The past three months have been quite graceful. I have been away, doing my own jazz. While, undergoing a lot of blissful, slow, winter deep moments, I have realized something about Time.
I always used to fret over the fact that there is not much time to do anything. Well, yes Mr. Etherman has prooved that wrong. Like the great master mind of space and time has prooved that time simply is a relative concept. Huh? What does that mean Brain?
Well, Pinky, Time will always be relative to how you feel. Simply put, if you are feeling like crap, time passes excruciatingly, slowly as it tommorow may never ever come. But if you are having a field day, it passes as if you never had it!!! Well, that may not be fair, but none the less is the story of everybody's life.
What can you then do about it?
Well, There's not much you can do, but simply let it be and let yourself go....trust me it works wonder!
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
A Teaser!
The innumerable wonders, among the many blunders. The already had it, blown it. The nothing to everything slot machines. The make it or break it dice rolls. The do or die roulette. Lucks parody. The Gambling Beat.
Vegas strip, Atlantic City and Life, all synonymous terms for the Great Gamble. Luck, struggle, bets, loan sharks, jackpots all variables; what makes you gamble? Its 3 a.m., I am sitting across the black jack table in one the biggest casinos on the strip. I am about to hit. The only thing I own, the only money I have, worthless green, sits on the table, in the form of chips, placed on high, the bet. There’s smoke in my face, as sweat rolls off my forehead.
The dealer across the table waiting for the words, knowing very well the house has won. Odds are against me, they are always against me. He grins.
“Hit” – I say. I have lost. There’s a smile on my face, wonder why? Maybe I knew. I borrow a cigarette from the valet and leave.
Why is it, what is it that makes me lose everything I have, why is that the crowds never learn? I am still smiling. I haven’t given up yet. I am a risky man, that inflates my ego to heights that no casino has ever reached, or a dealer has ever seen.
I head for my apartment, knowing very well that I am going to be back again. Where will I get the money from? The formidable question keeps nagging in my head. I already owe my life, worthless as it is, to three loan sharks, who, if not already, will want me dead as soon as the sun rises. That inflates my ego even more, I am a risky man. I smile.
I reach my apartment. The door is ajar. I enter.
He just shot me. My red blood is oozing out of my chest. He is gone. I have lost. This inflates my ego even higher. Why is it that you gamble?
Life’s parody.
Vegas strip, Atlantic City and Life, all synonymous terms for the Great Gamble. Luck, struggle, bets, loan sharks, jackpots all variables; what makes you gamble? Its 3 a.m., I am sitting across the black jack table in one the biggest casinos on the strip. I am about to hit. The only thing I own, the only money I have, worthless green, sits on the table, in the form of chips, placed on high, the bet. There’s smoke in my face, as sweat rolls off my forehead.
The dealer across the table waiting for the words, knowing very well the house has won. Odds are against me, they are always against me. He grins.
“Hit” – I say. I have lost. There’s a smile on my face, wonder why? Maybe I knew. I borrow a cigarette from the valet and leave.
Why is it, what is it that makes me lose everything I have, why is that the crowds never learn? I am still smiling. I haven’t given up yet. I am a risky man, that inflates my ego to heights that no casino has ever reached, or a dealer has ever seen.
I head for my apartment, knowing very well that I am going to be back again. Where will I get the money from? The formidable question keeps nagging in my head. I already owe my life, worthless as it is, to three loan sharks, who, if not already, will want me dead as soon as the sun rises. That inflates my ego even more, I am a risky man. I smile.
I reach my apartment. The door is ajar. I enter.
He just shot me. My red blood is oozing out of my chest. He is gone. I have lost. This inflates my ego even higher. Why is it that you gamble?
Life’s parody.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Automatic Doors
So sterling opened up again. Much has changed, but mostly, nostalgically, something’s do remain the same, thanks to the ether man or the owner, how you perceive it. A few posts are ago, I mentioned how Mumbai never had the charm of Bombay, it seems, speaking of the ether man, he does exist.
