And suddenly in a span of two days, the sound of ethicism seems to be reverberating loud. It started with Tiger woods, then Rocket singh and then Satyam (Its been a year since the Scandal today). Each of these entities has a different story to tell but all boil down to the fact that if you do wrong, you shall not be spared.
It can be pretty confusing at times. To be ethical and be right always can be nightmare in today's world. Its like, walking not only on a tight rope but also walking on it hundred feet above ground level.The question:Should there be a choice at all between being ethical and not?
Just take the case of Tiger Woods. One of the best in his field. To be honest, his face looks like the epitome of innocence and somewhere he does seem to be a good guy. Accenture banked on his personality and have come up with some real good advertising and promotional strategies. Then disaster strikes.It turns out that Tiger isnt really that innocent and Accenture not really that sparing. The question:Is it easy to say that "with great power comes great reponsibility" when you really dont know what it takes to be a celebrity and handle it? There is no doubt that what Tiger did was wrong because mind you, kids in America take up golf soon and they looked upto him and so does the rest of the world. But what about media? Is there respect for a Human's privacy? God save the media and their heartless souls.
I saw Rocket Singh day before. The emphasis ws on doing business with ethics. It was about values and thinking from the heart. It was about thinking first for the people and then about making money. The movie showed in the end that righteousness prevails over everything else like all movies do. Yet, the question remains about sustenance of the value system. The movie ended with a positive beginning for the Rocket Corporation. But the real test is to continue in the right way. The question is :What happens when money and fame start pouring in? Will a company or an individual be able to handle the pressures of governance? Will a company or an individual be able to handle greed or will they succumb to the normal ways of life?
Satyam was a great company to work. I have worked there and I owe a lot to the company. Unlike many IT companies, it managed to show me a very positive side of IT. The result is that today I know that I want to stick to this industry. It showed me a direction. Yet, today it has failed because someone somewhere believed that money was way more important than doing the right thing.
In the end it is a choice and the choice is a tough one. It pays to be right but you pay the price for being wrong. No man's a saint and mistakes are made but at that one instant when you have to make a tough choice and you sense hesitation within you, say NO. It shall pay in the long run.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Rendezvous
Certain things ought to be impulsive in life. Certain journeys ought to be taken impulsively. Certain phone calls should be made at an instant from the heart. Certain words ought to be said impulsively. Certain moments ought to be lived impulsively. Otherwise friend, where is the fun!! Huh!!
The journey
-----------
Many a times I have regretted certain decisions I have made in life. In fact I think my love life has been a comedy of errors. I have always been a ‘One-woman’ man...every 2 years since I was 21. I have had a spate of breakups. Well, sometimes she wasn’t good enough and most of the times I wasn’t. Every time it happened, it took me a while to recuperate. Some girls showed promise; some just flirted away to glory while I got carried away, while some just wanted to move on because they got bored. Well I warned them. And yet after every breakup, the one relationship I can never forget was when I was in school. Well, trust me, it was the purest of them all. Now it gets more mushier.
I cannot forget those feelings. We hardly spoke and yet we did. We chatted on the phone and yet could never muster courage to have a 5 minutes conversation face-to-face. Shyness I guess. They were conversations of loud heartbeats and mumbling voices. Tara was her name. I was in my 11th. We were studying in State school inside the Tata Campus in Jamshedpur. She lived there. Her father was a professor there. My father was a central govt. employee then and we were on the run always. I cannot forget the last day in the school. We were moving away to Trivandrum, my hometown. I managed to tell her that I liked her a lot. She did too. The smile on her face, I cannot forget. Well she promised to write and so did I.
We moved and she wrote. I never did. I got engrossed in my life. I never wrote back and then she faded away from my memories. A guy who was just learning to shave had learnt it was time to move on. I called her on her birthday and told her it would be my last call.
After a long time again, Jamshedpur summons. A client meet and a hidden desire. I decided to give Tara a call. I had known her number all these years and yet I could never call. I called her. The phone rang twice.
‘Hello’, said a faintly familiar voice
‘Tara, its me. Vinay. How are you?’
A long pause and an eerie silence. It was as if she was waiting for my call all these years.
‘Hi Vinay. How have you been?’
‘Good. I am working in Calcutta with TCS. What about you?’
‘Well. I am working in the state school. I teach English’
I was excited to hear that. But I did not know what to say.
‘Thats great’.
‘So how come, a call after years?’
‘Well I am sorry for not calling. In fact, I am sorry for many things. I was coming to Jamshedpur this weekend, so i thought I could meet you.
‘Hmm. Well let me see. I have some plans but I can surely take some time out. Give me a call before you leave’.
Memories Galore
----------------
She was waiting for me near the cafe coffee day near the Tata foundation hospital. She looked stunning and had changed a lot. Her hair and she was so skinny then.
A warm handshake and we were off chatting. I knew though at some point I had to tell her why I wanted to meet her.
‘Tara, I had your number all these years. I somehow could not muster courage to call you. I had broken your heart and you liked me so much. You kept it going whereas I just gave up. I have been in many relationships and today I am single and yet I have this tingling pain which keeps resurfacing. The pain of breaking your heart. I am here to say sorry for everything. We were kids and yet that something between us was the most beautiful I have ever felt. I am sorry.’
Wow!! That was right out of bollywood. She looked at me and smiled. I just hoped that she would not laugh it was because it was kiddish in a way.
‘I forgive you’, she said. ‘I say that because I was hurt and that too for many years and I got over it. But hey!! No hard feelings any more. Honestly, I was looking for a guy with moustache. I never expected you’, she said laughing out loud.
‘You have changed too, you look beautiful. You single??’ ,I asked pinching myself hard after that. What an idiot I was. Somehow hoping though that she would be.
‘Well, I am engaged. My marriage is slated to happen next month’, she said.
I was a little taken aback. I was a little disappointed too. I wasn’t expecting it.
‘Oh! thats great. Congratulations!!!’
‘Thanks’.
‘Should I show you around the school? Interested?’, she asked.
‘Yep’.
We took a long walk. Somehow we pretty easily discussed the places where we had sat and spoken. The basketball court where I would deliberately sit close, to where she would sit with her friend, to eat. The bus stop, where I would always say bye to her before leaving for home. The arts class, where I would sing aloud so that she could hear and smile. The Labs where I tried my best to team up with her but never got a chance.
I remember the roads where one fine day I managed to walk back with her on a rainy day. I missed it all. The innocence.
Well, it was time to leave and I said goodbye knowing well that I would never meet her again. The heart did feel heavy for a while. I had done what I had come to do. Somehow though, I felt a lot more lonelier than ever. Probably it was a mix of Tara and the nostalgia of school days.
I sat for a while at the bus stop after she left. I looked around. The sun was setting and the smell of the Ashoka trees rose. Something had not changed. I smiled and realised that it was good that I had come here.
Certain things ought to be impulsive in life. Certain journeys ought to be taken impulsively. Certain phone calls should be made at an instant from the heart. Certain words ought to be said impulsively. Certain moments ought to be lived impulsively. Otherwise friend, where is the fun!! Huh!!
V.V.Vikram
The journey
-----------
Many a times I have regretted certain decisions I have made in life. In fact I think my love life has been a comedy of errors. I have always been a ‘One-woman’ man...every 2 years since I was 21. I have had a spate of breakups. Well, sometimes she wasn’t good enough and most of the times I wasn’t. Every time it happened, it took me a while to recuperate. Some girls showed promise; some just flirted away to glory while I got carried away, while some just wanted to move on because they got bored. Well I warned them. And yet after every breakup, the one relationship I can never forget was when I was in school. Well, trust me, it was the purest of them all. Now it gets more mushier.
I cannot forget those feelings. We hardly spoke and yet we did. We chatted on the phone and yet could never muster courage to have a 5 minutes conversation face-to-face. Shyness I guess. They were conversations of loud heartbeats and mumbling voices. Tara was her name. I was in my 11th. We were studying in State school inside the Tata Campus in Jamshedpur. She lived there. Her father was a professor there. My father was a central govt. employee then and we were on the run always. I cannot forget the last day in the school. We were moving away to Trivandrum, my hometown. I managed to tell her that I liked her a lot. She did too. The smile on her face, I cannot forget. Well she promised to write and so did I.
We moved and she wrote. I never did. I got engrossed in my life. I never wrote back and then she faded away from my memories. A guy who was just learning to shave had learnt it was time to move on. I called her on her birthday and told her it would be my last call.
After a long time again, Jamshedpur summons. A client meet and a hidden desire. I decided to give Tara a call. I had known her number all these years and yet I could never call. I called her. The phone rang twice.
‘Hello’, said a faintly familiar voice
‘Tara, its me. Vinay. How are you?’
A long pause and an eerie silence. It was as if she was waiting for my call all these years.
‘Hi Vinay. How have you been?’
‘Good. I am working in Calcutta with TCS. What about you?’
‘Well. I am working in the state school. I teach English’
I was excited to hear that. But I did not know what to say.
‘Thats great’.
‘So how come, a call after years?’
‘Well I am sorry for not calling. In fact, I am sorry for many things. I was coming to Jamshedpur this weekend, so i thought I could meet you.
‘Hmm. Well let me see. I have some plans but I can surely take some time out. Give me a call before you leave’.
Memories Galore
----------------
She was waiting for me near the cafe coffee day near the Tata foundation hospital. She looked stunning and had changed a lot. Her hair and she was so skinny then.
A warm handshake and we were off chatting. I knew though at some point I had to tell her why I wanted to meet her.
‘Tara, I had your number all these years. I somehow could not muster courage to call you. I had broken your heart and you liked me so much. You kept it going whereas I just gave up. I have been in many relationships and today I am single and yet I have this tingling pain which keeps resurfacing. The pain of breaking your heart. I am here to say sorry for everything. We were kids and yet that something between us was the most beautiful I have ever felt. I am sorry.’
Wow!! That was right out of bollywood. She looked at me and smiled. I just hoped that she would not laugh it was because it was kiddish in a way.
‘I forgive you’, she said. ‘I say that because I was hurt and that too for many years and I got over it. But hey!! No hard feelings any more. Honestly, I was looking for a guy with moustache. I never expected you’, she said laughing out loud.
‘You have changed too, you look beautiful. You single??’ ,I asked pinching myself hard after that. What an idiot I was. Somehow hoping though that she would be.
‘Well, I am engaged. My marriage is slated to happen next month’, she said.
I was a little taken aback. I was a little disappointed too. I wasn’t expecting it.
‘Oh! thats great. Congratulations!!!’
‘Thanks’.
‘Should I show you around the school? Interested?’, she asked.
‘Yep’.
We took a long walk. Somehow we pretty easily discussed the places where we had sat and spoken. The basketball court where I would deliberately sit close, to where she would sit with her friend, to eat. The bus stop, where I would always say bye to her before leaving for home. The arts class, where I would sing aloud so that she could hear and smile. The Labs where I tried my best to team up with her but never got a chance.
I remember the roads where one fine day I managed to walk back with her on a rainy day. I missed it all. The innocence.
Well, it was time to leave and I said goodbye knowing well that I would never meet her again. The heart did feel heavy for a while. I had done what I had come to do. Somehow though, I felt a lot more lonelier than ever. Probably it was a mix of Tara and the nostalgia of school days.
I sat for a while at the bus stop after she left. I looked around. The sun was setting and the smell of the Ashoka trees rose. Something had not changed. I smiled and realised that it was good that I had come here.
Certain things ought to be impulsive in life. Certain journeys ought to be taken impulsively. Certain phone calls should be made at an instant from the heart. Certain words ought to be said impulsively. Certain moments ought to be lived impulsively. Otherwise friend, where is the fun!! Huh!!
V.V.Vikram
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Hangman from Tibbar
Dedicated to all the extraordinary and weird professions in the world.
The Hangman From Tibbar
---------------------------------------
I walk back home everyday. Over the years I have taken a liking to the narrow muddy road that takes me back home. In fact, given a choice I would just walk the rest of my life. Just me and the road to ourselves. The condition of the roads in Gurdaspur has improved over the years. Yet, this road has remained the same over years. Covered with trees, the walk on this one during monsoons is a sheer delight for a loner like me. By the way, my name is Chander Singh and I work as the Hangman in Gurdaspur Jail.
FLASHBACK
---------
As a 3 year old, I remember my father taking me to the Jail at times. He worked there. I was intrigued and thrilled whenever I went there. A massive structure, the Jail gave me an eerie feeling. I would immediately dream of dark dungeons, princes, swords and the villains of course. I always wanted to go in but my dad never took me in. I would sit with the two scary Guards outside. I always wondered what my dad did in the jail. My dad was a six footer. He had a typical villainous look that would scare the hell out of kids during nights when he got back home. With a large dark mole on his cheek, he was a monster. I pitied the convicts.
As a youngster I remember, noone would come to my house. Moms would warn their kids not to play with me. The colony never acknowledged our presence. It was as if I was living in a dead society bustling with people. My father was a quiet person. He would come back home, call for my mother to lay out the food. He would eat, kiss me goodnight on the forehead and promptly sleep.
I had no friends. None at all. In fact, after a while in my life I realised that I had stopped yearning for them. I got used to things this way I guess. It was a normal day and I got back from school when I saw a huge crowd gathered in front of my house. I saw the all the ladies sitting together and weeping. There was a murmur amongst the men standing to one side. As I went in, I saw the corpses of my father and mother. Both covered in a white cloth, the one my mom used to lay the food upon. I did not cry. I was shocked and lost. I was told that the house had been robbed and that the robbers killed both my parents. It was the first time in years that I had spoken so much. People came upto me and consoled me. Some I knew but most I did not.
After a month or so, I was paid a visit by the Jailer of Gurdaspur. He offered me the post of my dad and said I could join whenever I was interested.
THE JAIL AND HOME
-----------------
It was not as scary as I thought it would be. Of course, I was just a kid then. But the eeriness was still there. The walls were built of Huge dark stones which added to the spookiness. As I entered the jailer's room, I saw a couple of convicts being handcuffed and taken away. They looked at me as if they were ready to commit another crime.
"So Chander, ready to step into your father's shoes?"
"Honestly sir, I want to thank you from my heart first but also I shall confess that I have no idea what my father did in the jail. What did he do?"
"Ahem. Well, let me put it bluntly. Your father was a hangman. He helped executing convicts. He put them to death."
