- Does a king really die or his legend / legacy live forever?
- Do changes in life bring about predictable consequences?
- Dont the ODIs look like tests after the spur of T20s?
- Do the best things in life come in small packages?
- How good does love in first sight still hold good?
- Does the Mayan calendar really end in 2012 or did the printer pass out?
- Why do people call rock music 'noise' without listening to it?
- If batteries run electronics, what do electronics run?
- Why do the good die young?
- How many hungry children cry for food when we cry about the food we eat?
- How can we be the change we want to see when change is the only constant?
- When early man was a non-vegetarian, why do we divide ourselves to be called vegetarians as well?
- When we consume grapes, why is it a taboo in having wine?
- If it wasn't for the internet, how many walls would have fallen?
- Why does eating chocolate equal sinning when it is symbolic for bliss?
- How many sequels does it take to complete a chain of movie theme?
- How would it be if there was no religion?
- Will I ever be a rockstar?
June 30, 2009
Random Questions IX
Its been a while and here is my 9th edition of Randomness...questions unanswered and unavoidable. Food for thought till the last dot and dash...
June 11, 2009
New Delhi...Old Memories
'Dilli ab door nahi...' whenever the city comes to my mind, images rush, voices echo and the heart beats gives that grin which was missing for a while amidst the current chaos of life. Such was the experience of my last years of my schooling life I had spent in Delhi...the best years of my life. The ripping summers and the biting winters wherever I am reminds me of this city...lot of memories and lot of stories. It was in 1997 that I had to move to Delhi when my dad got an assignment in Saudi and that place din't actually have a school...so the only option was to send me to my maternal grandparents place.
A little history for those who dont know, I was born in Delhi on the coldest day in 60 - 70 years in on January 3rd, 1983 and llived there for a year or two before I moved to Kuwait. When we were evacuated from Kuwait in 1990-91 during the first gulf war and returned to Delhi and spent another year and a half. At this tenure, my brother was born and literally he was our ticket from Kuwait in those tough times.
In 1996-97 came this another calling, to my birthplace and this time it was to complete my schooling. The fact was that I actually dreaded to go to Delhi after a swashbuckling stint in Chennai where I established my footing as a rebellious but innocent youth...all rounder in sports and acads, got me gang of friends, and loved Chennai. The fact that I was going away from my folks and my brother...was something I wasnt prepared for...but what I dint realize was that there was more to come than what met the eye or hit the ear.
Delhi was special because it was there I had made a lot of friends...and as they say - childhood friends are always special and unique. This was one part I was looking forward to and especially going into an apartment would mean a bigger gang and a lot more fun...and fun it was. But what bothered me the most was which school I was to join! My grandfather was an amazing person to say the least...the person who taught me to be tough and live rough in the madness of Delhi where I did have a turbulent start. Amidst all of this, I realized that schools in delhi had already begun...and I was...well, a little late. Kulachi Hansraj Model School it was...in Ashok Vihar, a big school of the DAV group and a very different environment than compared to schools in Chennai...and I was up for it.
The flat in which we were staying in Sector 9 of Rohini called Gayatri Apartments was a Duplex, where I had the upper floor to myself and this got me into the style of independent style of living and thinking despite my grandparents on the floor below. This also gave me a chance to modify my room to my liking and preference...so in a way, my bachelor days of staying in a home away from home began way back in 1997. In my room the last count I had, the number of posters reached 40 on the walls only. My music collections and my taste for FM radio grew up monumentally and my slant towards Rock and Metal began at this point in time...as one can see...all the best things in life at the same point in time.
But...the first two years of my schooling is what I would term as a Life-Changing experience...and not many of my friends would know or realize as there was an internal battle with myself to be the person I wanted to be in a place that did not welcome me. Firstly, being late to class, I was always behind them all and this took me ages to come to terms with and I just did not know whom to blame or even point my finger towards. It was a steep climb and I was prepared to do it the hard way...something that my grandfather always taught me that. The only way I could overcome such obstacles was to show by performance or actions. Firstly I had to get a literal translations of all abusive words and get a feel of how speak the local style of Hindi...what was taught in the books actually cannot be spoken on the streets.
