Dear dad

Dear dad,

I hope you'll be able to read this, wherever you are. You'll be glad to hear that we all are doing well here. Well, that's not exactly true. Rohan was down with pneumonia last week. We had to admit him to a hospital here. Thanks to God's grace, he is stable and getting better now.

However, there is something that happened then that has motivated me to write to you now. The day he was admitted, his condition was very bad. That night, I was standing outside his room, watching through the window. The doctor had advised us not to disturb him. I couldn't stand to see my son in such pain. Such a beautiful little life does not deserve to go through such a horrible experience. I stood there feeling helpless - I felt being his dad I ought to be doing more for him. But I felt very helpless. I don't know why.

This thought took me back to the day I had met with that accident. I don't really remember when it was; I think it was the day I passed my seventh grade exams. But I still remember the sight of the truck approaching me vividly. The next thing I remember seeing when I came to, was you looking through the window the exact same way as I was that night. And I saw tears in your eyes. I couldn't understand why you were crying. I always thought of you as a very strong man. I looked up to you, I always wanted to be like you. But those tears... they didn't seem right. You felt.... weak.

I was very upset with myself that night. I felt I did not deserve such a weak father. Someone who instead of doing something for me would just stand there crying. I felt angry. Very angry.

But last week, I suddenly realized how wrong I was. You weren't weak. You cried because you loved me. I now realize truly how very bad you must have felt that night. I mistook your tears of affection as weakness. I vowed to myself that night that I would never cry again in my life. I told myself I am strong. I'll be strong. But when I was feeling as helpless for Rohan last week, I felt weak. I felt helpless. There wasn't anything I could do for him. But I didn't cry. I tried to be strong for him. But I don't think it was because I am strong. I am starting to doubt my strength now. I think it was because I am incapable of showing any such emotions. I think the years of anger I had harbored in my heart have rendered me thus.

I would give anything to be half as good a man as you were dad. I hope, and pray, that some day I would have improved. And made you proud.

Love,

A memorable moment

She was nervous. It was quite evident from the worried look she had on her face. But deep inside her heart, she knew that she needed this. She had never had this before; this was to be her first time. She was waiting. The wait was long and she was getting more tense. She had made up her mind to get it done this time, and that is how she wanted it to be.

Then she saw him. His calm smile and his confidence soothed her. He told her not to worry. He had done this before. His reassuring talk convinced her. Yes, she would take this step. She had to, sooner or later. The pain inside her won't let her off so easily. He called her in and asked her to lie down. She did as was told. He was the boss, she would follow his directions. And he instructed her to open her mouth. She was unwilling, hesitant at first. But he was the one running the show here. She had to listen to him. And she trusted him. She would do as he would tell her to. And she obliged. He smiled and went about with his job. She was feeling the discomfort, she told him to stop. He didn't. She knew he wouldn't. A part of her didn't want him to. All this would end happily - she was sure of this. He had told her so. She had to go on.

And so it continued. The pain was getting unbearable for her. But the joy that came with it was far greater, and that was what she craved for more than anything else in the world right now. Pain is only short lived, the lasting relief is what is more important - she knew this well now; then she saw blood. She was scared, but he comforted her. He had been here before; he knew this was normal, and there was nothing to be afraid of. The trickle of blood was nothing compared to the ecstacy waiting for her in the end. How true was that! She forgot all that soon, and he carried on. Her anxiety was soon taken over by amazement - she wondered how in the world he could be so good. She had never expected this. He was so good at what he was doing, and she was more than happy that he was.

Now it was about to end. Been half an hour since that wait had ended. And then it was done. Oh how the pain magically left her! He looked up at her. He smiled. She had been good. He had had far worse before, the ones who could not take all this so well. She had been so co-operative. She understood that all this would bring her happiness like never before in the end. The pain was now long forgotten - it had become a thing of the past now. Now there was pure joy, which she had felt she could never ever experience ever since she had that terrible toothache. And thus it was; she thanked him, paid him and left. Surely this visit to the dentist had done the little girl a lot of good.

Mathematical elegance in nature

Sitting at one of the talks in the conference I am attending today, I was reminded of an idea back from my IIT days. I consulted my notes from back then and was surprised at not having shared my views on this blog. Well, I guess doing that now would perhaps be a good way to restart this blog.

This was when I was doing a course in bio-electricity, having decided that semiconductors is not for me (and well, here I am doing just that!). So we were learning about something called the I-V characteristics of Sodium channels in our cells. I was surprised to learn that the response of the sodium conductance (analogous to the permeability of the membrane to sodium) to an action potential (an extra refractory state that the conductance enters as a result of prolonged depolarization) is exactly like the behavior of power electronic circuits. In fact, what surprised me most was that the deactivation process for this conductance is exactly the principle on which our SMPSes are designed (if you are unaware of what an SMPS is, an example is the power supply in your desktop computers).

If you didn't get the technical aspect of what I just wrote above, don't worry - it's not that important. What I found interesting was that SMPS designs came in force in 1967 or so (history) whereas this behavior in cells was studied by Hodgkin and Huxley in around 1949 or so, this being one of their achievements that won them the Nobel prize. What fascinates me is that the SMPS is a very elegant design that came up independent of these studies (and I have found no other reference which has talked of a comparison of the two, so I assume I am making a first attempt of sorts here. In case anyone finds something that I may have inadvertently missed out, please do tell me).

This course that I talk about has presented me with a different perspective of the world that we see and feel. The Nernst equation that I studied in the course also made me think of why nature chose to go for a 'logarithmic' design for our cells - besides, the origin of the logarithmic function is a totally independent incident. I now ask you that question asked by the Professor conducting this course - if you believe in either God or evolution, tell me this - why did God design the world as it is now, or why did evolution choose this path that we are all following? To quote another natural observation that is in tune with what I am saying here - a Hexagonal close packing of spheres is known now to be the most dense of all packings possible for a collection of spherical objects - however this is the principle that is central to the design of bee hives - something that the bees have been doing for over a million years I believe. The mathematical elegance of the whole design of this world, leave alone the cells - take for instance, even the motion of the heavenly bodies - the whole mathematical rule-set that the design of the universe follows - isn't it something magical - doesn't all this force you to think why it all is the way it is? I am happy that I chose this course before I graduated from this place - as it surely has helped me look at the world that I live in in a different light. Could we take a leaf out of the universe's book and actually develop our engineering practices to follow natural designs?

Happiness for sale

A story from a few days ago. My cousin and her family had come over for the holidays and my snow white Maltese had just given birth to beautiful puppies and my nieces were very happy to welcome them into our family. But our parents said that they would not allow any more dogs in our home and with a heavy heart, we decided to give them away.

As we had bought our Maltese at a pet store, I only felt it fair to sell the puppies instead of giving them away for free. Also, I felt that this way I can ensure that the puppies go to a place where they'll be valued, where they would be cared for. So I started making arrangements for the sale.