For a moment, my world turned upside down. I was shocked, aghast and disturbed. So many things came to my mind. My father's behaviour which I now undertood. His reluctance and apprehensions.
"You okay son?", asked the jailer.
"Sir, I think I shall return and let you know"
The walk back home on the muddy path was a mammoth task. With so much running through my mind, I cared the least for the puddles that had formed. By the time, I reached home I had soiled my pants. I just sat in a corner and wondered what to do.
'JALLAD'
--------
It had been three years since I had been a hangman. I had killed many with these very hands. They wept, they pleaded even though they were guilty and yet I had no choice but to do what I had to. I had become insane. I had the license to kill they said and laughed, the guards in the jail. Every journey back home was a journey of guilt. The pangs of conscience were unbearable. Noone would talk to me in the colony. Things had come back to square one, the day I had said yes to the jailer. Kids called me the boogey-man. Some called me 'Jallad' and some called me the 'Ruthless Murderer of Tibbar'. Tibbar was the place where the jail was located. Girls shyed away from me. But I did not stop, I kept killing them.
'The Terrorist of Kupwara'
-------------------------
Tibbar was on the border of India and Pakistan and many convicts brought to the Gurdaspur Jail were captured terrorists. Many notorios and many not so notorious. They were beaten everyday. Some were beaten to death. As a hangman, I know for a fact that all the executions I have done have not been legal.Some are killed and reported to media as died due to stress. Some are beaten to death and then hanged and later the bodies thrown back into their cells. They are the suicide cases by the way.
A young terrorist was beaten the same way. A young boy forced into becoming a terrorist. He was beaten to death almost. He did not reveal any information about his terrorist ring because he actually did not know anything. He would cry at nights and the wailing would be heard across cells. One fine day, I was summoned by the jailer. He told me that they had planned the execution of the Kupwara terrorist and it would happen at 12.30 am midnight. I never questioned him. At 9.30 pm I went this cell. I heard a brawl. They had stripped him naked and were battering him with a fat stick. He was bleeding and I knew would soon collapse.
After finishing their merciless assault, the guards left, leaving the almost-dying terrorist. I helped him take a bath and helped him change his clothes. I whispered into his years about the midnight plan. He stated weeping with whatever energy he had. He held my feet and shouted that he was innocent. For once I found my heart melting and I think I my eyes did become wet for a second.
At around 12.15, he came into the courtyard with the jailer and two cards. I covered his head with the black hood. He was crying and shouting loud that he wanted to see his mom and younger sister one last time. It was then for a second that I realized that I was the Satan from hell without doubt. I pulled the lever and down he went.
Nemesis
-------
Thats my story. Nothing much at all. I am an ordinary man in an extraordinary profession. By the way, only yesterday I got to know that I am suffering from Tuberculosis and I am in my last stages of life. Its been 20 years as a hangman. I have killed many and now its come around for me. My jail mates tell me that no hangman has died a normal death. I went to the jailer yesterday and told him that I had a wish. I told him that I wanted to be hanged as well. He smiled and said that all Hangmen of Tibbar had asked for the same till date. He said it was guilt.
V.V.Vikram
The Hangman From Tibbar
---------------------------------------
I walk back home everyday. Over the years I have taken a liking to the narrow muddy road that takes me back home. In fact, given a choice I would just walk the rest of my life. Just me and the road to ourselves. The condition of the roads in Gurdaspur has improved over the years. Yet, this road has remained the same over years. Covered with trees, the walk on this one during monsoons is a sheer delight for a loner like me. By the way, my name is Chander Singh and I work as the Hangman in Gurdaspur Jail.
FLASHBACK
---------
As a 3 year old, I remember my father taking me to the Jail at times. He worked there. I was intrigued and thrilled whenever I went there. A massive structure, the Jail gave me an eerie feeling. I would immediately dream of dark dungeons, princes, swords and the villains of course. I always wanted to go in but my dad never took me in. I would sit with the two scary Guards outside. I always wondered what my dad did in the jail. My dad was a six footer. He had a typical villainous look that would scare the hell out of kids during nights when he got back home. With a large dark mole on his cheek, he was a monster. I pitied the convicts.
As a youngster I remember, noone would come to my house. Moms would warn their kids not to play with me. The colony never acknowledged our presence. It was as if I was living in a dead society bustling with people. My father was a quiet person. He would come back home, call for my mother to lay out the food. He would eat, kiss me goodnight on the forehead and promptly sleep.
I had no friends. None at all. In fact, after a while in my life I realised that I had stopped yearning for them. I got used to things this way I guess. It was a normal day and I got back from school when I saw a huge crowd gathered in front of my house. I saw the all the ladies sitting together and weeping. There was a murmur amongst the men standing to one side. As I went in, I saw the corpses of my father and mother. Both covered in a white cloth, the one my mom used to lay the food upon. I did not cry. I was shocked and lost. I was told that the house had been robbed and that the robbers killed both my parents. It was the first time in years that I had spoken so much. People came upto me and consoled me. Some I knew but most I did not.
After a month or so, I was paid a visit by the Jailer of Gurdaspur. He offered me the post of my dad and said I could join whenever I was interested.
THE JAIL AND HOME
-----------------
It was not as scary as I thought it would be. Of course, I was just a kid then. But the eeriness was still there. The walls were built of Huge dark stones which added to the spookiness. As I entered the jailer's room, I saw a couple of convicts being handcuffed and taken away. They looked at me as if they were ready to commit another crime.
"So Chander, ready to step into your father's shoes?"
"Honestly sir, I want to thank you from my heart first but also I shall confess that I have no idea what my father did in the jail. What did he do?"
"Ahem. Well, let me put it bluntly. Your father was a hangman. He helped executing convicts. He put them to death."
For a moment, my world turned upside down. I was shocked, aghast and disturbed. So many things came to my mind. My father's behaviour which I now undertood. His reluctance and apprehensions.
"You okay son?", asked the jailer.
"Sir, I think I shall return and let you know"
The walk back home on the muddy path was a mammoth task. With so much running through my mind, I cared the least for the puddles that had formed. By the time, I reached home I had soiled my pants. I just sat in a corner and wondered what to do.
'JALLAD'
--------
It had been three years since I had been a hangman. I had killed many with these very hands. They wept, they pleaded even though they were guilty and yet I had no choice but to do what I had to. I had become insane. I had the license to kill they said and laughed, the guards in the jail. Every journey back home was a journey of guilt. The pangs of conscience were unbearable. Noone would talk to me in the colony. Things had come back to square one, the day I had said yes to the jailer. Kids called me the boogey-man. Some called me 'Jallad' and some called me the 'Ruthless Murderer of Tibbar'. Tibbar was the place where the jail was located. Girls shyed away from me. But I did not stop, I kept killing them.
'The Terrorist of Kupwara'
-------------------------
Tibbar was on the border of India and Pakistan and many convicts brought to the Gurdaspur Jail were captured terrorists. Many notorios and many not so notorious. They were beaten everyday. Some were beaten to death. As a hangman, I know for a fact that all the executions I have done have not been legal.Some are killed and reported to media as died due to stress. Some are beaten to death and then hanged and later the bodies thrown back into their cells. They are the suicide cases by the way.
A young terrorist was beaten the same way. A young boy forced into becoming a terrorist. He was beaten to death almost. He did not reveal any information about his terrorist ring because he actually did not know anything. He would cry at nights and the wailing would be heard across cells. One fine day, I was summoned by the jailer. He told me that they had planned the execution of the Kupwara terrorist and it would happen at 12.30 am midnight. I never questioned him. At 9.30 pm I went this cell. I heard a brawl. They had stripped him naked and were battering him with a fat stick. He was bleeding and I knew would soon collapse.
After finishing their merciless assault, the guards left, leaving the almost-dying terrorist. I helped him take a bath and helped him change his clothes. I whispered into his years about the midnight plan. He stated weeping with whatever energy he had. He held my feet and shouted that he was innocent. For once I found my heart melting and I think I my eyes did become wet for a second.
At around 12.15, he came into the courtyard with the jailer and two cards. I covered his head with the black hood. He was crying and shouting loud that he wanted to see his mom and younger sister one last time. It was then for a second that I realized that I was the Satan from hell without doubt. I pulled the lever and down he went.
Nemesis
-------
Thats my story. Nothing much at all. I am an ordinary man in an extraordinary profession. By the way, only yesterday I got to know that I am suffering from Tuberculosis and I am in my last stages of life. Its been 20 years as a hangman. I have killed many and now its come around for me. My jail mates tell me that no hangman has died a normal death. I went to the jailer yesterday and told him that I had a wish. I told him that I wanted to be hanged as well. He smiled and said that all Hangmen of Tibbar had asked for the same till date. He said it was guilt.
V.V.Vikram
Thursday, October 15, 2009
SHAME
This story is a fictional piece entirely and is not written with any intentions to hurt anyone's sentiments. The message is simple...anger and hatred kills. People in the process of venting anger and hatred do not realise that the same could change the life of the victim drastically. It could inflict him with wounds that would remain unhealed for life.
SHAME
I
--
"Keep your mouth shut and if I get to know that you are trying to mess around, we will cut you into pieces and hang your circumcised phallus right in front of your house. Understand, you mother fucking bastard? Your clan is a bunch of unchaste pigs"
Manu, the local leader in Aligarh was listening to the profanities and was quite embarrassed. Abdul, the boy being yelled at was after all a 10 year old kid. He had seen too much though, there wasn’t an iota of doubt in that. Yet, surprisingly, he found it cruel. Guruji was trying to scare this kid who was probably himself shaken up by what he had witnessed.
"Take this son of a bitch away and keep an eye on him. Manu, meet me after you deal with this kid", he said in a loud voice just to scare the little one a wee bit more.
Manu held Abdul's hand tightly and took him out. He somehow did not want to be harsh but he knew their clan too well. They were not what they seemed. Yet this guy was just a kid and Manu could see both fear and helplessness in Abdul's eyes."You say a word boy and you die. Understand? Do not tell your friends or they die too." He handed him to the other guys and told them to take him home.
Abdul had the address written on a piece of paper which had become soggy from sweat. He was scared. He could not understand what was happening. It was just morning then and now the night had set in. What would he say to his uncle and aunt as to where he was all the while and they would be worried more so knowing what had happened to the train he had arrived in. The whole of Aligarh had been shaken up and he knew what had happened.
II
--
Manu was tired and exhausted. He had returned home after 16 hours. He had sneaked out of the house in the morning while his mom was asleep. It had been a big day for him or probably the biggest. He had won the trust of his Guruji. Guruji was the leader of the Hindu sabha in Aligarh and was one of the most respected leaders in India. He was also the mentor for the Chief Minister of the UP who was representing a party dedicated to Hindu Ideologies and ways of life. The party had faced criticism for this but the vote bank was dependent on them, the ideologies. The elections were scheduled for the next month and with dwindling popularity and anti-incumbency, Guruji was summoned by the CM.
The plan was to turn Aligarh upside down. A day that would change the lives of many. Manu had led from the front. Guruji gave him the responsibility to carry out the task and he did so with ease. Except that Abdul remained.
III
----
Abdul had eaten and was too tired to even think and yet he could not sleep. His aunty cried when she saw him. He did not utter a word and just told them that he had lost the address somewhere in the train. He wondered if he would ever be able to forget what he saw. Suddenly he felt older. He was 10 years old and yet what he saw and what he experienced was rarely what a 10 year old would see or feel.
The one face he could never forget was that of the 65 year old woman who was going home the first time after her grandson was born. She told Abdul that he had been christened "Vikas" after her late husband. He also remembered her face when she was stabbed twice and then pushed into her lower side berth seat in the train.
He remembered the old man who was coming from a village all the way to get treatment for leukemia. He was giving a last shot at life. They chopped off his fingers and legs and then stabbed him right through his heart.
And the little one he was playing with. They were a little more graceful with her. They put a hand tight on her mouth and did not let her breathe. She died in seconds.
Why did they spare him? Everyone except for him was killed on that train by the hooligans. He remembered when one of them raised his sword on him.
Manu shouted," Leave that one. It will go against the plan. Only murder the Hindus. Let this mother fucker be spared. Anyways we will kill them in hordes after tomorrow. Let’s take him away with us quietly. Let Guruji deal with him"
Abdul wondered what plan he was talking about???
IV
----
Manu still hadn’t slept. He had joined the Sabha, 5 years back as worker and today he was the leader in Aligarh. Over years he learnt about Hindutva and had developed a certain hatred toward the Green clan. He realised that Hindus were too docile and patient and the Muslims had taken advantage of it all the
while. Terrorists they were, no doubts.
The plan had gone off well. They had killed all the Hindus in the train. Now, it would only be a matter of hours when the anti-muslim sentiment would spring up and lead to the much desired riots. The CM had promised that he would keep the police forces in the state at bay when it happened. The Muslims would be butchered and the votes will go to the government. Guruji had a way to think out of the box.
V
--
The riots broke out early in the morning. It was the news flash about 8 muslim goons butchering all the hindus in a train bogie at Aligarh, that made Abdul go into a shock. He realised what had happened and why he had been spared. He knew the truth and yet he knew the consequences.
The riots lasted a week. Abdul, his uncle and aunt hid inside their room with little food and water. They would be woken up by loud door banging during midnights. Stones would be pelted and fire sticks would be thrown in. Abdul could hear women screaming, men being tortured to death. Processions were led out where all muslims where forced to go around their colonies naked shouting "hare ram, hare krishna".
The muslims too killed many Hindus. The same was done with their women and children. Abdul was aghast at what was happening. He had come to spend the summer and what he was witnessing everyday was changing his life.
2 months later....
------------------
Abdul returned to his village. He had still not told anyone what he saw on that dreadful day. He had become more silent and calm. There were nights when he would wake up with a jerk, drenched in sweat. He would question the sanity of people and the heights to which they could stoop to be in power.
The only part that he felt good about was that he had not developed a hatred for any clan because of the entire episode. Both the clans had been affected. He also thought about how some incidents change you for life and make you a little more mature.
-V.V.VIKRAM
SHAME
I
--
"Keep your mouth shut and if I get to know that you are trying to mess around, we will cut you into pieces and hang your circumcised phallus right in front of your house. Understand, you mother fucking bastard? Your clan is a bunch of unchaste pigs"
Manu, the local leader in Aligarh was listening to the profanities and was quite embarrassed. Abdul, the boy being yelled at was after all a 10 year old kid. He had seen too much though, there wasn’t an iota of doubt in that. Yet, surprisingly, he found it cruel. Guruji was trying to scare this kid who was probably himself shaken up by what he had witnessed.
