Have you read this book ?

 

The rider goes : An octane mix of people, media, movies, politics, religion, cricket, terrorism,regionalism and the rupee. 

The plot :A terrorist outfit about to unleash project mayhem during the north vs south final cricket match; a counter terrorist group trying to foil the bid; a party inciting communal riots for vote bank politics; a TRP ratings crazy media mogul; a scandalized god man trying to regain his lost glory; a film star about to make his last curtain call; a finical whiz who took the economy for a ride; A father and a son who reshaped the the destiny of a nation.

Advance praise for ‘India : we have a problem’ :

“In India people are happy as long as they are entertained claims the American educated and settled author of IWHaP. This book is a mirror of our times”   

“ Probably the next big thing after Mahabharat and Ramayan”

“ fast paced, sarcastic and witty : two thumbs up”

“ an obsession called INDIA ”

“it’s so well written,I can’t believe the author is a first timer with no writing experience”

“India : We have a problem, is the new constitution for our law makers”

available: from creativeshocker in the next 5 –10 years from today. 

arbit chronicles

alternative title : The return of the ‘angst in my pangst’ series of rants

We live in a cynical world.

A cynical world.

And we work in a business of tough competitors

 - Jerry Maguire.

---
arbit : A slang in India usually used by engineering graduates. Originated from arbitrary and is typically used to denote something strange, random or weird. (wiktionary.org)
----
Guy 1: “ Sid, you’re very intense and hyper active. slow down or else it’ll kill you someday.” 

Dude1: “ abee o tere ko friday night aate ich kya ho jaat re. Zara yeh hyper active energy control mein rakho warna burn out ho jayenga.”

needless to say. Here I am hale, hearty and as kickass as ever.  

---

pal : “ I am tired an bored of this life. Dunno where life is heading. It’s a bottomless pit of in search of elusive money” 
sid: “ gives refreshing take on life (lead a compartmentalized life, be a saint and a warrior, work to feed the stomach, do creative stuff to feed the soul.. yad yada. Pray.eat.love.”
Pal: “ are you God – awesome ? The long promised messiah of hapless souls ? You give hope to people”
Sid: “ I keep none for myself”
---

In a budget meeting watching finance matadors trying to fight the monetary bullshit. I snuggle up in a corner munching free cookies and sipping espresso coffee watching the drama unfold. My job’s to take down minutes, itemize and send out a mail (and beeping out the numerous f-words being hurled at record pace) Department 1 is unhappy with dept 2. dept 2 hates dept 3. dept 4 hates 1,2, and 3. If only all the four warring dept could be put in a wwe style hell in a cell match. The last man standing gets all the money. What struck me as odd was all the problems arose from people not talking straight to one one another. I used to think kids do stuff like this (not talking to each other over silly squabbles) but well grown adults with huge degrees next to their name. What ever happened to common sense ? Instead I saw adults quarrelling like teenagers over who was right and who was wrong. No one comes to agree that ‘ok fine we fucked up big time. How do we un-fuck now?’  My radar goes beep..beep..’Dysfunctional.’ 

---
“why are you always making me laugh ? Why are you always making people around you laugh ? Is this the real you  or an elaborate cover for some sinister social parasite?”
sid: “ Did you laugh ? Yes ? Did you forget what you were worried about ? yes ? you have your answer.”
“But this is so unfair. You make me/us laugh but we are never able to tickle your funny bone ? why ?”
Sid:“I Lol-ed. Happy ?”
---

There was a time in the past when I was a nightmare for a particular guy. He used to fear me for my people fun making abilities. No I am not proud, but that was how I was. He literally shriveled, cried  and became a social outcast. And I was never aware that I caused him all this anguish. I am happy he dint kill himself over my taunts. I am pretty sure he hung a voodoo doll of me in his trunk box. But karma is a strange force. It evens out all your deeds. cause and effect. The next year when I became the butt of jokes for the entire school and continued to be for the next four years I realized my mistake. I don’t make fun of people any more. A part of me had died.

I have since realized one thing, those who make fun and taunt weaklings need psychiatric care. Words can have a much more crushing effect than physical acts of violence. such is the power a few vociferous utterances. Now I understand why mantras are so powerful.

Drona was un defeated in the kurushetra war but the moment he heard Ashwatthama had died he gave up arms and was killed by Dhrishtadyumna

---

I am so neck deep into deepak chopra’s books (ha ha I have read only two till now though) he gets me like no author has before..ok ok I had a book-gasm that one time when I first read The alchemist.  His writings,ideas, interpretations appeal to me. Why ? and so do Martin Scorsese’s movies.

