Monsoon dreaming

The rains in Durham over the past few days have made me crave for the Monsoons, which is strange because I hate rains. I hate what it comes with, atleast in my associations - Traffic Snarls, Power cuts, Gloom..you get the drift. I've never been able to see the rains like most people I know do - liberating, enchanting and hunger inducing.

But weirdly enough, when it started raining incessantly in Durham, in the last few days - it had me craving for that monsoon feeling. I can't define it but its the anticipation of the Monsoons, the effect it has, after a scorching summer. I always looked forward to the first day of the Monsoons. That day in the first week of June, when all of a sudden the earth would smell fantastic, the weather would turn balmy and within moments, the torrent and the awesome force of the Monsoon would pour down.

I don't like rain but I can look at it for hours and catch up with my thoughts. Thats why I like the Monsoons of Mangalore. Its the time to "ponder" during the rains as my grandma put it. She would sit in the courtyard, legs stretched and crossed, keep herself occupied with splitting peas and just watch the rains. Occasionally, she would let slip something like "I once saved a drowning man, when the river flooded."

The Monsoons in the coast are fierce. It would rain continuously for days without respite. The sea would become much fiercer and the people more vary but tranquil. I remember my family was always concerned about losing boats and friends during the season. Since our ancestral house was practically on the beach, my family would get pretty grim fearing the worst. But when it rained, there was nothing one could do but ponder.

Considering how busy I am, I miss that luxury of pondering and just thinking about things instead of being swept away by this tide called B-school, which requires you to act rather than ponder. I miss that.

Dinner was nice

You sit there before me,

your eyes a-twinkle,

and the conversation meanders beautifully,

with good food and drinks galore,

But I sit there, thinking,

You and I are never going to be a whole.

Its sad really.

responder a la questions

Questions I ask myself these days, for instance:

1. Why, as a 2nd year, I'm busier than ever?

Really, why? I thought I'd huffed and puffed and paid my dues in first year and that the 2nd year would be about lounging in the Fox centre or sipping wine by the WaDuke golf course. But no such luck. As usual I committed to more than I could handle and am now going through school in a bleary, sleep deprived daze.

2. I'm sorry, did you opt for French?? Everyday??

In a rush of madness, one that comes with hanging out with some crazy friends, I decided that B-school wasn't challenging enough and that I should opt to learn a new language - in this case French. I'm now signed up for an intro French Course that goes on till December, everyday. I mean EVERYDAY. with Homework!!

I'm actually enjoying this course though. I've always wanted to be fluent in French and this course is perfect to get me there. Although its a ton of work, its a pleasant departure from B-school case mode. Also, it helps me see quite a bit of the university, especially the other graduate schools and the undergrad campus. Duke has a whimsical quality that I absolutely adore. The architecture is gothic and makes you feel like you're in a weird fairy tale. The walk to the Romance Language institute in the morning, taking in the sights of the campus and the crisp morning air, sets me up nicely for the rest of the day. Its a good thing

3. I'm sorry, YOU are a mentor??

Thats the thing about being a 2nd year at Duke. You get thrust with a ton of responsibilities and part of it is mentoring FYs and getting them through their recruiting process. So you help them through their career goals, resumes etc. Its a great way to get to know FYs and give back to the community but its a lot of work. Sigh, and with classes and recruiting and club stuff, things get mighty hectic. I'm also tutoring and so besides concentrating on my current classes, I'm also brushing up on an advanced accounting to teach some FYs. I love accounting and thats why I elected to do it but where's the time. really??

4. Where's the party tonight??

Although, 2nd year is hectic, the party doesn't stop. I think our class has gotten a lot closer. Instead of wild, crazy, parties, I find myself in close gatherings, with good food and wine and sometime even fondue, having deep discussions. Although I must add, I do still enjoy the occasional mindless partying. Campout is coming in 2 weeks and I'm sooper excited about it. There is no feeling the world that captures the essence of campout. Different clubs play their own music all night long, so you find yourself dancing all night to Latin, Indian and Euro tracks. Can't wait for it!!

I like my classes, my activities and all the stuff thats happening around me. I'm not getting my full quota of forty winks but I definitely like being back in school!

Sun kissed skin so hot will melt your popsicle...

So here I am, back in good ol' Durham, having finished with the internship. I didn't realize how much I missed D-town's lazy insouciance till I got here. Its a town that lets you be unlike Big cities, where they almost seem to chastise you for being unproductive.

So as usual I'm concerned with moving duties these days. This is like the 9th time I've moved in the last 6 years. the last year alone saw me move around 3 times. I'm a moving expert now. I know how to pack things efficiently and neatly with everything labelled and all. Infact the movers were impressed with my organized ways - they just had to move 9 boxes for me unlike moving zillion dubious plastic bags with other people. But I have to say that despite moving so many times, I still continue to amass material things. I still continue to make every attempt to grow roots and not live out of a suitcase.

This was vehemently proved when I saw all my stuff. My shoes and my clothes and my replica ship collection. Yes, thats my new hobby - assembling 17th century miniature replica ships. There is something about medieval ships that flips me out. I mean that. I'm rooted to the place and will not move until I can have it. I can spend hours putting together the whole things with all its sails and masts and err.. Moving on to to my other passion - My shoes..ahh my shoes... I dote upon them as mothers dote on their babies and given this motherly pride, I'm not content with shoving them in a box and storing them in an attic. I need a separate closet for them and Thats my new dilemma - how do I make space for all my babies. Actually I have a ton of other dilemmas but this is the one that has a delicious possibility of working out. I am a shoe fiend but I'm not a brand conscious shoe-fiend. Thats what makes me a true shoe fiend because I adore my street chappals from commercial street, bangalore just as I do my 6 inch heels.

My other splurge has been a burgundy sunshine chair. I love it! Its perfect for curling in, with a good book in tow and that my friends, is the bestest feeling the world. Since I have time on my hands, I'm really going to get my space upto a cozy level compared to my last apartment which was spartan at best. And as this is 2nd year, maniacal photo blogging will follow - so watch this space.

Apart from moving, I'm also prone to sitting in my favourite greek cafe Saladelia and watching the world go by. They always play jazz and the food is magnificently light and fresh, sometimes oozing with feta cheese or the most amazing freshly made hummus. Since I have time, I read the NYT through and through and spend hours rather than just skim through it. I have developed a fond affection for its opinion column. They make me think and ponder long after I've read them. Bliss! Also, my daily ritual is to go through a plethora of fashion blogs. I'm addicted to Mrs-o.org - a style blog dedicated to Michelle Obama's style.

I know when school starts I'll be consumed with issues of grave consequence like recruiting. I know I'll be swimming in a tenuous world of fierce competition and grappling with issues of self doubt. I know there will be days in the future where dark clouds will loom, so allow me to revel in the sunshine and insouciance. Allow me to be childish and brazen. For a brief while atleast.

