Judgement !!!

Last Friday, something weird happened at the office. As I entered the lift to reach my floor, I was followed by a very obese guy. He must weigh around 100 kilos. And on top of that , his height was around 5'8" ... So, all in all he looked FAT. As he stepped in the elevator after me, the sweet recorded voice of some girl spoke, "Overload; someone please step out"
Now if the last person had been an average weighing guy, it would have been no issue. However, as that FAT guy stepped out, a roar of laughter echoed through the lift...
I can't forget the look in his eyes as the sliding lift doors closed.
It was as if he was pleading, "Dudes, I don't like being like this. At least show me the courtesy you would show to a fellow human being."
As I walked to my seat, I realised that he must have some hormonal imbalance issues, else it is hard to get so big purely on diet basis.
And there came the sudden rush of shame and guilt, coz I realised I was the among the ones who had laughed my ass out down there...
Hope I learn from this and never be this indecent again in future. It hurts when someone judges you based on your appearance, without knowing you...

Alive !!!

I was watching the movie "The Doors" yesterday. There's a scene where Val Kilmer (who portrays Jim Morrisson), drunk and high on Acid, stands on top of the car in the middle of a traffic jam and shouts, "All those out there who are alive raise their hands". Maybe JIM had a rare lucid moment in his madness.
Now, a drunken poetic baffoon delivering his line backed by Ray Manzarek's piano in the background takes you deep into yourself.
What kind of life do you want? Do you want it to be one on which a movie can be based, or a regular one. Do you want to change the world, or be a regular part of the changing world? Have you decided?Don't know? Judge by this. A real decision is measured by the fact that you've taken a new action. If there's no action, you haven't truly decided.
The state of our lives is nothing more than a reflection of the state of our mind. There's this cliche line I've read/heard so many times: Living is not the same as not dying.
Is there something missing? Emptiness is a symptom implying you are not living creatively. Do you have a goal? You either have no goal that is important enough to you, or you are not using your talents and efforts in a striving toward an important goal, or you are wasting your effort by striving in the wrong direction.
What we love we shall grow to resemble.
All we need to be clear about is what we want. How will we get it, when will we get it, what price will we have to pay for that? Will the thing really matter to us as and when we get it?If we bind ourselves with these doubts, we have no hope.

And that is one thing nobody can afford to loose... HOPE.

A CRUDE Reality...

Oil Prices at 135$ per Barrel. BPLC ready to ration fuel supply to it's retail outlets. Others likely to follow suit.
So dear fellow citizens, it's a distinct possibility now that you may drive your car to a nearby Gas station and see a signboard saying "Sorry, out of Gas".
That's precisely what happens to economies when crude prices surge... They run out of Gas.
Is it temporary? Nooooooooo...
Of course, maybe Nigerian trouble will get sorted; maybe Venezuela’s socialist liberator, Hugo Chávez will let Oil flow freely from the nationalized fields; maybe Putin's Gas Cartel materializes and Gas will take some burden off Gasoline; maybe "Evil Iran" will let pipelies to be laid; Maybe we'll all give up eating "Bhuttas" and "American Corns" and burn the ethanol produced by them instead; maybe Jatropha plant will rescue us; maybe KG basin...
Maybe, maybe, maybe...
Common, whom are we kidding? There are these two rising nations that are hogging oil just like anything, u know India and China.And 10 years from now, we'll have quite a lot of Africa and Latin America demanding their pound of flesh as well..
Saudi Reserves are headed downhill... So are from Mexican Gulf. So are from Texas.. The more is extracted now, the lesser overall recovery becomes. And African reserves are always bound to be affected by Geo-Politic; that translates to Uncertainity, irrespictive of prospective supply potential.
In short, nothing will keep oil prices down. Neither newer technologies, nor billions of dollars of investments, nor new geopolitical equations. Goldman Sacchs said oil can touch $200 per barrel. And worse, it'll stay there.
Then there's the hope of alternate technologies. Solar, Wind, Tidal, BioGas, BioFuel. Yeah, they're there, but realistically speaking, they demand too much time and resources and ROI is spread over a long long period of time. Also, they'll become sitting ducks withot government subsidies.
So what's the way out?
A PARADIGM SHIFT IN OUR LIFESTYLES.
That is the only way out. The only way out.
I read about some marketing survey long time back, probably done in UK. It said that people use vehicles and go out for four primary reasons:
1. to work

