Blue Brothers

April 10, 2011 3 comments

A story is in the title, someone once told me that. Or, I think I just made it up. Titles fascinate me. They reveal so much, yet, so little. Always teasing, yet, not revealing. Bold, yet shy. Misleading, yet making sense, eventually. Building dread, yet comforting. Inviting, yet rejecting.

I am rarely impatient. Yet, a good deceptive title infuriates me. I hungrily devour books whose titles are difficult to understand. I wait, and wait, and wait some more for them to make sense. Some hint, why, the story is so named.

Some stories are so intricately woven that I do not realize what the title meant until I read the last word. A sense of realization then dawns upon me, like the first ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds after a dark stormy day. Everything is clear then, a sense of peace envelopes me. I feel I somehow knew all along what the title meant. I smile at my impatience, promising to read again with more patience.

My brother was not unlike me. We would read stories together, always ensuring that we never talked about the end until both of us finished reading. Later, we enjoyed discussing, often arguing about which part of the story we enjoyed more. Such stories formed a magical part of our lives, building an unbreakable bond and trust in each other.

However, yesterday was different. I broke an unwritten rule that we had respected throughout our lives. I had read a fascinating tale about two brothers, who stood by each other throughout their lives. They grew up together in happiness, and passed through life’s trials, always knowing the other was looking out for them. Always loyal, always trusting, the brothers never lost faith in each other. Until the end, when one tragically kills the other.

The story was one of the best I had ever read. The title had infuriated me as I read with frantic pace trying to understand what it really meant. And the end, it was glorious, the last piece of a puzzle that began with a maddeningly deceptive title.

I promised to my brother to narrate the story to him as he lay on his deathbed, fighting a losing cause valiantly. I knew the end was near, but wanted to prolong it as much as I could, and read the story as slow as I could. I did not want it to end, believing it would not just be the end of my narration, but the end of my brother’s life.

However, I was wrong. My brother was not strong enough, and my narration was not fast enough for me to reach the end in time. Soon, he knew it was too late, and it was time to say goodbye. As a last request, he asked me to narrate the end before he reached his last breath. I then broke our golden rule and told him the nd.

He smiled teary-eyed at me as he understood what it all meant now. A serene smile before he slipped away into an everlasting sleep, engulfing me in deep sadness. Life, would never be the same again.

My name is Blue, and I killed my brother.

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Update

July 3, 2009 1 comment

I could not think of a more interesting topic name. So this is what it says, an update on me and my life. So much has changed over the last one and a half months. My first job, a new city, new friends, a new home, a new phone, a new laptop, new.. well, almost everything.

About the job, well, I am beginning to love it more and more. The first few days, I wondered how it was possible for everyone I met at Virgin Mobile to say that they loved their job. But now, I’ve fully joined that group of people who love this company. I can go on about this but this is just a short update so I will stop.

I’ve been to Delhi before but this is the first time I have stayed for more than a day. It’s a great city with lots of sights and sounds. A city truly worth its status as the capital of our country. But every city is defined by its people, and the less said about them, the better.

I never get the right words for complimenting people. So I’ll just stop by saying that I’ve made some very good friends in the last month and a half among the guys who have joined along with me at VMI. We’re having a great time working and otherwise.

Tireless days in the Delhi sun, greedy brokers, greedier owners. Sums up my house search at Delhi. Finally got a decent flat that I’m sharing with three of the guys. We moved in a few days back and I’m looking forward to interesting times.

New phone, new laptop.. well, just perks of the company. 9210918313’s the number, for those who care. Laptop’s just for work and browsing right now. I lost my entire music collection unfortunately and life can sometimes get boring without Dylan and Floyd for background music.

The highlight of this period was a 10 day trek that my company sent me with some 50 others. The Himalayan adventure was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

The boring tone of the post is because I’m half asleep. Life’s been great.. wonderful, in fact.

I’m loving it.

Categories: Uncategorized

FEAR

March 21, 2009 4 comments

I often think about what really motivates people in their lives. Success? Love? Wealth? Nothing really seems right. But if you dissect each action you take, you can find a common underlying reason for your actions- Fear. Fear of poverty drives one to work harder. Fear of loneliness drives one to seek love. Fear of punishment drives one to leave a righteous life. If you look closely, there is a certain fear driving most of our actions. I am not saying fear is the only motivation, but it certainly plays a huge role in our lives.

By corollary, one who knows no fear would act recklessly without a care in the world. There would be nothing to motivate him/her to do the right thing in situations. It is my opinion that such a person can never really be trusted.

