Mighty Mouse!!!

All of us have been troubled by this little creature...well it has charmed us equally as well. But can it inspire and show us courage in unusual times and places? Of course it can...their persistence and presence of mind is a wonder I am yet to fathom...though they have brought down kingdoms with just their family's humungous presence and spread!  Defiant and Desperate...they have survived the ages and have remained the same...a rare attribute indeed. 

But what I am to narrate is just one tale of courage which will certainly enhance our perspective of this creature. Just visualize this...those petrified eyes, praying paws, shivering whiskers and that villainous nose at work!

Rushing at Mount Road amidst the traffic rush and a speeding clock on my wrists reminding that Im late to work! Abusing, honking, screeching, overtaking...name it, you got it! Its just the usual start to any day...and Chennai is no exception! The dictionary opens its fancy pages and all the words pour like tar sticking to stone...

Amidst all of this exactly at a point called Thousand Lights (Near Greames Road), I saw something that happened for 5 seconds that looked like something that happened for 5 minutes...our protagonist is desperately trying to cross the road on all fours...to it, we are all...GIANTS on a roll! The little brown thing was dodging, jumping, scampering, squeaking and what not...all just to get to the other side of the road...without getting squashed under someone's wheeles...

Sometimes we tend to sight something which is meant to be witnessed despite what happens in our surroundings...like looking into the eyes of a stranger in a packed bus (when you could have seen the person next to them) etc etc...

Similarly this happened too...amidst all that chaos my eyes were glued to my troubled protagonist who in that 5 seconds managed to capture my attention and set my mind racing to see if he would end up safe or not...for his benefit, I got out of his way, avoided squashing him and went on my way...

But something prompted me to look back just to check if everything was alright...and just when I turned my head....the little mighty mouse made it to the other side, with a leap of faith like Michael Jordan jumping to the hoops!

Just when I thought it was a happy ending, I turned my head to resume my journey, I had to hit the sudden break to save my nose from being squashed at the back of a jeep...and I then got back to my abusive journey to work...but this tale kept me smiling all day long...

Cheers Might Mouse!!!

Tea Time Tale...

Cloudy evening...break from busy office hours and a hot cup of lemon tea. Peeking out of the 3rd floor window to an awesome view of the age old port, the historic railway station and the murky old seas...Dare House at Parry's Corner.

Nostalgic memories race by on any cloudy and overcast day (much to my relief)...to all the good times Ive had especially in school(s) (as many as 5 schools in my history)...and what came to mind was the out of the gate conversations we used to hold in great animation and hilarity that even passers by had a giggle or a grump when they passed across us.

Topics galore...from inter/intra school issues to parents / cartoons / cricket / Ads / music / movies...basically everything except studies (though we spoke about our teachers as well). Worst part would always be that I would end up going home late and then the barrage from my folks...same story (report rather) would follow suit the next day when we would meet again.

We hardly do this when we grow up dont we? Some of us join for a puff of smoke or a cup of tea around the corner and catch up on a variety of issues...personal and official. Those days we dint need all those stimulants...

It struck me today after what I saw and also after remembering those good times...with which I will conclude later (for which you will have to read on...)

Coming back to the view from the window...I scan slowly to see the story of the streets and almost everyday is a joy to watch...I just realized that almost all of us have now started staring at screens and have forgotten to look out the window...so today was one of those days where I took my option...

A bunch of boys (7 to 8 of them) outside the parking lot of the Madras High Court, waving their arms and shaking their heads in a very animated way, like a symphony conductor on stage...they were excited about something...reviewing the day perhaps! My eyes stuck to them...dont know why but it brought a smile to my face...and the flashbacks screaming by...

Some was gesturing whether to take the next bus to rush back home, one was pulling them to the tea & biscuit stall, one chiding the other by striking his forehead and pointing to the corner, one waving his hands and gesturing a hug or the entire universe...like a confused hummingbird, my eyes were just capturing each action and reaction...

I kept smiling and this went on till the tea in my hands was warm to gulp down half a cup...till one thing hit my eye...one of the boys had a hearing aid in his right ear...that's when the pattern emerged...they were all using Sign Language to communicate...and it dint bother them at all...it was then I realized that even in silence, there we can have a sound conversation.

To my interpretation...I thought one was gesturing that he should have spoken to that girl in the bus, and the others telling him, you should have tried in school and the next gesturing that nevermind and he would see her tomorrow anyways, and the last one concerned pulls the shirt of our hero and tells him "lets go have tea for now, tomorrow will try again!"

As I said before...it struck me today after what I saw and also after remembering those good times...that even in silence we can have a sound conversation amidst all the rush, chaos and madness. Do we make an attempt...we should! Do we make it happen...we must!

After so may trials and tribulations, we still suffer from communication errors that cost us a lot...seeing this kids drove the message in my head that to be understood, one must be heard out first and clearly responded too...just a sign would do...wouldnt it?

With that 5 minutes of observation and a hot cup of lemon tea down my throat, another lesson learnt with a smile on my face which disappears when the boss then calls...asking for his report and I go back to staring at the world I think it is...

(Photo Source - http://bignews.biz/primages/19/deaf_children_PR.jpg)

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...

Lecture at Loyola!

There are times in ones life that disbelief and amusement go hand in hand...moreover, the fact that we are called to demonstrate in what we specialize...not knowing how good we actually are, is a good example! Such a thing dawned on me recently and it was one of those moments where I couldn't stop smiling whenever I thought about it...before the curtain raiser and after the curtain's fall...

A mundane day at the office was shaken by reality that hit me the hardest...dint pain though, got me laughing! All I hoped, that it wasn't a gag...and it wasn't! A call from an unknown number and I was apprehensive that it must be from a damned credit card ad or a ringer tune offering...it was none! This gentleman takes time to introduce himself and the purpose of the call and Im listening...I say just one thing in the entire call...Yes Sure! That's just 10% of the call and the agreement is made...a guest lecture on Creative Writing at Loyola College...audience...final year English literature students from both the bachelors and masters course!

