That inexplicable pleasure and thrill of gatecrashing...

I am always averse to attending marriage parties. My mom's relentless urge to accompany her to marriage parties would always end up in she cursing me for being lazy and shy. Yeah, I am a tad shy when it comes to attending marriage parties of not-so-closely-acquainted people. Seriously, the only conversation topics you can expect are either "What have you thought about your life" or "What are you doing nowadays". To a 22 year old and a jobless jack(Techie) like me, these questions are fairly embarrassing.

But oddly enough, there is a unique thrill in crashing the marriage parties of strangers- without being invited.

Mysore is quite famous for its extravagant weddings. Its a treat to both our eyes and stomach.(If you know what I mean ;) ). There are quite a many choultries(local term for marriage halls) where the odds of returning empty stomach and getting caught are very very less. During my engineering days, when I was still a newbie to gatecrashing, one fine day my friend called me up and talked about the adventure of gatecrashing. Thrilled as I was, we left to crash the party.

There is only one rule to survive at those parties- Don't be nervous.

Since that was my first time, I was nervous and scared of the humiliation if caught. My friend cajoled me and gave me some tips and one ground rule. After that advice, it took no time for me to feel comfortable. It was only 7p.m and dinner was still an hour later. Without much ado, we selected a spot which was kind of like a vantage point for that surreptitious gaze- after all boys will be boys!. It was more or less like the ethnic day of our college- saree clad girls and lots and lots of make-up. Fortunately none recognized our faces and we continued the enjoy the ambience. After having spent around 45 mins, we decided to call it quits to avoid being spotted. Imagine our situation when sister of the bride complains to her father about two guys who would not stop staring at her! It was now time for the photoshoot. My friend had earlier advised me to wear a brand new T-shirt. The reason now became clear. The stage was set ornately. I was surprised at the enthusiasm of the relatives to get their photo click along with the couple. Even we joined them, but decided to stand at the corner. This was my most cherish-able experience in that wedding. That was how two strangers became an unforgettable piece of one's wedding. No matter what, we will always be talked about by everyone their family.

It was now time for the food- it was delectable. From starters to desserts, everything was mouth-watering.

But, seriously, How often do you go to a stranger's wedding and find the most dreaded professor of your college spotting you?

It happened with us!. Right in front of us, right there! He recognized our faces(mischievous as we were) and was surprised. My friend wittily took care of the situation and we escaped narrowly.

The first time is always exciting. When I look back now, the photoshoot is the first thing that comes to my mind.

Imagine two persons from their families looking at the wedding photos and suddenly we turn up...

This might be a closest match to their conversation:

A (After looking at my face) : Who the hell is that tall guy in Red Stripes?

B: Oh yeah!! and who the hell is that guy in a round collared T-shirt? Doesn't even know how to get dressed up for a marriage!

A: I pity them. They must be some college students staying at a P.G who have come here in search of good food.

B: Yeah! (Disgusted look) Now even our children will ask about them when they look at these photos!

One thing was true- I stayed in a P.G, but I never went there in search of good food. It was that thrill and inexplicable pleasure of posing for a group photo, that excitement in staring and that nervousness which made my gatecrashing experience memorable.

Lifeu Ishtene...

“My **** manager had assigned me hell lot of tasks dude”, grumbled my friend when he came home at 8p.m on a Friday. I am sure he is not the only grumbling friend I have; there are lots of others who mutter about their software jobs. I always wonder at the tendency of most of us to wrap their problems in one garb and name it “corporate life”. While relapsing on a chair in an air conditioned room watching you-tube videos (only when free :-P), we complain about our handsome-paying jobs.

In this article of mine, I would like to divert the readers’ attention towards other professions as well. Perhaps, it might make them realize that the grass is always greener on the other side of the hedge. We are so prejudiced towards the negativities of our jobs that, this strong feeling of dissatisfaction has turned us blind towards the real struggle of some non-corporate employees. The clamor for ‘job satisfaction’ has led us into believing that, whatever job we do in IT industry is worthless and this feeling of resentment often results in high attrition rate.

