What Really Mattered...

WHAT REALLY MATTERED…

Chatty uncle cleaned the perfectly spotless china doll for what must have been the 15^th time. Then he started inspecting the rest of the cabinet. Age old trophies and certificates won by his baba adorned the mantel piece. Even the most frivolous ones like participation certificate for a drawing competition (a hobby he didn’t even bother pursuing beyond that point) were on the shelf. But for Amol Chatterjee or shortly called “Chatty uncle” by his baba they were priceless treasures. He took his time appreciating each piece of certificate and trophy and then walked slowly towards the sofa set. Then resting his hand on the side of the cushioned armrest he sat on the floor. Even when he had the house to himself he couldn’t imagine seating himself on the sofa itself, though sometimes he longed to feel the softness under his aching back. He had once indulged himself, though. Just a few days after his baba had left for “vilayat”. He had come out of the kitchen with a steel plate which contained two chapattis and a curry with lots of gravy, a piece of lemon and salt on the side (his standard lunch for past 60 years) when he had seen the plush sofa cushions. He sat on it and felt immediate comfort- a kind of comfort he hadn’t even known existed. In an attempt to sit with his feet up as his master used to he had spilled some gravy on it. He was frantic with worry and though the stain came off with one wash with his expertise he could never risk sitting on the sofa again. He leaned his back against the side of the set which had a bit of a lining. This he felt was a bit similar to sitting on the sofa itself.

He heard a familiar sound of footsteps. His ears strained to become alert. He wished he was a few years younger as he propped himself up and tried to what he imagined to be a sprint to the main door. He wanted to catch the little devils before they rang the bell. However his age did not allow him such kind of agility. He had hardly gone mid way when the bell rang. Several times. He counted the number of rings. Six. Which meant one of the pesky kids hadn’t gone to play. He opened the door and saw six sets of handprints on the squeaky clean mahogany door. He walked inside and got a cloth to wipe it. It seemed like they were trying to see how high they could jump. He didn’t mind the children playing; but only as long as they didn’t dirty his baba’s door. After cleaning it till he could see his reflection in it, he stared at the nameplate for a minute. Anand Bose. His baba. He resolved to catch those kids red handed next time.

Amol was only 14 when he was forced to help his father in his job- which was working as a household help. His mother had abandoned him and his father when he was an infant. People cooked up different storied to justify her disappearance. That she had run off with another man; she had a fatal disease and couldn’t risk her family knowing about it; she had angered the spirit of the nearby lake when she washed utensils which were used to serve non vegetarian food were just few of the many fairy tales he grew up listening to. But the fact remained that he had grown up motherless and had never known her to miss her. His father was also his mother. So when his father asked him to abandon his dreams of further education to join him in his “business” he did not think twice. His father used to work at five different households. But the Boses were the ones he was particularly fond of. So naturally, Amol was made to take over the 4 other households so his father could devote all his time to them. 10 years later when the Bose family proudly announced the birth of the first child of that generation, Amol saw the happiest expression on his father’s then tired face. He wondered if this was the expression father had when he, Amol, was born.

When at the age of six the child, now named Anand, called his father Chatty uncle after their surname he rushed excitedly to tell Amol the news. By now, Amol could see that it was time for the old man to retire. After much persuasion he let his son take over the household work of the Bose family and in turn Amol inherited the devotion his father had for the family. Eventually he also inherited the nickname Chatty uncle from Anand who he fondly called baba. The 24 year age difference did not stop the master and servant from bonding. In fact, their degree of bonding was much higher than what his father and he shared. When his father passed away a year later Amol took a week off to perform his final duties towards his father and then limited his world to the Bose household. A game Anand was particularly fond of was the ball game. Anand would throw a leather bound ball in any random direction and Amol was expected to catch it. Sometimes Anand would hurl the ball in direction of the shelf which had all beautiful antique pieces and Amol would throw his entire body at the ball to stop it from hitting the shelf. Anand would squeak with delight and Amol never let him know how his heart stopped every time he did that. He remembered on particular day he was idling away near the teak dining set in the kitchen and Anand started his impromptu ball game. He shot the brown ball in direction of the shelf…

He saw the ball making its way to the precious trophy case and without thinking heaved his body towards the ball. He barely caught it in his frail fingers but he did it. His eyes dimly registered a yellow sponge ball. The ball wouldn’t have done much damage to the shelf but Amol wasn’t thinking much then. He saw three faces peering through the window- unmistakable joy on their faces and he started going to the window screaming abuses. The boys ran away laughing and Amol had a secret smile on his lips. It had been a long time since he had played the ball game. He decided he will try and befriend the boys. He thought maybe they could help him bring back the joyful days.

