It's a battle of free will. It's a battle for free will.

In the darkest corner of my mind,
Lives a demon not so kind,
Seething with anger, breathing with angst,
Waiting to break the barriers of patience and trust.

Living in harmony with him,
Are my memories, the bad ones that is,
And an evil called temper, shows up on whim,
Together they seek to call my bluff - my inner peace.

With weapons of outbursts and silence that is poison,
They show their presence felt every time I see a horizon,
Go back to my shell I do when that happens,
Recluse is not just a word, but my world when that happens.

My mind churns out thoughts not so sublime,
Clouding my senses with dreams of nickle and dime,
Eating away what's left of my self respect,
Killing all the ideals, and principles of mine.

I fight hard to hold onto to those beliefs I have,
Of respect and honor, honesty and love,
Of the greatness of good and the goodness of great,
Of friendship, life and living it full.

Oh god I pray to thee, give me the power to be,
What I want to be, and not what others want me to be,
Grant me this one gift that I will,
And all I'm willing for is My Free Will.

I have always been kind of a loner. Not in the true sense of the word, but still my thoughts have always been different from others. I hate the "herd mentality", that feeling of going with the flow, pleasing others and living like others and seeking someone's approval. I, like many, have been fighting with myself, and with the conflicts in my mind, to maintain my individuality. I know this is a constant battle we wage, in our minds, with this whole world.

It's a battle of free will. It's a battle for free will.

A Walk to Remember! - Part I : The Humble Beginnings

"Memories behave in a strange way. They leave you alone when you are in a crowd and crowd you when you are alone" - Anonymous

As I was climbing the Himalayas, one constant thought was whittling in my mind. If I were to die then and there, will anyone remember me? Will anyone remember my childhood days and feel nostalgic. Then it hit me. Who else other than me knows about my life? No one! All that I have gone through in my life, all my day to day experiences growing up are packed away into one corner of my mind and sealed away for the rest of my life. And it is fading too, my memory that is. What I remember now, I may forget years down the line. Once erased, no amount of "Cntrl + Z" is going to bring back those memories.

Although I have tried a couple of times, I have never been the dairy keeping kinds. So, there is no written proof of anything that I have experienced. For example, if I say today that I used to shoplift when I was in school, there is hardly any proof of that now. It's a secret (not anymore!) that I've kept to myself for a long time. Should all of this trapped memory wither away into thin air as time passes by?

Or more importantly, should all of you be depraved of getting a flashback glimpse of how I've lived my life so far?

Now that isn't fair for you people is it?

In all of this rambling, I do have a point (hoot!). As I was surrounded by all those wonderful snow clad mountains and lush green (or sometimes white!) landscape, I suddenly realized that I've failed myself miserably. I've failed to put my life experiences in writing. And my memory isn't as sharp as it used to be. In midst of planning my future and making ends meet in my present, I don't want to miss out on my past. So, I decided to pen down all of those memories that have still not been wiped off. Hope to see myself reading this and reminiscing, sometime in the distant future.

To start with, this is what jogs my memory and hopefully, this will always keep me rooted to the ground, even when I reach the stars....

We come from a middle class background and until recently I seemed to have forgotten this! In fact one of the earliest memories that I have is of living in a small one bedroom rented house where in cockroaches, rats and lizards outnumbered us even before one started counting them. Not that it was unlivable. It was in fact quite a neat place thanks to my mom. But compared to the house that I live in today, it was in stark contrast to say the least. Living space apart, some of the best memories I have are the ones created in that same place. Here, I present to you, some of those memories. I have tried my best to place them in chronological order..

Circus Show!

I still remember all those childish things we did. Once, I remember that my cousin had come down to stay at our place, and me and her had this crazy idea of having a circus show inside our house. I remember that we had invited all my friends in the neighborhood for that show with the ticket priced at 25 paise :). What I also remember is that in one of the shows my cousin made me wear a saree and lipstick and pretend to be a girl! I guess we also did a play. It was hilarious I tell you. After the show, mom got really upset because my face was smeared with lipstick. But we enjoyed it as we got to buy candies with all the bounty that we had collected ;)

p.s: Even at that time, being a girl was considered circus worthy :P

Match Box Collection!

Another memory that I have of those early days is this crazy hobby that me and my neighbour had. We used to roam around all the places around our homes picking up used match boxes. And we did this for quite some time and should have collected more than a thousand varieties. The most vivid memory I have of this is the day when we set out on foot to Majestic Bus Stand. This was like a trip to Mecca for us! We left just after breakfast and by afternoon we were roaming around the streets of Prakash nagar. It was in this area (I think on Dr.Rajkumar road) that my friend found a bundle of crumpled notes worth 22 rupees (at that time we had 2 rupees note as well!). It was a big amount at that time and obviously he was very happy. But that ditcher didn't share the money with me and I was really pissed. But anyways, we continued our journey and reached majestic by late afternoon. We searched all over the place and managed to amass a huge wealth of empty match boxes. By the time we came back it was almost nightfall and we got the customary tongue-lashing from our parents. Well, they still didn't know that I had the bag with hundreds of matchboxes stuffed under the bed :D

Cigarette Dominoes!

[This beautiful photo is from Flightlessfoofaraw]

Although at that age we (me and that same neighbor friend of mine) had no clue what a domino is, we had our own version of it that we played with. We used to collect empty cigarette packets from the streets, abandoned sites, waste baskets etc...In fact one of our favorite source was the waste basket of one of the shops nearby our houses where there always seemed to be plenty of empty packs. Once we collected a reasonable number of packs, we used to arrange them in wavy lines, one next to each other until we were satisfied that we had a long enough line. This done, we would then watch in amazement as a small push on one side of the line would set in motion the concurrent tumbling of the packets which almost seemed magical. And our moms never used to complain when we brought home a bagful of empty cigarette boxes because we used to give them the golden or silver cigarette wrappers which they used in their handiwork or crafts that now adore the walls at our place!

Case of the missing Son!

