which caused his hand to hit the pole with such fiery intensity that he now can't lift it up to his nose to scratch it.Tchk,TchkTchk,poor ol' boy.He might have won sympathy,but not my confidence.I'll tell you later why.

Now,we had a problem on our hands.If injury wasn't bad enough,the protagonist is also among the best misers I have known.No,he is a good boy but a tad stingy about money.Fine,we said.Do not pay,but get yourself treated.NO,he replied defiantly.We waited as we could see him grimacing as the swelling on his arm,stung him.Finally,he relented.We took him to a GP,who immediately confirmed our doubts of the injury being that of a fracture.He,in fact,threatened a major one.He directed us to a orthopaedist,and asked us to get an X-ray done;pronto.

We hurried on to the hospital.All this while,our 'hero' was crying and cribbing the expenses he was going to incur on us.We were getting bored of it,I was so irked that I would have broken his second arm and gladly paid for his expenses.The thought that he is a weakling(at least then) stopped me.We got to the orthopaedic,and presented our sample to him.After a few twists here,a few tweaks there;which our patient bit his teeth through; he announced his decision.He had serious doubts about the fracture.Excellent!!We marched on to the X-ray department.

The X-ray technician was even more merciless as he pulled the patient's arm to adjust the position exactly beneath the light.HE seemed to be a perfectionist,as he changed the position twice or thrice,with our poor brother biting his teeth and struggling to maintain poise.Finally it was done.The technician vanished into his lab to wash,dry,and hang the final result.Surprisingly,it didn't take long for he was back soon.He held up the X-ray proudly and showed us the spot.The crack looked like....well a crack.We went back to the specialist.HE immediately scribbled something unintelligible in his pad,and handed it over to get from the chemist.Leaving our 'crack'there, me and the 'geek' walked down.

As we looked at the bill for the stuff,we realised that it would have been better that we had carried more cash on us.The need was urgent.So an SOS was despatched to a fellow resident.He arrived shortly.Together we waited as the doc worked on our protagonist.He emerged from the room,his left arm strapped in a sling.We decided to take him abck home.Surely,he needed a night of peace to get ready for what awaits him,when his father gets here.

I lok back at this incident and try not to laugh.The reason is,I have a serious doubt that he did not get injured while he was on the inside.According to me,he must have been hit by a passing pole while he was hanging on the door,more knowingly than forcibly.The reason I put forward to his denial of this fact is,ego.In fact,if I were in his place I would have done the same thing.It is much more embarassing to accept that you could not stand on the footboaard correctly than it is to acknowledge that the crowd was too much for you to handle.Anyways,FYI,the guy just got things complicated.The 'doc' in the house thinks he might have to insert a pin in order to fix the damage done.Well,think that would keep him off my back for about three or four weeks.Also,that should act asa deterrent to all those 'Footboard Travellers';including me; to stop acting cool and act smart.

As they say in the railway safety advertisement " Somebody is waiting for you back home."

A Tiresome Quest

It has been a horrid day.This I say out of feelings generated from the furthest bottom of my heart,which I sincerely doubt exists after all that I have gone through today.In India,we face administrative nonchalance everday.For people around me,it has become a thing normal.For me it is not so.I am a very headstrong and impatient boy.I am not proud of that,but I think that will aid you in picturing my this experience.

I went to college today.It had been a long time since I had been there and I thought it would do good to my reputation if I am spotted around attending lectures once in a while.I was half expecting my friends there,but was disappointed when none of those buggers turned up.Irked,I entered the college.Halfway up the stairs,it struck me to read the notice board.Call this intuition or anything else that you like,but it ws definitely no coincidence.The notice board is on the ground floor,right next to the office.I was casually glancing about when I came upon a seemingly harmless piece of paper,stuck on the right handside bottom corner of the board.It read

Dtd:16-12-2006

Students of FYBA/BCOM/BMS are hereby requested that they collect their Board certificates from the prayer hall and submit the same alongwith a xerox copy in the office before the 27th of December in order to obtain admisssion for the Second Year.If they fail to do the same,they are liable to lose their admission for the further year.

