Today, reading some beautiful lines on friendship on Dawn's blog reminded me of something I had read and liked way back, so thought I should share this with everyone....
Each of us has a hidden place somewhere deep within our hearts;
A place where we go to get away, to think things through,
To be alone, to be ourselves
This unique place, where we confront our deepest feelings,
Becomes a storehouse of all our hopes, all our needs, all our dreams, and even our unspoken fears.
It encompasses the essence of who we are and what we want to be.
But now and then, whether by chance or design,
someone discovers a way into that place we thought was ours alone
And we allow that person to see, to feel and to share
All the reason, all the uncertainty
And all the emotion we've stored in there
That person adds a new perspective to our hidden realm,
Then quietly settles down in his own corner of our special place,
Where a bit of himself will stay forever
And we call that person............. a friend
Also worth reading is Autumn Leaves
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Blog friends
I am not very regular at writing blogs, but then every morning the first thing I do when I come to office, is to go visit some of the blogs is follow sort of regularly.
It has become a sort of routine/ ritual for me :)....it's almost like saying "hi, whats up, howz life" to all your friends every morning
It never ceases to amaze me how technology is continually making the world a smaller place
par aisa bhi hai ke zindagi ki afra tafri mein apnon se mann ke baat kehne ka ya unke mann ki baat sunne ka samay shayad hum kahin kho chuke hai
It has become a sort of routine/ ritual for me :)....it's almost like saying "hi, whats up, howz life" to all your friends every morning
It never ceases to amaze me how technology is continually making the world a smaller place
par aisa bhi hai ke zindagi ki afra tafri mein apnon se mann ke baat kehne ka ya unke mann ki baat sunne ka samay shayad hum kahin kho chuke hai
Friday, July 21, 2006
Back to college :))
last week we had an external training at office.
and thanks to one of the profs, i (or rather 'we' the whole group) were taken back to our college/ school days.
most of us gave up after struggling for a while to concentrate and grasp at least an ounce of what the poor prof was trying to explain. the presentation style was extremely boring, with the prof reading out practically every number written in the long formulae on the slides in front of us. and as if reading them once was not enough, he read some of them twice or even thrice
A = B * C...........and.......A = B * C.....so......A = B * C
(and i struggled to keep the words "once more once more" from exitting my mouth :)) )
i decided that if i was to stay awake and sit thru the entire class, i had to find myself something else to do than listening to the prof. so after spending some time doodling and ruining some pages of my notepad in the process, i took up the timepass of looking around the traning room to try and gauge the reactions and state of mind of my colleagues.
leaving out one or two (who maybe had a few kilos of patience more than the general lot), everyone had given up.expressions ranged from troubled to mute to sullen to mischievous smiles to one of two people actually catching up on their sleep !!! (and occasionally waking up to shake their head in acknowledgement of what they obviously hadn't heard)
i was finding it hard to keep from bursting into a laugh. my notepad had now turned into a "chat pat" and me and my colleage were busy scribbling our thoughts on it.
when i was almost on the brink of moving out of the conf room for a water break (with no plans to return) the prof finally spoke the golden words we all were dying to hear ----- I believe I have come to an end (well, what the heck was that supposed to mean lol), and all of us escaped from the training room (almost like school kids rushing out at the sound of the lunch break bell)
and thanks to one of the profs, i (or rather 'we' the whole group) were taken back to our college/ school days.
most of us gave up after struggling for a while to concentrate and grasp at least an ounce of what the poor prof was trying to explain. the presentation style was extremely boring, with the prof reading out practically every number written in the long formulae on the slides in front of us. and as if reading them once was not enough, he read some of them twice or even thrice
A = B * C...........and.......A = B * C.....so......A = B * C
(and i struggled to keep the words "once more once more" from exitting my mouth :)) )
i decided that if i was to stay awake and sit thru the entire class, i had to find myself something else to do than listening to the prof. so after spending some time doodling and ruining some pages of my notepad in the process, i took up the timepass of looking around the traning room to try and gauge the reactions and state of mind of my colleagues.
