Monday, September 20, 2010

Little World

It's a path towards the glowing glory
On trees beside bird chirp this story
Waving leaves and blooming flowers
All are set to sing... It's our little world, a little little world
With you and me, together we see
A shining rainbow set us free
Our little world, a little little world
With you and me, together we see
A shining rainbow set us free

And here we go, we are the owner
We own this world with pride and honor
Soothing cotton or burning thorn
We are here to face... In our little world, our own little world
With some happiness, and some pain
We are tied up in this caring chain
Our little world, our own little world
With some happiness, and some pain
We are tied up in this caring chain

Friday, July 2, 2010

The Sunday whine

Sometimes in life, we end up doing things that we never ever think of doing even in our wildest dreams. It is just a spark at the right time, which flash and then disappear in the world of random rays that scramble our thoughts.

I am not an atheist, yet I seldom visited any temple or holy place. My Karate and Kalari (a kind of martial arts practiced in Southern India) classes always took a priority over my temple visits. Marriage is a major turning point in any girl’s life (and so is the case for boys as well I guess), and it did not generate any exception in my case. I got married to Sampath last year, a very humble and down to earth person. Sampath has a strong belief in Lord Krishna and attends Hari Naama Keerthanas regularly. Staying in a sub-urb near Chicago did not create an obstacle from following his routine since we have a pretty good group of Lord Krishna devotees here. I do accompany him and have started enjoying it. Now I am not only a regular devotee you see in temples, but I also do work as a volunteer in temples.

This Sunday was not very different. I and Sampath got ready by 5 am and drove to the nearby lake shore to join the devotees. The bhajan went on for hours and everyone around me was engrossed in devotion. It’s not that I do not show interest or lack concentration during the prayers, but I have a habit of watching the nature (and people of course) around me as I pray the Lord to build harmony. All devotees were in Indian wear, mostly in saffron and I could see the pretty Americans dancing around us for our bhajans in their swim wear. It was an awesome sight to watch! As the sun started rising over us, we marched towards the temple.

I mostly volunteer for the kitchen services in the temple and this time I was assigned to take off the seeds from jalapenos by slitting it in the middle, to prepare a kind of fry which would resemble the bajji. I was very happy about this simple task and bare hand I continued with my task, happily chatting with my co-volunteers. By mid-day, the food was ready and was offered to Lord. I and Sampath had our lunch and returned home.

Throughout the way, there was a kind of irritation in my fingers which later spread throughout the palm. The jalapenos seeds had its effect on my soft hands but I rarely noticed. Sampath had to meet one of his friends and he left after dropping me home. I was very tired to do anything and thought of lying on the couch doing nothing.

We discover lot of things when we decide to do nothing and I discovered that the irritation in my palm turning to irresistible burning sensation. Before I could realize what is happening, my foot rushed for the freezer and I started collecting the ice cubes in a tumbler. I dipped both my hands in the ice cubes. Felt relieved for a moment but immediately I felt my hands are cracking out and I uttered Lords name genuinely with a purpose for the first time in the day.

“This is not gonna help me”, I cried. I remembered my mother applying coconut oil when I had burnt my finger. I wiped my hands and rushed to apply coconut oil, but it did not help. “Coconut oil works in India, not here. Try Olive oil” my 6th, 7th and 8th sense told me. Within no time I was pumping out the olive oil and rubbing it rigorously on my hands. I felt my senses are dead, I could only sense the burning on my hand.

“Use technology… use technology”, this time it was my heart. I always follow my heart and so I responded “What technology? What technology?” “Oh dumb girl!! Use your laptop, internet and google… google… google…” there was a kind of echo in my heart. My hands were playing bharathanatyam without my knowledge as I rushed to my laptop.

As I googled ‘Jalapenos burning hand’, I learnt that there were many people who had suffered similar kind of burning. I was happy to read that though I have no clue why people feel relieved and happy learning others suffering. Probably it gives us an illusion of having a company with similar or worse experiences. “Rub salt crystals all over the Jalapeno pepper hands. Salt acts as a scrub against the jalapenos pepper oil”. I ran to the kitchen and was back with salt in my hand.