American Revelations

Discovering a new country is one the most exciting journeys that one can undertake. The fun part is developing habits one never had but cannot live without now. These are a few of my favorite things

1. Online Shopping: I'm a compulsive shopper by nature so this should not come as any surprise. the day I learned my dress size, I got hooked to online shopping and started receiving clothes by the droves. two things that I love about online shopping is 1. the larger inventory and 2. the return policy. I could order clothes and return them at the store if I didn't like it. My only other online shopping experience prior to this was ordering books on Amazon. The nerd me is understandably worried by the clothes-horse me.

2. Driving: I never drove before coming here so driving on the "wrong side" of the road was not a problem. What was a problem was the fact that everybody here followed traffic rules religiously. People actually navigated by reading road signs. Who does that I asked?? I was politely told not to display such naivete at my driving test. Which was another proud moment for me considering that in India I got a driving license without ummm driving. The officer who sat beside me at my driving test told me that I drove too cautiously and that I should ummm go easy on the brakes. He still gave me my license even though his nose almost touched the windshield when I braked out of sheer nerves

3. Basketball: I've become crazed basketball fan thanks to Duke's NCAA Championship team. So much so that I even followed the 2010 NBA draft . I know the rules, I know some awesome cheers to heckle the opposition and the refree (eg: I'm Blind, I'm deaf, I wanna be a ref)...err you get the drift. I actually prefer basketball over cricket because its much faster and gets over in 90 minutes so the ratio of Emotion Invested Vs Time is much higher in Basket Ball especially when your team loses. You know in 90 minutes and get over it. As an aside I used a ratio to compare Basketball and Cricket. The nerd me is understandably worried by the MBA me.

4. Obscure Coffee Choices: Before coming here nobody told me to get up to speed on my coffee choices. Its extremely important to have your coffee choice down pat. The more complicated the better and cooler. Also, if you don't have an overtly complicated coffee choice like "Double shot, non fat, decaf, no sugar, free trade, organic, grande Latte" you will be looked at strangely by those good folks at Starbucks.

5. Cardio Dancing: I was always a gym nerd but discovering Zumba & cardio dancing took it to another level. These classes are a lot of fun and you end up learning a LOT of dance moves which come in handy for those B-school parties. You also end up doing strange things like doing salsa for a bhangra song. To quote a popular refrain " Yes you can!" My indian self wanted to protest this anomaly. I wanted to tell all the peeps that this was wrong. An insult to two great culture but then the dance instructor yelled "Booty, Booty, Booty" - a cue for all of us to shake it and sigh I just gave up and "bootied" instead. The choices one is faced with!

6. Student Discount: As a student, largely in debt and a shopping addiction, this is something I'd want to be in School forever for. You get student discount in the oddest of places. For car washes, gym memberships, for theater, music recitals..you curiously never get discounts on things that you actually need as students like books for example or coffee or food. I try my luck anyway. I'll shamelessly ask any establishment if they offered student discounts. Thats how I got $2 off for car wash.

I could go on but here's the rest of the list in bullet points:

1. Food network (which is not good considering I watch it eating a bland salad)

2. Tailgating (getting drunk before a game..like a pre-game party)

3. Barbecues

4. Chipotle Sauce (I dive towards it like an Indian in a mexican Restaurant)

5. Hulu (I dread the day they go subcription based)

6. Biscuit, Scramled Eggs & hash browns at waffle house

..aaah waffle house, I think I'd better stop.

1 year in the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave

A significant enough milestone to warrant a post methinks.

I want to sound like those immigrants in a Jhumpa Lahiri book right now and muse about how I came here with nothing but thats not exactly true though. I came here with 3 suitcases - 69 Kgs - thanks to the generosity of Jet Airways which recognized my student disposition and fleeced me accordingly. And contrary to all those immigrants in Ms. Lahiri's books who went on to do well for themselves, (that is, if you consider becoming a tenured professor at University of Oregon or wherever, doing well for yourself) I continue to descend faster into student loan debt than those scary roller coasters at Disney World. Yes, a massive negative. So judging by conventional FOB (Fresh Of the Boat) standards, you might be tempted to categorize my one year as a massive "FAIL" but that too is not exactly true though.

I think I've had a change of heart about America. Let me explain. When I first came here on a work trip, I left begging God not to EVER send me on a foreign trip again. Knowing how all of us clamour for foreign trips and assignments, you must guess that my trip was awful. It was not awful. It was terrible and traumatic and Emotional scar inducing. I got ripped off by a cab driver to the tune of $150 (my fault entirely) and lost my luggage (not my fault). I wept on the sidewalk of NY and watched people pass me by without so much as a cold stare. I never wanted to return to such a cold country I declared. I must admit that I was deeply injured that a NY cabbie duped me. But that incident not withstanding, I found myself opening the door of an empty house in North Carolina this time last year, not half ready to meet the rigours of a demanding MBA program. I was out of a long term relationship and I felt alone and messed up.

I reconstructed my life gradually and it must be said America made it easy for me. I had a bank account, phone, a furnished house and a car in less than ten days. Nowhere in the world would I have been able to grow some roots so quickly and so easily. My 3 suitcases grew to fill up an entire closet and I have, with great alacrity, amassed a shoe collection which at last count was 42 pairs (alarming hint on where my loans are going). Tucked away in my own bubble, America gave me the space and time to introspect about my life. Space that would not be possible in any other place. I eventually came out of my bubble and was embraced by the extrovert population of this country. The people I've met and the experiences I have had have made me more social and extroverted.I like the fact that I can start a random conversation with anybody here something I don't do back home. I once got an education on Japan by a waitress at my favourite cafe. It also made me more independent and self reliant. I would have also added "polite" but I was always polite FYI.

After a year, I feel enriched and different. Thats when you know you've changed. Your outlook on life, people and experiences are no longer black and white. For that alone, thank you America.

Crazie for life

(*an article I previously wrote for the Fuqua Times*)

To say my family is sports mad would be an understatement. Sports was not an indulgence. It was a way of life. We, my brother and I, learnt to swim before we could spell and shot hoops at 7am in the mornings during summer holidays while all other kids got to sleep an extra hour. So, yes, we felt deeply about our sports.

Naturally, our television was dominated by sports. My fondest family memories, in fact, were watching important games with my brother and Dad. I’ve watched every world cup football final with them since 1987. I still remember watching my brother jump with joy when France beat Brazil in 1998. My dad was bitter because Brazil was his team. And I watched dispassionately. That was the problem for me. I never really felt for any team. I supported the teams that my brother and dad supported because it seemed incongruous not to do so. So while my brother moped for days when his team lost, I never quite reached the depths of despair like he did. Oddly enough I envied him. I envied him for the connection that he had with his team. For finding that deep, inexplicable bond that ties an individual to a team, regardless of swings in fortunes. I, of course, did not have such a connection with any team till I discovered Duke basketball.

I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I honestly knew nothing about Duke Basketball till my Student Visa Interview in May of last year. I remember prepping for the interview for all possible questions the consulate could ask me – Why MBA, What plans after? etc. So imagine my surprise when the first question I was asked was “Are you a Basketball fan?” Stumped, I mumbled something about vaguely following the Chicago Bulls. The consulate officer then proceeded to educate me on Duke and its history with Basketball. Even after school began, it wasn’t until campout that I got a sense of how important Basketball was to the heritage of the school. On campout Sunday, after spending over 36 hours sleep deprived, hung over, without having won a ticket and facing an impending Stats quiz, I vowed to watch at least one basketball game at Cameron.

