Tagged & ragged!

I have been tagged! Yes! Time to do some introspection and get those moment out of my life. With no hue and cry, here it goes..

1. If you could go back in time to relieve one moment, what would it be?
I am one of those blessed ones who had one quarter of my life as holidays. After my twelfth exam, I had almost 5 months before joining a college due to some clash between officials and students. after my Engg., I had solid seven months of idleness. In both cases, I didnt do anything. Not surprising? Still, I wish I put them to some use.So, I want to relieve those moments of idleness and add to my life now. I will make the best use of the time.I promise !

2. If you could go back to the time and change one thing, what would it be?
That one day decision to choose between State board and CBSE. I still feel I should have not switched to state board. Why is it all academic? I am a hard core Chennaite!

3. What movie or TV character do you think you resemble the most in personality?

Elektra! You see, thats my alter ego :)

4. Which movie or TV character would you love to be?

No movie character but JK Rowling. Or Chetan Bhagat :)

5. If you could push the one person in the whole world off a cliff and get away with it, who would it be?
Navjot Sidhu. Hate the way he speaks!

6. Name one habit you need to change in yourself.
Laziness. Duh!

7. Describe yourself in one word.
Creative

8. Describe the person who named you in MEME in word.
Simple and straight. Talented but modest. Quite a package I say :)

9. Why do you blog?
I love writing. I like trying out different stuff and writing is one of the most versatile action I have ever known.More important, I like being appreciated ;)

10. Name at least 3 people or more to send this MEME and then inform them.

Srivatsan: http://rivat-hanss.blogspot.com/

Viswa : http://www.vishfulthinking.com/

Iswarya: http://iswarya-m.blogspot.com/ (want her to write :))

11. Link back to the person who tagged you in this MEME.
http://kalyanb4u.wordpress.com/ Thanks a lot Kalyan :)

Introducing myself.The pain.

I am pain. I am no ambivalence because I have no further degrees of existence. Big or small, I am still the pain.

I am prevalent somehow; I can be seen through externalities like expressions and sounds, at the same time, can be hidden in emotions. Thus, this chaos of dominance makes me special yet I am the unwanted. No, I am not related to sadness because I live in all myriads of human feeling. I can be felt in sadness, cured in injury, confused in failure, understood in rejection and most important, never do I come alone.

I can never be explained. I could sweep in through you to show my presence or stay in corner of heart and make it heavy but never has anyone been able to describe what I am.

I am underestimated and need my due respects. I could show who you really are. I am the reason for your introspection. I could help you realize the worth of many other feelings that you really look forward to. Would you realize happiness without me? Gain something you have always wanted without my assistance? Adding to millions of my service, would your emotions exist without me being there?

I am not God but a way to him; make you kneel before anything that you fear or love, the choice is yours. I am sometimes the pleasure you seek and sometimes, the relief you want. I am the origin of fear and result of action you might want or wish to avoid. When I am there, you would have no other companion but me. The only thing that ever hits your sense is to get rid of me. I am sometimes, your soul mate.

I am a symbiotic nuisance; I cannot exist without your will.

Understand me, for I have been misunderstood for ages. Without me, there is no victory, no self respect and no other emotion. I am the God. I am the devil.

Return gift

“How long do you expect me to believe your story, Yaswath?”

“Neeta, you are mature enough to understand the situation. I have just finished my degree. Times are bad”

“I have been waiting for too long. People are pestering at home. Every girl is getting married”

“Neeta, it will happen soon. Just trust me. Where are you?”

“It is none of your concern”. Click.

Neeta collapsed on the stone staircase that led to an open elevated stage. She felt the park seemed unknown and very strange even though she had been in the city for 13 years. She stared at the tree and let her thoughts wander. She didn’t even bother than her white salwar and light blue dupatta were picking dirt.

Somebody tapped her shoulder.

“Didi, want groundnuts?”, said a small boy with chubby face that assured baby fat and frail body. He stood with a tin can almost his size that also carried paper folded in cones and stacked at one corner.

“How much for one?”

“Just 5 rupees didi. How many do you want?”, he asked eagerly.

“I will give you 20 rupees. Sit down here”, Neeta pointed out to the empty place next to her.

“Didi..I ..have..work..”. He was completely surprised and more curious.

“I will buy all your stock today. Now, will you sit?”

It was a tempting offer that he didn’t want to let go off. He carefully placed the tin on the lower staircase and sat down. He kept giving side glances at her. She didn’t say anything.

“Are you one of those kind?”, he broke the silence.

“Which kind?”, she asked suddenly shaken by his question.