---

me : “ yay ! it’s snowing” me: “yay! it’s raining” me:” yay ! it’s raining”  

pal: “ dude! you’re like this happy weather person. cheerful and cherubic when I am cussing my guts out cuz the weather spoiled my plans. You and your types disgust me.”

me: “ yay! it’s spring”

---

pal: “arre neeku confident ga telusa leda confidence to ala matladestahav ?”

sid: “ wikipedia chadvalteda enti”

---

“ this attention deficiency hyper disorder thingy you claim to have is so cool eh. so many famous people have it.”

it’s a curse for me. check out my linkedin profile for all the jobs i’ve switched. And my acads were such a mess that at a point of time my parents considered sending me back to our village so that I could farm our fields (and NO it’s not mouse click happy like farmville). ADHD deserves a complete post in itself. 

---

“Apple vs Google vs Facebbok vs Twitter vs Microsoft, will be an interesting battle to watch because…”

“please for the sake of god stop.”

“ do you love me ?”

“why do you ask err.. dear"?”

“you keep ignoring me so much these days.”

“But I do call,text,twet,scrap you na?”

“ I dunno. I am leaving you. Go and update your facebook status with shit is now in relationship with his dumb pc”

---

“ you are so charming,beautiful, intelligent and witty. You complete me. you’re the ying to my yang.”

“ I have moved on. So should you. Bye, my husband and kid are here.”

---

aah beer, the magic elixir that can turn this poor shy Indian boy into the life of the party.

ohh yeah. - Rajesh Ramayan Koothrappali; The Big Bang Theory.

On fear

I must say a word about fear. It’s life’s only true opponent. only fear can defeat life. it is a clever, treacherous adversary,how well i know. it has no decency, respects no law or convention, shows no mercy. it goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unerring ease. it begins in your mind, always. one moment you are feeling calm, self-possessed,happy. then fear, disguised in the grab of mild-mannered doubt,slips into your mind like a spy. doubt meets disbelief and disbelief tries to push it out. but disbelief is a poorly armed foot soldier. doubt does away with it with little trouble. you become anxious. reason comes to do battle for you. you are reassured. reason is fully equipped with the latest weapons technology. but, to your amazement, despite superior tactics and a number of undeniable victories, reason is laid low. you feel yourself weakening, wavering. your anxiety becomes dread.

fear next turns fully to your body, which is already aware that something terribly wrong is going on. already your lungs have flown away like a bird and your guts have slithered away like a snake. now your tongue drops dead like an opossum, while your jaw begins to gallop on the spot. your ears go deaf. your muscles begin to shiver as if they had malaria and your knees shake as though they were dancing. your heart strains too hard, while your sphincter relaxes too much. and so with the rest of your body. every part of you, in the manner most suited  to it, falls apart. only your eyes work well. they always pay proper attention to fear.

quickly you make a rash decision. you dismiss your last allies : hope and trust. there, you’ve defeated yourself. fear, which is but an impression, has triumphed over you. 

the matter is difficult to put in words. for fear, real fear, such as shakes you to your foundation, such as you feel when you are brought face to face with your mortal end,nestles in your memory like a gangrene: it seeks to rot everything,even the words with which to speak of it. so you must fight hard to express it. you must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it. because if you don’t, if your fear becomes a wordless darkness that you avoid, perhaps even manage to forget,you open yourself to further attacks of fear because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.   

                                                                 - excerpt from  Life of Pi by Yann Martel

One life, One chance

The loaded barrel of the gun was the only thing in his field of view. Disillusioned with his life and the quixotic quest to find God he gave up all hope as he knelt waiting for the bullet that had his name on it.

Morality of human race fell with the invention of GSX113. Man had outfoxed the forces of nature, nullifying the results of his actions. For the first time since the big bang man was now the generator, operator and the destroyer. He set out to script a new future for the planet under the aegis of a bunch of scientists. In a single stroke GSX113 had wiped out war, famine, diseases and all evil. The meek could now co-habit the world with the strong. The news was abuzz with science’s victory over religion : “God has been manufactured in the lab. He goes by the name GSX113.”

The thug was brandishing the gun at his face. Beads of sweat tickled down his face.  He tried to look up but was shouted down.        

Slowly as the miracles of GSX113 spread to all corners of the planet people started abandoning their God’s. Religious groups saw an exodus. Society became united in its opposition to theology. The last few who defended their faiths were rounded up by mobs of science fanatics and stoned. They lay bleeding on mount doom  waiting for death to tide over  looking up at the bright heavens for an explanation. The promised messiah had never come. God had failed.

“When you’re staring down the barrel of a loaded gun there is God. He’s the guy holding the gun.”  He laughed out aloud to himself as the sound of eventuality rang out. He couldn’t feel pain as the piece of metal blew his brains out. He was dead.    

