Of me and myself

Excitement comes in all shapes and sizes! And, when it does, your heart fills with tears and eyes with joy. It can be as small a thing as sneaking out of the office escaping all the eyes or catching a bus the moment you reach the bus stop, to big things which are planned and much awaited. Explicitness would be inappropriate as excitement sometimes come as a surprise as well!
I’m treating myself, for enjoying the small excitements when nothing exciting was happening in life, with something really exciting!

If you think this post is insane, you should hear me talk right now!

Of a stretch of a day

I have been doing work since morning, without any breaks (‘cause I din feel like lunch). And to do that work was not any easy task at all. Yes, there’s a script I can refer to but ladies and gentlemen it gets monotonous and the feeling of I-know-how-to-do-this-I-don’t-need-script overtakes your mind to an extent that the pressure is ALL on your brain. So, what happens when u put so much pressure on a poor little soul who slept a little late due to a technological invention of a device which has made the world to move at the speed of light or sound maybe, computer and woke up really early to catch the first bus that comes to the bus stop? I made a mistake! I have no idea how to rectify it, so waiting for my never-to-be-seen boss to appear in the office. Hopefully the mistake won’t be too huge and he won’t scold me or make faces or abuse or give me the look like hiring me was the biggeset mistake of his life, like "some" other bosses do!

Is it too unhealthy to complain about your work or at least think ‘it’s a pain’ everyday (when you’ve already taken a week off in one month one week and one day since job started)? I try not to but the distance, the waking up early, the same-job scope-everyday, the same-boring-faces of bosses, the same-canteen-with-two-stalls (though I pray everyday that Today miraculously there will be one more stall or that Maybe there’re selling something I’d enjoy), the same-working hours and the same temperature of the Air Con (it gets so cold that my nails turn blue), make it really hard for me to even remotely love coming to office. The work I do, however, is mostly want I always wished to do, but I think I am not ready for working lifestyle as yet and you know what? I’m happy I’m not =)

फन के लिए =)

यह पोस्ट हिन्दी में लिख रहा हूँ क्यूंकि हमे हमारी राष्ट्रया भाषा को महत्व देना चाहिए।
और इस लिए भी क्यूंकि मजे आ रहे है। हाहा लोल!
और इस लिए भी क्यूंकि थोड़ा बोर हो रहा है ऑफिस में।
यह पोस्ट इधर ही ख़तम होती है। नमस्कार।

Of Marshal's and Lily's

While making my way from the bus stop where I sat for 2 long-boring-hot hours to the bridge, one traffic light away to collect the money I earned by sweating and sitting without backrest, I couldn’t help but notice this couple walking in front of me. They were walking at the speed of an earthworm and stuck to each other like a leech. They were so much into holding hands that even when a file fell down both of them bent down together to lift it with each of their free hands, not letting go of the hold.

For many, such a gesture would be irritating/cheesy/mushy/too cute. But I thought it was just their version of expression which was not to be judged (not the walking slow part though!). Probably they were in a new relationship where everything seems angelic, but if they weren’t then there must be something more than ideal about them. How many couples after a few years into being committed talk to each other over the phone for hours? How many of them hold hands like they are never suppose to let go? How many of them feel the zsa zsa zsu when they’re being kissed? How many of them alter plans with their friends just to be with the person they love for 15 more mins?

The answer to the aforementioned questions depends on the length of the relationship for most. Inversely proportional!

I admire those who can maintain the same love/ beatitude/warmth/adventure even when they grow so old that they need to put on their dentures before they can even try to kiss and use wrinkle creams so they look younger and more attractive than the partner. They struggle to walk even while using a stick yet they hold hands to support the other =)

Such are the gestures that make the love last forever and make the relationship stronger with each passing day, with each passing moment.

Of people and their opinions

You see someone who you know you're never going to see again still you make an opinion about that person. You meet someone for the first time and the first thing you do is make an opinion about him (don't deny it, you know you do it). You spend some time with that person you still have an opinion about him (it might be for the better or worse). You love someone still you can't convince yourself not to make an opinion about the loved one.