Salt scrub did not help either. This was followed by scrubbing with sugar and lemon juice. My hands were smelling lemonade now, but it was not as relieving as drinking the lemonade. There was a big list of suggestion lying out there on the site – baking soda, milk, sunburn gel, first aid burn spray, calamine lotion, hand lotion and the list went on. I lost all energy and was very tired to try anything more. But jalapeno pepper burning increased with the entire ingredient I added to it.

“Try brandy. It worked for me and will surely work for you”, I saw a post from a lady. This was the only statement which I felt was written with confidence and right experience. “I am going to try this last solution and if it does not work, I will give up”, I thought.

Brandy… now where will I get this? Sampath never drinks and neither do I. I do not know any friends in neighborhood who drink. One who drinks is around 25 miles away from my home and I cannot drive all over there. I thought of calling Sampath, but did not feel like disturbing him when he was having his personal time out with his friends. ‘Oh Lord! I am such a wonderful person from heart. I never ever troubled my husband. Neither did I use my Karate and Kalari skills on him. Then why am I punished? Is it for looking around the nature as I pray for harmony? I vow not to divert my attention towards the Americans dancing in swim suits when I do the bhajans. Please get me out of this!!’ But it was too late.

‘Dominicks’, I remembered. Yes, I can go to Dominicks, search for a low price Brandy all by myself and do a self checkout on my own. I can never do this in India. I cannot think of a middle class orthodox family lady going to a store to get Brandy. The sight of the people watching you buy it and the murmers will burn you more than the jalapeno pepper. Moreover, if any of your friend or relative see you buying brandy, the burning sensation may last for your lifetime. Lucky me, I have no relatives here and all my friends are like me.

I did not bother to change my outfit and drove to the nearby Dominicks and scanned for a low price Brandy. I did not want to take anybody’s help. I did not want people to spread rumor about an Indian lady in saffron clothes and tilak buying brandy. But selecting a brandy is not a simple job. There were many brands. Each of these brands could have its own positive traits that a connoisseur of brandy would appreciate. But I do not think anyone would have made a point to suggest which one is good for jalapeno pepper burn. Alas, I found one pear shaped brandy bottle for $16 – cheapest among the list.

Making sure no one is seeing me picking a brandy bottle, I slowly placed it in my cart. The burning sensation was killing me by now and I wanted to get out of this as soon as possible. But when things have to go wrong, they go wrong no matter what you do. I could not expect anything better when the barcode on the brandy bottle was not recognized by the self checkout counter. I chose self checkout to hide from the obtrusive eyes but now I could not help myself but calling for help. Two huge stout fellows came to my help and one of them turned out to be an Indian. I tried to keep a blank expressionless face and tried to be cool and calm. But somehow I started feeling my own heart beat. The two stout men did some magic and finally my brandy was billed.

I drove back home with my hands still playing bharathanatyam and piano at the same time. I poured the brandy in two big tumblers and dipped my hand in it. I could feel the heaven. The magical powers of brandy soothe my hands. It was worth the effort, pain and money of course. Taking the hands off the brandy regained the burning sensation and so I had to keep my hand dipped in brandy for the rest of the day. By night, the burning sensation had disappeared.

I shared my Sunday whine to my friends. They were not very happy with what I did. “Dipping the hand in brandy do no good” they said, “you could have overcome the pain in just 5 minutes by drinking it”. Well… you cannot expect more from friends, but after reading this story I believe you know how to overcome the jalapeño pepper burn. If you are still thinking it is the brandy then no, it is not the brandy. It is wearing the gloves while you work with jalapeno peppers.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

‘Why would you like to work for our company?’

This is one of the most FAQ (Frequently Asked Question). Every candidate is well prepared for this question and the interviewer is also well aware of this. For every company, there is a most FAA (Frequently Answered Answer) available for this FAQ and the interviewer will just update his FAA database while interviewing each candidate.

‘This is my dream company…’ this is how most of the candidates start the answer with. Then they will slowly talk about the values built by the company and the inspiring thoughts of the founder and/or the CEO of the company. I sometimes wonder if this is what actually a person look forward to join a company. Some people tend to give frank reply by saying that they are here to enhance their professional growth. The interviewer has to accept it anyway and cannot deny it, no matter how bad the company policies are to hinder the professional growth of an employee. Few go one step ahead and mention they have read a lot about the company, its growth and involvement in the local community. In fact, all they would know about the company is the google search results that would have come up the night prior to interview. All said, this is what I had done for my interview and I believe it is the same case for most of you out there too.