It is strange how every other job looks awesome than the one we are into. Being a software engineer, we might even take a liking towards the profession of an auto-rickshaw driver or a bus conductor. Some study engineering passionately and get into their dream jobs, stay happy for the rest of their lives and the rest pursue it for the prospects of a high paying job and sooner or later, they end up cursing their profession and start waiting for a dream job to strike them, as if it’s an epiphany.

Even though I am still a newbie software engineer, I have had the opportunity to understand the plight of people working only to fulfill their square meal and I couldn’t help but think about our lives where even slippers are branded. In spite of basking in all the glories and luxuries of our jobs, yet we crib about our lives. That life where shoes and burgers are just a click away.  In fact, I feel that all the comforts we need are easily accessible to us. But, I was compelled to contrast my life with that of Suresh, (Name changed) a ‘Lift operator’. For 12 straight hours, from 8p.m to 8a.m, he does nothing but wait for someone to press the button so that he can justify his presence. How can he make peace with that constant, agitating thought of “What am I doing here? No, I deserve to be in a better place. I can do better things than just pressing some buttons”. I couldn’t help myself from asking him about his duty. Pat came the reply- “Ella aa devara kaiyalli sir. Nam kaiyall enide?” (It’s all destiny sir, we are just his puppets). I stood speechless. That day, he taught me an invaluable lesson- “Be complacent with what you have and what you can achieve. Don’t put your weight behind dreams which are tantalizing.”

I felt, he deserves a much better salary than us for his patience and mental strength which we don’t have.

If you are in a quandary about your job satisfaction and have run out of options, I would suggest you to strike up a conversation with people like Suresh who can placate your agitated mind.

The sight of a busy Bangalore street is quite disturbing. Horns blaring, crowded streets and hawkers wading their way through. Amidst all this hoopla, Gopal, (Name changed) a BMTC bus driver skillfully prevents a minor collision and ultimately avoids a major traffic jam. It was quite an unusual sight in a BMTC bus that day- vacant seats! I took advantage of this situation to start a conversation with him. Unlike Suresh(Lift operator), Gopal vented his frustration on the higher authorities. He spends half a day away from his family, driving a packed bus on the streets of Bangalore with the constant thought of punctuality in his mind and yet, becomes another victim of harassment. 

There are still a lot people like Suresh and Gopal, whose miseries are totally unknown to us. We are actually a privileged lot. Think about this statement for a while. I hope, if not many, at least some of you can appreciate this fact. So, when you are sad with your life because of your job, stop being sad and think of those people who have experienced what we might never experience- “Poverty”.

Hail Thy Heroes..!!

“Dhoom-3 scales a new peak by hitting the 200crore jackpot in less than 5 days”. “Aamir khan mesmerizes his fans yet again”. This news was so important that it shared the headlines along with the news of a historic political turnaround in the national capital. Speaking of that “100crore” figure, our wallets should not be forgotten. We don’t really mind to spend some extra bucks and 3 hours just to watch our favorite hero beat those goons black and blue. What is so special in our b’wood movies or rather b’wood heroes that we don’t care spending some extra bucks? And, we wouldn’t want to miss that fun of watching a movie on a weekend at some swanky multiplex, do we?

After spending my time watching considerably umpteen b’wood movies, I am contemplating on distancing myself from them. Barring a few exceptions, every single movie I have seen till date portrays a hero as personality of stature infinitely greater than Superman. A hero is the best bro, a respectable father, an obedient son, an ideal boyfriend and a caring husband. He is the complete- man, ideal in all respects. Every girl would dream of such a man. Heck Yeah!, I myself would dream to be such a man.!

A hero is a singular personality who has mastered the art of everything, from cooking to martial arts. Without any training, he can compose a beautiful poem and sing instantaneously in a tone so mellifluous that it hypnotizes the audience and yeah, I forgot to mention about his dance moves- even Michael Jackson would say “I’m proud of ya!!”.

 A hero plays piano like Mozart and guitar like David Gilmour and mind you- he just places his fingers on the strings and the guitar plays by itself! OMG! He is the asli the baap of the Rajini anna!!