I painted a nice sign board advertising my puppies and my kid-niece tried painting one of them onto it. I was nailing the board to a post in my garden when I felt a slight tug at my pants. I thought perhaps one of the puppies had managed to wiggle past the crack in their kennel door and turned to pick it up and take it back inside. Only to find a small boy with big eyes and a pleading smile looking up at me.

"Uncle," he said, "I want to have one of your puppies. (a longish) Please!!"

"Well bachu," I told him, "I am sorry but I am not giving away the puppies for free. If you want a puppy, you'll have to buy one!"

This took away a part of the smile. He dug into his pockets, apparently searching for corners hitherto unexplored, expecting some cash to appear there miraculously. After a good couple of minutes of scouring, he extracted some coins and held them out to me, "I have 7 rupees with me right now. Is that good enough?"

Although I personally would have preferred receiving a much bigger multiple of that amount, I did not want to break his little heart so I agreed. His smile returned, a small curve of his lips at first, then blossoming into a huge grin when I called out my dog and her puppies so that the boy could select his pet. He let out a squeal of joy when the four little fur-balls scampered up to him and started playing at his feet. His eyes danced with delight and it seemed he was having a tough time making up his mind on selecting one of them.

Just then, a fifth fur-ball appeared at the door of the kennel, and peeped out with its little bright eyes. It gave a shrill yelp and hobbled down to where its other brothers and sisters were playing. It was smaller than the others and had a slight limp due to which it couldn't walk well. Still it did the best it could and tried catching up with the rest.

"I want that one!" said the little boy pointing to the new entrant.

"But my dear, it is not like the other puppies," I told him. "Beautiful and cute it is no doubt, but he may not grow up to become a strong dog that can run and play with you like the others here," I said pointing to the other four who were now busy with some game of their own.

The boy ran to the small pup to pick it up. It was then that I noticed that he had a deformed left leg, and wasn't able to walk properly. Limping back to me snuggling the pup in his hands, he said, "As you can see uncle, I cannot run very well either. And when my friend here grows up, I'll be there for him so that he knows that it's not bad to be different from others. And at times when I feel bad about myself, he'll be there to teach me the same lesson. Thank you!" saying this he handed me the seven rupees and began limping away.

As I watched the twosome walk away happily, I couldn't help imagining just how many of us are searching for someone like ourselves, someone who can understand and accept us the way we are.

Oba-man!

"... Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

"Thank you. God bless you. And God bless the United States of America," he said on the T.V.

"Change is here!" cried my sister in the background.

"Where change?" I asked.

This was how things were on January 20th this year, when I had slightly less than little clue of who Obama was. As is typical of us management consultants, I found out more about him only after the big thing happened - his inauguration, that too thanks to Google (again something characteristic of our kind). Reading about his life, both on the internet, and in the countless number of books that came up on the market as soon as he made President, I found enlightenment and decided I had to do something for him, as a mark of respect for his teachings.

So this is what I did.

Again in keeping with management consulting tradition, I needed a model to go alongwith my task. So I bought a 3 ft high statue of superman, painted it black and installed it near the main entrance to my apartment. I named it 'Our Oba-man of Hope' (to give it that saintly touch). I spread the word that this idol brings hope to the hopeless those who seek hope and shows one the path towards change. This idol went on to become a hit with the hopeless... many, but there were some who asked me the story behind it. Since I didn't have a story and needed one soon, I did what people in my profession do all the time. I made up one.

I told all visitors that our Oba-man is a shrine, who takes away our bad loans, creates more jobs, and puts in more money to save an economy that doesn't understand how to handle money. I told people to come to the shrine penniless and pray to the man for succour. And as happens with most made-up stories, mine went on to become a big hit! (ref. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, the Bible etc.) People believed in the story and brought flowers for the statue and decorated it with pictures of The Man, as they now lovingly referred to 'Their Oba-man of Hope'. To add to the effect, I told people that the man always resided inside the statue in spirit, and can see within you to see if you really seek hope and change. That way I managed to fend off allegations against the credibility of my claims.

My effort finally discovered recognition through the sole medium that supports such useless noble causes - The Mumbai Mirror. Some good-for-nothing writer wrote a piece on Our Oba-man that was read by thousands of bored got-nothing-better-to-read/do readers and my mailbox was flooded with hundreds and thousands of requests from all over Mumbai asking where the shrine at is and how should one get there.

To make my endeavour seem more mysterious, I used to light lamps around the statue at night and hired some dancers to fake possession and dance around, especially on days when we had a good crowd. I even put up a donation box near the statue, inscribed with the message 'All proceeds go to the O.B.A.M - A.I.M foundation, which strives towards achieving Oba-man's main aim' (Though I never told anyone that it actually stands for 'Oh Boy! All this Money! And It's Mine!')

I finally wrote to Obama about this story one day, and asked him to come bless the statue, which would have brought in even more devotees (I even offered him a part of the O.B.A.M - A.I.M proceeds). But he said he was too busy pushing deals for putting even more money in the hands of incapable persons, and could not find the time to do so. The Mumbai Mirror writer referred to earlier got a wind of this and wrote another feature enlightening his readers with the fact that the Oba-man statue is unauthorised and that it doesn't have the blessings of The Man. This led to the dwindling of crowds first, and my alternate source of revenue thereafter.

Although the Oba-man idea may have failed, the black superman statue still stands tall near our apartment entrance, attesting the belief that we management consultants share - "I can always sell my idea. I only need a few fools to buy it."

Extinction of the pencils

Mumbai, Feb. 2nd

With all the hoopla over global warming, efforts are now on to help the environment. People are (assumed to be) doing all they can to reduce the harm that they are causing to nature. Although I had heard this from my grandmother long ago, it seems that only recently have scientists been able to prove that deforestation is contributing to global warming. Efforts are on to stop the irresponsible cutting down of trees. This, many scientists claim, will slow down global warming and thus avoid extinction of several species. Ironically though, the fall out of this step is the extinction of an entity dear to each one of us, sometime or the other in our lifetime - the pencil.

Until a decade ago, there were two main varieties of pencils - colour pencils and the boring ones. Only the boring ones now survive. Colour pencils lost out in the race for survival to fitter competitors such as markers and felt tip pens and the last confirmed account of a colour pencil sighting was in 1995 in 'Manibhai Steshanari - SSC books is on diskont' beside the Municipality school in my locality. Sparse sightings of colour pencils have been reported later on, but none are yet confirmed.

The boring pencils (those ones that are white outside, but black within - a fact that has also led some civilisations to name these pencils as 'politician pencils' or as the scientific name goes pencilus cheaterous) are facing tough competition from the digital revolution. Schools and offices are going digital, thus inevitably leading to wiping out of pencils in their boundaries. Other traditional habitats for pencils are now being overtaken by pens, xboxes and playstations.