A back-bencher, a rebel and an average studious guy, hated lectures...did it all! Ridiculed professors, cross talking, arguments, bunking, delayed submissions and of all the people, I had been invited as a guest speaker on Creative Writing! It was at that moment I believed in...This is Life! And it was happening...

Next was to prepare for the battle! Students, crowd, young guns, boo's, cynics, distractions et all! My mind was racing in all directions to decide on how to deal with this upcoming debut and it was then I decided to prepare it from a students perspective itself wrapped up with a story of my journey in writing! It was then I reminded of how theories and books dint actually help when I was in college...it still wasn't helping today's generation because we always wanted the real deal...and I was going to give it to them!

How do I dress up? Permission from Office? Announcement to friends and family? Photos and notes? What do I speak? Whom do I refer? blah blah...so may questions! Never knew speaking was so tough...but what the hell! I was to speak on my passion for creative writing...so why fear? That was how I overcame my fears and made my presentation ready!

D-Day...10th March 2010 and the hour nears and I'm all dressed up for the occasion and Boss is happy to give me permission! Friends and colleagues pour in their wishes and calls to wish me well and i set out on a hot summer day on my way to the college! Reach there just in time...damn traffic! I arrive at the scene and Im shown the way to the hall and boy...there was some crowd! A session was in progress and questions galore on journalism as a career...but my mind was elsewhere!

I meet my co-guest speaker...an accomplished poetess Sharanya Manivannan and shes prepared as well...cool as a cucumber! I'm huffing, puffing, racing heart beats...it was all about to come crashing down! The session introduction is done by the host and we are introduced by our profile sheets...mine obviously been beaten to death by Sharanya's profile! Well...not a good start but nevertheless...scope for improvement!

Sharanya delves into her area of writing passion and moments and Im all awed about her nitty gritty details and so was the crowd...dumbstruck, the crowd applauded her effort and fired a few questions which she dealt with panache and style...smooth as silk. Next on stage...yours truly!

And then it finally began...lights off and the monitor flashes with the title and the slides...I felt like a completely different person on stage than what I was off-stage and it worked! The alter ego funda worked and it was blockbuster! As it continued from slide to slide, it became a dialogue and a story telling session and I could certainly see an engrossed audience...and that pumped me even more! The entire lecture went in full flow and my only message was to inspire and pushing people to write...anything newly written is creative! Mentioned my inspirations and credited my heroes and mentors who helped me get this far...the applause followed and it was music to the ears...it was only then that i realized that it was close to 45 minutes of speaking...a bottle of water to fittingly quench my thirst!

The Q&A session was interesting and was probably the coolest part of it all! That extended to almost another 30 minutes or so and it was just pure fun to answer all sorts of questions ...from personal, tragic, fun, inspirational to instances of truth and dare etc...got a few damsel eyes staring at me as well..it had it all! All inclusive...it was a splendid moment and was worth looking back as a revelation and a turning point for me to say the least! Thanking everyone and urging all to write no matter what comes through in life...picking each moment in life but telling not the obvious...to write with the twists of thought and emotion...

I did receive a memento as a sign of thanks and it was an honor to even be on stage and tell people about my passion for writing...my creative side of life had indeed come full circle and i felt at the top of Maslow's Motivational Theory's Triangle...I'm glad I wasn't booed or thrown rotten eggs at or even criticized...I was certainly humbled by the open audience and the applause was a perfect climax.

For me, it was a 'rockstar' moment in life thus far and for those about to write...I salute you!

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...

Sometimes I feel like...'Super-Man'

All fans and non-fans might know certain facts about Superman...impossible as they may seem but nevertheless interesting! As one may know, certain super-hero characteristics are derived from basic human abilities and positioned as a super powers to such characters. So what makes me feel like Superman? Read on to know more...

It all began in my school days when I was in Delhi...when I discovered what winters actually were like. Each time in class, when the breaks would arrive, despite the woolens we wore, the guys used to rush out with a war cry which went like "chal dhoop sekte hai yaar"...which literaly means lets soak in the sun friends! At that point of time, coming from Chennai, the best thing to have ever happened to me was the winter (because as one might know, we have 4 summers and the occasional monsoon). The boy who ran away from the sun and at times got baked and cooked up in the sun, was now a fan of the sun...how?

To those who have experienced the legendary Delhi winters wouldn't agree any further...especially when an invisible foggy morning engulfs the entire city and one can actually feel like a walk in the clouds. But what rescues that moment is the invasion of light...the emergence of the sun! In the winters, what gives relief in such a bone chilling moment is indeed...the sun! The sight of light in itself gives the eye a much needed break from darkness and gloom!

But the best part was when the suns rays would just easily caress the frozen and broken skin giving hope to a goose-bumping moment that would arouse even a dead hope...almost erotic! A massage to be quite honest when the muscles and the mind relaxes at such a moment...I didnt feel any better before and this to me was quite a revelation as time passed by! The power of the sun is indeed beyond ones imagination and so can it actually touch us all in such critical moments! To me, it did...

Moments in school with the sunshine during the winters just became an occasion for everyone in the class to exchange a funny moment or two and the entire school would be out soaking in the power of the sun...which brings me now to Superman! The other day at work, I was feeling a bit feverish and a shiver was keeping me chattering for a while...the A/C in the office beat the living hell out of me...but something from my past struck my head as a solution to all the trouble...

Like how Superman would fly to the skies when he was affected by Kryptonite to regain his energy and recharge his powers...I rushed to do the same...ran (though Superman flies) to the open terrace canteen where the sun shone like a diamond...and just stood there...embracing the powers. It was a feeling that took me back to so many years of my antics in school...and it worked! The tingling feeling began right from my neck and gradually flowed from my back, relaxing the muscles and the mind...killing the shivers I had a few minutes back.

It was a magical and powerful moment and what an amazing feeling! Needless to say...a little over-exposure resulted in a slight frying feel and then I felt it was time to rush back to my workstation. But for those few minutes, I got my universal medicine and it was priceless!