My first game at Cameron happened due to an impulse decision. A friend and I decided to “walk up” to the Long Beach State game on December 29. We stood in line, amidst freezing conditions (hey, I’m Indian, if it isn’t sunny it’s ALWAYS freezing for me) and hoped to make it into Cameron. We were allowed in after waiting for an hour and I still remember the moment I first entered the arena. The atmosphere inside was pulsating to say the least. Within moments I got up to speed with all the cheers and was ready to harass any opposition team as a true Cameron Crazie would. I fell in love with Basketball during that game. The fast pace and frenetic energy made it a keeper in my books. But most of all, it was the team – watching them execute strategic maneuvers was like watching sublime poetry in motion. I was hooked to say the least.

I made it a point from then on to follow every game. I was a Cameron Crazie even when I watched the game on TV. I held my hand up when free throws were attempted and yelled “whoosh” if it went in. If Brian Zoubeck made a save, I would twist my fingers in to a “Z”, even if I was watching the game at the airport (NCAA – Duke Vs Cal). When we lost to Georgetown, I was miffed for days. When I met Duke Haters (of which there are plenty – even as far flung as Leuven, Belgium) I defended our team to the core. That’s when I realized that I had begun to care. That’s when I realized what my brother, a true fan went through – to stick by your team, to stay loyal despite the whims and fancies of fortuna.

During the NCAA final with 13 secs to go, when Butler had the possession and it looked like they would sneak past our score, I remember my heart sinking. I remember telling myself that I would celebrate our team even if we lost and would be an even fiercer fan the coming year. We won that game and I wept tears of joy. It was surreal to say the least. I called up the older sibling, who had no idea about what the NCAA meant, but understood the sentiment perfectly. That’s when I realized I had finally found MY team, my connection. To paraphrase Lord Tennyson a bit here, teams may come and teams may go, but I’m a Crazie Forever!!

'nuf said

March Madness

A quick run down on March, my favourite month this year.

First, went to Belgium and Netherlands for spring break to visit my best friend. Loved every minute of it and was practically crying on landing back at JFK. I will write a detailed post on my trip sometime later but I'm still in the throes of severe Europe Sickness. I miss Brussels and Amsterdam. The people, the food, the coffee, the music and ofcourse the fashion! I raided H&M in brussels and now when I visit stores here, a lil part of me dies. I miss saying "Bonjour" and "Sil Vouz Plait." I miss wandering around ancient medieval cities with medieval city squares, munching on croissants and coffee. And most of all, I miss Amrits - talking to her and sounding ideas off her. her sarcastic humour and wit. Hopefully, I'll get to see her real soon :)

Second, although I miss Europe, I love the classes I've taken this term. I'm excited about learning rather than worry about things like internships and jobs. This past week we also had the Blue Devil weekend for the Admits of 2012 class, which was also super fun. Because of my relatively light course load, I'm also making time for the gym and indulging in fun stuff like salsa and cardio dancing ;) The weather in Durham is awesome. Its bright and sunny, and all the flowers are in full bloom and so I run a 3 mile trail every alternate day. I love this trail because its weaves through a lake, has numerous bridges and undulates. Love the smell of fresh pine as I run. Yay for spring!!

Third, Duke Basketball!!! Honest to God, I love this Team. They won a tough game against Baylor today and we had another game on Friday, against Purdue. We all gather in bars to watch the game and cheer for the team. Good times, lot of backslapping, swearing and High Five-ing.We had a tough game today and I almost died with the tension. It was like watching the Indian Cricket team of 1990s. I can't believe I'm saying this but I think I like Basketball more than Cricket! Nothing gets me pacing like an animal, than watching Duke Play. This will always be MY team! Go Duke!!

Resuming Regular Programming....

I re-read my last post on this blog and it boy,oh boy, it was positively pathetic. I sit here now at the end of another term here at B-school and I'm in a different frame of mind altogether.

Term 2 (October, November & December) was crazy and unbelievably stressful because of classes, internship recruiting and the general mind fuck that I was going through. Term 3 was MUCH better. I got to take courses I loved, recruiting turned out ok, and I came out of the woodworks to become a veritable social butterfly.

I loved Term 3. First there was the unbelievable improv class. I had so much fun and it reaaally helped me become more spontaneous and embrace the moment. My class was unbelievably hilarious and we did skits such as the ones on "Whose line is it anyway?" and boy, did we bring the house down or what. Then there were the courses. We got to take electives this term and I took really interesting classes that had real world practical applications. For instance, I'm doing some research for a social media marketing firm which has me super kicked even though its a lot of fun. I loved my operations class as well. the Prof was really funny and made a mundane course fun.

Term 3 also meant watching a lot of Basketball games. Duke has a legendary basketball team and I've become a HUUUGE basketball afficianado. I got hooked when I first saw our Blue Devils play inside Cameron Indoor stadium. The atmosphere was unbelievable and the duke fans are so rowdy that its tough to NOT get hooked. I love our team, our cheers and our history and I seriously hope we make it big in NCAA.

Ok enough sports. The thing I love the most about B-school here at Duke is how social it is. Numerous parties and numerous opportunities to get know people I go to school with. I made it a point to go out atleast 3 nights a week this term and even though my studying took a hit, I got to know a lot of my classmates really well.

Although I'm sad term 3 is over, there is so much to look forward to in term 4 in terms of courses, activities and life. For now though, its spring break and I can't wait to see my best friend since school. Looking forward to waffles, Chocolates and home-brewed beer :)

vingt six

Its term two in B-school and I just turned 26 and all this together has one contemplating existential-type things such as - what am I doing with my life? is it all worth it? why am I single, 26 and in B-school...you get the drift..

Contrary to expectations, being freshly single at B-school is not a very good thing. Firstly, being freshly single requires you to go through a sort of relationship rehab where you crawl into your corner and purge yourself of all the baggage and B-school by its very nature of habitual networking doesn't let you do that. Secondly, considering the average age at my school is 29, the pool of single men is extremeeeely limited. (as an aside, notice how I'm analyzing my single status?? Its all those cases I tell you!)

But jokes aside..its painful having to take all the school stress, internship stress and the stress of beating yourself up for a failed relationship. All of which leaves me wondering what my achievement in life is. I'm ALONE at 26 and thats the painful truth and its scary.

Being in a relationship spoils you. The "you" is obliterated and you start thinking like a team. Your experiences become "our" experiences and your decision becomes "our" decision. You stop thinking independently and every thought is shared. That's what hurts when you are single again. You have no one to turn to, no one to talk to and no one to whom you can vent out to without being judged. Its like being a unable to walk without crutches and falling.

Relationships may end but the emotional baggage doesn't. Till you purge it you can never really leave it behind and thats why all I want to do is hide and be away from the world. I want to rediscover being alone with myself again, to rediscover my own undistilled thoughts and finally come to a place where being alone is not so bad.

So till then, au revoir

Crazy, si si

This blog needs a defibrillator...considering I have to resurrect it every few months. I feel sorry for my blog considering its closest to my heart....enough sentiment already!