2. to Eat Out

3. to get entertained

4. to socialize

Future towns to be developed should have units consisting of these four parts, so that by default the distances reduce. Another option is clean, comfortable mass transport system.Further, India would do well to have bullet trains that run on electricity and cruise at 400+ kmph. They'll make air travel irrelevant in most cases .... Just think, overnight journey from Jammu to Kanyakumari... And with these crude prices, Low cost carriers will become history.

But these are all long term... what can be done now? I guess these options below look feasible:

1. Better roads:

According to the CIA World Factbook, India has 3.3 million kilometers of roads; the largest road network in the world (both paved and unpaved roads). Investment to make all these roads world class hovers around 3.5 lakh crores. India’s oil Pool deficit is Rs 80,000 crore annually. 3.5 lakh crores will be recovered in absolute terms in 6 years time, just because of better vehicle efficiency. This, keeping aside other abstract gains, like the spurt in demand for industries which supply raw material for road making, better purchasing power of millions because of the huge employment generation and the boost in economic activity owing to better connectivity.
2. Encourage use of waterways:

Transport through water has only one drawback. TIME. But fuel consumption in water transport is so miniscule compared to Surface / Air, that this has to be an option. Cost involved includes making and maintaining docks, and increased vigilance across water routes to check. This is less investment, and again, lots of job creation for unskilled sector.
The results of above two will be felt within 5 years. All that is needed is Political will. India is NOT short of funds. India is NOT short of Talent.

Let's face it. We cannot do without oil, it's just not possible. Oil does not mean only Diesel and Petrol. Crude gives soooo many petroleum products that are vital for industries like automobile, personal care products, construction material, petrochemical products, crucial medicine ingrediants... even the KG Basin Gas and a potential 1-2-3 agreement cannot help us stem this crisis.
Let us keep oil for the vital needs, and personal vehicles for infrequent use...
We have a collective responsibility of 1.1 billion people as a Nation. Nobody can shrug it off. NOBODY.

NICE GUY - WISE GUY

This is my first attempt at a short story. Everything is fictitious.