Of overtime

So it’s 6 pm (my mind stops working after 4.30 pm even after drowning a huge mug of black tea) and I am still working at my terminal as the mindless data keeps inundating my screen with each refresh. Minimize the window and take a peak at greatandhra.com and cricinfo.com. Boss tells me to go home and be online for a conference call latter in the evening. Back home after a sleepy one and half hour train journey doing the usual social networking perambulations waiting for the conference call to come through. Remote logging in and continuing work. And I don’t get paid for overtime ! fml. way too many fml’s in my life these days. fml.

As I sit staring listlessly at the numbers I am transported to the 90’s and start musing about dad’s working hours when we were in Chennai. Dad used to leave at 9 am and be back by 5pm sharp. All the cutting edge research in his lab not holding him back. The moment we used hear the honk honk of his Bajaj Chetak we used to quit playing caroms/wrestling trump cards and jump to books. He would walk in and mom would vent out our list of sins for the evening. A gentle slap here and a harsh ass caning there and we all would sit down,drink tea dipping Britannia biscuits and watch Doordarshan News. Dad rarely did overtime and even if he did, he would take me and bro to his lab so that we too could become young scientists. lol.  Bro like the obedient geeky son would follow him around fingering chemicals and burning hands where as I would sit down and play wolfnstein on the pc. And sometimes mom to would accompany us; all four of us crammed on the Bajaj Chetak navigating the ghat roads of CLRI was a sight to see. haha.

The voice on the other end of the line stirs me out of my reverie “ Sid are the numbers ready ? We have a meeting tomo at 8 AM.” fml.         

of LML to FML

So I was handed out the creative aspect of the project. Design, graphics, fliers and all that jazz. And the gora boss was in charge of the actual heavy lifting stuff (making up spread sheets/powerpoints justifying  the budget and all) with our work neatly divided I just laid back and started playing around with photoshop/illustrator. Finally doing something creative aka  Love My Life.

1 hour after the meeting the gora calls me up and asks me for a status update. I  am like “ Fuck you man this creative design shit is not easy like your spreadsheet stuff. It needs me to think out of the box, make drafts, print, correct,finalize etc etc) A heavy drain on my amazing thinking abilities it is.”

gora: “Why do you have to be a snotty bitch about using photoshop and all ? Can’t you use powerpoint to make those designs ? The last guy used to do so and they turned out pretty decent. Stop wasting time.”

Cs: “ Power point you say…hmmm I have a few copies from the earlier marketing blitz: the picture alignments are off, the margins are over stepping, our people look fat because of improper picture orientation…i can go on”

gora: “ I want the thingy by 5pm today.”

Cs: “ FML and FYL.”

gora: “ You said wat wat ?”

Cs: “ Did you finish making up imaginary figures in your spreadsheets?”

gora: click. call disconnected.

-----

Flashback 2008

I was the self appointed Digital Media and Promotions head (A fancy title i made up for myself :P)  for the Graduate Indian Students Association at NYU - Poly.

It was my responsibility to do : logo design, web and print promotions for the upcoming cultural fest, posters, flyers,invites and all that brand promotion stuff. Every meeting used to start and end with people discussing only my progress I often used to be appalled as to why no one else was talking about their respective departments/responsibilities; but I never made a show and tell as i was too busy basking in my five minutes of fame.

Is this the case with designers (in any capacity) everywhere ? No matter how trivial your contributions to the bigger picture everyone’s hell bent on gang banging you.  Unless you work for a company like IKEA or IDEO.         

Dream Theatre

I walk, I look around, scratch my head and start walking again. The path feels familiar but also at the same time seems to be un-trodden. Where did I start ? How long have I been walking ? How much distance did I cover ? No effing clue. Wish there were some post-it’s with directions on these gray stucco walls. I let out a big sigh and keep walking half expecting the long unlit corridor to end anytime soon. I run my hands along the celled wall chancing upon what seem to be like heavily padlocked doors. Doors bolted so tight I wonder what dark beings hold.  I am not scared of the creatures of the dark; I 'm not confident of finding light at the end of the tunnel either. Sound of running water in the distance but seems to fade as I walk towards it. An eerie white glow here and a purple spectrum there vanishing as I run my hands through them. The smell of rain moist earth impedes out of the black and disappears as suddenly as it came. Noises, voices, whispers and screams but with no definite source I can point to. I'm tired navigating this never ending maze, so lie down on my back gazing at the pitch black roof  as necrolepsy tides over.The mind sure is a strange place to die at.

How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone ?

                                   – Bob Dylan

The return of ‘Don’t Write’

So my bête noire strikes back, once again. After her previous scathing review of my writing skills today she tells me, “ You suck. Your writings suck. Same stale writing style. Rehash of the same crappy ideas since you first started in 2006. Over use of un-godly words and implausible situations. over the top exaggeration. My bf writes way better than you. Suck on this opinion before you dare to write some shit again. Innovate or die bitch.”