Problems had begun the school bus where I was the black sheep amidst the white wool and this prompted a lot of them towards what is now popularly known as racial slurs. Total disrespect, animosity and hatred towards my-kind and it was so visible with a mob making my stay a living hell...even going to the loo to take a leak would be a walk of fright as someone could just come from behind and pass slew remarks or even voilently intimidate. The same story continued in my classroom besides a few noble and kind souls who went on to become my best friends in the future. The only way I figured out to survive in this insane environment was to do what I was good at...at least decent at...my speech. My writing actually helped me bring a lot of mileage in my resurrection from the abyss and this proved the most powerful comeback. My ability was that I could strike a conversation with anyone of any age and at any given time. The only thing that differentiated me and gave me the upper hand was that the guys or the girls couldnt speak fluent english for nuts...and I couldnt speak Hindi fluently temporarily which I then mastered to an extent where I could speak to anyone from any Hindi region. The guys would even question their peers and ask - 'how can this Madrasi even talk like this yaar' (snippets courtesy old friends who could tap the vibe and info). Trust me, this entire initial recovery took me two years...and with the help of my mentor who was my class teacher and with whom till date, I am in touch with. Such was the courage and confidence which she instilled in me which continues to be my source of inspiration whichever new place I go to.
What my classmates also appreciated was the way I played cricket (which was a get-going-no-non-sense-hard-hitting...what could one do in a 5 over match for a start!!!) and soon I was in their team and the level of acceptance was soon touching its high...it soon peaked with winning Quiz competitions and other critical events like getting into the school student's cabinet as the Secretary which gave me more visibility into the other sections of the school and events and culturals. I would take up work like checking late comers, checking shoes and all the things I hated when I was on the other side...but ended up doing it myself! Many such small things in small doses helped me establish as a familiar faced - once bullied, roughed up Madrasi to a full fledged Delhi-ite by birth and survival. By the time I realized all of this, the most meaningful 4 years of my life had gone by and time played its part when the best part was to come...it was 2001 by then.
But some of the main highlights of those 4 years besides the school episodes were also to do with at home and with friends. Our apartments had a whole host of amazing and uniue characters and this certainly broadened my perspective towards the way people were in general and also helped me build amazing rapport with people from all age groups. We would have cricket matches between sectors or apartments, within groups in our apartments in district gardens, in our community halls where the oldies would come chasing us with their walking sticks because our racket would so loud that their BP would shoot up! We also would play cricket on the badminton court, parking lot, on the terrace, whenever the current went off, night and day, under lights, in the rain and in the bloody summers and the chilling winters...anything and anywhere for cricket. Even the elders would join us in a game or two and this would be specailly evident during festivals or holidays where the compound would be full of people for the same game...rare sight but worth every moment.
All festivals and celebrations like weddings, birthdays and anniversaries would be jointly celebrated and the dressed up boys would form their gangs and tease and pull the decked up girls and this was something we all looked forward to. Eventually we all knew each other so well that the trips used to be so much fun and loud! To my knowledge, so many stories bloomed at that time and every line worth narrating...I wouldnt risk this space for that now! Anyways, be it Holi, Diwali, Independence Day or even a normal working day, there would be something to look forward to everyday. But amidst this, is where I met my best friends, soul mates and all the little crushes I had. All of it took place in this city and it is worth scripting a story around this...fact or fiction...fact for sure to me. The worst part in that aspect was that all the realization of true friendship and first love was found at a time when I was to leave Delhi in 2001...cruel twist of fate that life has been playing with me all throughout...snatching me away from the right place at the wrong time...just when things start looking better and happier...
Life shattering experiences have also had its toll on me...in the form of the tragic loss of my grandfather mid-way in my tenure at Delhi...an accident that got me to terms with my relationship with him which was very turbulent to be honest...both extremes of love and hate...but a lot of mutual respect and honour. After his passing away, my grandmother became my responsibility...and at that age, I was in-charge of her well being and her life from there on. This test in life was one of the most toughest and the closest I would have got to being broken, battered and bruised. The last two years of my stay in Delhi were the ones that shaped me to the man I am today. It was then I realized that it could take even the ending of a life to give birth to a new...in terms of character and purpose. Another phase of Delhi which I had to deal with...without my parents aside.