Have you ever wondered why would the interviewer ask this most FAQ even after knowing the FAA? This is because there are few special people out there – not as dull and dumb as you or me, who have some really fascinating answers which can drive you crazy.

It was the Tata Consultancy Services interview board for Campus interview in one of the famous college in South India. There were around 100 candidates shortlisted for the HR round. Sheethal had taken the interview of couple of candidates. She had a list of candidates highlighted in the shortlisted names who were already placed in some other campus interviews. She was told that these candidates were just trying out their luck in different companies and probability of they joining the company is just 50% since they already have an offer in hand.

Sheethal did not want to lose any slots by selecting a candidate who was not willing to accept the offer. So she just chatted with such candidates for some 10 minutes or for max 15 minutes if the candidate was interesting enough. With all these candidates, she did make a point to update her FAA database.

The next candidate knocked the door and entered the interview panel. He was wearing a light blue shirt, black trousers with navy blue tie that get along well with the shirt. He was wearing rectangular black frame spectacles, with a pencil beard outlining his cheeks. Sheethal impressed with his attire, signaled him to get in.
“Good afternoon madam! I am Neal Malhotra.”, the candidate introduced himself.
“Hi Neal! I am Sheethal. Nice meeting you. Please take your seat”
“Thank you madam! Here is my curriculum vitae”, Neal handed the resume to Sheethal as he gently sat on the chair.

Sheethal took the resume as she scanned the list beside her. She was a bit disappointed to see Neal’s name in the already placed list. So this would be another 15 min to half an hour discussion that would take her nowhere. She did not want to spend this time judging the candidates technical expertise. She decided to keep the conversation light.
“Your CV is very impressive” she said smiling “Where are you from?”
“I am from Darjeeling, West Bengal”
“Darjeeling? Wah! I have heard that it is a pretty place”
“Yes, it is. Darjeeling is nested in a setting of Kanchenjunga and Mount Everest, Tibetan Monasteries, Himalayan tribal Life, Pine trees etc which make her qualify as the queen of all hill stations.”
“Hmm. that is interesting.”

Sheethal realized that the conversation is going to be interesting. She would have perhaps recruited Neal if she had not seen his name in the list. But, now she had to just spend the time listening to the interesting facts that Neal would lie in front of her. She talked to Neal about his parents, reason for choosing a college in South India etc. She found all Neal’s answers impressive. Fifteen minutes passed and Sheethal realized that she should now jump into one of her favorite question.

“So Neal, why would you like to work for our company?” Sheethal had already processed some probable answers in her mind and was taking guesses on what Neal would answer.

“Ah! That’s a very interesting question” said Neal.

“Come on man... Tell me this is your dream company, the company values drive you crazy and so on. You had an interesting answer for all the other question and you cannot have anything better for this question” – Sheethal wanted to tell this aloud but she held her back and just continued staring and smiling.

“It’s a long story” Neal continued. “It is all because of the capital letter A”

Sheethal for a second felt she fell off the chair. She tried to recall what question she asked Neal. “Did I ask him the right question?” she thought. “Capital letter A!?” she asked him in a baffled tone.

“Yes, it is all because of the capital letter A” said Neal. “When I was a kid, I used to hate the capital letter A. I always used to forget the small horizontal line in it and used to just write it as an inverted V. My teacher scolded and punished me everyday, but what shall I do? I always forgot to add a horizontal line. I got less marks in the test. My mother also scolded me for missing the horizontal line. One day, I was very disappointed and was sitting on a bench in the playground. There, I saw a big truck. I was very happy to see this truck. I immediately fell in love with it. I realized I should be a truck driver when I grow up.”

“Truck driver?? What was so special in that truck?”

“Yes, a truck driver. The truck had a metal carving of TATA on it, with a capital A which did not have a horizontal bar. I thought the owner of the truck was just like me. He also had forgot to add a horizontal bar in the A.”

Sheethal had her jaw wide open and was trying to grasp Neal’s story.

