Diary entry blog

Dear Diary,

You know I’ve hated Diary entries, especially when it used to come as 10 marks question in Section B of English in class X. But somehow, I felt you must be remembered in the times of lost blogs and tweeple people.  It would also serve to write something understandable for the benefit of anonymous commenter, who asked me to do so over maggi after my last blog.

Other than the fact that I got your spelling mixed with the milk products and that I never used to get you in the same year, I’ve never thought much of you. Probably cos thanks to all the chic flicks, diary is seen girly! Yes, I have wondered why would people blabber a lot of personal things to you. I guess It is much easier to get you to listen to one’s life story than another human being (unless you are Rakhi Sawant, in which case you get high TRP). I must tell you, some of the professors, do their life story in class holding us hostage!

After computers and laptops, lot of people have stopped writing in the conventional sense.  Of course there are blogs, lengthy emails to dear ones, facebook notes and of course personal MS Word and MS Onenote. But the train of thoughts seem to go to the exhibitionist Shatabdi express (flowery words and high end) than the regular trains. Atleast for me this is true. I can’t make the good old grammatical mistakes without someone pointing it out.

Inspired by the books I read before I came to IIM, I thought I would write a book on my life at IIM that would serve as a guiding light for future people (roflmao). Well now, If I do write, it will be categorised under thriller genre (with a 18+ rating, if it can exist) with flying swear words, over the head lectures, politics, deception, scandals and not to forget mind numbing PJs! (I was just trying a movie voice over – it’s actually awesome) So much for my writing dreams!

Enough of me and writing, lets talk about you. The consultant in me (note the professional air), believes that you should reinvent yourself. The embossed leather covers are pretty much out-dated in the times of iPads and Palmtops.  I saw a pretty cool evolution of your species launched by happily unmarried (cool place.. TIC stuff). To be honest that was the reason I thought I should write a diary entry.  

I just imagined Barkha Dutt, Vir Sanghvi, Raja et all having diary entries that are exposed! I’m sure they have a lot of dear diary moments!

Anyways, I don’t think I will run out of people who I can bug. So I will just remember you this once. Welcome to the world of blogs.

Adios,

Me

You’d rather not be wearing..

Although it can be completed in a 100 ways and at least 70 of them would raise a few eyebrows, I’m happy writing about the remaining 30. Each paragraph has no direct relevance to the next.

Last 2 months, I’ve learnt a lot. The most important lesson being - how to shoot at someone who outdrew you. No learnt would be wrong cos then it would mean I would be able to do it.  Probably it’s the effect of philosophical classes or the cynicism that loads of bullshit can give you, I never felt it was worth the public medium. But then public medium – the new age weapon for love and war and everything in between.

I remember a conversation some years back on selflessness and greater good. At that point of time, I assumed the characters in mega serials my mom watches, are extremely unreal. My point then was, there was a basic goodness in people and hence selflessness is an attribute possible. Though it was disproved within the next 6 months, I refused to change my premise. I changed my premise.

To the Ravana camp, the monkeys were vandals and Ram the enemy. I try to convince myself that I like challenges and that I’m basically good. I’m convinced and so are some. But perceptions, you can’t be accountable. I, till date can’t smile at a person who I am not comfortable with! So much for two faced!

Being opinionated is like wetting your bed. You demand your ideas be debated not dismissed, howsoever irritated you are. Well, you can cry all you want, but you are still gonna have a wet bottom if someone doesn’t change.

You need to quash a bug when its still crawling around. Let it grow and you would not be able to stop it from biting your back. Endurance is not a characteristic but a lack of option.

I remember reading in class XI the lesson called “Olympic Gold” from the autobiography of Ali. (if anyone can find a e-book of it, I would be grateful). The line I recalled was ‘It felt like being at the receiving end of a 100 punches without returning a single one’. I somehow wondered how it would be. I shouldn’t have. It feels like this blog.

To complete my sentence – “You’d rather not be wearing your emotions on your sleeve”

Of Meetings And My Scripted Life

I hate long days with meetings. I always have, even as an insignificant engineer giving updates to bored managers. I wondered if my hatred had anything to do with the fact that I could have done something more productive that time. When I shared this with my colleague in office, I couldn’t get her to stop laughing! (In my defence, Calvin & Hobbes gave perspective!!) Unfortunately a management course with added responsibilities have made me grudgingly admit that meetings are a necessary evil.

Of course my opinion on meetings was not the same always. I remember vividly my first client meeting in my first job.

Engineering Internship , evening 4.30pm

R: Girish, we’ll be having a teleconf meeting with client . You will attend?

Me: YES! [wow! Meeting, I’ve always wanted to be in a meeting. I’ll kick the crap out of the teleconference] YES! [not so eager also] I mean, sure whats there.. I think I can make some time (sheepish grin)

R: (Weird look)

Meeting

Me: [Wow! I’m in a meeting.. That guy must think I’m someone important – I mean trainee, yes, but someone who is invited to the meeting.. This is so cool.. Wait till I see the expression of L when I tell.. Must make a note not to tell all the details.. Confidentiality clause and all.. He he, big words, corporate.. I am sure the guy is gonna say there’s this awesome trainee on the other end who’s real kick ass.. He he.. Maybe he would think R is ineffective and he’d ask to have all further meeting with me.. Poor R.. Has a family too..]