The next day he had his ears strained to catch the youngster’s footsteps. He intended to open the door as soon as they came to ring the bell. Then he would smile and invite all of them inside, and treat them to handmade freshly baked cookies. When he finally heard the “Thump! Thump! Thump!” their little feet made his heart started beating in anticipation. As he heard them right outside the door, he quickly opened it. The boy was caught off guard. He ran away scared shouting warnings to the others who were hiding at their usual posts. He tried to call them but they did not listen. After an hour he heard the footsteps again. He hobbled to the door and opened it before they could reach for the bell. The boys again ran away. He chuckled to himself as he realized a new game had been invented. Well, then the cookies will have to wait.

The next day he kept the door open and sat by it waiting for the little ones to arrive. He had almost fallen asleep when sound of slippers slapping against the floor alerted him. The kids were nowhere in sight. Instead their postman stood by the door unsure how to address the old man sitting on the floor by an open door.

“Excuse me; are you the owner of the house?”

“I am a mere caretaker. I live here alone”

“There is a registered post for a certain Amol Chatterjee”

“That would be me.”

“You need to sign here.”

How many years had passed since he had signed his own name? His hand trembled and his mind was confused beyond explanation as he tried to remember how to spell Amol. He thanked all his stars and also spared a kind thought for his father for giving him such a short name. What if it was Ganpatray like the grocery shop owner at the corner or horrors of horrors what if was Rajnarayan Swami like the security guard who refused to be addressed by any short version of his name?

His mind leapt with joy as he realized his baba had written to him. He hastily called the postman back and made him read the letter to him so there were no delays in knowing what his baba had to say to him.

Dear Chatty uncle,

It has been a long time since I have spoken to you. I hope you are fine. Due to your eternal blessings and grace of god I am doing fine. Unfortunately due to some reason my company is downsizing and I have to leave my job here. However I have a good severance package and so Smita and I am returning back to India 20^th of this month. Hoping to see you in good health,

Anand

Amol did not understand half the terms. They were paying him to leave the job? And was he actually happy about it? He did not understand youngsters’ point of view. He had given up trying along time ago. Right now all he cared about was his baba and his bahu returning to their true home. He hadn’t even seen his bahu yet. But since she was his baba’s choice he decided he would like her as much as he loved his baba.

20^th couldn’t come fast enough. The only way he could keep his mind off obsessing over how time has forgotten to move ahead was by indulging himself in little games he and the boys of the building had formulated. They would throw balls from the window and he would hurl himself to catch the ball. He would run to open the door before they could ring the bell. They sometimes inserted water pipe through the open window and once had almost ruined the carpet on which Amol slept. He had a weird dream that he was drowning in the sea when he realized that the floor was wet. The source of water was quickly located and he ran to the window threatening a good cane beating to the culprit. That was the gist of the game. The boys would go any lengths to disturb his peace of mind and he would have new threats ready- including feeding the boys to rats in the basements. But he knew all of it was in good humor; that the boys enjoyed the “games” as much as he did.

20^th finally arrived. He was so nervous, nothing was clean enough. He obsessed over the trophy case, the carpets; the sofa set, the television set… the list was endless. He kept the window shut today just in case the boys think of something like dung bombs in the living room. He kept visualizing his baba arriving with his bride.

“he is like a father to me, you too should touch his feet.”

And Amol would decline, and give her the bracelet which was a family heirloom to his bahu as a sort of welcome into the household.

He had inherited the heirloom when he himself got married. But his wife had left him only after one year of married life citing reason that he never could find time for her or their family life. All he cared about was the job. She had taken nothing but her own belongings but the whole experience had left him bitter. He had never married again and had left his old house to move in this one as its caretaker. He knew he would never require that house again. He remembered the day he woke up to find his house empty except for him and his own belongings and had vowed that he would never put himself or anyone else through that ordeal again. He remembered the day vividly more so, because while he was sad and being tormented with guilt and frustration, his baba was jumping with joy eagerly awaiting the arrival of a new car into the household.