"Take this son of a bitch away and keep an eye on him. Manu, meet me after you deal with this kid", he said in a loud voice just to scare the little one a wee bit more.
Manu held Abdul's hand tightly and took him out. He somehow did not want to be harsh but he knew their clan too well. They were not what they seemed. Yet this guy was just a kid and Manu could see both fear and helplessness in Abdul's eyes."You say a word boy and you die. Understand? Do not tell your friends or they die too." He handed him to the other guys and told them to take him home.
Abdul had the address written on a piece of paper which had become soggy from sweat. He was scared. He could not understand what was happening. It was just morning then and now the night had set in. What would he say to his uncle and aunt as to where he was all the while and they would be worried more so knowing what had happened to the train he had arrived in. The whole of Aligarh had been shaken up and he knew what had happened.
II
--
Manu was tired and exhausted. He had returned home after 16 hours. He had sneaked out of the house in the morning while his mom was asleep. It had been a big day for him or probably the biggest. He had won the trust of his Guruji. Guruji was the leader of the Hindu sabha in Aligarh and was one of the most respected leaders in India. He was also the mentor for the Chief Minister of the UP who was representing a party dedicated to Hindu Ideologies and ways of life. The party had faced criticism for this but the vote bank was dependent on them, the ideologies. The elections were scheduled for the next month and with dwindling popularity and anti-incumbency, Guruji was summoned by the CM.
The plan was to turn Aligarh upside down. A day that would change the lives of many. Manu had led from the front. Guruji gave him the responsibility to carry out the task and he did so with ease. Except that Abdul remained.
III
----
Abdul had eaten and was too tired to even think and yet he could not sleep. His aunty cried when she saw him. He did not utter a word and just told them that he had lost the address somewhere in the train. He wondered if he would ever be able to forget what he saw. Suddenly he felt older. He was 10 years old and yet what he saw and what he experienced was rarely what a 10 year old would see or feel.
The one face he could never forget was that of the 65 year old woman who was going home the first time after her grandson was born. She told Abdul that he had been christened "Vikas" after her late husband. He also remembered her face when she was stabbed twice and then pushed into her lower side berth seat in the train.
He remembered the old man who was coming from a village all the way to get treatment for leukemia. He was giving a last shot at life. They chopped off his fingers and legs and then stabbed him right through his heart.
And the little one he was playing with. They were a little more graceful with her. They put a hand tight on her mouth and did not let her breathe. She died in seconds.
Why did they spare him? Everyone except for him was killed on that train by the hooligans. He remembered when one of them raised his sword on him.
Manu shouted," Leave that one. It will go against the plan. Only murder the Hindus. Let this mother fucker be spared. Anyways we will kill them in hordes after tomorrow. Let’s take him away with us quietly. Let Guruji deal with him"
Abdul wondered what plan he was talking about???
IV
----
Manu still hadn’t slept. He had joined the Sabha, 5 years back as worker and today he was the leader in Aligarh. Over years he learnt about Hindutva and had developed a certain hatred toward the Green clan. He realised that Hindus were too docile and patient and the Muslims had taken advantage of it all the
while. Terrorists they were, no doubts.
The plan had gone off well. They had killed all the Hindus in the train. Now, it would only be a matter of hours when the anti-muslim sentiment would spring up and lead to the much desired riots. The CM had promised that he would keep the police forces in the state at bay when it happened. The Muslims would be butchered and the votes will go to the government. Guruji had a way to think out of the box.
V
--
The riots broke out early in the morning. It was the news flash about 8 muslim goons butchering all the hindus in a train bogie at Aligarh, that made Abdul go into a shock. He realised what had happened and why he had been spared. He knew the truth and yet he knew the consequences.
The riots lasted a week. Abdul, his uncle and aunt hid inside their room with little food and water. They would be woken up by loud door banging during midnights. Stones would be pelted and fire sticks would be thrown in. Abdul could hear women screaming, men being tortured to death. Processions were led out where all muslims where forced to go around their colonies naked shouting "hare ram, hare krishna".
The muslims too killed many Hindus. The same was done with their women and children. Abdul was aghast at what was happening. He had come to spend the summer and what he was witnessing everyday was changing his life.
2 months later....
------------------
Abdul returned to his village. He had still not told anyone what he saw on that dreadful day. He had become more silent and calm. There were nights when he would wake up with a jerk, drenched in sweat. He would question the sanity of people and the heights to which they could stoop to be in power.
The only part that he felt good about was that he had not developed a hatred for any clan because of the entire episode. Both the clans had been affected. He also thought about how some incidents change you for life and make you a little more mature.
-V.V.VIKRAM
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Fly Away
Written with the thought that we today seldom care about others values and feelings and live in our own world. When time passes we realise they were important, but they are gone.
Make others feel important in life. It gives immense pleasure to see them smile.
Fly Away
----------
Gone with the wind have I somewhere,
I flutter like that thin feather,
Restless yet agile, I wander everywhere,
I will burn like a rock when I hit the land.
Will you lift me then, will you?
Or will you abandon me to myself,
I will fly away again into the skies,
Waiting for that someone to reedem himself.
Do not call me then, as this gust breathes life,
I will then only listen to the Wind gods,
I shall be blown away forever to lands unknown,
Do not call me then, as freedom would encapsulate me.
I shall then listen to noone,
And then you shall look for me,
Alas! I would be not seen anywhere,
Why did thou not look for me when I was there?
Now I would mean more to them,
In the city of windmills, where there is love,
You loved Thyself so much, you let go off me,
Now I shall be loved forever,
Do not call me now as the gust breathes life
V.V.Vikram
Make others feel important in life. It gives immense pleasure to see them smile.
Fly Away
----------
Gone with the wind have I somewhere,
I flutter like that thin feather,
Restless yet agile, I wander everywhere,
I will burn like a rock when I hit the land.
Will you lift me then, will you?
Or will you abandon me to myself,
I will fly away again into the skies,
Waiting for that someone to reedem himself.
Do not call me then, as this gust breathes life,
I will then only listen to the Wind gods,
I shall be blown away forever to lands unknown,
Do not call me then, as freedom would encapsulate me.
I shall then listen to noone,
And then you shall look for me,
Alas! I would be not seen anywhere,
Why did thou not look for me when I was there?
Now I would mean more to them,
In the city of windmills, where there is love,
You loved Thyself so much, you let go off me,
Now I shall be loved forever,
Do not call me now as the gust breathes life
V.V.Vikram
Monday, September 7, 2009
The Paradox called Love
There is a famous couplet of Ghalib which I adore:
Mohabbat mein nahi hai fark jeene aur marne ka,
Usi ko dekh kar jeete hain, jis kaafir pe dum nikle
It means that in love there is no difference between life and death because the person you yearn to live with is the same person you can die for.
There cannot be a bigger paradox than love. These lines in honour of that very paradox.
How does one tell as to why he feels lonely?
The one who was yours once is now someone else's,
If this is what the world is about, why is it so?
If this is the way things happen, why are they so?
Once you extended your arms and i reached out to them,
In your heart then resided my heartbeat,
If such was the proximity then why is there a distance today?
Noone has ever come out of a heartbreak,
And yet we knock the door of love again,
Why does he up there rekindle hopes when it hurts and it pains?
Whether you call it a relation of hope or that of sadness,
This relation of love is something we are born with,
When the relation is so rooted, then how come it breaks?
V.V.Vikram
Mohabbat mein nahi hai fark jeene aur marne ka,
Usi ko dekh kar jeete hain, jis kaafir pe dum nikle
It means that in love there is no difference between life and death because the person you yearn to live with is the same person you can die for.
There cannot be a bigger paradox than love. These lines in honour of that very paradox.
How does one tell as to why he feels lonely?
The one who was yours once is now someone else's,
If this is what the world is about, why is it so?
If this is the way things happen, why are they so?
Once you extended your arms and i reached out to them,
In your heart then resided my heartbeat,
If such was the proximity then why is there a distance today?
Noone has ever come out of a heartbreak,
And yet we knock the door of love again,
Why does he up there rekindle hopes when it hurts and it pains?
Whether you call it a relation of hope or that of sadness,
This relation of love is something we are born with,
When the relation is so rooted, then how come it breaks?
V.V.Vikram
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
CATHARSIS
Another attempt....
It’s been over a month now, but the grief has not gone. It lingers around like a small fly that tries to find ways to get back its most coveted sweet-meat. I come back from work and quickly pass by that tiny room which was planned with love and anticipation.
I called for her twice. It had become a habit, this. She would ridicule me for calling her name unconsciously so many times. I loved that infectious smile. I was missing it these days, terribly. I kept my laptop bag at the corner of my bed and walked towards the balcony. It was the balcony really that made us buy the house. We lived on the 16th floor and to be honest the world could not have been more picturesque from that balcony. We had spent almost a day and roamed around like nomads searching for that perfect swing for the balcony. We just sat there at nights talking about us and the people around. At times we just stared far away into spaces searching for images and struck unrealistic conversations, which were at times imbecile. At times we just caressed each other and ended up making love.
She sat there. Her lugs curled up and her hands folded around her legs. She was absolutely static, only to move once to fiddle with her hair and push it back behind her ears. She had not observed me nor did she sense me. I had been observing her for five minutes now. I could not even imagine what she might have been feeling all this while.
I went across and stood in front of her. I put my warm hands on her cheeks. My huge palm covering her entire cheek. She always loved it. This time though, just a wry smile acknowledging my presence.
"Did you eat?", she asked.
"Had a sandwich on my way back. I am pretty full. What about you Anjali? Please do not do this to yourself. You look famished." Such an oddity that. In the past few months she had always been eating that much extra to keep herself fit and fine.
"I am fine. Just not hungry. How was your day?"
"Hectic as usual. Calls and meetings galore. I may have to go to London next month. I want you to come along." Half way, I knew she had already turned a deaf ear. Lost again in her world, she was staring away at the sky, orange in colour, covered with grey clouds. It was as if the clouds were trying their best to cover up the mess made by the sun. The clouds moving about in all directions to cover up the patches of the orange sky.
As I stared deeper, I remembered the day when he had to leave for the conference to Los Angeles. It was my boss who had to go. He fell sick the last moment and I had to replace him as the company could not afford to lose the client. I still remember that morning when a blue taxi pulled in to pick me up. It was the last time I had seen her pregnant. I did not want to leave her. She waved and then immediately kept her hand on the womb as if telling the little one inside to wave as well.
The moment I landed I got a page saying things had gone wrong. I apologized to my boss and rushed back. It was the most awful journey of my life. I sobbed uncontrollably like a child.
She was just lying to a side. Her eyes said it all. She looked at me and cried hysterically and apologised. I just hugged her tightly grieving the loss. I felt sad for her. How much we had planned it. We had wanted it badly and quickly too. The doctors said that she had a weak uterus. The worst was yet to come. They warned that a pregnancy again would endanger both hers and the baby's life.
As I stood there, my hands still on her cheeks, I felt my thumb getting wet. She could not be consoled. I had tried it many a times but she was inconsolable. I kissed her forehead and and then kissed her cheeks. We had stayed away from each other all these days. She started sobbing uncontrollably now. I took her in my arms and hugged her tightly.
"I am sorry Siddharth. I know how much you wanted it. I failed you. I am sorry."
At that very moment, my eyes just welled up. I hugged her even tightly. I suddenly realised that I loved her so much. That one moment, I felt like a young lover who was willing to go against the world for his love.
"Anjali, lets adopt". It was something both of us had thought of but this was the moment that really made me feel that it was the right thing for her, for myself and for our future. She came out of the embrace and looked at me in the eyes. Her baby-like face all swollen up. She gave me a small peck on my lips, smiled and embraced me again.
We went back to the dining room. We had a low-lying table and we always ate sitting on the low lying cushions. The low hanging lamp giving enough light for us to come back to normal. We spoke, we laughed and went back to the balcony. I sat on the swing and she sat on my lap.
"Now that we are adopting, should we have a girl or a boy?", just hoping that she would say 'Girl'.
"We will call her Riya", she said. I smiled at her.
We caressed each other and under the clouded skies of Delhi, we made love.
Monday, August 10, 2009
When God Called....
Another attempt at writing a short story....
WHEN GOD CALLED
---------------
I was in a deep slumber, when my phone rang. It was 2.30 am and for that one moment I wished I had Iron hands which could just crush the phone into frickin pieces. I woke up stunned and looked at the ringing screen. The name that flashed was a little shocking, it said 'GOD Calling'. But because i wasnt in proper senses, i decided not to think and pick up the phone. Yet in a span of some three seconds before I picked up and said a Hello, I realised that the only name that came close was 'Lord', my Tamilian Friend Aravaind's nickname which was stored.
After a groggy and agitated 'Hello' I asked, "who is this"?
"I am god, my son", said the queer voiced person.
"So am I", I said jokingly, trying not to sound rude and also parallely getting into my database and doing a look up on all the voices my mind could recognise. The response came back in .00000000000000000000009 seconds. No results found.
"I have no clue who this is. So who is it?", the inquisitiveness meter now rising a little from zero towards 0.5.
"I am who I told you I am. The sole bearer of all in this universe. I am God himself"
What crap I thought. The mind is an amazing machine. In fact it is phenomenal. Zillion thoughts running parallely. I was visualising the start of the T.V. epic Mahabharat where a baritonic voice saying "Main...Something...hoon". Chetan Bhagat's book came to my mind. I visualised plush "heavenly" meadows. Anyways I came back to senses and decided to get to business.
"Dood I am sleepy, no patience or mind to guess or figure out, please tell me who it is", I tried putting it across very softly.
"Okay, my son I know you would not believe me but I am God and this is real".
For the first time in my life I actually pinched myself just to check that I was not dreaming. I still knew it was a prank.
Like a small kid, I asked for evidence, rather a sign that verified his authenticity.
"What about levitating you?? Would you mind if I took you off your bed??"
Uh-oh!!, what if this was for real. I looked at my roomies and they slept like they had'nt heard a thing.
"Well okay, I am not scared and all", I said a little disbelievingly and a little shaken up.
And then the unimaginable thing happened. I slowly rose like Emily Rose. And then this thought that what if her name was Emily Slept, would she have risen??
