My Lord I have come here with a question, an accusation and a grievance.
Put your case in front of the Jury and Justice shall prevail, echoed the vast room.
Very well, I started my case:
Respected members of Jury, I have come here to accuse the guilty of Attempt to Murder.
Attempt to murder the very software industry which gives them their bread,
Attempt to murder the mutual trust which people put in them,
Attempt to murder the sacred cow that they were asked to guard, they have misrepresented the country that they live in, because in a world of rapid globalisation people have started to accuse us Indians with their traits. They have started to believe that Indians are cheats, crooks and liars. They dont honour their commitments, respected Jury I ask you today, isn't this the land where millions gave their lives in the line of courage just to honour their commitments. "Pran jaaye par vachan naa jaaye" so goes the adage, which means I might lose my live but I wont dishonour my commitment.
A project manager ceases to be an ideal, an example in front of the team who everybody wants to emulate. Today nobody wants to be like his Project Manager, because he is the most spineless guy in the team, he is the person who would lie in the face of lie even. "I wrote you a mail about this", " But I thought you said you were not well yesterday", "Yes i wrote you that mail at 2 'o clock at night while I was on my way to hospital". This is the typical conversation he would have when he is talking to the client. Sitting behind you, he would go on to tell the client how he is not well and barely living on medicines and give out a fake laugh. After shamelessly praising the client for some decisions he has taken, he would gently put the phone down.
After that he would call another fellow project manager and start to boast, "Maine usski lagaa di" meaning I just screwed the guy and would go on to add how he has told him not to mess with any of his colleagues and he is a fool etc etc. He in every word of it ails with Dual Identity disorder.
I have seen and heard a lot of HR policies regarding how you should not talk in derogatory language with your managers and always wondered who would do such a thing. But after seeing such people I have come to realise why these policies were framed in first place. I fail to understand how a project which is never critical from morning 8-4 suddenly starts getting critical when evening comes and its time to stay late. These people make a perception and impress over people that if you are not staying after office hours, you are not at all concerned with the project. why dont they work during office hours and why they cant complete their work within office hours. Now they have mdae the world think that Indians are incompetent people who cannot complete their work in time but they dont respect their family life, so they still spend more time in office trying to do what entire world completes within office hours. While in India the who's who would be sitting over together and pondering how only they are concerned about work while nobody does that in the world. So much so for "self-appreciation".
In a room with a manager everyone would make sure that they do not speak anything that might be quoted against them, while people would make sure to appreciate their managers in every possible way though they would be ready to trash him once they are out of the room. Suddnly manager's manager enters the room and situation changes, the manager would don the mantle of follower and suddenly everyone else becomes trivial in the room. The topic of conversations change and everything is meant to please the BIG BOSS. The unctuarity just assumes mammoth proportion.
Sunday, 18 March 2012
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Saint Valentine in land of Kaamsutra
Indians are compulsive celebrators, they love to celebrate almost everything under the sun. So if you meet them and tell them that this is a particular day, they would spare no time in latching on to the time and celebrating. Infact i feel, most of the time we ask for days later but start the celebrations before that. We already have innumerable festivals, but when a new day called valentines day came to the fore, we thought to ourselves 'what the heck' and started celebrating it. So the businessmen starts thinking how to screw the money out of the pockets through a new day, young guys not in love turn to beer, young married couples turn to wine, lots of gifts flock the market, roses are aplenty and they are not just monochrome but plurality of the colours in the flowers and their derived meanings are enormous.
Humne jabse hosh sambhaala...pyar k baare mein bahut suna...pyaar kyaa hota hain kaise hota hain kiss tarah sey issey dur rehna chahiye...kaise pyaar ek baar zaroor karna chahiye...pyaar kiya nahii jaata ho jaata hain.
Pyaar ko leke bahut kitaabein hain humaare saahitya mein...har doosri movie kii central theme pyaar hoti hain humaare yahaan. bachpan sey jawaani takk pyaar k kaseede padey kisse suney magar pyaar nahii kiya.
Kyaa kare Har doosri ladki sey pyaar ho jaata thha, karne kii zaroorat nahi padhi, fir humne dil ko samjhaaya pyaar yehh nahii hota. Logo sey sunaa pyaar wohh hota hain jissme aap ghanto fone pey lagey rehte hain, din ko sham aur shaam ko subah samajhne lagte hain, Jab din bhar aapko uss phone kii gantii bajne ka intezaar rehta hain, jab aapko apneaap ko paagal kehlaane mein garv mehsoos hota hain.
Humne apne aap ko samjhaaya k vyangya rass k kawi hone k naate humein pyaar karne kaa hak nahii fir dekha jab poori duniya pyaar mein doobi hui hain tohh socha hum kyun nahii. Soca chalo yeh shauk bhii sahii, aakhir hum bhii pyaar karke dekhe. Dekhne mein masha allah hum bhii kam nahii thhe aur ek haseen mohtarma kii kamii thhi. Tohh humne apnii talaash shuru karii, aur shubh muhurat nikaala gaya Valentines day. Humne socha jab chhote langot pehne uss nange Cupid ney duniya kii icchayein poori kari tohh humaari bhii karega. Kya karey thhe bhii tohh hum christian school sey, Moral science kii class mein Jesus sey leke St. Paul, St. Peter, St. Francis aur St. dominic tohh bahut padhaya magar saint valentine ke baare mein kisi ney humein nahii bataya. Par aakhir kalyug aa hii gaya jab St valentine ney humaare kaamsutra ke desh mein badi ummeedon ke saath pravesh kia.
Lekin stakes bahut high thhe, hum tohh hamesha FOSLA(Frustrated One-Sided Lovers Association) ke sarve sarva rahe, aur aaj agar Valentine day pey laal gulaab leke baahar jaayenge tohh duniya humare baare mein kya sochegi. Samaj mein humaari bahut izzat thhi aur college roopi samaj ke thekedaar samjhe jaate thhe, aise mein kahin yehh logon ko khula vidroh tohh nahii lagega jaisi baatein dimaag mein ghoomne lagii.
To Be continued...... Kramasha...
Humne jabse hosh sambhaala...pyar k baare mein bahut suna...pyaar kyaa hota hain kaise hota hain kiss tarah sey issey dur rehna chahiye...kaise pyaar ek baar zaroor karna chahiye...pyaar kiya nahii jaata ho jaata hain.
Pyaar ko leke bahut kitaabein hain humaare saahitya mein...har doosri movie kii central theme pyaar hoti hain humaare yahaan. bachpan sey jawaani takk pyaar k kaseede padey kisse suney magar pyaar nahii kiya.