“When I grow up I will drive you around the whole world,” Anand had promised.

He saw the silver Indigo arrive at the gate from the terrace. He knew that it was his baba. He marveled at the beauty of the car and compared it to chariots kings in the stories he would make up for his baba would ride on. Only they were golden. This is pure silver.

They arrived at the doorstep and his baba and bahu entered the house.

“That was one hell of a flight. I am so tired! I am going to the bedroom to rest. You join me soon ok? You have had a long day too.”

That was Smita speaking in slightly accented English, and she headed straight to the bedroom leaving him with the luggage. He eagerly looked at Anand for him to say something.

“You have grown old! And you seem to have kept well in our absence. Good! Now I guess I should retire too. Please wake me up when tea is ready, will you?”

Amol thought they had forgotten their manners completely. His friend, the vegetable vendor was right. Once you go to ‘phoren’ they forgot all traditions. He did not notice when the kids came for their “game time”. When they rang the bell Anand came out all groggy in sleep and stared at no one outside in the corridor. Amol tried explaining that they were just young kids trying to have fun.

“And I m a tired man trying to catch some sleep. God! Is that all you did when we had left you in charge? Have fun?”

Amol was close to tears. No words about how clean the house was, how tidy their bedroom was… Anand softened a little when he saw his old servant’s face.

“I am sorry. I guess it’s just jetlag. This used to be our bedtime back in the states.”

Amol nodded in understanding and went to his kitchen with his head bowed. He was still thinking about what his baba had said when he realized it was time for tea. Lost in his thoughts he went to the kitchen and as he started to pour the tea the vessel slipped from his hand and there was a loud crash as the entire set crashed to the floor.

Later, Anand and Smita were talking to each other in the bedroom as Amol slept peacefully in the other room. That was the one which had some bare necessities and which he thought of as “my own room in baba’s house.”

“Don’t you think the servant is getting too old for the job now? He ruined the tea set; heaven knows what all he has ruined in our absence.”

“Smita, he has been in our family since I was born. He is very attached to our family.”

“Does that mean we have to put up with his incompetence for the rest of our lives? We have to look for a new servant. We could give him another chance for old times’ sake but that’s it.”

“We will give him another chance.” Anand finally agreed.

The next week in the rush of the morning hour now that his baba and bahu were in the house, he didn’t realize the ball getting hurled at the shelf. When he did realize he belatedly swung his hand again destroying a vase sitting on the edge of the show case collection. The vase was gift from Smita’s mother as a house warming present.

“I do not like the idea of firing him, Smita. He has been with me for too long. Its like firing an old friend.”

“So does that mean my feelings mean nothing to you?”

Anand was torn between love for his wife and loyalty of his Chatty uncle. The Chatty uncle who was with him since he learnt how to speak, the one who played with him, took him to park to play, observed him while he was studying, covered up for him when he hid story books behind his textbooks in time of examinations.

“We can give him enough money so he can live in comfort for the rest of his life. It will be like a severance package. We are doing fine, aren’t we? He will do fine too.”

When she put it this way, he couldn’t argue much.

******

Amol looked around at his empty “room” for the last time. Now that he though of it, it was never really full of belongings. Everything that was in there easily fit in the small bundle he carried on his shoulder. And the bundle wasn’t even too heavy. What was heavy was the lump in his throat as he realized there was nowhere he could really go. he remembered his old house and wondered what state it would be in now.

As he walked down the corridors he saw, for the first time all seven faces of his little tormentors at once. They looked younger than he’d imagined. He remembered how they had made him come alive even at this age, how they reminded him of the times when his baba adored him more than anyone else. As he thought of his baba the scowl in his face got stuck to his face. He could not move the muscles required to turn it into a smile. The children looked terrified. They had always feared him, and hence took utmost glee to see him helplessly running around falling for their tricks. It gave them immense pleasure to see him go as they had a deep rooted fear that he would actually carry out his threat and cane them or feed them to the rats in the basement.

Amol finally managed to smile at them and wink at them so they could for the last time acknowledge all the fun they had while playing their little games. But the children took to their heels as soon as they realized Amol was looking at them.

