MISSING SOMEONE...

"Dei ******, I'm scared if we'll if we'll stay this way forever da, as best friends. I'm scared if something would separate us."

"Don't worry ****, nothing like that would happen. Now sleep, it's 2 in the morning."

How wrong I was. The days we were together, without a care for the world, always a smile dancing on our lips, a twinkle in our eyes, standing up for each other at all times. I could almost say everyone around us was envious of our friendship. Many of them even revealed traces of their envy. We didn't care, we were reckless juveniles carting through cloud nine.

I still remember those days, when our friendship was at its blooming best. The number of days he had stayed back at the lab with me, just because I wanted to complete some program we needed to submit the following week. The instances he came along with me on boring journeys just because I'd feel lonely, the way he used to tease me about -, well, that's another issue altogether, the way he used to tease me, it's all etched in my memory. And I don't think it'll be erased anytime soon. The time when he was down with fever and couldn't eat normal food, I still recollect the way I rocketed down three flights of stairs taking four steps at a time, to get him a loaf of bread and a jug of warm milk. And I don't think he knows it, but I stayed awake that whole night, watching over him. It was all so natural, we were extremely attached to each other. The nights before the semester exams when he'd declare in dismay that he was definitely going to fail the exams. I'd sit with him and we'd study together, boosting up his confidence. It just came, no one asked us to be that way, it was something along the lines of Damon and Pythias or Achilles and Patrocles or -, cut it, like those fellows.

If you ask me how Fate can screw you till you're in deep shit, I'd show you our friendship. Over a period of one year, I don't know what happened, it could have been development of other outlets, it could have been because we couldn't spend as much time together as we did, it could have been because both of us were too consumed by our ego to confront the other and talk it out, it could have been due to a hundred other reasons I can quote, but fact remains that we're not the same anymore. I don't say I'm not happy, I have friends who care for me and keep me going. The same applies to him too. Still, it feels like a part of me is missing, like how a person who has recently had his arm amputated feels for his hand involuntarily and realizes with a pang of shock mixed with sorrow that it is not there. It feels like a vital organ of mine has been removed. In all other aspects of life, I'm on top of the world, and I've got every reason to feel so, having almost got to undergraduate college with a good academic record and having made great friends in college. Yet when I try to tell myself that I feel on top of the world, a nagging voice inside me mocks at me, "Try saying that again". I know I can't. In reality, I don't give feel on top of the world. It's like being the richest man on earth with all possible avenues for pleasure, yet cursed with paralysis, unable to enjoy anything. Some part is gone, something you sorely miss.

I almost feel that the secret desire of some people has been fulfilled. We were that enviable, almost to the extent of being arrogant that nothing would or rather, could separate us. Ironically, it's Fate's way of reminding you "Man proposes, God kicks him on his backside".

Revelations...

One fine morn, I was walking through a grassy path when I saw a bright red stone. It impressed me at the first sight. Without a doubt that it was a valuable gem, I picked it up and put it carefully in my pocket. A few days later, I was going through the same path again. This time, I saw a piece of rock lying there. Something told me that I should pick it up and take it with me. I obliged and picked it up, and put it in my pocket, not giving it another thought for weeks. Meanwhile the red stone which I had found earlier had most of my attention. I placed it in the showcase and boasted all about it to friends, neighbors and anyone who cared to listen. All this time, the little piece of rock sat in a corner in my cupboard, confined to the dark, unnoticed by anyone. Months passed on this way, the red stone lived in my showcase, and the rock stayed in my cupboard. Ironically, even if I missed the red stone, I couldn't help looking at the rock that was in my cupboard. Every time I opened my cupboard, I felt it smiling at me, as though we held an unspoken relationship. I acknowledged the rock, still treasured the red stone in my showcase. The rock continued to keep me company from within my cupboard while the red stone sniffed haughtily when I turned towards it. Slowly I found that in spite of my will, the rock grew closer to me, and the red stone continued to grace me with its indifference. A couple of years went by this way, and ironically, I felt that I could spend an entire week without looking at the red stone, but I needed to see my little piece of rock every day. The memories of the thoughts we had silently shared together had become priceless and dear to me. It culminated to a point where I began taking the rock along with me in my pocket, unwilling to part from it. The red stone still stayed in the showcase, a souvenir of my trip to the forest. One day, a friend of mine, a gem expert, visited my place, and looking at the red stone started laughing. I was puzzled, once could appreciate the stone, one could admire it, but laugh, I couldn't even contemplate the reason. I waited till he calmed down, then asked him the reason for this sudden burst. He told me that such red stones were commonly found in that forest and though they looked like rubies, they were worthless. Many people had been fooled before and I was one more added to the list. That had been the reason for his laughter. I was, at first shocked, then angry, then embarrassed at my stupidity. I had fallen for it. Still a bit sore owing to my hurt ego, I managed to walk over to the showcase, removed the red stone and dropped it into the trash can. Incidentally, as I bent over to drop the red stone, the little piece of rock in my pocket rolled out on to the floor. I picked it up and as I was putting it in my pocket, my friend snatched at my hand, holding it firmly. I was puzzled once again, wondering what in God's name my friend was trying to do. He asked me where I found my little rock. I told him the entire story, how I found it, and had kept it in my cupboard for two years, before taking it out. He seemed flabbergasted hearing my tale, and asked me, in quite a vehement tone, if I had ever bothered to wipe it clean with a piece of cloth. True, it had never occurred to me, I hadn't bothered to. He then extracted his pocket toolkit and took out a piece of sponge from it. After carefully rubbing the edges of the rock with the sponge, he let out an exclamation. I had decided by then that this was a day of surprises for me. So I asked him once again what his expression was attributed to. He told me calmly that the rock I had carried carelessly with me in my pocket all these days was a Burmese red ruby, a gemstone worth about two million US dollars. Naturally I was stunned by this revelation. It took me a moment to regain my composure. Once I returned to my senses, he handed me back the stone and told me that these rubies were extremely rare, and only 4 such rubies have ever been found. I was holding a fifth ruby, fifth in the whole world. I then realized the full value of my 'little piece of rock'. No wonder I had felt that feeling of closeness when I first saw it lying on the grassy path. It was destined to be mine. I decided that it would be. I would never part with it. It would be with me till the day I lived, my 'little piece of rock'. Appearances are indeed, deceptive.