To say I was shocked would be an understatement.I jumped back from the noticeboard like it were a livewire.The scream emitted by the jock behind me was the only thing that brought me back to reality.Before he could catch me and erase any proof of my existence,I ran into the office room."Excuse me sir.I am an FYBA student.I am here to collect my Board certificate",I said.The clerk did not move.By now,I am used to this reaction but today was different.I knocked on the glass impatiently.He looked up with the ease of a tortoise,"Yeeess???",he asked.I grudgingly repeated my question."Happy new year",he muttered,much to my surprise.But before I could mistake his greeting,he broke in,"Where were you all these days??In timbucktoo?".I could see clearly that he was enjoying my plight.I decided to keep quiet and put on my most pitiful face and pleaded,"Sir,I am very sorry that I am late but could you please tell me where I could get my Board Certificate?"He finally grumble,"Ok,Ok.Go to the prayer hall.They will be distributing it there,But only till twelve and don't....".I did not wait for him to finish the sentence.The prayer hall was a large room on the first floor.I rushed upstairs

The prayer hall ought to be renamed.Students never attend the prayer meets and what they do attend cannot be called a prayer meet,not unless your version of the prayer allowed people to shout loudly from the back.I approached the room,which was in absolute mayhem.The cacophony of it was utterly amusing.By the picture the clerk below had painted for me,I was of the view that I might be the only irresponsible scum on the face of this planet who was collecting his certificate so late.But the sight of so many students scrambling over each other to have a look at the bundles sort of calmed me.By the look of it the peons were having a tough time handling the students.I patiently awaited my turn(As if I had much choice)

I approached the desk.The clerk was busy poring over the list of students."what is your roll no.?",he quizzed.I handed over my I card."Hmmmm..." fearing that pause of his, I was about to say something that he handed over a bundle of certificates and ordered me to search for mine in it.Two hours passed and yet there was no sign of my certificate.By now I was desperate.I looked again at him.He was already packing up for lunchtime.I was pissed,I asked him about what further steps I could or should take.He graciously asked me my seat number on which I appeared for the exam.The question left me dumbstruck.I had no answer.I gaped back at him.He asked me to 'go get it'.I aasked him if there was a choice,he happily replied in the negative.I returned home dejected.

I have a weakness,that of a very short and temporary memory.I entered my house with a fear that I might never be able to find the documents required.I ransacked my drawer spilling out all its contents,causing the house to resemble mount olympus in chaos.Imagining my mom's reaction to this,I decided to put it back.As I was doing that honourable act,I found my file hidden in the most obscure locations in the entire world - Between my books( A place I hardly look for).I packed my bag and waited for the ordeal that was to come tomorrow.

I woke up late the next morning.With mom not being around to wake me up,its difficult to be punctual.I checked if my documents were immaculate.I didn't want to give them a chance to send me back home again.I gulped my sugarless cup of instant coffee and left on my mission.

It looked like I had reached college pretty early.There were hardly any people around this time,save a few unfortunate ones who,like me,had missed their documents.I got my chance about ten minutes later."I card",the voice asked.I handed it over."Seat Number",was the next question.I replied,loud and clear."Fee receipt",he queried again.I produced it.By now,I was beginning to lose it."Wait for a few minutes", was what I next heard.Yeah,right!!As if I was doing something else till now.I waited with bated breath as he dived into a old bundle.Just as I was beginning to lose patience,Voila!!the man springs out with my certificate.It looks a bit ragged ,folded in bad designs,but thankfully its in one piece.I sign wherever he asks me to.Thanking him I move on to submit the form.

The office is situated at the ground floor alongside a corridor leading to the girls' staircase(Enticing;-0).Though i had much serious businesses to take care of.I entered the office room,only to find it deserted.I instinctively looked at my watch.It was five minutes to one.Hmmmphh.Irked as I already was,I had to wait,nevertheless,for people to return.I won't bother you with the rest of the story as I think you already might be wishing for this post to end.Anyways,its quite insignificant.The moral of the story (I have to say this) is,never expect your work to get done faster in any administrative department-government or private.

The past two days

It is 2-01-07. Happy New Year.That was a reminder that the year 2006 has become last year,lets move on.To where??To how I Celebrated My First Day Of The New Year.

I have a very cynical view about the working of this world and its inhabitants.So I do not think the way most people do.So the way I ushered in my New Year would be very boring to people like you.What matters is what I did in my New Year.