What can I say. She’s know me for one of the longest times since I started blogging. 

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.  – Albert Einstein (fellow ADD-er)

Of PC Trash talk

So the newly joined coworker  out of sheer enthusiasm for her project started bugging me regularly for one thing or the other.
But man does it take the load off you back with some one qualified on your rooster.
NJC:  " I need access to MS Access"
Me:   " No, Can do. Ask the IT installation dept."  {haha access to access}
NJC: " I need ms office to work in my office. can't be running around using a new system every time."
Me: " (with the calmness of Buddha) No, Can do. Ask the budget people for anew PC" {haha office for office}
NJC: " How did you fix that sql query? Are you God - Awesome ?"
Me:  " God - Awesome. yes. " {twiddling the pen drive with pre fabricated queries }
NJC: “ Boss told me I could use that un-used server for my passion project of quantifying unknown parameters that’ll fit into an unknown equation as the addendum to an unknown project”
Me: “ That’s a PC which thinks it’s a server. Hence it’s useless for your passion project.” (That’s what the IT guy told me !)
NJC: “ You just know how to make my day” (in a seething sarcastic I-wish-I-could-drive-a-dragger-down-your-throat tone)
Me: “ It’s all for the greater good.”

Of Urban Legends

So me and that other guy from the other room who is not my friend were walking around battery park near the statue of liberty ferry. Out of the blue he says,  “ dude ! You know I’ve haven’t been to the statue of liberty even once, though I’ve been in NYC for three years. Fml.” 

Sid: “ yea fyl man. I’ve been there twice. In fact I was on the liberty island yesterday only.” 

The other guy from the other room who is not my friend: “ oh really ! So you’re ready to leave New York ?” 

Sid: “ wtf ! what makes you say that ?”

TOGFTORWINMF:  “ No dude, they say if you are a desi f-1 student in NYC and have been to the statue of liberty you’re ready to leave New York for good. This legend seems to be true. I’ve seen so many junta do it.” 

Sid: “ Bleedy fackker it was I who started that legend cuz whenever anyone from out of NYC asked me if I had been to the statue of liberty I would say that visiting the island was the last item on my agenda because when one visits the statue of liberty island there’s nothing else left in NYC to see. Also I was broke during the first three sem’s at college and to waste hard earned dollars on something that can be achieved in Photoshop; was not worth it.”

TOGFTORWINMF: “ kya feek ra rey”    

Of Small talk

So here I was all groggy red eyed and nattily dressed for the usual monday morning back-to-work drill.  I feel like I work on some kind of alien colony and keep traveling between earth  and office on a space ship, on mondays.  After scaling the 6 plus flights of stairs and beaming to myself on burning 8 calories/minute  I arrived on my floor with a thud.   Coast was clear. No one populated the corridors as I tip toed to my cabin. As I opened the door ‘bam’ the female co-worker was right in my face. Mustering up some courage I meeked out a ‘Hiya’. Big mistake. She is genuinely  surprised at me taking the initiative to say hi (note : In real life I suck at small talk. I like getting to the issue directly with out much beating around the bush)  So she blurts out           ” How was your weekkk end ? ” {in an over the top overtly excited and dramatic voice with a cherubic grin and eyes wide in shock..creepy}  (like she half expected me to go skiing on the alps or something like that) ” I just slept it off.”  Co-w: ” oh ! yeah. (i sense deep disappointment : my karma ran over your dogma. nailed it !) right. right.  sometimes sleep can do wonders for you and it’s good you caught some  cuz you always appear to be sleep deprived  and keep dozing off in the middle of meeting. ok cya. gtg.”   ” WTF ! bitch ! “

p.s. : what we gults generally do on weekends:  ‘ IPL following,tv9, idlebrain, great andhra, ragalahari, chicken-mutton making, gully cricket playing, mandu party doing, laundry ,grocery shopping, temple hopping,online movies/tv, spoofs/songs/balayya & bramhi clips on youtube, politics/cinema dissecting, complete time passing.

My elusive rain of redemption

Since I was a young kid rain has always held a fascination for me. Rain was pure, mystical and a unbridled display of nature’s bounties. I never felt any anger towards rain every time after a self indulgent bedraggling session would leave me sick and fighting off high temperatures.  As I sit by my window now and watch the mild showers tickle down it conjures up memories of me and bro floating paper boats, catching tadpoles, splish-splashing till we were tired. Rain is when I feel  connected with God. The roots of this feeling stem from a small blast from the past :  When I was in my fifth standard is Carmel High School- Port Blair  on the first day of school we had a welcome back morning assembly. Towards the end of the session it began raining heavily as we all began running back to class the principal Sister Realina announced over the mike ‘God has blessed this new academic year’ I stopped dead in my tracks and let the drops wash over my face and tried catching a few on my tongue. Many years have passed since that first incident but those words have always come back to me every time it rains. ‘God’s blessing you : my heart used to say’. As I moved along life from one disastrous academic setting to another rain was my only constant company.