To get an idea of what the world's reaction is to this calamity, I undertook a series of interviews, asking my audience what they think about this decline of pencils. A one and a half year old kid (who did not know his name) responded with a "Da da.... ga!" thus highlighting the seriousness of this issue. A six year old's mother responded "Good only no... now my beti use pen! I not uses pen in ischool. We usering chalk." These same thoughts were echoed by a teenager who was in a hurry and didn't say much - "Wtf?". Overall, all respondents agreed with one fact in particular - the world is more concerned with the paltry problem of global warming over the dire consequences of the mass extinction of pencils.

By now we all know that we live in an interconnected world and the extinction of pencils will have far reaching consequences. One species that would be directly affected is the pencils' main predator - the pencil sharpener. Sharpeners have already gone extinct in areas where pencils no longer exist and they are not expected to survive long after the last pencil is sharpened and worn out. The eraser won't be spared either. The pink coloured parasite that attaches itself to the top of each pencil won't find a host once all pencils are wiped out. This is expected to add to the boredom of school life which currently claims eraser chewing to be a major pastime activity.

Awareness of the dangers of pencil extinction are now growing and scientists are trying to invent some new theories (read, lies) to justify deforestation. One such claim has been made by a group working in a local college in Mumbai that says that replacing forests with grasslands will help reduce global warming, as the lighter coloured grass blades will reflect more light into space than do the dark green leaves of trees. This, they say, will cause lesser heating of the atmosphere than what is currently observed. In a recent experiment, the group (details witheld due to confidentiality issues) also demonstrated a large white colour plastic sheet reflects even more sunlight than do grass blades, thus setting in motion events that could lead to all forests on earth being replaced by white plastic sheets. When asked whether they have done no more than proving the already well established facts about light and heat, the scientists dismissed the meeting and invited me to a party in the adjacent room with free booze and Himeshbhai songs. I don't recall what happened next.

Endurance weekend

1. Was watching the amazing match between Verdasco and Nadal on Friday. Desperately wanted Verdasco to win, but Nadal is simply too good to be beaten. Though I think none has given him such a challenge as Verdasco did in that match. What makes it more special is that he cramped up in the third set, yet went on to play for 2 more hours to take the match into the fifth, dishing out some excellent tennis and matching Nadal stroke for stroke, only to end up losing to a double fault. I salute him for his endurance.

2. Was going to IIT on Saturday. Was waiting at the bus stop for the AC bus, for I cannot stand a 1.5 hour ride in the regular buses in the unforgiving afternoon heat in Mumbai. Saw an old man get down from some bus. He walked up to me and asked for an address, that was well over a couple of kilometers from where we were. I suggested he take an auto to go there, to which he simply replied - 'Arey beta, sharir budha hua hai, par pair to abhi jawan hai!' (My body has grown old son, but my legs are still young!) and proceeded to walk the way to his destination. Now he didn't look like someone who "couldn't" afford an auto ride, but was rather willing to foresake it, because he was confident that he could endure the walk in the sweltering heat. So moved I was by his determination that I ditched an AC bus that happened to arrive just then for a crowded regular bus trailing it. Sometimes we take for granted life's little luxuries so much so that we lack the will to endure its little challenges occasionally.

3. I usually go jogging for 4km daily (planning to raise the bar to 5km soon). Yesterday, my right leg cramped up before I had completed even my first 200m warmup round. Still I went on and ran the entire 4km as a tribute to Verdasco's superhuman efforts 2 days ago. Took me 40 mins against my usual 30. Foolhardy? Perhaps; but it was an amazing feeling I got when I completed the stretch. I know my attempt cannot compare to challenges that most of us have to put up with, but it's worth enduring them for the sense of achievement that you get at the end.

Poor ones

I keep getting lots of forwards everyday... but some are so stupid that they are really amazing! Here's an excerpt from one I got yesterday:

1.
Bahaar Aane Se Pehle Fizaa Aa Gayii
Bahaar Aane Se Pehle Fizaa Aa Gayii....
Phool Ko Khilne Se Pehle Bakri Kha Gayii!

2.
Saap Ne Piya Bakri Ka Khoon
Saap Ne Piya Bakri Ka Khoon...
Good Afternoon! Good Afternoon! Good Afternoon!

3.
Yashomati Maiyya Se Bole Nandlala
Yashomati Maiyya Se Bole Nandlala...
"Tata Sky Laga Daala To Life Jhingalala!"

4.
Hoton Pe "Haan" Hai...
Dil Mein "Naa" Hain...
Hot aur Dil mein jo bhi ho
Shashi Kapoor ke paas Maa hai!

5.
Premika: "Aisa Khatt Likho Sajna, Ki Meri Umar Beet Jaaye Padhne Mein ... "
Premi: "$@# % #$ @ $ %#$ &&*
!@#@ &&*( )(&% %#$% %#$%#$
!#@!# ?<":::<< $%^$% %#%"
@#@#!! ?#$%^ $#$%&<<
#%$%""}}+ !@??": @@#$$$?:@!! Le Padh!"

Somehow I found this funny at 2 am yesternight.

Adios.

Back from Hiatus - with a dream

I know I had announced that I won't be blogging here anymore. But that was a long time ago, and things have changed a lot since then. That was not such a long time ago, but things have changed more than ever since then too, and I am now left with too much time on hand to avoid blogging. So, here I am. Bear me if you can.

--

If there's one question you shouldn't ask me, it is, "So what do you want to become when you grow up?" (or the interview version of it - "Where do you see yourself x years down the line?") Back when I was a kid, I would've responded with a "Doctor!" (or "Engineer!" depending on whether I was with my mom or dad - yes, I learnt diplomacy at a rather young age). About 5 years back, my answers would have narrowed down to a mere "Engineer!", but suddenly they widened as I coursed through IIT and eventually I ended up as a management consultant (part of the reason why I never voiced this option when I was a kid was that this had altogether too many letters for my liking back then). Anyway, now if this same question is posed to me, don't be surprised to hear me answer "President!"

Oh and before you get me wrong there, let me make it clear. I am interested in becoming the President of the USA. Of late, citizenship issues have been confounding me a lot - I live in a city that I was born in, but of late some residents of which have been marking my people as 'immigrants' (purely because I speak a different language at home; the fact that I speak their language better than even they do doesn't seem to matter). I felt it best to leverage my new-found identity confusion to target the post of international head of oil and natural gas supply, international head of arms, international war coordinator the President of USA. (head of economic incompetency bailout fund)

Why, with an African-American making it to that post now, my ambition still has some hope. And although I lack plenty of credentials that the job requires (yet), the most fundamental, according to me is the '-American' part of it, at least to get me elected if for nothing else. So as of now, even George Bush's dog stands a better chance of making it there than me. Not till long ago, I used to feel that maybe a person not born in USA is not eligible to become president, as per their constitution. But now I have realised that their government doesn't really care about the constitution anymore. And anyway if I don't get elected, I can always approach the supreme court for getting me appointed President (ref. Bush in 2000). If they deny my application, I can sue them for racial discrimination. Next stop, White House.