31st morning.Its D-day.Everybody woke up late.Usual for me.I had a place to go to though.Crap!People won't let you rest in peace,even on this day.The ocassion was of the marriage of my friend's sister.Hmmpph!To tell the truth,I hardly know her.I went there just for the sake of my dear friend,and of course the free buffet that he was doling out.You betcha!The food was lipsmackingly good.With,basundi,rasmalai,roomali roti,chan masala,alu palak,paneer tikha,salad,pasta,and the most necessary - Ice cream,I freaked out on the food.I didn't care if i was bed ridden for gastro-something,I won't be getting this opportunity in a long time.Apart from that it was a reunion for us guys.We are five of a group.Often,we never see each other's faces for a very long time.Maybe that is the secret of the longevity of our friendship.So all done,I moved on.On the way,we casually wished the bride and the groom.It is unlike us to carry any gifts,but we bought something easy on our pockets.

I got back by about three in the evening.I was tired already.I was hoping that there are no plans today.By the lok of the house,I judged that people were in no mood to party.I thanked god.I settled into an easy chair and dozed off.All those plans we made a day back,were washed of by a flood of surreal dreams.When I woke up,I found the scene changing.Suddenly one of my cousins said he'll be back and left.There was no sign of him fo the next six hours or more.The other,a geek,was sitting on the comp,true to his clan.I was now getting bored.I turned to my oldest companion and friend.The good old television.I sat and watched anything that was on.I hardly remember when I had dinner or the time I slept,but I do remember waking up the next day with an ominous feeling.

My head was numbly aching.The formal greetings over,we marched over to our aunt's place.Why? to wish them, silly!But contrary to the vibrant mood all around her,my aunt was ...well,to put it in a word "steaming".Actually,if you could revert to the flashback,you would have noticed me making promises about celebrating the New Year with everybody in tow.But promises are made to be broken.Unfortunately for her,my aunt does not believe in that.She fired left,she fired right,and we were sitting ducks.The only consolation bein that I wasn't the only one being fired.So much for being a close knit family.

My last year was spent the same way as this year,before the television set.Luckily for me,while all this was happening,my sister had gone to pick up her friend.We escaped unhurt.
So we sat down and planned as never before.The plan for afternoon lunch got cancelled,as we had lunch at home.So it was to be in the evening.

As evening neared,things began to get worse.My stomach started reolting to the food I had in the afternoon.Add to that the friend my sister was bringing along.So it meant that I had to behave.We left pretty late,so late that I was almost beginning to hope that we won't go.Where were we headed for?A hip place downtown, the plan was to hit a coffee joint and sit there.

We reached our destinations fast.As I sat down i realised that my bladder was full and on the verge of exploding.Damn!!The place looked pretty good,so I couldn't picture myself letting free in a corner.We searched around in vain.But then,loos in such places are hiden in obscure locations such that you never find one when you need it.I sat down hoping that my dam holds up.

We placed the order.It was a cofee joint so a cofee was in the calling,so were some pastries and desserts.But the surprise material was to be the Hookah. The hookah is an ancient form of smoking.It somewhat resembles a water pitcher with aa long pipe attached to it which supplies you with draughts of your stuff.We,being non smokers,chose for an ordinary mint one,though not entirely free of harm.I ordered a moroccan tea for accompaniment.MY bad!!The tea s{*#s.Man,was it bad! So i digged on the pastries and turned to the new and inviting prospect of smoking a hookah.

As I watched my more professional cousin blow puffs of designer smoke into the atmosphere,I was excited.It was a totally new experience!Though I felt the guilt of committing the sin,it vanished after a first few draughts.Now I know what smokers feel.I was almost addicted to it.We immediately had a competition on who could blow the best.I'll be glad to tell you that I wasn't the winner.The experiment had given me an elated feeling,and that is what saved me from feeling guilty about the bill.

When we were returning home,the elation vanished.My insides began to turn and churn whatever I had fed them.The moroccan tea felt like sour lemon on my tongue.My stomach felt very turgid.The bumpy roads were continually forcing me to throw up.I held my nerves and managed to reach home.Boy,that was a relief.Home cooked food tasted like heaven after Moroccan tea.Post dinner I realised that I had been strained of all my energy,I could hardly stay awake.