The next day...unusually after the sun's treatment, I happened to fall sick and a 2 week bed rest ensued...which is another story altogether...for which I wouldnt blame the sun...but myself! But that is why...not 'everytime'...but sometimes I feel like Superman...

Nail the Enigma V

Here is the last enigma of the decade...not that this would be the end of it all! Hope you can crack this one...Nail the Enigma V

A thousand words with the nod of the head
A single meaning with the dip of the eye
An unexplainable mystified emotion of Eve
The epic of love shrunk in one quick moment

As simple but powerful as it can get. Make sure you stretch your imagination and see what you can discover in these lines...the closer you get, the better it is...but you are most welcome with extremes!

Till the next cut is delivered...happy reading!

Delightful December...

The December of 2009 couldn't have got better at least in the last decade of my life...and what a way to wrap up the decade...in style and in surprising success! To me, this was obviously wasn't easy...time has been a good father and has tested me in ways Id never imagine. It only makes sense that good things finish last and last forever. So here is a short description of how delightful (in many ways) my December was...

A 2 year wait came to a climatic close as the news of my poems inclusion in an anthology was finally being considered for print and publish. This would be the first news in my 12 year writing career that such a dream is coming true. Though the release has been pushed to the next decade, this is a news that any poet can feel elated about. In a world where publishers have shunned me away stating "Poetry Doesn't Sell", Prakriti Foundation has broken that myth for me and have brought this long cherished dream alive. Four of my works will feature in an anthology that will feature some of the most amazing poets from all over the country (those who participated in the 2007-2008 Poetry with Prakriti Festival). This to me will remain in my books, one of the best moments in my life as poet and as a person. Lesson - Persistence Pays!

What followed suit was an out of the world announcement. The US Consulate in collaboration with the Prakriti Foundation decided to give th art of poetry a bigger and probably the biggest stage in the form of the Poetry Slam Festival ( a version of the Brave New Voices). What amazed me even further that when I received an Invite not only to participate in the festival but as one of the featured poet for the event. This shot me through the roof as this was something I wasn't expecting in my life at all and to be a part of Poetry's biggest celebration and performance, was quite an honor. More so ever, the entire event garnered a lot of press coverage and shockingly, there was a life size snap of yours truly with some amazing words written about the event and about the performances. It was my first time on-stage in 10 years as a performing poet...much has changed since then and this time I did well...I could feel it and it has come a long way.

December also got a lot more musical for me personally as I decided to take my year long strumming on my Acoustic to the next level. I finally decided to buy my Electric Bass Guitar...what a defining moment in my life yet again...and an expensive one...but a worthy investment. Any musical investment must be encouraged and is always one of the wisest things to do. The 4 string bass was a beauty the moment I saw her (though i had been researching quite a bit on what to buy but this caught my fascination)...an Ibanez GSR200 Black model. Honestly, in my pursuit to music in life this will stand out as the biggest decisions and one of the best moments that has given me a bit of confidence more than anything else. Its a matter of time now...

What amazed me even more at that time was that my parents officially began their alliance search for my marriage. I found it very funny for a start as they (for a change) spoke of my future as a married man and all of that jazz. It was interesting as I kind of felt good about losing my single-ship and stepping into a more settled form of lifestyle. Online registrations, horoscope exchanges, matching criterion, temple visits, consultations aplenty! Name it and the whole family was into it all. Friends and cousins doing their bit by their usual teasing and kidding and what not! For a change, it was quite a pleasant change from the mundane and routine life that began to set in. Things happen for a good reason Id reckon...guess it was the sign of things to come. It was now only a matter of choice...rather destiny! Love the suspense bit...

A moral victory came through in December in the form of my confirmation in my current organization. This was a critical moment in my life at that stage because this was like a slap in the face of one of my cousin brothers who thought this lad would do nothing without his help! Well cousin...can you feel the heat now! (I had to censor this). I feel so good when I say that and I wouldnt mind saying that publicly because thats how much insult and disgrace he had brought upon me. Guess the best way to reply was by pure action and this confirmation was like a shot in the arm! Toiled hard relentlessly and tested by fire and brimstone...and finally my first victory against all odds.

Chennai had been through a rough dry spell and there was a major lull in the environment. The heat got to all of us and it rained fire in the month of December! But soon it was all gone as Chennai witnessed a relentlessly long-due storm that hit us for almost a fortnight. The sun was nowhere to be seen and it was quite a sight and a time for all of us. The dark skies engulfed like a blanket over the sun and the water ravaged the city like an onslaught. To me it was music to the ears and a portrait to the eyes. Every man-made thing was put to the test of mother nature's fury and we were all at her mercy. Power cuts, cracked roads, overflowing bridges, destroyed fields, closed institutions, umbrella sales...name it and you had it in Chennai...that too in the winter of 2009 December!

What capped the month off finally was quite sportive for both me and the country! Well, honestly Ive improved on my fitness regime in order to compete on a larger field of the game of cricket. Indeed it did take a good shape and I got myself into a good team with a few friends and we also got into a league tournament which saw us take a 3-0 lead in the group play-offs. But what got me really on a high was the fact that India, for the very first time in its history, became the No. 1 Test Playing nation in the world. All first times happen for the first and last times....because after that one has already been a part of that moment and its a matter of history repeating itself. This landmark moment was history itself and I personally was witness to it (amongst billions). To me, test cricket is the toughest form of the game and to be the best nation in the world takes some courage, character and charisma. Under the leadership of Mahendra Singh Dhoni now, we seem to have all this and many more to that list...in fact I wouldnt be surprised if there might be case studies written about him and the team in many a B-School. Such has been the impact of his leadership style at such a young age and hats off to him and all the players that made it possible. Jai Ho!

As one can see it by now, lot of things to celebrate about in this month...personally, professionally, publicly and nationally! 2009 indeed was a rocking year with a few of my favorite metal bands that kickstarted a rocking year and a delightful december to close it all. Hopefully this new year and the new decade brings about all the best things in life...A very happy new year to all the readers and thanks for being such wonderful followers...cheers!