The Wall Crumbling??? Who should take over the reins?

What a dramatic decision by Rahul Dravid, to give up the post of the captain of the Indian Cricket team... I mean, it was only 3 months back, during the world cup, that most experts felt it was time for Dravid to step down as captain, still the Wall stood firm, ignoring criticism... now all the cynics have turned their attention to other stuff, and Mr. Dependable makes an entry onto the front page by announcing his retirement as captain... The reason, Dravid says that the Indian public and media are so reactive to loss, that two or three bad matches provoke an extreme reaction towards the team... Such a scenario makes the chances of improvement very difficult... Further, Dravid feels that the pressure of captaincy has at last got to his nerves... His own game has deteriorated over the past few months... In view of this, he feels it's time to hand over the reins to one of his colleagues and concentrate on his personal game...

The next big issue is, who's going to don the captain's cap now? There are three possible choices... The first option would be Sachin Tendulkar... This maestro is undoubtedly the legend of Indian cricket... he has been the captain of India in the past, but unfortunately captaincy hasn't favored him much... he isn't considered a successful captain... still he has got the experience and the caliber to lead the team...

The next choice would be the former Indian captain, Sourav Ganguly... Having made a comeback into the Indian team, Ganguly has not looked back ever since... Even when all other players have failed, Ganguly has held his ground and continued his blitzkrieg, a reminder to the critics that he hasn't given it up yet... 'Dada' as he is fondly called has been a successful captain in the past, his brave decisions paying off... people still remember the match versus South Africa where they needed 8 runs off the last over, with Klusener at his blasting best... Ganguly coolly tossed the ball over to Sehwag for the last over... To the dismay of the African crowd, Klusener was standing helpless, unable to score off Sehwag's slow flighted deliveries, and India won the match... Such is the tenacity of our 'Dada'...

Another choice would be the latest sensation of the Indian team, Mahendra Singh Dhoni... he was the vice captain of the team that won the under-19 World Cup a few years back... he is currently the captain of the Indian team in the Twenty20 series... he is a possible option for being the captain, though experience would count against him...

Personally, I feel that the captaincy should be given back to 'Dada' Ganguly... his record as captain has been extremely good, before he was unceremoniously stripped off his captaincy and his place in the team, under the pretext of being psychologically unstable... Ganguly has a cool head and the knack of making daring decisions that more often than not, pay off... moreover, Sachin's personal game suffered greatly during his captaincy and that is too big a gamble to take again... Dhoni doesn't have the international experience to become a captain right now, though he is a promising prospect for the future... Under the current circumstances, it would be the perfect role for Ganguly to don the mantle and take over the reins as the Indian captain... yet again...

TOUCHING...

I found this poem in a community in orkut... i liked it, so i thought i would put it up here... by the way, it was written by someone under the pen name, Enigma...