“You know..the ones who do stuff with kids…”, he glanced at her but concentrated on the pavement in front of him. “Raju chacha has warned us against people like that. I know you are not but just assuring myself.”

“No. I am not”, she grinned at him.

“Thank God you are smiling. Now, can I go?”, he placed his hand on the tin.

“Not until you have answered one question. How do you trust someone?”, she asked looking straight into his eye.

“Didi..I don’t know..”

“Then, sit down and think of an answer”, She pulled him down to sit.

The silence prevailed. He watched the group of older men and women doing some movements at the other end of the part. There were young girls giggling over a photo album. He saw a group of men working on setting up a stage.

“Didi, there is going to be a show staged today. They are selling the tickets at the counter. Do you want one? It will lighten your mood.

“How much is the ticket?”, she asked disinterested.

“Just 50 rupees per head”, he explained with wide open eyes.

She took out a 1000 rupee note and handed it to him. “Get two, one for yourself and me.”

“Thanks Didi. Will be back in a jiffy”. And he took to his heels.

Fifteen minutes later

“The..ticket..two. . the change”, he gasped for breathe and handed over the money.

“Good. Now, sit down”, she insisted again.

He scowled at her and sat down. The silence was killing. ‘What does she want? All these rich people are crazy. Who cares as long as she is buying my groundnuts’. He continued to stare at the people.

“Maybe this is how you trust people”, he exclaimed.

“What?”, she asked, quite confused.

“You gave me thousand rupees. It was sign of faith.I took the sign and got the tickets. I had my chances to get away with the money but I didn’t. You just have to give time and benefit of doubt. Everyone has the chance to cheat but what he does in a situation is what trust is all about.”, he explained half immersed in glory and self appreciation.

It struck her. Yaswath had his chances too. He has been in America for almost three years and it has not been a day that he has never called. He had always been there for her. Tears began to flow from her eyes. She looked at her hand and saw a very thin gold bracelet that Yaswath had gifted her during their college days. He had used all his internship money on that. The boy was still looking at her for her reply. This boy made her understand something she was unable to answer for months.She took the bracelet and handed over to him.

“What are you doing Didi??”, he asked in shock.

“Take it. You will never know the value of your words”, she said and began fiddling with numbers on the phone. She moved out of the place leaving him to silence again.

Tring.Tring.

Click.

“Hello. Kaun?”

“Raju chacha, its me. Nitin. “

“What is it? Were you able to get something valuable?”

“Chacha,I spotted a lonely lady by the staircase with a gold chain “

“What happened then?”

“I could not do anything. I tried my best”

“You are so useless. Anyway, leave it. We will see tomorrow”.

Click.

He vowed to self that he wouldn’t steal again. There are good people in this world.

Worked out at work place

In this 21^st century, at the age of 24, you are definitely aged. You seem to have experienced everything in all aspects. Well, almost everything. Apparently, with this very same superior feeling, I have been interning at an advertisement agency. This is not my first “corporate “experience, still, I don’t get the hang of it.

Previous to this, I worked in an IT company and tried to fit into the best of professional character.Most of the time, food, water and clothing did not matter because of work pressure and late night shifts. I had the usual complains: less salary, more work and bad bosses. It stayed in mind to criticize and crib about the work load and company.All this, I did it without any remorse.Quite often they asked me to stay back because I was new to the work and had to learn a lot. The sad part was that this was the impression given to me for almost a year. If someone stayed for 16 hours at his cubicle meant he was the most hardworking and should be given better grades. Not long did I realize that programming never seemed to flow in my blood. Now, I have been corrected; there is nothing passionate or inherent talent flowing, but the usual RBCs and WBCs. Then, I realized it was high time I sought after better “standards” of living. With many futile attempts with applications and examinations, I ended pursuing MBA and I am back to square one.

I must agree that interning at an ad agency is much more chilled and less stressful;there is a difference between hectic and stressful. I got to know how things worked and what is expected of me. I am constantly reminded of who is the boss around and I need to give due respect. Here, we are allowed to dress in any attire and it dawned to me that miniskirts are not a thing to be worn only at night. I am a conservative south Indian, you know. Putting the jigsaw puzzle together,it seemed that this is what I wanted. Right? I sought for freedom to dress, move around, network, flexible timings and informal environment. It was never a stressful job that boggled my mind every time I was assigned to it. This was something I enjoyed doing. Being a little sane on the creative end, even executing a task was not tough at all. Everything seemed picture perfect.