I was yeh-small, I was 7, and the first movie I ever watched in sterling was ‘Home Alone’, ironically, with the entire lot of my family. I was thrilled. I still distinctly remember the whole movie experience. I was sitting in one of the top most rows, had clear field vision of the wide screen, and was enjoying watching Macaulay Culkin doing his thing. It was the first time the entire family had gone for a movie together, normally those selfish bastards used to leave us kids alone, and I would be on the receiving end, getting myself beaten up by my elder cousin, who I used to run behind with a bamboo in my hand and used to hit her (at this point I’d like to say, Kids do not try this at home, parents do not take this lightly and this will probably get you inside a can of whole new worms, trust me on this one), on the beck and call of my elder brother, sibling politics and rivalry at its best, but who is complaining we got to go for the movie next time around, surely they dint feel like leaving us all alone again, the bamboo stick had disappeared but there were brooms around the house. Deviant aren’t I? While watching this movie I felt something, some kind of a connection with the theatre I was watching it in (psychoanalysts and shrinks please excuse). Minute by minute, I was falling in love with the place. Minute by minute it was becoming home to me. The movie sure got over, but the feeling never went away, still feel the same about sterling. That’s what this theatre is all about, experiencing the feeling, the feeling of being at home, it engulfs you. I practically grew up in sterling, watched hundreds of movies, some with family most with friends. Crisis management days, I used to step in my office, steps of this wonderful theatre, and brood over solutions. Spent my puberty there, almost lost my virginity there. :D
Well, what is really changed is, its got 2 brand new screens as an addition to an already present one. Screen two is the most funniest, it is like a space ship. If you guys haven’t experienced sterling yet, get up, and experience the old Bombay charm. If you are from the over and the there and the that side of the border(s), whenever in town, do visit sterling. It’s worth it. It’s a monument reminding you of an era gone by.
PS: It's got new automatic doors, that open if you just stand anywhere close to the door, the best part is, stand below the door for a few minutes and dry off the heat.
I was yeh-small, I was 7, and the first movie I ever watched in sterling was ‘Home Alone’, ironically, with the entire lot of my family. I was thrilled. I still distinctly remember the whole movie experience. I was sitting in one of the top most rows, had clear field vision of the wide screen, and was enjoying watching Macaulay Culkin doing his thing. It was the first time the entire family had gone for a movie together, normally those selfish bastards used to leave us kids alone, and I would be on the receiving end, getting myself beaten up by my elder cousin, who I used to run behind with a bamboo in my hand and used to hit her (at this point I’d like to say, Kids do not try this at home, parents do not take this lightly and this will probably get you inside a can of whole new worms, trust me on this one), on the beck and call of my elder brother, sibling politics and rivalry at its best, but who is complaining we got to go for the movie next time around, surely they dint feel like leaving us all alone again, the bamboo stick had disappeared but there were brooms around the house. Deviant aren’t I? While watching this movie I felt something, some kind of a connection with the theatre I was watching it in (psychoanalysts and shrinks please excuse). Minute by minute, I was falling in love with the place. Minute by minute it was becoming home to me. The movie sure got over, but the feeling never went away, still feel the same about sterling. That’s what this theatre is all about, experiencing the feeling, the feeling of being at home, it engulfs you. I practically grew up in sterling, watched hundreds of movies, some with family most with friends. Crisis management days, I used to step in my office, steps of this wonderful theatre, and brood over solutions. Spent my puberty there, almost lost my virginity there. :D
Well, what is really changed is, its got 2 brand new screens as an addition to an already present one. Screen two is the most funniest, it is like a space ship. If you guys haven’t experienced sterling yet, get up, and experience the old Bombay charm. If you are from the over and the there and the that side of the border(s), whenever in town, do visit sterling. It’s worth it. It’s a monument reminding you of an era gone by.
PS: It's got new automatic doors, that open if you just stand anywhere close to the door, the best part is, stand below the door for a few minutes and dry off the heat.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Quitting the haze!
There are five people sitting across me. Four of them holding their thinking sticks and smoking them. They are the decision makers and the power players; at the least they are trying to be or becoming to be. I on the other hand am quiet and taking it all in; all their talks, their fibs, their jokes, their questioning stares and their much wanted unwanted smoke coming out of their mouths. There’s a golden, circular ashtray kept on the table and stubbed cigarette butts lying around the periphery like used up whores who provide cheaper thrills for 4 minutes of their unwanted circumstantial lives.