One fine morning yours truly had breakfast and left home to play carom at a friend's place. The place was just about 300 meters from my place and it took me all of 5 minutes to reach it. But in my haste, I forgot to inform my parents where I was going. So while I was engrossed in a series of board pounding rounds, folks at my place started getting worried when I didn't show up for lunch. In that era of landlines-only, there was no way of keeping track of one's whereabouts, so the frantic calls were made only to the homes of known friends and neighbors. But unfortunately, the friend whose place I was at, was neither known to them nor was he our neighbor. So after hours of tensed moments, my dad finally decided to lodge a complaint with the police. All the neighbors and all nearby relatives came to our place and started consoling my mother. To my amusement, when I casually strolled into the passageway of our house in the evening, I saw a lot of people gathered inside the compound. And almost all of them seemed surprised to see me and just as I was about to enter the house, my father walked out, his face as tense as I had ever seen it to be, and gave a wonderful speech in full public view. My mother was more understanding and soon explained to me the events that had unfolded since afternoon. I came to know that if I had come home even 5 minutes late that day, my dad would have filed a "Missing Persons" report in the nearby police station! That day, I had to promise mom that I would always inform her before I leave the house.

Cricket Craze

In those times, there was no T-20, but we had our own version of it called "Short Cricket":) The rules for this version of the game were simple:

• Each Team can be comprised of any number of players



• The playing Area will be equivalent to the size of swimming pool :P



• Every team will get to play anywhere between 2 to 10 overs depending on the availability of time :o



• There is no bowling. The bowler will stand at crease and throw the ball at the batsmen (if he is smart enough he will throw it at the wicket!).



• SIX is OUT!! If the ball goes directly over the boundary, then the batsman is OUT :D



• Runs are scored in singles, twos and fours (threes' are non-existent in such short fields :D)

Ah Well... There were so many matches that we played, I can't distinguish one from the other. So many hours of my life spent in the playgrounds, roads, terraces, footpaths and gullies and all of it worthwhile. All that play has left a permanent mark on me in the form of a hard-earned sun burn :)

Housie Housie

You know how even as little kids, everyone wants to be treated like a grown up. It probably has something to do with one's psyche that being a grown up is somewhat better than being a kid. Well, you know better only after growing up into being one don't you?. But until then, that psyche remains. And true to this, I used to play "Housie" with a bunch of my cousins. We pretended to be all grown ups; moms and dads, sons and daughters and sometimes even grandmas and grandpas. We even used to have market places selling fake food grains, with plucked weeds substituting for staple, and small berries for fruits etc. Money was either various sized stones, or leaves or sometimes we just did bartering. I remember one time, on my sister's friends' terrace, we even experimented in cooking by boiling a whole handful of rice in a small pot using nothing more than a matchbox and a few dried leaves!! It was so much fun just acting a grown up. It ain't that much fun being one now...

Leap of Faith

There comes a time in everyone's life where he/she believes that anything is possible. Well, I was no different. I used to think of myself as some kind of an acrobat (and I was good at it too!). I remember one day when I had climbed one of the highwalls on the terrace at my grandmother's place possibly to prove to all my awestruck cousins as to how brave I was! Then, my brave self decided to jump from a height of 10 feet onto the ground instead of climbing it down. As soon as my feet touched ground, a jarring pain ripped through my leg and I shrieked out. I tried getting up but couldn't stand on my feet. Then my mother came up and helped me stand up. It was still paining when my mom helped me walk down the stairs and finally we went to a doctor who informed us that it was just a sprain and thankfully not a fracture. My mom kept a close watch on me and made sure I didn't do any monkey acts again...And speaking of monkey acts......

The Monkey Act

[this beautifully timed pic is by me]

If I think about it now, it feels like I had lots of free time during my childhood. And the one thing I made sure I did whenever I was free was to roam around the streets: sometimes searching for matchboxes, sometimes for cigarette boxes and other times just for the plain fun of it. And I never did it alone. There was always one or the other fellow aficionados who would join me in my search for excitement. On some of these jaunts we used to roam around streets looking for houses with a mango or a guava tree. I can remember one particular house very vividly. It was owned by a Muslim family and they had a big guava tree in their front yard. I used to love climbing up that tree and pluck guavas off the branches. It didn't matter if the fruits were raw or ripe; all that mattered was that feeling of getting up there, on our own, plucking them one by one and throwing them down where friends would be waiting with their outstretched hands, ready to catch and pocket them. It used to give us a lot of excitement not to mention the false sense of bravery, what with braving the irate house owners irk!

To be Contd...

The Little Dragon

[Photo taken at Kaoh Sok National Park, Phuket, Thailand]

Dreamgirl

I wake up to the ending note of this song,
The song that my dreams are made of.
In that lives an angel of mine,
Has hummed her way into my heart, she has.

She talks to me of things I want to listen,
And some that she wants to be heard for,
Of things that may not make sense to all,
But all the sense in the world for me they are.

She sings to me in the sweetest of voices,
Her words carry the deepest meaning of all,
And as she pauses to take a breath so precious,
The world freezes in time as if to take a bow.

She holds my hand and leads me on a walk,
Under a moonlit sky where the stars do stalk,
Each step we take reaffirms my faith in love and fate,
She pledges herself to me, Says she's forever mine.

But then I wake up and realize the song has ended,
And I'm sad that the angel has gone.
But then I realize my search also has ended,
And I'm glad I've found my angel, baby, You're the one.

The Solemn Swing

I swing, and swing and swing away my blues,
And surprise myself by finding comfort in recluse.
With the solemn swing taking its place in my thoughts,
My fear and my anxiety are splattered in hues.

Without saying a word, I shout out my thoughts,
At last I am able to connect all the dots.
I make peace with the ever pushing winds,
At last I am not a part of the 'have nots'.

I swing, and swing and swing away my blues,
And surprise myself by finding comfort in recluse.
With the solemn swing taking its place in my thoughts,
My fear and my anxiety are splattered in hues.

-- Photo Taken at Nisargadhama, Coorg

5 Better Ways to utilize your Meeting Time!

We all know how wonderfully boring it is to sit in a meeting where all people do is nothing but ramble and ramble all day about pointless points. Hell, in the cosmic sense, things discussed in such meetings probably have .00000000000000000000000000000000000001% significance! (quote inspired from a famous Calvin strip).

So in the spirit of brotherly love and sharing, caring and all other things un-gayishly inbetween, I decided to compile a list of ways in which one can utilize the time spent in meetings; better. Here goes my list of 5 ways to better utilize your time in meetings:

1.
Since you already have a pen with you (assuming that you are one of those who goes to meetings with a pen and a book. If you are not, then skip to point 2), you can draw caricatures with that on an empty sheet of paper. Some of you ungrateful ones may say, 'Well duh! That we already do!!'. Hey, I know you guys do it! But can you do this?