I am sure this dream of mine is going to set in motion a movement that will lead to people of all possible nationalities and impossible credentials vying to be president. The USA better be prepared for a tidal wave of such applications, albeit not like the one that left hundreds of thousands dead in Indonesia, Thailand etc. a couple of years ago, rending this analogy not only non-funny but also tasteless. Besides, it wasn't even technically correct, with the correct term being 'tsunami' and not a mere 'tidal wave'. What does this have to do with what I wrote above? Nothing at all, but my post was falling short of my target post length by a paragraph and I had to do something about it.

Adios.

Tagged

Normally I don't follow such non sense, and wouldn't care for one to reopen my old blog only to close it again. But this being sent by Abhi, who has had more than his share of nonsense dished out by me, I have decided to play along and humor him :)

Last movie seen in a theatre: Devani has finally managed to get the message into my head - movies aren't worth paying for in theatres; especially when PVR with it's 180+ tickets is such a tempting choice. Should be 'I am legend', if I am not wrong

What book are you reading? Interpreter of maladies, Prisoner of birth, Introduction to Economic analysis :)

Favourite board game: Cheating :)

Favourite magazine: Reader's Digest maybe. I am not very fond of reading magazines

Favourite smells: Smell of wet earth

Favourite sound: Sound of Mumbai's heavy rains hammering perpetually on the parapet outside my window

Worst feeling in the world: Being stared at

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up? What was my last dream?

Favourite fast food place: Kitchen

Future child’s name: Guess this would depend on future wife :P My choice would be Vikram if child turns out to be a boy, and Ananya if a girl

Finish this statement, “If I had a lot of money I’d…” : Not be writing blogs as a pastime

Do you drive fast? I don't drive at all

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Who doesn't?

Do you eat the stems on broccoli? In my country, Cauliflower comes closest to a broccoli. And no, I don't eat the stems

Storms - Cool or Scary? Scary

If you could dye your hair any colour, what would be your choice? Violet with yellow shadows

Name all the different cities/towns you have lived in: Bombay, New York, Hong Kong

Favourite sports to watch: Tennis, Basketball

One nice thing about the person who sent this to you: Abhi... never stops surprising me

What’s under your bed? A dream box, from which I pick up one or two for each night

Would you like to be born as yourself again? Perhaps

Morning person or night owl? Night person

Over easy or sunny side up? No eggs, thank you

Favourite place to relax: Place no bar

Favourite ice cream flavour: Flavour no bar

You pass this tag to –I tag myself; I like running in loops

Among people you tag, who do you think is going to respond the fastest? I won't

The End

It has been a wonderful experience writing this blog, and I hope I made at least a few people happy with some of the posts that I would've put up. But now I feel it's time to move on. Don't feel the passion for blogging that I used to uptil a while ago. Find a different hobby, something challenging or something. Perhaps I may return to blogging, but it would be on a different blog.

Thanks for reading. Good luck with everything!

Adios,
Signing off.

Mind my business

People ask me how I can manage living by myself in hostel, given the updates in my physical condition. I don't see a problem here, I tell them, as there are a few friends that I still have who care for me while I am here (I didn't lose them all after this little accident you see, just the ones who weren't good enough. I think most of them will try coming back into my life after I get well, but then I hope that I am wiser now to be careful in making friends). Besides, life back home was getting a bit boring, with people pouring in on and off and reminding me of that day. Life here isn't much better actually, but what with my laptop loaded with Family guy and Pocket tanks, I cannot (should not) really complain. Besides our hostel valedictory function is a couple of days away, and that is something to look forward to.

And there's always blogspot. Blogging is a passion for me, and I shall pursue it no matter how bad the consequences of a seemingly harmless leap turn out to be. The curious kind of people often ask me: 'Is there any hidden intention behind your blogging eh?' I say, no, it's just to put out my views and to satisfy that urge I always feel to write something. 'What something?', they ask me. I forward them the link to my blog, and they read it and more often than not, they'd shake their heads in mystification and say 'Pathetic... Do something worthwhile instead'.

Something worthwhile? What is that supposed to mean? I believe coming from my fellow-IIT-mates, most of who lead pathetic lives locked up to their fantasy land the world knows as IIT Bombay, it could mean one thing - study well and get a better CGPA. A better CGPA. Hmm. Why? Just because I have more time than what is demanded to lead a happy life in this place, satisfied with a good enough CGPA? Makes no sense to me. Or perhaps it means that I should find a girl, much against my wishes for the time being, waste some time and money on her, and act as if she is the sole reason for my happiness. That 'something worthwhile' could even mean that I should take up mentoring as a hobby and loiter by the freshmen wings in our hostel and pass on valuable fundaes, that no one asked for in the first place. I think now it's too late for this, but a couple of years back, something worthwhile could also have meant hanging around the coffee shack or the Kresit canteen and get involved in some butt-licking politics to bag a place in the organising committees of Asia's saddest fests. I really don't have a clue what they mean, do I?

As my stint here crawls to an end, I sit back and contemplate on how wonderful the last 4 years really have been - all those varied dimensions it has afforded my life have been fantastic. And all this has been without that extra effort that I used to put in into almost everything before I came here. I hope now that the world minds my business as IIT did these past few years. Because, owing to my new-found laziness, I am congenitally incapable of minding my own.

Apathy

He lay there wounded on the street. Today was supposed to be a good day for him. At least that's what the astrologer had said in today's breakfast show. He was said to be in for a good news today, and would make financial progress. He was also destined to find luck in matters of romance and marriage. A perfect day, he had thought it would be.

Now he lay there on the busy road. His first day at work. How happy he had been when the partner of this reputed firm had shook hands with him that day during his college placements and said, 'We wish to make you an offer. Will you accept it?' His joy had known no bounds. His parents were even happier. He felt a part of the reason for their joy was that he would be staying with them now. At home. No more hostel life. How his family loved him! And how proud he had felt to make them happy!

And how proud he was today as he set out to start his professional life. His mother had woken him up early. He performed the morning pooja at home today, something that he had never done before; at least he couldn't recall any. His parents were so happy to see their son starting out a new life. And how happy was his Shefali for him! He had promised her that today he would bring her home to meet his parents. This was supposed to be the perfect day. He was determined to make it even better.