Anyways, I was above everyone now. I did not even feel anything (like chords and strings). Luckily enough i came down before my mind zonked out of nervousness.
I quickly spoke into the mouthpiece. "Okay I believe you Mr. God, but why are you here and why me?"
"Look son, off late there are too many things happening. There are these usual devotees of mine who keep praying to me, then there these irregular ones who pray to me as per convenience and now in these recessional times, their numbers have increased. I am overloaded with work. I work 24*7 these days. So i needed to share my problems with someone."
That was a weird explanation I thought to my question. It sounded more like a ten liner stolen from Bruce Almighty.
" I have a question though", I asked. "How do you decide on whose problems to solve first, now that i know you exist, how do you do it? Is ther like an algorithm or a queuing systen based on certain categories and is there a priority handling system? How do you multitask with zillions of threads running parallely?"
"So many questions and that too complicated ones. Well, there are many people to share my burden. At the moment, Jesus is handling the USA and LATAM. Allah handles the EMEA region and I along with Krishna and Nanak and Buddha handle APAC because it is highly populated. We keep switching roles".
"That is a lot of work", I said. "Less people, downsizing up there also huh??", I smirked.
"Well, we have put a few people on sabbatical. Jesus has been threatening to leave us for a while because he has been handling a geography with the highest lay-offs and he has not slept for months now. I am worried about him."
It had been 5 minutes into the conversation. I was feeling so many things at the same time but then I thought not to think too much into it as I got this feeling that early morning I would not be remembering a thing (Hoping that this guy would surely use the memory erasing torch like the one in MIB).
"So why me?", I asked
" Well, no specifics here. You are a nice person. Even though you are one of those who pray to me diligently as per convenience, I like the fact that you still say your bed time prayes and sleep at 25. Also, the fact that as long as you were in a relationship, you always prayed for her well being as well. I found it..arrgh..what is that word you people use..ahem..cute...yes I found it cute"
Now I was a little embarassed. Okay I did say my prayers still. But why cute?? That was a girly thing to say. I wondered why he said that.
"Okay, but there are many like me I am sure, so why me?"
"Why do you think so much you bloke? Just be happy that it is you.", he sounded irritated now. "The problem with you is that you think helluva lot. Be cool."
"Hey, by the way, Thanks a ton for getting me the job opportunity. I was quite not myself when I was jobless", I said thankingly.
"That is okay. But be focussed. Do not lose it. You have the potential but you have too many other things on mind". he said with wry smile that I could sense.
"Yep, I know. Do you think I am getting too desperate about this singledom??", I asked.
"You are doing fine. Its just that you think about it too much. Also, the fact that there seems to be this dilemna about arranged marriage that you have and of course your parents."
"Yep, I think so too. Hey, tell me will I get a nice girl? You know what kind I want right?",I asked, somehow sounding like an MCP.
"Yeah, yeah. Just wait and watch"
"So what about you, do you guys marry and all. I mean are you allowed to date?", I asked sarcastically.
"Well, they all come back here dont they son. So, I flirt around too a bit. But then honestly, there is not much time that I have. The IT infrastructrure gets a little slow here at times. So slow processors bundled with loads of work, makes dating a difficult task."
" It just occurred to me. Do you do this often with may people??", I asked a little inquisitively.
"Well you would be surprised but you are the first one. The lucky one I should say.By the way I really liked your work on Polaris Day. Good job. You are a very good guy, but I still have a suggestion. Try not to become a man of success, rather be a man of value. So do not strive to impress others and make an impact. Impress yourself and eventually things will fall in place."
Some gyaan. But essential one at that I thought knowing myself.
"I have this huge doubt", i said. "Is it true that everything is pre-written and stuff and that all has been decided beforehand??", I asked.
"Well that is a tricky question. It is not true. My existence is a truth. Yet, I never appear because I want life to be a journey unknown to people so that they enjoy it. I have the powers to set things straight yet I never use them as I want you all to sort things out for yourselves. Yes there are times when truth and righteousness prevail, that is when i come in but even then it is Karma in action and hey Karma is not a bitch by the way. She is the bitch and the angel. Sadly enough, because people tend to remember all the bad things always thats happened to them, she remains a bitch."
"Okay, and what about my chances of being a writer?? Would I be able to complete my book?", the best question I had asked, yet i knew what was coming, the way he was answering questions.
"Well, you need to keep writing for that. To be honest, you are not confident about that yourself. The day you really think you are ready to write a book, noone can stop you. Not even me. I think it is quite late now. I have to get back to my shift. You sleep well. Catching a bus at 7.15 aint easy kiddo"
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you though. There is so much to ask and talk about. Hey, just one last question. Do you drink??", I asked.
"Haha. Yes we all do. I love Old monk and its sad you do not get any in Chennai."
Before I could say something, the call ended. Th next morning, surprisingly I remembered everything and I looked at my roomies still sleeping. Would anyone believe me if i told them? Why should I, after all I was the special one.
-Vikram
WHEN GOD CALLED
---------------
I was in a deep slumber, when my phone rang. It was 2.30 am and for that one moment I wished I had Iron hands which could just crush the phone into frickin pieces. I woke up stunned and looked at the ringing screen. The name that flashed was a little shocking, it said 'GOD Calling'. But because i wasnt in proper senses, i decided not to think and pick up the phone. Yet in a span of some three seconds before I picked up and said a Hello, I realised that the only name that came close was 'Lord', my Tamilian Friend Aravaind's nickname which was stored.
After a groggy and agitated 'Hello' I asked, "who is this"?
"I am god, my son", said the queer voiced person.
"So am I", I said jokingly, trying not to sound rude and also parallely getting into my database and doing a look up on all the voices my mind could recognise. The response came back in .00000000000000000000009 seconds. No results found.
"I have no clue who this is. So who is it?", the inquisitiveness meter now rising a little from zero towards 0.5.
"I am who I told you I am. The sole bearer of all in this universe. I am God himself"
What crap I thought. The mind is an amazing machine. In fact it is phenomenal. Zillion thoughts running parallely. I was visualising the start of the T.V. epic Mahabharat where a baritonic voice saying "Main...Something...hoon". Chetan Bhagat's book came to my mind. I visualised plush "heavenly" meadows. Anyways I came back to senses and decided to get to business.
"Dood I am sleepy, no patience or mind to guess or figure out, please tell me who it is", I tried putting it across very softly.
"Okay, my son I know you would not believe me but I am God and this is real".
For the first time in my life I actually pinched myself just to check that I was not dreaming. I still knew it was a prank.
Like a small kid, I asked for evidence, rather a sign that verified his authenticity.
"What about levitating you?? Would you mind if I took you off your bed??"
Uh-oh!!, what if this was for real. I looked at my roomies and they slept like they had'nt heard a thing.
"Well okay, I am not scared and all", I said a little disbelievingly and a little shaken up.
And then the unimaginable thing happened. I slowly rose like Emily Rose. And then this thought that what if her name was Emily Slept, would she have risen??
Anyways, I was above everyone now. I did not even feel anything (like chords and strings). Luckily enough i came down before my mind zonked out of nervousness.
I quickly spoke into the mouthpiece. "Okay I believe you Mr. God, but why are you here and why me?"
"Look son, off late there are too many things happening. There are these usual devotees of mine who keep praying to me, then there these irregular ones who pray to me as per convenience and now in these recessional times, their numbers have increased. I am overloaded with work. I work 24*7 these days. So i needed to share my problems with someone."
That was a weird explanation I thought to my question. It sounded more like a ten liner stolen from Bruce Almighty.
" I have a question though", I asked. "How do you decide on whose problems to solve first, now that i know you exist, how do you do it? Is ther like an algorithm or a queuing systen based on certain categories and is there a priority handling system? How do you multitask with zillions of threads running parallely?"
"So many questions and that too complicated ones. Well, there are many people to share my burden. At the moment, Jesus is handling the USA and LATAM. Allah handles the EMEA region and I along with Krishna and Nanak and Buddha handle APAC because it is highly populated. We keep switching roles".
"That is a lot of work", I said. "Less people, downsizing up there also huh??", I smirked.
"Well, we have put a few people on sabbatical. Jesus has been threatening to leave us for a while because he has been handling a geography with the highest lay-offs and he has not slept for months now. I am worried about him."
It had been 5 minutes into the conversation. I was feeling so many things at the same time but then I thought not to think too much into it as I got this feeling that early morning I would not be remembering a thing (Hoping that this guy would surely use the memory erasing torch like the one in MIB).
"So why me?", I asked
" Well, no specifics here. You are a nice person. Even though you are one of those who pray to me diligently as per convenience, I like the fact that you still say your bed time prayes and sleep at 25. Also, the fact that as long as you were in a relationship, you always prayed for her well being as well. I found it..arrgh..what is that word you people use..ahem..cute...yes I found it cute"
Now I was a little embarassed. Okay I did say my prayers still. But why cute?? That was a girly thing to say. I wondered why he said that.
"Okay, but there are many like me I am sure, so why me?"
"Why do you think so much you bloke? Just be happy that it is you.", he sounded irritated now. "The problem with you is that you think helluva lot. Be cool."
"Hey, by the way, Thanks a ton for getting me the job opportunity. I was quite not myself when I was jobless", I said thankingly.
"That is okay. But be focussed. Do not lose it. You have the potential but you have too many other things on mind". he said with wry smile that I could sense.
"Yep, I know. Do you think I am getting too desperate about this singledom??", I asked.
"You are doing fine. Its just that you think about it too much. Also, the fact that there seems to be this dilemna about arranged marriage that you have and of course your parents."
"Yep, I think so too. Hey, tell me will I get a nice girl? You know what kind I want right?",I asked, somehow sounding like an MCP.
"Yeah, yeah. Just wait and watch"
"So what about you, do you guys marry and all. I mean are you allowed to date?", I asked sarcastically.
"Well, they all come back here dont they son. So, I flirt around too a bit. But then honestly, there is not much time that I have. The IT infrastructrure gets a little slow here at times. So slow processors bundled with loads of work, makes dating a difficult task."
" It just occurred to me. Do you do this often with may people??", I asked a little inquisitively.
"Well you would be surprised but you are the first one. The lucky one I should say.By the way I really liked your work on Polaris Day. Good job. You are a very good guy, but I still have a suggestion. Try not to become a man of success, rather be a man of value. So do not strive to impress others and make an impact. Impress yourself and eventually things will fall in place."
Some gyaan. But essential one at that I thought knowing myself.
"I have this huge doubt", i said. "Is it true that everything is pre-written and stuff and that all has been decided beforehand??", I asked.
"Well that is a tricky question. It is not true. My existence is a truth. Yet, I never appear because I want life to be a journey unknown to people so that they enjoy it. I have the powers to set things straight yet I never use them as I want you all to sort things out for yourselves. Yes there are times when truth and righteousness prevail, that is when i come in but even then it is Karma in action and hey Karma is not a bitch by the way. She is the bitch and the angel. Sadly enough, because people tend to remember all the bad things always thats happened to them, she remains a bitch."
"Okay, and what about my chances of being a writer?? Would I be able to complete my book?", the best question I had asked, yet i knew what was coming, the way he was answering questions.
"Well, you need to keep writing for that. To be honest, you are not confident about that yourself. The day you really think you are ready to write a book, noone can stop you. Not even me. I think it is quite late now. I have to get back to my shift. You sleep well. Catching a bus at 7.15 aint easy kiddo"
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you though. There is so much to ask and talk about. Hey, just one last question. Do you drink??", I asked.
"Haha. Yes we all do. I love Old monk and its sad you do not get any in Chennai."
Before I could say something, the call ended. Th next morning, surprisingly I remembered everything and I looked at my roomies still sleeping. Would anyone believe me if i told them? Why should I, after all I was the special one.
-Vikram
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Know myself
random questions...definite answers....know me...LOl
1. Were you named after anyone?
Not really!!A part of my name is my grandfather's (Venkata).
2. When was the last time you cried?
Well..not exactly cry, but I did get misty after watching 'The Motorcycle
Diaries'. I just Loved the movie.
3. Do you like your handwriting?
I hate my handwriting and I hate people who have a good one...LOL
4. What is your favorite lunch meat?
Chicken...anyday
5. Do you have kids?
Nope..
6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you?
No qualms about making friends....yes I would
7. Do you use sarcasm?
Of late I have started to...age is catching up i guess.
8. Do you still have your tonsils?
No tonsils...but I have a bad congestion.
9. Would you bungee jump?
Absolutely.....Absolutely ......and Absolutely
10. What is your favorite cereal?
Cant live without rice....
11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
Sadly...no...m a lazy bugger
12. If you were to pick your own first name, what would it be?
Vikram...without the Venkata
13. What is your favorite ice-cream?
Vanilla...
14. What is the first thing you notice about people?
Whether they try and smile in their conversations...talks zillions about
them.
15. Red or Pink?
RED....pink is girly...and i have no qualms in saying it.
16. Whom do you miss the most?
Okay let me name my closest circle of friends today....Pavan, Vishnu,
Raghav, Meenal, Shruti and Prasenjit....these guys i miss helluva lot.
17. Do you want everyone to complete the list?
No
18. What color clothes are you wearing?
Lavender striped formal shirt and back trousers.
19. What are you listening to right now?
Few of my seniors gossiping about office timings and people...no music to
listen to in office
20. If you were a crayon what color would you be?
Dark Blue
21. Favorite smells?
Brut, Gillette Arctic blue and the smell of petrol
22. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
A female from Vodafone askin me about whether I would go for e-mailing
options on my phone...LOL
23. How do you know the person who sent this to you?
My colleague in office.
24. Favorite sports to watch?
Cricket, lawn tennis and badminton
25. Hair Color?
Black
26. Eye Color?
Black
27. Do you wear contacts?
Glasses only...
28. Favorite Foods?
Indian...Palak Paneer and Tandoori roti...with lassi
29. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings
30. Last movie you watched?
New York
31. What book are you reading right now?
That thing called love by Tuhin Sinha
32. Summer or Winter?
WINTERS
33. Hugs or Kisses?
A hug for sure...kisses still embarass me.
35. Describe your pencil cup?
Donn have one
36. Favorite Artists?
Jagjit singh,All the great Indian singers, Linkin Park, Metallica, RHCP and
System of a down
37. What kind of music are you into?
I listen to everything!!!
