Really?

Everyone around me seems to be getting engaged, getting married or having a baby!
Even the ones who are younger than me. As if it wasn't tiring enough to hear "when are you getting married?" it is even more irritating to hear them gush about a new born baby.
Don't mistake me. I love babies as much as any sane person would. But excess of anything isn't always good. Worst part is when they say "Oh the baby looks just like the mom/dad". Duh. Of course it would. I would be shocked and flabbergasted if the baby DIDN'T look like its parents or particularly the dad, if you know what I mean!
Sheesh.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

Tired. Helpless. Frustrated. Angry. Irritated.
My emotional state seems to oscillate among these moods for various reasons. It drains you. The head bursts at its seams. Sometimes I just want to run away from everything.
From all the responsibilities.
From all the commitments.
From all the nagging.
From all the petty fights and not so petty ones.
From the meaningless, mind numbing job.
From all relationships.
Yet I am still here, absorbing everything like a sponge. I need an outlet to squeeze it all out, before I reach the point where I can't soak in anymore.

New year ramblings

Happy new year to everyone!
Hope everyone ushered in 2014 better than I did. A stolen bike spark plug, a flat tyre, a working day and an extended traffic jam on the way to the office is definitely not the way one would want to start a new year I'm sure. If all these doesn't test your patience, the innumerable morons driving recklessly or ridiculously will definitely do so. And don't get me started on the hilarious-to-absolute crap-to-downright-chauvinistic-and-cheap wordings behind bikes, cars and auto-rickshaws that I see everyday.
"If u r bad, then I ur dad"
"I am hot cos i fly"
"Whoz next?"
"all girls r my sisters except u"
"snake bite is better than falling in love with a girl"
"mommy told no race"
"my bike, my road.. who's father what goes?"
I could go on and this is not even a representation of even worse ones that I have seen and read which for some strange reason I'm not able to recollect at this moment. I mean seriously, where do these people come from!
I would cuss and hurl all possible expletives in my dictionary either verbally or in my own head at each one of them. But over a period of time I have learned that I just waste my energy trying to knock some sense into them ( so MANY of them, each day a new dickhead) and that the only thing that changed in these futile attempts was my blood pressure. Not that I don't lose my concentration and temper now but the rate at which I used has drastically come down. All sober, calm and rational in my thinking and actions. At least I think so till the next time I flare up! People come up with different innovative ways to ignite the short fuse connected to the head, making it erupt like a volcano.
And people includes strangers, friends and family. Like my dad who chose to fight with me for some insane reason. No amount of reasoning or calmness could cool him down and I flew into a rage as well. It became a huge mess. I haven't spoken to him since.
With my dad it seems to oscillate between 'calm and sensible' to 'absolutely absurd'. It would almost seem as if we are communicating in alien languages when on the latter end of the spectrum. Well, 'communicating' wouldn't even be the ideal way to describe it. How does one understand the thought process that runs in the background resulting in such weird outcomes? It can't be a generation gap issue. I mean it is not like we argue about technology, faded jeans, girlfriends, live-in relationships, body piercing or tattoos or anything that is remotely associated with today's generation. Yeah, I know body piercing and tattoos have existed since eons but hope you get the drift. My dad and I are somehow on the same page on such topics (well, to a large extent). But there is so much disconnect on managing expenses at home and by whom, maintaining relationships with immediate family members, marriage or the idea of it, getting tasks done at home, going to the doc etc. Seemingly harmless topics but packed to the hilt with dynamite. And once the fight or argument is over, days of cold war ensues. No word spoken. Not seeing eye to eye. I mean, it extends to do-we-even-know-each other kinda atmosphere. Ego battles.
Sheesh, someone please let me know how you handle your parents!
As if the crap one gets every now and then at office wasn't enough, you return home to get an overdose of it.
Well, hope things tidy up soon enough and it starts to become a good year. May 2014 be the happiest year to all. Till 2015 arrives :)
Adios.

Why Mr. Anderson?

Why is it so hard to be motivated?
Why does it feel good to pursue tiny ego clashes?
Why is it easier to wallow in past pain and sadness?
How do we acknowledge the present state of being and move forward?
Why is it easier to be lazy and stubborn?
Why is it tough to forgive and forget?

The Voice:
Yeah, I fought with a friend or family member. Wasn't my fault entirely. Let him or her apologize or compromise.
Yeah, I have this great idea which I think will click. But I don't have the time or people to help me with that now.
Yeah, I want to finish this new book. Or maybe even work on that proposal. But there is a new episode of Broadchurch downloaded. Lets finish that off and then maybe check Facebook a bit or StumbleUpon and then we can work on other stuff. Oh crap, it is already 12:30 AM now. How time flies. Lets finish the work tomorrow. 
Yeah, I am a bit low and sad today. I don't feel like hitting the gym or doing anything right now.