I fell off to sleep dreaming myself in a egyptian tent siping on a hookah and watching the Nile flow by.Then came the ............ Moroccan Tea!!!!

Happy New Year

Tomorrow will be the last day of this year.Preparations for the New Year are reaching a crescendo all around me.People are all ready to go out and party.Not me.I prefer the quiet sanctity of my house to anything else.Hey,even i have apointments to keep up to,but I don't think I'll be able to do justice to them.Well,we have planned something but I have an ominous feeling about it not going to work out.Any ways,to the rest of you guys out there

Happy New Year!!

I'll resume my writing from the New Year.It's my resolution ;-)

The View from Behind

There is something about man and machines that touch the deep instincts,regardless of their depth.I specifically stress on Man and Machine,as I don't know much about girls ;-) No,seriously.Look around you.You'll find teenagers zipping past in bikes,cars and rollerskates(the latest IN thing after Dhoom2).I mean....I don't understand.Why does everybody want to drive something?Strange.My friends drive bikes,cars,cycles and when they have time left,they drive me nuts.I,personally enjoy being pillion.It is a separate experience.

I do not exactly remember when,but I think it was on a cousin's bike that I got my first pillion ride.I was taken from the second I sat on it.It felt amazing.I jumped on to the bandwagon.From that day on,whenever somebody asked me,if I needed a lift I never said never again.I heard that!!@#^* I assure you I am not that lazy.I walk about a mile to college......whenever i go there ....in every......week.Coming back to the story...from that day on I loved anything with wheels on it.

My adventures with wheels began in my summer vacations after school.I was at my uncle's place and decided to learn the bicycle.It was a tough call.Basically,since I wore glasses.Yeah,I could hardly walk straight on my feet without them.But,I had decided.So,I started cycling.You gotta give it to my bros coz they hung on to me even at the cost of their bikes.I don't know exactly how many times I crashed it,but I guess it was a lot.I bumped quite a few people,some kids and hurt myself sore.Worst case....I broke my glasses,I didn't even have a spare back then.I had to spend a week walking like a blind man.In the end,my perseverance paid off.I had learnt to ride the bicycle.Though I lost interest in it very soon thereafter.Do I need to add,that my bicycle is still rotting somewhere.

I had grown up.No longer for me,the silly bicycle.I had my eyes set on bigger and better things.The noise of an engine vrrooming and revving up excited me more.I desired to learn to drive those mean machines.But as usual,soon lost the drive.I realised that driving required the usage of brains,which I HAD,but hardly use.So I concentrated on other means to enjoy a ride.Suddenly the benefits of being a pillionrider caught my eye.

Now look at it.Being a pillion rider is the easiest way to enjoy a long drive.Of course,you run the risk of injuring yourself worse than the driver and can hardly hear a word spoken by him(except in a car),but weigh it against the perks - Heckle the driver without a care,keep nagging him,take in the sights without a rush or worry,eat your snacks without having to hurriedly swallow them.See,such fun.Also the view is great.So who wants to drive,worry about the traffic,signals,etc.So since then,much to the chagrin of the drivers,I ride pillion all the time.

MATHS AND ME

Of all the subjects I have,or am suposed to have,studied in school,college tuition class etc there never was,is or will be one as hated and derogatory as MATHEMATICS!!No,really,I mean it.I know there are people that would be hurt to read this,but guys sorry.I have to tell the truth someday.

I was born a very intelligent kid,education ruined me and vice versa. Seriously,I was supposed to be the hope for the future (Hey!! that's what my parents told me). Sadly,I was put into a school.I did exceptionally well the first three years.My teachers beleived that I was a genius in the making,many of them adored me.I was an outstanding student,not the kind you think though!!

The slide in my form began when I was in the sixth standard.Until then,I had no problem with a commonly known subject named Maths.I had not yet come face to face with my arch-nemesis-to-be.Then I got problems in the real sense of the term.What with Simple Interest(which was in no means simple,nor did it raise any interest from me),Compound Interest ( All it compounded was my troubles), Vulgar fractions( true to its word).I took blow after blow. Round one - Maths.