But at the end of it all...I discovered a lot of things in life. I might sound like a philosopher alread but what I have seen and learnt is something which this article cannot do justice at all. The people I have met, the things I have done, discovered, the fights I have been in and stopped, scars that i have rightfully given and recieved, words that have pained and loved, love that came and went, hate that brought in compassion, victories and losses that went hand in hand, smiles and tears of the family, separation and bonding which kept me sane. Not to forget the the fun and festivity of the city, travelling in buses, autos, the long walks and window shopping in local areas and the food fest at the streets and lanes, the pollution and the bustling morning with the pegions in mass...one word - Wah!!!
One might think that four years of all of this might be a far-fetched plot to believe in...all I can say to them is that to myself, I have lived it and words may not be sufficient to even prove anyone right or wrong. To me, it is my past and will always be a reference point in any time in my life in future. Such has been the impact of Delhi and its people in my life. Since 2001, I havent had a chance to return to the land where it all once happened...to me i would like to make visit soon...and I see this like a trip to Mecca where retribution and absolution is the ultimate goal.
One day when I go back, I would love to go back to my school and my apartments (where it all happened) and look back at all the moments that changed my perspectives and meet those who touched my life and whose lives I could touch in some small way or the other. I hope they still Love me as I still do and pray that all undesirable things have been laid to rest. To me, it would be the point where life had been resurrected and a any-time-mid-point where I could look back, smile and say..."Dilli ab door nahi..."
A little history for those who dont know, I was born in Delhi on the coldest day in 60 - 70 years in on January 3rd, 1983 and llived there for a year or two before I moved to Kuwait. When we were evacuated from Kuwait in 1990-91 during the first gulf war and returned to Delhi and spent another year and a half. At this tenure, my brother was born and literally he was our ticket from Kuwait in those tough times.
In 1996-97 came this another calling, to my birthplace and this time it was to complete my schooling. The fact was that I actually dreaded to go to Delhi after a swashbuckling stint in Chennai where I established my footing as a rebellious but innocent youth...all rounder in sports and acads, got me gang of friends, and loved Chennai. The fact that I was going away from my folks and my brother...was something I wasnt prepared for...but what I dint realize was that there was more to come than what met the eye or hit the ear.
Delhi was special because it was there I had made a lot of friends...and as they say - childhood friends are always special and unique. This was one part I was looking forward to and especially going into an apartment would mean a bigger gang and a lot more fun...and fun it was. But what bothered me the most was which school I was to join! My grandfather was an amazing person to say the least...the person who taught me to be tough and live rough in the madness of Delhi where I did have a turbulent start. Amidst all of this, I realized that schools in delhi had already begun...and I was...well, a little late. Kulachi Hansraj Model School it was...in Ashok Vihar, a big school of the DAV group and a very different environment than compared to schools in Chennai...and I was up for it.
The flat in which we were staying in Sector 9 of Rohini called Gayatri Apartments was a Duplex, where I had the upper floor to myself and this got me into the style of independent style of living and thinking despite my grandparents on the floor below. This also gave me a chance to modify my room to my liking and preference...so in a way, my bachelor days of staying in a home away from home began way back in 1997. In my room the last count I had, the number of posters reached 40 on the walls only. My music collections and my taste for FM radio grew up monumentally and my slant towards Rock and Metal began at this point in time...as one can see...all the best things in life at the same point in time.
But...the first two years of my schooling is what I would term as a Life-Changing experience...and not many of my friends would know or realize as there was an internal battle with myself to be the person I wanted to be in a place that did not welcome me. Firstly, being late to class, I was always behind them all and this took me ages to come to terms with and I just did not know whom to blame or even point my finger towards. It was a steep climb and I was prepared to do it the hard way...something that my grandfather always taught me that. The only way I could overcome such obstacles was to show by performance or actions. Firstly I had to get a literal translations of all abusive words and get a feel of how speak the local style of Hindi...what was taught in the books actually cannot be spoken on the streets.