The day begins afresh, bright and new,
Welcoming the event in its surreal dawn
The Angel known fully to the selected few,
Turns an year older, counting the day she was born

Dressed in silks of pearl white,
She steps daintily into the hall
Her eyes glowing with pride, so bright,
Stealing the attention of one and all

Behind the shadows stays a poor young man,
Praised by his fellowmen, and cursed by Fate
By his love for the dame, an ardent fan
A bouquet rests in his hand, for his soul mate

Great men step forward to present their gifts,
He waits till the end, patience, he has a lot
Kneeling before her, head bowed, the wreath he lifts,
Will she grace his love or not?

- Enigma

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever"
- Keats

This is one of my favorite one liners... true, a beautiful thing cheers you up, no matter what it is... it might be a flower, a baby, a poem, a game even a joke... I'm sure everyone will agree to this... now comes the tougher part of it... please define beauty for me... yeah, right, I ask you a question, What is beauty? What is your perception of beauty, in other words, what appears beautiful to you? The answer to this question is a very complex one, and changes with each individual...

if i ask kshitij (the jester of the group), the likely answer would be "a hot chick is beautiful da machan"... hmm, it could be so... that's his opinion... if hot chicks cheer him up (no offense blingy, just an example), hot chicks are indeed beautiful to him...

next, let's ask prabu, the eternal pain (lol, my nickname for him, apart from sadist, necrolyte and a lot of others I'd rather not mention here, lest i get diverted)... prabu's view of beauty could be a magnum sniper rifle, it's long and slender barrel glinting in the sunlight... yeah, that sounds convincing, an AWP (magnum sniper rifle) can definitely be a beautiful thing for prabu...

aren't the two answers we got totally unrelated, i mean, you can't compare a girl with a gun... atleast not in terms of beauty... still, that's what it is... there lies the complexity in this issue... i say, no one can define beauty in general terms... the closest approximation depends on the individual... one could say, "beauty is anything that gives joy"... I could always argue "The anxious look on a girl's face waiting for her loveris beautiful"... there's nothing joyful in that, still it's beauty... likewise, there could be many versions of beauty, each one completely different from the rest...

my opinion, i consider a lot of things beautiful... for one, i think wordsworth poems are beautiful, the vivid descriptions of nature and its subtle intricacies... then, counter strike is beautiful... i could stay tuned for about 23 hours a day without getting tired of it... some people i find beautiful... (I'm not mentioning anyone from class, I'd be screwed by the controversy) my math teacher from 5th std was beautiful ( I mean the way she taught, not the looks, btw she was 54yrs old when I was in my 5th)... and coming to the more subtle things, the babble of a newborn baby is beautiful, the smile of a child is beautiful, as i mentioned previously, the anxious look on the face of an expectant lover, the serene beauty of a forest at night, the calmness of the sea(in retrospection, the sea looks disgusting, after the Jan 12th event), the splatter of rain against the window panes, the glow on the faces of a newly wed couple, the bewildered look of a child as he/she first goes to school, all these are beautiful...

P.S: OMG, what a post... never thought I'd write about something as abstract as this... it came as a passing thought in class when i was musing in gayathri mam's hour(:P i'd rather not mention what I'm thinking right now)... and materialized at about 12.30 in the night, when I could find nothing better to do...

Books vs Experience

What's your choice? Are you the trademark nerd, preferring to stick to the books and stuff in knowledge till your brain can't hold more? Or are you the endeavoring daredevil, seeking pleasure in practicality, exploring new avenues and picking up pointers on your journey through life? Nothing wrong in choosing one, both have their pluses and minuses... Gimme a moment, I'll elaborate... Before that, let me make my stand clear... I'm maverick material, i prefer learning stuff by staying in the actual picture instead of visualizing an ethereal scenario...

Now, let's see what it would be like to have a discussion between two ardent supporters of their own choices, Mr. Bookworm and Mr. Maverick...

Narrator: Welcome, Gentlemen-
Maverick: Aww! Cut out the crap, get on with it...
Narrator: Well, go ahead guys, you know the issue...


[Scene Starts with Mr. Bookworm sitting upright in a chair, his blue shirt neatly tucked into the black formals, his glasses a touch askew, a sign that he'd been reading until moments before this meeting. In contrast, Mr. Maverick is sitting casually, in a t-shirt with the caption "FU" and a worn out jeans, his legs crossed at an angle, his eyes fleeting occasionally to the contemptuous figure before him]


Mr. Maverick: So, Mr. Bookworm, you think books are better than practical knowledge?

Mr. Bookworm: Of course Mr. Maverick, it is obvious. According to Newton-

Mr. Maverick: Aww, screw Newton, tell me what YOU think.