When I was a kid, there were a lot of things I was afraid of. Walking out after dark, big vehicles while crossing roads, death of people I knew etc. Quite early in my life, I categorized fear into two types-

First, the fear of the unknown that holds a great power on you. It is mostly irrational and arises out of lack of knowledge. For example, the fear of ghosts- you’ll never really stop fearing them if you can’t explain away their non-existence. More easily explained are those I like to call probability fears. For example, fear of accidents- there is always a chance you’ll be in one of them. I used to have an irrationally high fear when I was a kid though, often praying for the safety of my parents when they were traveling. In retrospect, this was really a silly fear attributed to my lack of knowledge of how things worked. As I grew older, these fears slowly faded away. I learnt to laugh at stories of ghosts and walk out in the dark without trepidation. I understood machines better, and increasing travel wiped out my fear of accidents. Eventually I realized that such fears easily vanish when you have a good knowledge of how the things that fear you work.

There is another kind of fear though- one that bypasses your mind and lets your body take over, pumping adrenaline into your veins and making you take decisions that can make or break your life in an instant. I first felt this fear when I was suddenly chased by two dogs after fielding the ball in a game of cricket. My body instantly took over making me run faster than I had ever managed. It was only after I covered a fair distance with the dogs still in pursuit that my mind took over and told me to get rid of the ball in my hands, immediately ending their pursuit of me. I still remember this incident in great detail although it was over 10 years ago. The adrenalin had heightened my senses so much that I even remember little details like the color of the dogs’ collars.

Lots of contact sport in college slowly eroded away this fear too. It is basically a fear of bodily harm, and once you understand your body and how it works, you no longer fear injury.

So for quite some time, I had been wondering whether I had lost the ability to fear. I hardly fear the unknown nowadays and it had been some time since I felt that adrenalin rush. All this changed recently though.

I was flying from Delhi to Coimbatore with a detour in Hyderabad. On the way I witnessed the most amazing sight of a storm from above it. Dark swirls of clouds were gathering around a point which was frequently illuminated by flashes of lightning. Our plane was avoiding most of the storm, but it had to descend near the edge to land in Hyderabad. The inevitable turbulence hit us and I sat back nonchalantly as the plane began a bumpy descent much to the chagrin of some of my co-passengers. I could only remember some of my lessons during engineering and smile as I trused the huge machine I was sitting in. And then, suddenly fear hit me.

Our plane which was so far only having a bumpy time, suddenly decided to plummet under gravity for at least 3 seconds, an eternity for us passengers though. For those 3 seconds, I felt the raw fear that had engulfed me when the dogs chased me, sending sparks up my head and hightening my senses. And then it was over, and I couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.¬†

It was only for a brief moment but it was so long since I felt that raw emotion that it really rejuvenated me. Somehow I felt more human after the experience. A little bit of fear really made my day.

Categories: Uncategorized

Times, they are a changin’

February 4, 2009 Leave a comment

People say this is the worst time in over 80 years to graduate! Yet expectations of the past are being applied to our current scenario. Some have accepted that. Many assume they would be among the lucky ones to escape.

So when does optimism cross the threshold and step into delusion? Hope against hope hopen, I wonder?

And for those who stand back and laugh, are they masochists or just helpless?

Categories: Change

Troubled times

November 2, 2008 2 comments

A: Hey, why the long face, buddy?

B: Dude, India’s in big trouble! ūüė¶

 

A: Yeah, I know man- the economy, terrorists, bloody politicians… the country’s going to the sewers!

B: Dude! What the hell are you talking about? We’re 4 wickets down against the Aussies!

A: Oh… oh… YOU MEAN SACHIN’S OUT?!?!

 

It’s true. 83.8% of Indians care more about cricket than India

Categories: Humor in life Tags: ,

Ramesh, of 206 bones

July 17, 2008 7 comments

Here’s a conversation I had on the phone recently with an Anonymous Goon (henceforth to be called AG!)

Phone rings (Californication by Red Hot Chilli Peppers)

Me (fast asleep): Hellooo….

AG: Ramesh hei kya?

Me (still groggy): Kaun?!

AG: Ramesh ko bulao…

Me: Yahaan koi Ramesh nahin hei… wrong number¬†(cuts the call)

Phone rings again, this time I’m nearly awake

AG: Cut kyun kiya bey?

Me: Wrong number bola na…

AG: Abhi wrong number bologe kya… mein ithne din se call kar rahan hun.. ab kaise wrong number ho gaya.. woh Ramesh ko bulao!