Note: This technique is highly recommended for those who are searching for a legal ways of vaporizing bosses. However , if this doesn't work, then you can purchase that vaporizer at http://megachromatovaporizer4bosses.com

2.
Assuming that you would have gone out to take that pen and book after looking at option 1 (for those who still don't have a book and a pen, go to option 3), open the last page of the book, and start writing the screen play & dialogues for the climax of a classic movie where your boss is the hero:

Gabbar (You): Naach Basanthi Naach!!

Basanthi (your friendly neighbor-cubicle babe): Anything for you Gabbar Darling! (She approaches the nearest pole).

Veeru (Your Boss): Basanthi..In kutto ke saamne mat naachna!

Basanthi: Mein aapke saamne thodi hi naach rahi hoon.. ?

You: Aiyya Veerudu. I am ready, The girl is ready. What is your probelm?

Your Boss: Basanthi ke pas kya hein jo mujhme nahin? Kyu uske peeche bhag rahe ho?

You (confirmed that your boss swings all ways!): Uske paas ek cheez hein jo tumhare paaas nahin hein. In fact, uske paas do cheez hein jo tumhare paas nahin hein.

Your Boss: (Cheeks pink with blush) : You mean her ....?

You: Yes I mean her.... Head and the brain inside it.

Basanthi impressed by your wit comes running to you and you both elope to the nearest coconut grove to make lo....errr... sing a duet.

Your boss approaches the nearest Pole!

--The End--

3.
Assuming that Option 2 would have brought out the creativity in you and you would have excused yourself from the meeting and got the book and the pen (for those of you who don't believe in this pen business, go to option 5), open any page of the book (the relative position of the page is of no interest to the Vaastu Gods) and start writing a small poem to describe your situation:

As the gentle but strong winds blow,
My mind wanders and my strained thoughts flow,
Wonder they do what would have happened if,
I had an extra pen, I would've probably color coded this.

(After some search you find that extra pen and you use that as well for adding the artist's touch to your poem)

As the fire in me burns, and forms ashes of my patience,
I use this second pen to calm my nerves and quell my impatience,
But then I use the first one again, and the fire is ignited again,
And by the time I finish this line, I will be impatient again.

-- Chandan

4.
Tear some sheets from the book and use your Kindergarten Crafts knowledge (in case you don't have one, then use your jazzy phone to call one of your kindergarten cousins for help!) to make boats out of those sheets. Statistically speaking, the number of boats that you make should be equal to the number of sheets that you tore (But don't worry about statistics now...that's for the other people listening to the presentation). Anyways, once you make suitable number of boats, number them starting from 1 and write the numbers on the back of each boat. Now pass one boat to each of the people sitting in the meeting and ask them to hold the boat upside down and see the number.

Once they see the number, ask them to memorize it. This step is important as this is the point where in, they will stop listening to the guy giving the presentation and start concentrating on your boats. Once all of them seemed to have memorized their numbers, take back the boats and shuffle them. Again pass the boats to each of them and ask to see if any of them have got the same number again, If they have, then they are out and they can no longer participate in this game but instead have to go back to listening to the presentation.

Continue game until only one person is left or the meeting time is over. Whichever comes first.

Note: For increased participation, clearly tell them what the losers have to do. You will automatically see a dramatic increase in the number of people getting different boat numbers each time!

5.
If you still haven't, then go and get that pen and book........NOW!

GO TO STEP1;

END;

p.s: Thought of this post while sitting in one such boring meetings. Hope you guys will find this useful some day :D

30 QTag

I picked up this tag from Sailor. Let's see how many of these questions I can answer honestly!

1)What is your occupation?
SE cum Code Coolie. And yeah, I am also responsible for wiping my clients you-know-what.
2)What colour are your socks now?
Between Black and Grey. Strange color you might ask. That's what happens to black socks after 2 years :D
3)What are you listening to now?
A.R. Rehman ('Masakali' from Delhi-6, 'Jai-Ho' from Slumdog, 'Kaise-Mujhe' from Ghajini)
4)What was the last thing you ate?
At the time of posting this.....Methi Roti for Breakfast
5)Can you drive a stick shift?
Yep. And would you believe it... I can fly those things :P
6)Last person you spoke to on phone?
My Mom
7)Do you like the person who sent you this?
Who Sailor? He is strange, irritable and rants all the time... Well duh! I can see myself in him :D
8)How old are you today?
24 Y, 8 M exactly! (my bday is on 28th May)
9)What is your favourite sport to watch on TV?
Football
10)What are your favourite drinks?
Anything that doesnt have pesticide in it.
11)Have you ever dyed your hair ?
Nope.
12)Favourite food?
Anything prepared by Mom
13)Last movie watched?
Raaz
14)Favourite day of the year?
May 28th :)
15)How do you vent out your anger?
Meditation or writing a blog post. Recently have devised a new strategy to count my fingers backwards. Try it. hold you right hand in the front, fingers stretched and palm facing your face. Now fold your thumb and say 1. Next fold your little finger and say 2. Proceed till only one finger is left streched :)
16)Favourite toy as a child?
I believe it was my sister :D Yeah i know, i am a very bratish brother :D
17)Favourite season?
Winter, I love the Cold.
18)Do you want your friends to email you?
Yes. Especially those forwards... keep 'em coming..
19)When was the last time you cried?
No comment.
20)What is on the floor of your closet?
My old Jersey, an abandoned badminton racket, an iron box which I rarely use and some books which i don't remember reading.
21)Who is the friend you have had the longest?
Gopi and KS.. since 11th
22)What did you do last night?
Slept rather uncomfortably with an aching back :(
23)What are you most afraid of?
Water and Waves
24)Plain,cheese or spicy hamburger?
None
25)Favourite dog breed?
Labrador
26)Favorite day of the week?
Sunday... No better day for lazing around..
27)How many states have you lived in?
Let's see here: Depressed, Pain, Sad, Anger, Dull, Happy, Excited, Over-Excited, Orgasmic etc..
28)Diamond or pearl?
(They sound like two programming languages) Neither!!
29)What is your wish for this new year?
1. I somehow manage to get a lot of money
2. Find a permanent cure to boredom
3. World Peace!! .........Nah..Make peace with myself
30)New year resolutions?
Click Here

Now I tag any of those reading this...(esp. Rahul, Srivatsa, Vasishta, Manjunath, and Bhumika) :)

The Window to my Life

‘I can see light!’ exclaimed he with delight,
The joy on his face was worth all days that were night.
After a long time had his lips curved the other way around,
He had found his window after an ordeal of solitude-abound.