Kyaa kare Har doosri ladki sey pyaar ho jaata thha, karne kii zaroorat nahi padhi, fir humne dil ko samjhaaya pyaar yehh nahii hota. Logo sey sunaa pyaar wohh hota hain jissme aap ghanto fone pey lagey rehte hain, din ko sham aur shaam ko subah samajhne lagte hain, Jab din bhar aapko uss phone kii gantii bajne ka intezaar rehta hain, jab aapko apneaap ko paagal kehlaane mein garv mehsoos hota hain.
Humne apne aap ko samjhaaya k vyangya rass k kawi hone k naate humein pyaar karne kaa hak nahii fir dekha jab poori duniya pyaar mein doobi hui hain tohh socha hum kyun nahii. Soca chalo yeh shauk bhii sahii, aakhir hum bhii pyaar karke dekhe. Dekhne mein masha allah hum bhii kam nahii thhe aur ek haseen mohtarma kii kamii thhi. Tohh humne apnii talaash shuru karii, aur shubh muhurat nikaala gaya Valentines day. Humne socha jab chhote langot pehne uss nange Cupid ney duniya kii icchayein poori kari tohh humaari bhii karega. Kya karey thhe bhii tohh hum christian school sey, Moral science kii class mein Jesus sey leke St. Paul, St. Peter, St. Francis aur St. dominic tohh bahut padhaya magar saint valentine ke baare mein kisi ney humein nahii bataya. Par aakhir kalyug aa hii gaya jab St valentine ney humaare kaamsutra ke desh mein badi ummeedon ke saath pravesh kia.
Lekin stakes bahut high thhe, hum tohh hamesha FOSLA(Frustrated One-Sided Lovers Association) ke sarve sarva rahe, aur aaj agar Valentine day pey laal gulaab leke baahar jaayenge tohh duniya humare baare mein kya sochegi. Samaj mein humaari bahut izzat thhi aur college roopi samaj ke thekedaar samjhe jaate thhe, aise mein kahin yehh logon ko khula vidroh tohh nahii lagega jaisi baatein dimaag mein ghoomne lagii.
To Be continued...... Kramasha...
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Aur beta shaadi kab kar rahe ho...
Yaar shaadi kab karega....
abbe kar ley buddha ho jaayega tab karega kyaa...
dekh lo Nitin shaadi kar lo warna ladki nahii milegi.
Your Life or Mine....
Thats the perfect fodder for conversations with people. Its been some years now and I have noticed that people have become a lot bolder in their interactions. I mean, just tell me isnt it often when a guy walks up to you and gives a sneezy joke about your life, your interests, your age, height, weight, bag, shoes, t-shirt, jeans, hair, brother, sister, family, MARRIAGE, and yaa above all the favourite question of everybody "Whats your salary?".
WTF....I mean what have you got to do with my salary or with anything I do. Its my life and I might as well screw it if i want, but hey wasn't this MY life? and what part of the word "M Y" do people not understand.
The fact is guys, face it or not, society has turned more hypocritical and more aggressive to a man's existence. People often term this as a "friendly" advise but i hear this often. Fact is none of this seems to be friendly to me. Its the same "I dont eat Ice-creams for my teeth but why does he get to eat them every day" syndrome. I remember some time back we were suffering from "Uski shirt meri shirt sey safed kaise(How is his shirt more white than mine)" syndrome and we have moved on. But now it has led to more bigger, more wily syndrome. I have seen guys which would be suffering from either one of them and its so refreshing to meet those rare rare friends who have still retained that "Sahi Aish kar raha hain Yaa tuu" syndrome.
Wake up guys, worry about your own life, Leave your friends alone, believe me they would do just fine. More than that I feel everybody needs to live his life as life is pretty short but try and keep away from others as you might encroach on a very very private space, which is getting scarcer and scarcer, these days.
Yaar shaadi kab karega....
abbe kar ley buddha ho jaayega tab karega kyaa...
dekh lo Nitin shaadi kar lo warna ladki nahii milegi.
Your Life or Mine....
Thats the perfect fodder for conversations with people. Its been some years now and I have noticed that people have become a lot bolder in their interactions. I mean, just tell me isnt it often when a guy walks up to you and gives a sneezy joke about your life, your interests, your age, height, weight, bag, shoes, t-shirt, jeans, hair, brother, sister, family, MARRIAGE, and yaa above all the favourite question of everybody "Whats your salary?".
WTF....I mean what have you got to do with my salary or with anything I do. Its my life and I might as well screw it if i want, but hey wasn't this MY life? and what part of the word "M Y" do people not understand.
The fact is guys, face it or not, society has turned more hypocritical and more aggressive to a man's existence. People often term this as a "friendly" advise but i hear this often. Fact is none of this seems to be friendly to me. Its the same "I dont eat Ice-creams for my teeth but why does he get to eat them every day" syndrome. I remember some time back we were suffering from "Uski shirt meri shirt sey safed kaise(How is his shirt more white than mine)" syndrome and we have moved on. But now it has led to more bigger, more wily syndrome. I have seen guys which would be suffering from either one of them and its so refreshing to meet those rare rare friends who have still retained that "Sahi Aish kar raha hain Yaa tuu" syndrome.
Wake up guys, worry about your own life, Leave your friends alone, believe me they would do just fine. More than that I feel everybody needs to live his life as life is pretty short but try and keep away from others as you might encroach on a very very private space, which is getting scarcer and scarcer, these days.