Maybe they just don’t realize they are never going to see me again. I always had a way with the kids. It is good to know that my life wasn’t totally worthless. I brought happiness in life of my baba and these children, even if in this case I wish the happiness had lasted longer.

His mind was filled with inexplicable joy as he waved goodbye to the security guard who saluted him as he left the building. And that was what really mattered in the end.

FOREVER

in your arms i promised myself

i would let go of you never never

coz with you i felt so warm and safe

felt that i had known you forever

but forever is so long ago

long before shine in the stars above

forever's a time so long so long

i m now very sure you can't tag along

so dont say forever

i do recall the love in your eyes

i thought we'd always be together

u could've just promised a few moments

but you chose to promise forever

but forever is so long a time

u thought it was worth a penny a dime

forever's a time so long so long

i m not even sure you can be so strong

please dont say forever

Footprints in the sand

He walked on the pavement by the park early in the morning… the fog made the scenario even more beautiful. He overheard a couple passing by complaining about the weather and how the fog had ruined their flight to Delhi. It wasn’t the first time he had heard someone complain about the fogs. In the village where he had spent his childhood, fogs were pretty much a common occurrence and he typically heard the farmers complain about the fog ruining their crops. He had to admit the chill that surrounded him when he walked though the fog wasn’t one of his favorite sensations. But that was before his operation. Then he could just feel the coolness, and hear the complaints. But now he could actually see the beauty of the dreaded thing. And he couldn’t understand why more people couldn’t take time to appreciate the beauty of winter’s first dew.

For Aarush, life consisted of two eras. Three, actually. He wasn’t blind from childhood. He had a normal life. He went to school everyday, albeit with a swollen face which straightened up on sight of his friends. He played games, he went for movies, and he went to the park. But all that was before his 7^th birthday. A freak incident with firecrackers involving a daredevil stunt with his best friend Ishan had brought permanent darkness in his life. He could not bring himself to leave his old school though and with special permission continued attending classes. That’s when everything changed. Ishan broke all contact with him. He found that he could not cope with his old world without his vision. Soon his grades started falling apart. His friends had a different world now, a world where they could see everything, a world he could not be a part of. He no longer played games. He started to withdraw in his shell with an enormous inferiority complex. Slowly, as hard as he wished against it, he started forgetting how his friends looked like, how the park looked like, how a cricket ball felt in one’s hands. It was as though his brain was shutting down the visual department so that there was more space for memory and other senses. He was sent to a special school for children like him. And thus, a new era began.

That was 14 years ago. Now he was operated with cornea replacement and he had come back to the visual world. All the sights he had forgotten had come back to him and now he wanted to memorize all of them. And yet, despite his return he still couldn’t think of himself as a part of the “visual” world. He had made real close friends when he was at the school for blind and he could sense that those were his real friends. And he still couldn’t get rid of the bias he had in his mind about the people who could see. His old friends were part of that world and he couldn’t forget the feeling of betrayal when they had abandoned him when he needed them the most. He could not forget the mean tricks some kids played on him taking advantage of his disability just to have a laugh at his expense. And most of all he could not forget the tone of sympathy some of them adapted around him, the tone that kept screaming that they were conferring a huge favor on him by being his friends. He still couldn’t get past those issues. And today was the first day of his college where he would go back the visual world. He planned to stay as far from everyone as he could manage.

He sat on third desk from the right on the first row- right in front of the professor. He knew enough about the visual world to guess that no one would bother accompanying him on this spot. Except for geeks. And geeks mind their own business. So he had nothing to complain about them.

“Excuse me? Is this seat taken?”

He didn’t have much of a choice. He glanced at the girl who was easing herself next to him. She had a slight built and had a tired quality around her. Maybe it was because she had dark circles around her eyes or the sluggishness in her movements but she looked older than the giggling girls in the class. Her general mannerisms belied the tiredness he saw in her. She kept constantly chatting with him throughout the time and he was glad when the professor entered the class though 15 minutes late. The enthusiasm he had when the professor want shared by others though and by the time the class was half way through he actually had started to prefer his seat neighbour’s questions. Unfortunately she wasn’t done.

As soon as the class was done she was back to her chatty self and he found her to be gyrating on his nerves.

“Hey I m Nidhi by the way,” she belatedly introduced herself.