The ever present heaviness I feel in my soul  due to the constantly upsetting question of ‘ what do you want to do with your life ?’ is posed to me: I walk in the rain trying to seek answers; kinda like a spirit walk. Because I always feel, someday a special rain will come which will engulf me and tell me that my life’s purpose has not been futile and that though I may feel as a complete disappointment to myself  I did good in the bigger picture of things; a picture that’s been hidden away so that it doesn’t turn me insane with it’s intricate beauty. I walk, I get wet, I look up and wait for my elusive rain of redemption. 

                Raindrops keep falling on my head
                That doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red 
                Crying’s not for me
                I’m never gonna stop the Rain by complaining
                So I just did me some talking to the sun.

                - Ben Folds Five, Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

I need answers, like right now

note: insanely long rant

Save me, I'm lost
Oh lord, I've been waiting for you
I'll pay any cost
Save me from being confused
Show me what I'm looking for - Carolina Liar - Show Me What I'm Looking For

He woke up to the ring-ring of the phone. The call was from India. A relative had passed away after a prolonged battle with an illness. His mom was telling him to call the young widow and console her for her loss. The call ended as he walked up to the balcony of his 31st floor apartment. The cold tiled floor felt like a knife beneath his naked feet. The news of the sudden death had shattered his nice vodka induced   slumber. The view from the balcony was breath taking; it had to be, after all it was an apartment bang in the middle of times square, the so called cross roads of the world. He glanced at the million lights and awe inspiring billboards. A milling populace of tourists were navigating their way through the Madison avenue executives (like himself) vision of material heaven. At 29 he had it all. The money, the swagger, a horde of  one night stands with skank’s; a life many could just dream of. Tonight's call had shook something primitive in him. Unable to place a fine finger on what it was he headed back to the bar in the living room. He poured himself a tall glass of scotch and snorted a line of the finest Colombian coke. As the ecstasy hit he turned up the music and downed the glass in one go. He tripped towards the tv and fiddled the remote. TV9 was on. A sex scandalized Godman was the topic of breaking news. He couldn't differentiate which more scandalizing the Godman caught copulating or the dangerously low blouse of the anchor. As further details poured in he watched appalled as the sex guru who picture was being flashed was his own Guru !  Chamatkaar in morning; balatkaar in the evening was the running scroll beneath. He grabbed the always on standby packed travel case and headed out to JFK.

After 26 hours of journey half way around the world he arrived at the ashram. The media junket snapped up pictures as he made his way in. Since he was an old devotee and a  high profile one a private darshan was immediately granted. The Guru looked lost in deep mediation as he entered his private chambers. The usurer signaled him to take a seat and do some pranayama. He gave him the middle finger. The Guru gradually opened his eyes  muttering undecipherable sanskrit sounding chants. He was too restless for the Guru to start talking and blurted out : “WTF man ! You’re a Godman for Shankara’s sake. Revered and worshipped for your mastery of the mysterious forces of bramhan. How could you defile your holiness by indulging in such primitive lowly carnal acts. Jesus, I feel so insulted to be counted as your ardent devotee.”

Guru: “ Son. It’s easy to find God today, but hard to find hidden cameras”

“ Stop with the gags will you. Don’t fuck with my head.”

Guru: “Why are you so angry son ? Blurt it out so that the force can be restored to it’s balance in you.”    

“ I feel cheated. When I took you for my Guru I truly believed you were above the vagaries that plague us humans. Turns out you are just a pretentious douche who kept getting head in the dark.”

Guru: “ My character and actions though the current source of TRP ratings for all those media jackals out there, you’re not here for that because what ever you said earlier could’ve been very well conveyed to me directly by the 1800-CallaGuru line. Why take the effort to travel half way around the world, So what truly is your problem dude ?”

“ Though your promiscuous actions have betrayed my faith now, you’ve always been a guiding beacon in my dark times of self doubt. I am facing one such crisis now and since finding a new Guru’s gonna take some fair amount of google searching and background verification I decided to come to you for one last time for you’ve known me the longest.”

Guru: “ The vestiges of your faith in me flatter me, please continue btw howz your libido? I just hope now it’s not one of those dysfunction issues you had earlier. The regular practice of khandasana  i demonstrated in my youtube yoga video should strengthen it.  Ha ha, just messing with you kid. Pray please continue.”