“I felt very sorry for the owner of the truck since he too might have faced the same scolding and punishment as I. Yet the owner of the truck was successful enough in life to own a truck. So I decided to be a truck driver. As I grew, I learnt that TATA was a great company and also learnt about Jamshedji Tata. I realized that the owner did not forget to add a horizontal line as I did but it was just a logo. Yet, I had a great passion for TATA and the way it was written. After completing my school, I joined engineering as most of my friends did. I had forgotten about being a truck driver. Today morning, while I returned from canteen with my girl friend, something on the notice board attracted me. It was again the same TATA with horizontal line missing. My childhood dream flashed in front of me. My desires sprout again. What if I cannot be a truck driver, I still had a chance to work for TATA as an engineer. I immediately took the application from the placement cell and filled it.”

Neal’s eyes were beaming. Sheethal was wonderstruck with this answer. She did not know what to say. “This is definitely not an entry in FAA database” Sheethal thought. She felt relieved from all the strain and stress that she had gone through since morning. She wished Neal all the best and announced a break.

Monday, June 21, 2010

ಸಂಜಯ ರಾಗ

ಸಂಜಯ ರಾಗವು ಬಲು ಮಧುರ
ಬಾನಲಿ ಹೊನಲಿನ ಚಿತ್ತಾರ
ಸಂಜಯ ರಾಗವು ಬಲು ಮಧುರ

ತಂಗಾಳಿಯು ಬೀಸಲು ಮೃದುವಾಗಿ
ಹಕ್ಕಿಯ ಚಿಲಿಪಿಲಿ ನಾದವಾಗಿ
ಉರಿಯುವ ಸೂರ್ಯನು ತಂಪ ಬಯಸುವ
ಉರಿಯುವ ಸೂರ್ಯನು ತಂಪ ಬಯಸುವ
ಮೆದು ಉಸಿರಲಿ ಧರೆಗಿಳಿದು ಬರುವ
ಸಂಜಯ ರಾಗವು ಬಲು ಮಧುರ

ಹಕ್ಕಿಯು ಹೊರಟಿದೆ ಸೇರಲು ಗೂಡ
ಗಿಡ ಮರ ಕೂಗಿ ಕರೆದಿದೆ ಕೂಡ
ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಸೇರಿ ಕೂಡಿ ನಲಿಯುವ
ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಸೇರಿ ಕೂಡಿ ನಲಿಯುವ
ಈ ಸುಂದರ ಸಂಜೆಯ ಹೊನ್ನಾಗಿಸುವ
ಸಂಜಯ ರಾಗವು ಬಲು ಮಧುರ

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Fooled by randomness

It was just another Friday evening. There was an unnoticed calmness in my mind and heart filled with joy. This was a long awaited moment after five stretched and wreaked weekdays. I had nothing to do except to lie on my bed munching snacks and watching my favorite Seinfeld and George Lopez shows. I had my lappy – my laptop beside me and my personal mail box open. My dear friends often emailed me about their day, work or any incidents that they were interested to share. It was early morning 5 am back home while I am in a time zone where the clock is lagging ten and a half hour. I was pretty sure I would not get any emails at this point of time. But my stupid mind could not stop me take a look at my inbox every 10 minutes. I was addicted.

‘1 new message’ popped up and I turned to look at the inbox only to see an email from ‘Zorpia’ saying we have found few friends for you in India. Since time immemorial, I get this message in my Inbox. I do not know which friend of mine had sent me an invite and I had created an account that was never used. During off hours when I do not get any emails from my friends and family, I get emails from Zorpia, Amazon, eBillme, Bank Of America etc. I frowned and deleted the message. The Seinfeld was now getting more interesting and I had my undivided attention. Seinfeld and my snacks got over and I got up to get some tea and few more snacks. Having snacks always made me feel relaxed and without that Friday evening will be incomplete.

I came back with a cup of tea and some snacks and George Lopez show was on. I placed the snack beside my bed and I saw 4 new emails in the inbox. At a glance I could make out all four were junk emails and none of them were from my friends or relatives. I started deleting all the emails and stopped to see a strange subject line “A unique case of e-introduction (alpha version) – Trust me this is not spam”

Since my childhood I have a tendency of doing things that I am not asked to do. “Diya, do not watch this horror show. It is not meant for you”, my parents once told me and I watched the entire season hiding in a blanket (I felt safe from ghosts hiding in a blanket) without missing even a single episode. Same way, I was asked not to read any spam emails when I initially started using internet and since then I have read each and every spam emails. The subject line ‘This is not a spam’ gathered my attention. I took a look at the sender’s name – Kapil Bhakshi – same surname as that of mine. I do not know when I clicked the mouse – I was already reading the email.