The upshot of things are that they are crazy and hectic and fun ..all at once. I hardly get time to breathe during the week, so considering that I'm rather happy with the way this weekend turned out. Very productive study wise but also managed to sneak in some treats in the manner of reading 2 chapters of India after Gandhi (Best book ever, you HAVE to read it), 1 episode of project runway and 2 of my favourite music albums - The miseducation of lauryn hill and lovers rock...quite good don't you think?

I know there are many of you out there applying for B-schools this season and things can get quite anxious. There are many who might be questioning the feasibility of studying in a foreign B-school. I would like to tell you that there is nothing quite like studying in an alien environment. The diversity in schools here is ginormous and you sometimes won't believe the conversations you end up having. That aside, my only advise would be to figure out your goal in life and then assess if studying in a US B-school will help you achieve that.

Last weekend was quite fun. It was campout time, where all of us grad students camped out for 36 hours for Duke Basketball tickets. The beauty of campout is that you have to stay awake the whole time because you have to make to 22 check-ins during the course of those 36 hours. If you miss a check -in you're out of the race for season tickets. I made it through campout and its something I'm most proud about. I'm tough y'all!! apart from that it was brilliant fun...all night dancing and made dashes to the check-in point. I did get tickets so it was all worth while in the end

As usual I miss home. I can't help it. There are times I feel like calling my peeps and realize that there is a time difference..thats what I miss and I feel like I have to rebuild myself here. It feels odd, it feels awkward and a lot of work but sometimes it can be fun

Legal Alien

I feel sorry that I don't update this dead space called my blog often. I started out this blog because i love to write and this blog gave me my creative outlet. My only excuse is that life has been rather tumultous the last few months and was not condusive to blogging.

The upshot of things is that I now find myself in a US B-school. Yes, its hard to imagine that I'm finally here and not playing solitaire in my cubicle in Pune, although I must confess that I already yearn for my solitaire freedom and end of month pay checks.

Adapting to a new life in a new country is not easy though and every few minutes the same thought comes back to "This is NOT india". It feels odd to be indentified by only your Passport and to be told to value your I-20 dearly and you wonder how your life came to be attached to this otherwise mundane documentation. The flip side is that little things like going to the super market turn into a big adventure although, I do miss strutting around like I own the place in "my" country.

There are so many experiences that I want to encapsulate. Going back to school feels awesome. Waking up every morning, feeling like your life is on track is the best feeling ever and I wish I could capture every minute of this experience.

I have ofcourse made notes of my experiences so far here. So if you are an aspiring US Grad student, the following is worth noting:

1. Make sure you pick a good airline to come to this country because you don't want to take 72 hours to get here and if on the flight the food trolley hits your knee and makes you scream in agony, make sure you sue the airline or ask for complimentary return tickets to india, redeemable, preferably by 2015 (Yes, take what you can get)

2. Grad student life requires you to get accustomed to an impoverished lifestyle. The sooner you realize that you cannot afford Jimmy Choos or even $20 pizza, the better your transition

3. Get ready to carry your passport everywhere - to get a bank account, to get a phone connection, to buy a car, to buy wine and even to buy ciagarettes. Ofcourse this makes you paranoid about losing your passport (God Forbid!) and don't be surprised if this becomes your favourite recurring nightmare

4. If you live in a city where there is no transport system then buying a car becomes imperative. Yes you WILL miss autos in this country and even, dare I say it, the impugnity of auto drivers

5. Buying a car is not easy because of supply and demand issues. If you live in a university town teeming with grad students but with very cars around to buy, you will find yourself checking craigslist feverishly, desperately calling potential car owners and even praying to the entire pantheon of Hindu deties to get you that chosen car. You will leap at the mention of a Honda Civic that has done 100K+ miles and then feel your heart sink when its out of your budget. Yeah get used to that heart break and again Take what you can get

6. If you have never been to one, the best part of the settling in process is that first trip to walmart. Don't for the love of god fall in love with it. It goes against our impoverished ethos. You will walk down the aisles and want to buy everything in sight. Don't buy chocolate milk or hazelnut coffee creamer or peaches or super sized Tostitos or side tables or 32 pack diet coke or a printer/caner/copier or a mini safe that you dont need. Don't Walmart. Period

7. After settling in finally, a thought might occur to you to actually visit the School. It is a good thought and should have been number one on the agenda had you not had transportation issues. You will gawk at your surroundings and wonder how you made it here. You will wonder if you are an admission mistake and that thought won't leave even when you start classes. You will however make peace with how mediocre your own accomplishments are when compared to the rest of your class

8.As a grad student in the US, Facebook updates and photo uploading will assume a great siginificance in your life. You ofcourse have to drill home the fact that you are indeed a grad student in the US. Be sure to take that camera even to class because you never know when a facebook moment will come by. As student life involves tons of partying, make sure you know the night mode settings on your camera. You don't want to take a gazillion photos and realize that not one is Facebook-able

9. As a student you will do silly things enthusiastically (which is rather alarming) like taking part in a tricycle race for instance, with your entire batch egging you on. This act will be recorded for posterity thanks to Facebook Photos, after which you'll be able to answer the question "The Biggest mistake of my life" quite honestly

10. The best part of being a grad student is the diversity that you'll encounter. You'll bump into students from every conceivable country. Don't fall prey to country stereo types. Don't for the love of God tell a Jamaican that you "Absolutely, Love Love love LOVE LURVE" Bob Marley or an italian that you "Saw the Godfather a thousand times" There is a good chance he/she will never speak to you again

11. Your accent, grammar and intonation will change and you will punctuate every sentence with "Totally" "Absolutely" and "Awesomely"( which is not even a word..) and other such attempts at fitting in

12. You will need to get used to time difference with India. You will forget that Sunday Night 7PM for you is actually Monday Morning 5:30 AM for your folks. You will get yelled at and they will ofcourse threaten to stop transferring money to you

Sigh...there are so many experiences...will definitely come up with more updates on Grad Life 101.

The thing I miss most are my loved ones. I miss the fact that they are so far away and that they can't see me in my new setting. I miss my old life which had certainty and riotous colours about it. On somedays I feel like being back in that lovely chaos,under a sun that dazzled and teeming with wonderous possibilities. Then I open my eyes and know that I'm here....

Guilty!

(Let me cheat and post a poem I wrote in college...earned me a place on the editorial board in the first year!)