“ My close relative passed away yesterday. My mom told me to console his wife and kids. I tried but I can’t seem to get myself to do it. Even though my heart goes out to them and I genuinely feel their pain and anguish but when I pick up the phone to call them the words don’t pour out. Last year when my sister passed away due to cancer I had no words to offer her shattered husband. Back in college when one of my friend’s father passed away and she poured out her grief to me all I could do was try and hug her. Why am I unable to express grief ? Why am I unable to cry ? Am I a stone hearted Shylock? I keep turning all this grief inwards unable to blurt it out. I always have the right words for my manipulative marketing campaigns but not for genuine sorrow and grief. why Guruji?why ?”  

Guru: “ You’re a great Ad-Man in professional life but a bad actor in real life. Clever merchant of venice reference btw. Just because you don’t mouth your sorrow doesn’t mean you are a bad person. You just need to practice in front of the mirror daily. Unspoken words are more powerful than relentless verbose spewage. You feel sorry but cant’ say you’re sorry. WTF is the big deal man. If it was in your power you would try to bring peace to the whole world thus following Mahatma gandhi’s principles and eliminating Guru’s like us. What’s your next question. Hey this Q & A format is good re.”         

“ The other day someone asked me a question I’ve already dreaded ‘What do you want to do with your life ?’ It literally pulled the persian rug under my gucci shoes . As demonstrated by the copious black money I’ve pumped into your charitable tax exempt trust over the years wealth is not a problem. Childhood experiences of penury had left me scarred for life. Accumulation of wealth was the sole motto of my life. Even after making my first million many a times I used to wake up in the nights wetting my pants on dreamed up horrors of financial crisis. So I went ahead and made a billion.”

Guru: “ I have to quote warren buffet on this : ‘ I always knew I was going to be rich. I don't think I ever doubted it for a minute.’ Nice quote rite! Gimme a minute to tweet that out to my dweeple. Yea so the moment I first met you I knew you had a fire to earn, earn and earn. But I din’t figure out that  it would become the sole obsession of your life. Wealth may complete you but it corrupts you in the process. Give it all away and read Robin S. Sharma’s : The monk who sold his ferrari. A New York Times best seller. Once you read it you’ll know what to do with your life.”

“ Will i ever fall in love again? ”

Guru: “ ‘Pyaar sirf ek baar hi hota hai. Shaadi baar baar.’ His name is Khan and he is awesome.”      

“Why does one’s childhood have such a grip on the way one’s future gets shaped ?”

Guru: “It's a ninja thing, you wouldn't understand.”

“Fear is such a strong emotion and ego is such a strong force, why?”

Guru: “ Like Deepak Chopra says in why is God laughing ‘ You are born with fear and die with fear. Fear is as ancient as the human race itself.’ Fear of indecent exposure made man design clothes and fear of aids made him invent the contraceptive sheath. Go with the flow. But if you wish to conquer fear walk up to your boss and yell at him. Ego is a different ball game altogether. Positive forces strengthen your ego eg. orgasm. negative energies stifle your ego. eg. constipation.”

“I believe in the concept of swarg,narak, soul, dharma, karma. Why can’t I see God?”

Guru: “ e-bay has fantastic god vision goggles for sale by some dude from Nigeria; sounds like a scam to me though. Why do you wish to see God anyways ?”

“ So that I can ask him why my life is rife with strife”

Guru: “ You don’t need God for that. Hire a dietician and drop 20 pounds.” 

“ Remind me why I worshipped  you as my Guru in the first place ? “

Guru: “ Sishya you came to me at a troubling stage in life. I gave you the answers you sought in hope that latter as you outgrew your issues you would find the answers for new challenges on your own and in the process deepen your understanding of the ever pervading life giving bramhan. God doesn’t have any favorites and he definitely doesn't play dice. All your misery is because of your karma. God hasn’t distanced himself from you; you’ve moved away from him but he never stopped loving you or caring for you. He doesn’t seek your oblations or respects as he is a force much higher than our plain human consciousness can comprehend. nature is God in his purest form. Unrestrained and unpredictable. This force is so strong that it’s capable of destroying the very life it created. Just because someone you knew or liked died doesn't give you a right to complain about favorites; life and death are all matters of the mysterious thing called destiny. Destiny is like anti-matter that Einstein predicted. Humans were cast in the image of God, pure and unblemished but we were dictated by our dicks and had to go and fight it out over trivial matters like chicks thus effectively distancing ourselves from God. God just  intended for all his creation to reach the penultimate goal of a fulfilled, dream clinching, satisfying existence. But wicked man in order to achieve it harmed other men. His pinnacle of success was built on the foundation of many trampled and dead bodies hence causing a disruption in the force and unbalancing the ying and yang. To see GOD: be pure, do pure deeds. Lead a blessed life. In fact I myself haven’t seen him till now. I just keep bullshitting all  these mindless hordes that throng my ashram.”