As I read through the email, I realized that it is not a spam; instead it had some really serious stuff in it. Apparently, it seemed like Kapil’s parents and my parents were talking to each other and they wanted us to know each other. This was a real shaky. I could not recall my parents talking about anything like this. Moreover, I was pretty sure my father did not share my personal email ID to anyone. I immediately took my cell phone and started dialing my calling card, but later stopped realizing the time-zone difference. The difference in time zone also meant I had good enough time in hand to study the situation. I read through Kapil’s email again.

‘Is this really a spam? But how could I get a spam from a person with a same surname as mine? Can’t be… this cannot be a spam’. Disheveled thoughts were swiveling in my mind. Kapil had not revealed any details about him. He had mentioned that he does not want to bore me with all his details and I can get it if I wish from FaceBook. The spy in me was alert. I opened my Facebook account and opened Kapil’s profile. It did not have any details except for the fact that he is from a medical college.

Medical college??? I always thought my parents were looking for an engineer and not a doctor. My mother wanted me to study medicine. I never felt like studying medicine except for few days during my pre-university course while I was following ‘Sanjeevani’ – a serial about medical college and students. After my pre-university course, I was successful convincing my parents for engineering. My parents were fine by diverting their attention towards my brother. My brilliant brother got his admission in pre-university for computers. This means he did not opt for biology which in turn means NO to medicine. For a moment I was jolted. Probably my parents wanted to see a doctor in our family and so they went in search for Dr.Son-In-Law!!

I had ample time to study about Kapil. The spy in me had already logged into Linked-In. Kapil’s profile was very impressive. His linked-in profile had links which took me to a web-page detailing about the noble cause Kapil was working for which could bring a difference to Indian history of medicine. The spy in me was busy surfing for his profiles all over the internet and various social networking and within an hour or so, I had learnt a lot about Kapil. I wonder what I am doing in a servicing industry. I deserve to be in Central Bureau of Investigation.

Tik Tik Tik… It was 8 am at home when I called my parents. I spoke to them about Kapil’s email. My parents were a little surprised and confused. They were not aware of talking about alliance for any doctor and moreover they had not shared my email address to anyone. My father asked me to give his contact number to Kapil so that he can talk to him and the confusion clarified.

‘So was this a spam?’ I asked my dearest friend ‘or a mere co-incidence?’ ‘It could be possible that one of your uncles is talking to Kapil’s parents and your parents are unaware of it’ she said. ‘Ask him to share his family details and that may help your parents to relate’.

That sounds good to me. I replied back to Kapil showing an interest to know about his family. I also shared my fathers contact number and asked him to talk to him. My cell phone started buzzing. ‘Hey Diya!! Hurry up yaar. We all are waiting’ and I rushed to get ready.

Next day morning I got up to see my lappy blinking. I logged in to see couple of new emails and my eyes caught Kapil’s name. I took a deep breath and opened his email. This time there were details about his family. His father studied in Mumbai and had settled there ever since. His mom and my mother were classmates. He has a younger brother who is doing just completed his engineering. Again there were neither any detail about his native location nor he had mentioned his parent’s name.

The state of confusion was lingering me now. My mother could not recall any of her friends whose son was a doctor. Moreover she could not recollect any of her friends staying in Mumbai. I wanted to get this clarified now. There could be only two possibilities. One there is a big confusion or two someone is playing a prank with me.

I did not take any long route this time. My message was direct. I told Kapil that my parents are not aware of this proposal and it could be one of my relatives – uncle, aunt, mama, mamy, grandpa who is talking to his parents and I want to get this clarified before we could proceed with any conversations.

I waited for Kapil’s reply. I was curious to know what exactly is going on. The uncertainty was killing me within. Emails from Zorpia, Amazon, E-billme were flooding my inbox. I patiently deleted them and waited for the Kapil’s email.

I did not receive any email till noon. A friend of mine invited to her house for an informal girls party. I went there and momentarily forgot about the whole spam incident. I had a nice time chatting, munching, gossiping and doing all the girls stuff. It was late in the evening when I started walking towards my apartment. I do not know why but I could feel my heart pounding. I was going to unveil the mystery of the day.