Any of them, on failing to stub and put out their cigarettes dead, the smoke still emanating from the thrown cigarette, hits my nose. My blood goes in overdrive, my brain refuses to listen, my mind frays at the edge of reason, and my senses shut down. All I can breathe is the smoke coming out of the almost stubbed cigarette. Like a reflex action my hand jumps at the availability of the lit, almost unfinished cigarette, which has to offer almost one good drag of sense into my mind, bring my brain back from oblivion and rekindle my senses again at least for the next four seconds. Inside me there is this stupid, insane, mindless, unreasonable, naïve voice, apparently it goes by the name of “Will”.
Mr. Will, a coward, who is realistically inclined and very much in a position to loose its stupid arguments with my most logical mind and technically wants to give up; for reasons beyond my understanding, cannot. Instead of taking the cigarette, holding it between my fingers and taking a drag and returning to sanity; it somehow overtakes my hand and makes my hand stub the cigarette as if to protect itself, to protect me. The stubbed cigarette now done with and very much dead, is crushed. All of a sudden there is absolute silence around me. Absolute Silence. All is Silent, all for a lousy second. Then it hits my mind like a tsunami. Wait a minute! What just happened? How did Mr. Cowardly Will become so strong in a split second????? Everybody is astonished, looking at me as if I have gone completely, raving-ly sterile.
Almost all out the five have stopped talking and smoking. Stopped whatever they were doing and are looking at me like five pimps; who have taken what Mr. Will just did, to their heart and as if they are mortally wounded by what I just did. As if my will has let them down somehow. All of them wanting a piece of me, literally, pun intended.
I on the other hand am absolutely quiet. Lost, in the past. The past – funny words.
There was a time I used to smoke at least two whole god damned packets of Mr. Bengis. I usually wouldn’t be seen without a whore between my fingers. These whores, were the only ones who could actually satisfy me, really satisfy me. So much so that my lungs would scream, yell, shout and my mind like it always has, maybe always will, wouldn’t ever listen. Everything was perfect then. It used to be a perfect world. Temptations used to whirl me around, used to make me feel somehow wanted, somehow always giddy with a silly grin across my face. My hands never used to shake. My mind never used to scream. My blood never used to want. To top it all off, Mr. Will used to never show up; all was sane, all because of Ms. Temptation. The present – a tough place to live in; gives a much inverted picture. With everybody around me smoking-ly sane, I don’t know how to handle my insanity. I am trying everything else I can,to bring it back, bring my sane mind back; a beer, a scotch, a cigar, a drive, the beach, the café, water, chewing gums, bubble gums, candy, chocolate., muffins, more food, more air, more, more, more, more of everything and anything of more. Sadly, and quiet sadly nothing comes close to a tiny fag worth 7 minutes of my so called precious life (I fail to see how at the least my life can be precious), which lasts for about 4 minutes, give or take 2.
This whole episode, has led me somewhere, a place within me, a fort named Resolve. It has profoundly made me stronger (going by the words “What hurts you, only makes you stronger” or “What makes you mad, only makes you more sane”), more un-bothering by events happening around me, more in your face types. It has also thrown questions at my weak mind; how long can I really hold my Resolve with my will?
How long, indeed?
Any of them, on failing to stub and put out their cigarettes dead, the smoke still emanating from the thrown cigarette, hits my nose. My blood goes in overdrive, my brain refuses to listen, my mind frays at the edge of reason, and my senses shut down. All I can breathe is the smoke coming out of the almost stubbed cigarette. Like a reflex action my hand jumps at the availability of the lit, almost unfinished cigarette, which has to offer almost one good drag of sense into my mind, bring my brain back from oblivion and rekindle my senses again at least for the next four seconds. Inside me there is this stupid, insane, mindless, unreasonable, naïve voice, apparently it goes by the name of “Will”.
Mr. Will, a coward, who is realistically inclined and very much in a position to loose its stupid arguments with my most logical mind and technically wants to give up; for reasons beyond my understanding, cannot. Instead of taking the cigarette, holding it between my fingers and taking a drag and returning to sanity; it somehow overtakes my hand and makes my hand stub the cigarette as if to protect itself, to protect me. The stubbed cigarette now done with and very much dead, is crushed. All of a sudden there is absolute silence around me. Absolute Silence. All is Silent, all for a lousy second. Then it hits my mind like a tsunami. Wait a minute! What just happened? How did Mr. Cowardly Will become so strong in a split second????? Everybody is astonished, looking at me as if I have gone completely, raving-ly sterile.