His mind was preoccupied with these thoughts all the while as he traveled to his office. So engrossed was he in his dreams that he never noticed the dumper hurtling down the street. The next thing he knew, he was flying in the air, completely against his will. Crash! And he banged his head against the pavement. He had no idea what was going on for a moment or two from then on. He had a faint recollection of seeing his arm bend in a horribly unnatural angle, and he felt something wet near his ear. He tried touching it to examine it, but realised that he was unable to move his arms. And there was a searing pain in his legs. Unknown to him, a truck had passed over them after he had fallen, and whatever was left of his legs was a bloody pulp that was probably hurting him the most. He tried screaming out for help, he wanted to scream out of his pain. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was able to manage a grunt, that ended with a hiss, and was probably heard by none but him.

The accident took place in the busiest square in town, flanked on all sides by offices that belonged to some of the city's biggest MNCs. Perhaps the city's highest earning folks worked there, and were witness to the gruesome mishap that he just had. But no one ventured forward to help him. They were scared - it was an accident, a police case, and they might only invite trouble in trying to help him. Besides, he already looked dead. He hadn't moved at all; just made some noises now and then. So they ignored him. The traffic ignored him. There he was on the street where he had dreamed of walking, near the buildings where he longed to work, with the people that he aspired to know and work with. But not this way. Why wasn't anyone helping him? Why were they so indifferent?

A long time passed before someone who cared noticed him. He hailed down a taxi and asked the driver to help him rush the injured to the hospital. Understandably, the driver was reluctant as this was a police case. By then a crowd had gathered who wanted to help this poor fellow. They threatened and scolded the taxi driver into submission and hurried him to the nearest hospital. He was pronounced dead upon admission.

Some of the people cried for the young man who had died such a tragic death. Some were in a state of shock - they had never seen a death this horrible before. They got his family's phone number from his cellphone. His mother broke down on seeing his body. His father never said a word - he just wept silently. Shefali would come to know only after a week, from his office, where she had called up to ask about him.

The day was supposed to end on a good note for him. But he wasn't there to see it end.

--

Apathy - something that has got me thinking a lot for the last two weeks. Of course I have exaggerated a lot in this tale - our folks may not be so indifferent; not to say that they all care. From a personal experience, my little accident 15 days back that has resulted in a compound fracture of my right arm making it dysfunctional for another month now, took place near a crowded canteen in IIT. That too at a time when some of the well known folks in campus gather there for a cup of tea and some socialising and some butt-licking politics. And what disappointed me was that none of them came forward to help me then. Few cared to even look my way. I was lucky to have two of my best friends with me when it happened, and they took complete charge of the situation thence. I have always said that as a collective lot, IITians are socially challenged geniuses. Now I rest my case.

An appeal - Whenever you happen to see someone hurt, or an accident, or someone in need of your help; please help them. No work of your's could possibly be more important than helping that person.

The Stare

Now that my right arm is showing signs of recovery, and that a new month has started, ushering in another 400Mbs of download limit for me, I felt I can finally resume my blogging habit.

There have been many new things that I have learnt as I am recuperating now, many new experiences, and hopefully the learning curve hasn't already peaked off or plateaued away yet. Challenges are aplenty, with even mundane activities now posing as tough problems. But as they say, accidents can only hurt the body, not the spirit, so well, my life goes on undaunted. Coming back to my blog, I was wondering which topic shall I first write about - from the many that I have in mind. But it isn't a difficult thing to decide - there is a thing that I happen to notice everywhere, something that ceaselessly reminds me that I don't look 'normal', that there is something different about me - and you guessed it - the ubiquitous Indian stare.

It all started on the last Sunday of March when I got my head tonsured to 'beat the heat', attracting thousands of stares in the bargain. The accident on Monday added to the attention and now I am a walking - talking showpiece - a sink for all stares, from young and old alike. The Indian stare is something that is very distinctive about us people - I had gone to USA with a clean shaven head, albeit without a plastered right arm, but no one chose to pass even a second's worth of glance at me. But back home, the situation's the exact opposite.

When a foreigner or a native like me, with something different to my physical appearance walks into their midst, our folks leave aside whatever task they are doing, no matter how important, and start staring. There are also those who choose to multitask - they go about with their activities as they continue to stare. Boys and girls, men and women, uncles and aunties, young and old, people from all strata and niches of the Indian social structure - they are right up there, united in their efforts to stare. They stare you down for a good couple of minutes, or perhaps five, until they have satisfied their visual needs with all there is to be seen. When their eyes meet mine, and as I smile, more so out of habit than any other reason, I get a few more stares in return.

There is nothing harmful about the stare, I have noticed. This isn't the kind of stare you get in western countries, that is mainly associated with ill feeling or an evil eye. The Indian stare has a compassionate touch to it, sometimes with a twist of pity and a pinch of good will. Our culture it seems has so developed that staring isn't a bad habit. Rather, not staring is looked upon as a sign of indifference. And it's something instinctive - no one is taught how or when to stare - we are all born masters in our own right.

But I love the stare. It gives me the sweet feeling that my people notice me, they care for me, even total strangers, as my first few days following the mishap taught me. But I hope I soon get away from the receiving end of it, and hope no one gets into the position I am in right now for me to stare at in return.

Happy staring!

Part of the ocean

This is an excerpt from 'Tuesdays with Morrie', by Mitch Albom. It's a book that I would recommend to all readers - a bit on the philosophical side, but not lecturesque; in fact it is a wonderful account of a brave man's fight against a dreaded disease. This is one story that really touched my heart, and hence it is reproduced here.

I heard a nice little story the other day," Morrie says. He closes his eyes for a moment and I wait.

"Okay. The story is about a little wave, bobbing along in the ocean, having a grand old time. He's enjoying the wind and the fresh air - until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore.

' "My God, this is terrible," the wave says. "Look what's going to happen to me!"

"Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave, looking grim, and it says to him, "Why do you look so sad?"

"The first wave says, "You don't understand We're all going to crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn't it terrible?"

"The second wave says, "No, you don't understand. You're not a wave, you're part of the ocean." '

I smile. Morrie closes his eyes again.

"Part of the ocean," he says, "part of the ocean." I watch him breathe, in and out, in and out.

Q Mania

There are several reasons why I love my country. And there are also reasons why I love my county more than other countries that I've been to. And I shall now talk about one of those.

Queues. I simply love queues. That's both - watching and waiting in them. And nowhere in the world do we find such a wide variety in the kinds and causes for queues than in India. We have queues for almost everything here - right from paying electricity bills to waiting for water at the village tap. We have the long orderly queues and also the chaotic heap queues. In no other way is our unity in diversity better reflected than in our zest for forming and waiting in queues, no matter what or who we are. We don't need a reason to form a queue, nor an incentive - we line up outside schools for admission forms at least a day before the counter opens; no passport is got without waiting in a line at the passport office at least an hour before the day commences. Railway reservations are lost if you join the queue after the counter opens. Another interesting thing to be noted about our queues are the excellent space optimisation that we pride ourselves in. Not willing to waste even a nanometer of space in our already overcrowded country, we uncomplainingly stand pressed against each other in queues. Besides, in some instances, we also aim at time optimisation - like when traveling by a long distance trains. We don't believe in waiting in our seats till the train halts at the station; we start lining up at the door a good couple of stations before our destination.