I opened the apartment door and rushed to my lappy and logged in. There was this ‘not a spam’ subject line blinking. I was just one click away from the truth – a truth that can take me out of the uncertainty.. a truth that can bring back the feeling of weekend.

‘Hold on. Did you say - alliance? I'm afraid your fear was right. I'm actually trying to reach out to a certain Diya Bhakshi,(who is incidentally known in my family circles) who is an upcoming Indian sushi chef and also slated to accompany me as an exchange student to Osaka, Japan (and hence all the introductions for the upcoming sushi contest in Japan). I guess that you are not the person I'm trying to reach. I'm so sorry that you had to bear with this inadvertent spam. I hope I didn't disrupt/distract in your search for alliance. All the best!’
I went numb reading Kapil’s reply. I could not believe that I had duped myself. I was trying to understand what made me conclude that Kapil’s email was about an alliance. And moreover where did this Sushi come from? Was I a bit too stereotypic about emails from unknown person with my surname? There was a big mess created and I was not sure whether to laugh at it or just meditate to come out of it. Whatever it is, I realized that I was out of the uncertainty which almost killed me.

I was a little embarrassed as I typed a reply to Kapil. I could not reply to him immediately. I slept, took a nap and then thought of replying back.

‘Thanks for the clarification. I am not a sushi chef (not at all a good cook) and the tone of your email asking us to know each other bla bla bla made me feel to think like that. I am glad that we got it clarified.’

I read the email twice before I could send it. I did not want to create unnecessary myths around this conversation. I sent the email and went back to sleep.

It was just a weekend but it seemed too long. There was lot of havoc in my mind that had disturbed my mental balance. How can there be such a mis-communication? What is a doctor doing in Sushi competition? Is he really a doctor? He never told me that. I searched in various networking sites for Kapil Bhakshi and concluded he is a doctor. It can be possible that he is a chef. But the email ID on the networking sites are the same that I received. Could it be that cooking is just his hobby? The spy in me was somehow not convinced with this whole Sushi incident. In the meanwhile, I also found a friend request in orkut with subject line ‘Beta version – Kapil’.

Next day there was again an email in the inbox. It was Kapil again. As regards japanese cuisine he asked me not to sweat over it. He mentioned sushi is as good as the wasabi and we Indians can make awesome wasabi. I had no clue what ‘wasabi’ was. The spy in me was asking me to google for it, so that I will know what sect of people has this in their dish. I had decided not to listen to the spy in me and did not bother to search for it. I was pretty sure it is not a dish from my sect.

That evening I saw a friend request from Kapil on Facebook. I did not want to accept it before I knew the fact. I immediately replied to Kapil with a subjet line ‘Version cannot be upgraded’. I had lot of confusion and I wanted them to be clarified. I guess I my tone was a bit stern and I received the reply.

‘Here's the thing:
This is a total co-incidence and I guess we were both "fooled by randomness". It turns out: My folks were talking to this certain Diya Bhakshi’s family for alliance and stuff. My brother and my folks sent me a orkut profile link -saying this was that Diya to whom I was supposed to get in touch with. I did not double check this information and emailed rightaway. I had no idea that I was inadvertently emailing the wrong Diya (you). I was a little quizzed when you asked me to speak to your folks, because our parents were already speaking to each other. So that’s the real truth.’

I re-read the email. Sushi-wasabi was all prank and the mystery was unveiled. My own name had become my nightmare. This was the third time I was duped by my own name. My overseas bank was a bit hesitant to open an account without an SSN number since there was already a Diya Bhakshi in their system. Next time it was in SSN office. My request was rejected since there was another request with same first name and last name. And the third time a real freaky. I asked Kapil to let me know once he meets the Diya Bhakshi that he was looking for.

Weeks passed and I did not hear back from Kapil. But I received a call from my uncle ‘Diya, when did you pass your engineering?’ The degree passed out year can always be used to derive your year of birth and so the story goes on.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Are you the one who you think you are?

You say you have grown up and you say you are mature
You say you are an intellectual, not a kid anymore
You think you can rule the world and you can reach the goal
Do you know you are a fool and lying to your soul?