Almost all out the five have stopped talking and smoking. Stopped whatever they were doing and are looking at me like five pimps; who have taken what Mr. Will just did, to their heart and as if they are mortally wounded by what I just did. As if my will has let them down somehow. All of them wanting a piece of me, literally, pun intended.
I on the other hand am absolutely quiet. Lost, in the past. The past – funny words.
There was a time I used to smoke at least two whole god damned packets of Mr. Bengis. I usually wouldn’t be seen without a whore between my fingers. These whores, were the only ones who could actually satisfy me, really satisfy me. So much so that my lungs would scream, yell, shout and my mind like it always has, maybe always will, wouldn’t ever listen. Everything was perfect then. It used to be a perfect world. Temptations used to whirl me around, used to make me feel somehow wanted, somehow always giddy with a silly grin across my face. My hands never used to shake. My mind never used to scream. My blood never used to want. To top it all off, Mr. Will used to never show up; all was sane, all because of Ms. Temptation. The present – a tough place to live in; gives a much inverted picture. With everybody around me smoking-ly sane, I don’t know how to handle my insanity. I am trying everything else I can,to bring it back, bring my sane mind back; a beer, a scotch, a cigar, a drive, the beach, the café, water, chewing gums, bubble gums, candy, chocolate., muffins, more food, more air, more, more, more, more of everything and anything of more. Sadly, and quiet sadly nothing comes close to a tiny fag worth 7 minutes of my so called precious life (I fail to see how at the least my life can be precious), which lasts for about 4 minutes, give or take 2.
This whole episode, has led me somewhere, a place within me, a fort named Resolve. It has profoundly made me stronger (going by the words “What hurts you, only makes you stronger” or “What makes you mad, only makes you more sane”), more un-bothering by events happening around me, more in your face types. It has also thrown questions at my weak mind; how long can I really hold my Resolve with my will?
How long, indeed?
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Momento (not memento)
A bunch of my friends and I had gone to this amazing place called ‘Kashid’; I had been there before, but it was their first time. Kashid is supposed to be 140 kms down south of Bombay, towards Goa. It’s a non existing village stop over. Quiet, somewhat frozen in time, clean and away. It was 6 of us traveling by road in a hired vehicle. The drive was pretty majestic, but that’s not what this is about. Read on.
The oxford dictionary defines ‘time’ as ‘duration regarded as belonging to the present life as distinct from the life to come or from eternity…’ Time for me was non existent, not to be bothered with, to be left alone, and senselessly lost.
Almost no dictionaries define the word ‘Momento’.
The time spent at Kashid was the time, which is forever frozen stored in my minds eye. Why? Well there are many reasons, perfect place to visit at the perfect time and with one big perfect somebody to be. Nope, I am not the mushy kind, well not completely, but I did have some moments in time; moments which show how one person feels about the other. It wasn’t touch and go. It was more sublime-al for me. It was there yet not there, like the sand on the beach, loose and for every hole you dig, the water covers it up. It was more of chemistry than words. It was more of looks than touch. It was more expectations than of action. And yet it was clean, profound, trustworthy, loyal, respected and one thing I would have never believed myself saying, much rather writing about it, that it was Eternal. And this time was what I have never before have had with anyone. It was and still is perfect. The astonishing part of it all was, it was least expected and I did not ever bother trying, not because I dint want to; because maybe I dint deserve it. Well I might still not, but I am the selfish kinds, so I’ll take a leap and take a chance and make a change and live. Isn’t time all about that? Funny, here you are never realizing, never surprised by anything, never feeling anything, never responsible, never worried about time, never even bothered. Poof (like using the word a lot I guess) and the next moment you realize, you are surprised by everything, start feeling, you are responsible, worried about time, bothered. Why? Because you have time, time to live it up with somebody perfect and live it up because you found and fell for somebody perfect. This trip has meant more to me than any other I have taken. It has been a wake up call. Bringing my senses back to life, back to time, back to being old me, back to being (touchwood) happy me.