Still, in the corner of my mind is a nag; a nag that says that I am not very happy or satisfied. There is no elated feeling of accomplishment that I used to get in my previous work. This was monotonous and no permanent friends as some one or the other left the agency every two months. There was no joy eating together smiling artificially or looking at every face that was enjoying alcohol in a team party.

In despair,I began to wonder if I could ever be satisfied with any job. After some thought and little prod around, it dawned to me that it was not just me but with many others. Though many did not work in two entirely different industries as I did, the complains did not end. It was nothing to do with oneself or the job but the sync that prevailed between the two. When the person performed the same task over again and again, he sure is bound to get bored and state of restlessness settles in. The complains start and monotony continue. This was the same thing with me. I could not see any of them as challenging or problem to solve, rather, I looked at them as a measure to satisfy someone, the client or the boss or the guide. I did not seem to understand why I am working but was doing everything with no mind of my own.

It was my perception that did not satisfy me and not the work place. To love my job, I have to change the way I look at a task. And for that, I need to look at it as a challenge. So, I was looking at a couple of a soap advertisement and framing taglines. I had to trigger the interest within but certain interests are inherent.If thats the case, why not make them your profession? Is it possible? I am very sure more than 80% percent would be answering a “no” mentally to this question. Maybe these interests are not invoked in our jobs but we have a choice to make something out of it. Why not try to bring together what we like and what you want to do? With the same lines of thought, I wrote this article

Dear men,

(I remember one of my friend's note on women. Wanted to reply there but it could have seemed feministic. That is not the intention.)

No, this is not another one of those moments where every girl is cute but dumb and every guy is the overly "saintified". This is for the 'men', group of gender who think they know all that exist and everything that might cease to extinct. Maybe, it’s true. And we agree. That makes the essence of rest of the article.

(1) We are the most confused creatures. It is not because of enumerable options that lie in front of us but we think too much and for everyone. Most of the times, everyone is equally important for us.That is not a problem; it is entangled strings of thoughts that make decisions confusing for us. The only suggestion we would make here is don’t confuse us more. We understand your in-depth knowledge of everything but leave certain things to us. Especially when dealing another woman.

(2) We are sick of the jokes that are made on us, yet, we would laugh at yours. It is not sympathy or pity. We thought that was your intention. To make us laugh, right? *giggle giggle*

(3) We are lost when it comes to direction. Just as you are lost when it comes to names and date.

(4) Sigh! We are one jealousy beings. We hate it when you compliment other girls. We are conscious of our looks. This is the reason that cosmetic industry makes billions. No , you are not at all jealousy types. Just a little possessive. A little too much that you can’t stop questioning about a guy whom we smiled at near the coffee machine.

(5) We would love to dress up for you. Everything you demand. Like the models or the girl who is next to your cubicle in office. Alas! We don’t have the money the movie star has or the over generous boyfriend the next-cubicle- girl goes out with.

(6) We went to school just like you, we went to college just like you and we would go to workplace too. We fought along with you all the years with the system, the education scenario and everything that seemed impossible to you. This entire thing narrows to the factor that we too are incapable of cooking or drawing rangolis. If you can do either of these, we are truly pleased and appreciative. It doesn’t mean you are doing something that a girl should be doing. We have done enough that you were supposed to do.

(7) When we say a swear word, it is just another swear word. It is not that we are showing off or pervert types or we are trying to modernize. We picked it from some guy who used it after every syllable.

(8) Don’t you dare talk about our father. We hate to do that with your mother.

(9) You pay our shopping bills. You pay the bills at restaurants. We give only missed calls. You bring a gift every time you see us. We ignore you to show that we are superior beings. You will have to make the first move.Did you also know that moon is going to swallow earth within next ten years? Ridiculous, is it? Tell me more, I am listening.

(10) Our mood swings faster than blink of an eye. You are aware right? Then, were that immediate seven missed calls necessary when we say we want to be left alone for sometime?

(11) Like the finger prints, every girl is different from another. Stereotyping doesn’t make any sense. If you knew girls were like this only and things that they expected, why wait for the “one” to sweep you off the feet?

(12) Appreciate women for what they do for you. They too have a life, a career and things to handle. It wouldn’t hurt to praise them once a while. But, please don’t make it too often that it irritates us. We know when you flatter us or lie. We just act innocent for you. We are epitome of lies. We lie to save our asses and yours.

One last question that has been nagging my mind, when you think we are so imperfect, confused and selfish, why marry us?

P.S.; I understand that not all women hold beliefs and think like I do. For those who don't, I am sorry. You can your own perception and PUT IT UP IN YOUR BLOG!

