How the game was won...

I’ve been playing serious cricket since my childhood and I’ve always been in a position where I have led a team because of some weird reason quoted once...that I was one of the tallest guys in the team! Warp speed to today...I’ve led taller people in my team, so it’s not about the height at all.

But in the last 6 years of my life, I have played a lot of city league tournaments and corporate teams and the joy has just been immense...because in all these years, I have created teams from scratch and gone on to have great wins and some sore losses. One learns that winning and losing is a part of the journey that teaches you a lot more.

It taught me to know more about people, their temperaments and hidden instincts that are generally curbed in their corporate outfits. It’s a joy to see each person unleash such character and diverse reactions that each person you thought you know, were a lot deeper that what met the eye.

I’m very passionate & loyal to the game and this is quite evident by my behaviour on the ground. I may not look like the fittest guy around, but out of nowhere, I can tend to surprise people with a few dives and outplay them in stamina. Of course the hard work and the experience is what got me there...but when I’m on the field, I mean business (obviously with the intent of having fun).

But what I have learnt the most is that it is the people management in ones team that makes it a successful one or otherwise. I have seen ordinary people pull off extraordinary performances in tough situations. I have also see that those who tend to promise a lot through speech, often don’t do much...though I have been fooled in that aspect as well.

It takes time to trust a team and time for the team to believe in a captain. It’s a mutual process which needs a careful investment of time and effort with a consistent set of members...it’s true that it works both ways...top-down and Bottom-Up. Commitment and Communication is critical and a general assessment of everyone’s skill plus character is critical for a captain.

I’ve always started with a 20 probable squad and slowly worked up with a final 15 man squad. We have the usual physical fitness session and followed by a nets practice session over a period of say 2 to 3 months (if there is adequate time before a tournament begins). The fun part is in knowing your team better in trivial & fun conversations during these sessions and this can be done without the captain / coach’s physical presence. All it requires is a trigger...once they see themselves unite under a banner of a team, they will relate to it and feel like working towards a single purpose...not winning, but to be affiliated to the team itself.

Being a part of a team is a social status to many youth who come from different strata of the society and from different situations and circumstances. The feeling of being counted and considered is such an important factor in getting a person to play for a team with purpose. For some it could be lost dreams come true to just get out of the habit from watching cricket to playing it on the field. For some, it is the habit of breaking away from childhood memories of not being a winner or a struggling student or simply a failure. For some, it could be a lost dream where they once in their past would have played and sheer nostalgia or a second chance in life could drive them.

I have come across people who seem quite serious at work but on field, they show their funny side through speech and action. Some of the silent ones are the ones who make the most noise on field. Unassuming ones are the ones with hidden talent and to see them perform was in itself a sheer learning for me. Lesson is to never underestimate a person and to give the right opportunity at the right time before they are judged.

Over the years, I have built some great relationships & have found some great friends and colleagues through this sport for which I am truly grateful. I have emerged as a changed person and with a different outlook over the years I have played with so many teams. I have also befriended organizers, opponents and rivals who still continue to stay in touch and invite me for matches and their nets sessions. This is amazing camaraderie which as humans we must strive for.

I’ve shed blood, sweat and tears, been intimidated, ridiculed and even appreciated and motivated by friends and foes on this hallowed field and I don’t regret any moment of it. I have been humbled, humiliated...respected and made to respect, despite age, color, time, background etc...this is what the game is capable to teach a person if willing to learn by oneself.

I would like to thank all the seniors with whom I’ve had the privilege of playing with and learning so many aspects of the game and improving on the same. This is a team sport and people supporting behind the scenes are also important and their effort in my cricketing will not go in vain. I would also like to acknowledge all my team mates in all the years of my playing who have trusted me in all times while leading them...good, bad and ugly.

I would also like to mention that I’ve also been witness to some of the best bowling, batting and fielding performances from my team mates who may seem ordinary in their office uniforms. But hand them over a pair of whites, cap and shoes...and see them fight like tigers.

My dad keeps asking me... “Isn’t the kit bag too heavy to carry on your shoulders by yourself?”. I replied... “its worth it dad”. That’s the day I learnt one thing...the day you realize that the pain is worth it, that’s when you know how the game is won...

And this is the end of the beginning!

Note  – The EID Parry Corporate Team led by me had recently beat the Region 2 Team in the intra Parry Cricket Championships in Jan 2013 at Chennai where we won by 11 runs in a thriller. If it wasn’t for my team’s courageous performance amidst all odds, the man of the match I had got would have been worthless. Complete credit to the way the boys played...the award must go to them all. Though we did not qualify for the finals due to the net run rate, we were happy with the fight we put up...we were all winners that day and for the times to come.

The winning moment...

My Bloody Valentine!