The light was inviting and carried with it a luring vision,
A vision that bespoke of ever lasting happiness and fun,
Of long walks, cosy dinners and night strolls,
Of adoring looks, sweet talks and friendly brawls.

The light was hope, that which he had given up on,
A hope that glimmered, leaving the darkness bygone.
It was hope, that which he had banished from his heart,
A hope that flickered the feelings of being torn apart.

The wind played its part by gently nudging him forward,
‘Take a look outside’, it whispered without speaking a word.
He heeded to the voice that echoed in his ears,
And slowly began to erase the memories and fears.

As he inched closer and closer to the light,
He could see more and more of life with each sight.
As he cradled the sill, he took in the vision in all its bright,
Atlast the light was in him for he was in light.

‘I can see light!’ exclaimed he with delight,
The joy on his face was worth all the days that were night.
After a long time had his lips curved the other way around,
He had found his window after an ordeal of solitude-abound.

This poem is an alter-emotion to the earlier poem called Solitude. While Solitude talked of the darker days in my life, in this poem I have tried to capture the transition from solitude to light. Hope you liked it!

What Lies Beneath! - A True Story

Preface: A Sindhi Affair!

Before we get to the crux of this POST(which is well highlighted in the title), let me try to give this post a proper start!

Recently, me and three of my friends traveled all the way from Bangalore to Athani (Near Bijapur) to attend one of our best friend's wedding. The wedding must have been a typical Sindhi Affair (I say must have been because I don't have any other reference Sindhi wedding to compare it against!) given the fact both the grooms and both the brides were Sindhis and what better way to marry off Sindhis than to have a typical Sindhi wedding (wah!). Forgive my poor jokes for my humor is broke!


For those of you who read past my humour, you might have noticed that I mentioned two grooms and two brides? Yes, this wedding was very unique from all the other few weddings that I have attended. This was a wedding of two brothers (with different brides of course) one of whom was our best friend.

There you go! Now isn't that a proper start? Nope? I know I know. I am a little rusty. Please bear with me. Let's see if I can capture your attention for a little more time....

Note: The following is a chance discovery of cleverly concealed deceptions and untold truths by a group of smart, intelligent, inquisitive and curious youths. Any resemblance to any other similar discoveries made by anyone else in the world should be treated as heights of coincidence!

The Secrets of the Tomb!


The four of us left Bangalore on Friday night and reached Bijapur on Saturday Morning. We finished up our breakfast and, since the wedding ceremonies were to start only in the evening, we decided we had enough time to visit the world famous Gol Gumbaz. So, the four of us took(I mean boarded) an autorickshaw and arrived at Gol Gumbaz, just like any other normal tourists, completely oblivious to the mysteries that destiny would have us unravel.


"Gol Gumbaz is the mausoleum of Mohammed Adil Shah (1627-57) of the Adil Shahi dynasty of Indian sultans, who ruled the Sultanate of Bijapur from 1490 to 1686."


Well that is what Adil Shah wanted everyone to believe. But I am about to reveal to you, one of the best kept secrets of the world. The catastrophes that would befall on the four of us for revealing this secret, is unknown. But in the spirit of RTIA(Right to Information Act 2005) and a general sense of VALIANCE, we have decided to brave all the bad omens (some of which include ,us turning into pigs, us getting mauled by angry cows etc.. ) and share this secret with you........

Real Identity of Adil Shah... Or shall we say Adil Shahi?


When we entered the main edifice of Gol Gumbaz that was the tomb, undercurrents of skepticism crept up into the deep recesses of our inquisitive minds and slowly but surely we became convinced that something was not quite right.
For instance:

1. The actual tomb that was present in the center was too small for Adil Shah (as we would discover after seeing his pictures later).
2. There were these openings in the floor which revealed a huge Cellar underneath (if it was indeed a tomb, then why a cellar underneath? Unless.......yeah i know.... what? oh yeah.. unless they wanted enough space underneath to visit the tomb once in a while.. more on this later...)
3. The Whispering Gallery on the Top of the dome (the one in which even whispers can be heard from one end to the other end) was very out of place for a mausoleum. Later we found out that this was built so as to divert attention from a different place (again..more on this later)

The reasons were there..not apparent to the naked eyes may be, but these were evidence enough for keen observers like us to question the authenticity of information in the history books(it's a different thing that no one remembers them anyway.. but still!).


After having left the Gol Gumbaz with potent skepticism, we were walking back to the gates, when by sheer chance, we spotted the Archaeological Museum which was conveniently hidden away in front of the Gol Gumbaz. All of us unanimously decided to venture into the depths of this museum in the hope of discovering (or rather re-discovering) the truths of the Tomb.
What followed next was a series of revelations in the form of hidden clues in symbols, pictures, crockery, paintings, maps, stone statues etc....The first of these clues was an engraving that we saw etched into some of the stone statues. Here is a rough sketch of what we saw:

I know it is a little hard to understand for us non-artists given the abstract nature of the art, but let me try to give you a toned-down, simplistic explanation of the art. In-fact, we had more than one explanation for what these symbols represent:

1. On the Day of the Full Sun and Half Moon, go to the place where there is Linga and you will find your next clue.
2. The three symbols represent the three prominent religions/beliefs that were prevalent during the Adil Shahi period- Islam (crescent moon) , Hindu (Linga) and a third previously and currently unknown (Full moon.. a bit like Priori of Scion).

In fact, in one of the Historical Maps that was also showcased in the museum, we tried to find a place where there was Linga, but alas, there were none which matched the description from the symbols.Just when we were thinking of giving up, we came across this Advanced version of the symbols in a few of the stone structures:

I say Advanced because of the addition of living creatures into what is primarily a metaphorical symbolism of non-living..err...things. What captured our attention was the striking disparity between the features of the mama animal and the baby animal. The mama animal looked like a one-horned Unicorn while the baby animal looked like a fusion of various different forms of creatures. This horrifying image was our clue#1.

We then moved onto the first floor, the technicolor images of the mama & baby animal still firmly etched in our minds, when we happened to discover the painting of Chand BiBi - the apparent wife of Adil Shah. Rahul, one of my fellow aficionados in mystery fictions, pointed out the slightly mannish features of the person in the painting. Also, the name Chand had a resonating effect in our minds. Could this be a subtle reference to the symbol of Crescent Moon ? This was our clue#2.