“Ishan.” He couldn’t explain yet why he lied about his name to her. But he felt she had an overwhelming quality around her. And he didn’t like the way she asked personal questions about him. He wasn’t really comfortable with divulging his school name, his previous address or his previous life. It was something he wanted to keep separated from his new environment, as if it was too precious to be shared with others.

“Oh.”

She didn’t look too happy with the answer. Had she noticed his real name written on his notebook? Good if it was. That would be a good hint for her. Maybe now she would consider leaving him alone. He started to walk away.

“Hey so wanna catch up a cup of coffee at the canteen?”

God this girl was unbelievable!!

“Nah I have classes to attend.”

“Fine I will go with you.”

Jeez!

“No its alright. You don’t have to. I can manage to find my way around.” He gave her an uncomfortable smile.

“nah. I will do whatever you wanna do.”

Wtf?!

“Why?” he blurted before he could stop himself.

“So we get to know each other, y’know, spend some time together.. new city and all”

“I have been in pune all my life. Nothing new about it. So..” he just shrugged.

“That’s so not true!”

“Excuse me?”

Her face mirrored his own astonishment. How did she know he wasn’t from Pune? What was with this girl?

“Well, you obviously don’t know a lot of people around here… so umm… I assumed…”

“Yeah listen, u r weird. I want you to quit bothering me okay? Just… stay away.”

She looked hurt. But he didn’t turn around to actually see her reaction to his words. He just kept walking away.

The next day she sat next to him again.

“Hi. Can you believe the first lecture is physics? Unbelievable!”

He could think of someone else who was unbelievable.

“What’s up with you? Are you like stalking me for some reason?”

To his utter bewilderment she laughed. Definitely unbelievable.

“I can imagine why you say that. But no nothing like that. You just remind me of someone I know.”

Huh?

“May I ask who?”

Why did you ask that???

“Just… someone.”

“As in someone u knew closely?”

“Yeah. Very closely.”

Aww man!!! This was so not what he needed right now. Some crazy chick getting reminded of someone “close” to her when she saw him.

“Why don’t you just go to him then?”

“Coz bhaiyya is way away in Goa and I can’t go there. I mean I could but it would involve too much effort.”

“I remind you of your brother?”

There was the annoying laugh again.

“Yeah. What did you think?”

He thought she was crazy. But he has already told her that. Seriously what was with that girl?

“Hey wanna catch a movie the day after?”

“No.”

“C’mon man it will be fun!”

“I have plans.”

“With whom?”

“How is it any of your business?”

“C’mon man, you are my bro now!”

When did she decide that?

“Umm… alrighty… sis… lemme ask you a favour. Give me some alone time ok?”

“Alright.”

She left without another word. Now even he had started to feel genuinely sorry for ticking her off like that. But the truth was he was still uncomfortable with people. And that included her. People who didn’t stick to you when you need them the most were the most untrustworthy of them all. And she belonged to the world where selfishness was default emotion in everyone. For now, however, he felt every bit rude and selfish as the world he belonged to now. Maybe he would cut her some slack. He decided he will accept the invitation to the movie. Maybe even surprise her with the tickets. He went to the movie theatre for some advance booking.

The multiplex was a world of its own. Colors he couldn’t even start getting adjusted to, shopping arenas, food stalls… and above all the crowd. It was totally different from what he saw at college. He had to look around to find the queue for the tickets. He saw someone familiar in the queue. Sure enough, it was her.

“Hey what are you doing here?”

He could feel his cheeks go red. His skin started to feel hot. He looked in general direction of the crowd.

“I kinda came to buy tickets. Y’know… for the movie.”

This time the giggle was positively girly.

“That’s so sweet! Don’t bother though. I already bought them.”

And again the annoying feeling started creeping on him again. He clearly remembered declining her offer. And yet she had the audacity to buy tickets for him. As if she was so sure he would relent. He felt manipulated. And soon unexplainable anger started building up in him. Anger not necessarily directed at her but people in general. People who thought who could use him, manipulate him.

From nowhere a memory came back to him. This memory was different from the others. Different because it wasn’t as bright as it was now. He was staring into dark space because everything was dark to him then. He could not see anything. But he could hear a tin rattling every time he moved. He could hear giggles coming from somewhere nearby. But even as he pleaded for someone to come and help him no one did. He was manipulated into coming to this unfamiliar place since they said they wanted to play a game with him. He felt a creep descending on him when he couldn’t hear the giggles any more. It took a long time for him to realize that he was the game. And they had left as soon as they were bored of it. He was admitted to a special school the next week.