Friday, 27 August 2010
ALMA MATER...1st Note
Everyone owes something to their alma-mater so i thought why not write something about it. I always hear people telling me that their college was amazing and was the best college experience anybody might have had and i remain quiet to them. I know everyone is obliged to feel that the time they spent at college was THE BEST...but aa far as i am concerned i dont have words for the experience i had, because seriously i am short of words for it...as it can never be put on words....it was a place where somehow every guy was above average, not great mind you, so its a place where Anil Kumar Bairwa becomes Barry....where sameep jung pandey becomes sandeep john....nd an unsuspecting foreigner who has stepped foot in India for the first time becomes Bhusand from allistair....people call him anything that comes to mind and i still wonder how he got that name---Kabootar....I know every college is incomplete without the mention of its ragging so i would start with a small mention of ours. I still remember our first 'CALL' in which me mangla nd vibhor went together...A senior nonchalantly gave mangla a pen and asked him to shove it in his ass...."Issko G**nd mein daal dey" and voila.....satyadeep maheshwari(our senior who was bending at that time to pick something from his wardrobe)jumped up at that time and gave a shriek followed by a sound of deathening slap...Suddenly everybody realised what had happened. Mangla had shovelled the pen up his ass and got a slap as return gift...nd he just said...."Boss aapne kahaa Gaa** mein dey dey....kiski yehh tohh bataya nahii..." i dont remember how many slaps i and vibhor had to face on that day because of mangla but still i just remember that shriek and the slap well enough to date which fades everything else. RHTDM came at that very time...i remember going into rooms of MP guys everyday...the room of pathak and ravi singh...where singhvi would be sitting smiling...an old transistor would be blaring...Zara Zara behekta hain mehekta hain aaj tohh mera tan badan......but dont mistake me there was no romance involved there...everybody had their faces red at that moment and they always seemed they had been brutally beaten. one more incident was there which brought out the real mangal out of prashant mangla....incident was there was a custom in UP group....we had to participate in debate....with real intellectual topic. I remember Mangla pittted against baddal goyal...with topic as...."Osama Bin Laden Kahaan hain"...the only difference was they had to abuse each other and slap each other at the same time while debating....i remember baddal goyal asking mangla..."Osama bin laden kahaan hain behen k lau**" and slapped mangla nd mangla was like sehwag in opening...uthappa in last over....hayden with mongoose bat...dhoni on one down...and yusuf pathan against a spinner....he started saying mujhe kyaa pataa maa ke la**e....ndd rest were all 3-dimensional gaalis and slaps all over baddal goyal..only difference was baddal goyal after slapping mangla put his hand down but mangla just continued and he did'nt even put his hands down. Seniors were taken aback by this unexpected onslaught by mangla..they descended over turf and made mangla stop and said now we wud put him with a better opposition...and put pachaouria in front of him...i could see pachaouria trembling and rest is history. The only satisfaction badddal goyal had that he atleast had one opening slap. Whoever got in mangoose way got a real hard day.the only person who put down mangla with efficient ease was dangar(for records and factual detail his name is Avijit Pawar)i remember him getting hold of mangla's face and pressing him against the wall as if he is ironing his clothes. I remember Chaurasia(Hostel warden and very respected teacher...latest rumour had it that mrinal's dad used to send a suitcase full of money to his house to get yaadav(name Mrinal Prasad) passed every year...)so Chaurasia was educating everybody in hostel that they should keep the hostel clean and throw the garbage only in garbage cans specifically put in the cor....by the time he could finish his sentence to say corner...a polythene filled of garbage of our room came flying from our room down the sky and every body who saw it has vivid descriptions of how it landed on chaurasia's head which was actually thrown by mangal to keep the room clean out of the window....and when chaurasia shouted asking him to come down he was lecturing us on how to keep room clean and hrow garbage cans in time down on the ground floor......To be continued....
ALMA MATER...2nd Note
Ok so now is the time to mention few people who always came second in my priority. Mind you second never means that they were less in prority but every guy had a group in which they used to sit together and then there was a peer group. These were my classmates with whom i shared better part of my five year sojourn. I did never rate them heavily when i met them earlier but as i lived with them i just got a glimpse of what they all were and as they say again, rest is history. We lived, laughed, cried, boozed(i was passively involved off-course), blamed each other for everything bad, claimed credit for everything good, burnt all the midnight oil, failed miserably in matching the girls and day-schi's, bunked classes almost everyday, spent entire day at GMP(some say its general meeting place, others claim it is Gaa**u Mishthan Bhandar...which was just a canteen after all) spent entire night at thadi, every night was a night-out every day was an italian day with naps spread all around. So many would ask what was our lifestyle all about, we woke up around 11 in the morning, sat in GMP for an hour where we drank tea and read newspaper...then we wud see all day schi's coming to GMP after attending morning classes and sayng the same dialogue..."Saalon tum aaj bhii collg nahii aaye...nd some lecturer baying for our blood" they always hated us....everybody, teachers girls day schi's everybody....why???
i havent been able to figure out but yaa i always saw a sense of dsappointment in all those eyes when we did what we were not supposed to do. I am not talking about breaking rules here because we were supposed to do that. But yaa someday coming to collg with such a work that everybody was found sulking and gulping. Anyways let bygones be bygones. we were a class of 26- 20 beasts and 6 apparent beauties, i never disputed their claims to the beauty they had but anyways lets drop the topic. When i was filling admission forms, i had a girl filling her forms with her parents whose parents were top-shots in architecture and they all seem focussed. For me and my dad, it was just a family tradition of the son making it to a good government college, NITs as they were but architecture what...as if i cared. when i saw that girl, i was of the opinion that this would be the duskiest darkest...yaa i know guys call it whatever one important lesson that i had to learn in college was that the world was running behind dusky girls.
But the biggest disadvantage was that due to forms being filled and my college having a silly format of admission i got my roll number just next to her and i was branded as a guy who came just before THE Legendary bansri gandhi....however hard i might have worked i always got a hard deal. When i got to the class it was a strange mix of guys, but i just hit on with two of the guys.
I still remember the day and the way i met Sameep. I had joined late in college and the day i went, I noticed the girls of my class were practising for some cultural event in college and this guy was just watching them intently. I went close to him and tried to inquire what was he watching with such an interest. He told me very sweetly with a smile on his face “I love to see girls dancing”.
I just laughed the day out remembering what he said. i saw a lot of that guy and still to date remain inspired with his simplistic and holistic approach to things and life in general. In years to come, i noticed that he fell for a girl, who i never felt was attractive, but i was always puzzled by intense following of this girl by this guy who by know was a friend of mine. What surprised me that this girl who was dusky by all standards and my friend were of stark contrast in looks as he was a nepali with all chinki looks.
But i never understood his dusky orientations, I was a typical northii grown amidst all sort of beautiful girls who had that makkhan looks as we always said, so when i got hyderabad as my joining location I thought i would be the only good looking guy around. As i started my stint, it was my first exposure to Gulti’s as they are called and that was the first time when i actually started noticing and learning why sameep was always attracted to dusk.
But enough of that later, the other guy who completed our "Fucking Tripod" as we called it was navendu, some claim that i made him famous because his room was in 2nd floor while mine was on first floor with at least a distance of 100m in diagonal. But i used to shout his name at the top of my voice and everybody gt to know a guy named navendu in collg.Apart from that this man was a machine and he used to work a lot....and expected everybody to work that much as well.
Then i met a guy called bibhu who was never serious in his life for anything except movies and sleep. i learned from him how to let life pass and watch it. He taught me how life was not a movie in which you had to act all the time but a movie which needed to be watched as well to enjoy it completely.