Problems had begun the school bus where I was the black sheep amidst the white wool and this prompted a lot of them towards what is now popularly known as racial slurs. Total disrespect, animosity and hatred towards my-kind and it was so visible with a mob making my stay a living hell...even going to the loo to take a leak would be a walk of fright as someone could just come from behind and pass slew remarks or even voilently intimidate. The same story continued in my classroom besides a few noble and kind souls who went on to become my best friends in the future. The only way I figured out to survive in this insane environment was to do what I was good at...at least decent at...my speech. My writing actually helped me bring a lot of mileage in my resurrection from the abyss and this proved the most powerful comeback. My ability was that I could strike a conversation with anyone of any age and at any given time. The only thing that differentiated me and gave me the upper hand was that the guys or the girls couldnt speak fluent english for nuts...and I couldnt speak Hindi fluently temporarily which I then mastered to an extent where I could speak to anyone from any Hindi region. The guys would even question their peers and ask - 'how can this Madrasi even talk like this yaar' (snippets courtesy old friends who could tap the vibe and info). Trust me, this entire initial recovery took me two years...and with the help of my mentor who was my class teacher and with whom till date, I am in touch with. Such was the courage and confidence which she instilled in me which continues to be my source of inspiration whichever new place I go to.
What my classmates also appreciated was the way I played cricket (which was a get-going-no-non-sense-hard-hitting...what could one do in a 5 over match for a start!!!) and soon I was in their team and the level of acceptance was soon touching its high...it soon peaked with winning Quiz competitions and other critical events like getting into the school student's cabinet as the Secretary which gave me more visibility into the other sections of the school and events and culturals. I would take up work like checking late comers, checking shoes and all the things I hated when I was on the other side...but ended up doing it myself! Many such small things in small doses helped me establish as a familiar faced - once bullied, roughed up Madrasi to a full fledged Delhi-ite by birth and survival. By the time I realized all of this, the most meaningful 4 years of my life had gone by and time played its part when the best part was to come...it was 2001 by then.
But some of the main highlights of those 4 years besides the school episodes were also to do with at home and with friends. Our apartments had a whole host of amazing and uniue characters and this certainly broadened my perspective towards the way people were in general and also helped me build amazing rapport with people from all age groups. We would have cricket matches between sectors or apartments, within groups in our apartments in district gardens, in our community halls where the oldies would come chasing us with their walking sticks because our racket would so loud that their BP would shoot up! We also would play cricket on the badminton court, parking lot, on the terrace, whenever the current went off, night and day, under lights, in the rain and in the bloody summers and the chilling winters...anything and anywhere for cricket. Even the elders would join us in a game or two and this would be specailly evident during festivals or holidays where the compound would be full of people for the same game...rare sight but worth every moment.
All festivals and celebrations like weddings, birthdays and anniversaries would be jointly celebrated and the dressed up boys would form their gangs and tease and pull the decked up girls and this was something we all looked forward to. Eventually we all knew each other so well that the trips used to be so much fun and loud! To my knowledge, so many stories bloomed at that time and every line worth narrating...I wouldnt risk this space for that now! Anyways, be it Holi, Diwali, Independence Day or even a normal working day, there would be something to look forward to everyday. But amidst this, is where I met my best friends, soul mates and all the little crushes I had. All of it took place in this city and it is worth scripting a story around this...fact or fiction...fact for sure to me. The worst part in that aspect was that all the realization of true friendship and first love was found at a time when I was to leave Delhi in 2001...cruel twist of fate that life has been playing with me all throughout...snatching me away from the right place at the wrong time...just when things start looking better and happier...
Life shattering experiences have also had its toll on me...in the form of the tragic loss of my grandfather mid-way in my tenure at Delhi...an accident that got me to terms with my relationship with him which was very turbulent to be honest...both extremes of love and hate...but a lot of mutual respect and honour. After his passing away, my grandmother became my responsibility...and at that age, I was in-charge of her well being and her life from there on. This test in life was one of the most toughest and the closest I would have got to being broken, battered and bruised. The last two years of my stay in Delhi were the ones that shaped me to the man I am today. It was then I realized that it could take even the ending of a life to give birth to a new...in terms of character and purpose. Another phase of Delhi which I had to deal with...without my parents aside.
But at the end of it all...I discovered a lot of things in life. I might sound like a philosopher alread but what I have seen and learnt is something which this article cannot do justice at all. The people I have met, the things I have done, discovered, the fights I have been in and stopped, scars that i have rightfully given and recieved, words that have pained and loved, love that came and went, hate that brought in compassion, victories and losses that went hand in hand, smiles and tears of the family, separation and bonding which kept me sane. Not to forget the the fun and festivity of the city, travelling in buses, autos, the long walks and window shopping in local areas and the food fest at the streets and lanes, the pollution and the bustling morning with the pegions in mass...one word - Wah!!!