Guilty!
Yes , your honour, I killed her, I killed my wife,
Quite simple really, I used her own kitchen knife,
I find that funny don’t you?,
What’s the matter? I swear its all true.
You see that knife was a present, it was given to us,
At our wedding I think, or may be it was Christmas.
I suppose you’d all want to know why,
Hold on judge, methinks that woman there, could do with a good cry.
I Had had a bad day, you see I was fired,
And she refused to make tea,,I got angry,,, guess I was a wee tired,
Anyhow, “ make it yerself” she bellowed, “you can can’t you?”
She had to die judge,by god , The woman was cuckoo!,
I drove the knife through her heart, I’m sure she suffered no pain,
Why, look you all, I know what you think, you think I’m insane!
Kind of like officer Brady, he was aghast at what I had done,
He was eating doughnuts, he really should have offered me one!
Coming back to where I was, you ought not to let me me digress,
I cleaned all the blood and gore, for I detest making a mess,
I left her on the kitchen floor, I left her lyin’ there,
Made me tea ofcourse and drank it without a care,
I then walked to the station, I had no intention of getting away,
I was too weary to run, not after such a rough day!
I told the officer, I committed a crime, told him I killed her,
But he wouldn’t believe me, “you ‘fessin to murder?”
That’s all your honour, it was just a simple row,And if you have no further questions, I’d like to step down now

Do saal baad

I don't celebrate anniversaries in general. I do remember them but I'm generally very meh about such things. But in March this year, I completed 2 years in Pune and this made me reflect on the person that I'd become. I thought about the whimsical decision that I had made in March 2007, to move out of Bangalore - My Home, Cocoon and sanctuary - after 24 years to a place where I didn't know anyone. I went back to day I arrived in Pune for the first time. With my entire life contained 2 large bags, in a comfortable but alien company guesthouse house and contemplating the future. Would I like it Here? and what if this was a bad decision? what if I had to move back to Bangalore within a month with my tail and bag between my legs? I look back at that memory and think about all my experiences here and I'm happy I made that decision to live on my own. It has helped me grow in ways that I cannot begin to articulate. Suffice to say that the before and after is clearly distinguishable

I still remember the incident that made me take the radical step of moving out of Bangalore. it was the New York incident. I had just been duped by a NY cabbie of $160 for a 30 minute ride. I couldn't believe I was capable of being duped. I, who had topped Theory of Machines 2 in a class of 100 boys no less. I remember bawling on the streets of Manhattan afterwards in humiliation, anger and frustration. I remember roaming the streets with tears streaming down, fearful of everything and wondering how I'd gotten to be this wimp. After that I resolved to toughen up and get my edge back. When a job offer from Pune, I realized that this was it. This is what I needed to become a street smart, confident person and to grow from the over protected, insular, wimp that I'd become.

It was tough at first. I didn't understand the language or the culture. I remember sitting in meetings where all present spoke in Marathi and I, the one who was responsible for the action items, looked on like I was on the sets of Dumb and Dumber - with a very big EH? written on my face. I gradually learnt to understand the language and the people, to an extent now, where I actually feel quite at home here. I have learnt so much from this experience that I feel a need to articulate a few aspects that have changed in me.

It taught me to make friends. In Bangalore, I lived in my own little insular bubble, with my won little coterie of friends and we all lived happily. I didn't feel the need to connect with other people. When I came here, I had no choice but to connect and make friends fast. I learnt to reach out to people and open myself to them. I moved out of my intellectual circle and found other utterly interesting people who didn't read The Economist (Which in my earlier avataar was the prerequisite for any friendship with me). Thankfully My job in Pune required me to work with people at all levels - From the support staff in logistics to the top management. It required me to adapt to people at every level and I found myself loving every human interaction I was having. I can actually call myself an extrovert now. I appreciate people a lot more and I'm not an intellectual snob anymore and that's a good thing.

It taught me to fix things. Yes. I have become the champion fixer. I used to freak out earlier when appliances and stuff popped. Now, I have an air of nonchalance when things break down. I stop blaming the universe for this malfunction and get around to fixing things. The TV in our apartment conked recently and I would have FREAKED out earlier considering I'm the child of the networks. But I was so hum about the whole thing. I made a few calls. Found the TV repair guy. Carted the TV to him in a rickety auto. Got the thing fixed in 2 hours (attended gym in the interim) and carted it right back, to a point where the Roomate went "You Fixed it already?? wow!!". I'm so zen these days that I didn't even throw the remote on her face then for her sheer inability to be helpful around the house. My pre-2007 self would not have shunned violence. I'll tell you that. Violence brings me to my next point...

It has made me tough. I mean tough like a pit bull. Infact when I was negotiating with a vendor once, a business head asked me to join his sales group because he thought my aggressiveness would be useful in a sales role. All though I'm still not as street smart as I want to be I know that I'm not a wimp any more. I can fend for myself in any situation.

Most of all, this experience has helped me quell the fear of the unknown in me. I'm not afraid of chasing wild whims and fancies any more. I know I have it in me to face any situation that life puts me in and I may not come out obviously triumphant, in a blaze of glory but I do know that I will have the courage to face it. For that alone, Thank You Pune

A letter to my Hero

Dear Ma,


I have always wanted to chronicle my understanding of you. Its no exaggeration to say that you have always been my Hero, my role model. But I strongly feel that understanding you will help me understand me better. So yes its for a selfish reason, but you've always been very kind towards most of my faults, so here goes:


My most enduring memory of my early years, when I was 4 or 5, was hating you for working.

I hated you for having a job and not being there to drop me to school or pack me awesome lunches. You missed my sports days and gave me the same old bread sandwich. I hated You. I couldn't understand why your work was more important than me. I hated you simply because I missed you. There was a time, in the upper kindergarten, when during a test, the parents of all the kids were present and helping their wards answer the "test". I didn't have anyone to tell me what the 5 times table looked like and was miserable. I didn't hate dad for working but I was filled with anger towards you. I envied the other kids whose mothers were omnipresent for every goddamn school event.


Then, as I began making sense of the things around me, I realized that I was privileged in a way. I got the best bicycle, the best dresses, the best birthday parties and the realization that you working helped me get the best of everything. Especially when I got put into a really posh school in standard 6 for which you and dad had to cough up a pretty big donation. You both did that without thinking twice and I found myself in the company of rich kids, wondering how I got here. I remember appreciating, for the first time, the privileges that your job afforded me.


As I immersed myself in studies and realized that I loved school, I remember the seeds of ambition taking root in me. I wanted to become somebody. I wanted to do something. I wanted to utilize me and make a difference. I remember looking at you in a different light altogether. I saw you not as a mother or as a bread winner but as an achiever. As someone who was the first woman scientist in the country to be feted by Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and all this when you were in your twenties. I remember looking at your photographs, receiving subsequent awards from other prime ministers and feeling pride swell up in me. I remember you telling me about how you work with farmers to improve their crop yields to make India self sufficient. That's when I stopped looking at the other kids with envy and felt nothing but disdain when their Stay at Home Mothers (SAHM) came to collect report cards.You were a superstar in my eyes and I didn't care that you missed all my best student award ceremonies.


When I was in college and was angst ridden as everyone, I remember you asking me what I wanted to do in life. When I replied, in a moment that only be described as “random rebellion”, that I wanted to just stay at home and marry a rich man, I remember that quiet look of exasperation on your face. You didn't chastise me for it, instead you said that if that was what utilized my talents to the best then I should by all means stay at home. That's what you taught me - to utilize my talents. To do what I was born to do. When I asked you why you work and slog your butt off, you simply said it was because you loved what you did. That thought stayed with me through college and helped me choose a job that was off the beaten path. Having found my raison d'etre, I now realize why you emphasized on me utilizing my talents to the fullest. Its the best feeling in the world isn't it? when you love what you do?