38. What is on your mouse pad?
Donn have a mousepad
39. What did you watch on TV last night?
Hehe...nothing cos I never switched it on...not much of a TV freak
40. Favorite Sound(s)?
The sound of the african drums.
41. Do you sing or play an instrument?
Both to a small extent...I play percussion and I sing for myself.
42. What is the farthest you’ve been from home?
I went to UK when I was a kid...
43. Do you have a special talent?
None as i know.
44. Where were you born?
In chennai.
45. Favorite piece of jewelery?
I donn like jewellery
46. How did you meet your spouse/significant other?
Well...No longer in any relationship....so hopin that someone comes along
47. Favorite Song?
Whats yours???
48. Favorite Musical Movie?
Step Up
1. Were you named after anyone?
Not really!!A part of my name is my grandfather's (Venkata).
2. When was the last time you cried?
Well..not exactly cry, but I did get misty after watching 'The Motorcycle
Diaries'. I just Loved the movie.
3. Do you like your handwriting?
I hate my handwriting and I hate people who have a good one...LOL
4. What is your favorite lunch meat?
Chicken...anyday
5. Do you have kids?
Nope..
6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you?
No qualms about making friends....yes I would
7. Do you use sarcasm?
Of late I have started to...age is catching up i guess.
8. Do you still have your tonsils?
No tonsils...but I have a bad congestion.
9. Would you bungee jump?
Absolutely.....Absolutely ......and Absolutely
10. What is your favorite cereal?
Cant live without rice....
11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
Sadly...no...m a lazy bugger
12. If you were to pick your own first name, what would it be?
Vikram...without the Venkata
13. What is your favorite ice-cream?
Vanilla...
14. What is the first thing you notice about people?
Whether they try and smile in their conversations...talks zillions about
them.
15. Red or Pink?
RED....pink is girly...and i have no qualms in saying it.
16. Whom do you miss the most?
Okay let me name my closest circle of friends today....Pavan, Vishnu,
Raghav, Meenal, Shruti and Prasenjit....these guys i miss helluva lot.
17. Do you want everyone to complete the list?
No
18. What color clothes are you wearing?
Lavender striped formal shirt and back trousers.
19. What are you listening to right now?
Few of my seniors gossiping about office timings and people...no music to
listen to in office
20. If you were a crayon what color would you be?
Dark Blue
21. Favorite smells?
Brut, Gillette Arctic blue and the smell of petrol
22. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
A female from Vodafone askin me about whether I would go for e-mailing
options on my phone...LOL
23. How do you know the person who sent this to you?
My colleague in office.
24. Favorite sports to watch?
Cricket, lawn tennis and badminton
25. Hair Color?
Black
26. Eye Color?
Black
27. Do you wear contacts?
Glasses only...
28. Favorite Foods?
Indian...Palak Paneer and Tandoori roti...with lassi
29. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings
30. Last movie you watched?
New York
31. What book are you reading right now?
That thing called love by Tuhin Sinha
32. Summer or Winter?
WINTERS
33. Hugs or Kisses?
A hug for sure...kisses still embarass me.
35. Describe your pencil cup?
Donn have one
36. Favorite Artists?
Jagjit singh,All the great Indian singers, Linkin Park, Metallica, RHCP and
System of a down
37. What kind of music are you into?
I listen to everything!!!
38. What is on your mouse pad?
Donn have a mousepad
39. What did you watch on TV last night?
Hehe...nothing cos I never switched it on...not much of a TV freak
40. Favorite Sound(s)?
The sound of the african drums.
41. Do you sing or play an instrument?
Both to a small extent...I play percussion and I sing for myself.
42. What is the farthest you’ve been from home?
I went to UK when I was a kid...
43. Do you have a special talent?
None as i know.
44. Where were you born?
In chennai.
45. Favorite piece of jewelery?
I donn like jewellery
46. How did you meet your spouse/significant other?
Well...No longer in any relationship....so hopin that someone comes along
47. Favorite Song?
Whats yours???
48. Favorite Musical Movie?
Step Up
Monday, July 20, 2009
Why Did you go??
One of my friends lost a closed one recently. This is for her. I just hope that she is back to normal soon.
There were days we were friends,
There were days you were more than that,
My eyes search for you frantically,
Now that you arent there, I need you the most,
Where have you gone leaving me all alone?
I was young when you always took me out for walks,
Holding my little hand tight, you would tell me about life,
You would tell me that I was the best thing that happened to you both,
You would pick me up and carry me home like a tiny flower ,
Tell me!! where have you gone leaving me all alone?
I remember the days when you would wait for me at nights,
You would sit up late to watch me walk in safe,
You would pry your best to know the special one of mine,
You would always push me through those tough times in life,
Why then, have you gone now leaving me all alone?
You were the first one I would call and would share everything with you,
There were moments of sadness and endless happiness too,
I remember we always took sides to get even with mom,
And you would end up pampering me for livening up the house,
Where have you gone now leaving me all alone?
Even though you are gone away , I can feel your soul around,
I know you will listen every time, I call your name aloud,
It will be the same I promise you, as you are etched within my soul,
I will still talk to you about everything that happens to me in life,
And yet I want to know, why have you gone leaving me alone?
V.V.Vikram
There were days we were friends,
There were days you were more than that,
My eyes search for you frantically,
Now that you arent there, I need you the most,
Where have you gone leaving me all alone?
I was young when you always took me out for walks,
Holding my little hand tight, you would tell me about life,
You would tell me that I was the best thing that happened to you both,
You would pick me up and carry me home like a tiny flower ,
Tell me!! where have you gone leaving me all alone?
I remember the days when you would wait for me at nights,
You would sit up late to watch me walk in safe,
You would pry your best to know the special one of mine,
You would always push me through those tough times in life,
Why then, have you gone now leaving me all alone?
You were the first one I would call and would share everything with you,
There were moments of sadness and endless happiness too,
I remember we always took sides to get even with mom,
And you would end up pampering me for livening up the house,
Where have you gone now leaving me all alone?
Even though you are gone away , I can feel your soul around,
I know you will listen every time, I call your name aloud,
It will be the same I promise you, as you are etched within my soul,
I will still talk to you about everything that happens to me in life,
And yet I want to know, why have you gone leaving me alone?
V.V.Vikram
Monday, July 13, 2009
Reflections: An attempt at song writing
REFLECTIONS
-----------------
Is there truth in my reflections,
Or do I see what I want to see....yeah yeah,
Is there a sense of fascination,
To be a someone whos not me...yeah yeah
With a passion to defy,
I feel like the catcher in the rye,
Always looking for an alibi,
To my reflections, I have turned a blind eye.
I know I live in false utopia,
My brain's all knocked out and I sit tight,
But in this battle with my alter,
The wrong will always win over right.
And I have spread my wings to fly,
This is where I am gonna live and die,
Got a hang of this bitch, shes called life
To my reflections, I have turned blind.
V.V.VIKRAM
-----------------
Is there truth in my reflections,
Or do I see what I want to see....yeah yeah,
Is there a sense of fascination,
To be a someone whos not me...yeah yeah
With a passion to defy,
I feel like the catcher in the rye,
Always looking for an alibi,
To my reflections, I have turned a blind eye.
I know I live in false utopia,
My brain's all knocked out and I sit tight,
But in this battle with my alter,
The wrong will always win over right.
And I have spread my wings to fly,
This is where I am gonna live and die,
Got a hang of this bitch, shes called life
To my reflections, I have turned blind.
V.V.VIKRAM
THAT RUSTY OL' GUITAR
a tribute to Beta Version!!!!
THAT RUSTY OL' GUITAR
Lying in the corner, her soul's so sweet,
She wants to be played with like good ol' times,
She wants to be pushed, she wants to be swayed,
The rusty old guitar still wants it her way.
She wants to be played in the cold air breeze,
Droplets of rain, trickling down her spine,
Oh how she loves it when I pick her up and play,
The rusty old guitar still wants it her way.
Everyones left and gone so far
My rusty ol' guitar...just stay the way you are.
There are days when we smiled and pulled her out,
She leaned on us when we wanted to cry,
We played her all night, we played her all day,
The rusty ol'guitar just stayed awake.
We have all moved on, moving different ways,
Something brings us back to ourselves every day,
Its her, the guitar that makes us feel a rush,
She feels like a woman and she makes us say..
Everyones left and gone so far
My rusty ol' guitar...just stay the way you are.
THAT RUSTY OL' GUITAR
Lying in the corner, her soul's so sweet,
She wants to be played with like good ol' times,
She wants to be pushed, she wants to be swayed,
The rusty old guitar still wants it her way.
She wants to be played in the cold air breeze,
Droplets of rain, trickling down her spine,
Oh how she loves it when I pick her up and play,
The rusty old guitar still wants it her way.
Everyones left and gone so far
My rusty ol' guitar...just stay the way you are.
There are days when we smiled and pulled her out,
She leaned on us when we wanted to cry,
We played her all night, we played her all day,
The rusty ol'guitar just stayed awake.
We have all moved on, moving different ways,
Something brings us back to ourselves every day,
Its her, the guitar that makes us feel a rush,
She feels like a woman and she makes us say..
Everyones left and gone so far
My rusty ol' guitar...just stay the way you are.
Alone I Sit
Some people always remain silent during journeys.....a tribute to them...LOL
Alone she sits, somewhere in the back,
The feeling of aloofness thrills her,
She stays in solitude all the while,
Till she has reached the very last mile.
She looks out the window and she sees a new world,
A world that is empty and yet one that is full,
She reaches out to people by sitting where she is,
She tries to understand them, in it she finds bliss.
She listens to the music, till it starts to haunt,
It takes her on a time machine, in a jiffy she is gone,
She thinks about the future and dwells in the past,
All the time she wishes that this moment should last.
The journey always comes to an end, it happens everyday,
Coming back to the real world, she has to act like its a play,
She waits for the journey back as the day comes to an end,
In that last seat of that dark bus, she is her only friend
V.V.Vikram
Alone she sits, somewhere in the back,
The feeling of aloofness thrills her,
She stays in solitude all the while,
Till she has reached the very last mile.
She looks out the window and she sees a new world,
A world that is empty and yet one that is full,
She reaches out to people by sitting where she is,
She tries to understand them, in it she finds bliss.
She listens to the music, till it starts to haunt,
It takes her on a time machine, in a jiffy she is gone,
She thinks about the future and dwells in the past,
All the time she wishes that this moment should last.
The journey always comes to an end, it happens everyday,
Coming back to the real world, she has to act like its a play,
She waits for the journey back as the day comes to an end,
In that last seat of that dark bus, she is her only friend
V.V.Vikram
Wonder Why????
A thought this one....just a thought....
Many years its been since I heard from her,
Wonder how she must be doing today,
Is she still the same like she used to be,
Or is she like how she acted that day.
Its weird, how once in a very long while,
A ghost comes back to life,
You go back that lane only to find,
The memories are fresh and to stay.
A few words said changed everything,
We trurned strangers in a span of minutes,
What was left were memories,
But she did not care a damn anyways.
I moved on, I had an ego to feed,
I stumbled but I straightened along,
Like the silver screen I played my part,
And i decided it was better this way.
It was friendhip after all, so what was the deal,
Hadnt she understood me enough by then,
I tried my bit to put things on track,
And thats all i have to say.
Every year, a time comes when I sit and think of the past,
The fun, the laughter and the crazy things said,
It was always so much of fun,
You cant do much when some people want to keep a distance anyway.
Many years its been since I heard from her,
Wonder how she must be doing today,
Is she still the same like she used to be,
Or is she like how she acted that day.
Its weird, how once in a very long while,
A ghost comes back to life,
You go back that lane only to find,
The memories are fresh and to stay.
A few words said changed everything,
We trurned strangers in a span of minutes,
What was left were memories,
But she did not care a damn anyways.
I moved on, I had an ego to feed,
I stumbled but I straightened along,
Like the silver screen I played my part,
And i decided it was better this way.
It was friendhip after all, so what was the deal,
Hadnt she understood me enough by then,
I tried my bit to put things on track,
And thats all i have to say.
Every year, a time comes when I sit and think of the past,
The fun, the laughter and the crazy things said,
It was always so much of fun,
You cant do much when some people want to keep a distance anyway.
In search of myself
Its been a while since i posted stuff....but i did not stop writing all this while.....in fact i wrote more than ever before.....so posting it all together...eat this....
There is a fire raging in my heart somewhere,
In my eyes there is a storm that brews,
I feel stranded in this city of none,
Where life is sad and people are confused.
Is there something new that you see in me?
Have I become a stranger for you?
Why am i unable to relate to things here?
Even the mirror fails to acknowledge me.
The heart always looks for reasons to flutter,
Then why has mine turned into a stone,
The heart always looks for times to bond,
Then why do I want to stay alone.
Come hold me and take me back,
Whisper to me my past again,
Take me back to that very place,
Where i knew no sadness, where i knew no pain.
V.V.Vikram
There is a fire raging in my heart somewhere,
In my eyes there is a storm that brews,
I feel stranded in this city of none,
Where life is sad and people are confused.
Is there something new that you see in me?
Have I become a stranger for you?
Why am i unable to relate to things here?
Even the mirror fails to acknowledge me.
The heart always looks for reasons to flutter,
Then why has mine turned into a stone,
The heart always looks for times to bond,
Then why do I want to stay alone.
Come hold me and take me back,
Whisper to me my past again,
Take me back to that very place,
Where i knew no sadness, where i knew no pain.
V.V.Vikram
Saturday, May 23, 2009
The Monotony of Reality Shows
One of the good things about coming back home is that you are reintroduced to the idiot box every time. The last two weeks was catching up time.I have to confess that the sense of reunion with the television and the new IPL season just did not allow me to blog at all. I was for a moment worried whether I will ever get back to writing.
Coming to the point straight away. I have been quite disappointed with what I see on the television these days. This whole plethora of reality shows. Not only are there too many of them but they are re-run zillions of times in a day. So do not lose heart if you missed the politics and scandals of the roadies show or the bitching behind the scenes of a dance show, you can watch it the next day 5 times and so you can watch it 35 times in a week. You will get so familiar with the episode that you will become judgemental and emotional and actually start supporting or hating the characters involved. So the show owners now have their ultimate aim achieved....TRPs!!!
When it started off with the Indian Idol and POPSTARS in India, it was a fresh concept these reality shows. You enjoyed them and now I detest them. I hate it when they leave it to the audience to decide.