Anyways this post has glorified a lot of mortals so keeping with the tradition of my notes i would slip in a story. this story is called 55-56(pachpan chhappan). This was in our final year when we started getting messages from this number, which was famously called pachpan chhapan. the entire batch got messages on their phone numbers in a group sms in which very personal things were mentioned. we got messsages when we were discussing things in our rooms and stuffs like that. The english that was in use was some english which ruled out all choms in one go and we were very sure that no rajasthani could be involved in it. First guess was the kind of english that was used it had to be a girl who had decided to mess with us. Yashpal had even named her sonia, there was no sonia in our class or college, but he felt that when he was recieving a message he would as well keep her name as Sonia in his cell, at least he got to feel great about it. Then there were guys who wud just message her all kind of gaalis from morning to evening. Intodia who used to call from PCO's and when nobody replied he used to say, dekho main jaanta hoon tum girls hostel sey bol rahi ho, ek baar bass ek baar mujhe batao kaun ho tumm usske baad main sab sambhaal loonga koi tumhe pareshaan nahii karega. The incident had come to such a boil that we were frustrated by it and it went on for around a month. and here were a bunch of guys who thought they were smartest in the college and somebody was playing big and making them a jackass. one thing that we got sure of in time to come was that it was nobody from us as everybody was agonised in our bach wth it. then we decided it was end of it and we all stopped replying, some days passed, the person had to make a move. One night we got such a message that suspicion went to amit sarawat who lived in 3rd hostel so we all went from hostel-1 to 3rd hostel to nab him red-handed. But he was watching a movie and it didnt seem that he was involved. dejected when we were returning we were drinking water at the water cooler, and then we saw Meel nd Himanshu coming(both were our dayschi's juniors) we just casually asked them k arre bhai itnii raat mein tum yahaan kaise...to which himashu replied..."55-56 ko dhoondne aaye hain", we all laughed about it and went back to hostel. in hostel as soon as everybody gets into the room and closes their latch suddenly the entire hostel beeped with message tune, tididi tididi....nd the message was, "u know why he said...55-56 ko dhoondne aaye hain?" we all had our adrenaline raising and the message gave us all goosebumps. We sensed something serious, at this point sumer said,(Sumer singh katewa, jaat from jhunjhunu, guy who ur mom must hav always said keep away from) have u seen the movie SAW...in that 3 guys r lying on the ground and their is a pool of blood and there is one dead-body and finally the dead body wakes up. He had an idea that something bad was going to happen and what if the guy murdered someone and threw the sim away. \we all were scared to death at that point. Meel nd himanshu were called at tat very instnce and we played pressure game with them. Both of them were very apologetic and they said they wud never do it with us, meel personally promised to nail saraswat who was our main culprit. For which he next day was standing outside the window of saraswat to get some clues when saraswat unknowingly gargled over his head. Meel was pretty sure it was not sarswat and we got a message saying it was the last day and after that 55-56 wud throw its sim. at night Vikrant(most notorius day schi of our batch)also stayed in hostel and we tried a lot but were not able to nab it by 12...we were standing disappointed in ground, When yashpal comes nd says...yehh kiska phone hain bencho...mere room pey kissne chhoda bencho...i said it was mine....i without thinkin picked the fone and dialled the number of 55-56 to which it displayed ANUPAM-SUMER.....now about these guys, these guys come from sikar and jhunjhunu, both were rajsthanis and they didnt had a clue abt english. So we stupids never suspected them, they always roamed together so much so that their names were anupam sumer as they were always together and we never noticed that all this while only one of them was in room with us while other stayed at room nd messaged through dictionary feature, which gave them good words. This was the bigest dupe we had in our college time and 55-56 became famous forever.
i havent been able to figure out but yaa i always saw a sense of dsappointment in all those eyes when we did what we were not supposed to do. I am not talking about breaking rules here because we were supposed to do that. But yaa someday coming to collg with such a work that everybody was found sulking and gulping. Anyways let bygones be bygones. we were a class of 26- 20 beasts and 6 apparent beauties, i never disputed their claims to the beauty they had but anyways lets drop the topic. When i was filling admission forms, i had a girl filling her forms with her parents whose parents were top-shots in architecture and they all seem focussed. For me and my dad, it was just a family tradition of the son making it to a good government college, NITs as they were but architecture what...as if i cared. when i saw that girl, i was of the opinion that this would be the duskiest darkest...yaa i know guys call it whatever one important lesson that i had to learn in college was that the world was running behind dusky girls.
But the biggest disadvantage was that due to forms being filled and my college having a silly format of admission i got my roll number just next to her and i was branded as a guy who came just before THE Legendary bansri gandhi....however hard i might have worked i always got a hard deal. When i got to the class it was a strange mix of guys, but i just hit on with two of the guys.
I still remember the day and the way i met Sameep. I had joined late in college and the day i went, I noticed the girls of my class were practising for some cultural event in college and this guy was just watching them intently. I went close to him and tried to inquire what was he watching with such an interest. He told me very sweetly with a smile on his face “I love to see girls dancing”.
I just laughed the day out remembering what he said. i saw a lot of that guy and still to date remain inspired with his simplistic and holistic approach to things and life in general. In years to come, i noticed that he fell for a girl, who i never felt was attractive, but i was always puzzled by intense following of this girl by this guy who by know was a friend of mine. What surprised me that this girl who was dusky by all standards and my friend were of stark contrast in looks as he was a nepali with all chinki looks.
But i never understood his dusky orientations, I was a typical northii grown amidst all sort of beautiful girls who had that makkhan looks as we always said, so when i got hyderabad as my joining location I thought i would be the only good looking guy around. As i started my stint, it was my first exposure to Gulti’s as they are called and that was the first time when i actually started noticing and learning why sameep was always attracted to dusk.
But enough of that later, the other guy who completed our "Fucking Tripod" as we called it was navendu, some claim that i made him famous because his room was in 2nd floor while mine was on first floor with at least a distance of 100m in diagonal. But i used to shout his name at the top of my voice and everybody gt to know a guy named navendu in collg.Apart from that this man was a machine and he used to work a lot....and expected everybody to work that much as well.
Then i met a guy called bibhu who was never serious in his life for anything except movies and sleep. i learned from him how to let life pass and watch it. He taught me how life was not a movie in which you had to act all the time but a movie which needed to be watched as well to enjoy it completely.