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Shishir Mehra lay limp, motionless. He had been so for a long time now. 8 months back, his 43 year old body had collapsed as he protested alongside others to save a park in the middle of Mumbai.He was in a coma for a week. Then, his mind woke up from it's slumber, but not fully. He had been paralyzed. He could only sense his body neck above, and with difficulty could move his left hand. His meager insurance ensured him a bed in a self help hospital wing. He had a bed by the side of a window. Sun shone on him every morning and presented him another day's time to kill. Nurse came and fed him, washed him, changed the clothes and bed sheets and went away. He tried talking to them, but soon realized that paralysis patients are treated as a nuisance. They don't get better, and they don't die soon. He had a family, but only for the sake of it. His parents had passed away few years back, both in their 80s. He was the youngest sibling among five. They had all been distanced from him, by circumstances, by time, by luck; in retrospect, by him. His wife divorced him pretty early, ostensibly because he was a bad parent, actually because he wasn't normal, had weird ideals, and had no ambitions... His son barely knew him. That kid never had a chance, as the “new dad” had lots and lots of money to buy good lawyers and buy new toys. Getting paralyzed is weird. You don't have a disease that damages your body, so you aren't actually dying. There's a fool's hope of getting better. You become completely dependent on others for everything. You can't move, and so, you want to talk. He had nobody to talk to.He tried reading, but it made his head hurt like hell. Noise made his head hurt. So no TV; No Songs. Consequently, he often got lost deep into his thoughts. Eventually, he began pondering over the questions he had been asked all his life... by well wishers, by not-so-well wishers, by family, by friends, by pseudo-friends.... why was he like this ? He was always so full of energy, so purposeful that he never had time to think over such things. It's bizarre thinking about your past life. One thought leads to another, which leads to many others, and each of them to many more. Within minutes the mind is a swamp, where images and thoughts criss-cross with lightening speed, until you get sick of it and let it go. But with only your head lolling around all day, you hardly have other options. He had always been a nice guy. A guy everyone liked. He was the apple of everyone's eyes. The most obedient and friendly boy in the neighborhood. He shared his Tiffin and toys with others. He gave his seat to others in the bus. He did small chores if any neighbor asked for. And he grew up exactly like that. He listened to everybody. He compromised with everyone. He always adjusted first, and the most. He never had a quarrel or a fight, because he let go and surrendered in hope of everlasting peace and harmony. He wanted peace of mind, and that is what eluded him most, as long as he lived. He never left anyone behind. He believed in consensus. He was gentle, caring, thoughtful and persuasive. His generosity was taken by all as his stupidity. His lack of will to stand and fight for his cause as his vulnerability. He wasn't dumb. He knew and understood everything. He knew what others were like. He knew what motivated them. He knew most around him better than they knew themselves. Yet he never took advantage of them. Never did he undermine them, or insult them, or stab them in the back. He always accommodated them. He persevered to make them all nice and happy. He sacrificed his own interests. Worst, he sacrificed his dignity. At some point, every nice guy realizes it... Nice guys finish last. Nobody gives a shit if you are nice. You are out of the frame as soon as you are out of sight. Period. He realized it as the enormity of his paralysis stroke began to dawn on him. He had never wronged anyone in his life. He had lived a pure life. He had actively worked for public causes. He never wronged anyone for his own beterment. He always let others have everything if it made them happy. What was his fault, that he had been reduced to this, and that people didn't care now that he lay there? Is it wrong to have ambitions that don't concern yourself? He always believed that he had been brought in this world for a greater cause, that he needed to think above personal interest and work for the society. God damn it! He was brilliant, wise and could have become the king of the world had he fought for himself and played by societies rules. What’s the point ??? Huh, what is the bloody point of all this? What did his life count for? All he needed now was some respect, some appreciation, some grateful acknowledgement... where were all of them, those nameless faces... for whom he had fought. Why didn't he feel good within, now as he was about to pass... why...Everything you do; everything you hear, every desire, every fear...Disgusting. Useless. Numb. He'd had enough. And so he was doing this. This was easy. He felt no pain. The paralyzed right hand wrist meant blood oozed out freely and he didn't feel a thing. Darkness took him slowly. And it was all over...