We all (I being no exception) tend to visualize what the person's life is and what he is like in life, no matter who he is, where you see or meet him, how long have you been with him, how much you know him.

Who are we to make judgments? Who are we to assume their whole background, life, habits? Why do we care? Is it human nature, maybe?

Making an opinion is one thing, but are we allowed to impose it on others? Can we tell a third party how the second party is, based on our mere opinions? Are we allowed to do that? Maybe not?

Then why people all around you want their thoughts to be accepted all around them? Why do people not respect other's opinion? Why do they assume that their assumptions are always right? Why do they want to shut their ears when the view point differs from their's?

I'm a little fed up of the questions. Guess I require a good night's sleep before I can wake up at 5 tomorrow. After all, in everybody's opinion it's a job I can't screw up! I've to play by the rule and live up to that opinion. Right? Maybe?

Of a happy life and a dreadful end

“It’s a boy!” they said and rejoiced. Another member in the family; the only son, the only child. Celebrations everywhere! Happiness and hope everywhere!

Time passed. Little son became a naughty kid. Very destructive. Poor results in school. Complaints from teachers. Scolding from parents. Not-so-good company. Things weren’t exactly the best for him but he was having a ball.

Time passed. Naughty kid became a growing man. He realized his responsibilities towards his family, being the only child. Started to take things a little more seriously yet squeezing all the fun out of life (still naughty). Shy to talk to girls yet having crushes every second day. Not-so-good company were still his friends but he now knew how and when to differentiate. His life was a little on track and he was still having a ball.

Time came. An accident took place. Broken glass everywhere. Curious road-siders surrounded. In the middle, covered in his own blood laid this growing man. His small eyes closed. His breathe faded. His heart stopped.

No one knows what were his last words or his last thoughts. No one. Everything was over in those few minutes; a life, a hope, a family.

Piyush and I used to fight a lot, not because we hated each other but because he was in the group I hated the most.

I didn’t think that this event would shake me up so bad but after crying under the pillow for a few days now, I know that it has. Life is so unpredictable. People say “I live life to the fullest”, do they actually? Piyush did. So what if he wasn’t the topper in school? So what if he misbehaved? So what if he didn’t get into the finest engineering college? All his life, he did what he wanted to and when he wanted to. His parents loved him. His friends loved him. His round face always had a smile. He, indeed, lived life to the fullest.

Of Girlfriends and Pyjama Parties

Clean table, dirty room, lot of work, consistent effort to finish it bit by bit, loud music; seems like I am back in old JC days except that instead a cup of coffee, what lies next to me is a bottle of water; except that the door is not open (cluster mates get disturbed); except that she’s not sitting on the table next to mine to sing along with me (occasionally telling me how bad my voice suck), to talk about guys, to bitch about the world, to share mutual cravings for food, to wake me up in five minutes, and most importantly to tell me that I don’t look fat from side, back and front profiles (After June 2005, it was all lies!)

I miss my roommate and I am not embarrassed to say that because it’s not her why I am writing this (I love you! =p) but the lack of females in my life.

I’ve been brought up with boys, had more boy-friends in school than girl-friends (I hated most of those girls). I am just so uncomfortable around girls. Maybe it’s the universal fact that girls are bitchy; you never know what she’s going to say about you to her friends once you turn your back. Maybe it’s the fear that many of them would dislike me (I am sorry but I just can’t put up the fake ‘Oh! I am so happy to see/talk/spend time with you’ for more than 5 mins’).Though I do try sometimes due to criticism from my male friends - ‘you don’t have any girl friends’, and in hope that I would at least like a few of them and they would like me too. And I do enjoy the company of a handful of them, but the thought of meeting them again and hanging out makes me go zsa zsa zsu and so I tend not to make any such plans.

Perhaps this is the reason why I value the girls I have in my life so much. I love each one of them to the extent that choice being given I’d choose them over any chocolate fudge, any ice cream, any party, any guy.