In the spirit of February being the month of the romantics, I had to pen this true story down. Though we all have our past stories and tales...those that worked and those that didn't, it was probably the most silliest thing that I had ever done. But at the end of it all, it made me feel strong...it made me feel humble, but most importantly, it made me feel that I was in love...such was the plan...such was the story.

At this juncture, I don't remember the day or month but I do remember the year...it was the summer of 2001-02 and I was in my 1st year of B.Com and we had just returned from our District Meet. We made a lot of friends and one mighty impression that wasn't easy to build at that given time. It was in that same Meet in Vizag that I met a very special person for whom...in a very long time I had my heart beating a little faster and deeper. At each others sight, we knew there was something going on, but as lore would rightly play it...she refused to acknowledge it and a scene without dialogues began...nothing was spoken...but a lot was conveyed.

While returning from that trip...I spoke to no one thinking she might never talk to me ever (it didn't happen before that at all). But before we got to our last station...a voice caught my attention and I almost fell to my knees when I turned around to see who it was...it was her. The only thing she asked was for my number and if it was alright to stay in touch (all of us were exchanging numbers because the whole gang was splitting after a 4 day festival). What could have I asked for at that given moment! And we exchanged numbers and stayed in touch...once in a while...Time flowed and due to her restrictions at home, we could only meet in such forums and we did have those eyes and smiles go around and I was in a completely different world of my own.

This time, her college were invited to our institution for an initiative that we were hosting and they agreed. I was completely unaware of this because our seniors were the organizers...so we were just coordinating and helping around. It was a 'Blood Donation Camp' and one of the most faithful and sincere events. I was walking around thinking that I could never donate blood...and I had never done it in my entire life...I was walking around faking that I was sick or that I had recovered from an illness and what not! I also managed to say that I was an alcoholic or an addict. But on that very day, all of it changed...

Guess who came to camp? It was her and she waltzed in like she was dancing on her heels...Oh...that scene! What an entry and my faking turned to freaking! In my heart...the blood pumped faster than I could have imagined...what a moment! She walks in and greets the gang and still hasnt spoken a word or a 'hi' to me yet...I wait for her to near and then it all begins..."So are you donating as well" she popped up the question I was supposed to ask...and within half a second...I replied..."Of Course" and she gave that smile which ringed out loud 'Wow Im impressed and so brave of you!'. Now I was thinking...where did that come from and many of my friends were a little shocked and turned to me (indicating...we will catch up after the event is done and dealt with).

So I walk into the donation room and have a word with the nurse to just check how painful and what not does it feel like when the process happens (all this when she is just about to walk into the room) and the nurse ensures me that its all going to be just fine...somewhere I felt, it wasn't going to be so...

After certain basic questions and tests, I lie on the bed ready to show my veins and before I can notice or prepare the brave look, a drenched cotton bud is on my hands and then the needle shoots through (and it was now that I felt like a first time addict) as the pain kinda got me off guard...she wasn't near the window thankfully...after 5 seconds or so...I saw my life flow out of that tube...it was my blood and it was being taken away! What was I doing???

As minutes passed, I felt a little drowsy and it was then that she waltzed across the window...to see me and my bloody act of courage. It was in that moment, that I had to shoo away my drudgery and show a brave face and a smile to just say...'I'm alright' (which I wasn't)! She looked me in the eye and I felt that I could just keep looking...it was at this moment, the nurse interrupted saying that I had donated enough for the first time! Somehow this fell on her ears and she got hold of it...what now!

I stepped out of the bed and I almost fainted...no one but the nurse saw this (now that you've read this confession) and she was a very kind soul who brought me back on my feet and handed me a box of refreshments and gave a big thanks. In my act of nobility, I did not know how to react and I walked out being a hero and she was there...waiting for me. I held my left hand vein where the needle had its sip and pretending to be a touch painful than usual and she asked if I was ok...oh that question made me feel so better! I said I was fine...but wasn't still but that was ok. She was indeed happy and we had a nice laughter and talk about it and all of that...don't know if she had noticed that by now I was totally in love with her...

She left with no grand promises or anything of that sort that day and my friends had a rowdy time with that incident on that day...but it was all worth it. It takes gutsy efforts and a little bloodshed to seek what you love and this case was quite literal for me...but probably the most bloody romantic moment in my entire life (besides many other attempts). Guess its a part and parcel of life...mistakes and choices that we make and take, makes us who we are doesn't it! And after that day, I have not donated my blood at all...the fear still prevails but the memory still remains...

As for her, shes now happily married an settled elsewhere (with someone else obviously)...but we did share this moment and many more in light conversations...acknowledging each others feelings...but a bit too late for that all.