R: Girish, You just put whatever we discussed in a document and mail it across to me.

Me: (Shock) Pardon? The meeting is done in 15 mins? What exactly did he want?

R: (surprised) What do you mean?! You were nodding your head all through! Trainees!!

Ever since, its been a steep learning curve that I surprisingly got it right! 2 years and I’ve always managed to nod my head at the right time always. Lessons such as these (and my preconceived idea of wanting to write about it) made me wonder if life actually is a planned out script for a series.

Come to think of it, soaps are ruled out, they can’t be the script. Soaps have characters whose morals are clearly either black or white or full of sterotypes. Real life is much more interesting when it comes to the type of people you encounter. I guess sitcoms capture them the best. Be it the weird characters you encounter, admit it -they are all around us, or the moments of sweet irony that you wait for the ‘ta-da-da-da-da-da’ in the background.

It does have its advantages in making you realize some truths that you can be prepared for

a) The equation between the people is going to keep changing. The characters might be the same, but as the ‘seasons’ go by they keep trying to fall in and out of zone of comfort.

b) People who leave make guest appearances in later seasons often causing lots of confusion. (Contrast with soaps where the dead people comeback!)

c) All your characters have shades of grey including the protagonist – you. This necessarily helps the script move forward.

d) Sometimes you forget the right words but you manage. Rehearsals rarely happen and there ain’t a chance for retakes

e) The moral conflicts of the protagonist usually lead to hilarious moments. Of course not all are laughing.

It feels warm to think things in life are actually scripted towards a happy ending. As Khaled Hosseini says in Kite Runner, is there something called a happy ending in life? Every episode, every phase just moves the story forward giving you cue cards to emote. Relish, Learn and Move on.

After that thoughtful pause, I thought I’d close with a typical incident in my scripted life.

In the Flight from Kolkata to Hyderabad which had a total of 10 passengers.

Air Hostess: Sir, would you mind sitting in the seat over the wings? It is a safety precaution.

Me: huh?? safetyyyy? hmmmm sure, I guess..

AH: Sir, I need to explain to you the emergency procedure for opening the door.. .. keep looking out the window during take off and landing for fire.. 

Me: (nodding the head all the while) Ah.. Is that what they call “flight risk”? (grin)

AH: (blank state.. walks away muttering something under her breath)

Me: [Emergency! Did she say emergency? Oh God! What if.. FIRE!?? She said fire. Wow, this is exciting and scary.. This is something I’m prepared for.. I’ve been prepared for such a situation right from UKG when the English teacher made me monitor.. I’ve just got to pull.. but what if the handle won’t drop down.. God, I should have gone to the gym more regularly.. Maybe to reduce a bit of flab too.. Hey, the plane has started taxiing.. Ok, outside the window.. hey, the metal part on the wing is moving, should I ask the air hostess to check? It seems like the wings are shaking, I bet the planes are made in China.. Just pull.. deep breath.. pull………………………………………………]

AH: Sir, Sir.. Hope you had a pleasant flight. We’ve landed in Hyderabad.

Me: I Slept!?!

Knot my cup of coffee

After the pox kind of ‘chickened’ out and the PGP decided to try their luck in killing me with the class schedule, only now could I come up with a title punny enough to make me write. Well, that and the fact that few of my friends got engaged/married/committed recently. In addition to that I want huge quantities of coffee (that would increase the PAT of Nestle’s Nescafe division) to help me survive the week ahead!

Ever since I saw Raavan, I have been toying with the idea of marriage as an extension of Stockholm Syndrome. No, I’m not exactly someone who goes around cracking marriage jokes or make fun of louuu but the idea kind of seemed to hold some appeal. When 2 of my good friends got engaged (not married), I asked what changed now? And for some reason the response was something like there’s no going back now! In the Indian value system (not picked up from TMI, will talk later) the marriage is taken seriously and for all optimism that goes with it, it is a lifelong contract. You break out of marriage and unlike the US where your status is “available-again” (Hey Angelina Jolie and Bradd Pitt might be available soon!) the Indian society tags you with a “divorcee”. Now here I need to make it clear, I’m not thinking too pessimistically :)

So, thinking a bit more objectively and trying to follow the value system, you want to be ‘sure’ that the person you want to spend the rest of your life with is someone whom you are not gonna have a problem with for not retuning a couple of calls or for forgetting to get the milk in the morning! How do you test that? Isn’t it more a, I know too geeky, but a function of time? Relationships evolve with situations, what the OB guys call critical incidents. So a guy might remember the days his wife went late to her office to accommodate his board meetings and a wife might remember the early morning bed coffees he used to so lovingly make. They also evolve with bad things, like the time the guy cracked a mother-in-law joke with his peers or the lady cribbed how the guy never bothered about if the house is clean. But come-on, even the fin guys out here couldn’t anticipate events in future and based on their best guess prepare ‘pro-forma’ sheets! So in their language, the terminal growth rate is actually the after marriage love :P

So, given the risks involved, your arranged marriage seems more of a risk than your love marriage ain’t it? Actually, I agree am no expert, but the love marriage kind of cuts down the time to ‘court’, the fun part of finding out stuff about your parent’s recommendation that is the most colourful part. Again, u like it or not, the cycle sets in of making adjustments given the terms of the contract. And hence is born a ‘love’ so different from the love before marriage.