leaving out one or two (who maybe had a few kilos of patience more than the general lot), everyone had given up.expressions ranged from troubled to mute to sullen to mischievous smiles to one of two people actually catching up on their sleep !!! (and occasionally waking up to shake their head in acknowledgement of what they obviously hadn't heard)
i was finding it hard to keep from bursting into a laugh. my notepad had now turned into a "chat pat" and me and my colleage were busy scribbling our thoughts on it.
when i was almost on the brink of moving out of the conf room for a water break (with no plans to return) the prof finally spoke the golden words we all were dying to hear ----- I believe I have come to an end (well, what the heck was that supposed to mean lol), and all of us escaped from the training room (almost like school kids rushing out at the sound of the lunch break bell)
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
She Walks...
Found this while browsing the net....it is amazing how you sometimes find your own feelings mirrored in a stranger's words
She Walks
......by Jeffrey Carter
She walks along this lonely street
no one to dry her tears
massage her tired feet
or calm ever present fears
Seeing life through tainted heart
making everything gray
Alone, her life, anew to start
Always searching for a way
But life goes on no matter what
That fact she cannot quell
Memories ne'er to be forgot
Within her heart they dwell
So she keeps walking this lonely street
Keeps searching to find her way
Every night she lies down to sleep
And prays tomorrow's a better day
She Walks
......by Jeffrey Carter
She walks along this lonely street
no one to dry her tears
massage her tired feet
or calm ever present fears
Seeing life through tainted heart
making everything gray
Alone, her life, anew to start
Always searching for a way
But life goes on no matter what
That fact she cannot quell
Memories ne'er to be forgot
Within her heart they dwell
So she keeps walking this lonely street
Keeps searching to find her way
Every night she lies down to sleep
And prays tomorrow's a better day
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Brush with "Babudom"
Since several years, almost as part of growing up, I had been hearing woes of people being made to dance from one corner of an office to another by our work-fearing, lazy, self-proclaimed gods, dispensers of the heavenly will, the "BABUS" in the government offices.
It had instilled in me a sort of babu-phobia :), though at the same time I used to think - can things be as bad as that TV soap "office office" depicts. I've never found that serial funny, it always makes me want to hit those stupid officers troubling the poor musaddilal no-end. I had always felt that serial was an extreme exaggeration of things as they stood.
But as fate would have it, I got my rude awakening call the day i had to get my address changed in my passport. The change was needed urgently as I had to travel and my visa couldnt be processed without that change.
Things seemed rosy on the first day. Everyone seemed co-operative (and believe me, some people really are). My application was accepted and I was called 5 days later to collect my passport.
I couldn't believe my luck !!! (and of-course my ears).
Trouble began on day 5.
We reached the office at the scheduled time of 4:30. there was no-one at the counter. 4:30 changed to 5 and 5 to 5:30. Still no one visible at the counter. The security guard offered an explanation - "sahib passports banwa rahe hain" (sir is getting the passports made). It almost sounded like if you go to the tailor to collect some stitched clothes, and he tells you that he is getting them ironed.
At 5:45 finally the "sahib" walked down the "royal path" carrying a bundle of guess how many "FOUR" passports (and there was a queue of at least 30 people waiting for their passports). Instead of calling out the numbers he had with him, each one of us 30 had to go to the window, state our application numbers, the babu then sifted through the 4 booklets he had (each time) and replied in a negative to everyone. COOL. So again the "babu" vanished into oblivion to "get the remaining passports" from his khazana (treasure).
At 6:10 I heard my name being called out (at least now he had resorted to calling out names !!! ), and ran to get my passport.
The first sound I heard was of the babu in his ugly voice yelling me to hurry up as it was time to close the window and he was making an immense obligation on each one of us by still standing there (ask him what time should the window have opened in the first place !!!)
Well, I decided to forgive and ignore him as I was getting my passport...and finally I had the booklet in my hands.
Now came the shock...I opened the booklet, only to realize that both my parents name had been mis-spelt.
