Tuesday, 31 January 2012


I had posted my CV on a job portal during my unemployed days. I got a reply from that site yesterday, that I was shortlisted! For a pen drive!

I thought..

...I should say hi. Long time.

Monday, 9 November 2009

Back to pavilion

Work after two getaways in one week.
Five 2 rupee coins in pocket.
The knowing rickshawallah nods as you get in.
Train at 7:34 am sharp.
The cute lady at the bus stop.
Conductor with no change.
Clumsy security check at building entry.

Mundane life is fun sometimes!

Wednesday, 4 November 2009


You had slogged hard all your life, giving up smallest of the pleasures with a desire for a better tomorrow, when you can have all the fun.

Your penance pays off, and the tomorrow becomes today.

So, now you want to lose yourself and have some fun.
But wait! You have now become a role model. Good enough to be emulated by your brothers and cousins.

All they can see is how much fun you are having and not what went in the process, much much before, when they were too young to understand all that.
They are lost in the sugar coated dreams that you live in front of them and think, it will be theirs, all too easy! Suddenly, it all falls apart for them and they are brought back to the bitter, dark reality called life.

And you feel guilty.

Is it wrong that you feel you should protect your siblings from the harsh struggle that you had to undergo? Or should you just allow them to fall and pick up the pieces and figure it out for themselves?

Friday, 25 September 2009

Change is constant


Time: 12:30 pm
Venue: Classroom

Hey, 1:30 ka show hai. Yeh lecture ke baad nikalte hain. Aa raha hai kya?
Devde ko bhi poochte hain.
Usko poocha, woh bhi aa raha hai. Apan paanch log jaa rahe hain.
Theek hai. Lekin main 50 rupya hi kharch kar paaoonga. Stall mein dekhte hain.


Guys, let's meet next weekend.
Yeah, let's go to XYZ place.
Nahin yaar, last time gaya tha achcha nahi tha.
I am doubtful.
Mera working Saturday hai.
Mujhe 5 baje tak ghar pahunchna hoga.

Then, we had nothing else to worry about. Except money.
Now, we need to worry about our bosses, families, jobs, travel, siblings, girlfriends. Except money.

Saturday, 19 September 2009

Paintings at night

Somehow, the memories rekindled in your mind, when you stare at the blank white canvas of your ceiling, as you try to fight to put yourself to sleep, always turn out to be bad.



"I was batting on 291 at Chepauk, against South Africa. I told Paul Harris, "Come round the wicket and first ball I'll hit you for a six." He accepted my challenge and the very first ball I hit him for a straight six, and there was a long-off, long-on, deep midwicket and a deep point. I was so tired and he was bowling on the pads and I was getting bored. So rather than spending 10-15 minutes to get to the triple-century I gave him good advice."

- Virendra 'Uncluttered' Sehwag

Sunday, 17 May 2009


Dear A,

Come tomorrow, it will be a year since I got booted out. So, I thought I should thank someone who has played a big part in my ressurection in this period. I know you would say that you did nothing.

But, let me just tell you, though it might not be such a big deal for you, it meant a lot to me. A hell lot more than you can ever imagine!

A drowning man will clutch on to whatever little twig that can possibly keep him alive. I was almost sucked into the cesspool of desperation, and I would like to thank the rope which helped me climb out of the quicksand, even though the rope itself thinks that it is a small twig.

I have heard that greatness is in not making a big deal of one's positive contribution to other's lives.

And you are great!


Friday, 1 May 2009

Just another rant

All it took us to forget this was a four day weekend. We got out of our homes, and shouted slogans against the ineptness of the leaders in handling our security. Everyone from Barkha 'senti' Dutt to Rajdeep 'hyper' Sardesai claimed this as the emergence of the youth power. People like me, who were doing their work in office without indulging in the brouhaha, were jibed at for being insensitive! Come elections, we have now seen how 'youngsters' are active in participation. No amount of Tata tea will keep us awake, hum kabhi nahi jaagenge!

'We have lost faith in the system' is the common refrain. If you have lost faith in the system and don't want to get your fucking ass to the polling booth, then its your job to change the system for the better! Stop rocking in that armchair, wearing those Che Guevara t-shirts and get the hell out of your houses and vote, else just shut up and drink Tata tea! :P

I know this post is not very coherent and structured and all, but I don't give a damn. I am just bloody pissed off with a turnout of less than 40% in my city.