Mr. Bookworm: Er, I totally believe books are invaluable for gaining knowledge. It cannot be otherwise. [accompanied by an incredulous look]


Mr. Maverick: I must apologize I refuse to see your point. What is the use of books if you're going to spend all your life shut in a room reading them? Start the real thing man, come out of your cocoon.

Mr. Bookworm: Reading is essential to live. Otherwise you'd be overwhelmed by your surroundings.

Mr. Maverick: And what better way to live than to actually living it? You mean to say, you live and learn by reading instead of coming out and facing the real thing?

Mr. Bookworm: If you read, you'd be prepared to meet 'the real thing', whatever it may be.

Mr. Maverick: And when would that be? You'd be shunning away from it, under the pretext that you're 'preparing' for it.

Mr. Bookworm: That's preposterous.

Mr. Maverick: It is what it is.

Mr. Bookworm: OK, I'll ask you something. Imagine you don't know anything about swimming. You're pushed into a lake. What CAN you do? Instead, if you'd read about how to swim and float, you have a chance to survive. Can you counter that?

Mr. Maverick: You do have a point there.

Mr. Bookworm: Yes I do, and that's the reason I say books are better any day.

Mr. Maverick: I must oppose, life doesn't pre-plan everything for you. You can't expect to learn EVERYTHING. You must learn to adapt and survive, which you get only from experience. I mean to say, you have read about swimming, fine, but think you haven't read about fighting, and you're suddenly faced by a couple of goons. What would you do? Ask them for a moment to run to the nearest library?

Mr. Bookworm: Well, that would be a prudent thing to do, but-

Mr. Maverick: It would be, assuming those two goons are thick as trolls. In any normal scenario, you wouldn't stand a chance. You need experience , practical knowledge on how to tackle them. Even to run to your library, you need to come up with a convincing excuse, for which you need practical knowledge...there aren't many books labeled "1000 excuses for all occasions".

Mr. Bookworm: Yes, you're right on that one.

Mr. Maverick: Um, yeah, and there's another thing. You can gain a lot of street smartness from experience that isn't there in the books.

Mr. Bookworm: If you adhere to what's there in the books, you wouldn't need that street smartness in the first place.

Mr. Maverick: Probably, but what if something unexpected happens? Like the 'out of syllabus' stuff?

Mr. Bookworm: That would be a slight problem.

Mr. Maverick: Of course it would be.

Mr. Bookworm: Still, Mr. Maverick, I prefer to play safe... Knowledge from books is time tested and proved by great people.

Mr. Maverick: And how do you suppose those people came to know those things? By experience I must say... So again, experience prevails, my dear fellow...

Mr. Bookworm: Uh...

Mr. Maverick: Your bookish knowledge is like sitting in a camp reading about AKs and Uzis... Practical Knowledge is like being in the front, an AK in your hand. Books will help you little in such a situation-

Narrator: Excuse me , people, but we're running a bit late on this... If you could wind it up-

Mr. Maverick: Uh, OK [a touch of irritation in his voice, at being disturbed]

Mr. Maverick: So Mr. Bookworm, what do you say?

Mr. Bookworm: Uh, I must agree you're right about certain things.

Mr. Maverick: And you've got some good points too.

Narrator: So guys, I guess I'll sum up the discussion then... Knowledge from books is essential, but it's of little value without experience. I remember one saying in this context. It goes like this... "Knowledge is like a boat, Experience is like the sea. You can go to the sea without a boat, but a boat is of no use without the sea"

Of screwdrivers and scratches...

What happens when things get beyond you? How would you react if everything around you seems to be collapsing upon you? What would you do if faced if things over which you have no control over engulfed you? How would it feel to be alone in this world, with not a soul to care for you? What would be your answer to life's toughest questions? How would it be if a person you loved deeply and cared for intensely started accusing you and getting upset because of something you did for his/her good? If all the above mentioned happens at a time you're already finding it difficult to get along, it'd push you over the edge...

Sometimes, you feel life's not worth all the tension and care you give it, things just go they way they are destined to be... But you can't just leave it at that... You tend to try to modify situations to suit you and if that doesn't work, you get desperate... Take an instance, where you try to convince someone about something for a period of six to eight months... The period is trying for both of you, but deep down within your heart, you're convinced that what you say is for the welfare of both of you... For six months, you try to explain the matter to the other person, while trying to convince him/her about the consequences... When that person has a different perspective on the issue, it gets a bit tough... Emotions are stretched and a sort of rift develops... The extremity of this leads to unprecedented accusations and unpleasant feelings... What CAN you do? You're helpless, desperate and filled with anguish... That is when you get hold of a screw driver and start working on your hand, trying to etch something drastical on the inner part of your forearm... It ends up as a collage of bloody marks, each one a memoir of the incident...