Anyways this post has glorified a lot of mortals so keeping with the tradition of my notes i would slip in a story. this story is called 55-56(pachpan chhappan). This was in our final year when we started getting messages from this number, which was famously called pachpan chhapan. the entire batch got messages on their phone numbers in a group sms in which very personal things were mentioned. we got messsages when we were discussing things in our rooms and stuffs like that. The english that was in use was some english which ruled out all choms in one go and we were very sure that no rajasthani could be involved in it. First guess was the kind of english that was used it had to be a girl who had decided to mess with us. Yashpal had even named her sonia, there was no sonia in our class or college, but he felt that when he was recieving a message he would as well keep her name as Sonia in his cell, at least he got to feel great about it. Then there were guys who wud just message her all kind of gaalis from morning to evening. Intodia who used to call from PCO's and when nobody replied he used to say, dekho main jaanta hoon tum girls hostel sey bol rahi ho, ek baar bass ek baar mujhe batao kaun ho tumm usske baad main sab sambhaal loonga koi tumhe pareshaan nahii karega. The incident had come to such a boil that we were frustrated by it and it went on for around a month. and here were a bunch of guys who thought they were smartest in the college and somebody was playing big and making them a jackass. one thing that we got sure of in time to come was that it was nobody from us as everybody was agonised in our bach wth it. then we decided it was end of it and we all stopped replying, some days passed, the person had to make a move. One night we got such a message that suspicion went to amit sarawat who lived in 3rd hostel so we all went from hostel-1 to 3rd hostel to nab him red-handed. But he was watching a movie and it didnt seem that he was involved. dejected when we were returning we were drinking water at the water cooler, and then we saw Meel nd Himanshu coming(both were our dayschi's juniors) we just casually asked them k arre bhai itnii raat mein tum yahaan kaise...to which himashu replied..."55-56 ko dhoondne aaye hain", we all laughed about it and went back to hostel. in hostel as soon as everybody gets into the room and closes their latch suddenly the entire hostel beeped with message tune, tididi tididi....nd the message was, "u know why he said...55-56 ko dhoondne aaye hain?" we all had our adrenaline raising and the message gave us all goosebumps. We sensed something serious, at this point sumer said,(Sumer singh katewa, jaat from jhunjhunu, guy who ur mom must hav always said keep away from) have u seen the movie SAW...in that 3 guys r lying on the ground and their is a pool of blood and there is one dead-body and finally the dead body wakes up. He had an idea that something bad was going to happen and what if the guy murdered someone and threw the sim away. \we all were scared to death at that point. Meel nd himanshu were called at tat very instnce and we played pressure game with them. Both of them were very apologetic and they said they wud never do it with us, meel personally promised to nail saraswat who was our main culprit. For which he next day was standing outside the window of saraswat to get some clues when saraswat unknowingly gargled over his head. Meel was pretty sure it was not sarswat and we got a message saying it was the last day and after that 55-56 wud throw its sim. at night Vikrant(most notorius day schi of our batch)also stayed in hostel and we tried a lot but were not able to nab it by 12...we were standing disappointed in ground, When yashpal comes nd says...yehh kiska phone hain bencho...mere room pey kissne chhoda bencho...i said it was mine....i without thinkin picked the fone and dialled the number of 55-56 to which it displayed ANUPAM-SUMER.....now about these guys, these guys come from sikar and jhunjhunu, both were rajsthanis and they didnt had a clue abt english. So we stupids never suspected them, they always roamed together so much so that their names were anupam sumer as they were always together and we never noticed that all this while only one of them was in room with us while other stayed at room nd messaged through dictionary feature, which gave them good words. This was the bigest dupe we had in our college time and 55-56 became famous forever.
ALMA MATER...3rd Note
Their are stories and their are characters. Infact its the parapharnelia around the characters which makes stories and we would talk about the characters, guys who are always a footnote in my story but actually they are the ones who drive it. Be it first year of Mohit agarwal, who got name likes moti or chachu and he always had a brutal ragging session, after which he would probably return and tell us how vividly he got slapped 200 times and seniors said that they had finished his course of ragging and then next day they would call him again, apparently for revision of course. In all the ragging sessions there was rahul pachaouria who always got saved, because he claimed to know palmistry. One such session comes to mind, when one senior from meta(forgot his name but remember he wasnt able to reach 5 ft in life)kabeera...made us assemble in one room for the ensuing call. so we are 20 guys in one room with kabeera in there and on one bed he made 10 of us sit. Now while we were waiting he called pachaouria nd asked him to tell his fortune, pachaouria started his typical bluffs and then at one point he said, Boss aapke 3 bachche honge....lekin ek problem hain...kabeera says saale issme kyaa problem, then he says, boss ek tohh aapka hoga baaki dono kaa pata nahii... vibhor tells me after the calll that at tis point his bed started shaking vigourously and as a result 10 of us were shaking with the bed and he noticed that at the other end i was sitting. then entire room was quiet with everybody sitting quitely and not uttering a word but the bed shaking and giving a sound with every shake chu chu chu chu...and i was laughing like a maniac. dont ask me please what happened next.
Today while i was coming from office i noticed a big heat wave and deadly heat which reminded me of Jaipur and how people tried different method of keeping their rooms cold. we had our own methods, somehow i came to know of a method which was if your room was topmost, you had to pour water over the terrace over your name, well thats the theor but whats the practical implication of it, as we were on first floor and had bihari guys over our room, i used to go at night quitely fill a bucket of water and slip in the water along the floor so that our room would be not hot. Result wass good except biharis who always wondered how come they woke up to water spread all over the floor, i dont know because i could just hear them shrieking in morning, saala paani kahaan sey aa gaya bey....
people used to throw water on walls complete day so that it might make room cooler, water on mattress water on themselves, sameep with his wet towels all around him water water everywhere. But where was water, we were in rajasthan mind u...so water was scarce and biharis used to save it in their buckets which were kept in their bathroom and as they had two rooms and one bathroom they all had kept their buckets. I always used to go in morning sneak into one of the bathrooms nd then bathe..nd some bihari wud come nd shout...arre abiisek arre rahul saala kaun nahaa rahehain bey...jaldi nikaliye humein bhii nahaana hain...but nahaana reminds me of mohit boss who i thnk had a record of not bathing for around 13 days or so....when he won a certain bet....there was a kind of admiration for him which increased manifold that day, he was a role model for we his juniors. Personally i feel nt bathing is an art when you dont have to stretch far to smell your own stink, its like creating an aura around yourself. Wohh BRChopra k serials or movies mein dikhaate hain jaise the halo which surrounds a person its not a halo but an aura which you have created around you after not bathing for a long time.