For me time now is the duration belonging to my present life. During this duration, I want to feel, I don’t want to be alone anymore, I want to be responsible, I want to grow up I guess.
Excuse my most arrogant ego, I define ‘Momento’ as; ‘A point of time when life starts and you start living.’
Good morning!
The oxford dictionary defines ‘time’ as ‘duration regarded as belonging to the present life as distinct from the life to come or from eternity…’ Time for me was non existent, not to be bothered with, to be left alone, and senselessly lost.
Almost no dictionaries define the word ‘Momento’.
The time spent at Kashid was the time, which is forever frozen stored in my minds eye. Why? Well there are many reasons, perfect place to visit at the perfect time and with one big perfect somebody to be. Nope, I am not the mushy kind, well not completely, but I did have some moments in time; moments which show how one person feels about the other. It wasn’t touch and go. It was more sublime-al for me. It was there yet not there, like the sand on the beach, loose and for every hole you dig, the water covers it up. It was more of chemistry than words. It was more of looks than touch. It was more expectations than of action. And yet it was clean, profound, trustworthy, loyal, respected and one thing I would have never believed myself saying, much rather writing about it, that it was Eternal. And this time was what I have never before have had with anyone. It was and still is perfect. The astonishing part of it all was, it was least expected and I did not ever bother trying, not because I dint want to; because maybe I dint deserve it. Well I might still not, but I am the selfish kinds, so I’ll take a leap and take a chance and make a change and live. Isn’t time all about that? Funny, here you are never realizing, never surprised by anything, never feeling anything, never responsible, never worried about time, never even bothered. Poof (like using the word a lot I guess) and the next moment you realize, you are surprised by everything, start feeling, you are responsible, worried about time, bothered. Why? Because you have time, time to live it up with somebody perfect and live it up because you found and fell for somebody perfect. This trip has meant more to me than any other I have taken. It has been a wake up call. Bringing my senses back to life, back to time, back to being old me, back to being (touchwood) happy me.
For me time now is the duration belonging to my present life. During this duration, I want to feel, I don’t want to be alone anymore, I want to be responsible, I want to grow up I guess.
Excuse my most arrogant ego, I define ‘Momento’ as; ‘A point of time when life starts and you start living.’
Good morning!
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Rambling Time
Its March 2007, I am 23 and will be starting 24 in a months time. I am a faculty of Information Technology teaching in a college. I have found my calling, I am a teacher/professor (kinky, isn’t it….yeah baby!!!) And NO I am not afraid of growing old and wise (or not). I am afraid of the fact that being, will I ever be responsible in life? Don’t get me wrong I am trying here, but is trying the best I can do? Surely not! Although I don’t have time I always wonder one thing that being; I don’t know where time has slipped away? I still got a lot of stuff that I have to do before I hit 40 but at this pace, it doesn’t seem enough time. I am trying to learn time management, in which I suck totally. I still have to study (well I am still a student in the same college) and get my PG degree and apply for further studies. I still have to get my priorities straight. Funny word “Priority”, isn’t it? Precedence, Prudent Precedence. What and who decides what I will be doing with 2 precarious precious hours of my life. And who will decide between what I am supposed to do? And What I want to do? Up until now it’s been me, but I somehow feel that the decision making is slipping away from my hands to bureaucratic simpletons.