Jai ho!

Sunday, 5 April 2009

Weekend Whine

After sending off my family friend at the Pune Airport after his interview, I planned to surprise my friend who works in Pune. So, I sent some so called cryptic messages, in the form of prediction for the day and other crappy stuff. But they were easily decoded, with my overeagerness giving it away, a bit too easily.

So, I called to confirm the so called surprise visit. But, quoting Palahniuk, the weather was partially cloudy and was getting hazier. So, we decided to check mutual availability at around 5:30, so that we could catch the Indrayani.

However, call it fate or will, the expected non-availability was confirmed. The energy levels went for a toss and the eager quick walk was transformed to a slow heavy trudge.

It seems, this depressive virus shifted from me to my rickshaw driver as well. As a result, he took exactly thirteen years and four months to reach Pune Station. Drawing full energy from my frail frame, I dashed off to the tickets counter and found myself in Tirupati-sized queues. After being fined 250 bucks for loitering in the station without a ticket just the previous day, I did not want to take another shot at my nervous-face-in-front-of-ticket-checker. So had to bite my teeth and stand in the queue for a gruelling seventeen minutes and buy the tickets.

Indrayani was on platform 2. So, I ran, and ran, and ran. But, she slowly, but surely, was getting away from me.

As I was getting down from the last steps, I could see the huge 'X' mark on the last bogie. A million hands bade me good bye.

Since, there were no trains for about a couple of hours, there was no choice but to go by bus.

In between, my mind was split between whether to call my friend and inform about the train miss and suggest going in bus together or otherwise. Going by the apparent discomfort in the previous conversation, I chose the latter, not knowing what my twisted fate had in store for me.

After waiting for about half an hour, I caught a volvo bus towards Dadar, deciding to get down at Panvel. The fast moving images at the window, brought back some old memories of my previous visit to Pune. As I was getting lost in my own world, I was brought back to the real world by my neighbor, who puked on me. The idiot forgot to use the packet provided for the same and conveniently decided to use my t-shirt as a toilet sink. I was almost getting a vomit bath. Eww!

Now stop making faces, and understand the situation, you idiots!

The only good thing was that the bus had almost reached Kalamboli where I was to get down and catch a town bus to my place. There was just a small problem. I was already Mr. Stinksalot, and the stop was in the middle of the highway and it was getting very late, thus reducing the already low probability of finding the town.

After a 15 minute wait, at the godforsaken bus stop, I caught a town bus to my place. As soon as I entered the bus, everyone gave me nasty look, with their cringed noses. I am sure they thought I was drunk and had puked on myself! Haha!

My stink had a benefit. No one was ready to sit beside me and I got to use an entire two-seat and sit comfortably. But then, a comfortable life puts forward uncomfortable existential questions. I replayed the entire day in my mind and could not stop smiling. Probably, now the co-passengers were quite sure about me being drunk!

Somebody was singing somewhere,

I hope you had the time of your life.

Monday, 9 February 2009

Tuesday, 23 December 2008

Ctrl C + Ctrl V

Saw this as a status message of an acquaintance in G-talk:

Never make someone a priority in your life, when you are just an option in their life.


Tuesday, 16 December 2008

Wednesday, 10 December 2008

Rubbing it in

I was a bit angry with a couple of people over the weekend. So, yesterday I took it out on the hapless cricket ball, by hurling it as fast as I could, and whacking it as hard as I could. In the process, I forgot that I am neither Brett Lee nor Kevin Pietersen.
Result: I had to miss office today since I pulled a back muscle.

This is what I hate about cricket. You don't feel anything while playing, with the adrenalin flowing all around. But the next day morning, you feel terrible, like a bad hangover after a great party.

So, I called sick and stayed at home. The doctor was surprised with 'cricket' as a reason for my bad back. She gave me an injection on my lower back. Trust me, it is the worst place to get an injection. It feels like the needle is piercing your brain!

After the injection, she gave me her prescription and asked me to come back if the pain persists. Just as when I was about to leave, she said, with a snigger,

'And yeah, NO sex for a week!'

Yeah, right!