I for one, am one of those types who simply loves such queues. Whenever I am not waiting in a queue, I am eagerly looking for an opportunity to join one. And I love them in all their variations - waiting for buying movie tickets, waiting at the McD counter for an Aloo Tikki, waiting at the bus stop to catch bus no. 524, waiting for my token number to be called out at Canara bank, being made to wait by Vodafone when 'the user I am trying to reach is on another call'... the list goes on. There was a time when I despised waiting in lines and complained of the time wasted and the 'ooff ye garmi' and so on. But I've gradually learned to accept and eventually love these symbolic representations of our people's culture.

I am now almost a queue addict. I normally watch cricket matches on the TV, but when I do choose to go to the stadium - it's not for the match, but the long queue to enter the stadium, and the even longer one to come out early if the team puts up a dismal show. Besides, I don't need a reason to stand in a queue - it's a birth right that no one can take away from me. Whenever I see a long queue, I instinctively walk up to the last person in the queue and ask 'Bhai ye line kis liye hai?' No matter what the reason may be, I nevertheless spend at least 5 minutes waiting in that queue for the sheer joy it provides to my mind. In fact, given the selfless kind of person that I am, I never miss the chance to share this joy with other fellow human beings. If some errant fellow tries to skip the queue and walks straight to the counter, I call out to him (no matter where my position in the queue may be; my experiences teach me that I have a voice loud enough to be heard by that fellow for my farthest position being 103rd) - 'O hero, kahan beech mein ghus rahe ho? Line mein khade raho!' And I think to myself - how can these people even think of breaking lines - not all in this world are lucky enough to be blessed with such long queues.

My love for queues transcends terrestrial bounds. Whenever I choose to travel by flight, I just cannot wait until the 'Fasten your seatbelt' sign is turned off. As soon as the plane lands on the ground, and taxies towards the terminal, I get up from my seat, pick up my bag from the overhead compartment and driven by instinct, go and wait by the door. Many a times, my co passengers have taken cue and lined up behind me, painting worried looks on the flight attendants' faces in the process. Even at the airport lounge, I don't prefer sitting in the comfortable seats and enjoying a brief siesta - the real joy is in queuing up at the boarding desk. In the flight itself, I don't prefer waiting for the restroom to be vacant before proceeding towards it - half the relief is in waiting in a line at the door itself. Besides, if I were to be sent to the moon some day, I am sure I would be waiting in a queue by at the space shuttle's exit right from take off. And right after getting off, I would be queuing up to board for the return journey.

Thus is my unconditional love for queues. And remember, even when you see me standing alone, I am just initiating a wannabe queue.

Ji Bilkul

"Chalo beta aaj ladki dekhne jaana hai! Tayaar ho jaao!"

As I had earlier mentioned on this blog, going home has become quite rare for me these days, and as a result I find myself facing huge backlogs when it comes to being up to date with familial matters. I came to know last week that one of my distant cousins, who happens to be almost the same age as me, was getting engaged to his childhood sweetheart the day before. 'What's the hurry yaar', I asked him as I called him up as soon as I reached home that day, 'Why do you want to spoil something that's going well for you!' The problem with all my cousins, elders included, is that they fail to appreciate my deep and well found insights into intriguing matters of human concern; my remarks are routinely taken jokingly at face value, and when I reiterate that I am serious, I inadvertently manage to cause some eyebrows to be raised. No wonder that my cousin chided me for this ground breaking suggestion of mine and said 'Bachhu, tujhe jab kisi se pyaar hoga tab tu samjhega! Teri shaadi ka time ab dur nahi hai! Tu bhi koi dhund le.'

I am sure he was joking about that 'teri shaadi' part, and more so, the 'dhund le' remark. I am confident that I will never be able to find the right life partner for myself, and hence I have never even tried to. But that brilliant sally my cousin used against me struck some hitherto hidden cord in my parents' minds, and I found myself hearing these lines yesterday -

"Beta, ab tumhari shaadi ke baare mein bhi sochna chahiye. Ye bache bhi kitni jaldi badhe ho jaate hain! Tumhare liye ek achaa rishta aaya hai, kal ladki waalon ke ghar jaana hai. Chalo tayaari mein lag jaao tum!"

I don't normally swear these days, and never would even dream of doing it in the presence of my parents. But this sudden shock managed to squeeze out a 'WTF' from my mouth, causing some more eyebrows to be raised. 'I have not even graduated from college yet!' was all that I managed to utter. What I really wanted to tell them was that I am in no mood to marry so early,that I haven't even met the right girl yet, that I won't marry before I settle down nicely into my consulting job, that I don't want an arranged marriage etc. But the best that I could come up with was that I haven't even graduated yet.

"Koi jaldi nahi hai, wo ladki bhi abhi student hai. Agar ab baat ban jaaye to tum donon aaram se apne man se shaadi kar lo. Koi jaldi nahi hai. Agle saal bhi chalega. Tab tak baaki tayari kar lenge hum," they replied.

Still a student! I was sure the poor girl would have no idea of the kind of activities our families were involved in. I then told my parents some of the points I just mentioned above in an attempt to make them see sense but to no avail. It seemed as if my cousin had just opened the floodgates for female bio-datas and horoscopes to rush into my (barren?) life.

After further attempts at trying to avoid the inevitable, I found myself getting ready for the 'ladki dekhne jaana hai' ceremony. I was told to wear the 'naya shirt liya tha na tumne abhi placements ke liye' and was forced to get a neat haircut and a decent shave. To tell you frankly, I hadn't personally cared as much for my appearance for my campus placements. But then I thought perhaps this ladki dekhna is some highly sacred ritual in the eyes of my family (and her too) so I went ahead with it just to make them happy. After an hour of enduring a painful and bumpy auto ride in a typical sweltering Mumbai-Sunday-afternoon, and another half of asking for directions we finally reached the 'ladki waalon ka ghar'.

A knock knock later I found myself facing this huge towering Aunty dressed in what looked an expensive, but sadly overdone saree and overloaded with (fake?) gold jewelery. 'Arey aaiye aaiye, hum aapki hi raah dekh rahe the. Ghar dhundne mein taklif to nahi hui na?' she demanded. Now the kind of guy that I am, who can just manage a 'but I haven't graduated yet' in front of my own parents, to no one's surprise, managed a humble 'bilkul nahi' in the all encompassing presence (laterally) of this Aunty. I could not even imagine how I could later call her 'Mummy' or 'Aai' or whatever name she was addressed by her daughter.