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Vivek Roy lay limp, motionless. He had been so for a long time now. 8 months back, his 43 year old body had collapsed as argued his division's case in front of the board of directors. He was in a coma for a week. Then, his mind woke up from its slumber, but not fully. He had been paralyzed. He could only sense his body neck above, and with difficulty could move his left hand. Being CFO of large Investment Bank's Indian operation meant he had no dearth of money. He had this private room here, with a lounge and a garden view from the porch. He had a complete support staff, and a team of high profile doctors. Sun shone on him every morning and presented him another day's time to kill. Nurse came and fed him, washed him, changed the clothes and bed sheets and went away. Even the bed sheets were louis vuitton. He tried talking to them, but soon realized it didn't matter. They talked only because he paid them well. He understood that paralysis patients are treated as a nuisance. They don't get better, and they don't die soon. But this thing worked out fine for these doctors and nurses. He had a family, but only for the sake of it. His parents had passed away when he was very young. He was the eldest sibling among five. He was brought up by his uncle, who made sure to taunt him at every juncture how he and his siblings were a huge huge burden. He did the chores during the day, and studied hard at night. He even mad each of his siblings study hard. He taught them the importance of having control, of slicing the largest portion of the pie, of not having to depend on anyone; by hook or by crook. They learned fast. Now they had all been distanced from him, by circumstances, by time, by luck; in retrospect, by him. His wife divorced him pretty early, ostensibly because he had an affair (which was true), actually because she was interested in his money, not him... His son barely knew him. That kid never had a chance, as the Court ruled that he was a bad influence as a parent, and even he didn't have time for the kid. Getting paralyzed is weird. You don't have a disease that damages your body, so you aren't actually dying. There's a fool's hope of getting better. You become completely dependent on others for everything. That is exactly he had been working all his life to prevent. Talking to nurses and doctors was irritating. He was tired of their fake smiles and plastic expressions. He tried reading, but it made his head hurt like hell. No Financial Times. No Wall Street journal. Even noise made his head hurt. So no TV; No News. Consequently, he often got lost deep into his thoughts. Eventually, he began pondering over the questions he had been asked all his life... by well wishers, by not-so-well wishers, by family, by friends, by pseudo-friends.... why was he like this ? He was always so full of energy, so purposeful that he never had time to think over such things. It's bizarre thinking about your past life. One thought leads to another, which leads to many others, and each of them to many more. Within minutes the mind is a swamp, where images and thoughts criss-cross with lightening speed, until you get sick of it and let it go. But with only your head lolling around all day, you hardly have other options. He had always been a wise guy. A guy everyone disliked, but couldn't do without. He was the stone in everyone's shoes, but nobody could afford to remove him. He had been viciously ambitious since always. He never shared; he always traded. Make an investment here, get barter there. That was his way of dealing with life. He wanted to provide himself with everything he hoped for. And he grew up exactly like that.He listened to everybody. He calculated all his moves. He compromised with nobody. He never adjusted. He never had a quarrel or a fight, as he never let things come to that. Pieces just fell in place for him as he planned, because he knew how to get under the skin of the people. He never wanted peace of mind, and it never eluded him. All he needed was a purpose to reach where he wanted to. He never carried dead weight. He thrashed all that stood in way. He made no bones about his ambition. He stepped over others. He lied, he cheated, he gained trust, and then backstabbed; and he rose. He converted his will into consensus. He was vicious, cruel, and fast.He fought like an animal. People said he would have been a great lawyer. But he knew that the true victories won by verbal battles belong to the corporate boardrooms, not in courts. He knew and understood everything. He knew what others were like. He knew what motivated them. He knew what they feared. He knew most around him better than they knew themselves. He always took advantage of them; undermined them, or insulted them; stab them in the back. He sacrificed his dignity. He sacrificed his ideals. But he gained more power.At some point, every wise guy realizes it... Nice guys finish last. Nobody gives a shit if you are nice. You are out of the frame as soon as you are out of sight. Period. He was born with that knowledge.But he also realized something as the enormity of his paralysis stroke began to dawn on him. Control through power lasts as long as you have the power. You are nothing, your standing is everything. You don't control the reigns, your position controls it. You don't matter, your money mattered/k. He wronged everyone in his life he had to. He had lived an impure life. He made other's lives a living hell to improve his marginally. What was his fault, that he had been reduced to this, and that people didn't care now that he lay there? Is it wrong to have ambitions that concern yourself? He always believed that he had been brought in this world for winning; that he needed to think only about personal interest above all. God damn it! He was brilliant, wise and could had become the king of his world... Then why was he seeing life as hapless as he was now? What’s the point??? Huh, what is the bloody point of all this? What did his life count for? That cash in his account, his portfolio, his empty penthouse in New York, London, Hong Kong and Singapore... All he needed now was some respect, some appreciation, some grateful acknowledgement, some moral support... Why didn't he feel good within, now as he was about to pass... why... Everything you do, everything you hear, every desire, every fear... After winning all way long, why do you end up loosing...Frustrating. Useless. Numb. He'd had enough. He had been so focused and sure all his life. He had to end it on his own terms. He was filled with hatred. He had made arrangements to destroy his wealth completely without benefiting anyone else. And so he was doing this. This was easy. He felt no pain. The right hand wrist meant blood oozed out freely and he didn't feel a thing. Darkness took him slowly. And it was all over...