(The image is that of the Winged Victory Princes' Gates at the CNE Grounds in Toronto. For a more interesting reading on the original headless Nike statue at the Louvre, do check out this link -
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winged_Victory_of_Samothrace)

This thing called...

There are a lot of aspects that make us 'human'. It has been proved from ages that our race is a unique blend of certain intangible constructs that seem to go our way in the desparate moments and drives our purose to exist and to survive. The list may seem short to some or long to many...to me its just a handful. All these years of my existence has taught me lessons aplenty relentlessly and time and again, its been the hard way. Yes of course, I have fallen, befallen and arose from the depts to take my life head-on and gave back my fullest to not only survive, but to live to fight another day (many of us have been through the same, so be proud of it). People have viewed me in a lot of lenses and have had their room for passing judgments and freezing on perspectives. It has quite internally been a long waging battle of sorts and it has brought me into many lights and shadows. Such has been my battle filled journey with this thing called...Love!

This has been long due and might just be the right moment to rid this off my rustic brains before it decays into something meaningless and far fetched. In fact, the thought process began quite sometime back but fuelled to be penned down just now, thanks to my status message on my social networking hubs and mail accounts...it stated - "Single, Alone and Bored..." and believe it or not, the reactions and comments I recieved was more than any other statement I have ever made or articles in the past that Ive ever written. Strange, but I liked it when people sounded concerned about the status message...and my status. What one must do to get people talking or just turn their heads...such was this attempt and it worked. The perfect spark to fuel this flame. So...here it is!!!

Its a fun filled article and I am not here to script motherhood statements or the Dos or the Donts or leave a bad taste at the end of it all but will try my best to give that grin at the end of the page which both people In and Out of love wouldn't mind...so there goes my disclaimer or a forewarning...

Lets begin with our school days...when we are at our best in imagination, creativity and visualization...this is probably the only phase where we might have a parallel world where reality is a far fetched dream...where Utopian mindsets are bull-shit. No boundaries and no restrictions... which brings me to Phase I - The Good Old Days of Impossible Infatuations. Anyone would agree that all our innocent feelings and expressions were at its peak during this phase of life and I have gone through it all and quite interestingly found a lot of time for it than what I did in my classroom or for the homework. Early romance was primarily influenced by movies and we know how a romantic story and song sequence worked (and dare not anyone deny) with dream sequences which would have running around trees, two flowers coming together, costume changes, close ups et al. Since no one wanted to be serious in this phase, the chances of having multiple crushes or affairs were quite normal and switches were normal (or I'd reckon...) on the cards. Some would be shocked, surprised and flabbergasted but what the hell...what are friends for! The corridor walks, secret talks, eye to eye looks, compliments, cards, calls and what not! I have been through it all (bet many would have)...ups and downs...one sided, two sided, other sided and no sided. But of it all, on a personal note, I was seen as notorious and friends around me at one point of time hated it...this was the phase I made more foes than friends. In truth, I was trying to deal with myself and got more deeper and deeper...with extreme ends at the stick...with good and bad. There were plenty of fights and conflicts because eventually you are not the only person to like another...many hits on the same target...so that meant wars...in and out of the school compounds. And one can now imagine my plight!

Which brings me to Phase II - The Days of Evergreen and Possible Romance. Here I would describe ones college days (both UG and PG). At the brink of adulthood, the vibrance of youthfulness is what drives us to adventure and escapades (in any given form)...license to thrill and be thrilled. Did we even ever care about the rules...hell no! Recklessness and Rebellious made the emotion of Love quite heartless and soulless...Love suddenly became tangible than immortal. Those who crossed this phase were certainly immortalized but those who couldnt cursed the emotion to the pits. This is the stage wher Love is at a make or break stage...and where people either carry their beliefs or dump it to hell. It was in this stage that I carried my belief ahead and despite setbacks and frequent realizations I felt it hard to stay away and see the world thrive its existence on just Love. It was to me, a universal emotion that keeps us human. Severe criticism was drawn and many critics were turning cynical and abysmall at that phase of life and this also gave birth to many philosophers and poets. I couldnt believe that those who were once wrapped around in the arms of love were forcing their ways out and abusing it to death. I chose not to...as simple as that.

Which finally brings me to Phase III - the beauty of reality and what love is and is not. In this phase, we grow up to become serious beings and life shows us a lot of meaning and purpose at this stage. At this point in life, we witness ourselves in a mad rush of work and in all of this madness, we go through further hell...to be honest, the days of a single story is no more valid or relevant at this time. We question the purpose of our actions in the past and mull over an uncertain future...we analyse our mitakes and feel miserable or feel good if the same story is continuing. We search for greener pastures because it is our desire to feel wanted, loved and needed...humans arent we? Who prefers or likes to be ignored and unwanted? It is in this notion that we never give up our quest for love...cynics become hopefuls and even they consider to change their views to remain relevant. Such is the power of this emotion! I might sound cliched or corny throughout but whatever said and done, no one can run away or hide from this emotion...it is powerful and is felt in all phases of life...young or old and in any form! There are many words to describe, sub-genre and what not! It all boils down to something very basic...that makes us all human!

We might witness Innocent victims and evil perpetrators widely display their actions, intentions and consequences...I honeslty think it is the choices that we make that define us. Blame not the emotion...blame oneself for the choices weve made or pat ourselves on the back to have chosen the best. It is only in our dying moments that we choose to realize...cant that realization come at the death of a story? Why wait for an end of a lifetime to know what you could have done to live another day...live another story? Imagine if we gave it another shot...how many more friends would we have met, how many foes would we have done away with! I have met some of the most amazing people in my life and I have had the priveledge of knowing them in person...Ive met them in the toughest of times and certainly in times where I needed them the most.

Somehow in a rough road trip, where people curse the roads, I relatively chose to go along the bumpy roads and break my will, ego and my heart, only to rise again. I havent succeeded yet but Im enjoying the journey so far. Im not giving up yet and I will not till my last breath. Call me a fool or whatever you want to...just cant let go of (funny) this thing called...Love!