Finally after covering almost the entire first floor, we came across the Armor section, where, to our utter shock and disbelief, was displayed the Armor of Adil Shah.

It was a women's Armor!

The shape, size and indention at curious spots were unmistakable. It was indeed a women's Armor. This formed our final clue - clue#3.

As we were getting down from the first floor of the Museum, we put our heads together and tried to crack all the clues.

Clue #1: Baby Animal looking out of place and different from Mama Animal

Clue #2: Chand Bibi the apparent wife of Adil Shah had slightly mannish but mainly womannish features as pointed out in the pics.

Clue #3: Women's Armor for Adil Shah.

We put two and two together (actually 1, 2 and 3 together) and...... the conclusion was ground breaking and unanimous..... Adil Shah was not Adil Shah. He was in fact Adil Shahi!

There was no Chand Bibi. It was a fictitious character created to hide the ignominy that would destroy the Shahis. We confirmed this by looking at the Family Tree of the Shahis. What we saw there was both shocking and substantiating at the same time. Below Adil Shah, we saw entries marked D, D, S , S which was an abbreviation for Daughters and Sons UNKNOWN!

We ran back down to the ground floor and looked all around to see if there were any more clues, any more leads, anything that would lead us to the final truth of this whole Masquerade and lo behold, standing right at the center of the museum was a 20 feet long majestic cylindrical structure (mimicking a rather rotund woman) - THE TRUE TOMB OF ADIL SHAHI a.k.a CHAND BIBI!

We had tears in our eyes. We looked at each other in both amazement and a sense of elation. We slowly walked out of the Museum with a new found knowledge and rib cracking laughters...

Epilogue:

As I post this today, I don't know what fate holds out for me. I don't know if what I did is right or wrong. I just wanted to share this information with all of you irrespective of the consequences. If ever, the bad omens catch up to me and I turn into a pig or get mauled by a cow, promise me that you will pass this information onto more people. Because pigs can get rather lonely :D

Disclaimer: A work of pure fiction and non-sensical imagination. If I have offended the sentiments of anyone, I apologize.

The Dance of Fall

Note:

Falling leaves have always captured my attention. In fact, one of my favorite opening phrase (which given a chance, I would use in every single poem!) has always been 'As the wind blows', which again is closely tied to my fascination with falling leaves. By now, you guys are well aware of my absurdities, so it should come as no surprise to you that I decided to write a poem on falling leaves..I have used simple metaphors to bring out the irony of the "falling" leaves' "rejoice"... You will have to make that connection to truly appreciate this poem :)

[Photo Courtesy: Google Image Search]

The leaves merry around the swiveling air,
Dancing to the tune that he prepares,
Seemingly blissful in their joyful yonder,
They do make me yearn in sinful wonder.

There is a certain rejoice in their fall,
As though all the time in this world is theirs to stall,
And with a grace matched only by their sway,
They dance to the rhythm, while death keeps at bay.

A sudden gush lifts them up to greater heights,
They feel all lighter, much to their delights,
They brush aside wisps of dust off their backs,
And fly higher and higher, mimicking the windy clacks.

But then strikes death with a sudden whip,
The wind beneath them moves on, giving them a slip,
They dance their last dance as they sway their last sway,
And their last few steps, they just wiggle away.

As I watch them gently touch ground,
I can't help but gape and wonder astound,
"If a leaf can enjoy it's brief freedom with such gusto,
Why cant't we enjoy ours, with much the same glow?"

There is a lesson to be learnt by us all,
From the leaves that dance while they fall,
If we could smile our way through worries and stand tall,
Then we would have learnt that dance - "The Dance of Fall".

Urban Tales - The Elevator

The elevator squeaked and droned, as if annoyed at being woken up from its slumber. I could hear that annoyance in its voice, as it rose up angrily and noisily, menacing its way up through the free space, that was its shackles.

‘Shit! This is gonna take forever. I wish I could just take the stairs!’, I cursed to myself. But after the accident that had broken my leg and weakened my knees, my doctor had advised me to avoid taking stairs as much as possible.

And thirteen floors of stairs was ‘much’!!

Finally, the elevator stopped its ascent, and, with a speed that rivaled the saunter of a one-legged tortoise, opened up its doors to reveal the most beautiful face that I had ever seen in my life.

‘Hello?? Are you ok?’

Her words brought me out of my daze and I mumbled something in return. She in turn looked at my crutch and gave a sympathetic smile, forming that perfect curve with those wonderful lips. I dropped my gaze, lest she thought of me as some pervert, and stepped into the elevator.

As the doors closed, I could feel the air around me getting a little warmer and my heart started to beat a little faster. A drop of sweat appeared on my forehead, as if put there, magically, to complete the picture of bewitchment on my face. I looked at her face to check if she had sensed my discomfort, but she seemed oblivious to it. The elevator doors closed, and in its characteristic nonchalance, it started its lumber to the pits. Meanwhile the silence between us grew heavier and heavier. I was thinking of some witty line to break the ice, when suddenly she spoke up.

‘I thought I was the only one working so late. You new to this company? I have never seen you around before’.

Well I did have a mathematical answer for that. Each floor in our company had about two hundred people working in various shifts, with almost sixty percent of them thirty-something men like me. And with a total of seventeen floors in this building, there were roughly two thousand faces like me. There were just too many faces to look at, leave alone remembering them.

But somehow, I thought giving a mathematical answer was not the best of ways to make a first impression. So, instead, I chose to give a non-committal reply.

‘Well. I guess we might have crossed paths before’.

I thought it was a pretty good attempt and it sounded witty too! But she just nodded her head and turned her face to the other side. Meanwhile, the elevator made its customary stop at the twelfth floor. It had been almost two years since this new office was built, and by now, people were convinced that this elevator had some defect in it, which made it to stop at every floor of the building.

‘It’s not safe to take this elevator. Especially at night times, she whispered slowly.
Her sudden change in demeanor caught me off guard.

‘Do you know it could even prove to be fatal?’

‘Gulp.. What is she talking about?’, I started feeling a little nervous.