You say you are selfless and you have an open heart
But you do expect the fruit for all your deed and art
You would never do a job that keeps your hand bare
Neither would you lend a hand nor do you ever care

Yet... you say you have grown up and you say you are mature
You say you are an intellectual, not a kid anymore

You say you have a broad mind and have a divine soul
But you have all the restrained view buried in the core
You hate, you crib, you are jealous; yet you give a smile
Crooked mind and shrewd thoughts are stacked in the pile

Yet... you say you have grown up and you say you are mature
You say you are an intellectual, not a kid anymore

You say you are great and you spread love and care
But you do hurt others everyday, everywhere
You carry the impure soul with hatred filled within
You are a sugar coated poison, buried in your sin

Yet... you say you have grown up and you say you are mature
You say you are an intellectual, not a kid anymore

Be true to yourself now, there is no need to act
Come out of the toxic shell and accept the fact
And now it is time to grow up and it is time to mature
It is time to be an intellectual coz you are not a kid anymore

Friday, March 12, 2010

Color of LIFE

It’s the color of life that makes you smile
It lures your heart to laugh or cry
It takes your soul to a distant land
With all your colorful dreams behind

It’s the color of life that makes you bright
It fills the gloom with hopes of light
It helps you see when you close your eyes
And lets you listen to your inner voice

It’s the color of life that takes you high
It spreads its wing and helps you fly
It lends its shoulder and helps you lean
And guides you when you follow your dream

It’s the color of life that you can never own
It’s just not red, yellow or brown
It’s the color you ought to fill upon
The lives you meet through dusk and dawn

Friday, February 19, 2010

Rock n roll

Narrow minds are devil's soul
They stink like a sucking foul
There's no reason for you to scowl
Ignore them, let them growl

You are unique, you have a goal
Always listen to your soul
Just relax and take a stroll
Life is just a rock 'n roll

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Last night incident...

It was yet another morning at my desk. The three CCD coffee mugs were lying on my desk since last evening. I threw them in the bin below the desk and cleaned my desk while my desktop was still running the login script. There was mesmerizing silence all across me. The last night incident had left everyone stunned. A truck carrying GoodDay biscuits had hit one of our night shuttles and one of my colleagues took her last breath on the spot. If not for the high alert incident that was raised the last night, I would have taken the same shuttle.

Preethi was a calm girl, hardly interacted with anyone and was always reserved. She used to sit in the opposite wing and I used to meet her sometimes in the lift. She never exchanged a smile or note of recognition and was always found alone during lunch breaks. I am surprised that I have noticed her so much and did not realize it until I got to know about her death.

My desktop gave the Windows logging alarm and I opened my outlook. “Hey Sneha, How you doing?”. Vinny was there at my desk with wrinkles on her forehead. “Doing good Vinny.. What about you?”.

“No yaar, I am not doing any good. I was asked to inform Preethi’s parents about her death. You know it is such a difficult job”

“Oh dear!! Did you inform them?”

“Yes!! I did…”

There was complete silence. I did not know what to ask. Wrinkles on Vinny’s forehead grew deeper. She turned to me and said “And you know what? Preethi’s parents reaction left me paralyzed. They did not seem to be concerned. They told me that they considered her to be dead few years back when she ran away with a guy and hung the phone. It was shocking…”. She sighed and left the cubicle before I could say something.

Tons of thoughts kept swirling in my mind. How can a parent be so rude? It cannot happen this way. I was very disturbed. My mail box had couple of alert emails but they did not alert me enough to work. I was badly in need to coffee. I went to Nisha – my coffee partner.

As we walked across the lobby towards the pantry, Nisha explained me the accident scene as though she watched it live on TV and watched it over and over again on youtube. I just kept nodding. I did not want to listen to all this but somewhere deep in my mind I was curious to know more about Preethi. “And Sneha, you know what…” I was alert now. I felt Nisha would have more details on Preethi’s parent’s reaction.

“No. I do not know. What is it?”

“Sandeep called Preethi’s husband to inform him about her death. Looks like that fellow was completely drunk when Sandeep called and he did not bother to come to hospital. He is such an irresponsible swine. Sandeep had to call him over and over again this morning and only then he agreed to come”.

Coffee did not seem to have its regular charm. I was completely disturbed learning about Preethi’s fate. Life is so fragile. It is so hard to find true love and affection. People learn to hate someone very easily in no time, but why do they take so long to love and appreciate someone. I was in need of meditation.