And even if what was happening now wasn’t the same humiliation he felt back then he was rudely reminded that people could get scheming. The hurt look she had on her face had manipulated him into trusting her. The same way the pleading sounds of his friends when they said they wanted to play a new game and they wanted him to be a part of it.

Unable to express his anger in words he started going away or else he feared he would physically attack her.

“Hey what happened?”

“Goddamned you! Just get out of my life okay? I have had enough of this drama. The only reason I stayed back with you was because I felt sorry for you. And y’know what? If you just don’t get frickin’ out of my life I won’t feel so sorry for you and I might physically hurt you. So just get lost ok?”

“Aarush wait for a second… you don’t understand… please let me explain”

Her words trailed when she saw him stop abruptly. With his body rigid like he had a spasm of some sort he turned to her.

“What did you just call me?”

“See I can explain everything…”

“How long have you known me? Really.”

“For more than 3 months.”

“Since I was at my institute for the blind.”

“The thing is…”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes”

“Why are you following me around?”

She stared at him saying nothing.

“Listen… I swear to god… if you play dumb now…”

“Because you have my brother’s eyes.”

The last sentence rung into his ears. She continued her story when he didn’t say anything for a long time.

“Ishan bhaiyya always felt guilty about being the cause of your blindness. In fact, the Diwali he celebrated with you was the last he ever celebrated. We moved from Kolkata to Goa when I was 10. That would be just after your accident because he felt too guilty. He had lost confidence. He refused to meet anyone for the fear he might harm them as he had harmed his best friend. Over the years his confidence slowly started rebuilding and we thought he was over his guilt. But when he was diagnosed with fatal aneurysm a year ago, that’s when I realized he hadn’t really gotten over it. All of us were gloomy but he was happy that he could return to you what he had “borrowed” from you. That’s when we had come to see you at your institute. You didn’t recognize him when he spoke to you. You took him for a fellow student at the institute.”

She paused as though giving him time to digest what she had just told him.

“Before leaving for Kolkata though, he had promised me some quality time. We were going to spend an entire day together; go to an amusement park, catch up on a movie we both wanted to watch and then just chat into the night. That day never came. I thought maybe I could get a fraction of that from you. I thought, if I get to watch a movie with you, it would be something similar to watching a movie with bhaiyya. After all… you do have his eyes…”

He just stared at the ground. Now many pieces fell into pieces. Why she looked older than her age… her reaction when he said his name was Ishan… he hadn’t realized then that he had just blurted out the name of the last person he had spoken to at the institute. That was his old best friend. He couldn’t believe that in all these years of wallowing in self pity he hadn’t realized that he was turning into the very thing he hated. A selfish person.

When he looked up, she was gone.

*****

He sat in the window seat of the bus to Goa. He looked out to see a beautiful scenery. He saw a vast stretch of sand. Two kids were playing a game. One would leave footprints in them and the other tried to follow the footprints. But try as me might, the second kid always destroyed the first set and made footprints of his own. He was about to do the same thing. Leave his own footprints where his best friend’s were once. But at the same time he would try not to destroy the old ones. Ishan had given him back what he had “borrowed.” But he gave it back with interest. He had given him a sister. He felt two tickets to the movie theatre in his pocket. He was going to bring her back.

Just when I thought i had it all....

When I was an infant, I’d speak with my eyes.

I’d cry for food, And coo for a toy.

But when I learnt to speak, I needed new songs to sing.

Just when I thought I had it all, I thought of another thing.

At teenage I had new friends, My mom didn’t know about.

She’d prepared my favourite dish, But I had eaten out.

Dad treated me like a princess, To me he wasn’t the king.

Just when I thought I had it all, I thought of another thing.

Now I’m old, all friends have split, I speak a lot but no one cares.

I wish people understand my gestures, I cry to have my thoughts shared.

I wish I can have my favourite stuff, I hope for youth’s zing.

Just when I thought I had it all, I thought of another thing.