Enter Higher Secondary Mathematics.My first Board Exams were in the offing.I pored over books day and night( all right ,not all the time).Maths, was one big pain in the wrong place for me.I grappled with problems of various complex algebraic expressions,lines angles and tangents.None of whiich had any use for me,at least none I could think of.Add to that all kinds of areas,surface areas,curved surface areas,volumes.I have no idea how I cleared my papers? The volume formulae were travelling at a parabolical curve parallel to my head by an overtly obtuse angle( HOW I LOVE THIS SENTENCE!!!).Trignometry passed me,like the bully in school,giving me dirty looks.I had an irresistible temptation to catch the textbook and rip it apart,though I never gathered enough guts to do it.I proceeded further in life,hoping I might escape the clutches of this devil.

College.A place where I assumed I would be free.A massive mistake!!I was about to face the more complex mathematical calculations of my life.Calculus,Derivatives,Integrals,trignometry and the Lord knows what!!Yeah,I know.Life is unfair.No prizes for guessing that I could not take it any more.I was knocked clean off my feet.One,Two,Three and Pinfall!the family was shocked.We never had such ignominy amongst ourselves.What would the world say!!I was stunned.Needless to say,I have recovered partially from that vicious right hook that the subject of mathematics gave me on that fateful day. Obviously,I cleared my paper later.And you are right If you guessed that I dropped the subject.Yup,I chose ARTS and turned philosopher(Everyone who suffers,knows about life's traps).

Since then,I have left all mathematical calculations alone in peace.Albeit some small ones are done by me,the rest I do not even try on the calculator.For me,some things are never to be.or to literally translate a saying in my mother tongue "If you see the devil,leave him alone".

I hate mobile phones

Till a week ago,I was among the lesser and deprived class.People looked down upon me,refused to consider me as an equal.I was pitied upon by some,criticized by others.NEvertheless,I stood out in my class.No,I still was not hte best student or the most honest either.I was the only one in my class,who did not have a mobile phone!!!

The mobile phone....I do not know hwen the trend began,but it spread rapidly.What with the falling prices of this seemingly hot commodity,people gave up the landline connexion as forgotten.All they use it for today is the internet,if at all they have a dial up connection.The mobile is one thing any young,old or middle aged person can't seem to do without.Everywhere i look,I find people insolently chatting away on their sleek gizmos.I wonder if they are the same people,who are so quiet when asked a question?Strange are the ways of the connecting-people.

One thing I grant this "mobile Revolution,it has broken down the divide between the classes namely - Upper,Middle,Lower.I remember last week,as I was going to collegewith my friend.He was fiddling with his plaything,trying to impress me with its capabilities.I was totally put off,since I myself did not have a mobile.The auto driver - May the Lord have mercy upon his soul - i suppose,sensed this.As we got down,the damn machine rang.My dear brutus,instinctively went for his only to find that he was at the wrong phone.The sound emanating was from the Rickshaw driver's pocket.I watched amused,as the driver picked it up,exihibiting the costly piece.That for you was a simple daily incident,for me it was an act symbolising how narrow the divide between classes has become.Of Course,I am speaking without the rural idea of the economy.But,you get the picture.

On the worse side,technology has its faults and harms,in this case greivous ones.I often see people garbling in their own inimitable voices near hospitals,schools even cemetaries,innocent of the knowledgeable harm they cause to people around them.These,however,can be forgiven in a metropol like Bombay,what really irks me is the drone of some insensitive idiot on his deary piece,when I,of all people I,am talking to him.Technology does not have a heart,it could not be more in your face.

I was a vehement opposer of this branch of technology,called mobile communications;till last week.If you had met me then,I would have proudly shown off that I have something you do not,freedom from a machine.I was a complete man,without a mechanical piece jutting out from my ears,or sitting heavily in my pocket for you to see.But Alas!!!I too fall.Aye,my dear friends,I too have a mobile today.I am now tied to forcibly listen to somebody garbling on the other line,wherever I may be,excuses of "weak network" notwithstanding.
I realise that now,more than ever in history,is man dependant on machines.Long far is not the day when machines will cease to be slaves,conquer and HG Wells would say,albeit smilingly,from his grave,"I told you so".

My thoughts about tranquility.

Its a very cheerful morning.The sun is shining high and bright in the sky,which looks as if somebody just painted it.People are on the run.Most of them have reached their respective offices and are going through the tasks that the day has set for them.Fortunately,I have nothingto do today.I guess,I am one of the few lucky ones who watch time rushing past them and never suffer the temptation of trying to stop it.For people like me,the sun always shines.