Each one has his or her own comfort zone for everything. A zone that is not easy to come out of. Not easy, but not impossible. One needs to be constantly reminded and pushed to come out of the zone, lest we settle more comfortably into it. The force of it pulling you back into its nucleus is far greater than even gravity perhaps. We need that escape velocity (no reference here to RaGa) to break free of its reach.

But why should I do it? What do you know about I am feeling? Who are you to tell?
Only you can answer the questions you pose. It is ok to feel low. It is ok to feel sad. It is ok to cry. It is ok to get angry. It is ok to be lazy, to indulge. It is ok to shout at the top of your voice and hurl expletives. What is NOT ok is to be in that state infinitely, or for prolonged periods at least. It is just offsetting, draining, taxing to yourself and others around you and you lose yourself in the process.
Each time that little pesky voice in the head rises, shake your head hard, like a wet dog drying itself of water and subdue it. Tell yourself "Down you little turd! I am not listening to you. I need to go to a different place". So you are in a pretty crappy state. Ask yourself what you would advice someone else if they were in the same situation. Ask yourself what brought you into that state and what must be done now.
If you have friends to whip your backside each time you slip into the vortex, even better.
It is never easy. But as long as you acknowledge that you are lazy/adamant/sad/hopeless/angry/whatever and you want to change it, that is half the battle won. The other half is in bringing about that change.
Try it once, fail, try it again. Push. Motivate. Make it a habit.
Try power yoga. Dress up strongly. Strike a kickass pose. Show the finger. Workout. Blast the stereo. Feel the energy.
Discover what clicks for you.
There are so many things that you can be doing, so many people you can be meeting, that you can use your energy on instead of fretting it away.

Who are you, panda?
I AM PO.

May the Force be with you.

The Mail

It was a bright and sunny March morning, a Sunday. I was out on the porch, reading the newspaper, sipping a glass of orange juice. The neighborhood kids were engrossed in a loud game of cricket. I felt nostalgic seeing the kids play, reminiscing my childhood. Ah, the fun we used to have.

My train of thoughts was interrupted by a shrill “ring, ring”. Glancing across, I saw the neighborhood postman stopping at my neighbor’s house. The ringing continued for a few more seconds, the postman waiting for either Ashok or his wife to come and collect the post. Well, no luck there.  Ashok and his wide were on a holiday in Mussoorie.

I walked up to the postman and conveyed this to him.

Shankar, the postman, grew a little grim. Wondering why, I asked him, “What’s the matter, Shankar?”

“It is a courier, sir. I was supposed to bring this 2 days back only but I was not able to. Now Mr. Ashok is not at home. If I take back the courier, I will have to answer a whole lot of questions from my boss.”

“Can’t you just tell your boss that Ashok wasn’t available?”, I enquired.

“I could do that, Sir. But as I said, this was supposed to be delivered 2 days back. I could lose my job if I tell my boss that I didn’t deliver it on time. That, sir, I cannot afford.”

“Well, Ashok and his wife are out of town since 2 days. So you can take it back, can’t you?”

“No, Sir. If I had brought it on time and had taken it back, I would have had to send it back to the main office by today. Post-office protocol. Now I can’t do that as it would show today’s time stamp in the logs”, Shankar explained with a worried look.

Seeing his plight, I offered to collect the courier on Ashok’s behalf. I was sure Ashok wouldn’t mind. There was immediate relief on Shankar’s face as he tapped my shoulder and said “Thank you Sir. But please don’t open it.”

A good deed done for the day, I thought as I walked back home. I kept the envelope on the dining table and soon got busy with other things, cleaning my bedroom and doing the laundry.

Couple of hours later, I walked into the living room and plonked myself on the sofa with a huge sigh. Ah, that was tiring. It felt good to rest on my favorite sofa.

I switched on the TV and was swapping channels when Rusty ran in and jumped on to the sofa on which I was happily lazing about. My Doberman had something in his mouth and I reached across to take it out.

It was a white piece of paper. Just when I had removed it completely from Rusty’s mouth and reprimanded him for being naughty, I caught a familiar name on the paper.

Gosh, it was Ashok’s courier!

The battle against all odds

I just had a conversation with a good friend of mine. The conversation made me reminiscent of many things.

5 years ago, we both had joined the same company, fresh out of college. We hit it off instantly and there started our friendship. We shared many a good time, as room mates in Mysore and Pune. We both got transferred to Bangalore at a later point of time. We even quit the company at the same time!
And although we started to work in different companies, we stayed in touch over phone.