One might think that four years of all of this might be a far-fetched plot to believe in...all I can say to them is that to myself, I have lived it and words may not be sufficient to even prove anyone right or wrong. To me, it is my past and will always be a reference point in any time in my life in future. Such has been the impact of Delhi and its people in my life. Since 2001, I havent had a chance to return to the land where it all once happened...to me i would like to make visit soon...and I see this like a trip to Mecca where retribution and absolution is the ultimate goal.
One day when I go back, I would love to go back to my school and my apartments (where it all happened) and look back at all the moments that changed my perspectives and meet those who touched my life and whose lives I could touch in some small way or the other. I hope they still Love me as I still do and pray that all undesirable things have been laid to rest. To me, it would be the point where life had been resurrected and a any-time-mid-point where I could look back, smile and say..."Dilli ab door nahi..."
June 2, 2009
The Documents of Darkness...
As I move into my second organization, there is a mandatory process which haunts me all the time for it demands me to dig into my past...a dark past. Though this is not the first time, it still brings back a lot of forgettable memories to what I am on paper compared to what I come across as a person to people. Well, some places tend accept you for what you are on paper than by willing to understanding...then for what purpose are institutions for one might ask...
Well to be honest, I wasn't great in school and college and situationally I found it difficult to cope with pressures. I was a slow learner and at snail pace, understood what was taught to me in the year what was taught to me in the previous one. For example - I was king in solving quadratic equations...but only when I was in class 9 whereas it was taught in class 7 or 8. I used to love Geometry but I only got a hold of it when I was in class 10 where it was taught in class 6! Such was my pace...the only subject that I had a hold of was Language...English, Hindi and Sanskrit. I was pretty cool in subjects like Geography and History...mostly dead subjects of what was and has beens. I thought I was bad but there were worse cases also in my class which I wish not to divulge. Strange though...my parents werent really aware of my conditions because, somehow I used to score decently and get away with it. In class, I would always be day dreaming, doodling, playing book cricket, actual cricket, crack useless adolescent jokes and be in a world of my own...everything except studying. I was even afraid to ask doubts because, the ones that I had a doubt about, would be in the previous lesson and the class is in the next lesson already! All the neglect and ignorance and lost in my own world syndrome eventually started my creative writing journey early in school which later formed my path to some sort of glory to what I am today.
But what was best about all of this was that most of the kids in school and in college dint view me like that...they understood me more than my shoddy academics and respected me for what I was but unfortunately, I wasnt able to match the same with them in terms of my performances, which was very disheartening to me. I was pretty good at having a conversation with boys, girls, juniors, seniors, teachers, professors etc. I wasnt that bad in joking and fooling around with people too...I loved the company of people and I hope it was vice versa too! I wasnt that bad in sports and games too...decent in Athletics and Cricket and I also used to be a key member of the students cabinet too!!! I was an avid quizzer and a budding poet right from my schooling days and it still continues to be my passions in life. As one can see...nothing academical so far...
As most might 'consider' by now...sorry, 'conclude' by now, is that everything besides studies excited me the most. But what one must understand that I tried my best with my academics and passed out only as an average student but a better and stronger person. All said and done, in our societies, until one is a topper or a rank holder, they would eventually be disregarded to an extent where even finding a groom or a bride becomes next to impossible. I still wonder what the spouses would do with their marksheets once they get married!!! On a lighter note, the recent IIT pass out family killings throws a darker tone compared to what simpler people can imagine to do. What I intend to state is that not all academically profecient people are no guarantors to being perfect people. We all have inconsistencies...it just depends on what aspects are we in...professionally or personally. Its a choice we all have to correct...depends on which one.
Lets bring this discussion to a more lighter vein. I mean no disrespect to all the great minds around...and I mean it. Its just an observation and a self-assuring stand that Im certainly not the only one thinking on these lines. Our Indian Society has been built on a premises that people with low academic achievements are doomed to no end and this according to me is a grave assumption. I saw my inefficiency as a blessing and as a sign of a hidden talent in me to which I had to discover just like discovering an alter ego...and this was the origin of my pseudonym - 'darkknight' This was an interesting journey and I will not delve in detail in this piece. One of my write ups titled "A decade of writing" can shed more light if one needs to know more. What I am trying to convey is that if one door is closed in one's life...there is always another door in the dark that needs to be searched for and which needs to be open to let the light in and let others know that there is always a way out and there is always light at the end of darkness. (Phew...that was a long construct!)