We went inside the office and someone told us that all that was required was for Mr. xyz to write an observation on it and put his stamp. Thus began the search for Mr. xyz, and believe me it was no less than a treasure hunt. from one person to the other, from one floor to the other, from one room to the other, we spanned the passport office in search of the elusive xyz. But alas !!! He was nowhere to be found. Someone then told us to go talk to the person who had handed over the passport to me, so there it was that I went. And this was the moment of my true "brush with babudom". The guy just turned around, pushed the door, using the door pushed me out of the room, and latched the door from inside !!! I was fuming with anger and humiliation. A few minutes later he emerged out of his fort. I had an arguement with him and he had the guts to tell me that I was lying about his behaviour and I should keep in mind that "god is watching me". I could hardly believe my ears !!!!!!!!!!!!
What the heck was this? It wasnt my mistake that some illiterate or irresponsible idiot hadn't cared to type the names correctly on the passport.
That day we couldn't achieve anything, and were asked to come the next day. Well, let me not pull the story too long, as it will tend to get boring, but on the next day, after another round of treasure hunt, standing in queues for 2 hours, help from some co-operative un-babulike officers, and 2 visits to the passport office, I finally managed to get my corrected booklet. I shouldnt forget to thank Mr. XYZ because he was really very co-operative and helped me as much as he could
The episode set me thinking of our own response to such incidences. Have we become immune to it? Taken it as a way of life? Can't we protest? It is our country, isnt it? I may be sounding like rang de basanti, but isnt that true? Take my own case, after I got the passport I came back from the passport office, whereas what I wanted to do was complain about that abusive clerk. I had no time for doing that, coz I would have meant another round of treasure hunt and I had to get back to office. I think we have become too busy in our routines, and too "accepting" of such behaviour. Honestly speaking, I think it is these set of people at such offices, who spoil the image of the entire organization and in larger terms, of the entire nation. It is not that the entire organization is bad. after all, people there did understand my urgency, and did give me the passport in 5 days. And while we were hunting for the person who had to make the correction, an officer walked up to us, and after listening to our problem, he himself took us to 3 counters to try resolving our problem.
I guess, more than the babus, it is our own attitude that needs a correction. It truly is time for us to awaken....
It had instilled in me a sort of babu-phobia :), though at the same time I used to think - can things be as bad as that TV soap "office office" depicts. I've never found that serial funny, it always makes me want to hit those stupid officers troubling the poor musaddilal no-end. I had always felt that serial was an extreme exaggeration of things as they stood.
But as fate would have it, I got my rude awakening call the day i had to get my address changed in my passport. The change was needed urgently as I had to travel and my visa couldnt be processed without that change.
Things seemed rosy on the first day. Everyone seemed co-operative (and believe me, some people really are). My application was accepted and I was called 5 days later to collect my passport.
I couldn't believe my luck !!! (and of-course my ears).
Trouble began on day 5.
We reached the office at the scheduled time of 4:30. there was no-one at the counter. 4:30 changed to 5 and 5 to 5:30. Still no one visible at the counter. The security guard offered an explanation - "sahib passports banwa rahe hain" (sir is getting the passports made). It almost sounded like if you go to the tailor to collect some stitched clothes, and he tells you that he is getting them ironed.
At 5:45 finally the "sahib" walked down the "royal path" carrying a bundle of guess how many "FOUR" passports (and there was a queue of at least 30 people waiting for their passports). Instead of calling out the numbers he had with him, each one of us 30 had to go to the window, state our application numbers, the babu then sifted through the 4 booklets he had (each time) and replied in a negative to everyone. COOL. So again the "babu" vanished into oblivion to "get the remaining passports" from his khazana (treasure).
At 6:10 I heard my name being called out (at least now he had resorted to calling out names !!! ), and ran to get my passport.
The first sound I heard was of the babu in his ugly voice yelling me to hurry up as it was time to close the window and he was making an immense obligation on each one of us by still standing there (ask him what time should the window have opened in the first place !!!)
Well, I decided to forgive and ignore him as I was getting my passport...and finally I had the booklet in my hands.
Now came the shock...I opened the booklet, only to realize that both my parents name had been mis-spelt.