What reminds me of me of this happening, is a penguin in Fight Club( THE HOLLYWOOD ONE), Saying just one word “Slide”. And that’s exactly how I feel, that I am sliding, Sliding through time, time that doesn’t belong to me. The only difference being the penguin is comfortable in his natural habitat and I have lost my natural habitat completely. I don’t know where do I belong? Haha! I Know that’s the most generalist question anyone can ever ask, but at the same time I feel clueless. Clueless about what tomorrow holds for me. To top it off, my backlogging has caused this huge avalanche situation where a slight shift of weight or a slight increase of noise level will result me snowed in, bowled over with 30 feet of snow above me and to put a cherry on the cake, is the fact that the pressure is doing nothing to me. It doesn’t affect me, I have become so indifferent to things and situations around me that I don’t care anymore. Not for a soul not for soulful things. The only soul I care about is “ME” and the things that make me “SOULFUL”. I guess this is self preservation. Its funny, while growing up you swear to yourself that you’ll never become something you hate but, as you would have it you do ultimately land up in a spot where you self analyze your every move and wonder how you landed up here, where you swore you never would. Vague? I can’t help the feeling either. I am not searching for the answers. I am searching for the source of the question. It’s a tunneling effect, I guess. You just wake up everyday wondering how could this be possible, how could I be so indifferent and then next thing you hear out of you is “Naaaaah” and go about your daily about, giving hoots for people. Its as if you never give a dam about anything in your life. This usually happens when people start taking you for granted and trying to make decisions for you. That’s what makes me furious and that what makes me revolt and rebuke. I don’t regret my decisions and things I have done but at the same time I sometimes “up my ass” myself even, I don’t agree to whatever I am doing and I am trying to change that for once. That’s what 
salvation is for me, self-preservation, trying to make myself to listen to me. Which part of me listens me to is a completely different story for me. What am I talking about well, just the fact that, My mind is so tired of talking and not being listen to by my heart, that it has officially given up thinking. I think he is waiting for my heart to fall and crack. But secretly I wish that it never thinks again, ever again. At the same time my heart keeps falling, never cracks though knowing that it has to get up and take another blow in the face. My hearts become this sadist who eventually just loves getting punched and feel pain. A hats off to the person who said “Life is Simple”. Wish you were here, it would have been good time management beating your silly ass to simplicity. “Well if you want to kill time, try beating it to death!” Think. Avarice to do more in the time I have.
What reminds me of me of this happening, is a penguin in Fight Club( THE HOLLYWOOD ONE), Saying just one word “Slide”. And that’s exactly how I feel, that I am sliding, Sliding through time, time that doesn’t belong to me. The only difference being the penguin is comfortable in his natural habitat and I have lost my natural habitat completely. I don’t know where do I belong? Haha! I Know that’s the most generalist question anyone can ever ask, but at the same time I feel clueless. Clueless about what tomorrow holds for me. To top it off, my backlogging has caused this huge avalanche situation where a slight shift of weight or a slight increase of noise level will result me snowed in, bowled over with 30 feet of snow above me and to put a cherry on the cake, is the fact that the pressure is doing nothing to me. It doesn’t affect me, I have become so indifferent to things and situations around me that I don’t care anymore. Not for a soul not for soulful things. The only soul I care about is “ME” and the things that make me “SOULFUL”. I guess this is self preservation. Its funny, while growing up you swear to yourself that you’ll never become something you hate but, as you would have it you do ultimately land up in a spot where you self analyze your every move and wonder how you landed up here, where you swore you never would. Vague? I can’t help the feeling either. I am not searching for the answers. I am searching for the source of the question. It’s a tunneling effect, I guess. You just wake up everyday wondering how could this be possible, how could I be so indifferent and then next thing you hear out of you is “Naaaaah” and go about your daily about, giving hoots for people. Its as if you never give a dam about anything in your life. This usually happens when people start taking you for granted and trying to make decisions for you. That’s what makes me furious and that what makes me revolt and rebuke. I don’t regret my decisions and things I have done but at the same time I sometimes “up my ass” myself even, I don’t agree to whatever I am doing and I am trying to change that for once. That’s what 
salvation is for me, self-preservation, trying to make myself to listen to me. Which part of me listens me to is a completely different story for me. What am I talking about well, just the fact that, My mind is so tired of talking and not being listen to by my heart, that it has officially given up thinking. I think he is waiting for my heart to fall and crack. But secretly I wish that it never thinks again, ever again. At the same time my heart keeps falling, never cracks though knowing that it has to get up and take another blow in the face. My hearts become this sadist who eventually just loves getting punched and feel pain. A hats off to the person who said “Life is Simple”. Wish you were here, it would have been good time management beating your silly ass to simplicity. “Well if you want to kill time, try beating it to death!” Think. Avarice to do more in the time I have.Monday, February 26, 2007
The Head Mistress
This is for you, old wicker lady.
When I saw you standing thereI about fell off my chair
When you moved your mouth to speak
I felt the blood go to my feet
Now it took time for me to know
What you tried so not to show
Something in my soul just died
I see the burning rage in your blue eyes
Well, at the risk of him turning in his grave, yeah, they are the changed lyrics of one of Lobo’s songs. And, that was what was going on in my head - when I met Dr. Ms. S Anand for the first time (obviously, I am lying). Being a student in “RDN”, I had heard of the new principal, but never had seen her. I got my fair chance one day.