Me (perplexed): Ithne din se?! Oh bhaiya, yahaan koi Ramesh nahin he…

AG (increasingly angry): Jab paise dena hei tho wrong number ho gaya na! Usko bol… mein kal aa raha hun…

I just rolled my eyes and cut the call!

Phone rings… well, if he wants to talk, I’m game now!

Me: Oh bhai! Kithne baar bolun?! Wrong number hei! Yahaan koi Ramesh nahin hei… aap galat number call kar rahen hein!

AG: Tumhara number kya hei?

Me: 9956887683!

AG: Yehi number mein teen mahine se call kar raha hun!!! Mujhe bewkoof samaj rakha hei kya?!

Me (trying to control my laughter): Oh boss, yeh number mein ek saal se use kar raha hun… aapka call to kabhi aaya hi nahin!

AG: Usko bol… mera paisa jaldi deno ko… nahin to agli baar mein aake uski haddi thod dunga!

Me (now, very worried about Ramesh): Bhai… aapko yeh bolna hei tho seedha jaake usse bol deejiye.. yeh wrong number hei… mujhe bolke, uska haddi thodne ka fayda kya hei? (at least, give the warning to the right recepient!)

AG: Yeh sab mujhe nahin patha… Ramesh paas mein hei tho use bol dena… paise deno ko… nahin to usko maar daalunga!

Me (confused by the logic): Theek hei boss.. aap usse bath kar leejiye.. (cuts the call)

Of all the wrong calls that I’ve got, this one was by far, the most interesting. I just hope poor Ramesh still has his 206 bones intact

Categories: Humor in life Tags:

Home Sweet Home!

June 6, 2008 2 comments

The best part about coming home for holidays¬†is the fact that I can do absolutely anything I want without caring for the mundane pressures of academic and professional life. Home is where I can lounge on the sofa for hours together, watching the¬†telly distractedly while perusing the latest novel. It is also where I revel in the unconditional love of my parents, knowing that this is one place where I’m always wanted.

Sentiments apart, home is also the only place on earth where, in striking similarity with BBC News, I get fed ‘Every(waking) hour, on the hour!’. Dosas, milk, murukku, sweets, paniaram, pooris etc. etc keep turning up at regular intervals to ensure that my stomach is never given a minute’s respite. I’ve always loved this constant flow of food coming towards my way and never felt any misgivings about gaining a few kgs whenever I got home.

However, 4 years at college with hours of daily football gave me a lean body which I am quite proud of, and ever since, I have made attempts at keeping any gluttonous desires down, except while I am at home. And this is not entirely by choice! At home, any resistance to food is utterly futile, and mom with her phenomenal skills of persuasion always finds a way to feed me. In fact, over the years, my automatic response to mom’s offerings of food have always been a quick ‘No’ followed by at least 5-6 other ‘No’s before I find myself inevitably chewing on some delicacy or other.

Mom has reached such a level that when I truly do not want to eat something, I have to refuse at least 10 times with raising voices each time to get my point across. Her persuasive skills are exceptionally difficult to resist.

Today, however, a funny thing happened. Mom offered me a glass of milk barely half an hour after I had my breakfast, to which I replied with my standard ‘No!’ And surprise, surprise! She did not offer it again. This really jolted me to my senses! Mom accepted my ‘No’ without any questions and without resorting to shove it down my throat! I confess, I was utterly clueless on how to react!

You see, I was in a huge quandary. A part of me was rejoicing that I had finally managed to convince mom at the first go! On the other hand, a small part of me really wanted that glass of milk! I cannot ascribe this part to my liking of the milk, or the fact that now I was not getting it, I really wanted it! This was a really confusing situation for me.

I decided to play it safe and wait and watch. Something had to give… mom would definitely offer me food again, official lunchtime was not far away (I had breakfast at 11 am owing to waking up at 10:30). So I waited and watched TV with mom while perusing the newspaper. It was weird really, a whole half hour passed without mom mentioning the offer of milk again, and my head was throbbing with anticipation!

“Well, shall I get you cold milk then- chocolate or rose flavoured?”, asked mom finally! Internally I rejoiced, but knew I dare not show my joy! I immediately snapped, “Can’t you take no for an answer? I’ll have normal milk, thank you!” Well, the great marketer that mom is, she probably knew all along that I would agree, and frankly, I was relieved myself!

There are somethings that I love about home, and frankly I would never want them to change!

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