Sameep always had crazy ideas about the eat, he told me once, saala ek din muuh chhop k poora hosel mein nanga bhagoonga....i could imagine that, even if he covered his face i am prety sure everyone would have recognised him with his characteristic walk and run and genetic build.
But water was a problem and we agitated for it a lot infact that was our favourite pastime, agitating or feeling agitated abt something, after sleep which would top the charts if there was a hobby called sleep.
i have never felt repentant in life for my habit of sleeping long and waking up late in morning except for one instance. we had o do a measured drawing which i would off course detail out later but that was of a haveli in a village, where everybody woke up around 5 when it was dark and we as usual woke up around 10 in morning realising that we had to shit in open. so here we were i, navendu and sameep in the open looking for a safe place. Strange thing about these desert villages is there are no trees, the wild shrubs are very small, water is less and you never know when a place would become a road so you might end up shitting in the way. we were very sceptical as we could not find place but a small shrub and we were fighting who would take it, when sameep said "dekho saala tum meri ga*d"and he was out with his pants, we finally settled for a triangle with our ass facing the center of the triangle. tricky thinging about shitting in sand let me tell u is that the sand shifts very quickly so you have to shift your footing and get the balance right otherwise......anyways...enough for today...its turned a lot shitty, give me a break.
Today while i was coming from office i noticed a big heat wave and deadly heat which reminded me of Jaipur and how people tried different method of keeping their rooms cold. we had our own methods, somehow i came to know of a method which was if your room was topmost, you had to pour water over the terrace over your name, well thats the theor but whats the practical implication of it, as we were on first floor and had bihari guys over our room, i used to go at night quitely fill a bucket of water and slip in the water along the floor so that our room would be not hot. Result wass good except biharis who always wondered how come they woke up to water spread all over the floor, i dont know because i could just hear them shrieking in morning, saala paani kahaan sey aa gaya bey....
people used to throw water on walls complete day so that it might make room cooler, water on mattress water on themselves, sameep with his wet towels all around him water water everywhere. But where was water, we were in rajasthan mind u...so water was scarce and biharis used to save it in their buckets which were kept in their bathroom and as they had two rooms and one bathroom they all had kept their buckets. I always used to go in morning sneak into one of the bathrooms nd then bathe..nd some bihari wud come nd shout...arre abiisek arre rahul saala kaun nahaa rahehain bey...jaldi nikaliye humein bhii nahaana hain...but nahaana reminds me of mohit boss who i thnk had a record of not bathing for around 13 days or so....when he won a certain bet....there was a kind of admiration for him which increased manifold that day, he was a role model for we his juniors. Personally i feel nt bathing is an art when you dont have to stretch far to smell your own stink, its like creating an aura around yourself. Wohh BRChopra k serials or movies mein dikhaate hain jaise the halo which surrounds a person its not a halo but an aura which you have created around you after not bathing for a long time.
Sameep always had crazy ideas about the eat, he told me once, saala ek din muuh chhop k poora hosel mein nanga bhagoonga....i could imagine that, even if he covered his face i am prety sure everyone would have recognised him with his characteristic walk and run and genetic build.
But water was a problem and we agitated for it a lot infact that was our favourite pastime, agitating or feeling agitated abt something, after sleep which would top the charts if there was a hobby called sleep.
i have never felt repentant in life for my habit of sleeping long and waking up late in morning except for one instance. we had o do a measured drawing which i would off course detail out later but that was of a haveli in a village, where everybody woke up around 5 when it was dark and we as usual woke up around 10 in morning realising that we had to shit in open. so here we were i, navendu and sameep in the open looking for a safe place. Strange thing about these desert villages is there are no trees, the wild shrubs are very small, water is less and you never know when a place would become a road so you might end up shitting in the way. we were very sceptical as we could not find place but a small shrub and we were fighting who would take it, when sameep said "dekho saala tum meri ga*d"and he was out with his pants, we finally settled for a triangle with our ass facing the center of the triangle. tricky thinging about shitting in sand let me tell u is that the sand shifts very quickly so you have to shift your footing and get the balance right otherwise......anyways...enough for today...its turned a lot shitty, give me a break.
Short snippet from a long story...
“Did you ever Love me Nitin? Or was it just your lust or the smugness which brought you over to me”. “What’s your problem Ana? Why are you getting so pragmatic suddenly”, was my question. I could never get the fact why was she always bringing up this questions to the table, why was she always discussing that day and why was she always complaining about that meeting with the editor when she felt disillusioned with me. Yes, that’s the word, Disillusioned. That’s what she was with me. But I really dreaded to think that because I never gave her that illusion. I had already lost my heart to somebody when I met her, so then what was she, my take on rehabilitation, her take on adventure in hanging out with a smitten guy or was it her generosity which leads her to me crossing her path on that fateful day. But whatever it was, it blew our chastity away, our innocence of life gone by with a long association we had and which accidently took a wrong turn.
I always wonder why somebody talks about LOVE, when that is a thing probably which nobody would ever be able to explain. But I can understand Ana’s DISILLUSION with me today, after all that’s what precisely happened to me 1 week before that fateful day. It was just another day in office for me when I met a girl and believe me she just tore apart the world in which I used to live. She was like a breath of fresh air to me when she met me at first and I just felt everything had changed perspective. During my Architecture classes one of the biggest and toughest things to understand and similarly explain were Perspectives in Visual Arts. It’s the diminishing theory which every visual image has. Like the two tracks of Railway which are always parallel to each other but seem to meet each other at eternity. Similarly they say that everything that moves parallel in theory seems to meet somewhere sometime in an imaginary point. That is the point of Zilch in Relationships, where and when you feel everything ceases to be different from each other and meets in unison at a particular point.
But the point of Zilch is hypothetical to be reached, you might not agree with me if you have won in love, which is again an IDEAL condition and is therefore, never supposed to happen, because you are supposed to Lose in LOVE. Well so now if you are quasi winner, you might take a potshot at me and say that you won in love, but you my friend always thought that you reached the point of Zilch, but it was never to be. Now point of Zilch has an interesting theory associated with it. When you try to put a cube or lets say a Box in perspective , you would notice that the box has different sides which are parallel to each other and perpendicular to others. To make it more simple a cube has two kinds of relationships between two sides. Either they are parallel to each other or are perpendicular to each other. If they touch each other, they are supposed to be perpendicular and if they don’t they are supposed to be parallel. So now, if the box is in perspective then it’s side need to diminish. So the parallel sides diminish in one direction and the perpendicular in other. The parallel sides never meet each other, but they always seem to meet.