Chennai calling but no one coming!-PART I

This rambling is not for you but for me, to assure and advocate my feelings and thoughts on certain issues. I don’t want to convince anyone on this and don’t expect people to sympathize or acknowledge the facts I am going to put across. Then why am I writing this? I ask you the same, why not?

I am a south Indian, so, a part of “conservative” already exists and has been enriched more by another fact that I live in Tamil Nadu. Most people literally fear coming to any place in Tamil Nadu which includes Chennai and if you beg to differ, we can fight it out on off- record. The reasons are innumerable; food, people, climate and even the crappiest reason one can think of.

Don’t blame us for the “language barrier” that exists with us. We are the ones who could learn anything except what does not exist. Hindi, to us is like any other foreign language and to learn that, it is a necessity that we come out of our state. And that is kind of impossible looking at the opportunities that exists here.

We, the “madrasi” love our own food which includes the idli,sambhar and the curd rice. Maybe it is weird to the rest of the country as how people can survive on these foods on all four meals a day. We ask you the same, ‘aloo’ all the time?

No, we didn't ask the sun to come along this way and make it blazing hot. We hate the sun as much as anyone. Thanks to geographic location that extra pigment of melanin has been imbibed in our skins. We have to fight the quota system and hence, can’t fight the sun. If you ask any child what 69% means to him (except the pervert spoilt brats), he would say a huge margin. That is the quota system in our state. Even we are confused as in how so many castes entered our state. The so-called-forward-caste is nowhere forward in any aspect but no one would believe here.

Brahmins can be hated here. Maybe this is the strongest argument I have ever put across but I believe there are some prejudices that need to be cleared. ‘They will not move around with anyone and talk to none other than their own clan’. Sigh! I thought that it was a norm in our country. ‘They are proud and arrogant of their caste’. Bull! Just give me a reason to be proud about. I am someone who can’t read a tamil sentence straight, let alone read the Vedas and other chants. The only reason I am a Brahmin is that two elderly people chose two from their own clans to come together and get married. I have made no contribution to the “upper caste” .

I have not been to many places but I am aware of the myths and preconceived notions that surround our place. We are learning from our past and mending ways where we bound to be wrong. The food is not bad as you think, people are not conservative old types as everyone says and lungi is not our official dress!

P.S.; More parts yet to come.

5.AnotherOne

A wave of disgust creeps through my body when I see some arbit minuscule objects, creatures and sorts of same kind. There is something about the very size that intrudes and strikes a resemblance to my reflection in the mirror. I have always imagined a six foot knight in shinning armour , least forgotten was that the princess had to match his height. Genes is as assorted and confused as my family and again (apart mathematic genes that skipped earlier. Post here) wasn’t passed to the rightful elder heir. Rather, it helped in growing my size horizontally than vertically.
Keeping aside the negativities of smallness, a major attribute about it is that it is considered cute, sweet and adorable but never attractive, beautiful or head turner.

Just like I try hard for everything else, I have tried more than enough to add inches to my height. Starting from the health drink that was shown in advertisement which had over attractive mother and child that stuck to her like leech but grew like earthworm.(And I am pretty sure that the “child” must be at least 15 years old who forgot to grow). Making Murphy my beloved, I quote this. Anything that is supposed to cause good, tastes/appears bad. My mother had to chase me around every day and force gallons down my throat; the taste that lingered longer than any alcohol available.

Man made innovative things with iron that we were made to hang like clothes on it . “If not the food, it can be done through exercise”, my mother claimed like God was listening to every word she said. The futile exercise was carried on for years which left my arms sore.

I was doing my part too. I enrolled in the basket ball team. The reason initially was because one the cutest guy was in the boy’s team and it was a perfect excuse. After being a substitute for years together and not getting the guy either, I gave up on the game.

We have our own excuses. In Chinese, small feet are beautiful. Most of the successful people are short, for example, Sachin Tendulkar ( No, it doesn’t include Ramesh Powar). Short people rule the world, example Hitler. But then, everyone including us know that we are just consoling ourselves.

Short people obviously become the first benchers adding woes into already miserable life. We are the most victimized in sense of cheeks being pulled and used as hand rest for anyone and everyone above our height. Photos had to be shot from down angle and people sat when posed with us. The aura around us is never intimidating and thus, we are the most approachable people ever.

I often look at the mirror and find hundred faults. That could be with anyone but I have thanked enough for having the hands, legs and everything that makes me normal. God is never unfair, its only human nature to find fault with everything.

I smiled at my reflection “thank you God for everything. But just 2 more inches please…”