I will tell you what happens. Today when I watch a reality show religiously, I want to watch it 'aaram se' with no tension. I dont want to pick up my phone and vote any more. I have done enough of it. When I do not, I somehow see that the deserving ones lose. Then the anchors and judges start blaming you as if you were deciding everything. They instil a feeling of guilt in you. Assuming that i do vote, I still see the deserving ones lose, because in India the voting system for a television show is similar to that of politics. Its caste based and religion based and not talent based.
My favourite TV programme till date has remained SA RE GA MA which was hosted by Sonu Nigam and then Shaan. They always left the decision to the judges and always the best man won. Then you would say that it could never be called a reality show. Who wants one?
The standard of these shows has dropped big time. The kind of language that is used is pretty bad (cos the youngsters are always watching). Reality shows show more bizarre incidents happening on the sets than the concept itself. TRP ke liye saala kuch bhi karega.
Honestly speaking I am completely against censorship and yet ironically people are making so much fuss about content in movies when a simple soap or a show is already causing more harm (to the culture as they say) on a daily basis.
Anyways, I hope these guys realise the monotony they are causing and try and make something different and please to all you owners of the shows- whatever you do, dont ask for votes.
Coming to the point straight away. I have been quite disappointed with what I see on the television these days. This whole plethora of reality shows. Not only are there too many of them but they are re-run zillions of times in a day. So do not lose heart if you missed the politics and scandals of the roadies show or the bitching behind the scenes of a dance show, you can watch it the next day 5 times and so you can watch it 35 times in a week. You will get so familiar with the episode that you will become judgemental and emotional and actually start supporting or hating the characters involved. So the show owners now have their ultimate aim achieved....TRPs!!!
When it started off with the Indian Idol and POPSTARS in India, it was a fresh concept these reality shows. You enjoyed them and now I detest them. I hate it when they leave it to the audience to decide.
I will tell you what happens. Today when I watch a reality show religiously, I want to watch it 'aaram se' with no tension. I dont want to pick up my phone and vote any more. I have done enough of it. When I do not, I somehow see that the deserving ones lose. Then the anchors and judges start blaming you as if you were deciding everything. They instil a feeling of guilt in you. Assuming that i do vote, I still see the deserving ones lose, because in India the voting system for a television show is similar to that of politics. Its caste based and religion based and not talent based.
My favourite TV programme till date has remained SA RE GA MA which was hosted by Sonu Nigam and then Shaan. They always left the decision to the judges and always the best man won. Then you would say that it could never be called a reality show. Who wants one?
The standard of these shows has dropped big time. The kind of language that is used is pretty bad (cos the youngsters are always watching). Reality shows show more bizarre incidents happening on the sets than the concept itself. TRP ke liye saala kuch bhi karega.
Honestly speaking I am completely against censorship and yet ironically people are making so much fuss about content in movies when a simple soap or a show is already causing more harm (to the culture as they say) on a daily basis.
Anyways, I hope these guys realise the monotony they are causing and try and make something different and please to all you owners of the shows- whatever you do, dont ask for votes.
Friday, April 10, 2009
PARTING THROUGH SEASONS
Gone now, just run past me,
Zipped away like a frisbee,
The heat, the sweat, now all gone,
Somewhere a rain cloud seems to be born.
It will rain soon,
It will rain day and noon,
When the night sets in,
Memories will trouble within.
Oh! how I will miss it all,
I shall shout, Alas! noone will call,
But remember this thing my friend,
You shall remain till the end.
The night shall seem a lil older,
It shall now smell a lil different,
The day shall not bring that light again,
I shall have to wake to myself again.
It will be cold soon,
The nights would be longer then,
Time would have passed a little,
Alone with the coffee and the kettle.
Oh! how I will miss it all,
I shall shout, Alas! noone will call,
But remember this thing my friend,
You shall remain till the end.
V.V.VIKRAM
Zipped away like a frisbee,
The heat, the sweat, now all gone,
Somewhere a rain cloud seems to be born.
It will rain soon,
It will rain day and noon,
When the night sets in,
Memories will trouble within.
Oh! how I will miss it all,
I shall shout, Alas! noone will call,
But remember this thing my friend,
You shall remain till the end.
The night shall seem a lil older,
It shall now smell a lil different,
The day shall not bring that light again,
I shall have to wake to myself again.
It will be cold soon,
The nights would be longer then,
Time would have passed a little,
Alone with the coffee and the kettle.
Oh! how I will miss it all,
I shall shout, Alas! noone will call,
But remember this thing my friend,
You shall remain till the end.
V.V.VIKRAM
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
A Letter To You........
Dear SIMSR
Before I really begin to write this one, I find it funny that I am writing a letter but not to a person and that this letter can never be read by you. Yet, I want to write this letter.
To begin with, I want to tell you that I am leaving you. Yes, its true. In another 20 days I will be gone from this campus of yours. Only yesterday was I telling my friend that in the next 20 days there will be the "last few days" for so many things. I have to admit it that there is an intangible bond with you. The last 2 years that I have spent with you have not only been splendid but a great learning experience as well. I have learnt a lot from you. So many of us come and go and yet you stay where you are. You are selfless and always provide the warmth. I will miss walking on your roads when I felt alone and jumping and running around when I felt happy.
I cannot forget the first day when I met you. You seemed like a stranger, a complete one at that. I missed so many people when I came here and how can I forget the rains when I met you. You were flooded. Then I got used to you being there. I met some great people here and I owe you everything for that. I met the bad ones too but then I owe you again for those as well because they taught me what not to do in life.
Technically speaking, you have taught me the art to manage various things and those things include people. I do not really know how much I have managed to learn on that front but I know that I can do a reasonable job out of it. You have made me experience everything here, literally. The moments of joy when I did well in the exams and presentations, when I freaked out with my friends and all those times when I managed to deliver what I was supposed to. There were moments of anxiety during the preparations for the exams as well and yes you also introduced me to some very "great" profs here as well. Profs who made us slog like hell. There were moments of sadness in my personal life which did not last long only because of some great people I met here.
This feeling of leaving you keeps creeping in slowly everyday.It makes me sad and yet it makes me happy. Sad because this is the last phase of my tryst with campus life and happy because you have made me more confident a person. You have also taught me to remain grounded come what may. I want to be as selfless as you and somehow funnily a marketing job may not always permit me to do so.Yet i will try.
Thank you for everything SIMSR. You are the best.
From one of the many students who have experienced life:
Vikram
Before I really begin to write this one, I find it funny that I am writing a letter but not to a person and that this letter can never be read by you. Yet, I want to write this letter.
To begin with, I want to tell you that I am leaving you. Yes, its true. In another 20 days I will be gone from this campus of yours. Only yesterday was I telling my friend that in the next 20 days there will be the "last few days" for so many things. I have to admit it that there is an intangible bond with you. The last 2 years that I have spent with you have not only been splendid but a great learning experience as well. I have learnt a lot from you. So many of us come and go and yet you stay where you are. You are selfless and always provide the warmth. I will miss walking on your roads when I felt alone and jumping and running around when I felt happy.
I cannot forget the first day when I met you. You seemed like a stranger, a complete one at that. I missed so many people when I came here and how can I forget the rains when I met you. You were flooded. Then I got used to you being there. I met some great people here and I owe you everything for that. I met the bad ones too but then I owe you again for those as well because they taught me what not to do in life.
Technically speaking, you have taught me the art to manage various things and those things include people. I do not really know how much I have managed to learn on that front but I know that I can do a reasonable job out of it. You have made me experience everything here, literally. The moments of joy when I did well in the exams and presentations, when I freaked out with my friends and all those times when I managed to deliver what I was supposed to. There were moments of anxiety during the preparations for the exams as well and yes you also introduced me to some very "great" profs here as well. Profs who made us slog like hell. There were moments of sadness in my personal life which did not last long only because of some great people I met here.
This feeling of leaving you keeps creeping in slowly everyday.It makes me sad and yet it makes me happy. Sad because this is the last phase of my tryst with campus life and happy because you have made me more confident a person. You have also taught me to remain grounded come what may. I want to be as selfless as you and somehow funnily a marketing job may not always permit me to do so.Yet i will try.
Thank you for everything SIMSR. You are the best.
From one of the many students who have experienced life:
Vikram
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Furher Bunker
My first attempt to write a story. The story is fictitious and yet in many ways it is true.
7 am, Berlin, Germany,1945
The diluted wine had never had such an effect on him. For that matter he had never had so much of it together. Yet today he wanted to drink. The thought of dying a death such as this was too humiliating. He knew though that any amount and any kind of it would not let this feeling disappear. He was dying today.
He looked around. The room was too dingy. It was a hideout. He was hiding and he could not digest it. For all that he had won, he was just another human today. His mother came to his mind. The most beautiful woman in this world. 'Alois' is what she called him. It was cold and he had never felt so cold. He had a dream which was almost turning into a reality. Now it was all a matter of time. The world would despise him for years to come and yet there would be some who would always look upto him.
Eva was asleep. He looked at her. An angel. For the first time in years and years, he felt emotional. He stood up and looked outside the tiny window. It was early morning, probably 7 am and it would take another 3 hours for them to locate him.
8 am, Berlin, Germany,1945
His mother always told him that he would be the greatest and in a way he was. He was surprised the way he was thinking today. Was it the proximity to death? Till yesterday he felt unstoppable and yet today he was doubting himself. He knew what it was. He had never had the time to question himself twice. It was the flow. it was the expectations his people had of him. His army, his troops all looked upto him like he was the messiah and how can a messiah let his disciples down.
He knew he was a killer and today when he was all alone he felt the feeling overcoming him. He pulled the drawer and took out the pistol. He kept it back. He was shocked. He knew what had happened. He was scared of dying. The greatest man on this earth.A soldier. He was scared of losing his life. Oh!! what a loser he was. He let his thoughts frustrate him a little more. He knew only they could instigate him to kill himself. The guilt will pull the trigger eventually.
9 am, Berlin, Germany,1945
He hated the jews bitterly. He hated them even now and yet he knew why he had not slept a wink in the last 5 years. He was too proud to admit it. He got too carried away. He knew that deep down somewhere he was a cold blooded murderer, a rapist, inhumane and yes he was a narcissist. He loved himself and his ideas so much that he could go any extent to turn them into reality. So many women and children had died.
He suddenly remembered this old woman in a jew apartment that the German army had raided. She was on a wheelchair. All her family members had been shot down and she was crying and wanted to be shot as well. One of the young German officers felt offended by the request. "How dare she request, this motherfucking jew and how dare you oblige by holding the gun at her you bastard" he said to one of his subordinates. He pushed the wheelchair to the edge of the apartment window. He then pushed it out along with the woman. She fell 3 stories and died. He was there standing right next to him. For one moment he was appalled and yet he felt powerful.How stupid he was.
Suddenly he felt his eyes wet and then he started crying. He had not cried in ages and yet today he saw a different side of himself. Eva suddenly got up and noticed him. She came next to him to comfort him. He then heard a jeep and murmurs in Russian.
10 am, Berlin, Germany,1945
He quickly opened the drawer and took out the revolver. He moved to the bed and kissed Eva. He told her how sorry he was and how much he loved her. He killed her first and then he killed himself. The Russians broke in. The captain looked at the bodies and smiled. He told his subordinate to send a wire immediately to the colonel," Tell him that Hitler is dead".
7 am, Berlin, Germany,1945
The diluted wine had never had such an effect on him. For that matter he had never had so much of it together. Yet today he wanted to drink. The thought of dying a death such as this was too humiliating. He knew though that any amount and any kind of it would not let this feeling disappear. He was dying today.
He looked around. The room was too dingy. It was a hideout. He was hiding and he could not digest it. For all that he had won, he was just another human today. His mother came to his mind. The most beautiful woman in this world. 'Alois' is what she called him. It was cold and he had never felt so cold. He had a dream which was almost turning into a reality. Now it was all a matter of time. The world would despise him for years to come and yet there would be some who would always look upto him.
Eva was asleep. He looked at her. An angel. For the first time in years and years, he felt emotional. He stood up and looked outside the tiny window. It was early morning, probably 7 am and it would take another 3 hours for them to locate him.
8 am, Berlin, Germany,1945
His mother always told him that he would be the greatest and in a way he was. He was surprised the way he was thinking today. Was it the proximity to death? Till yesterday he felt unstoppable and yet today he was doubting himself. He knew what it was. He had never had the time to question himself twice. It was the flow. it was the expectations his people had of him. His army, his troops all looked upto him like he was the messiah and how can a messiah let his disciples down.
He knew he was a killer and today when he was all alone he felt the feeling overcoming him. He pulled the drawer and took out the pistol. He kept it back. He was shocked. He knew what had happened. He was scared of dying. The greatest man on this earth.A soldier. He was scared of losing his life. Oh!! what a loser he was. He let his thoughts frustrate him a little more. He knew only they could instigate him to kill himself. The guilt will pull the trigger eventually.
9 am, Berlin, Germany,1945
He hated the jews bitterly. He hated them even now and yet he knew why he had not slept a wink in the last 5 years. He was too proud to admit it. He got too carried away. He knew that deep down somewhere he was a cold blooded murderer, a rapist, inhumane and yes he was a narcissist. He loved himself and his ideas so much that he could go any extent to turn them into reality. So many women and children had died.
He suddenly remembered this old woman in a jew apartment that the German army had raided. She was on a wheelchair. All her family members had been shot down and she was crying and wanted to be shot as well. One of the young German officers felt offended by the request. "How dare she request, this motherfucking jew and how dare you oblige by holding the gun at her you bastard" he said to one of his subordinates. He pushed the wheelchair to the edge of the apartment window. He then pushed it out along with the woman. She fell 3 stories and died. He was there standing right next to him. For one moment he was appalled and yet he felt powerful.How stupid he was.
Suddenly he felt his eyes wet and then he started crying. He had not cried in ages and yet today he saw a different side of himself. Eva suddenly got up and noticed him. She came next to him to comfort him. He then heard a jeep and murmurs in Russian.
10 am, Berlin, Germany,1945
He quickly opened the drawer and took out the revolver. He moved to the bed and kissed Eva. He told her how sorry he was and how much he loved her. He killed her first and then he killed himself. The Russians broke in. The captain looked at the bodies and smiled. He told his subordinate to send a wire immediately to the colonel," Tell him that Hitler is dead".