You might call me lazy,or even a day-dreamer,but as John lennon would add, I am not the only one.Personally I love lazing around,watching people hurry to keep up to their deadlines,struggle to fulfilll promises and suffer through hours of work.Of course,some of them love doing it.I know my dad loves working till he's absolutely drained.He says it helps him forget troubles and gives him deep sleep.Maybe,but I would still prefer taking things slowly.For,I love to live life as it was a precious vintage wine,Smell,feel,sip,and then feel.

My mom has always questioned my attitude.I remember her asking me to do things more seriously,I could not.I beleive life is too short to work very hard and too long to take a nap.Right now,I can afford to take a nap.as time,the ever cunning thief,passes me by, I as the others would be joining the mad rush - the rat race - as they call it.So don't be surprised if you would see me somewhere as a harried young man,working gruelling hours in an office.But then,maybe you won't see me at all.I wonder at the strangeness of people forgetting to realise the magnificence of nature,even man,as they run about doing their work.About a lakh of busybodies pass from the Victoria Terminus or the Mumbai Chattrapati Shivaji teminus,as it is called today,and do not notice the awing edifice that towers them.Most of them are busy enough hinking what mood their boss is in today.They do not realise that even in a very tense situation,little observations and sillythings might calm the mind and soothe the soul.Why else did Wilde say "To calm the senses by the soul,and the soul by the senses.That is the aim of life."

It is difficult to be like i am all your life,even for me.I might change,no,I know i will.All I hope for is that the change is not very extreme,that i may still withold the calmness to see all that is beauty in things.

Books.....Ah I love thee!!

Books are the best friends a man can get.Yup,you heard it right.don't listen to some stupid guy just for the sake that he's hung around with you long enough to be your coat hanger.Maybe,I should rephrase that sentence( You see..My friends visit this blog);-).BTW,where was I?Yeah,Books.As i was saying...boy,I sound like an intellectual already,You may go to a friend when he is free.At times,when your friends are out selfishly eating alone,you meanwhile are sitting in a dark corner of your room writing nonsense in your blog or just slumbering not knowing what to do,Books are the best support that you have.

The following content may be a bit silly and nostalgic.For all those people who hate reading,sorry.

I have been a voracious reader,the most exact definition of the word.My father being quite a literateur himself,initiated me into this magical world pretty early in my age.At three,as the restof the people my age were going goo-goo-gaa-gaa-giggle,I was s-h-itting over my pa's newspapers.Of course my mom was annoyed.she thought one literature buff was hard enough to contend with.I progressed pretty fast.At five I began speaking my first word in english Ma ;-).My father would bring me loads of comic books.These proved to be the first education I got in fictional literature.I vaguely remember poring over dozens of phantom,mandrake the magician,spiderman and old western comics.

As i entered school,I gobbled up the education offered to me,quite literally.Once i had to be rushed to the school nurse for swallowing paper.Though i changed later,my appetite for books remained the same.I graduated to reading Fab Four,Magnificent seven etc but my favourite still was the old peter pan book.Something of its dreaminess and fantasy attracted me.By secondary,the world had recognised my talent.Teacher's loved me,students adored me,my parents smiled at me.But then something changed.As i entered college,I fell prey to the temptations that freedom stood to offer.Although my marks fell,my literary knowledge was steadily accumulating.The college library was my place for sometime,here i read Gandhi,Ludlum,Isaac Asimov,HG Wells,Dickens,Hemingway.But my pick always was the"Bard".I beleived nobody portrayed human emotions as wonderfully as him.The jealousy of othello,greed of shylock,vengeance of hamlet,pride of caesar.

Then i failed my exams.I suffered ignominy for procrastinating my studies.I thought i could never be anything in life.Maybe I was to fail and perish in the sands of time,without leaving a footprint.But even then,my family,especially my dad,did not lose hope in me.I wanted to be a journalist(high hopes for pea brain),but they beleived in me.I used to read in the free time that i got.I read Mulk raj anand,RKNarayan,Paulo Coelho,John Grisham,Robin Sharma.I loved their books.I was inspired and passed my exam eventually.