Same is the case with two people in love, they are like the parallel sides which never meet but always SEEM to meet. So if you are in Love and by any chance have added an adjective to enhance it, like Marriage or Commitment don’t think that you have met, it signifies that you seem to meet and have been compromised to meet at an imaginary point. These people have a road ahead of them which makes them realize that Love is a hypothetical concept which nobody can Understand unless they have lost in it and well this is our CATCH-22 situation as if you already lost in it, then how can you win in it.
Well by now, you would probably understand the basic difference how a girl’s and a guy’s mind works. Ana was always conscious of appearance and metaphysical gains losses and interpretations while Nitin had a simple and philosophical way to live life. Life is Complicated and there is always a complicated comparison sometime somewhere. The biggest surprising aspect was when it came to the results Ana was always searching for the metaphysical aspect of their relationship, while Nitin was always how a professionally trained bastard can be, a true and a perfect guy, always interested in the physical aspect of the relationship. For her, he was always the metaphysical center of philosophy that looked to comprehend her lack of sense towards life and for him, she was a perfect body, from hairs to her toes, he could smell the divinity and could see everything other than metaphysical about that piece of meat. But life still brought them together, perhaps it thought that these were the non-touching sides of the box which always seemed to meet, at the point of Zilch, at an ideal point of vanish.
A lot of that later, you must be wondering who’s ana and whats her story and what’s her anger for, so let me try and explain then.
It’s a night I have always dreaded to write about….It was a story gone haywire….If only we both would have shown more restraint and here we were moaning what we had done.
They were living their peaceful lives unless there was a storm and they stumbled upon each other, It was a graceful day which had begun with lots of promises for her. She had boarded the early train from Pune and reached Hyderabad, about which she had heard a lot but had never got a chance to explore and here she was doing a critique on the city, it’s habits, it’s mannerisms and its self-assuaded brashness which had been always an integral part of its characters. She was struggling to meet time since morning because her editor had impressed upon her to wear ethnic and appear in front of the editor of the newspaper she was about to meet.
Here she was draped in a peach coloured saree wondering whether her blouse was over-shining her dossier of innocence. She cursed her sense of colours and remembered the big prank they played over her in college. Agreed it was a girls college all right but it was embarassing nonetheless when she was persuaded to wear red coloured brasserie under the snow-white salwar which she had so fondly brought from FC road. Ok Ok it was cheap and not branded but who cared, at least it shone everything out unless that dreaded day when the red brasserie seemed to be the communist flag flaying the peace she tried to portray throughout the college. Gosh, still remember the looks of the poor lecturer who never could move his eyes from the communist flag hung on the steep poles of her draped adolescence.
But she was unaware why everybody was laughing and continued her chores, the only male lecturer she had who had a decent impression of her, flayed his analysis and gave his mind a sound lesson on working ethics and need to control the two eyeballs which had red filled in them. Anyways today was not so blatant as she had moved on to learn her lesson through an inspired bunch of friends who to her astonishment introduced her to the hidden video recording done behind her back, front of her chest rather literally and which had everyone in splits that evening.
She, just cursed her dressing sense and learned a valuable lesson in getting oneself scrutinised before leaving for work, scrutinising her appearance so that somebody might not curse her for wearing such “OBSCENE” clothes or maybe their integrity would not have to be challenged if she forgot to close a particular button or better still they might not have the Problem to jerk off because their chromosomes have been modified such that one mistake in her dressing might disturb their biological semblance with the environment and her character’s esteem with eternity.
It’s a world where you are judged by your dressing sense and funny still, there is no rules which govern a sense of it. So you might have been a guy some 10 years back and you would have looked good in shorts which only girl wear these days. Then the girls which you have always found in a pleasing salwar kurta had passed on the tradition to guys who would always be seen draped in a kurta and jeans, while girl wear all short of minis and short. Some years back world was screaming at its shrillest best to avoid purdah systems and letting girls live, while these days girls would always be seen with a scarve woven all over their place. Guys these days would be seen health conscious and wondering about their fitness while girls have flabby bodies and a jeans which is barely able to contain them and if somebody notices them from behind, even a guy is embarrassed to look at them.
The blare of a buzzer brought her alive from her imagination, here she was in the room waiting for the editor to grace her with her esteemed presence. She began to wonder what kindof aesthetic sense does an editor ought to have with her own and her office’s appearance. The big teak table in the Reception spoke volumes about the magnificence of the office behind which a rather meek stature was trying to hide herself from the ammo being aimed at her innocence. Well too meek to be a receptionist offcourse for a firebrand lady who was the editor of the most esteemed newspaper of Hyderabad. But then she thought that if she had an ego with a capital E she might not be sitting behind that teak table or rather she would be hanging by the very tree which made that teak, upside down. Well so was the reputation of the lady she was about to meet. Infact thinking of that she just had GooseBumps within her own stomach and wanted to comprehend her destiny soon to meet the much hyped ruckus behind that imposing door which smelled and looked of mahogany right from the time she entered the room.
The lady must have had expensive choices to maintain such an office and a miser’s heart to preserve so much money for her office. That just reminded her of her boss who had this dagger draped in a smile always on his lips when he uttered even a single word about my compensation. Suddenly an intercom beep just brought her back to earth when the meek secretary tried to utter her name and instruct her to move towards the door which was about to change her life.
Nitin was having a tough time with his life. He had been a subject of a case of mirage in his daily life. They say you see mirages in daily life, it’s a case of not being habitual to a life and a lifestyle and suddenly being subjected to rigours of it. But he had to see a mirage in his real life, his daily chores, things he knew inside out. It was a case of reaching a dead-end on a road he took everyday. But love is such a thing, it induces mirages on your daily life and he was in love, at least he thought so.
I always wonder why somebody talks about LOVE, when that is a thing probably which nobody would ever be able to explain. But I can understand Ana’s DISILLUSION with me today, after all that’s what precisely happened to me 1 week before that fateful day. It was just another day in office for me when I met a girl and believe me she just tore apart the world in which I used to live. She was like a breath of fresh air to me when she met me at first and I just felt everything had changed perspective. During my Architecture classes one of the biggest and toughest things to understand and similarly explain were Perspectives in Visual Arts. It’s the diminishing theory which every visual image has. Like the two tracks of Railway which are always parallel to each other but seem to meet each other at eternity. Similarly they say that everything that moves parallel in theory seems to meet somewhere sometime in an imaginary point. That is the point of Zilch in Relationships, where and when you feel everything ceases to be different from each other and meets in unison at a particular point.