Of Love & Arranged Marriages

other end of the line. Part 1

she: hey! did u see that movie ?
he : yea, but i liked the other movie better.

she:I too liked the other movie. this one was good in bits and parts.
he:this movie was good in bits and parts fails as a whole.

she:omg! i too was about to say the same thing. LOL.
he:it's amazing how we seem to think alike.

she:yea!totally. We should get married.
he:hey cell fone reception in this area is poor. i'm loosing you. click.

Other end of the line : part 2

She : You like books?
He : I love books

She: you like movies ?
He: IMDB ikkada.

She:You love music ?
He: I 'm a bathroom singer

She: You like sai baba ?
He: I like sai baba.

She:You like kids ?
He: as long as they are not mine.

She:we should get married.
He: Hey! signal is bad here. I can't hear you. ttyl.

Book…sigh !!!

MBE : supposedly the title of the book I was to scribble down during my ‘mediocre but arrogant’  engineering days. Now I just look at the cover trying to connect the dots of a story that could have been.

P.S. Cover concept and design by Shiva Aditya Karukonda

another P.S. : My engineering days were bland and spice-less(Save for that one semester in 2006) The book was to include my imagined/askewniverse muses and rants of the college experience. 

A p.s. to the a.p.s : Roger Murtaugh: I'm too old for this shit!

Tirchi Nazar

Bff: dude ! wtf is wrong with you ?

Sid : huh !

Bff: I got info that you met my female friend the other day.

Sid: huh !

Bff: She says you had a wandering eye and were hesitant to look at her when she was talking to you. You made a really bad impression on her and she won’t talk to you the next time.

sid:huh!

sid: beeteew I ran into your female friend today. We spoke as we walked so I din’t have to look at her as she spoke. huh !

Bff: wats with these effing huh’s ?

sid: I am in the restroom.

Bff: Fyl. Ttyl.

What the book ?

So dad and me were in serious career discussion mode.

Dad : “ you don’t seem to be reading any books of late.”

Me: “ Dad I am currently involved with http://the50booksproject.wordpress.com/ ”

Dad: “ B.S. son. You’ll just read fifty romantic paperback novels and make tall claims.”

Me: “ of all the books in the world why romantic ? No, no. I am over those pre pubescent literary choices. I swear. I am more into business/technology/philosophy/biographies/ err graphic novels and comics”

Dad: “ does that list include any Stephen R Covey type books ? you know that guy is awesome. Those kinds of books are awesome. I see so many people clutching them in airports and other places”

Mom : (phone’s on speaker) Are you regularly reading vishnu sahasranama ? read, bitch. will do you good.

Me: " those books are a sham dad. In fact I bet you I can write a self help book myself by just rehashing three such books into one. oh ! hi mom.”

Dad: “arre saleem pheeku tu hameesha phekte rehta hai ya kuch karta bhi” (insert Telugu translation here)

Dad: “ what do you want to do with your life ? Where is your life going ? where do you see yourself five years from now ? Have you added any new skills to your resume? What’s your weight ? (insert many more uncomfortable questions) ”

Me: “ I want to be a writer. I want to work in a creative field. I wanna marry a film … abrupt interruption

Dad/mom: “ wtf ! are you high/drunk or something ?”

Me: “ No, that’s what I really want.”

Dad: “ Ok we gotta go out now. Venkat uncle’s successful son has come from abroad (read software consultant in USA) they are going to see some girl for him today and called us over to tag along. you get some sleep but then don’t sleep like a pig for 10 hours.”

Me: “ ok. Jai Sriman Narayana” 

I'm going out in a blaze of glory

He lay on bed twisting and turning unable to sleep. A chance encounter with someone from his past in the mall earlier during the day was playing out behind shut eyes. How they both on seeing each other tried to avert their gazes but eventually as their paths crossed had to engage in some small talk. Five years but the wound still caused pain. Giving up further attempts to sleep he switched on the pc and logged on to his online file repository. Clicking through galleries of images he finally landed on the one that was titled US of A : A new life, a new beginning.  He scrolled patiently through the tons of pictures remembering minute details about every single one. He smiled remembering those ‘fresh off the boat’ days. He had been through it all : friendships, brotherhood, fear,  joy, success, poverty, failures, love,separation, anguish,torment, contentment, perfidy and many more dormant spirits those pictures evoked.

He pushed back the computer and as he lit up a menthol filter. He mused to himself ‘the clouds are too damn far away, i’ll make my own smoke clouds’ He walked to the front porch opened the door. It was foggy outside. He continued blowing smoke rings as a tall figure in a long trench coat and a hat approached his front porch. He looked at his watch. It was 11 PM and he wasn’t expecting any guests. The tall figure stood 20 feet away from him. The light from the front porch was not strong enough to illuminate his face.

The figure spoke : “ Ryan. I have come for you”  

Ryan was startled and took a few steps back but regained his composure and shot back: “ Who are you? and what do you want ?”