Lessons learnt

I got a mail from a friend a few days back. Wont bore you with the contents but the mail was on the lines that every person you meet, you meet for a reason. Normally forwards don’t really leave much of an impact on me… even if it is about child abuse and stuff (maybe I m just not cut out for sympathy) but I don’t know why, that mail got me thinking big time. And more I thought about it, more I realized, it is true. Alteast from my context. I have met a good many people in life. And must admit, most of them just served to boil my blood. And yet what I didn’t realize from each blood boiling session that I had learnt a new lesson every time anything happened.

• Never trust a person who never has a good word to say about any person in the whole world – every one according to the person is an idiot… and deserved the mean things he/she did to them. Never trust them coz as soon as you go out of their sight you become one of those idiots according to them. (courtesy, Frank)
• You can be in love and yet not be jealous of your “better half” when he/she speaks with members of opposite gender… all you need in life is trust in your partner and confidence in yourself. That way the relationship remains fresh without any petty differences and you remain best friends with the one you love. (mads and swap)
• Everyone can get over all their insecurities about relationships (including commitment phobia) once they meet the right one. No matter what happens, if its meant to be, it will happen. (ripper)
• Everyone says be cautious about people you meet online, never trust them etc. but sometimes the best people in the world you are meant to know are just not available in your vicinity. I have met sweetest possible guy I could have ever known in my life on the internet. There is no way any other person guy or gal can ever compete this person’s sweetness (that’s right, Mr. IIMA, talking about you)
• There is no place on earth that can be boring if you have the best possible friends in the whole wide world. You can go to the same coffee shop for more than 6 years and you will never get tired of the setting or the company coz the best times you have had in your life is with those people. Heck you can watch “tumsa nahi dekha” and still enjoy it. Friends like this last forever. (dips, prats, raj and aks)
• It doesn’t take long in life to “move on” after a break up (wont tell you who I learnt this from, I want to live for some more time)
• Girly girls don’t know a rat’s *** about football but they will always ALWAYS pretend that they support Man U. And their favourite basketball player is always Michael Jordan
• No one I know can beat Pratik as far as instruments are concerned
• The persons who you do not agree with or hate at first might just turn out to be your best friends forever… so choose before you hate someone. (Again, raj, aks, dips and prats)

There are so many things I want to write but offhand I can’t exactly put some thoughts into words. All in all I still don’t know the purpose of this blog. But I just wanted to get some junk from my brain out there. Maybe there is something for someone to learn from it. J

everything that makes us what we are

Often we tend to take everything around us for granted. We never stop to take time and think how it would be if life wasn’t the way we know it. Its like, its only when we block our airways that we realize what a relief it is to breathe. And mind you- even before blocking your nose and mouth, instinctively, you breathe in as much as air as possible- fill your lungs till it hurts. And yet, even as our instincts fight for oxygen we cant stop complaining about, say, the weird stuffy smell that is typical while traveling in a crowded bus or a train – or even the pollution which comes as a part and parcel of the air we take in to survive.

On a completely different note, I keep wondering about people who keep complaining about other factors of the society. It might be population (which we are a part of) or poverty or even educational systems for that matter. Alma mater is the biggest scape-goat of them all. Alma mater- the college which X had ended up in, because of whatever good or bad results he had acquired in his latest exams. According to X, the crowd was tacky, the buildings of his new college were too small, the campus too inconsequential. In the same inconsequential college, Mr. A joined the cultural group and turned out to be good at everything he tried his hand on and nowadays is a mini celebrity in his own right. Mr. B on the other hand was interested in sports. The grounds were bad but he gathered a like minded team nonetheless and played every sport he could possibly manage and finally got a dream job at the Army. And while they were at it, X just complained about no canteen facilities and low society crowd in the premises. The sad part is, like in mathematics, X is an unknown number- and a big one at that.

Mr. X went on to take up a job in the USA. While he used to throw used wrappers on the street when he was at college- because everybody did it and who wants to take a trip to the dustbins anyway- due to strict laws he did not dare to so much throw a dry twig on the road. Then he marveled at the cleanliness of the country. He picked up an accent and thought of it as a proof of superiority over his own people. And since it is real life and not a story he never realized the true worth of his own background, his own alma mater which shaped him into what he was, his own countrymen and in effect his own country.

Mr. A, Mr. B and Mr. X all lived as happily as life allows ever after. The only difference was- X got the best of situations and A and B made the best of situations. You can only afford to be X when u have everything ready made.