But to look back and see all of this come to perspective, isn't it true that we do a lot of foolish things when we are in love,coz only fools rush in...don't they! It made me stronger...though the story ended a few years of trials and tribulations...many such things happened after that with many other stories...but this was probably one of the most memorable or perhaps my bloody valentine...

Where art thou?

The beginning of 2004 was difficult in many aspects for me personally...but it also had a lot of hidden successes amidst visible failures which helped me revive from the abyss of emotions. In many ways, it was the sign of the best things to come...with a touch of drama, spoonful of comedy, tonnes of action and tearful tragedies with 'of course' an element of song and dance. In all these elements, there was one person among many who connected all the dots and sailed with me to help complete an intimidating journey. I firmly believe that he existed for a defined purpose and fate was what brought us all together...the same fate on seeing him accomplish what he came for, took him away from us, to let us sail on our new chapters in life.

When we joined IBA Bangalore (for my MBA) a bunch of us had delayed the hostel fees payment for which our accommodation was fixed in a place which was 5 - 6 kms away from our college. A rented apartment building where the construction was in its last stages, with zero security and a mud road leading to it. Eight flats and 32 of us holed out for a year before we had a chance to get into the campus hostel (the opportunities we saw and converted from these challenging times at that place is another story altogether which I might narrate soon in another write up)...but this is where I met the dude first and that was where it all began.

His introduction was a strange incident...we usually had a party post our MIS classes and our first was the rowdiest of all and my new found pal walks in invited and places himself on the floor in front of his glass of vodka mixed with sprite and a green chilli floating on it...he picks up the glass, gulps it in one go and thwarts the glass down and stares at us all...and then smiles because by now he was high and said "Hi, Im Sandeep from Kanjirapally, Kerala". It took us a while to gather what he said because all of them were high and stunned! I echoed out from the non-alcoholic section (with the snacks at our disposal!) "Doesn't matter...from now you will be called 'Cheta' from RPG" (Cheta meaning Brother in Malayalam and Raghunalli Paying Guest...which had other acronyms as well!!!). Thus began the saga of Cheta...(people almost forgot his real name in college from there on).

Cheta was a humble and a religious person actually...besides the mayhem of a bachelor life, he was certainly god fearing and godly at times whenever we were in trouble! He had an amazingly positive attitude and an awesome sense of humour and this kept us in peals of laughter even in our worst of moods or situations where we would be on the verge of breaking down. His sheer presence and his entry would bring the place alive and all he would do is just smile and say...'waaaaaat re!!!' He would be so sportive that it was hard to believe how he would share a laugh at a joke with him in it...he would also reply in the same humourous manner that the other person would have a better laugh.

We both were fans of rock and metal music but what got us on the same page was Pink Floyd...he and I would go completely high after listening to their songs (without smoke or booze) and he would decorate his room just to get that effect right for a Pink Floyd number. Ironically, his favourite song remains to be 'Coming back to life...'. We would sing, yell and scream the songs it at 2am or even in the afternoon...didn't matter, we were sheeps over another brick in the wall, comfortably numb in their sorrow with high hopes. He once fooled me when he narrated a malayalam song saying it was an unheard psychadelic pink floyd number...such was his humour!

He was a master in Photoshop and loved anything animated - movies, songs or cartoons. As one can see, he was indeed the most animated persons Ive ever met in my life. I wonder where the inspiration came from! A sucker for malayalam comedy movies that he would recall dialogues from each of his favourite comedy movies and mimic it to perfection! His passion for war and fantasy movies was also admirable...he would get lost in this world of his where he would critique and analyse the characters role and the plot like Roger Ebert...such was his insight! For our COSMOS quiz club, he was the creative mind behind all that took form and shape. He wasn't a part of the council but was such an integral part of our team that it didn't matter to him at all...he even worked with us for the grand event with a dislocated shoulder...such was his dedication to a friend's purpose and dream.

So much so for his lighter side, he also had a philosophical and brotherly side to his persona! He would be a saviour in tough times and lend his shoulder (even if it was a touch too high) to those who needed it. His conversations and understanding would be so amazing, that he would make you laugh or smile at the end of it all...making us feel miserable that we had to be upset about the whole situation at all! He would shoot philosophical lines out of the blue and he would take a minute to recall what he actually meant to say...his short-term-memory-loss-esque behaviour would catch people in roaring laughter. He was also a big fan of my writing and he would refuse to reply to mails because he wouldn't know how to write back! The only reply I would ever get was a big WOW...and that is something that I terribly miss these days.