I feel a bit old talking about marriage, but then guys my age are actually getting married! For the female friends of mine, whose families should be sent to capture Dawood, given their search expertise, wish they have the most fun in the courting part :) As for me, it depends on the time like 4 years from now and the people in my life then.

Coming to the coffee part of it. Although I can connect this to my previous topic, I won’t. After I wrote about GJC, readers of my blog (yes, u 6 :P) have kind of come to the conclusion I’m an addict. Strangely, I’m like a camel when it comes to coffee. (no, I do not store it in my hump) I can go without coffee for days together (months together when I had a bet), if I can’t get a good coffee! For all the guys and girls who are giggling at the statements, I mean the one made with caffeine.

Thanks to a schedule that runs from 9 to 8 every day followed by cases and articles to read, coffee has been a lifeline more than a fad. The only solace has been the TMI (Technology Management and Innovation) course that has almost got the entire batch scurrying to read the articles so they can participate in the class discussions (not DP). I’ve run out of superlatives to describe the course and the discussions on twitter. And its not just me.

In some ways, the sickness, recovery and more sickness kinda situations have made me kind of numb to expectations from people – both ways. But then I never gave a damn most times anyway. And so here’s wishing myself luck to the world of coffee, marriage and cynicism (hopefully in that order) :P

Chicken Soup for the Veggie Soul

I feel like James Bond. Undercover, having things shaken not stirred and women checking me out and saying “Hot”! And the rest of the story is the other dialogues that go with it like, “You need another blanket?”, “How many times have you had that syrup?” and “Shit, he needs another paracetamol!” As i manage to sit up after 2 days with my laptop open, I think a brief update is in order.

I’ve been struck by the cowardly disease that sounds like socks (thank God it doensn’t smell like) and it couldn’t have chosen a wrong timing. Fifa worldcup finals! Knowing the Fucchas! My 24th birthday! Work (ahem)! For all those of you who are doing an “awwwwww”- its ok people, shit happens. I’ll clarify at my own pace. As i always say, its a matter of perspective :)

Ever since I read the Christmas Carol in class XI (awesome English book for CBSE), I had until recently, the image of some ghost (A bearded ghost with a tuxedo) showing me clips from my past, my present and future. Until recently was cos, recently i saw the movie Ghost of Girlfriends Past and it gave new fears :P Anyways, as the doctor wrote down “to be kept in isolation” after confirming my fear , i couldn’t help recall the images painted by ghosts of Christmas future and was rethinking a few of my I-don’t-give-a-damn outbursts.

Shillong is a small and beautiful place. And i’ve been given a room in our institute guest house with a beautiful view and it seems almost like a resort. Well almost is true, cos I haven’t done much but sleep or stare out the window or raise fuss – much more like an asylum, while the Hellboy signs show up and bringing down the standard of my PJs. (for those of you who want to clear their throats at this point, a nice warm hug from me!)

I can’t believe the westerners call India, the land of superstitions, when the entire attention before every match of the FIFA WC is on an octa pedal squishy thingy that has no clue about football. Seriously if squids were to play football they’ll be yellow carded for fouls on themselves! And yet, it has been accurate so far in this WC. My heart broke to see the Germans go down to an out of form Spain. Or thats probably the reason why i couldn’t see the match! With sucky streaming and the effect of the dosage, while Spain slowly eroded Germany, I was sleeping my way to glory. Now that Germans have squashed Uruguay, I know i want Spain to win the trophy, but that match according to me befit the final.

As for my 24th birthday, ppl had trouble believing it was my 24th, it was made better thanks to the stream of calls and teaser party at 12 by the awesome 66. Of course my fairy tale memories for the day seem more like pages out of Sleeping beauty, snow white and whichever tale that involves sleeping. (My parents thought Panchatantra made more sense for me and so i had to catch the others a bit later on Zee! Does anyone remember the Zee or Jain TV’s tales from across the globe?) Small highs and state on unconsciousness made the lows seem far away. Oh a special mention of the toast i got from the chocolate boy of Awesome 66. Without the adjectives used – my blog, my pjs and the earlier said i-don’t-give-a-damn outbursts were mentioned and i was gloating :D

Since my blogs are already pretty long, here’s me cutting it short by mentioning some of the people who are integral to me striding through. Firstly my guardian angels – Sreethala and Priyanka – Thank God they got it before me. Followed by Samita, Sai Garu, Veena, Abha and Esha who think it is better to share updates, gossips and cruel judgements about people here in the ‘isolation’ place than in a party full of people :) A generic thanks to the Awesome 66 and my profs for the best wishes. As i have said before, I consider myself lucky.

Here’s me saying “te deseo lo mejor” to Spain. (courtesy: the Spanish Dictionary)