After a couple of minutes of was-and-whens and how-do-you-dos, we were served overly sweet tea and super oily samosas. The sight of this fat-saturated-meal gave me that 'Aha!' moment - the sort I get when I make such discoveries of the causes of some phenomena that I notice in nature (I didn't know what one calls such moments until Sagar pointed out this term to me yesterday; he tells me that there is a well defined term for this, but he doesn't remember the name now and chooses to call them 'Aha!' moments - well, this name works just fine for me). Anyway, getting back to the point, I partook of the diabetic tea and was nibbling at the 'samosa' (notice the quotes. They are there for a purpose) and then entered the 'girl' (No purpose here though). I am no good judge of girls, but from what I've seen and known, I could tell that she is a very good girl, beautiful, smart and with a good nature. Trust your parents on these issues. 'Hmm, not bad. Perhaps I should think of saying yes. I can then fearlessly date this damsel for a couple of years, all the while knowing that she shall be mine finally.'

My dreams were turning out to be just right when came in, umm, (to be kind) let me say an 'extended miniature version of the aforementioned Aunty'. This new entrant and the Aunty comfortably settled in into a couch (that I feel could have easily seated 4 my size). After the usual 'Aur beta tum kya kar rahe ho aaj kal?' and 'Bahut acha ladka hai humara', the Aunty said this - 'To aapko humaari Bindya pasand aayi?' with a huge grin that to me felt like a threatening smirk that screamed out - 'You better say yes or else...'

Wait! Bindya? I thought you introduced that damsel as Sapna. I was about to raise this basic doubt when I saw the new entrant blushing and smiling and shifting around in her place (took mighty efforts, that shifting I tell you - I pity the poor couch). Oh My God! This is Bindya?! I looked towards my parents. They looked equally shocked to me. My mom was almost telling me 'Ye kaise hua? Hume bhi nahi pata!' with her eyes. It so was that Bindya was the elder daughter, and the Aunty was hoping to dump her on my shoulders - she literally looked a burden to me. But thankfully my parents stood their ground and for once supported me in what looked like a lost cause to me. The Aunty was disappointed it didn't work out. I noticed that Sapna never even chose to throw a passing glance towards me in the midst of all this debate. And so too Bindya. 'Must have overdone my dressing style', I thought.

In the end, it turned out that the only person genuinely interested in me was the Aunty. I wouldn't have been surprised had she tried to elope with me in the same auto that we took to come there. 'Chinta mat karo beta' my Mom said as we were leaving, 'Aur bhi ache rishte aayenge.' 'Haan beta chinta mat karo, hum hai na', added my Dad. 'Oh please don't. Let me live my life. (Though I don't mind coming back here for Sapna). Next time let me handle this business, and please for heaven's sake don't choose a family obsessed with cooking oil and sugar!' - my mind was screaming out. But sadly, the only thing that I could tell them aloud was -

"Ji bilkul."

Had an affair once you know

(This again from my old blog. Happens to be my favourite piece among all those that I have written)

Ever since V-day, there has been much talk and speculation among my batchmates as to whether I have a girlfriend or not. So much so has been the debate, that I felt I should tell them all about an affair I once had (something for them to cheer about :D). And what better place to disclose the truth than this blog of mine... Well here goes...

Just a word of caution though - if you begin reading this post from the next line onwards, better read it till the end to avoid misunderstanding later :P. Whatever has been mentioned here is true to the best of my knowledge and belief :D

It was way back in my first year at IIT. Was a noob out here back then, confused (still am to some extent) and awestruck by this wonderful place. Never had the pleasure of having someone special in my life till then. It was sometime back then, on some cursed day that year, that I came to know of this wonderful creation of the Creator. The whole bunch of first yearites were praising her amazing looks and divine features. I must mention here that I wasn't the type of kid who cared about all this; but I thought 'What the heck! Let me check her out at least.... sure that won't hurt'. And that happened to be a huge mistake. I was spellbound by her beauty, her charm... Could never take my eyes off her. Spent many sleepless nights thinking about her, imagining what wonderful things we could do...

And so I took the chance. I approached her as a good seedha-saadha boy, and let out my feelings. Fortunately or unfortunately, she was amused and gave me the green signal. So foolish I was back then, that I was thrilled and glad to have this special someone in my life. We spent many wonderful days in each other's company. It was such a joy being with her; I gave up other good things in my life just to be with her always. We secretly used to meet at the Computer Center at IIT (CC as it was popularly known, still stands as a monument symbolising this love story I once had), sometimes late at night, on pretext of a C++ course project we had back then. (Left all the coding for the project to my groupmates, all for the rendezvous with my love). Even she didn't mind this and always would be there waiting for me. I now feel that I should have worked more on that project back then; at least would be somewhat conversant with C++ now if I had done that. But no use crying over spilt milk - I chose to be with her and that was it.

Our's wasn't a visit-smile-talk-leave relationship; was much more intimate than that. Everytime I entered her, I would find a whole new universe waiting for me inside her - to explore and appreciate. I was so blinded by her beauty that I never realised how she was using me to grow her network of acquaintances. When I was quite seriously involved in this relationship did I come to know of her other side. She was a hooker - trapping poor kids like me in her web of lust and using us all to get to know more people. The bitch was aware that we knew; but still continued with such activities. I was shattered - to see someone I so loved destroying so many lives. I immediately broke up with her, and warned all the others I knew about to do so too. But lo! many of them were so misled by her charming features - they never came out of it. Some poor souls I know still are involved with her, and are wasting their lives so.

So this was it - a failed relationship with a bitch who still hasn't improved. Now-a-days her activities have gathered much momentum, and I hear that many people are ever being attracted to her. Oh what a waste of life! would have been so good for me had she never entered my life at all... I have not lied a bit about the relation we once had. The truth is laid bare before you. You may choose to judge me on the basis of all this if you choose to; I can't stop you from doing that. But before I sign off, let me tell you her name; so that at least you may keep away from her. This bitch happens to be someone you all might know as Orkut.com.

Motivation?

(This from my old blog)

What we have been told is a motivating gesture may be flak after all. A well put up disguise to mislead us poor souls into believing something unintuitive to be something implying a greater deeper meaning, that never seems to surface up and after trying a few times, you sort of accept the crowd's take on the issue. Here are some insights that may raise a few eyebrows:

1. Birds always prefer flying in a group. Its a fact that the draft of one bird's movement aids that of the other. But is that really so? To me, this is a perfect example of the fact that even in nature, teamwork leads to collective laziness.

2. Consistency is a virtue say wise men. Well, it only is so if you aren't a complete loser and to top it, amazingly consistent too.

3. We are always told to 'spread out our wings and dream of flying to reach greater heights'. True; coz if you try landing, that can only be in the real world.

4. Early bird gets the worm. Don't let the worms know about this.

5. We are told there always is room at the top. But it isn't a great feeling looking down from that lonely place. What's more fun is to look down upon others standing down here.

6. All know it takes 43 muscles to frown and 17 to smile. But no one tells you keeping that dumb look going needs nothing at all.