Note - The inserted pic is titled "The Poet and the Muse of the Ideal" by Carlos Schwabe (1877 – 1926). He is one of the more disturbing Symbolist artists. He seems to have had an obsession with death (possibly associated with the demise of a close friend when he was 17), and his paintings often contain allegories of suffering. He also displayed an interest in Decadent literature, and the above pic is an illustration painted by Schwabe for Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal. I somehow felt this relevant to the subject I wrote...symbolically!

Air Raid Bombing!

A fine monday morning...fresh breath, Brushed teeth, clean shaven, neatly combed, formally dressed and polished shoes...an executive gets ready for a busy week and this happens to be an important week for him as a lot of ideas would get signed off and he would be meeting the top guys in the company. Warm weather with the advent of the Southern Winter...chirping birds and racing squirrels...songs from the radio and resounding chores from every door...the world is as it should be for him...a peaceful monday morning. It is then he realizes that it is too peaceful than usual...an unusual silent and smooth going so far...he shirks it aside wondering perfections was'nt bad at all!

Off to the parking and the vehicle starts with the first kick...surprising but pleasing...brings a wide smile on his face...it couldnt have got better, he thinks! He plays a soft number in his ears for a change hoping for a smoother ride with a pleasant sight...and exits his apartment with no hassles, waving goodbye to his loving mother, grandparents and his dad...but unusual of all of them to be at the balcony at the same time waving goodbye...he dint mind that at all...he rides away to work.

The first signal he encounters, turns green without him having to hit the brakes or wait for a few seconds...day is getting better by the minute. He now begins to pray (which he usually doesnt) to keep the good times coming...overtakes many vehicles that actually give him way to go ahead...all of them budge aside! Even the beast like bus hustles aside to let him go...his smile gets wider and wider...makes his way and speeds his way up on the city's biggest and busiest roads.

A point comes where the entire traffic keeps right on the broad road and our protagonist is on top of his journey so far imagining that the whole world was making way for the king. What follows in the next few scenes is unthinkable...

The entire stretch of the road is tree-less except for this lone patch with one monstrous tree lurking out from one of the office building premises into the road towards which the traffic on that day wasnt willing to venture into. Our man today on seeing the world-wide gap to cross everyone to go ahead races into the unwilling patch of road and then....it turns into a war-zone!!!

A formal shirt turns into an army fatigue with polka dotted multi colored shots from the tree top...from sunshine to the shade, the hero now feels all the droppings like a shower of rain but indeed it isnt...its an air-raid of the antagonist(s) who have been waiting for their victim for all this time. Clad in black and wailing in code-words the enemies drop a series of foul-smelling, double colored, semi-solid, hard hitting and well aimed morning-formalities based droppings on our hero, beginning the end of his dream-run!

His smile turns into a sigh, his song turns to abuse and his hopes turns into despair...and he now wonders the build up to such a disaster / tragedy / misfortune / catastrophy (choose the best from the options)...the chain of events...it was all meant to be! He was bait and fell prey...when had a monday morning been so pleasant in his life! And he fell for it...and that too on a monday! People whom he overtook now had their last laugh and in retrospect sighed in relief. What a war can do...especially with a low-range air-raid bombing...especially on a monday morning!

By now you know who the protagonist and the antagonist of the narrative were...it is indeed a true story and one of many to ever happened to each and everyones life. So please stop laughing at me and remember your days of being bombed in your unusual and usual places and times and have a good laugh on yourself and your friends...its the best way to beat these darn crows...

Never Say Die...

Ive always craved to meet a godfatherly type of person in my life for various reasons. Someone who could show me the way or even tell me if this was the best thing to do or the best way to do anything I aspired. Unfortunately, in that search in trying to find one, I tread on a self driven and to be honest which wasnt the easiest and not the wisest to do. My belief is that if there isnt an external intervention, we journey with only a personal perspective that guides us throughout (which most often isnt the complete picture). I missed doing a lot of things in life for which I regret at this age...but here is the best part...ive also learnt something aweosme by taking my own path...its never late to do anything in life. A dream is a dream and an effort doesnt depend on age at all. It is therefore a challenge to all those who have almost or nearly given up...never say 'die'.

As a person, Ive always enjoyed encouraging people...get the positive vibe across and be a part of their success. There is so much joy i experience that sometimes I thought of becoming a coach (which I dint want to tread towards deliberately). It doesnt matter who or where or when...my general feeling is that everyone has an ability they might or might not be aware of. Im not here to preach the Nothing is Impossible theory but to an extent...if we set a dream for ourselves...chasing it will certainly take us somewhere if not for nowhere. You might encourage a kid to take its first walk or an retired officer to take up singing...doesnt matter. Its all about helping people re-discovering or uncovering their abilities.

According to me (and many more philosophers around the world) believe that its never too late to do anything in life. We live only once (hereby denying the theory of an afterlife) and I believe we must live it by doing what we always love and cherish and stop cribbing that we can't! Imagine the time we must have wasted thinking we can't than how much time we could have used by saying 'why not'!

So keeping all of this in mind, here is a perspective of how we can let others realize their long lost but aspiring dream of doing whatever they had in mind. Its very simple...all it takes is a little push! Obviously it musnt be taken in its literal sense so let me unfold this mystery to all those who deserve that push and to those who are willing to give one...

Here is a little trick first hand...there is no way you can identify exceptional talent in an off-hand manner...you can only come across one. It is because they have already found their potential and they only need to elevate themselves from a stage to the spotlight. The key is in identifying those who had that dream but due to various circumstances or limitations might not have been able to see their dreams become reality. The fact that they wanted to be like superstars might be a distant dream but at least they might get a second start. To see someone smile after theyve made their first attempt at their dreams is something I feel thrilled about because it is that small step that gives them that giant leap.

Why am I preaching so much? Why do I sound like a Business Baron whos written a 400 pager book which keeps delivering the same message? Am I sounding like a coach whos got a career or trying to make one? So many questions in your minds and I can already sense it. But, to be honest with you all, I just love encouraging people who dream...if there is a passion in life, I enjoy helping people find it and bring it to reality. Any little skill or hobby that they possess, I try to push them to take it to a bigger level...Im not building champions or winners here but just helping normal people do something extra-ordinary in whatever scale they wish to. Do note that any dream can go far only as much as how far you want it to go...I only help in the trigger (which according to me is the toughest job). But as they say...a good start is half the job done.