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Problems !!! Doubts !!!

You wake up in the morning. Blurry vision slowly clears up as the eye adjusts to the light. You Strech. Senses become alert again.
Now, what's the first thought that comes to the mind, huh?

Wish I could have slept more.
Shit, another day.
Wow, it's a new day.

If you haven't thought about it ever, give it a thought, because this will give you a peep into how you actually feel about being alive. If you sit up sometime and consciously introspect, the mind will soon get cluttered, and the possibility of an answer will vanish.

We all have problems. They can be solved, either by hard work or by a stroke of luck. But the real trouble begins when you begin to have doubts. Yes, DOUBTS.

There, I don't know what to do with them. Doubts cannot be solved by LOGIC, never. They aren't like a math problem, where 2 + 2 equals 4.

I dont know from where doubts arise, no idea. Maybe it has to do something with the state of a person's self confidence. Maybe it stems from the realisation of the failures of the past. Maybe it mirrors the horrors of one's life, the stuff buried in the closet, which nobody knows, stuff even the person pretends never happened. These give rise to anxieties, insecurities.
That is the trouble. How can you tackle a problem when you don't understand how it originates!

Should I radically change everything? What if my best if not enough?

Only time will tell. Maybe the doubts will clear as I begin to understand their root. I hope they clear. After all, hope is dangerous, but it's a good thing. Maybe when I loose all hope, I'll find clarity and freedom.

A trip to Gurgaon...

THIS BLOG IS NOT MEANT TO BE UNDERSTOOD BY EVERYONE. STILL, YOU MAY READ IT AT YOUR OWN RISKS.

Life is busy. Too busy in fact. You go through the motions every day, until one day, you realize that you need a break. Leisure time is a privilege in today’s Dog-Eat-Dog world, and once you get it, you must ensure that it is well spent, so as to leave a pleasant mark on your memory, something which makes you smile when you recall it in times to come.

So, when I got a week long break from office, I wanted to make this time count for more. Being so far away from family isn’t easy, but it’s been more than six years on the trot for me now. First college, and now job. I reckon it was easier at college. I found a second family there, guys who were just as confused, as determined, as carefree, as passionate, and as ambitious as I was. Life was full of fun, endless discussions about future, full of dreams and delusions. It’s not the same with job. Yeah, two things make a world of difference: having money, and no Classes/Assignments/Professors. But there is no time. And there is something else as well, which not all of my friends will understand: being forced to start off from scratch with friendships, in a totally new city, with totally new responsibilities. With all these thoughts gripping my mind, I decided it was time to catch up with some of the college mates.

To cut a long story short, I juggled around with schedule, geographical location and closest friends, and Landed at the New Delhi Railway station on 1st Feb, 2008. Coming from Kolkata, where winter is an illusion, I landed in a city accustomed to chilly weather, on a day the Met Dept predicted to be the coldest in 72 years! I got the dose as I stepped out of the cozy Rajdhani AC coach onto the platform, with just a pullover between my skin and bone chilling wind outside (Now I understand how Harry feels near Dementors).

I made it to Dhaula Kua, where my dear friend A made me wait well over 50 minutes in front of the HP petrol pump, with no shade, no place to sit, and nothing to eat or drink. As he stepped out of B’s Hyundai Getz, his appearance knocked me off: He was wearing Specks, and his hairline had receded beyond redemption.