I went back to my cubicle and I saw Sweety (alias Shruthi) at her desk. She was looking as lively and jovial as ever. But there was something even she was bothered about. “Hiyeeee!!!” she wished me in her regular tone. “Hi Sweety! What happened? You look worried”.

“Haan Sneha!!! You got to know about the night shuttle right!! I felt so bad you know! There were tons of Cashew and Pista biscuits lying all over the road and people were driving over them.”

The last night incident had left its own impact on everyone.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

My first snowfall

My garden look like a fairy
With a white dress and a wand
With white hats on the cherry
And white cape on the pond

It’s snowing all the morning, snowing all the day
It’s the snow that I dreamt of; it’s no more a feign

I step out of my entrance
To watch the first snowfall
I feel like singing and dance
With the snowman and the pal

It’s snowing all the morning, snowing all the day
It’s the snow of my lifetime; I wanna watch it once again

Saturday, February 6, 2010

I know we took it anyway

I know we took it anyway
But I wanna hear it when you say
Bundles of joy swivelling out
Like bunch of flowers bloom in May

As we talk and drive a mile
You make me laugh and make me smile
I know we took it anyway
But tell me now, its been a while

It's quiet calm with drizzling rain
Moonlight shines and spreads its vane
I know we took it anyway
But tell me now, please dont refrain

I know its hard and never straight
It can enmesh and change our fate
I know we took it anyway
And you know well that I can wait

Ale-aleyalondu birugaali

ಮೃದುವಾದ ಅಲೆಯೊಂದು, ಅಲೆ ಅಲೆಯಾಗಿ ಬಳಿ ಬಂದು
ಕರೆದೊಯ್ಯಿತು ನನ್ನನ್ನು ಆಗಸಕ್ಕೆ
ಮೋಡಗಳ ಬಡಿಗಟ್ಟಿ, ಸರೋವರಗಳ ಹಿಂದಟ್ಟಿ
ಕರೆತಂತು ನನ್ನನ್ನು ಪರದೇಶಕ್ಕೆ

ಎತ್ತ ನೋಡಿದರತ್ತ ಇಟ್ಟಿಗೆಗಳ ಪೆಟ್ಟಿಗೆ
ಕಾಣದಾಗಿದೆ ಎಲ್ಲಿಯೂ ಜನದಬ್ಬರ
ಯಾವ ಶಬ್ಧವೂ ಇಲ್ಲಿಲ್ಲ ಪಿಸುಗುಡಲು ಮೆಲ್ಲಗೆ
ಕೇಳಲಾದರೂ ಇಲ್ಲಿಲ್ಲ ಜನ ಹತ್ತಿರ

ಇಲ್ಲಿಹರು ನಮ್ಮವರು ಜನ ಸಾವಿರಾರು
ಆದರೆ ಯಾರಿಗೆ ಯಾರುಂಟು ಯಾರಿಲ್ಲ
ಬದಲಾಗಲು ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಬದುಕಿನ ನಿತ್ಯ ಕಾರುಬಾರು
ಜನಜನತೆಯ ನಡು ಪ್ರೀತಿ ಕಾಣದಲ್ಲ

ಹಕ್ಕಿಯಾಗಲು ಬಯಸಿ ಹಾರಿ ಬಂದೆನು ನಾನು
ಪ್ರೀತಿಪಾತ್ರರನೆಲ್ಲ ದೂರ ಬಿಟ್ಟು
ಕತ್ತರಿಸಿದಂತಾಗಿದೆ ನನ್ನ ಈ ರೆಕ್ಕೆಯನು
ಹಾರಲಾಗದೆ ಕುಳಿತಿರುವೆನು ಪಟ್ಟು ಬಿಟ್ಟು

ರೆಕ್ಕೆಪುಕ್ಕವಿರುವ ಪುಟ್ಟ ಪಕ್ಷಿಯಲ್ಲ ನಾನು
ಈ ಸತ್ಯದ ನನಗೆ ಅರಿವಿಲ್ಲವೇಕೆ?
ನನ್ನೊಳಗಿನ ಬಿರುಗಾಳಿಯನು ನಾನೇ ತದೆದಿಟ್ಟಿರುವೆನು
ಹಾರಾಡಲು ಶತಸಿದ್ಧ ಇನ್ನಿಲ್ಲ ಶಂಕೆ