Most of my effort is actually unplanned and it all begins when I come across a person who is generally cynical about things around or someone who is depressed or an introvert in life. Actually they are easy to find but hard to get around with...positive people are hard to find and easy to get around with. So that actual effort is to turn them from at their current degree of their downward spiral to a higher spiral where they see a little relief in their current predicament. Its all about belief and hope...if you can instill any one of this, then it certainly works...takes time but worth the investment.

Most cases where I have tried this theory, there has been a lot of positive response and the other person's happiness and hope is the sign of instant success. This theory is entirely self tested as well...let me explain! My brother has been playing the guitar for the last 6 years and obviously the kind of music Ive influenced him with. So the root of it all actually was the listening exercise that we used to have whenever school or college would get over and when we would play the music on the speakers. The best part was he was inspired immediately to play but I was still stuck at listening and researching music...whereas he was at a total upward spiral. When the time came when we got him an electric guitar, I was still listening and researching and he was playing faster and faster. He kept pushing me to play and all I kept telling him that there were too many strings and frets and it was just impossible! It actually took him so many years to successfully convince me to pick a guitar when one fine day he said that they needed a band-mate and I was there but was of no use despite my know-how! And that day I wasn't hurt...I was actually inspired! It was that same day I stepped out to the music shop and got myself a guitar. Its almost a year now and I aspire to become a bass guitarist one day and im 26 years old. Most people think that its too late to do anything...I dint dare to dream to do this until I was 25 (thats almost a third of my life if I were to live a hopeful 75!).

I once tried teaching a 7 or 8 year old boy of a labourer's family at a construction site on how to bowl and he was an aspiring left arm fast bowler...he grew so much in confidence that moment and his pace increased with every attempt and his smile became a mean grin like he was already in a match or so. That brought me so much joy that I could feel the enthusiasm get better and better with just a few words and continuous encouragement.

I once met a small boy (from a fisherman's family) selling flowers at the beach and he was pretty persuasive with me and a friend...and then I took a conversation with him and asked him about his aspirations (this was the time when APJ Abdul Kalam was the president)...and he mentioned that he would like to be like APJ Abdul Kalam. So i told him...its possible provided you do well in school and you stopped selling flowers. But that was one of his family's incomes and he wouldnt be able to . But then I couldnt deprive his family too...so I told him to take his schooling as primary importance and then his profession only if he had free time. He went back to his sales merrily and I almost found an amazing sales and marketing guy there...he could sell and I had to buy his product (though the flowers were meant for my friend). I did nothing there but just sow the seed of confidence.

This is just my tip of the iceberg...there are so many of them like that and imagine if all of them could do wonders if they all realized their potentials...young or old. All it takes is a little push. Find them and help them...give them that little confidence and they will see you as their godfathers or godmothers...it matters so much to them. It might be a struggle if they dont breakthrough but at least they will attempt. As the olympics emphatically states...its not about winning...its about participating. Lets help these lost souls that have given up to find a good reason why they should be happy again...

Another angle that I tell people to take in life is that we must prepare oursleves to lead 2 lives in one (No derogatory interpretations here please). In todays work pressures, it is so difficult to pursue our interests or even small hobbies which we once cherished when were in school or in college. We must push to lead 2 lives...how...its simple! When we finish work and return to our homes and havens...(which is tough and most unpredictable) one must switch off from work life and pursue some interest so that they are connected to themselves.

I know its easier said than done (I cannot help people who possess Blackberries). I even urge people with kids to help their kids pursue their interests and in that manner...rediscover theirs! Sometimes its so heartening to see your kids take up your dreams where you had left them doesnt it! Think about it...those who couldnt...can teach! And there is no dialogue called - I dont have time or there just isnt any! I think we must get over this line and make time. I know friends who are into so many things despite working or studying...Ive seen it and its possible.

So, now you can imagine...if I have started to play the guitar (and Im proud to say so despite my limited knowledge)...anyone can begin a dream and make it come true at any point of time in their lives. By doing so, make sure you pass the vibe and energy to others around you...young or old and see the magic unfold in front of your eyes. Help those who deserve it and tell them that once what was given up, those dreams must never die...

Nail the Enigma...

After close to a year of the 'Random Question' Series, I decided to build a sort of a comeback scene to my roots (guess I ran out of subjective or thematic matters temporarily). To be honest, its been more than a long break from writing poetry and I felt the best way to slowly comeback to what I did best once upon a time is this interesting section that I have titled - Nail the Enigma. This is a different way of approaching the art and is in no way connected to Mr. Langdon or Mr. Brown.

The task is simple...I pen a few lines based on a theme / subject / scene and in reply, pen your thoughts to how you interpret it (need not be accurate...can absolutely stretch your imagination). Dont worry...I will try my best not to sound like a villain in an interrogation scene with questions and clues...but why should I have all the fun! So lets put a smile on that face and welcome the first ever lines of 'Nail the Enigma' section...

Saga of the fall scripted in transparent ink
Immortal and disappear with light’s one wink
An orchestra on stage with sound of black and grey
The gods are in tears when they see us all pray…

So, here...we...go! Nail the Enigma...Im counting on you all.

Look forward to all your interpretations!

Journey Back and Forth!

Music is a widely spoken and written about subject for centuries and in almost everyone's likes and favourites (without the shadow of a doubt) the presence of music in their profiles would always be a given. But I am penning this to delve into such a phenomena in this article...rather, I would like to take a personal perspective (cliched I know, though some of them must have written on this too) and take you on an interesting journey on how I discovered music...

Funny how it all starts for all of us isnt it...we are always curious to know more from the time we are born arent we? From this infant stage, the initial curiosity moves up to inspiration and tells us to explore further and deeper and build our tastes for music. All of us look up to our parents or our siblings to see what they like and see if it matches our likes and dislikes...and this habit mostly begins when we are barely able to speak a complete sentence.