‘About two years back, one of the employees who was working very late, took this same elevator and when it was somewhere at the ninth floor, the cable snapped and the elevator just plunged down and hit the floor. The next morning, they found the body. The whole face was mangled up and was barely recognizable. Ever since that, a lot of people believe that this elevator is haunted…………... What do you think?’

If she was trying to scare me, she was doing a pretty good job. I looked at her neck, to see if there were any marks or something. I am not sure why, but somehow I started to believe that this elevator was indeed haunted.

‘May be’, I managed to feign a composed response.

She again turned her face to the front. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. We were approaching the ninth floor now. She looked at me now and then looked at the display panel. The number 9 was displayed in blood red….

I could feel the hair on my back stand up. I was sweating profusely now.

‘Are you getting afraid?’, she asked me in a tone which made it sound more like a threat than a concern.

‘No no. I don’t believe in ghosts.’

‘Really? How come? For all you know that ghost could be standing right next to you’.

She said it with such sincerity that I couldn’t help but feel scared, my nerves tingling with apprehension. I closed my eyes and started praying to god. I did not want to spend any more time in this elevator.

‘Open your eyes. We have reached the ground fl….Hello?? Where did you go?............Oh my god!! You are...??’

I opened my eyes and much to my astonishment, I was greeted by the sight of my own cubicle. I looked to my right and the girl was not there. Somehow, in the split second between hearing her last words and opening my eyes, she had vanished. But it was over now.

'Just like Ground Hog Day', I mumbled to myself as the reality of the situation sunk in.

I looked at my monitor and it stared back at me, angrily, as if annoyed at having been deserted. Having accepted the bitter truth, I stepped out of the elevator. And with each step that I took, the memory of the girl began to erase itself, cell by cell, until I reached my cubicle when the memory faded completely. The monitor was calling me now. I had to test my code. I had a deadline to meet. I sat on the chair and switched on my monitor.


Epilogue:

I had been working very late. I was supposed to finish testing my code. The clock on my monitor reminded me that it was waaay past bed time. No wonder I was felling all lazed up. I decided to retreat for the day and get back to the boxing the next day.

‘Nothing like getting punched by one’s work!’, I muttered to myself.

I shut off my monitor and made myself down to the elevator lobby. I could not hear or see anyone else in the building.

‘Just my luck’, I thought to myself as I called the Elevator.

The elevator squeaked and droned, as if annoyed at being woken up from its slumber. I could hear that annoyance in its voice, as it rose up angrily and noisily, menacing its way up through the free space, that was its shackles.

‘Shit! This is gonna take forever. I wish I could just take the stairs!’, I cursed myself. But after the accident that had broken my leg and weakened my knees, my doctor had advised me to avoid taking stairs as much as possible.

And thirteen floors of stairs was ‘much’.

Finally, the elevator stopped its ascent, and, with a speed that rivaled the saunter of a one-legged tortoise, opened up its doors to reveal the ugliest looking guy that I had ever seen in my life.

‘Hi. Going down?’…………..


Author’s Note:
For those of you who are wondering what is so special about this post, go back and read it again… this time, very carefully and tell me, is there actually a ghost in the elevator?

Colors of Life

[Photo Courtesy : Google Image Search]

It is not always this colorful. There are times when it is a little bright, when the force of nature is strong enough to force open the crack a little. But that has happened only three or four times so far and I don’t see it happening again. Otherwise it is mostly pitch dark. Dark enough to be considered a night. But it’s been so long since I saw daylight, I have lost the sense of time. But not today…

I had woken up to a shrieking sound. It had been so loud that my ears had started hurting. My awakening senses had told me that it had been my own shriek. When I had realized why I shrieked it made me want to shriek all over again.

I can still remember that day. We were supposed to have dinner together at Leela’s. “Nothing fancy honey, Just a small dinner to celebrate our reunion” I had told her on the phone. I could almost see her beaming at the phone. She knew it would be anything but small. Last year, just before I left, she had asked me to give her something through which she can remember me by and I had decorated our entire living room wall with all our pictures – right from our college days till last week when we had been to Ooty for our honeymoon.

‘Every time you miss me, just look at these pictures and remember all the wonderful moments that we have shared together. And if you still miss me, then good. I will feel bad if you don’t !’

The look on her face when she saw that was more worth than anything that she could have given to me in return. If I knew that was the last time I would be looking at her face, then I would have looked at it a little longer.

It had been almost eight months since I had seen her and I couldn't wait to get back to her.

‘Small and you? That’s highly impossible… Huh? Your son says that daddy is lying’

‘Daughter, not son. I have told you it will be a daughter. And tell him… no her that daddy never lies. He just modifies the truth sometimes to surprise mommy!’

‘OK OK… It’s a daughter. Now keep the phone and get back here soon. We both are missing you’

‘Miss you too. See you tomorrow. Bye’

Click! That was the last thing I had said to her. ‘See you tomorrow’. That tomorrow is yet to come.

After that call I had boarded the ill-fated plane back to Bangalore. My smile must have stayed on after the call because people sitting next to me immediately responded to my look with a warm smile. I was still smiling when the first wave of turbulence started. None of us except the first timers gave it a second thought. Then a second wave started and I could see most of the passengers getting up from their sleep. But still none of us were concerned as this was common. Not necessarily good, but common.
Suddenly there was a crackling sound and the sound of air rushing in. Before we could react the body of the plane tilted and life inside the plane was thrown out of gear. The oxygen masks apparently had popped open but gravity was keeping it to the now upside down roof as the plane made full use of this new found freedom to fall free. During all of this a sharp piece of metal cut loose from somewhere and landed right into my face and my eyes were too dazed to react. A searing pain spread through my face and soon took over the whole of my body. I gave out a deathly shriek. My whole body started jerking desperately trying to free my still latched seat belt after realizing that my hands were stuck, but the belt wouldn't budge. Just as I was about to give up, the door gave way and a gush of air rushed into the plane sending a fresh panic wave to everyone inside. There was chaos everywhere as some of the seat belts cut loose and people were flayed from their seats and fell through the open door.

My seat belt suddenly cut loose and I started falling towards the door. I didn't care. All I wanted to do at that point in time was to cover my face. The pain was just unbearable. As soon as I lifted my hands to cover my face, I realized that I had gone right through the open door….


Looking back now, I think that was what saved me. If I hadn't fallen right through the open door, I wouldn't be here. Very few of us survived the crash And those who did, just barely made out alive. We were rescued by the Coast Guard and taken to the Navy hospital. The doctors said that I was lucky to have lived after that horrendous fall.