Monday, 1 December 2008


Of late, after the terrorist attacks, there has been lot of talk about how the (in)famous 'Mumbai Spirit' has been lost this time and all that jazz. Frankly, it doesn't make any sense. I went to office just like normal.

Yes, I was intrigued by the bullet holes in the glass pane of the announcer's cabin in VT, the bullet marks on the pavement, the broken windowpanes of the Oberoi, the presence of gun wielding, bullet proof (?) jackets wearing policemen in the station, resignation of bar-girl chasing and safari suit wearing home ministers. But it didn't bother me that much, since I had a job to do. I think the same goes with every other Mumbaikar. This is because we simply cannot afford to stop working and stay put at homes, since we are afraid, now that we might be killed in a terrorist attack. Compulsion is called 'spirit' here!

I don't think this terrorist attack is a problem to the 'spirit'. People might be a little scared and scarred, but they know they cannot escape the randomness of terrorist attacks. If you are unlucky that the terrorist chooses your location as a target, then its time to say goodbye to this world!

What probably can, and does hurt the spirit, is the divisive rampages that occur every now and then. In that case, there is no randomness.

You know you will be attacked.

Friday, 28 November 2008


Monday, 24th November, 9:33 pm
Venue: VT Station

I catch the 9:33 Dombivli Semi-Fast and settle down with a packet of samosas in a window seat and start watching 'Two and Half men' on my ipod.

Tuesday, 25th November, 9:33 pm
Venue: VT Station
I catch the 9:33 Dombivli Semi-Fast. This time I don't get a window seat. I settle down and start reading about a Trading System.

Wednesday, 26th November, 9:33 pm
Venue: VT Station
I wasn't there. I left early, just a tad.

I don't know whether to rejoice about my lucky survival or feel sorry for the people, who were feasted upon, by blood hungry, heartless, non-living things.

Sunday, 12 October 2008

Sevittu machine

Navratri got over last week. We generally have golu at our place during Navratri. I really looked forward to the golu since it meant, I would get sundal and in addition, cute girls come home wearing silk dresses and sing carnatic songs.

It's been three years since I had been at home for golu. But, as some distant relative had passed away, we couldn't have it this year. Still, some pattis had come home for some pooja.

I was home at that time, sitting quietly in a corner and listening to my ipod. A patti came close to me and was curious about the ipod.

'Yenna da ithu, kaathu kekathava machine maathri?'


'Illa paatti, ithu per Ipod. Ithula paattu kekalaam'

'Oh, transistor-aa?'


'Aama athu maathri thaan'

'Seri kaami, naanum kekren.'


I swear to god, I am not making this up. But this is what happened next.

I was listening to Pehli nazar mein. It was almost over and I gave it to her when the song was about to change.

Note: She doesn't know too much hindi.

She put the earphones and was looking at the small screen.

'Saawariya Saawariyaa.....'

'Yennada ithu, yenna saawariya nu kekkarthu!'


I immediately forwarded it to the next song. This is where I hate my playlist.

Next song blared on her earphones.

'Saawariya saawariya..' This was from Swades.

'Che, yennada ithu, yenna thitindey irukku. Poda neeyum un sevittu machinum'

Saturday, 27 September 2008

Oranje Originale

Today we had a soccer fest in my company. After my name was forcibly put by my well intentioned colleagues, I had no option but play. I was put in Orange Originals team and was given a cute orange coloured kit too.
Aha! Chance to be a Nistelrooy, a Persie, a Sneijder or if lucky, a frigging Van Basten!

As usual is with amateur football, everyone, I mean everyone, wanted to play forward. We had a mail list of my team mates where we were discussing about at which positions people would play.
There were 9 in the team, of which 6 wanted to be forwards and claimed to be good strikers and bad tacklers. Rest three, including me, didn't even bother sending a read receipt to those mails. What enthusiasm!

So the day arrived. I should say, the event was brilliantly planned. 100 people playing football, running 10 miles each, on a nice, soothing 40 degree celsius, 95% humid day. There was a shamiana, where tasty breakfast was provided. Cheese sandwiches, masala dosa and the works.
Were we going to play football?

After some passing and shooting practice, we decided our spots. Since I could run fast and had a non existent left leg, I was made a right winger.
Yay!!! Beckham!!

The goal kick from rival keeper reached me. I somehow kept it in control with my, now bulging, paunch and started running with the ball.

Huff. Puff.