Born in Delhi, my journey began when I was in Kuwait for the first 8 years of my life and my dad would allow me to listen to the local radio which surprisingly had english songs played for the working ex-pat population at that time. By the grace of that, I tumbled upon my first rendezvous with english music...(I would not get into the genre for now). This was during the late 80s when the likes of Bon Jovi, Guns n Roses and other artists were dominating radio air-time and so did my dad who was a big fan of certain select artists (which I will name a little later). My dad was a big fan of quality music systems and was very specific about quality of the speakers...this was what got me into music first actually. My fascination with electronics and the lightings n displays was what caught my attention besides the regular cartoons on TV. It was quite a beginning...

My home has always been a treasure chest with a lot of musical goodies around (not about instruments)...the access to music was plenty...at least as a listener. The radio programs were good and the quality of music at home was also quite diverse! I would find everything between Pink Floyd to Dire Straits and from Black Sabbath to AC/DC...and guess where I would find them? All of the tapes in my father's old worn out air bag high up in the loft. That was one of the biggest discoveries of my life and I would always cherish that moment when I pulled that dust wrapped air bag forecully from the loft (all by myself) and dropping a few bags in the process and almost falling off the little bench I had placed to reach me to the top.

But what amuses me the most is that at times mom and dad would say listen to this, listen to that or say dont listen to loud music or dont listen to angry or aggressive music...but eventually it was all that my dad heard when he was in his yesteryears! So why not me...I thought! And thats where the whole episode of the rebel in me was born where I would listen to what all my dad had collected over the years...it actually dint have extreme music but the diversity was quite impressive! Allman Brothers, Elvis Presly, Jimi Hendrix, UFO, Ravi Shankar, L Subramaniam, Dire Straits, Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, AC/DC, World Fusion, Beethoven, Bach, Disco, Bee Gees, The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Jazz artists and country music too. (Phew!)

The next task was obviously take each tape and run the entire album on my cassette player till my dad would sit beside me and help me sort out the best from the worst and give me a little history lesson about the artists and his younger days listening to them all. One of the few moments with him where we would have a hilarious conversation...where my mom would stay out for a change! It was then that I realized that there was so much music before I was born and I knew what I was liking...he even told me that he had seen the Woodstock Festival in a movie theatre in Madras when it was released in the 70s. That must have been such an era to be in...hippies and gypsies as a lifestyle and all that rebellious establishments with a lot of freedom in the air...protest this, protest that and what not! My mom was a big fan of old hindi music and the entire family (in her end) were a set of singers who could take stage and perform some classics from any era...no comments on my dad's side (chuckle). Thats when I decided to take a trip back to a time when I was not even born and when my kind of music was taking form...yes I am talking about 'my' discovery of Music.

This meant that I had to go back to say 20 years from when I was born and back to another 20 years after I was born...Im taking about a 40 year span (plus another 10 years in the new era of music today). This was an intimidating task and surely wasnt a short term task at all...but I figured out...if it took a lifetime, it would be worth each minute spent backwards and forwards. Well, to be honest, we werent the well off families...we were at the lower to mid middle class of the strata (if I had to use my judgment from today's learnings)...and this was by no means the right position where I could explore the music I wanted...it was expensive and it was tough to find...yes, I am talking about a pre-liberalization era of India where we were just being welcomed in the arms of the rest of the world...I would surely like to thank late Prime Minister Narasimha Rao (also known as the Chanakya) who brought in this phenomenon (please note - only for changing the country from a Socialist to a Market Driven economy)...enough of the politics now!

Wherever I had been in India post 1991, I had been surrounded by Bollywood music and this almost killed my hopes of exploring music (I like) in a place where it was hard to find music I liked. Thats when one day when on a trip with my friends I realized in a ride to one of Delhi's underground markets that there was a thriving business of english music audio and people who dealt with it dint know a word of English except for the numbers...thats when I realized, it was in the wrong hands completely...and it was these people who probably were suppressing the in-flow of english music and pushing the supply and demand of Bollywood music...sad but true! Until such time, the radio was my best music friend and on that day, I spent my first 125 rupees and bought a collection of Def Leppard's album titled 'Vault'. The next few spendings were on artists like Bryan Adams and Metallica (for a start). Such was the joy I couldnt have describe to anyone...it was a revelation and a wake up call to my conquest of searching my kind of music.

Till then I had been plagued with so many genres of music that it pained me that I couldnt find what I wanted. Even the radio stations were playing the best music at the worst time...late noon (when I would be in school) and late night (when I would be in bed). But in Delhi, I was away from my parents and lived with my grandparents...this helped me discover my taste for nocturnal interests and honestly I enjoyed every minute of it. Great music and what a fabulous RJ to top it all...5 - 6 stations playing 8 - 9 hours of amazing music - from orchestral scores to heavy metal and fusion instrumentals and what not! Thats when my departure from pop and anthems began...I was stepping into my world after a prolonged period of misguided trials and turbulent tribulations.

The absence (rather the beginning) of the Internet was also another challenge...it was the beginning of an era and it was damn expensive and rare to find too (Not many embraced this in the start but it soon caught up). Music artists had jus begun putting their websites with their profiles, discography with lyrics and images / pictures...and thats when I realized...that I was in an ocean! Let me explain...shelves on shops often do not display the entire catalogue of an artist...they place what sells the most and what is the fad and fashoin! Now that was when I realized I was in the music business trap...had to break free and escape! Thats when I began my real discovery...this time it was of any artist I chose, I would go to their history, understand their circumstances, their background, motivations, explore right from their first albums till the latest songs and doing all of this being in Chennai was the toughest of all things to do. It was during these times cashflow at home was a bit of a botheration...whatever savings I had gathered...was put in my discovery journey.