‘When that seat belt cut, you were a hundred feet above the sea. You fell from a hundred feet into the freezing sea and you survived. You know the chances of that happening? Zero. What can you call it other than a miracle?’

When I finally went home after a year of treatment and therapy, I couldn't be a happier person. I am home, I thought. After all that has happened, I am home. Every day since that has been a gift. And I keep telling myself that everyday lest I forget…

‘Daddy daddy.. See this drawing that I have done. Isn't it colorful..?’

‘Sweetie don’t you know that daddy cannot see? Why don’t you tell him what all you have drawn?’

‘Huh ok.. There is a garden and lots of flowers … Red roses, Yellow lilies and pink…..’

It had never been so colorful…. I knew that it would be as beautiful as my child’s face. How I wish I could see her face at least one time. May be next time I told to myself. May be next time the force of nature will be strong enough to open that crack a little more.

My Innermost Thoughts - Part V: Are we a generation with a lost cause? Probably not..

Our great grandpas and great grandmas would have been happy to hear this if they were still alive. Happy that we are lucky enough to live in a period which can safely be claimed as the most peaceful in recent times. What they would obviously miss to see is that, this is also the dullest in recent times. Now you might think ‘Well that’s not a bad thing, eh?’. It certainly isn’t. We are just talking about mundane work, routines which tend to take the word dull to new found levels and a life whose only purpose seems to be “to live through”!

As pragmatic a thought that it may be, it still leaves you with a sense of emptiness. It leaves you with a feeling of having missed out on something big and having lost that opportunity to be part of something grand and something which probably changed the world. That would make a story worth telling to your grand kids, wouldn’t it? Now just because I want to live through a life full of action and world changing moments doesn’t mean that I am wishing for another World War or another Tsunami. No doubt the Tsunami was one heck of a moment in our lives which would qualify as one among the top 10 list of stories that I would like to share with my grand kids. But would this be all? Sharing stories of natural calamities and how people died in them? In case I have failed to make my point yet, here it goes. I wish to live through a time where something revolutionary happened. Things like ‘Civilization - Harappa and Mohenjodaro’, ‘Industrial Revoution’, ‘Modernization’ and many more such events in history that can be remembered even now with awe. May be I have got it all wrong! These were not moments in history but rather an evolutionary phase spread across centuries. So may be we are living through one such phase in history.

But which phase would that be? A post modernization phase? Or going by the recent trends, an Oil Depletion phase perhaps? The most appropriate one would seem to be a ‘Global Warming’ phase. A phase where the whole of civilization became so power hungry that they depleted all the Oil in the World, ate all the plants and animals, cut down all the trees, drank all the water, and duplicated enough to have more people per square foot of land than the other way round. Yeah, this is probably what we will be remembered for.

I remember one of the jokes that my friends shared with me, which I would like to share here:
One of his lecturers had this habit of exaggerating everything. One day, the lecturer came to the class and told everyone how he had heroically fought a python. After the lecturer stopped with his version of the story, one of the “back bench” boys came up with this quick reply to the Professor: (conversation reconstructed)

Quick witted Boy: ‘Sir, I have seen two snakes fight with each other”
Professor: ‘Oh is it! Good, share it with us then.
Quick witted Boy: ‘The two snakes started eating each other’s tails and in the end both of them vanished!’
Professor:

I was just thinking of those two virtual snakes and relating those to people. With the third World War almost definitely thought to be for resources, it wouldn’t be long before people start fighting each other for food, water and shelter and worst even; turning to Cannibals. This is probably what we will be remembered for…

Did you say a lost cause? Well, we can start by fighting Global Warming.. That sounds like a cause to me.

A video on Global Warming

My Innermost Thoughts - PART IV : Is the grass greener elsewhere?

Chapter 2 : THE UPRISING - Revenge of the Cows

For those of you who have read my earlier article on an analogy between Cows and Software engineers, I am sure the article would have left a feeling of Deja-vu. Yes our routines seemingly take on the same form as the routine grazing of a cow. And yes, we do are required to yield more milk than we can provide to suffice the un-quenchable thirst of the Milkman. But take heart my dear friends, there is hope for us all. Just as Uma Thurman can dig her way out from 100 feet under the ground (Kill Bill anyone?), we can moo our way out of this work-trap with our bare errr….you better watch this video!

My Innermost Thoughts - PART IV : Is the grass greener elsewhere?

Chapter 1 : The Present Day

Defintion:

COW:

Cattle, colloquially referred to as cows (though technically cow refers only to female bovines), are domesticated ungulates, a member of the subfamily Bovinae of the family Bovidae. They are raised as livestock for meat (called beef and veal), dairy products (milk), leather and as draft animals (pulling carts, plows and the like). In some countries, such as India, they are honored in religious ceremonies and revered. It is estimated that there are 1.3 billion cattle in the world today

Software Engineer:

Code coolies, colloquially referred to as software engineers (though engineer is just a reference to a marginally held degree), are domesticated “primates”, a member of the subfamily Homosapiens. They are raised as livestock for work (called code and project), daily labor (billed per hour) and as draft animals (pressing keys, staring at monitor and the like). In some countries, such as India, they are honored in “virtual” ceremonies and neglected. It is estimated that there are potentially infinite software engineers in India today.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Scene 1: Somewhere near the greener pastures…..

As the sun rises above the horizon, the cows wake up and “moo” in unison. They realize what lies ahead of them. The milkman enters with an empty canister and a yawn on his face. He bends down on his knees, rolls up his sleeves and starts milking the cows. He fills up the canister but he is not satisfied. He wants more milk, as greed is thoroughly rooted in his mind. He gets more empty vessels and milks them high and dry leaving them exhausted.

The cows watch him leave and breathe a sigh of relief. They again moo in unison, but this time in premature joy. After a while the milkman enters again. He is angry as hell for the milk was diluted. Sensing his anger the cows moo again. They all have the same thoughts in their bovine minds: “Well, that is what you get, if you feed us so lame”. He shouts at them and brings the canister again. Then the circus starts all over again.

Scene 2: Everywhere else where the pastures were greener before….

As the sun rises above the horizon, the techies enter their cubicles and “sigh” in unison. They realize what lies ahead of them. The Manager enters with an empty thought and a frown on his face. He stands on his toes, cracks his knuckles, and starts assigning work to the techies. He fills up his daily work allocation but he is not satisfied. He wants more work to be done, as “his appraisal” is thoroughly rooted in his Head (note the absence of Mind here :D). He assigns more work and milks them high and dry leaving them exhausted, suffocated and depressed.