I looked around to see if I could pass to anyone. My captain was shouting at me to pass the ball to him. The only problem was, he was standing even behind the goalkeeper of the other team, since there was no offside, and there were exactly 5 players of the opposition between us

So, I did something which was vaguely close to dribbling and neared one of their midfielders.
I tried to pass the ball to my team mate, but my footballing talent betrayed me, as I flung my leg above the ball and the ball stayed there itself. But this fooled the other guy and he went off balance. So I could go straight on. Wow! A fake pass!

I started running again.

Huff. Puff.

This time, a small defender, roughly the size of Inzamam ul Haq and with a very close resemblance to Evander Holyfield, marched towards me, like an animal that is no longer existent in financial markets.

To say that I was afraid would be an understatement. I didn't know what to do.

Out of instinct, or pure luck, or whatever, I pushed the ball between his legs and before he could turn, I ran around him, and took the ball and somehow with a huge amount of divine intervention planted it into the net.


I just went fucking crazy. Didn't know what to do. Put the jersey over my head and ran around the ground, showing my paunch and my poonal in the process to the crowd around. Drama King!

God, I still can't believe this. I really can't.

But the sad part is, this historic event was neither photographed nor captured in a video.

Just like Kapil Dev's 175, yet another episode of sporting excellence went away uncaptured, but will always be in public memory, atleast my memory. :-)

Sunday, 21 September 2008

Trigger my passion

This weekend I watched Rock on for the fourth time. Yes, I downloaded the music one month before the movie instead of buying the CD as advised at the end of the movie. However, I now think that I have more than compensated for that by watching it four times in expensive multiplexes and gorging on unbelievably overpriced coffees, pop corn and soft drinks.

Every time I watch the movie, it sends me into a downward spiral. As you know this movie is about an investment banker who is really passionate about music and stuff. I know that's not the core story, but that's what is relevant to me. :-)

I keep thinking, 'What is my passion?'

In terms of extra curricular abilities, my mom used to quote Dilbert -
'Don't worry that you do not have any talent. 95% of the people in this world do not have any talent.'

I don't know whether it was actually said by Dilbert, but I sincerely hope it's true. I like the comfort in being in an overwhelming majority. But again, its the minuscule minority that gains maximum attention, like girls in a mechanical engineering course.

The problem that kills me is that I do not seem to have any passion. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Then, I tried to define passion as something you really love to do, to see if that way I can decode something.

After some hard thinking, I realized, I was very passionate about sleeping. I loved to sleep for 10 hours. But that is something like an unaffordable luxury nowadays. Still, a passion for sleeping doesn't lead you anywhere.

Hmm..what else?

I am passionate about potato chips, watching cricket at home sitting in my sofa and eating vadams, listening to music, watching cheap tamil movies and the likes.

Did you observe something? Nothing is productive.

I mean, I do not play cricket, I watch cricket.
I do not play an musical instrument, I just play my Ipod.
I do not cook. I just eat.

What a waste of life!

Friday, 12 September 2008

Rock on rant

Dear Abhishek Kapoor,

Congratulations for making a very good movie with some amazing music. I understand that you took great pains in developing the characters. However, as a part of the now maligned investment banking community, I would like to raise our disapproval of the far too real portrayal of an investment banker in the movie.
I mean, come on, yes, we live absofuckinglutely sad lives. But that doesn't give you any right to show our not-so-happening life to the truest colour and dilute away our already diminishing value proposition to the womankind! We had been living in denial and were perfectly comfortable living that way. But you changed all that.

My friends are now asking me, when I will get married, so that they can shift next to my house and give my wife company while I spend time with my first wife, my job!
You tell me, how should I handle queries about my friends' taunts about me finding paying guest accomodation inside my office!

We were so happy, with people looking at us with newspaper reports flaunting our over hyped, wrongly calculated and ridiculously misquoted, high salaries. Now, they look at the same newspapers and call us to find out the latest score, the number of people fired in our firms. And your film has added fuel to the fire. Anyways, I hope you understand our feelings and make sure you do not show any investment banker in poor light again. For all you know, you might need help from one of us while listing your production company or managing your wealth. :P

Yours faithfully,

PS: Forgot to mention, thanks for letting the investment banker have the cutest wife in the movie. If only that was true in real life......sigh!