At one point of time, I suddenly got into this flurry habit of mercilessly purchasing Audio Cassettes off the shelf and growing my liking to records that were released few decades back (this too wasnt complete till I got every album in the catalogue!). It was an expensive affair and I would literally put an accounts statement to assess my pocket money collection and my spendings...obviously one side weighed heavier...but trust me, to be broke and still listen to your favourite songs is a feeling I cant describe...such pure bliss. Over a period of time, with regular surfing on the net, I discovered so many old and new bands that I almost lost count. What I also discovered was that they had been playing for the last 25 - 30 years! How could I miss it all...I thought to myself...thus began my passion for reading...e-reading at least! Whenever time and place permitted, I would dive deep into a band's history and read their entire story, reviews, run through a sample of their songs and get a feel of what it was to be in a band. What caught up was the child-like but amazing habit of air-guitaring, air-drumming and of course...head-banging.

At this point of time, my parents knew that this boy had reached the line and had crossed it quite some time back...and they had to let go. After many attempts on rules and regulations, plenty broken and bruised...they had to give up...another small triumph in a mammoth struggle. But what followed soon was my brother! At say 7 years younger...he was already seeing me as his teacher rather professor in inducting him into the ocean...and to be honest...I successfully did and shamelessly let me admit...he is now a rockstar...way ahead than my dreams and ambitions.

There have been times when my detailed budgeting experiences were seen as petty...that was when I got my first computer...it was infact a laptop...what followed suit was a flurry of exchanges and trades of music...the quantum and quality was unbelievable and in the shortest span of time in a 20 year journey...came true! So to speak, I seem to had covered the last 40 - 50 years of music that I missed and that I am living with...in the last 20 years of life. I so much look forward to whats in store...and I am glad to say that I havent missed the best yet! To be honest, the discovery is still on and to uncover lesser known bands and appreciate their music is in itself a tribute to the past that has helped shape the music of today. With the advent of MP3 and the growing power of the internet, the world now seems to be coming into one's fist. Such has been the ability to reach out to bands that do not even have a clue of their following in India (For e.g.).

Despite all the financial troubles and the ignorant surroundings and crowds, I had the pleasure of even attending the concerts of some legendary bands over the last few years on my own savings (even taking my brother along to one of them)...such was the feeling of being able to see what I dreamt of and accomplishing what I was struggling for my life. I think this is just the end of the beginning. Of all remaining efforts, one day I promise to go to the Music Festivals in Europe...and that might just be the foreseeable end to my journey...hopefully, that is not my final destination.

Music today at least to me is like any source of energy...like its the sun to the earth. And when I look back at the quantum and quality of energy I have derived so liberally, I owe my life to it. Music today is such a powerful means to convey so many things and bands of today have become more influential.

One day when my kids ask me about my music tastes and preferences to shape their own...I would tell them this story for sure (obviously that might put them to sleep) but would also encourage them to dig into the past to see what shaped the music of today...but guess what...I just did their homework.

Back Pocket Logic

The 'Bolt from the blue'...from someone I knew. Something hit me down a few days back and I was compelled to think about it day on after that moment and I mulled over the fact that I was a victim to the same...Logic! At times, we see adverts that describe kids being snappy about their ideas and hence turning out to be logical...so many adverts on how the youth sound logical to the ears of the old school. That day at home, it was logic from the other era! Stumped I was...by a deadly googly...completely bowled over! You'll know as you read on.

Getting ready for office wasnt eventful as ever except on this day when nothing but a 'logical thought' bolted across from the corner room where my paternal grandpa's sister resides. Well, shes approaching 85 years and like the veterans of our previous generations, had more presence and longevity than anyone in the room...just a sore back to indicate the quantum of work that woman has done in all those years. Amidst her singing and chanting in her room, I was blasting my metal music in mine...two extremes in one home. A discussion soon sparked out with her and my mom and that was what caught my attention...it wasnt about the music for sure!

"Amma...wheres my purse?" I screamt amidst all the noise and commotion of the morning chores..."On the table only naaa..." replied my mom...and right as ever she was. This was when I noticed my grandma walk past on her usual walking exercise but stand still when she saw this happening. After her rounds, she called my mom and asked her a simple question..."Why do people keep their purses in their back pocket of their pants?" in a very naive manner but in a staunch and pure Tamil...right from Srirangam. As expected...the whole home fell speechless and rattled us all for a moment...the day the earth stood still. Not expecting us to answer, she replied by herself...

"Sometimes people complain that they dont have enough money to spend or they are unable to save enough for the future!!! People complain of thefts and pick-pockets too...do you know why? I cant understand this logic...let me tell you why. People keep their purses near their buttocks where the only biological function is excretion...the same will be the philosophical correlation to your purse...money will only be spent and not saved! People keep their purses in their back pockets and go ahead...when these days people are unable to see things ahead of them...how can you expect to take care of your purse when it is behind your sight? Hence the temptation for strangers and miscreants to pick-pocket and more the chances of thefts! In our days, they used to make shirts with pockets stitched on the inside of shirts and this had a sound logic. We were always told to keep the purse or our money in our chest pockets...and this is where the 'heart' was...'Lakshmi' (Goddess of Wealth and Prosperity) is where the heart is...today it is somewhere else...and we complain of spendings and thefts. How can anyone even dare to put their hands into your shirts and try to steal? Isnt that tough to do than keeping it in your back pockets? Dont you have any shirts like that?

The only reply we had was "They dont make any like that"...in fact it wasnt the right answer and she did not expect an answer. There was no answer actually...the fact is that we buy branded shirts that really dont serve such smaller purposes. Was she kidding us...'hell no' she wasnt! It was at this moment, where we were all still on our feet and she slowly waltzed back into her room expecting no answer...such was the spirit and such was her obsvervation and anaylsis. That was the moment I felt stumped in a long time in life...harsh lessons with a subtle question. I was speechless (so were the others too) and the only thing I could do was smile all the way to my way to office like a fool with a revelation to share...such was the impact of that logic...coined the "Back Pocket Logic"

Though that hit me the hardest and I realized the toll it took on me for the rest of the day, I am yet to find a shirt like that...honestly, they do not make any. The truth is also, that the shirts that I choose are branded and they do not make those kind of styles anymore...and God (too) hardly makes wise people and logical gurus like my Grandma anymore...

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..."