Today,I am doing my bachelors in Arts,with English literature as a subject.I would not have dropped it for the world.I have been through different stages of my life.The spring of childhood,The summer of adoloscence,the winter of my teenage,the autumn of my boyishness and am at the threshold beholding the spring again.I have had my share of friends,some good,some better.But none as best as them from the world of books.I still haven't read all great authors and most certainly haven't heard many greater ones,but all of them will be there when i turn to them for help.BTW,I still am reading.I have progressed to Milton,Wilde,Tolstoy.But the feeling of holding a book in my hand has not changed a bit.And I do not think it ever will.

Six Months in College

Sitting here in front of the computer, I can hardly think up of a topic to write about.Well,i have to write something i guess.Lets see...hmmm....how about my college.So here you go....

I am a young boy,not yet out of his teens-neither too young to be called a teenager.Like all fortunate youth of this country,I have to study in order to succeed in life...or at least thet is what everybody says.I am not your good student-son-human image kind of a boy.To tell the truth,I hardly attend college.And on those occassions that i do,lectures are mostly cancelled.Maybe my profs have developed an allergy towards me.But i love my college,I hope that it would say the same about me.

Living in one of the faraway suburbs of a mega metropolis like mumbai,I did not have a large option of colleges to choose from ( Not that we do not have the facilities,My marks were pretty bad,worse rather).So I chose a college that i could afford rather than like.Well,it wasn't so bad after all.I was informed that my year would start in July.

I attended my first lecture after about three weeks of the start of the academic year.I assure you that i was not the first person to do so,and most certainly not the last either.We,students have a rather mythical or even delusional view about college life.For us,entering college means not wearing uniforms,bunking lectures,and obviously growing up.Though that is not true for a huge portion of the academia,it most certainly is the law for idiots like me.

I started off very popularly.There are various "Groups"in colleges.There are the " Hot guys","Cool Guys","Nerds","Bullies","Average Joes" etc etc.I,though wasn't made to be in one single group.When you are as smart,cool,funny and yeah..handsome as i am,forgive me the self-praise,you know you'll get along with everybody like fish and chips.I was thronged by boys and girls...well,maybe not girls..but definitely boys.I'll add that I am a thoroughly straight person,but this popularity came as a surprise.

I soon found out what i had to do here.I joined the camps organised,the literature club and the drama.Though i never got the lead role in any drama( the prof was biased),i managed to hold my ground.As for studies,I wasn't doing that bad.The arrival of our first term brought my attention to the only weakness in my armour - Attendance.Well,i managed to get it solved with some help from my acquaintances.You see,if anyone needs my answer sheets during the exams,he ought to be prepared for doing something.Nothing comes for free.So my profs were absolutely stunned when they found me having an 78% attendance record.

It's been half a year since i joined college.I think i've achieved quite a lot for six months,though i am not content with it.You might wonder whether all this is true,Maybe yes;maybe not.I,for one,have lived through all this and will continue to do so.

Yaaawwwnnn....again

Hmmm..the day has been pretty nonchalant so far.Nothing has happened till now.Well,nothing exceptional ,that is.I woke up this morning late again.So late,that it was no use even going to college.No wonder my disliking profs hardly recognise me when i,on certain special occassions,sit for their lectures.I remember my politics prof being very political towards me by asking me to define those things which he knew i would not know.Coming back to the present,after having my breakfast i took some time off reading newspaper,watching tv and roaming around.Hope i might build up the heart to pick up my book and study for a while.It has been a while since i did that,Also i need to go to the univ to check out their german language course.My friend has been asking me to do it for quite some time.I really gotta pull up me socks ,maan!The problem is .....they stink!!!

Today

What a day!I hardly could rest for a moment. The day started on a very serious note.I woke up very early...and by that i mean very early,at around 6 am.But then,i could not keep my eyes open for very long.I just closed them for a moment,and the next time i opened them it was 8.30.Damn!!gotta rush to college.I already missed the 7 am lecture(not that i make it everyday).a quick shower,brush and coffee and i am off.

Phew! I reached college almost in time for my third lecture.All i didn't know was that i had a surprise in waiting.There were to be no lectures today on account of some silly day being celebrated in Junior college.That is a relief.The rest of my time was spent hanging around our indoor sports room.At about 11.30,me and my friends could hear our stomachs grumbling.You see,one cup of coffee and some breakfast hardly fills teenage stomachs,You oughtta see some of my more famished acquaintances to realise the acute hunger and poverty in india!The only problem in sight was that we are a greedy group of robbers who never pay for their food.We find some 'BAKRA' who would do that for us.Did we find someone? You betcha!

