We are just good friends!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

We are just good friends

It’s a tale of one of those days, when you get infatuated towards a new someone and a story starts brewing up in the minds of both; it’s a time when you know. When you don’t know. When you anticipate, you hope, you fear. But for sure, you are excited!

A friend’s friend was to shift to Mumbai and had taken my number as she didn’t had any friends. Formal conversations had happened before and thanks to orkut and gtalk, we were in touch.

My phone rang. Surprise Surprise! It’s her. I had expected the call more out of hope than anticipation. And obviously I was brimming from inside.

She started, “Hello”

“Hey.. Hiiii! Nice to hear from you!”

“How are you? And how do you find Mumbai?”

“Good yar. Feels so good to be back to Mumbai after long time. Just that I’m here to stay now.Are it’ just happened that I was to come to Matunga for some work. So I thought I’ll call you. Are you free for a while, tomorrow around 4O’clock”

“Oh great! Well, I have a class. But yaa. No probs Ill take out time!” I didn’t had any class. It was more of a show-off.

“Ohk. I will call you when I come over”

The next day I was eagerly waiting. At around 4:07 my phone rang. I picked up before the third ring. It was a classmate, absent for the day, asking about class and notes. I told him I was into something and would call him back. I did not want her to get a busy tone!

She called up around 4:10 and I went to pick her up on my bike at the matunga station. By that time I had made arrangements to keep my heavy laptop bag, cricket spikes inside it, with a friend in college.

I asked her how much time she had. She said she was free the entire remaining day.

We went to a coffee shop. Over the latte, we discussed various things. Exploring each other types. Meanwhile, I was busy contemplating her choices about various things from the conversation; apart from gazing at her of course.

She said she wanted to do some shopping for casuals. I suggested Colaba and she spontaneously said Fab India. The going had been good till that time, considering it was the first “date” as such.

She was browsing few skirts and I was helping her choose (I wasn’t sure if I was confusing her), but she appreciated my help. One firang was browsing in the same section too. He wanted a little help. She promptly helped him. He saw me and asked, “Your boyfriend?!!!” We looked at each other, smiled and said, “Noo! We are just friends” He said sorry and moved on after thanking for the help.

We had nice dinner at the ‘Fountain sizzlers’ at flora fountain and by that time it was good 8 O’clock. As we came out, a beggar came behind us. I had some change and dropped a coin in the old lady’s bowl. She wished, “Bhagwan tumhari jodi salamat rahe!” Now that was funny. I didn’t know what expression to give. Both had heard it very clearly. But I chose to ignore the comment and she did too. While I ignored, I couldn’t help myself but to look at her for her reaction. She gave a sheepish grin and changed the topic.

We started on our way back. She got a call while I was riding and she wasn’t able to hear so she’d cut the call saying she was on a bike.

I dropped her at the matunga station. Again she received a call.

I reckon it was the same caller. I tried to eavesdrop on the conversation. It was a female voice (I was relieved and happy). It went like this.

“Where were you? I couldn’t hear you”

“Are, I was on a bike, so wasn’t able to hear you”

“Owwww!!! ON THE BIKE! Mumbai huh! With whom?”

She replied trying to make sure that I wasn’t listening, “Are a good friend yar. Had gone shopping”

“Uwwww..Good friend???

“Lissen! I need to board the train now. Will call you back when I reach home”

…

I pretended as if I didn’t hear the conversation. She told me it was her bestest friend Poorva who was on the phone. Then the good byes happened and the formal niceties of had a nice time and stuff.

I nodded to myself and said “Just good friend huh! Am I ready for the big leap???”

I had many things on my mind! And destiny had its say too, literally.

Pehchaan Kaun!

Friday, October 30, 2009

Pehchaan Kaun!!!

What started as a pain in the elbow, culminated in a funny streak of events.