7. A small raindrop is instrumental in making up the ocean. But come floods and no drop wants to share the blame.

8. None of us is as dumb as all of us.

9. Every dark cloud has a silver lightning. Try to hunt that lightning and it strikes you dead.

10. Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. And it rocks as well too.

11. It hurts to admit your mistakes. When they are big, the pain usually is short lived.

12. We are told to try and try till we succeed. No one tells us that we should stop at a certain stage to avoid looking dumber.

13. Never interrupt someone working. It pays to stand away from a competitive jerk and his goals.

14. Team comes first. But there comes a stage where each member should make individual sacrifices.

15. We are told hardwork never killed anyone. Well, its just prolonging the inevitable.

16. If you feel you are lonely, then you are not alone. There are plenty of people just like you. But still, you are alone.

17. Hardwork pays in the future, laziness does in the present.

18. The road to perfection never ends. It's more like a death march.

Go ahead and share your views (only if they agree with mine that is).

Confusion galore

It's that time in my life when I reminisce about my life here at IIT, and keep boring my friends by always telling them how much I am going to miss them and this place. When each treat ends with me becoming senti and saying that no matter where I go or what I manage to achieve in life, now is the best time in my life ever. What's sad though, is that I feel I don't have many 'interesting' incidents and experiences to take away from here. Of course my life here has been quite interesting, but not the type with the apostrophes. However, there is one thing that not many know about.

It was the day I got my job here on campus - 3rd December. I had taken my friend out to PopTates for a Daaru treat (those were the days before I turned teetotaler). He insisted that I would be exhausted being interviewed the whole day, and we could perhaps do this some other time. However, I wanted him to be a part of my euphoria - a part of the day that I wished then would never end. And so we went to PopTates (after happy hours at my insistence, logic being that since I now have a job, I don't need to care about saving bucks on every damn thing - of course that phase is now behind me).

After a pitcher each and a couple of 60 ml pegs of rum and a tequilla shot (the customary signing off ritual), it was time for me to take a leak :) I claim(ed) I never (used to) get drunk, no matter how much I drink, but that day was another story. It is a wonder I even remember what I am about to tell you all here. The joy of getting my dream job and all the events that day had already lightened me up, and the alcohol only added to the ecstasy, leading me on to a state of pigheadedness hitherto unknown to me. Before telling you what happened next though, let me tell you what really bugs me about restrooms these days. I am really pissed off by the signs put up to indicate the restrooms. Not like the good old days when you had the old fashioned fool proof Gents and Ladies written outside (sometimes illuminated as well). Those guys should understand that when you are as drunk as I was, it becomes rather a tedious task on the part of our brains to make out the difference between the two drawings that we see on the doors these days. Why can't you have plain text signs indicating Gents and ladies as we earlier used to? Why all the fancy artforms? Anyway, coming back to my tale, I went into what I thought was the men's room.

Now that's odd, I thought. I do know that PopTates fancies itself in being an oddity, but this is insane - why do I see only stalls here? I wondered. Where are the urinals? This place almost looks like a girl's room! I was right about PopTates being the hangout zone for gays, I thought. Guys back at hostel need to see this; this just supports my theory. So I took out my cell (I was carrying a fancy one those placement days) and started clicking pics of what I felt was the funny loo. Then the door opened.

And in came this chick - wearing what I felt then and recall now as rags in different colours, with a whole lot of make up dumped on her face. The rags seemed to be the remnants of what would have once been a nice pair of a polo shirt and trousers, the kind I wear a lot. I was sure she wouldn't have come here with another guy, coz no guy in his right senses would want to be seen around with such a joker. She saw me with a cell in my hand taking pics and screamed. I wanted to go ahead and tell her, 'Hello behenji, even though I am sure you are gender confused, the men's room is not where you belong. Secondly, it is I who should be making a din out here seeing such a scary sight, and not you.' But before I could do that, she asked 'You loafer, you pervert - don't you feel ashamed sneaking into the girl's room this way? Security bulaaun kya? Get out!' The girl's room! I am indeed in the girl's room! So PopTates isn't gay; what's more, I have been caught inside a girl's room. And if that's not all, I have been seen taking pics with my cellphone here! (Why does it always have to be me?)

I had to think fast to save my butt here, and also to avoid embarrassment (Don't want such things to come up during my profile reading in our hostel valfi - IITianese for valedictory function). The thing I like about getting drunk is that my mind starts running faster and can come up with the most creative ideas that I cannot even imagine when I am sober. I figured out that this chick was pretty drunk and I could use this fact to my benefit. 'What do you mean get out, idiot? You enter the wrong restroom and then shout at me? The nerve of some people! Now get lost before I call in someone.' Perhaps she wasn't as drunk as I had imagined. She said, 'Wait I'll show you, you pervert,' and immediately started screaming out for help and called out loud for security. What the heck I thought; I don't want to be left behind and started screaming out equally loudly, all the while saying that there is a ghost in the loo.

After about a minute or so of screaming, a strong well built dude in an uniform labeled 'PopTates' turned up with a girl in a suit. They were shocked to see me with my cell phone and that ghost in rags in the same room. 'What is going on out here?' asked the suit. 'Well, you tell me what is going on,' said the ghost, 'What are such perverts allowed to do messing around out here? Is this what you call security?' Then she started screaming abuses, again that I cannot reproduce here, as I have now quit swearing as well :) The argument went on for a few minutes, with me and the dude also chipping in between often. Finally, the suit had enough of her, and said 'Madam I have to ask you to leave now.' 'Oh I should leave now should I? How much does this loafer pay you for all these perverted acts huh? You don't know who I am - I just have to make one phone call and this place will be closed down - shut. Do you get me? Leave my foot!' 'Okay that's it, Raghu please take this lady outside.' 'Don't you dare touch me! You are not allowed to touch me!' 'Oh the hell he is, Raghu baahar le jaao inko'.

After Raghu was done pulling that cartoon, who was not yet done bitching, outside the restroom, I turned to the suit and said, 'Thank you.' 'Please don't mention it sir, I am sorry for all the trouble you have had to face. It shall not be repeated I assure you. Have a good time.' As she was leaving, I asked 'Hey are you not going to do anything about the fact that I wrongly entered the girl's room? I am sorry I was too drunk to notice actually.' She laughed out loud, 'Oh no sir, this isn't the girl's room. What made you think that it was?' 'Well, I don't see the urinals here, so I sort of figured out that this should be it.' She again gave me a smile and said, 'Well, that's because it's under renovation; we had those removed last week and the new ones are not here yet! We have put up a notice outside apologizing for the inconvenience.' 'Oh I never noticed it!' 'Well, it happens. Sometimes our customers are too drunk to notice it. Good thing we use the symbols on the doors though. They never fail us! Imagine the confusion we would have if we stuck to the old Gents and Ladies signs!'

:|