We went inside the office and someone told us that all that was required was for Mr. xyz to write an observation on it and put his stamp. Thus began the search for Mr. xyz, and believe me it was no less than a treasure hunt. from one person to the other, from one floor to the other, from one room to the other, we spanned the passport office in search of the elusive xyz. But alas !!! He was nowhere to be found. Someone then told us to go talk to the person who had handed over the passport to me, so there it was that I went. And this was the moment of my true "brush with babudom". The guy just turned around, pushed the door, using the door pushed me out of the room, and latched the door from inside !!! I was fuming with anger and humiliation. A few minutes later he emerged out of his fort. I had an arguement with him and he had the guts to tell me that I was lying about his behaviour and I should keep in mind that "god is watching me". I could hardly believe my ears !!!!!!!!!!!!
What the heck was this? It wasnt my mistake that some illiterate or irresponsible idiot hadn't cared to type the names correctly on the passport.
That day we couldn't achieve anything, and were asked to come the next day. Well, let me not pull the story too long, as it will tend to get boring, but on the next day, after another round of treasure hunt, standing in queues for 2 hours, help from some co-operative un-babulike officers, and 2 visits to the passport office, I finally managed to get my corrected booklet. I shouldnt forget to thank Mr. XYZ because he was really very co-operative and helped me as much as he could
The episode set me thinking of our own response to such incidences. Have we become immune to it? Taken it as a way of life? Can't we protest? It is our country, isnt it? I may be sounding like rang de basanti, but isnt that true? Take my own case, after I got the passport I came back from the passport office, whereas what I wanted to do was complain about that abusive clerk. I had no time for doing that, coz I would have meant another round of treasure hunt and I had to get back to office. I think we have become too busy in our routines, and too "accepting" of such behaviour. Honestly speaking, I think it is these set of people at such offices, who spoil the image of the entire organization and in larger terms, of the entire nation. It is not that the entire organization is bad. after all, people there did understand my urgency, and did give me the passport in 5 days. And while we were hunting for the person who had to make the correction, an officer walked up to us, and after listening to our problem, he himself took us to 3 counters to try resolving our problem.
I guess, more than the babus, it is our own attitude that needs a correction. It truly is time for us to awaken....
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Welcome to the world of "Plastic Money"
Well, 'life' (or should I say professional life) just taught me another lesson, and guess what.....the importance of credit cards !!!I might love looking at the latest cell phones, or digicams or whatever new technology brings to the door, but when it comes to money, let's say i've been very conservative about it. Some people (as I off-late realized) would consider adjectives like "orthdox" or "ancient" more fitting.
Well the story goes like this....I had to go to UK on a business trip, and got a mail from our travel desk asking for my credit card details (I was told they needed it for the hotel booking)I did the obvious thing - picked up the phone and called them to say I didnt have one. "You don't have a credit card !!! okay.......well.....you must be having a debit card ?????". Poor me again replied in negative. "Oh, you don't have any debit card or credit card whatsoever ??????" (it sounded more like saying don't tell me you don't brush your teeth in the morning :)) )
I suddenly felt I belonged to the neanderthal ages living in 21st century :(((
The hotel could not be booked without a card, so for the time being they accepted one of my family member's card number.
But I had to act fast to, sort of, upgrade myself to modern civilization standards.So there I was, actually hunting for an age old mail from citibank offering some bloody lifetime free card.I couldnt believe i was actually waiting for a call from one of those credit card guys, the same bunch of "morons" (that's the category i earlier put them in), whose calls I used to respond to like some unwanted intrusion in my life.
Anyways, I've now applied for a card and waiting for it to arrive and uplift me from my stone age status.
Congragulate me on entering the world of "plastic money" (though I'm still not sure i'll be confident of using the damn thing once I have it :)) ) !!!
Well the story goes like this....I had to go to UK on a business trip, and got a mail from our travel desk asking for my credit card details (I was told they needed it for the hotel booking)I did the obvious thing - picked up the phone and called them to say I didnt have one. "You don't have a credit card !!! okay.......well.....you must be having a debit card ?????". Poor me again replied in negative. "Oh, you don't have any debit card or credit card whatsoever ??????" (it sounded more like saying don't tell me you don't brush your teeth in the morning :)) )
I suddenly felt I belonged to the neanderthal ages living in 21st century :(((
The hotel could not be booked without a card, so for the time being they accepted one of my family member's card number.