I had triggered pain in my right elbow after playing a cricket match which subsided after rest for few weeks but kept on recurring whenever I played again, be it cricket of Table tennis. So, I went to an orthopedic at the Wockhardt. I had a 10 O’clock appointment with the doctor. When I entered the OPD, I saw a young lady aged about 23 calling out my name. She was not so tall,
sharp features with light eyes and had an infectious smile. I got contracted by that infection and advanced with a smile. She asked me, “Who is the patient?” I had to give my smile a mercy killing and I replied it was me and that my elbow was in a state of discomfort.
She started inspecting my arm and making different bends and stretches asked me whether it was paining there or not. During the process she asked me from where I came. On uttering Mumbai, she jumped saying, “Ailla! U have Sachin’s elbow” I asked her was she sure? She convinced me saying there is inflammation in the elbow tendons due to muscle overuse owing to your playing.

This line took me back to the Aaj Taks and the Star Smaachars who had made Sachin’s tennis elbow a national calamity back in 2005 and had done an excellent job of educating all and sundry about tennis elbow. How it happened? What were it’s causes? What are the possible treatments? The most important of the series was Sunday special edition on “WHY ONLY SACHIN?” by Bejan Daruwala with his stars missalignment. But nobody thought, when someone as heavy as Bejan sits on your head, your stars are bound to get misaligned! Coming back to the young female orthopedic, she prescribed me for a week of Ultra sound and I was up and running again.

Another tournament and I was down with pain. This time I went to another ortho clinic. When I entered, I saw this elderly gentleman, in formal trousers and polo t-shirt and a cap on only thing replacing a club was his ortho-hammer. He examined me and concluded with poise that I had contracted Tiger’s err Golfer’s elbow; Again a host of muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory medications to augment the physiotherapy. The pain failed to subside.

This time I went to a sports medicine clinic at HOSMAT. A simple looking guy in his thirties heard about my injury history patiently and examined my elbow joints in a X-ray. He said neither it’s Sachin’s elbow. Nor it’s Tiger’s. Calm down dude, It’s the extra growth in your elbow what’s causing the problem. His treatment has shown good results but most notable was the way in which he said, which was reminscent of Naveen Prabhakar “Pehchaan Kaun” fame saying,”Shona bhi nai, Chanda bhi nai. Abe Khufiyapanti kya kar raha hai! Julie bol rahi hu!!!

Age is just a number

Friday, October 23, 2009

Age is a mere number
My Grandpa is still fighting fit and goes for his morning walk to a nearby temple without fail.On one fine morning, he saw an elderly man struggling to cross the busy road. He offered to help him cross. Both managed to cross the road in the morning traffic. After reaching the other side of the road, the elderly gentleman said to my grandpa, “Thank you Sir. I could not have crossed the road without your help. Age has taken a toll on me. At this age of 72, crossing the road is very difficult. How old are you?” My grandpa replied, “I am just 87 and for me age is just another number”

Money, you can never have enough; But you always have enough

Money, you can never have enough; But you always

have enough

While travelling, I was waiting for the bus at the airport to take

me to my friend’s place. There I met a man in his mid thirties. He was heftily built and looked to come from a very affluent background. He was enquiring about the bus and coincidently we were to take the same bus to Ameerpeth, Hyderabad.

We were three of us waiting for the same bus and it was not much time befor we were in a conversation. He asked whom I worked for. I reciprocated and enquired the same. He had worked for 10 odd years for an American IT company and now had started his own firm. I had guessed it would be a similar kind of firm whom he’d worked for. There was a surprise. He said, “My firm works for the poor. But we work to make money. I dream about a business that would be scalable and would be a win-win”
He owned a firm a recruitment agency for the unskilled and the semi-skilled labourers. Obviously they can’t be expected to check their rocketmail accounts for job updates. What they have these days is a humble mobile. Thanks to Dhirubhai and his 40 paisa vision.

They act as information providers. They don’t arrange meetings. They just communicate openings and the contact numbers. It doesn’t seem very complex at the outset. But then he talked about the suitability of the openings to these workers. A worker who is from the Chennai belt working traditionally in the zari firms has his palms and fingers small and is suitable for the work of mobile assembly as well. So as we have the skill sets as J2ME and .NET. They store these kinds of attributes to have a good hit rate.