But Ma, having been in the work force for 4 years now, I also have come to appreciate the trade-offs that you've had to do to balance work and family. You were not just a working professional you were a working mother and I know now that it's probably the most difficult job in the world. It must have been tough to reject promotions that might have warranted extensive travel in favour of spending more time with your Kids. You must have been wrecked with Mommy guilt for not attending some of my school events because of some work deadline. It's at this stage in my life that I fully comprehend how tough life is for women like us who want it all - The balance between the Job and the family. The compromises demanded by such a balance is what torments us everyday. I can't begin to imagine the comprises you have had to make but today as I look out into the future, I can't help but look at you in admiration for the manner in which you succeeded in raising us and in having a super-awesome career. I only hope that I have half the character and determination you possess.

What I love about you was how dedicated you are towards your career. How you clung on to it despite going through some tough times - Like raising two small kids by yourself when Dad was on transfer for 10 years. I now understand why you just refused to quit. You were one of the first generation of women in this country to enter the work force and the onus was on you to perform and break the glass ceiling for subsequent generations. I can't begin to imagine the gender bias you must have faced because I face it too at work at this age. I have colleagues who tell me that as a woman I don't have to worry about promotions because I have a husband who'll take care of me subsequently. Yes. I can imagine the taunts you must have faced. The hard work you must have put in to get half as much credit. The unfairness of it all. I now know why it hurts you when educated women in my times opt to sit at home. I feel proud of you when I go to work because I don't have to prove my worthiness everyday and that I'm evaluated on an equal footing along with the men.

At this stage in my life, I think I understand why you are so tough and yet so fragile. You have been tempered by the times. I love you for your strength. Only you could tell me to follow my heart and go to a US school in such times when everybody is advising against it. Only you could tell me to have an incredible two years and chase a dream. I also love you for being so tender. For being annoyed at me for not calling home often. For my lack of culinary skills. I love you and admire you and I only hope I develop half the strength and courage that you posses. I desperately want to make you proud and I sure as hell will try to.

Your adoring daughter,

A

what? its 2009 already??

..and I didn't get to transition properly thanks to getting ill a million times over and a heavy dose of work. The two always come together and I'm telling you its a collusion between God and top management. Its a CONSPIRACY, I tell you!

Well the illness was bad - Gastroenteritis and so had to be hospitalized for 6 days. Well I didn't want to write about it but I want to, because it's the ultimate nightmare scenario of anybody living on their own. I realized how important it is to have a designated ICE - In Case of Emergency- person. Mine happened to be V and thank god for that. V is more than an ICE, he is Man Friday. He will drink with you on a weekday when you are depressed and arrange for things if the need arises. Infact, when I was puking for the 300th time that day, I texted V, asking him to come with me to the hospital the next morning. He called right back and blasted me for even texting when I was not well and told me he was taking me to the hospital right then.

I puked all the way to the hospital and immediately after reaching, a whole host of nurses pounced on me and ran gazzilion tests on me. Hospitals always have a prophylactic effect on me. I stopped puking in the hospital and was wondering if I should perhaps make a dash for it. I was, even embarrased for a moment before nausea hit me like crazy and felt sick to my stomach (no pun intended). They suggested I get admitted because my blood pressure was really low and just like that needles were struck and intra-venous saline was started. In that moment of clarity, I asked V to take pictures of me in the hospital for facebook. Yes, you heard me. My thinking was that, if I had to suffer through reams and reams of St.Tropez/Venice/Carribean photos of various people, I had every right to subject everybody to hospital gore. I told V that I would update my status message with lurid details of my vomit and such. V agreed and started taking photos like mad. Me in my hospital smock, me in the wheel chair, me dying of nausea etc etc. The nurses actually thought I was mental and that I had come to the wrong hospital!

Well, after more theatrics later I got wheeled to my room and fell asleep. Till...the Loved One made a dramatic entrance at 4 am like a knight in shining armor. He cracked a joke about my surroundings and patted me to sleep. After that he totally took care of me. He took on my insurance company and got me upgraded to a better room with a TV and everything. He made me laugh when I was too nauseous to eat and even gave me forbidden pieces of garlic bread when I couldn't eat the hospital food anymore.But the TV in the room was the clincher. After 2 days in a TV-less room, my dramatic recovery began the moment I got to watch MTV Roadies. Just for that a big sloppy kiss to MTV Roadies, the bestest show ever on TV. I absolutely love how it panders to my basest instincts, with a good measure of shadenfraude thrown in. But coming back to the Loved One, I fell in love with him all over again because of the concern and sensitivity he showed. He even said I looked pretty in my hospital smock. I wanted to cry because I couldn't believe I had trained him so well (I'm so gonna get whacked for this, sorry baby!). He made me laugh so much that when it was time to leave the hospital, I accidently asked the nurse when I could "Check Out" as if we were in a hotel suite!

I got discharged in 6 days, after they ran every possible test they could and after pumping me with enough anitbiotics to last a lifetime. I lost my appetite and promised never to eat till the Loved One made his Daal. This daal was heaven. Infact after tasting it, heaven should now be called daal. It not only gave me my appetite back but I after that I pretty much wanted to eat everything in sight. Which was a strict no, no and so had to contend myself with eating home cooked, non spicy food.

I skipped work and went home to Bangalore a day later to get mollycoddled by the folks. My mother fed me like one would a starved somali child. Actually the whole illness made me lose 4 Kgs and I ended the year on the exact weight that I wanted to be at. I spent 8 months in the gym in the hope of achieving that feat and it took just 6 days in the hospital in the end.

I got pampered for 10 days and then came back to Pune for work and promptly fell ill again, this time - the Flu. Heavy workload promptly came in as well, causing me to get down on my knees and literally beg all the gazillion gods to to please spare me.

Well there, that was my account of the past 4 weeks not pretty by any means. 2008 was such a Yo-Yo year for me. Good things happened but bad things happened as well. It has made me more pessimistic than ever. But hey, atleast I didn't Facebook the whole hospital thing. I still have some decency left. Probably the only reason why I can never get on MTV Roadies. hmmmm

What Next?

I was thinking of something cheerful and fluffy to write but I can't after what happend a week ago. Its hard to see this blank page and not want to write about happened, how angry it makes you feel and how powerless and fateful life seems to have become. Its just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it could just as easily have been me or you. That's what we were robbed off last week. The right to feel safe. Because till then, terror strike was just a random link on some news page. Oh 30 people died in a bomblast somewhere, really sad that...Its not that any of us are callous, its just that we'd become soo immune to it all till this audacious attack happened. I think that's what shocked us all - the manner in which it happened and not that it happend at all. I say this because just yesterday there was a blast in Assam and 3 people died but that wasn't important to our news channels who were busy listening to the latest volt face by the Pak PM and it wasn't important to any of us either - there were no Facebook updates mourning the loss of these people. I feel sad for us. That we've become so immune that we need a heinous act to pour our anguish over.

But that's not what I wanted to write about scores have other bloggers have articulated the frustration and anger a lot better than I ever could - a few links here and here. But what I wanted to add my two cents to are the next steps. What do we do now? I want to offer some solutions because I don't want to go down as one of those people who complained but did nothing. So Mr. Prime Minister, if you are listening, a few pointers.