Sunday, March 8, 2009
I salute the skies.....
An average of 7 IAF jets crash every year in India. Many Indian pilots have lost their lives in this process. We tend to remember those who lose their lives on the battlefield and yet for a defence personnel everyday is like a battlefield. The pilots of the IAF fly everyday and conduct test runs to keep themselves prepared for a war. Many lose their lives. This poem is dedicated to all those who lost their lives in many such test runs. I salute the families who with strength and confidence send the pilots into the skies to do their job. For me they, our pilots, are the sky itself.
เคเคเคฐी เค เคฒเคตिเคฆा
เคฌाเคฆเคฒों เคो เคूเคฎเคคा เคฅा เคฐोเค़ เคฎैं ,
เคจिเคเคฒเคคा เคฅा เคเคाเคถों เคी เคธैเคฐ เคชเคฐ,
เคธเคฌเคธे เคเคชเคฐ, เคธเคฌเคธे เคฆूเคฐ เคเคฐ เคธเคฌเคธे เคคेเค़,
เค เคชเคจे เคเคฐ เคो เคขूँเคขเคจे เคी เคोเคถिเคถ เคिเคฏा เคเคฐเคคा เคฅा.
เคฎเคจ्เคจ เคคो เคนเคฎेเคถा เคिเคฏा เคी เคฒे เคเคฒूँ เคเคธे เคญी,
เคฆिเคाเคं เคฆुเคจिเคฏा เคเค เค เคฒเค เคธी, เคเค เค เคจोเคा เคธเคซ़เคฐ,
เคธाเคฅ เคฅा เคเคธเคा เคी เคฎैं เคจिเคกเคฐ เคนोเคे เคเคฒा เคाเคคा เคฅा,
เคงเคฐเคคी เคो เคूเคคे เคนी เคเคฐ เคฒौเค เคเคคा เคฅा.
เคुเคฆ เคो เคฆेเคเคคा เคฅा เคเคธ เคोเคे เคธे เคฎुเค เคฎें,
เคนाเคฅ เคฎें เคนोเคคी เคฅी เคเคธเคी เคเค เคोเคी เคธी เคช्เคฒेเคจ,
'เคฌเคจूँเคा เคฎैं เคญी เคเคชเคे เคैเคธा' เคฌोเคฒเคคा เคฅा,
เคเค ा เคे เคเคธเคो เคฒเคा เคฒेเคคा เคฅा เคเคฒे เคฎैं.
เค เคฌ เคญी เคเคจ्เคนी เคฌाเคฆเคฒों เคฎें เคนूँ เคฎैं,
เค เคฌ เคญी เคนूँ เคเคจ्เคนी เคे เคธाเคฅ เคเคฐ เคฐเคนूँเคा,
เคญเคฒे เคนी เค เคฌ เคเคฐ เคตाเคชिเคธ เคจा เคा เคธเคूं,
เคญเคฒे เคนी เคเคจ्เคนें เคเคฒे เคจ เคฒเคा เคธเคूं,
เคนूँ เคฎैं เคเคจ्เคนी เคे เคธाเคฅ เคนเคฎेเคถा .
V.V.Vikram
เคเคเคฐी เค เคฒเคตिเคฆा
เคฌाเคฆเคฒों เคो เคूเคฎเคคा เคฅा เคฐोเค़ เคฎैं ,
เคจिเคเคฒเคคा เคฅा เคเคाเคถों เคी เคธैเคฐ เคชเคฐ,
เคธเคฌเคธे เคเคชเคฐ, เคธเคฌเคธे เคฆूเคฐ เคเคฐ เคธเคฌเคธे เคคेเค़,
เค เคชเคจे เคเคฐ เคो เคขूँเคขเคจे เคी เคोเคถिเคถ เคिเคฏा เคเคฐเคคा เคฅा.
เคฎเคจ्เคจ เคคो เคนเคฎेเคถा เคिเคฏा เคी เคฒे เคเคฒूँ เคเคธे เคญी,
เคฆिเคाเคं เคฆुเคจिเคฏा เคเค เค เคฒเค เคธी, เคเค เค เคจोเคा เคธเคซ़เคฐ,
เคธाเคฅ เคฅा เคเคธเคा เคी เคฎैं เคจिเคกเคฐ เคนोเคे เคเคฒा เคाเคคा เคฅा,
เคงเคฐเคคी เคो เคूเคคे เคนी เคเคฐ เคฒौเค เคเคคा เคฅा.
เคुเคฆ เคो เคฆेเคเคคा เคฅा เคเคธ เคोเคे เคธे เคฎुเค เคฎें,
เคนाเคฅ เคฎें เคนोเคคी เคฅी เคเคธเคी เคเค เคोเคी เคธी เคช्เคฒेเคจ,
'เคฌเคจूँเคा เคฎैं เคญी เคเคชเคे เคैเคธा' เคฌोเคฒเคคा เคฅा,
เคเค ा เคे เคเคธเคो เคฒเคा เคฒेเคคा เคฅा เคเคฒे เคฎैं.
เค เคฌ เคญी เคเคจ्เคนी เคฌाเคฆเคฒों เคฎें เคนूँ เคฎैं,
เค เคฌ เคญी เคนूँ เคเคจ्เคนी เคे เคธाเคฅ เคเคฐ เคฐเคนूँเคा,
เคญเคฒे เคนी เค เคฌ เคเคฐ เคตाเคชिเคธ เคจा เคा เคธเคूं,
เคญเคฒे เคนी เคเคจ्เคนें เคเคฒे เคจ เคฒเคा เคธเคूं,
เคนूँ เคฎैं เคเคจ्เคนी เคे เคธाเคฅ เคนเคฎेเคถा .
V.V.Vikram
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Of Modern Traditions!!!
In India, there is sometimes a trade-off bewteen tradions and practicality. These trade-offs can cost a lot at times.There is Anger and frustration at the end of it. Is it worth it?
Indian traditions have always been a binding factor. We owe a lot to these traditions. In fact they are the core of our so called Value system. Yet, sometimes the same traditions demand too much of a person. There are two friends of mine. A Man and a woman. Well...yes they were in love with each other and were highly committed. The girl is getting older by "Indian standards" for her marriage. She goes after the guy big time and pressurises him. The guy has an older brother who is still unmarried and this guy cannot get married till his older brother does. What happens next is sadly a common story in India. The Girl gets no further extension from home and the guy cannot get married due to old traditions. Its worse than a Catch-22. They Break up.
Wish parents could understand. Wish the society could. In this case, wish the older brother was sensible and practical enough to make the guy's parents understand that it was okay for his younger brother to get married first. Wish the girl's parents could wait a little longer. But then its never an easy situation with parents always vouching for arranged marriage over love marriage in India. When its love marriage, even the most accomodating parent ceases to budge and give room for practicality.
So whats the solution? I wish I had known. When it comes to marriage,families reunite...families get bigger. You see uncles and aunts you had never seen and spoken to. Huge egos are at stake. The boy and the girl feel as if marriage is the biggest event and the sole purpose why the parents are on this earth. Rest all seems inconsequesntial.
I am a great believer in Indian traditions. I am fsacinated and am in awe of them. The reason being that every tradition has a meaning to it and every individual finds his own element in each. Yet some can change lives for worse. There has to be a point where one needs to thing from the head and not from the heart. I just hope that we the current generation think more pragmatically when required and imbibe the same into the next one.
Indian traditions have always been a binding factor. We owe a lot to these traditions. In fact they are the core of our so called Value system. Yet, sometimes the same traditions demand too much of a person. There are two friends of mine. A Man and a woman. Well...yes they were in love with each other and were highly committed. The girl is getting older by "Indian standards" for her marriage. She goes after the guy big time and pressurises him. The guy has an older brother who is still unmarried and this guy cannot get married till his older brother does. What happens next is sadly a common story in India. The Girl gets no further extension from home and the guy cannot get married due to old traditions. Its worse than a Catch-22. They Break up.
Wish parents could understand. Wish the society could. In this case, wish the older brother was sensible and practical enough to make the guy's parents understand that it was okay for his younger brother to get married first. Wish the girl's parents could wait a little longer. But then its never an easy situation with parents always vouching for arranged marriage over love marriage in India. When its love marriage, even the most accomodating parent ceases to budge and give room for practicality.
So whats the solution? I wish I had known. When it comes to marriage,families reunite...families get bigger. You see uncles and aunts you had never seen and spoken to. Huge egos are at stake. The boy and the girl feel as if marriage is the biggest event and the sole purpose why the parents are on this earth. Rest all seems inconsequesntial.
I am a great believer in Indian traditions. I am fsacinated and am in awe of them. The reason being that every tradition has a meaning to it and every individual finds his own element in each. Yet some can change lives for worse. There has to be a point where one needs to thing from the head and not from the heart. I just hope that we the current generation think more pragmatically when required and imbibe the same into the next one.
Friday, February 20, 2009
เคซुเคเคชाเคฅ
This piece in hindi is written with a hope that one day there will be no poverty in our country anymore.
เคคเคชเคคी เคงूเคช เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เคฎैंเคจे เคฌिเคคाเค เคนै เค़िเคจ्เคฆเคी เคธเคก़เคों เคชเคฐ,
เคซुเคเคชाเคฅों เคชเคฐ เคฎैंเคจे เคซैเคฒाเค เคนै เคोเคฒी,
เคธिเค्เคจเคฒों เคชเคฐ เคฅเคชเคฅเคชाเค เคฎैंเคจे เคนเคฐ เคाเคฐ เคी เคिเคก्เคी.
เคญूเค เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เคाเคฒी เคชेเค เคธोเคฏी เคนूँ เคฆिเคจों เคคเค,
เคจเฅเคฐ เคฐเคเคคी เคนूँ เคฐोเค़ เคเคจ เคซेเคे เคนुเค เคจिเคตाเคฒों เคชเคฐ,
เคฌाเคธी เคाเคจे เคो เคญी เคाเคต เคธे เคाเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे .
เคเค्เค़เคค เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เคนเคฐ เคคเคฐเคน เคी เคจเฅเคฐ เคो เคฆेเคा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे,
เคเคฐ เคธเคฌเคธे เคाเคจ เคฌเคाเคฏी เคนै,
เคนเคฐ เคธिเค्เคे เคी เค เคนเคฎिเคฏเคค เคाเคจी เคนै เคฎैंเคจे.
เค़िเคจ्เคฆเคी เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เค्เคฏा เคाเคจा เคนै เคคुเคฎเคจे เคเคคเคจा เคชा เคเคฐ?
เคฎเคฐเคจे เคी เคाเคน เคो เคฐोเค़ เคฆเคฌाเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे,
เคुเคฆ เคो เคुเคฆ เคธे เคฒเคก़เคจा เคธिเคाเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे.
เคฆुःเค เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เคธเคฌ เคुเค เคोเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे,
เค เคฌ เคฒเคाเคต เคจเคนीं เคฐเคนเคคा เคिเคธी เคीเค़ เคธे,
เคนเคฐ เคฎोเคก़ เคชเคฐ เคธเคฌ เคเคตाเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे .
V.V.Vikram
เคคเคชเคคी เคงूเคช เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เคฎैंเคจे เคฌिเคคाเค เคนै เค़िเคจ्เคฆเคी เคธเคก़เคों เคชเคฐ,
เคซुเคเคชाเคฅों เคชเคฐ เคฎैंเคจे เคซैเคฒाเค เคนै เคोเคฒी,
เคธिเค्เคจเคฒों เคชเคฐ เคฅเคชเคฅเคชाเค เคฎैंเคจे เคนเคฐ เคाเคฐ เคी เคिเคก्เคी.
เคญूเค เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เคाเคฒी เคชेเค เคธोเคฏी เคนूँ เคฆिเคจों เคคเค,
เคจเฅเคฐ เคฐเคเคคी เคนूँ เคฐोเค़ เคเคจ เคซेเคे เคนुเค เคจिเคตाเคฒों เคชเคฐ,
เคฌाเคธी เคाเคจे เคो เคญी เคाเคต เคธे เคाเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे .
เคเค्เค़เคค เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เคนเคฐ เคคเคฐเคน เคी เคจเฅเคฐ เคो เคฆेเคा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे,
เคเคฐ เคธเคฌเคธे เคाเคจ เคฌเคाเคฏी เคนै,
เคนเคฐ เคธिเค्เคे เคी เค เคนเคฎिเคฏเคค เคाเคจी เคนै เคฎैंเคจे.
เค़िเคจ्เคฆเคी เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เค्เคฏा เคाเคจा เคนै เคคुเคฎเคจे เคเคคเคจा เคชा เคเคฐ?
เคฎเคฐเคจे เคी เคाเคน เคो เคฐोเค़ เคฆเคฌाเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे,
เคुเคฆ เคो เคुเคฆ เคธे เคฒเคก़เคจा เคธिเคाเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे.
เคฆुःเค เคी เคฌाเคคें เคจा เคเคฐो เคฎुเคเคธे,
เคธเคฌ เคुเค เคोเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे,
เค เคฌ เคฒเคाเคต เคจเคนीं เคฐเคนเคคा เคिเคธी เคीเค़ เคธे,
เคนเคฐ เคฎोเคก़ เคชเคฐ เคธเคฌ เคเคตाเคฏा เคนै เคฎैंเคจे .
V.V.Vikram
Monday, February 16, 2009
Fly high.....and land
The most used word in the entire course of my MBA is 'External Environment'. My Prof says that unless a firm changes with the changes in the external environment, it will become obsolete. All throughout my MBA i have learnt this one thing, that adaptability is the key to success, especially for firms. I wonder though whether it applies to humans as well. Darwin says it does and is necessary. But change at what cost??
I have seen people change...entirely. New people altogether. Transformed. It frightens me at times. Its good that people change because they need to transform in order to live better and deliver better. But should the change get into your head?? Can it sweep you off your feet?? What if it changes you for life? What if you change so much that you lose your humility? What if the change starts playing with your head? What if you start looking down upon people? What if its starts making you feel that you are the best???
Then its a problem i guess. In an interview with one of the companies, the interviewer asked me as to which were those two qualities that are essential to succeed in an organisation. I replied "Humility and hardwork". He then asked me how something like humility fit in in a profession like sales. He asked me what if someone overtook me by being smart and arrogant. I said i would be happy being at the same place as i would do what i felt was right. Was it wrong to say something like it today. Are we so desperate to beat the other in our professional and personal lives? What do we want to prove by being superior over the other?