But I had to act fast to, sort of, upgrade myself to modern civilization standards.So there I was, actually hunting for an age old mail from citibank offering some bloody lifetime free card.I couldnt believe i was actually waiting for a call from one of those credit card guys, the same bunch of "morons" (that's the category i earlier put them in), whose calls I used to respond to like some unwanted intrusion in my life.
Anyways, I've now applied for a card and waiting for it to arrive and uplift me from my stone age status.
Congragulate me on entering the world of "plastic money" (though I'm still not sure i'll be confident of using the damn thing once I have it :)) ) !!!
Monday, May 08, 2006
"New Joinee"
Ever felt the need to re-define/ re-construct ur identity ?
From scratch?
thats precisely what i am going thru at the moment, having switched over to a new organization.
new ppl. the search for friends amongnst unfamiliar new faces
search for recognition and for the fresh acknowledgement of one's ability
all this, and added to it the excitement to learn new things
well, a mixed feeling it sure is !!!
From scratch?
thats precisely what i am going thru at the moment, having switched over to a new organization.
new ppl. the search for friends amongnst unfamiliar new faces
search for recognition and for the fresh acknowledgement of one's ability
all this, and added to it the excitement to learn new things
well, a mixed feeling it sure is !!!
Monday, March 13, 2006
Contrasting moods
Today the weather outside is beautiful, or so they say
Perfect for romance :)
But one has to feel at peace to contemplate of any romance
I can closely relate to "seene mein jalan, aankhon mein toofan sa kyon hai...." today
Perfect for romance :)
But one has to feel at peace to contemplate of any romance
I can closely relate to "seene mein jalan, aankhon mein toofan sa kyon hai...." today
Holi ???
So, its holi time again...
Time for colours, gulaal, sweets, and celebration.......
And for me, a time that pushes me back to memories best buried away.
Day before holi was when I last saw dad. I remember focusing on his breathing, feeling/ knowing somewhere within my heart that it would probably be the last time I saw him so....
Wish I could have been wrong.....the call came in when 2 hours later when I was back at home (I escaped from the hospital coz intuition told me if I stayed I would have to face something I could never be prepared for)
Holi was the day they brought him from the hospital.
Everyone kept telling me I should go outside and see him one last time....I didnt budge. Maybe I acted like a coward....the reason I gave them was I didnt want to remember him that way.....
And................Holi was one of his favourite festivals
Time for colours, gulaal, sweets, and celebration.......
And for me, a time that pushes me back to memories best buried away.
Day before holi was when I last saw dad. I remember focusing on his breathing, feeling/ knowing somewhere within my heart that it would probably be the last time I saw him so....
Wish I could have been wrong.....the call came in when 2 hours later when I was back at home (I escaped from the hospital coz intuition told me if I stayed I would have to face something I could never be prepared for)
Holi was the day they brought him from the hospital.
Everyone kept telling me I should go outside and see him one last time....I didnt budge. Maybe I acted like a coward....the reason I gave them was I didnt want to remember him that way.....
And................Holi was one of his favourite festivals
Na jaane kyun
Somehow, I am reminded of this song today
Na jaane kyun, hota hai yoon zindagi ke saath
achanak ye mann, kisi ke jaane ke baad
kare fir uski yaad, chhoti chhoti si baat
na jaane kyun.......
Na jaane kyun, hota hai yoon zindagi ke saath
achanak ye mann, kisi ke jaane ke baad
kare fir uski yaad, chhoti chhoti si baat
na jaane kyun.......
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Papa....
I'm missing papa today (not that I don't think of him almost everyday...)
but on some days I want nothing more than to simply keep my head in his lap and cry to my heart's content
but on some days I want nothing more than to simply keep my head in his lap and cry to my heart's content
Sometimes...
Sometimes life seems so meaningless........
Why is one existing? For what? Doing what?................
Cornered by circumstances on all side, and unable to gather the guts to put your foot down........
Why is one existing? For what? Doing what?................
Cornered by circumstances on all side, and unable to gather the guts to put your foot down........
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