Firstly, had this situation occurred in a business corporation, not would I have been stripped of my job a long time back, but would have been incarcerated for eternity for bungling up so badly. Thats what I decided to - analyze this from a corporate mindset.

Its clear we need an organization change - too many mini institutions and too many turf wars, resulting in chaos and non cooperation between teams. I could hardly believe the appalling leaks that are coming out of RAW. It seems that they warned of an attack in september but didn't care what happend to it after. Every department is putting its hand up and excusing themselves from the blame. Its like saying that you knew the competition's price and you told some random person about it and your responsibility ends there. In any business, thats grounds for sending you home. We not only need a simpler organization structure that unifies internal security and intelligence agencies. I read an article on the TOI recently on the next 10 steps to take and I thought it a fairly good overview of the organizational change needed. But sadly in our country organization change isn't enough. Decision making authority is important too. If ever we do get an agency for internal security, I hope it gets a faster, quicker decision making authority too. This is what happened on the night of the tacks. Mumbai Police calls ATS who then call the chief minister who called the home minister who called the NSG chief who then called up the unit in Harayana!!! they lost close to 5 hours in the interim. Bureaucracy and hierarchy prevented the call from going to the right person.

Thats another pet peeve of mine. Why is everyone baying for the blood of ministers? Didn't we all read history in school to know that our ministers rarely stratetegize and that they just blindly sign files. period. Their handlers are the IAS officers - the secretaries. They are the ones in charge, what file should be sent, who should get transferred to where etc. Why is no one baying for their blood goddammit??? I think they are more responsible than the ministers. No ministerial secretary has resigned over this and I wonder why? Powerful IAS lobby perhaps? This is aking to firing the non executive board member of a company instead of the CEO. I heard someone saying on CNN-IBN that most IAS officers consider the home ministry a "punishment posting". Internal security is a punishment??

Apart from organizational change, we need the best and brightest minds working for internal security. But that isn't possible with the salaries and the equipment that our forces get. I think our forces did a stellar job that day despite the poor equipment that they had. Tells volumes about our misplaced priorities isn't it?? I don't care if I have to pay a special tax on internal security but can we please pay them a million times more so that they are motivated to protect this nation??

I'm tired. I'm really tired that it takes over 4100 terror attacks to act tough. We are worse than a soft state, we are a country with no balls whatsoever. Call me unpatriotic if you will but thats what I think. Whoever in the world can come and fuck us over and over again and all we do is issue " a strong condemnation". Mr. Prime Minister, do something goddammit!! Show them that nobody messes with us!

Epiphany can be a salman khan song..sometimes..

Saturday evening it was. 5PM. I stood with nothing left to do, antsy, slightly depressed when an SMS beeped. It said "Wanna do scream? Free pick up and drop facility available" This, my friends, is what is called, "Divine Intervention". Its not the red sea parting, or about sending plagues to desert dwellers, its about a sweet missive from the heavens that pretty much answers all questions that a girl might have on a Saturday night
- Where to go tonight?
- Who will buy me free drinks?
- When do I get to wear that new godawesome dress?
- When do I get to wear that new godawesome shoes?
- How can I do dancing tonight?
- How can I go dancing, drinking, wearing godawesome clothes and not spend any money?

Answer: Tadaa....by going to Scream (Pune's only happening night club) with friends V and S.

V and S were the two blokes I treated for my birthday and to who, I gave a lot of hell for, for giving me Milk Chocolates as present. Lovely two people that they are, inspite my shameless demand for "tangible prezzies", they decided to give me 2 books and a trip to Scream as my gift.

I love night clubs. I love being awash in a sea of pulsating rhythms. So when the SMS from V came, It was all I could do to restrain myself from bouncing all around my room. I was listening Keane being pensive all day and now I got a chance to jiggy to the Desi Girl song from Dostana. Life was perfect! So I wore my godawesome dress which was a swishy strapless number in red with gold stripes (ok my description does not do justice..but it looked awesome I swear!) and inaugurated my awesome black open - toe sandals from Charles & Keith. When the two blokes came to pick me up, I was already in Diva mode.

Then they tell me that we wouldn't be drinking at the club at all. They were instead, planning to buy Vodka and coke from a local wine shop and drink it all up in the parking lot of Scream. When I heard their plans, I wanted to Scream (bad pun..I know) "I'm dressed to kill and you guys want me to drink vodka from a plastic cup??" It was either that or no Scream they said. So, me, the much-reduced-in- ego diva had no choice but to drink up in the parking lot with all the security guards giving us shady looks. But it was fun! we all marveled at the ability of 3 successful people to still be utterly frugal. Soon, thanks to being very liberal with the Vodka, I was all wheeeeeeeee and tipsy!

That's when we entered the club and it totally rocked. It was glorious uninhibited dancing and I felt I could keep dancing forever. V decided to teach me salsa in the middle of the dance floor and the man spun me around everywhere and it was all dizzyingly good. To thank him for teaching me some salsa, I showed V my favourite dance step in the whole world - the water sprinkler!! I don't care if it looks silly but its the bestest! Then weirdness happened when this random chick decided to intrude onto our group and started hitting on S. Then after dancing with S she started hitting on ME! I started freaking out and was all WTF!!! V rescued me and random chick went back to hitting on S which made V and me sigh. We were both missing our significant others and cursing our respective situation of being in long distance relationships. We were getting along really fine when the music switched from house to bollywood and then the whole place went crazy. I don't know where I'd be without bollywood. I got to do the desi girl dance finally. All that practising in front of the mirror helped and I acquitted myself perfectly.

When Scream decided to close at 2 PM, we all were exhausted beyond belief. Although, may I please add a shout out to Charles & Keith? 6 inch heels and it totally didn't hurt! I'm going to be their brand ambassador from now on! I lasted 4 hours on the dance floor without once taking my shoes out. Ladies, please pay homage to C & K. We went back to the parking lot to drink some more and reminisce quietly. We switched on the FM and guess what, they were playing Salman Khan's greatest hits!!! Just when I thought this night couldn't sillier, they played DA BOMB salman khan song - Garam Chai!!! And there we were, 3 people with moderately successful careers, with stress, life's myriad worries, laughing and singing "Ek Garam Chai ki pyaali ho, Koi mujko pilaney waali ho"

That's when it struck me, Life needs to be silly. It's what rescues us from all the gravity around us. Who da thunk, salman khan would help me sort through all the depressing clutter in my life.

P.S: V and S, big sloppy kisses to both of you for being soooo nice to me.

Oh btw, If it isn't clear already, I *HATE* Facebook

So its a bright and sunny new day and you find that you are only five minutes late to work. You heave a sigh of relief because:



a. You don't have to make lame ass excuses for your late-ness such as "Oh I've been working so much with the US team that it twisted my sense of time and I started believing that I was on daylight saving too"

b. You are spared the embarrassment of seeing the look of disbelief on your boss's face when do infact have a genuine excuse like the last time - remember that? You told your boss that you lost your debit card and had to spend an entire hour canceling the card and then had to wait for another hour for a friend to give you the money because you were penniless. And because you were penniless, you actually couldn't come to office. Yeah your boss chortled away. But that didn't disturb you. What disturbed you was that your boss didn't show any concern for your state of penury. What's happening to the world you ask.