He can even don a chef’s hat and cook amazingly delicious items. I am quite sure that if our hero were to pick up a street fight with Bruce Lee or Mike Tyson or The Undertaker, they would have to run for his mercy! Seriously, how many skills is our hero well versed in?! We can use every adjective out there to describe him and we lavishly spend some extra bucks to watch such flicks?

You’ve gotta be f***** kidding me.!!

I don’t get this nexus between heroes and superbikes. Ever since John Abraham flaunted his physique on a super-cool superbike, every hero has resorted to a superbike to impress our heroine. Perhaps they have taken the phrase “Express to impress” way too seriously. I don’t know why, in spite of having a repertoire of skills, they resort to some lame-a** ways to get laid. Does riding superbikes make them super-cool? Hell No!

Many people idolize the heroes because of reasons which are still elusive to me. I don’t know why our heroes receive so much attention when they make a public appearance? Should Salman khan make a mistake of talking a walk in a park; people surround him and crave for a mere glimpse as if a Halley’s Comet has been spotted. A philosraptor would ask this question “Will Uday Chopra experience the same?”

Apart from the movies, we see our heroes everywhere- Advertisements, cricket etc etc. The reason behind them sharing a huge chunk of television space is the same- WE CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT THEM. We want every product which is being endorsed by them- from toothpaste to T-shirt.

I am sure many of us would have thought of sporting our favorite hero’s hairdo or a six-pack. If people are still musing, Tere naam style might ring some bells. But talk about Abdul Kalam style, B***h Please!!

Jokes apart, why do we try to be like these heroes? Everyone might be interested to know if Sallu Bhai (It’s what we affectionately call him) bought a new flat at Juhu or a 20lac bike. We know that King Khan is now aiming at a 12 or a 16 pack but odds are, we might be unaware of some “did you know” facts about them! We follow only what we want to follow. According to my opinion (No offence to my friends who follow our heroes very seriously), we should call quits to the practice of epitomizing our ‘HEROES’. Move on people, don’t we have anything better to do?

The Good Old School Days.,,

THE GOOD OLD SCHOOL DAYS… 

I still remember that day when I got punished for the first time for not polishing my shoes, that day when I was made to kneel down for copying and that silly expression of joy when I had stood first in my class. And today, 12 years later, I sit down in front of my laptop to pen down beautiful reminiscences of my school days.

Our beautiful life is mainly made up if three phases: 

School life: 10 years 

Pre-college life: 2 years 

College life: 4 years. 

What we do in these 16 years defines our personality. I lived my 12 years to the fullest and now, as I enter the last year of the very crucial "4 years", my childhood photos made me write this memoir.

As I quickly scurry through my past life, a sense of nostalgia runs through me. I always wish I had a time machine so that I can live my past life again. That life where innocence ruled our hearts. That life where doing maths was fun. That memory of longing for the lunch hour and having lunch in a common lunch room is priceless. That awesome moment when the bell rang and we all packed our bags; the much-awaited break in the form of a P.T period will not easily fade. It is an enriching experience to recollect all the past memories which enliven us, in an otherwise mundane engineering life. 

When I stare at the board full of integro-differential equations, my minds floats back to the days when I used to comment on my geography madam’s drawing of India map which I felt was a herculean task to draw. I miss that maths class where our fingers assisted us in adding numbers. How can I forget the last day of annual exams? How can I forget the unique celebrations and the ink-drenched uniforms? Come June the first and that exuberance and hijinx of the first day of school was pretty cherish able. That excitement of meeting old friends, getting acquainted with the new comers remains etched in my mind. I wonder if I was the only silly person who used to give flowers to my teachers in STD III and when my teacher used to smile back I felt proud of my mother for meticulously arranging the flowers decoratively.

That magical moment of accepting prize in front of a thousand odd gathering is simply one of the moments I always recollect. Anchoring the assembly, giving commands, leading the march-past, I fall short of adjectives in describing these memories. I lost track of time when I entered engineering. Trips, studies and movies have pretty much taken over my life. I need a book to pour my reminiscences but unfortunately I have to put them in the form of a memoir. After a gap of five years, when I was glancing through my childhood photos, a melancholic feeling took over me which reminded me of the good old school days…

Marbles then, Tablets now....