It was a lazy summer afternoon. I had gotten up late and the consequence was that I was late for one my English Prelim paper, I rushed to college in my pajamas (those being red checkered boxers) and my white tee. I was allowed to sit for the exam with the consequence being I would be starting the paper at the least an hour late. I gave in my paper, totally incomplete. My next paper was the one I loathed most - Hindi. I was waiting for my friend return my Hindi digest, outside his class. The professor in charge was collecting the papers. Out of the corner of my eye I saw, an old lady dressed in a whitish yellow sari, walking towards me. She stopped, and glared with all the wrath she had within her, it felt like she had stored it especially, for a day like this. I wasn’t concentrating on what she was saying, being tamed to the noise, I simply used to stand and sing a song in my head. For moments, I assumed that she was yelling because I was standing outside the class, during the examinations, but when I actually did listen, I came to know that she was actually yelling and shouting because of my pajamas. I waved my hand at her face, in a kind of “mind your own business” gesture. Yes…. I was arrogant to the heights of arrogance. I walked away very coolly, and there was crowd gathering around her, after seeing what I had done, she was taking out the angst on other students around her, telling them to dare not wear clothes like mine, while attending college. Well, in my own defense I was plain and simply - lazy, arrogant and bull-headed and besides, I really really was late for my prelims.
Seven years seems to be a very long time. And believe me they are, especially for some one studying in the same educational institution. I joined R D National college in the academic year 1999-2000. At first when I joined I was extremely skeptical of the institution. Being that age, fresh out in the last rims of the cocooned world, I expected a lot from it and not having any regrets I’ll say the college didn’t offer me much. I did not take engineering although I very well could have, simply because there was too much to study, now that I look back I laugh at myself. I have been studying for the last seven years and I am, for one, proud of it. And I always wondered what made me love knowledge and information so much. And there’s always has been one answer “R.D.National College of Arts and Commerce, and W.A.College of Science.”
When I first joined RDN as a student, Mr. Taggarse was the Head of the Institution at that time. For most of the year, I didn’t know him by face, only by his name. This was odd, since I always had a problem with the authorities. I used to care a tuppence for people who commanded me to get my homework done. So much so that when demanded their well due respect I used to walk out of the class. I don’t regret it. At the end of the same year, I was asked not give my terminal exams, thanks to technicalities called “rules” which didn’t apply to me at that age(they don’t at this age too), for my commanders in chief, required me to fall in every day and I simply would not. They asked me to “go talk to the principal”. And having one whole year on the line, I simply had to oblige. This was the first time I had met Mr. Taggarse and he being and authoritive figure I took an instant dislike towards him. I instantly put on my charming hat, which still isn’t much, and tried to coax him to let me sit for the exams. Which were starting on the same day itself. He knowing me by my reputation, didn’t warm up to the idea. But he understood that I could loose a year and finally had to cave in.
After that little episode my problems with authority increased, albeit I never had to report to the principal again, the commanders in chief always used to keep me in control. In the midst of it, I heard the news of Mr. Taggerse retiring as the principal. For once, I don’t know why but I was a little happy. I never really liked the old chap. And I really don’t know why?!!!!!!
Anyways, Coming back to Dr. Ms. S. Anand, As an outsider, still connected to the college as a student, I have seen this institution go from a gang producer to a talent pool, during her reign. The college has a face because of her and for that I will always be proud to say that I am a seagull from R D NATIONAL College. During this course of change, the college has seen many changes, to take notice of some, one is the “BlowFest” which is an annual festival, tests the college’s talent pool to its fullest, builds a camaraderie and a sense of healthy competition. It also has given a rising stage to talented artist, a start in their full of talent careers if you may. Other changes are the infrastructure, for example the auditorium, the New labs, new equipments, the conference room all a gift from her.
A salute to a Principal, who willed change and made it happen not only for the college but for us too.