Cheta and Academics were bitter enemies and best friends. He saw them as mountains to climb and also a walk in the park. The best moments would be when he would check the results and he would end up first confirming is his name wasnt in the 'failed' list...such was his selective optimism! At class, he would be in rapt attention until a question was fired to him then realization would dawn on him about the reality around. A true entertainer in and out of class and a class apart for sure. One must have been there when he would prepare for examinations...most of his books would have marks of his sweaty forehead because he must have slept over the same page he must have started on! Such a daredevil...he would have the guts to give a paper in such a preparation and still manage to scrape through in all glee and buy us all a cup of tea. Cheta's birthday celebration was probably one of the most rowdiest of all celebrations we have ever witnessed and to be honest, his sportive spirit was tested and he came out the happiest after his birthday by each and everyone in college...even those who did not know him...thats how he became even more famous!

There have been some awesome moments with the gang where we would all look at the same gal crossing the street or walking by and all of us on that moment would look at cheta and he would just say "You thinking what Im thinking?" He certainly enjoyed travelling and liked exploring new places, learning new languages in a funny way and also miss bus stops while going in buses! He couldnt run for nuts...it was tough to get him to catch a bus and not that he couldnt...just that his huge frame would only allow him to walk and that walk was one of the most distinct style I have ever seen. We termed that walking style "the manufacturing defect" (which actually wasn't). It was that trademark walk that could get us laughing even if walked say froma distance...we knew he was coming! His dancing was also a few moves but he certainly enjoyed dancing or even headbanging! I still remember every scene of our trips to the concerts in Bangalore where we witnessed legendary bands like Iron Maiden and Scorpions...certainly one of the most memorable outings in our life. Cheta was literally a rockstar in my books and will always remain to be...

I can go on and on with this and I would be glad to do so....and so would he. I know he is reading this from somewhere...but it is one of the toughest articles I have ever written...emotionally. We still e-mail him and scrap him once in a while on Orkut...and still celebrate his birthday the way he always wanted it to be...an occasion! I certainly think that the group has got stronger and the bonding has just got better...sad that his soul was the only adhesive and ultimate sacrifice to keep things alive. He would always want it to be the way it was and the way it is...He has been everyone's pillar of strength...a grand smile with a big heart for a giant!

Sometimes we tend to question God as to why do the good die young...I got my reply from a good friend of mine when my world turned upside down..."probably someone else needed him somewhere else like you guys needed him once before...don't worry...he is where he has to be." When I heard these words, I felt everything falling in place and there was another belief that he was still around somewhere. The purpose of a persons existence in our lives is actually known only when that person ceases to exist. Such was the effect when in August 2008 (on the night of friendship's day) we all spoke to him on a conference call and that was ironically his last.

Its been a year my friend...where art thou?

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..."

Saturday In Sanity

Just back after watching an amazing movie called Body of Lies...shot completely in the Middle East on the theme of terrorism and the CIA et all...and when I walk out of the Sathyam Theatre...it pours like a flapping drape of water... from a thriller of a movie where the desert was a common sight, to see Chennai draped in this heveanly pearls was quite a sight...better was the ride back home. It was the caressing rain which softened the mood on a monsterous and manic traffic busted road...not the one that drives you mad and cuts like a knife. I must say...the battery must have gone bonkers with the rate at which I honked my way back home. People have just stopped responding or reacting!!! Ignorance in this case was bliss to them...

Back home for a hot cup of tea and a bowl of mixture and savourites amidst the growing rains and I set a playlist to get in the best of mood and it goes on till a long lost song starts to play... November Rain by Guns n Roses...and here was the best part (without sounding cliched or corny), the curtain of rain dropped down to a thunderous applause as if it was opening the stage to a symphonic and epic conerto of the elements...the intensified dramatics showered and the power packed performance was a sight to see...and it was indeed November...what a moment! The song brings back a lot of memories and a feeling of peace and comfort and its lead solo was doubtlessly lifting and pacifying after a stormy interlude.

What followed this magical moment was a nostalgic journey to the past when an old friend replied to an old mail...perfect! Lot of promise and a lot of memories...best days...doesn't take long to sink in the glory of ones past and into the promises of the future...with great weather comes great friends and brings back a lot memories...and then the door bell to break the bubble...back to reality.

Grandmaaaaa or paatii in Tamil...her turn to visit home made the day even better. As she slowly paces her way to our hall, her smile lights up the gloomy weather and brings back the light which the skies had conquered a while back, which cannot be invaded at home...happiness and smiles all the way. What an entry...which no movie can capture.

With the perfect playlist and a perfect day...I lay to rest after the light of day to the black of the night. It takes a minute to rewind and look back and realize that if this happenned everyday...it would be just too boring...no wonder such good days come after a spell of bad or moderate days. No wonder this came after a week of tough work and a well valued and well timed weekend off to experience this momentary happiness. Imagine such good days happenning at work! Might be a matter of time...lets take it as it comes for a start. As I lay on my bed...Guns n Roses sing their version of Bob Dylan's song away...Knockin on Heaven's Doors. Time to sleep and time to dream!