So, its all good today morn. Many people commented on your new haircut, which is always an upper. You turn on your laptop. Watch it hum back to life. Curse the shit out of it when it takes too long to load. You let your mails download one by one. Or in your case, make it bombs dropping by one by one. Work for you has never been less than world war 3. So while the bombs are dropping, you check your personal mail account to see if you have any new job offer. Yes your official position has always been that you love your work and yada yada and you really do but it doesn't really hurt to be curious. And that's how you justify a lil personal mail checking. All seems to be good there. Oh. Wait a facebook message from someone you exchanged pleasantries with 8 yrs back. Oh you wonder what she could want?



So you log into facebook and immediately see that your entire "friends" circle is up and about and so bloody active. Lot of status message updates already. Somebody's status message says that they just had a fancy breakfast that included bacon, ham, croissants and preserves. You sigh on reading that and your stomach rumbles because:



a. You've forgotten what a breakfast is because you haven't had one in a zillion years, because you have to look after yourself all by yourself

b. For you, there can only be only dynamite breakfast and that is the set dose special at shanti sagar together with south indian filter coffee.



Deep sigh. And you are filled with hate for that person with the fancy breakfast because just 20 minutes into your day and you are already yearning...



You peruse through your mails and pay special attention to the one from the boss. It says he needs the budget by 4 PM. Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit you say. You totally forgot about it. An entire year's budget in less than 6 hours!! (coffee breaks not included) But you don't panic. You are strangely zen about the whole thing because:



a. You did this last year in 3 hours, so considering that, this time it seems like a walk on the beach

b. You have everything you need so its just a matter of putting things together. Infact you even have the competition's budget - which needed a lot of chicanery on your part and its something that your proud of

c. You have a secret weapon called the "Miscellaneous" field. A place where you are going put all your extra needs if you run of time



So, all sorted, you toggle your windows and come back to the facebook page. You decide that this would be the day that you would update your status message. You think hard about what you want to say. Unlike other people, you are not at all glib when it comes to one-line self explanatory sentences. So you think hard. You frown. How about..



"..... is facing world war 3 at work"



Nah..too boring and very work slavish. Meanwhile your voyeuristic self rears its pretty head and you start trawling through all your "friends' "photo albums. You see that one of them has posted pics on the Sistine chapel. Again you sigh a deep sigh. You look around your cubicle, which, infact you remind yourself, was voted the most unclean cubicle in your entire building. You also remember how they took pictures of it to educate people on how not to maintain a cubicle. Sistine Chapel sounds nice you sigh. You yearn for a vacation. You've not had a vacation since err..well two weeks ago when you went to Ooty. That's it, you think. You'll tell everyone about your Ooty trip



"............is wishing that she was in front of a toasty fireplace in Ooty"



Ooty? you realize how lame that sounds. There are people putting up pictures about bar crawls in barcelona and here you are talking about lame ass ooty. You veto that one too. About the bar crawl, you wonder how people go to bars armed with cameras because:



a. When you want to get drunk, you never tell the people you are gulping with to hang on a sec and pose for a pic. How do people post apparently drunk pictures you ask yourself?

b. It sounds utterly lame ass and cheesy



You trawl some more and find that your best friend is "in a relationship" all of a sudden. And there's a little pink heart next to it. You start hyper ventilating because:



a. anybody in any relationship makes you hyper ventilate out of curiosity because that's just the person you are

b. You are hopping mad that the bitch didn't tell you and that you had to find out



So you do the most logical thing and immediately speed dial a common friend (CF). CF tells you that the bitch didn't tell anyone and that it was a facebook announcement you see. I've heard of breaking news and all but this was ridiculous. What ever happened to the good ol' fashioned manner of calling all your friends and telling them that you're in love and all. Yes, to be honest, you loathed such saccharine calls, but in hindsight, it seems more acceptable than this pink heart menace. You want your status message to say



".............Loathes pink hearts"



You veto that too, because in reality you don't loathe pink hearts. You just hate the bitch. You get back to your excel sheet and concentrate on the budget. Your meeting reminder pops up and reminds you that you have a major product meeting to attend to. You decide to go because:



a. Its good time pass

b. Its a meeting where cake and freshly brewed tea is served. What's not to attend you ask?



The meeting breezes on. You find yourself engaged. You are relieved and happy to know that the product will not only do well in the next 5 years, it will also kick ass. Hooray, pipip, Jai etc. Your ebullience makes you want to change your status message to



"......is working for the winning team"



but you shoot it down because being gun-ho about your company is soo passe in this world. You come out of the meeting and go back to your budget. You notice that your "Miscellaneous" line item is looking alarmingly large. You also notice that the whole world has converged on facebook and is furiously Web2.0-ing. Two of your colleagues ping you asking for advice on relationships and career. You are a born nutcase and instead of realizing that you should stay away from it all, you plunge in and give on full on advice. You tell one to go for it and the other to follow his bliss. You colleague thanks you for the relationship advice and informs you that he will break up with his girlfriend. You gulp. You double gulp. You then launch into a full on speech and try to dissuade this guy from breaking up because:



a. You don't want to be THAT person who precipitated the break up. Bad karma follows THAT person

b. You refuse to learn and just shut-the-fuck-up



Post the traumatic stress of being THAT person, you want your message to read



"..................is making a mental note NEVER to give relationship advice"



You veto that too because you know that isn't really true because as far as you know, giving random advice is truly your forte.



You are done with the budget and mail it off to the boss. You see that since morning all your facebook friends have been updating and re-updating their status messages. You have taken an entire day and not even come up with one while your buddies have made 15 updates already. A realization, that surges forth with a deep resonance, hits you. You loather this entity. Facebook. Because:



a. You are learning minute details of people that you wish you hadn't known. What ever happened to that thing called Discretion you ask. Why can't people just shut up you wonder? Why do I have to know what they ate, what they feel, what they are doing, who they are doing....why all this information and the urge to share. If people want to share, they should start a blog you say to yourself

b.Its unbridled exhibitionism. People don't want to share, they just want to show off. Oh look how cool I am, look how many friends I am etc. Its like high school and college all rolled into one. Take for instance all those people suddenly taking Barack Obama quizes. Really?? when surely 6 months ago these very people would have though that Barack Obama was some sort of sordid, diabolical south indian movie.

c. Your real true friends are lost in this diluted pool called "Friends list" It has all become so random. You hate the fact that your best friends write you non-intimate scraps that everyone can see and that those personal phone calls or emails have stopped because everything is on display on the profile page

d. You apparently have shit loads of work when apparently the rest of the world is having a care free life. Don't these people have work to do you ask?



You ruminate and close the facebook page.

................................................................................................................................................................

DISCLAIMER

1. Fictionalized account of my work place. No resemblance to the actual work I do and yes I do do a lot of work regardless of what my account might suggest

2. I Hate facebook. that part is true

3. Yes, I think in bullet point format.