“Dad, I want a footlong paramesan with some mayonnaise sauce and a cookie” said a kid (approx. 8 years old) when I had been to a fast food joint. Then I reminisced my appetite back when I was a kid.”Ammassss, churmuri” was what I recalled.

When I witness this shift between the generations, my mind, subconsciously sets forth for the quest of finding answers and gets lost in the labyrinth of inexplicable situations. I have seen tremendous transformations in the childhood which we lived and the one that today’s kids are going through.

Marble holding hands are transformed into a tablet flaunting hands. Now all the children need to remember is their facebook password. Online games have replaced the good old gully cricket and PSP’s have denied access to playgrounds. There was an air of innocence back then; friendships were not built on materialistic basements but transparent understandings.

With an ambition of cracking the IIT right from their childhood, the children are not exposed to the milieu that we were during our days. With no holds barred life, we grew up in an environment that was undemanding and stress free and I think we have not messed up with our life- everything is hunky-dory.

“My son Adi has a tennis tournament at 10am and a keyboard class later at 1. After which he goes swimming and later attends his tuition classes at 6.” Said Mrs. Sharma to which Mrs. Kulkarni replied “My daughter lost the first place in her class by a whisker even though she had missed her tennis practice and painting classes”. Agreed that every mother wants her child to be a next Navratilova or Michael Phelps, but do they really care about how much impact their aspirations are going to make on their?  

With a plethora of responsibilities and ambitions, the kids today are on their foot every moment of their lives. They have become oblivious to all the fun they deserve. Though this sacrifice may reflect on some aspects, but to what point and purpose?

Childhood is that phase of our life which defines our personality and if they carry the burden of such huge aspirations now, I can only wonder how their adolescence will be!

Though I might seem to be a staunch opponent of the trend, but I don’t have any reasonable doubt in arguing that, although this lifestyle might ostensibly seem to reap success, but it is degrading the quality of life these kids deserve.

Bangalorized..!!

I sprang up to the ominous tone of the alarm at 7 am on a mundane Monday morning. A dreary and threadbare week ahead flashed in my mind. Halfheartedly, I scurried through my daily routine and left home 2 hours early to battle the traffic. Exhausted and languished, I reached my office only to face what was even worse “The Corporate world- A planet where they will lure you into the world of drudgery far away from peace and they will pay you to sabotage your relationships with happiness”.

Welcome to Bangalore, a city packed with millions of hackneyed spirits jostling for free space, where a phony life has taken over an authentic one and crime rates are on an all time high.

With population growing at a rate one has never seen before, Bangalore is nearing saturation and quality of life is deteriorating as the day progresses. Trees are being felled to make way for swanky malls and the good old departmental stores are at their fag end of their life. Slums are accumulating and with that instances of crimes are on the rise as well. This is how Bangalore looks like to an outsider and yet, he decides to dwell in the suburbs of this cursed Silicon Valley of India and the reason is so conspicuous.

People get paid handsomely in return for their happiness and the lust of money has festered their minds. Everyone is in a rat race to earn what is more than necessary. We are dancing to the tunes of a pied piper of Bangalore who has influenced the way we lead our life. Earning has become our supreme motivation for attaining Moksha. “The youth”, which constitutes the indispensable part of Bangalore life, has redefined meaning of Relaxation. Pubs and discos have become the new places for recreation after a grueling five day work. The best of weekend is spent either sleeping or relaxing. A plethora of transformations has struck the city and we have always been excellent to adapt.

A casual evening stroll has been replaced by a frantic chase behind an overcrowded bus; silence of serene parks has been destroyed by phony and zany laughter sessions and especially, we, the youth have been successfully alienated from relationships and passion. We have been successfully transformed into robots, whose life cycle start on a Monday morning and ends on a Friday evening.

The regard for hard earned money is lost and so is the quality of life. People flaunt a western outlook so as to avoid humiliation.

I called my friend after a long time asking him to meet me and pat was the reply-“Silk board traffic sucks dude, sorry to disappoint you. Let’s catch up on fb”. The reason was out of bounds of my imagination.

And, Oh yeah! We still live in Bangalore, not Bengalooru and I won’t quit hoping for that day when we start leading a normal life.