When I saw you standing thereI about fell off my chair
When you moved your mouth to speak
I felt the blood go to my feet
Now it took time for me to know
What you tried so not to show
Something in my soul just died
I see the burning rage in your blue eyes
Well, at the risk of him turning in his grave, yeah, they are the changed lyrics of one of Lobo’s songs. And, that was what was going on in my head - when I met Dr. Ms. S Anand for the first time (obviously, I am lying). Being a student in “RDN”, I had heard of the new principal, but never had seen her. I got my fair chance one day.
It was a lazy summer afternoon. I had gotten up late and the consequence was that I was late for one my English Prelim paper, I rushed to college in my pajamas (those being red checkered boxers) and my white tee. I was allowed to sit for the exam with the consequence being I would be starting the paper at the least an hour late. I gave in my paper, totally incomplete. My next paper was the one I loathed most - Hindi. I was waiting for my friend return my Hindi digest, outside his class. The professor in charge was collecting the papers. Out of the corner of my eye I saw, an old lady dressed in a whitish yellow sari, walking towards me. She stopped, and glared with all the wrath she had within her, it felt like she had stored it especially, for a day like this. I wasn’t concentrating on what she was saying, being tamed to the noise, I simply used to stand and sing a song in my head. For moments, I assumed that she was yelling because I was standing outside the class, during the examinations, but when I actually did listen, I came to know that she was actually yelling and shouting because of my pajamas. I waved my hand at her face, in a kind of “mind your own business” gesture. Yes…. I was arrogant to the heights of arrogance. I walked away very coolly, and there was crowd gathering around her, after seeing what I had done, she was taking out the angst on other students around her, telling them to dare not wear clothes like mine, while attending college. Well, in my own defense I was plain and simply - lazy, arrogant and bull-headed and besides, I really really was late for my prelims.
Seven years seems to be a very long time. And believe me they are, especially for some one studying in the same educational institution. I joined R D National college in the academic year 1999-2000. At first when I joined I was extremely skeptical of the institution. Being that age, fresh out in the last rims of the cocooned world, I expected a lot from it and not having any regrets I’ll say the college didn’t offer me much. I did not take engineering although I very well could have, simply because there was too much to study, now that I look back I laugh at myself. I have been studying for the last seven years and I am, for one, proud of it. And I always wondered what made me love knowledge and information so much. And there’s always has been one answer “R.D.National College of Arts and Commerce, and W.A.College of Science.”
When I first joined RDN as a student, Mr. Taggarse was the Head of the Institution at that time. For most of the year, I didn’t know him by face, only by his name. This was odd, since I always had a problem with the authorities. I used to care a tuppence for people who commanded me to get my homework done. So much so that when demanded their well due respect I used to walk out of the class. I don’t regret it. At the end of the same year, I was asked not give my terminal exams, thanks to technicalities called “rules” which didn’t apply to me at that age(they don’t at this age too), for my commanders in chief, required me to fall in every day and I simply would not. They asked me to “go talk to the principal”. And having one whole year on the line, I simply had to oblige. This was the first time I had met Mr. Taggarse and he being and authoritive figure I took an instant dislike towards him. I instantly put on my charming hat, which still isn’t much, and tried to coax him to let me sit for the exams. Which were starting on the same day itself. He knowing me by my reputation, didn’t warm up to the idea. But he understood that I could loose a year and finally had to cave in.
After that little episode my problems with authority increased, albeit I never had to report to the principal again, the commanders in chief always used to keep me in control. In the midst of it, I heard the news of Mr. Taggerse retiring as the principal. For once, I don’t know why but I was a little happy. I never really liked the old chap. And I really don’t know why?!!!!!!
Anyways, Coming back to Dr. Ms. S. Anand, As an outsider, still connected to the college as a student, I have seen this institution go from a gang producer to a talent pool, during her reign. The college has a face because of her and for that I will always be proud to say that I am a seagull from R D NATIONAL College. During this course of change, the college has seen many changes, to take notice of some, one is the “BlowFest” which is an annual festival, tests the college’s talent pool to its fullest, builds a camaraderie and a sense of healthy competition. It also has given a rising stage to talented artist, a start in their full of talent careers if you may. Other changes are the infrastructure, for example the auditorium, the New labs, new equipments, the conference room all a gift from her.
A salute to a Principal, who willed change and made it happen not only for the college but for us too.
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