I came back to senses as he called out, “Aur Bhale, Bhoffa……”We drove to the ominous apartment, where power cuts had wrecked havoc in the lives of my dear friends. I had started to get out of touch with the India of Power Cuts, living in Salt Lake - Kolkata for 18 months now… exactly as I had forgotten about the winter season…

Next I saw TCS Gurgaon office. Nothing different from the Cognizant Kolkata office… except that the number of cars is far greater at Gurgaon. There I met B. Oh my Goodness, not a single bit of change in this guy, only the intensity of his manhoosiyat had increased many-fold. That look on his face, of being out of place all the time, of having the knowledge of being screwed at every possible juncture in life, the desperation, the depression, the frustration… and Hope, that the law of averages will somehow balance out. I also met C, who is now moving to Verizon, Hyderabad. Had lunch with A and C, as B had to WORK. Now, B working is a good enough joke in itself to sustain laughter for a decent duration of time. Anyway, it just felt like old days, talking to buddies who knew me, inside out… I ended up having a fine beer, Carlsberg, before making it back home.That evening, B pushed us to go to “Ministry of Sound”, 4 guys with a pass for 2… And the lack of passes can be attributed to the jerk that A is, fucking asshole, couldn’t take another Jack Daniel to get another pass… and that too when it was free. Finally, as we stepped out of the house, I met D. Dear old D, the same guy, albeit looked better getting off the Ford Icon. It was difficult to digest that the hardest working guy in the trio was the one who wouldn’t get out of bed even for lunch in college. Oh dear, the colors that life shows us…

Anyway, the evening sucked all-in-all, partly due to Delhi-NCR Traffic, and partly due to the fact that we missed some awesome LIVE Rock. We ended up at CRIMZON, where I had my first taste of J and B Rare… We dined, and whined, of all the things that we could think of… The kind of conversation that goes off well with Booze; question s whose answer should not be 42. I don’t know why, but everyone kept asking me why I had gone so quiet. I can’t rubbish what they say, coz they’ve seen enough of me to spot the difference. Just hope that they were NOT serious.

So, the evening wound up quite nicely, considering the disastrous start we had. We picked up a few more beers as we went back… Saw The Devil Wears Prada (again), and eventually slept, all curled up nearby…The Next morning, I woke up before all, checked mail, had tea and breakfast (made by Champu). Both A and D had to go to office, so, it was just me and B. We went out, had breakfast, picked up newspapers… and came back. Delhi Times had vindicated B’s stand, by mentioning the Ministry of Sound show on front page.

Blissfully, there was current at home, and we made the most of it, listening to Rock N Roll; another couple of Fosters disappeared. Eric Prydz: Proper education was played again and again. We laughed, pondered, worried, and ultimately dismissed our troubles, as we talked, and talked, and talked…It was Saturday, and I recommended American Gangster…

Now, these jerks had put off shifting their house till I came. So we rushed to meet the owner, signed the lease papers and all, checked out the new flat (big enough to sustain three Live-In relationships)

And then it happened: a phone conversation between B and E changed everything. Now, I’d heard of E before, and it turned out it would be just me and A at PVR… But fate had something else in store, and the evening turned out to be the best of the trip. As the events rapidly unfolded that evening, I wasn’t happy at all. B went out of the scene all of a sudden, and I thought, “It’s OK, let the frustoo have a go at the chance.” But as I found myself being wound up in the plan, for apparently no reason, I began pondering what was going through the mind of this idiot… was it going to be another evening of my so eagerly planned trip, that wouldn’t go as well as expected? The journey wasn't easy... Again stuck at a damn petrol pump, two days in a row… I even got soaked in rain, with A, waiting for the Radio cab... But it all fell in place eventually, and to miraculous perfection. D joined us midway, and we ended up meeting B, chatting with E (and F) at a CCD in Connaught Place. From there, we went to a place called Blues. Now before we entered, we had literally walked the whole bloody outer circle of CP, and I realized how hard it is to walk with girls. (They're too slow) But now the ordeal was over, and good times were about to start.

At BLUES: The experience was Magical. More booze, Rock n Roll, Good crowd, it all seemed too good to be true. Have you ever felt you were living a dream? If you can recall that, then perhaps you’ll understand what I mean. It felt like time had stopped, and I soaked every ounce of it. I don’t even remember B taking off to drop E (and F) back home, until we came out. The nearest experience I’ve had to it is from Some Place Else, Calcutta. Don’t know why it felt superior at Blues: was it the company, or the dull time that preceded it, or the fact that I was seeing for the first time my friends behaving like civilized gentlemen in front of girls.… I don’t have a damn clue, and I don’t care. It was good to be there. Wish I could write more about it… But it won’t be appropriate. Anyway, basically I'll go back there again and again...