The similarity with the Monster.coms and the Naukri.coms is over at this stage. Looking at the constraints of the mobile storage and the meager balance; if the potential employee is not able to get a job within say 2 calls, he would lose his faith and would throw this guy out. The relevance of the information becomes more and more important.

As an IT professional would switch jobs say for an increment of 100k; this guy would switch for Rs5 above his current pay, making the system more important and more frequented too. The glamour ends here as these guys are to be found in far off villages and convinced in their mother tongues and persuaded to pay the monthly subscription. When I asked him about the money involved, he said “Money, you can never have enough; but you always have enough” Soon to realize the stop was approaching I asked him for his business card and promised that I would like to be associated with him and his business area in some or other way.

Slaying the demon!

Monday, September 28, 2009

Slaying the demon!

Dussera or Vijayadashmi, celebrates the very humane spirit "good prevails over evil". Mythology says it marks the homecoming of Lord Rama after he killed Ravana.
It also marks the end of exile of the Pandavas and reclaiming their kingdom with their weapons.
It was the day when goddess Durga triumphed over the demon Mahishasura.

Isn't it that while we celebrate the festivals, we forget the true spirit behind them. Each day it's all about fighting those demons. The doubts. The apprehensions.

While we step on the field, it's always the demon in the mind that one needs to slay.
As we celebrate the festival of triumph; let's conquer our mind and get on with our lives.

As a student, the burden of expectations; as a teenager, the ambiguity or the fear of failure; as a professional, the gravity of life; as a family, the bogging daily chores.

Come let's celebrate victory! Happy Vijayadashmi

Pig,Swine or Whatever!

Friday, July 3, 2009

Pig,Swine or Whatever!

Beep. Beep went my cell phone.
“Dear $#%@, when are we meeting tomorrow?” She asked me on Saturday evening when I was out with my school friends playing cricket; not to mention my interest in a text conversation.

I replied, “7:00 p.m.”

Beep beep! “Can you not make it earlier?” with a frown smiley

I replied, “OK. 6:50p.m.”

Beep Beep! “You are a PIG!”

I replied, “Call me Swine instead. It’s more happening these days!”
I didn’t get any reply after that. But I got a message that I would have to do some fire fighting the next morning and hopefully it would get over by 6:50 p.m.

That swine comment took me back to an incident where I had an encounter with one of its breed.

I was gleefully riding on a nice and cold December evening. I had just passed a construction site. Before I could blink, I saw my bike screeching, myself being thrown off it in one direction and my bike in altogether different direction. I skidded along the road and found myself behind the bushes. I was hurt; bruised along one side of the whole body, but my bones were intact. Being pretty fit, I was able to get up and went near my bike which was about 20 feet farther. There I could see a whole lot of more-than-eager-to-help people. They had gathered around the fallen bike without the rider. Everyone had a startled look on their face. Nobody was able to find either someone who was hit by the bike or even the one who was taken-for-granted as drunk and a spoilt brat with a fast bike under his bum. I came in from behind, lifted the bike and started it. A middle aged individual who seemed to have come straight from the TATA Tea Jagoo Re campaign put his hand on my shoulder.

He said, “Oyy, Daru peeke chalata hai!”. I replied, “Uncle Jee, Daru us Suwar ne pee thi, jo bhaag ke mere tyre ke neeche aa gaya. Aap jaante hai usse? Naam bolo uska! Hisaab chukta karna hai!” Before he could figure out my gibberish, I was off. – The fastest Indian on road!

Battered and bruised not given up yet

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Battered and bruised, not given up yet

I recently participated in Karnataka State Ranking TT tournament. It is almost after 6-7 long years that I entered into an arena of competitive or pro TT. I was half baked in my preparation. But I was quietly confident. I had an ignonimous exit in my comeback trail. I lost in the first round. 11-9, 11-8, 11-9

If I were to give reasons, I could well say that I got a tough draw. That’s hardly an excuse. I have virtually fallen on my face and I’m battered and bruised after the loss. I have two choices:
1. To hang my boots and bask in the glory of the countless moments on and off the court.
2. Re-ignite the fire that made me what I am today.
This dilemma takes me back to the incident which ignited the self belief in the then innocent bloke.