One evening, a year ago, my friend calls me up with some grave news.
He had been diagnosed with cancer.
I was shocked hearing the news. I couldn't believe it and urged him to take a second opinion. But it was confirmed. 
What was thought to be an injury from an accident was in fact a tumor in the thigh.
After the initial diagnosis, his sister and brother-in-law, both being doctors, whisked him away to Mumbai to consult with a leading doctor there. The doctor there too confirmed their worst fears. His family was aghast.
Even at that time, my friend consoled his family along with his sister, saying it was going to be alright, when it should have been the other way around.
It was just the beginning of a torrid time.
The doctors advised rigorous chemotherapy sessions to combat the cancer. My friend continued to stay in Mumbai, alone, away from home to undergo the treatment.

My friend is a true fighter. He did not disclose his condition to anyone, barring a few close friends, me being one. He did not want sympathy nor did he ask for money.
When you are down on the ground, the true friends are the ones who will offer their hand to help you up. My friend found this out the hard way. Few close friends who he thought would be beside him did not even turn up to visit him (including his girlfriend who left him once she got the news), while people who he didn't know all that well offered unconditional support. While his boss at work assured him that his job would be safe and sanctioned any number of leaves that he needed, our heart strings were tugged at and his eyes welled up when he mentioned some unknown strangers had come to donate blood to him for some platelets that was needed.
We were there for him, of course, should he need us for anything
 
Sanketh, my friend whom I have been referring to, came back to Bangalore to continue his treatment. His dad, sis and himself took loans to pay for the treatment. It was agonizing to get injected with the chemical medicine, that spread throughout the body. The tumor couldn't be operated and removed as there was a risk of relapse. The chemotherapy was the only effective treatment to ensure that all the cancer cells were killed.

Days went by. When I met him while he was being treated, he was a thin, frail version of his former self. An 85kg bulky bloke that he was, was rendered to a boy who looked like he had reached puberty. The chemo radiation had taken a massive toll on his body, all the hair on his body too dropping off (he recalled how the hair on his head just stuck on to the seat in the airplane he was traveling in en route to Bangalore!). He had lost the sense of taste and was just eating to fill a hungry stomach. And that too was only when he didn't throw up what he ate, the strong medicine making him nauseated. 

In all this time, he maintained a calm composure. He would still crack jokes, sometimes on himself. While he still felt hurt by the people who ditched him in his struggle, he was glad he still had his family and few friends alongside him.
In times of despair, your character comes to the fore. And Sanketh chose to fight.
And fight he did, a solid right hook to death. 

After a few months his condition improved. The cancer cells were all neutralized, even the ones that had spread to his lungs.  The last bit of tumor in his thigh was removed. Although he was under observation for few more days, he had the strength to move about. And what did he do once he was able to move around? He goes to Nandini, a restaurant in his neighborhood and heartily eats his favorite chicken dish and reports to work the very next day. Such was the resolute character. He was tired of sitting at home doing nothing. 

While we still laugh at a couple of poor sods who thought his condition was brought about by his drinking and smoking (smoking does increase your chances of cancer, mind you!) habits, we still look back at those trying times when he was more or less on his own, laughing at the cruel twist in tale that life had brought about. 

I will be meeting him this Tuesday again. After quite a long time. It would be great to catch up with him once more. I must mention a couple of close friends of mine at this juncture. Both of them are fighting bitter, traumatic divorce cases, both standing tall, although more or less alone in a truer sense in their fight. These folks are an inspiration, to me at least, to overcome any obstacle in life, with grit and valor and the same spirit.
To Sanketh and the two others, thank you for showing me You Can. I am glad to have you people as my friends.

So many questions, not so many answers...

I read a quote once. It went "There are only 2 important days in your life -  the day you were born and the day you discover why".
Thought provoking indeed.
Have you discovered why you were born?
I haven't.
I only know the day I was born.
What is my purpose in life?
Who do I intend to be?
What am I to become?
What is my role in the society?
What is my contribution to the world?

The mind is fickle. I want to do something today and something else tomorrow. 
What is my true aspiration?
I don't know and it frustrates me no end.
I want to change the world, get some radical brilliant idea that would revolutionize everything. 
But at the end of the day I am still sitting in my office cubicle, just losing time with no sense of purpose.
When you don't know the destination, the path is meaningless.
Many are content with a decent job that pays well (even if the job is mediocre), a home to return to and some idle pass-times.
But I want more.
I don't want just a mediocre job. The money, although very much necessary just doesn't cut it. 
I don't have peace of mind because I don't think I am doing enough. There is no satisfactions because I am not doing something I love.
What do I love doing then?
I love writing. I love coding. I love photography. I love many things.
What I don't know is what is stopping me from pursuing it full time. 
Maybe it is the money. Maybe it is the feeling that others are already established in the field that it is saturated and I don't bring in anything new.
Perhaps my perception itself is flawed. Perhaps I should just get on with it and see where it leads.
At least that would be a start.
There are so many questions, no answers.
Yet.