So, as we returned home, happy and content, more booze followed, and some serious talk. The next morning was effectively dull. D took off to Jaipur pretty early, and I felt weird saying Goodbye to him. A, B and me had breakfast at Haldiram’s. Then Doordarshan followed. Yeah, shifting into a new house isn’t as easy as it sounds, and we found it out. By the time we finished, it was late afternoon, and we were exhausted. A movie seemed a good idea, consequently American Gangster happened, and I got my first taste of PVR. (Surprisingly, I’ve always somehow been to INOX, FAME and ADLABS, not PVR). Gem of a movie, time well spent. It was followed by a nice, old fashioned, greasy heavy dinner at Minar (again CP), and then the walk to the Railway Station.Goodbyes were said, and we parted.

I forgot my jacket behind… but it wasn’t until I slept in that AC coach that it dawned on me: When will I see them again?

Time had flown silently. What would I remember of this weekend in years to come? The appearance of A, the freaking cold weather, or D pleading to B to treat his Ford Icon with some respect, or the line by E, “I remember D, he checked my Orkut profile”, or the SMS that A received, ”Tussi jaa rahe ho, tussi na jao..”, or that I so narrowly missed taking a bath so many times, or that they kept picking on me saying “Why had I gone so quiet”, or the song “sabse peechhe ham khade…”

I guess only time will tell. The pic at the very start is a blog in itself, but some wise guy said "A picture is worth a thousand words", so that will be all. I deliberately wrote this blog after a few days, so that I would write about only the important moments, hoping the not-so-important memories will fade out. And it’s ironic how vividly I remember each and everything. So much so, that I ended up writing a fully fledged memoir of my trip, resulting in an insanely long blog. Maybe I’ll realize in due course of time why these memories stuck in my mind. Thanks guys, A, B, Dfor making that weekend worth recalling for the rest of my life. And thank you for bearing with me and reading this long long long account…

There's always tomorrow

It happens sometimes. The simplest of experiences make your mind swirl with things totally alien to the situation. That day was no different. The sun rose in the east, Team India lost another match. I was driving at a leisure speed, good old rock music blaring from the speakers of my car. I laid back on the seat, the left hand dangling down lifelessly, the right one barely hung on the driving wheel. It was a real nice road, with tall shady trees on both sides, and a lake on my left, with the golden rays from the Sun piercing the leaves and shining on me.

I just looked down by the side, at the ground below. It went under the wheels so quickly. I don’t know how long I watched the ground, rolling under the wheels. Sounds mundane? Well, didn't feel so at all. It felt strangely serene.

Then I slowly came out of my trance. I looked around and realized I'd covered up quite some distance.And then it hit me. The painful analogy. I live every day, looking at things around me as I looked at the ground below while driving. Everything seems regular and nice and settled. Life is more or less peaceful. But then something always comes along, and breaks that trance.And it ain't a good feeling at all.

Suddenly I realize how far I've come. How much time has passed... How much is still left to be done. I've got to keep the promises I made to myself, to my family, my friends... I dreamed of a perfect life, and I’m nowhere close to living it. It hurts. And eventually, the feeling of being lost somewhere takes over. I moan, I despise, I introspect, and I may even indulge in self pity. I dwell on all the wrong decisions I took, on every opportunity lost, on every instant I held back because of fear or laziness. I feel how I’ve let everybody down, including me. I curse myself, convinced that there can be no tomorrow for me.

Then the sun goes down, and I fall in my bed, trying to sleep, but scared, of all the things, things I don't even know.And then sleep takes over. I can't say whether I squirm in my sleep over it, but the agony ends there.

The next morning is again a Good morning. I return back to my trance. And life is back on track again. Sounds familiar to you? If yes, then I'm afraid I've broken your trance. But don't worry, as tomorrow will be a new day.