But the point of Zilch is hypothetical to be reached, you might not agree with me if you have won in love, which is again an IDEAL condition and is therefore, never supposed to happen, because you are supposed to Lose in LOVE. Well so now if you are quasi winner, you might take a potshot at me and say that you won in love, but you my friend always thought that you reached the point of Zilch, but it was never to be. Now point of Zilch has an interesting theory associated with it. When you try to put a cube or lets say a Box in perspective , you would notice that the box has different sides which are parallel to each other and perpendicular to others. To make it more simple a cube has two kinds of relationships between two sides. Either they are parallel to each other or are perpendicular to each other. If they touch each other, they are supposed to be perpendicular and if they don’t they are supposed to be parallel. So now, if the box is in perspective then it’s side need to diminish. So the parallel sides diminish in one direction and the perpendicular in other. The parallel sides never meet each other, but they always seem to meet.
Same is the case with two people in love, they are like the parallel sides which never meet but always SEEM to meet. So if you are in Love and by any chance have added an adjective to enhance it, like Marriage or Commitment don’t think that you have met, it signifies that you seem to meet and have been compromised to meet at an imaginary point. These people have a road ahead of them which makes them realize that Love is a hypothetical concept which nobody can Understand unless they have lost in it and well this is our CATCH-22 situation as if you already lost in it, then how can you win in it.
Well by now, you would probably understand the basic difference how a girl’s and a guy’s mind works. Ana was always conscious of appearance and metaphysical gains losses and interpretations while Nitin had a simple and philosophical way to live life. Life is Complicated and there is always a complicated comparison sometime somewhere. The biggest surprising aspect was when it came to the results Ana was always searching for the metaphysical aspect of their relationship, while Nitin was always how a professionally trained bastard can be, a true and a perfect guy, always interested in the physical aspect of the relationship. For her, he was always the metaphysical center of philosophy that looked to comprehend her lack of sense towards life and for him, she was a perfect body, from hairs to her toes, he could smell the divinity and could see everything other than metaphysical about that piece of meat. But life still brought them together, perhaps it thought that these were the non-touching sides of the box which always seemed to meet, at the point of Zilch, at an ideal point of vanish.
A lot of that later, you must be wondering who’s ana and whats her story and what’s her anger for, so let me try and explain then.
It’s a night I have always dreaded to write about….It was a story gone haywire….If only we both would have shown more restraint and here we were moaning what we had done.
They were living their peaceful lives unless there was a storm and they stumbled upon each other, It was a graceful day which had begun with lots of promises for her. She had boarded the early train from Pune and reached Hyderabad, about which she had heard a lot but had never got a chance to explore and here she was doing a critique on the city, it’s habits, it’s mannerisms and its self-assuaded brashness which had been always an integral part of its characters. She was struggling to meet time since morning because her editor had impressed upon her to wear ethnic and appear in front of the editor of the newspaper she was about to meet.
Here she was draped in a peach coloured saree wondering whether her blouse was over-shining her dossier of innocence. She cursed her sense of colours and remembered the big prank they played over her in college. Agreed it was a girls college all right but it was embarassing nonetheless when she was persuaded to wear red coloured brasserie under the snow-white salwar which she had so fondly brought from FC road. Ok Ok it was cheap and not branded but who cared, at least it shone everything out unless that dreaded day when the red brasserie seemed to be the communist flag flaying the peace she tried to portray throughout the college. Gosh, still remember the looks of the poor lecturer who never could move his eyes from the communist flag hung on the steep poles of her draped adolescence.
But she was unaware why everybody was laughing and continued her chores, the only male lecturer she had who had a decent impression of her, flayed his analysis and gave his mind a sound lesson on working ethics and need to control the two eyeballs which had red filled in them. Anyways today was not so blatant as she had moved on to learn her lesson through an inspired bunch of friends who to her astonishment introduced her to the hidden video recording done behind her back, front of her chest rather literally and which had everyone in splits that evening.
She, just cursed her dressing sense and learned a valuable lesson in getting oneself scrutinised before leaving for work, scrutinising her appearance so that somebody might not curse her for wearing such “OBSCENE” clothes or maybe their integrity would not have to be challenged if she forgot to close a particular button or better still they might not have the Problem to jerk off because their chromosomes have been modified such that one mistake in her dressing might disturb their biological semblance with the environment and her character’s esteem with eternity.
It’s a world where you are judged by your dressing sense and funny still, there is no rules which govern a sense of it. So you might have been a guy some 10 years back and you would have looked good in shorts which only girl wear these days. Then the girls which you have always found in a pleasing salwar kurta had passed on the tradition to guys who would always be seen draped in a kurta and jeans, while girl wear all short of minis and short. Some years back world was screaming at its shrillest best to avoid purdah systems and letting girls live, while these days girls would always be seen with a scarve woven all over their place. Guys these days would be seen health conscious and wondering about their fitness while girls have flabby bodies and a jeans which is barely able to contain them and if somebody notices them from behind, even a guy is embarrassed to look at them.
The blare of a buzzer brought her alive from her imagination, here she was in the room waiting for the editor to grace her with her esteemed presence. She began to wonder what kindof aesthetic sense does an editor ought to have with her own and her office’s appearance. The big teak table in the Reception spoke volumes about the magnificence of the office behind which a rather meek stature was trying to hide herself from the ammo being aimed at her innocence. Well too meek to be a receptionist offcourse for a firebrand lady who was the editor of the most esteemed newspaper of Hyderabad. But then she thought that if she had an ego with a capital E she might not be sitting behind that teak table or rather she would be hanging by the very tree which made that teak, upside down. Well so was the reputation of the lady she was about to meet. Infact thinking of that she just had GooseBumps within her own stomach and wanted to comprehend her destiny soon to meet the much hyped ruckus behind that imposing door which smelled and looked of mahogany right from the time she entered the room.
The lady must have had expensive choices to maintain such an office and a miser’s heart to preserve so much money for her office. That just reminded her of her boss who had this dagger draped in a smile always on his lips when he uttered even a single word about my compensation. Suddenly an intercom beep just brought her back to earth when the meek secretary tried to utter her name and instruct her to move towards the door which was about to change her life.
Nitin was having a tough time with his life. He had been a subject of a case of mirage in his daily life. They say you see mirages in daily life, it’s a case of not being habitual to a life and a lifestyle and suddenly being subjected to rigours of it. But he had to see a mirage in his real life, his daily chores, things he knew inside out. It was a case of reaching a dead-end on a road he took everyday. But love is such a thing, it induces mirages on your daily life and he was in love, at least he thought so.
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