We were playing in a State Level Schools Championship. MY school team had come in the top four the previous year and we had expected (not hoped- I’m choosing my words carefully) a fair draw. Contrary to our expectations, we were to play the last year’s winner team in the first round. The team comprised of the State no 1, no 2 and no 7. It was virtually a full stop for any other team. The state team was to be selected after the matches.
I was to play the Maharashtra no 1. I stepped on to give my best. Not that I had given up, but winning against him never occurred in my mind. The match started and the mistake he did was, he took me lightly and I couldn’t stand that. For once I played out of my skin. And boy, he was shaken if not stirred.
At the 30 minutes or about, the score line read 21-16, 19-16 in my favor. By this time, almost all the stadium was watching our match and the Mumbai crowd had come behind the No 1 banging bottles on the arena with hooting and shouting. All the other matches on the adjoining tables were stopped as they could not have played amidst the deafening noise. I narrowly lost the match as I could not sustain the momentum and he got his experience into play. I had missed the lifetime opportunity by a whisker.

As I walked off the arena, all gave a big applause for my effort and so many came to shake hands with me. Till that time it didn’t occur to me that it was so near yet so far.
I went out of the stadia and was sitting in a corner letting the feeling seep into me. A cute girl with short hair and light eyes came up to me and said, “I prayed for you to win! Still you didn’t. ” and she disappeared.

That was the moment when I felt that I could have actually beaten him. It was birth of the belief. The very belief that you got to conquer even before you enter the arena.
I think I have made my decision.

Juvenile Humanist

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Endless Loop of a Juvenile Humanist
Continuing with my “Juvenile Humanistic” streak, as one good friend pointed out;

I was angry at happenings around and was trying to find answers.

Mentioned in my earlier post, I stared at Bapus’ one liner
“An eye for an eye, makes the world blind” and then thought

“Better to be blind than the one to identify only the color of blood”, then came up with

“Blood soaked clothes of my dying loved one, knew no religion” followed it with

“Religion or race is just another reason to spread hatred”, didn’t stop at it

“Hatred augmented with hunger, propels man to kill its own kind” Finally halted my streak with

“Isn’t it an irony that he coined the term mankind for the ones who can be anything else but kind”

In Hope of world peace and in search of answer to " Is world peace is a dream?"

Let's hail our brothers across the border

Friday, June 26, 2009

Pakistan has won’t he World T20 Championship. The whole country was full of bombs for a change not causing any human casualties but evoking joy and faith back in their mercurial team. We must also be a party in their happiness.

There we have people who also have two arms, two legs and a head. Most of them would want from life is a nothing more than a good job, a loving family and a peaceful life. But for the wicked politicians on either side, all is farce. No human is inherently bad by virtue of either his birthplace or family origin. What is needed is a little respect to be shown towards the individuality of others around, because they also have an equal right to exist.

Excellence and Insecurity

Harsha was once talking about excellence. There he had said, “Excellence is never insecure”. You cannot excel if you are insecure. If you do not share your ideas, you don’t get the valuable feedback. You can’t have your fists tightly closed.
“Mera naam Saurav Ganguly hai. Bhoole to nahin naa? “ Yes, our own dada has entered in the world of commentary so also has our Jumbo. Saurav’s debut on field was not as spectacular as in 1996 at Lord’s, or not as ignonimous as in 1992. Saurav was fumbling. There is no doubt about his cricketing knowledge. But at one instance he forgot the field positon “backward point”. Harsha was his co-commentator. Harsha could have easily ignored that and would have put his point of view. For not few times he must have had to digest the barb, “How many tests have you played?”
They say, you always have a choice. And he did exercise his. He covered his slip-up. He was right when he had said; you need not compete head on. You chose your path. He has chosen his.