Well to be honest, I wasn't great in school and college and situationally I found it difficult to cope with pressures. I was a slow learner and at snail pace, understood what was taught to me in the year what was taught to me in the previous one. For example - I was king in solving quadratic equations...but only when I was in class 9 whereas it was taught in class 7 or 8. I used to love Geometry but I only got a hold of it when I was in class 10 where it was taught in class 6! Such was my pace...the only subject that I had a hold of was Language...English, Hindi and Sanskrit. I was pretty cool in subjects like Geography and History...mostly dead subjects of what was and has beens. I thought I was bad but there were worse cases also in my class which I wish not to divulge. Strange though...my parents werent really aware of my conditions because, somehow I used to score decently and get away with it. In class, I would always be day dreaming, doodling, playing book cricket, actual cricket, crack useless adolescent jokes and be in a world of my own...everything except studying. I was even afraid to ask doubts because, the ones that I had a doubt about, would be in the previous lesson and the class is in the next lesson already! All the neglect and ignorance and lost in my own world syndrome eventually started my creative writing journey early in school which later formed my path to some sort of glory to what I am today.
But what was best about all of this was that most of the kids in school and in college dint view me like that...they understood me more than my shoddy academics and respected me for what I was but unfortunately, I wasnt able to match the same with them in terms of my performances, which was very disheartening to me. I was pretty good at having a conversation with boys, girls, juniors, seniors, teachers, professors etc. I wasnt that bad in joking and fooling around with people too...I loved the company of people and I hope it was vice versa too! I wasnt that bad in sports and games too...decent in Athletics and Cricket and I also used to be a key member of the students cabinet too!!! I was an avid quizzer and a budding poet right from my schooling days and it still continues to be my passions in life. As one can see...nothing academical so far...
As most might 'consider' by now...sorry, 'conclude' by now, is that everything besides studies excited me the most. But what one must understand that I tried my best with my academics and passed out only as an average student but a better and stronger person. All said and done, in our societies, until one is a topper or a rank holder, they would eventually be disregarded to an extent where even finding a groom or a bride becomes next to impossible. I still wonder what the spouses would do with their marksheets once they get married!!! On a lighter note, the recent IIT pass out family killings throws a darker tone compared to what simpler people can imagine to do. What I intend to state is that not all academically profecient people are no guarantors to being perfect people. We all have inconsistencies...it just depends on what aspects are we in...professionally or personally. Its a choice we all have to correct...depends on which one.
Lets bring this discussion to a more lighter vein. I mean no disrespect to all the great minds around...and I mean it. Its just an observation and a self-assuring stand that Im certainly not the only one thinking on these lines. Our Indian Society has been built on a premises that people with low academic achievements are doomed to no end and this according to me is a grave assumption. I saw my inefficiency as a blessing and as a sign of a hidden talent in me to which I had to discover just like discovering an alter ego...and this was the origin of my pseudonym - 'darkknight' This was an interesting journey and I will not delve in detail in this piece. One of my write ups titled "A decade of writing" can shed more light if one needs to know more. What I am trying to convey is that if one door is closed in one's life...there is always another door in the dark that needs to be searched for and which needs to be open to let the light in and let others know that there is always a way out and there is always light at the end of darkness. (Phew...that was a long construct!)
On conclusion, we always tend to think in a way which puts us in an awkward situation which where we consider 'what woud others think of us' and 'what would they think if we did this', 'if we did this, did that' et al. But what I have learnt now and more assuringly after the recent documentation submission in my new organization is that one must be aware of not only ones surroundings but also with ones own beliefs and perspectives. Once that stage is attained, marksheets of the past which one might have considered the documents of darkness...will fade away into light and bring out the best in us. Believe me, it isnt a pleasant past, but surely a bright future...
People respect you for what you are and what you have achieved. This can be on paper and can be on performance. What is performed sometimes is captured on paper...sometimes it is captured on character. The latter takes a longer time to discover but eventually lasts forever...
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