The figure : “ I am the messenger of death Ryan. I am here to take you.”

Ryan: “ Holy shit ! you kidding me dawg. I ain’t falling for this. Come on who set you up? was it Jake Sully ? Man! you almost had me “ 

TF: “ No Ryan. I am here for you. It’s time for you to die.”

Ryan: “Ok ! Ok ! enough with the gags. Come out hidden camera crew where ever you are. I din’t fall for this.”

TF: ” listen you fat fuck. You time on this earth is up. I am here to harvest your soul.”

Ryan: (wiping off beads of sweat) “ Ok. My time’s up you say. So how do you plan to harvest my soul when I am kicking alive.”

TF: “ Do you know what’s that splinter in you head that got you so restless and made you get up right now?”

Ryan: “yes. I saw an old flame today. it opened up a root canal of emotions so I had to trace back how my life fell apart ”

TF: “ you are restless because of fear. Fear that the past may repeat itself with your now seemingly perfect life. Your day begins in fear and ends in fear, of losing it all, again. This fear is the very thing that’s going to kill you ”

Ryan: ” But I have insurance for fear.”

TF:” Silly Ryan.”

Ryan: “ Yes I am scared shitless every living moment that all i have built and accomplished over these past few years may fall apart anytime up until now. What I realized ten minutes ago was that even though the edifice of my fortunes or relationships may collapse I can rebuild it all again. I’ve been there done that machi.”

TF: “ what about people Ryan ? Do you think once you’ve let them go out of your life they will come back to you ? “

Ryan: “ Each one of us is born free. We are bound to no one except to the one true God. People keep moving in and out of each others lives. It’s all part of the divine serendipity. I have experienced that If I whole heartedly wanted some one’s company, I could attract them into my life.”

TF:” So you have no regrets in life ?”

Ryan: “ Regrets yes. I regret that when I could have done so much better in my work or relationships, I slacked. I kept making up fake pretences to justify  my lacksidal  attitude towards life. I just wish I had a chance to go back and undo it. But that’s the thing with life, it must be lived forward, but can be understood only backwards.”

TF: “ Dude ! Don’t get all Buddha on me. I am here to take your soul. Save your preaching for the purgatory.”

Ryan: “ Yea, I am ready. Take me away to your special place.”

TF: “Are you ? Cause unlike in yamagola movie this process can’t be ctrl + z ”

Ryan: “ I’ve lived a full and complete life. I always imagined going down in a blaze of glory not in the dead of night like this. But what the heck as long as it is in NYC.”

“I know you are here to kill me. Shoot, coward, you are only going to kill a man.” – Ernesto 'Che' Guevara

To (not to) Quit

In serious work induced April1st rant mode :

banging away keys monotonously as sql server churns up another huge array of numbers I have an epiphany. Fackkk. What am doing here? I was all about being creative and shit. These days my only creative aspect seems to be coming up with new excuses to delay project deadlines. It’s like I’ve made a deal with the devil. Deliver a job after MS in US and I’ll do your bidding. err… take care of that h1b and gc as well.

Me watching episode after episode of Mad Men and wondering how awesome it would be, to be Don Draper in real life. Facck those girls, cars, cigarettes and booze. Being involved in a creative field itself is a high. I always dreamed I would be fighting pitched board room battles defending my creative ideas and emerging victorious to the cries of ‘maximus, maximus’. The heads of conquered kings (board members) lining my walk…sigh ! Many say it’s never too late to start over. You just have to have the balls to take charge of life. (balls to take charge of life..lol..how true)

Life in US is a bottomless pit, at least for me. It’s all about endless visa statuses F1- OPT – H1b – EAD – GC – PR. The journey from one visa category to another always leaves you in transit. Meanwhile parents are trying to hook you up with someone who they feel will be your ideal soul mate in this transition stages. And did I mention taxes/ health care/immigration paper work/ yada yada ?

While I was doing MS at NYU – Poly all my friends were either Research/ Teaching Assistants. I was a lowly librarian. I was often accused of taking the easy way out by not working my ass off for 45 plus hours every week poring over already published papers/ doing textbook illustrated experiments/ grading papers using a master document. I was the slacker. I found joy in reading, watching cartoons/sitcoms, refilling paper when the printer ran out of it, switching off lights at night, taking tea and pee breaks. And not to make sure dad din’t get all hyper ventilating by his prodigal son working as a lowly librarian I made up baloney tales of mythical proportions regarding the groundbreaking digital cataloging I was involved in and how I used Digital Image Processing to look up ebook versions of playboy. It always ended with dad saying I can see through your bs but whatever rocks your boat. rolling eyes expression here.

Beep Beep.. citrix application has been idle for too long and will shutdown in two minutes Click on OK to continue.

cya.