For me the most important thing is to be humble. It will always be. I cant stand people who fly off the ground never to come back. I believe that unless you stick to the soil, you will never understand what is happening around. At the same time i do understand and believe that self respect comes higher and one cannot forego of it at the cost of being humble but one cannot lose respect for others too. The greatness about a tree is just that. It is tall and yet its is deeply grounded due to its roots.
I have seen people change...entirely. New people altogether. Transformed. It frightens me at times. Its good that people change because they need to transform in order to live better and deliver better. But should the change get into your head?? Can it sweep you off your feet?? What if it changes you for life? What if you change so much that you lose your humility? What if the change starts playing with your head? What if you start looking down upon people? What if its starts making you feel that you are the best???
Then its a problem i guess. In an interview with one of the companies, the interviewer asked me as to which were those two qualities that are essential to succeed in an organisation. I replied "Humility and hardwork". He then asked me how something like humility fit in in a profession like sales. He asked me what if someone overtook me by being smart and arrogant. I said i would be happy being at the same place as i would do what i felt was right. Was it wrong to say something like it today. Are we so desperate to beat the other in our professional and personal lives? What do we want to prove by being superior over the other?
For me the most important thing is to be humble. It will always be. I cant stand people who fly off the ground never to come back. I believe that unless you stick to the soil, you will never understand what is happening around. At the same time i do understand and believe that self respect comes higher and one cannot forego of it at the cost of being humble but one cannot lose respect for others too. The greatness about a tree is just that. It is tall and yet its is deeply grounded due to its roots.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
26/11
This poem is dedicated to all those men guarding the borders of this vast nation, as they protect us everyday so that we can live our lives at peace.
Tragedy struck Mumbai on 26/11,
Few ruthless men with an evil ploy,
Took control of the Taj and Oberoi,
As the world watched helpless in horror,
They played around with bullets and fire.
Many were trapped and many were slain,
These ones from across the border were indeed insane,
They killed young ones and did not spare women,
Sadly enough they called themselves men.
Men were those who went inside,
To protect their own, they lost their lives,
Men were those who lost loved ones,
And inspite of the grief, served their countrymen with pride.
The men of terror were brought down to dust,
By men who delivered, the men you could trust,
Even though it ended, there was an eerie silence,
Rage and Anger became the aftermath of violence.
Only when it ended did it really sink in,
The terror attack had instilled a fear within,
And inspite of the fear we dare to be normal today,
'We still believe in peace' is what Mumbaikars say.
Lets salute our martyrs who gave up their lives,
To keep us protected and keep India's glory alive,
Oh Men of honour!! We pray for you and your families,
We thank you, for you have given a new meaning to our lives.
V.V.Vikram
Tragedy struck Mumbai on 26/11,
Few ruthless men with an evil ploy,
Took control of the Taj and Oberoi,
As the world watched helpless in horror,
They played around with bullets and fire.
Many were trapped and many were slain,
These ones from across the border were indeed insane,
They killed young ones and did not spare women,
Sadly enough they called themselves men.
Men were those who went inside,
To protect their own, they lost their lives,
Men were those who lost loved ones,
And inspite of the grief, served their countrymen with pride.
The men of terror were brought down to dust,
By men who delivered, the men you could trust,
Even though it ended, there was an eerie silence,
Rage and Anger became the aftermath of violence.
Only when it ended did it really sink in,
The terror attack had instilled a fear within,
And inspite of the fear we dare to be normal today,
'We still believe in peace' is what Mumbaikars say.
Lets salute our martyrs who gave up their lives,
To keep us protected and keep India's glory alive,
Oh Men of honour!! We pray for you and your families,
We thank you, for you have given a new meaning to our lives.
V.V.Vikram
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The Stranger
As he walked back into those streets,
A wave of emotions engulfed him,
Memories hit him hard,
He called out names he had once known.
The names echoed in the empty streets,
Like the apparitions introducing themselves,
The air smelt of damp soil and rusted roofs,
He looked around for those he had left.
At the end of the little road was a ruined house,
As he pushed open the half broken gate,
The creaking noise created a flutter amongst the pigeons,
Faint noises of the past rang in his ears.
He knocked on the door with anticipation,
He heard faint footsteps and the door opened,
A face known and yet unknown emerged like a ghost,
He had returned home from the chaos of the city.
V.V.Vikram
A wave of emotions engulfed him,
Memories hit him hard,
He called out names he had once known.
The names echoed in the empty streets,
Like the apparitions introducing themselves,
The air smelt of damp soil and rusted roofs,
He looked around for those he had left.
At the end of the little road was a ruined house,
As he pushed open the half broken gate,
The creaking noise created a flutter amongst the pigeons,
Faint noises of the past rang in his ears.
He knocked on the door with anticipation,
He heard faint footsteps and the door opened,
A face known and yet unknown emerged like a ghost,
He had returned home from the chaos of the city.
V.V.Vikram
Thursday, January 22, 2009
I HAVE SEEN IT ALL
I have seen it all, says she,
Within these four walls, I have seen life,
I have seen them come and go,
I have seen them struggle and succeed.
I have seen friendships blossom,
I have seen them argue,
I have seen the best of the presentations,
I have seen the worst of the lectures,
I have seen them sleep,
I have seen them coming late,
I have seen them study hard,
I have seen determination too.
I have heard the abuses,
I have heard them sing songs,
I have seen them going out early,
I have seen classes that last long.
They come and they go,
Yet I stay forever,
Witnessing miracles in the simplest ways,
I am the classroom of an Mba
V.V.VIKRAM
Within these four walls, I have seen life,
I have seen them come and go,
I have seen them struggle and succeed.
I have seen friendships blossom,
I have seen them argue,
I have seen the best of the presentations,
I have seen the worst of the lectures,
I have seen them sleep,
I have seen them coming late,
I have seen them study hard,
I have seen determination too.
I have heard the abuses,
I have heard them sing songs,
I have seen them going out early,
I have seen classes that last long.
They come and they go,
Yet I stay forever,
Witnessing miracles in the simplest ways,
I am the classroom of an Mba
V.V.VIKRAM
Friday, January 16, 2009
Q&A: The Good, The Bad and The Neutral
One normal day and three thought provoking questions. All from different spheres of life. Thinking about the answers, honestly took me a long time.
Question 1: (Scene- 10 am , having coffee with my 88 years old grand ma and so sleepy that I was least prepared for a serious conversation )
I was sipping hot filter coffee and cursing the American government for not stopping Israel from bombing Palestine. My grandma suddenly heard me muttering abuses when she said, “ You are an MBA now, so tell me now that India is slated to become the next superpower , will we also behave the same 4 decades down the lane and if not, then why do you think we will not?”
I was shaken up from my deep slumber and did not know what to say. I could have given her a random answer but i wanted to think because the question was interesting and tricky, but I said I would want to think about it and answer.
Question 2: (Scene- 5 pm, sitting next to the most intelligent and vociferous girl, lets call her C, I could ever come across in my life. I was always prepared for the most twisted conversations with C but this one caught me by surprise)
I was watching out of the car window at a decorated vehicle with a “Just Married” sign on it. Suddenly C tells me that 80% of married girls are shit scared and paranoid and worried when they sit in that car and are off to the groom’s house. The drive in the decorated vehicle is like passing though a graveyard after midnight. Then she was telling me as to how things have deteriorated with more money. The Question was – “Will you allow the girl’s family to pay entirely for the marriage as per custom or will you share the marriage costs 50-50 as its your marriage as well?” . My reaction as always was,” how the F#$%$ does she think about so hatke”.
Well again I never gave away the answer immediately and told her that I needed to think because this again was tricky and practical.
Question 3: (Scene- 9 pm, catching up with friends, we finally started discussing our favourite topics- G.I.R.L.S and we were always disappointed with the Indian girls. Few pegs down we decided that today’s Indian girls were the most confused species on this earth)
My friend K is going through a very tough typical phase in his life. He had had a break up with his girlfriend and was so used to her that he felt terribly lonely. He needed a friend (and just a friend mind you)and somehow he realised that girls specially were very difficult to approach. His question was clichรฉd and yet it of all 3 questions was the most difficult to answer,” Why are Indian girls so cautious about guys around and why do they never open up easily? Why do they always believe that guys always look for love and not friendship?”
A real toughie and not because its a 2 in 1 question but because girls are labyrinthine creatures.
When I think of it, I can tell you that the one thing common across the questions is the Indian culture. Sadly enough what unites us all today is also in a way the reason for the many problems that arise in the country.India is facing the typical problems that a developing nation faces when it is on its way to become a developed one. I hate the word “superpower” because I believe that it portrays arrogance and India could become anything but it can never be arrogant. When we reach there, and I am sure in another 3 decades we will be there, we will be ahead of the other developed nations only because of our culture and value system. We will be big but will never let others know about it. We will be rich but will also give at the same time. We will be unstoppable and yet we will never forget the friends on the way. So the answer to my Grandma’s question is that we will be a superpower, but one with a difference.
When I started to think about C’s question I realised the relevance of it. Why should the girl’s side bear all the costs of the marriage? After all it is the guy who is getting married as well. We tend to hide behind norms and customs and take advantage of them. We let impractical customs continue because they have been happening from olden times. The father of the girl saves and saves and blows it up for his daughter’s marriage to end up, at times, without a pie for the family post-marriage. What about the guy who is earning big bucks in the US of A sitting in the plush office in silicon valley. He is probably earning more than what the FIL can save. Is he not to contribute to his own marriage? The answer to your question C, is “ Thank you, you opened my eyes. Yes i will contribute 50-50. I have an ego and it is my marriage as well”.
Girls!!! Phew!!!. Complex creatures man. Yet they are quite stuck up I feel in the culture of today. Men have always had the advantage of well being men. Never stopped. Never questioned. Girls are opening up today and yet they are stuck in between cultural shifts and their emotions. Their outlook is guided by parental pressures, holdups and their desires. Men are no less but girls seek attention and yet don’t allow guys beyond a certain limit of their range. Girls are not safe no longer in Independent India. They cannot roam around like guys beyond a time, they are not encouraged to study. Improve the conditions and girls will change for good. I respect them and I don’t mean to sound like an MCP. I believe that they are cautious more because of external factors than internal ones.
Question 1: (Scene- 10 am , having coffee with my 88 years old grand ma and so sleepy that I was least prepared for a serious conversation )
I was sipping hot filter coffee and cursing the American government for not stopping Israel from bombing Palestine. My grandma suddenly heard me muttering abuses when she said, “ You are an MBA now, so tell me now that India is slated to become the next superpower , will we also behave the same 4 decades down the lane and if not, then why do you think we will not?”
I was shaken up from my deep slumber and did not know what to say. I could have given her a random answer but i wanted to think because the question was interesting and tricky, but I said I would want to think about it and answer.
Question 2: (Scene- 5 pm, sitting next to the most intelligent and vociferous girl, lets call her C, I could ever come across in my life. I was always prepared for the most twisted conversations with C but this one caught me by surprise)
I was watching out of the car window at a decorated vehicle with a “Just Married” sign on it. Suddenly C tells me that 80% of married girls are shit scared and paranoid and worried when they sit in that car and are off to the groom’s house. The drive in the decorated vehicle is like passing though a graveyard after midnight. Then she was telling me as to how things have deteriorated with more money. The Question was – “Will you allow the girl’s family to pay entirely for the marriage as per custom or will you share the marriage costs 50-50 as its your marriage as well?” . My reaction as always was,” how the F#$%$ does she think about so hatke”.
Well again I never gave away the answer immediately and told her that I needed to think because this again was tricky and practical.
Question 3: (Scene- 9 pm, catching up with friends, we finally started discussing our favourite topics- G.I.R.L.S and we were always disappointed with the Indian girls. Few pegs down we decided that today’s Indian girls were the most confused species on this earth)
My friend K is going through a very tough typical phase in his life. He had had a break up with his girlfriend and was so used to her that he felt terribly lonely. He needed a friend (and just a friend mind you)and somehow he realised that girls specially were very difficult to approach. His question was clichรฉd and yet it of all 3 questions was the most difficult to answer,” Why are Indian girls so cautious about guys around and why do they never open up easily? Why do they always believe that guys always look for love and not friendship?”
A real toughie and not because its a 2 in 1 question but because girls are labyrinthine creatures.
When I think of it, I can tell you that the one thing common across the questions is the Indian culture. Sadly enough what unites us all today is also in a way the reason for the many problems that arise in the country.India is facing the typical problems that a developing nation faces when it is on its way to become a developed one. I hate the word “superpower” because I believe that it portrays arrogance and India could become anything but it can never be arrogant. When we reach there, and I am sure in another 3 decades we will be there, we will be ahead of the other developed nations only because of our culture and value system. We will be big but will never let others know about it. We will be rich but will also give at the same time. We will be unstoppable and yet we will never forget the friends on the way. So the answer to my Grandma’s question is that we will be a superpower, but one with a difference.
When I started to think about C’s question I realised the relevance of it. Why should the girl’s side bear all the costs of the marriage? After all it is the guy who is getting married as well. We tend to hide behind norms and customs and take advantage of them. We let impractical customs continue because they have been happening from olden times. The father of the girl saves and saves and blows it up for his daughter’s marriage to end up, at times, without a pie for the family post-marriage. What about the guy who is earning big bucks in the US of A sitting in the plush office in silicon valley. He is probably earning more than what the FIL can save. Is he not to contribute to his own marriage? The answer to your question C, is “ Thank you, you opened my eyes. Yes i will contribute 50-50. I have an ego and it is my marriage as well”.
Girls!!! Phew!!!. Complex creatures man. Yet they are quite stuck up I feel in the culture of today. Men have always had the advantage of well being men. Never stopped. Never questioned. Girls are opening up today and yet they are stuck in between cultural shifts and their emotions. Their outlook is guided by parental pressures, holdups and their desires. Men are no less but girls seek attention and yet don’t allow guys beyond a certain limit of their range. Girls are not safe no longer in Independent India. They cannot roam around like guys beyond a time, they are not encouraged to study. Improve the conditions and girls will change for good. I respect them and I don’t mean to sound like an MCP. I believe that they are cautious more because of external factors than internal ones.
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