Back home.Well,i don't do anything at home,so i decided that i fill up this mostly empty webspace. Hope you read it!

My week in the gym

Today is a day of redemption for me.I have been promising that i would go to the gym for days,no,months now.I never made it past the gate.Since childhood,i was never the physical type.You would be accurate if you pictured me as an introverted,intellectual,bespectacled,thin,not very tall boy. I hardly remember myself going for a game of cricket,football,or anything for that matter.You would find me in the library...I even knew the librarian by her name.Then something happened.As I entered my late teens, I began to realise the disastrous effect of my physique on my personality.All around me i saw boys taller,more well built than me.The teachers in college hardly noticed me( that you could defer to the lack of visibility owing to the taller dumbass sitting ahead of me)I lost confidence.All my years of putting faith in the power of wisdom were a waste.I decided to put an end to this suffering.I resolved to change myself into the ultimate male that everyone adores and respects.I decided that one day i am going to take on the class bully and ground him to dust and....Ok,maybe i am overreacting.Hmmm.....To say i was 'pumped up' would be an understatement, But the lack of courage and conviction never allowed me to enter the restricted area of the place.I often visualised the Gym as a place where a human being was turned into a mass of muscle,as often shown on TV.To tell the truth,I wasn't very comfortable with the idea of exhibiting myweak body frame in front of some brawny muscleman who would,for obvious reasons be snickering in his heart.Well, finally i did join the gym.And i am further informing you that this was my first week there.How was it?Well,For a start,I am not able to get up and walk straight in the mornings because of the pain in my back,legs etc.I lack the strength to lift my left arm as i think i might have pulled my muscle.AND...the bruise on my right shoulder stings....before you ask,i dropped SOMETHING on it.Now,if you think that i will continue going there ,you are either too optimistic or some nutcase philosopher.My brother here says i might be exaggerating the injuries a bit but i assure you that the pain i am going through disagrees with his saying.I think i was fine with the only load on mmy head being that of a pending exam,not a real headache caused by over exertion

An interesting happening

I have no interest in religion,god and things supernatural( though i wouldn't mind aliens,ghosts,).And i hate to waste my sundays on things like these.Unfortunately i am born in a chaste south-indian hindu brahmin family with so devout a lineage that if i made an attempt i could introduce you to god.So i have to take care that i keep up the reputation of the family at social gatherings( not that i've managed to do it).Most of our social gatherings happen under the pretext of a religious function.Such happenings are the places where south indian mami's gossip with one another on topics ranging from the food to somebody's marriage.My behaviour in such places ought to be utmost proper.The family deity had come visiting to my city,and my parents did not want to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity.I had to tag along. As i stood there in the mile-long queue,i wondered if god really looked at all these people and ever wondered what to do with them.Imagine a 4 lac people mob coming to see you,Heck!Elvis might not have seen that popularity.I watched people in all kinds of attires, devoutly praying and chanting.I have a strong dislike towards rituals.Hinduism,on the contrary,is solely made up of rituals.So i often cross paths with the elders of my family.As i was bumming up standing in the snail line,under the hot afternoon sun,i spoke aloud on the blind faith on god.Unfortunately,for me,an young hexagenarian behind me heard it.He launched himself into a long advice on what is the importance of religion.I cringed and thought that maybe this was the reason Marx,had invented socialism.The drone was so long that i hardly noticed it was time for us to have darshan.As i enterd and had a look at the idol,astrange thought crossed my mind.The idol was a golden one.At the first look you might have noticed it to be of a man with four arms( VISHNU).THE smile on his face was beatific.Nowonder,people thronged to see it.But was it really god? Iremembered Voltaire " If god created us in his likeness,we have returned him the favor". It felt strangely true.I bent down and prostrated before the idol,i sensed my defeat.Though i did not accept him as god i still paid my respects to him,like a respectable foe.I looked at the faces off my parents,they were blissful.Maybe,i thought,this is the hope on which they as well as crores of other people,carry on with their lives.