The techies watch him leave and breathe a sigh of relief. They again sigh in unison, but this time in premature joy. After a few seconds the Manager enters again. He is angry as hell for yesterday’s work was undocumented. Sensing his anger the techies sigh again. They all have the same thoughts in their “half fried” minds: “Well, that is what you get, if you lead us so lame”. He shouts at them and assigns some more work again. Then the circus starts all over again.

To be continued…..

Ps: Click here for more such Inner thoughts...

Solitude

[Photo Courtesy: Chandan]

My days are lost in thoughts off late,
Searching for ways for this pain to abate,
My needs are strong, my pain is real,
Lest you think this is all surreal.

As each day passes by with my cries unheard,
The darkness creeps in on me; the light is withered,
Flashing images of days gone by,
Keeps me sane, on these lonely nights.

As I walk on with my gait strayed in line,
My gaze wanders searching for a friend near by,
As I turn back my hope fades away,
For I have lost even my shadow, somewhere on the way.

Alone I sit and stare at the mirror,
Perhaps hoping for another reflection to appear,
Standing by my side whilst I stare into those eyes,
A ray of hope gleaming from those into mine.

A life such as mine sans all fanfare,
Hollows out when turned inside out,
My thoughts are strayed and life's in despair,
Live I do, in fear of solitude.

Mon Bon Ami

My cheeks are soaked with tears dropping nigh,
The eyes are sore from an anguish cry,
Is this the beginning of a rift from thy?
Ask myself I do, as each day passes by.

For this is a hardship , that I can't face,
Too weak I am, to let it grace,
Remember I do, of those good old days,
When thy would accept my sinful ways.

Don't let this sin of mine cloud your senses,
For sinned I have, but didn't mean no offenses,
Hurt you, I may've, with my actions so frayed,
But remember my friend, we have crossed those fences.

This is my last forlorn effort towards redemption,
Tell me my friend what is your presumption.
Are we still good, ol' friend of mine?
I shall promise thy, never again shall I cross the line.

You can't break me

You can try as hard as you may,
My will is too strong to give away,
I have fought many a demons in my life,
Humbled and defeated,in my past they lie.

Not long ago in the past,
At its peak was my chagrin in you,
For all the hardshsips thrown at me,
Thought I, that a befitting reply was due.

The harships I've faced has thickened my skin,
Grown I have accustomed to your ways,
May be there is a meaning to all that you do,
It's essence is what gives me hope of better days.

So bring it on , I shall bear no grudge,
Ready I am, to face the full brunt of your force,
Let the mind games begin,
After all, it's high time I settle some scores.

In time I shall be strong enough to stand up to you,
Look you in the eye without a twitch,
And with the utmost conviction shall I say,
"You can't break me, try as hard as you may".


A small attempt to depict the conflict of my mind. One part of me has exuberant confidence whereas the other side still is lost in an ocean of self doubt and low self confidence. This is a conversation that my stronger side is having with my weaker side. A little of coming out of a shell you see :) I hope you liked it.

My Innermost Thoughts - Part III : Mind of a confused soul

~ Mind Over matter ~

The secret of living a life of excellence is merely a matter of thinking thoughts of excellence. Really, it's a matter of programming our minds with the kind of information that will set us free. - Charles R. Swindoll

[Caution: Extreme philosophy. Not for the light hearted or my blog haters. Criticism is welcome as long as it is unbiased and by that I mean in my favor :)]

"There is an unruly feeling in the crowd. They can be found most of the time staring blankly at their screens. The ocassional click of the mouse is the only thing which signals that they are still alive. The pressure of performance is showing on their faces. This is a do or die situation for an otherwise easy-come-easy-go merry making kinds. The time has come to prove a point and they can't seem to map that point anywhere on the graph because the graph is so vast that there is a problem of plenty(of points). Even after mapping the point, there is that fear of the point becoming obscured and slowly growing itself to encompass other points ,thus widening the focus required.The only consolation they have is the faith and belief in the system which has proven time and again that failures are accepted,albeit once."

Sounds philosophical? It is far from it. This is a scenario of a typical Software company when freshers join and are slowly bridging the gaps to cross over from college life to professional life. Imagine yourself to be standing in front of a hundred new recruits and looking at their unsure faces and trying to make sense out of the awkwardness they are feeling about the whole situation. They are being "trained" to be Professionals and you are imparting that training. Sounds scary? It's far from it..

I recently had this chance of being part of the learning program for the freshers and sharing some "Gyaan" that I have gathered in one year of my professional life. I know one year is a short time to pick up all the nuances of professionalism but it certainly was a very introspective experience for me. As I stood their, teaching them about what little I have managed to learn, I got a mixed feeling of "Deja Vu" and "Nostalgia". Not long ago I was at the other end ,wearing that same unsure-ness on my face and giving myself into the system trusting it to mould me into the person that I wanted to become. You can call this an act of faith , but I saw it as a pragmatic approach. Now I saw the same faith in them , in me, and that scared me a little. One year is indeed a very short time to map ourselves in the industry and without that clear mapping we ourselves are afraid to put faith in our abilities and knowledge. So seeing someone looking up to you for guidance , will certainly make you a little apprehensive but you will get over that after hearing to them gleefully expressing their gratitude and faith in you. So I was really surprised when I received the same from them after completing the training. It was a huge relief to me because the fear of performing was more in me than them. That fear had its roots deep in my mind and was subjugated to further growth due to lack of self belief. Overcoming this fear was a big challenge and I am happy that I have done that.This is one experience that I shall never forget in my life.

In a generic way this is a scenario which people face everyday in their lives. The sheer pressure of performance and that mindset of meeting other people's expectations, is the pulling force behind a person's feeling of worthlessness. Man goes through various phases in life and in each of these phases he is working for someone and meeting the needs of others around him. So when realization finally hits him hard in the face , it's too late to get back all the time spent in trying to be the one that others want him to be. An act of rebuilding once self esteem should not be the last forlorn effort. We should imbibe that into our list of virtues so that going forward in our lives, we don't feel lost. Then the points in the graph and the graph itself will become crystal clear to us and mapping ourselves to these points and seeing as to where we stand will be just a case of "Mind over matter".