Another beginning !!

So after 2 years of muffling my inner voice I have decided to let go once again. I really don't have a topic or issue in mind but lets see what I can cough up. Writer's block they say!

I am, by profession, a software engineer. At least for a generation before mine, this is an exciting thing to hear. Apparently we are knee deep in cash and have a exotic lifestyle. So for people having this misconception let me clarify. NOT ALWAYS TRUE! For some of my fellow software engineers, life would be much better off if we were living in buffet bedrooms with a game station. Apart from the inevitable office hours, life revolves around food, sleep and games.

For us bachelors, at least, nothing triumphs food. If it were home cooked delicacies, there could be a mini riot around the corner. Its people like us who are driving fast food joint( exaggeration intended!). We order pizza just cause we would have to walk 50 meters to draw cash to eat at the North Indian diner and the pizza delivery comes with a swipe machine.

As lazy as we are, there are no compromises in ambitions. We are aspiring photographers, musicians, mountaineers, writers [ :-) not really me!], painters, Investment Bankers, not to mention the technocrat heavy weights. Everyone has one or the project going in the background.  For some being software engineer is like a part time job paying the bills through years while they figure out what they "really" want to do.

In spite of the good that we are doing for the society and the countries economy, we have always been treated as a menace. We are keeping up the good work in the midst of neighbors' eyeballing and complaints. Its not easy to survive in this jungle.


P.S. Though small it does break the jinx.

Contemplations of a tired mind!

He stood there... just stood there. Now when he tries to remember what he was thinking ... he can’t remember anything. May be he had acquired that what millions of people aspire to get... Nirmal Sthiti (state of no thought). He stood there... at the bus stop. He had a real bad day.

The cuffs of his white shirt folded twice in a haphazard manner. The edges of his cuffs were turning brownish black. He simply hated to look at it. He felt disgusted. The greasy cuffs were carrying all his deeds of the day. He could not stand to look at them anymore. He gave one more fold to each of his cuffs, looking around while doing it... as if he was in involved in a crime, a fugitive ... with a lofty sum offered on his capture...Trying hard to move un-noticed through the crowd. Did anyone else see his cuffs? This question was getting very overwhelming for him. It was as if someone saw his cuffs, they will come to know... That would be disastrous.

A burst of smoke left the exhaust of the bus... Taking up some leaves and dust from the road... a few torn bus tickets, an empty pack of chips, few cigarette butts... He turned his face sideways to escape the shock wave that left the bus. The bus drove away... Why didn’t he take that bus? What the hell? What is happening to him? Why didn’t he take that bus? He could not answer these questions... Instead he was grinning! He couldn’t help it. He looked at people around him. Looking for someone to share this foolish act of his, smiling during the search... Everyone else was busy. Some on phone, some with other people.

 

Slowly his smile faded away... something was missing in his life. Something which people around him had... But he didn’t. What is it?  They all looked so happy. He tried to observe two men standing to his right. He had seen them before at the same bus stand. It might have been a possibility they worked in the building next to his building. They were talking intensely about something. One of them was smoking profusely.  The smoker seemed to be having some problems at office. The smoker said to his partner “Man! If I can just get out this company I think my life will improve. It’s not the money I want. I want peace in life. I dunn want people riding my ass all the time. You know yaar I never run from work.” His partner nodded in consent. “It’s just that I’m not a f@#king slave yaar!”

 

Hearing the smoker’s speech, He felt relieved. At least he’s not the only one with problems. A cute girl walked by... smelling nice. Lavender he thought.  Yes! It’s definitely lavender. How come girls look so fresh even after a full day at office? He turned his head left took a deep breath in order to see how his deodorant was working. It seemed like the visa for his imported deodorant had expired and thus was deported. 

He was still waiting... standing. His feet were starting to hurt now. He moved his toes in his shoes to ease the pain a bit. Like that would help! Why the hell am i so unhappy! He was tired. So tired it almost felt like he was drunk and now the hangover was setting in. This is no way to live. He thought. A person is not supposed to find reason to be happy. Shit! He realised! Have to go to the laundry today! Aw man! When will I get time to just relax! 

He looked around with his half open eyes. There was a slow but decisive movement in the mob around him. People were looking towards their right. Some leaning forward, some standing on their toes. Ah! A bus was on its way to the stop. Unknowingly he spoke out loud the first thought that came to his mind. Which route number is it! A few heads turned. Someone replied ... its 302! Ah! Its my set of wheels. 

He slowly move forward ... towards the front. What followed was a gruesome battle ... first to board the bus, second to get a seat. He fought well and was rewarded with a window seat. As more and more people boarded and the bus puffed up to its capacity, the conductor rang the bell. The sweet sound of the little bell giving the driver consent to drive. It was like wedding bells for some, bells at a temple for others. He saw people standing looking around at people sitting. Envy, hatred, disappointment, temptation, curiosity ... different emotions in their eyes.

As the bus picked up speed, he tilted his head out of the window. The cool evening wind ruffling his hair and refreshing his very soul. Ah! Life is great! He thought.

The English Essay !!

An average kid in 9th grade... Now if you think about it .. you may feel jealous of his carefree life but the truth is his life really is difficult in its own small perspective. Never mind about that.. may be we'll come to that scenario sometime later.

Try and remember the English exam... that inevitable first question : - Write a composition (350-400 words) on any one of the following: !!! Then what followed was a list of various topics.. Persuasive/argumentative , comparative, descriptive or Narrative... What was then required of us was to select a topic, a decision which was so important that none other seemed to come in competition.

On a personal note i was always in favor of story writing. You could barf up anything on the answer sheet.. it was the freedom that drove me. One thing that was consistent with all my essays was my opening line. The opening was very important as we all know very well. Whatever i chose.. a story, a social satire on the corrupt bureaucrats of the country, an evaluation of  the education system or the description of some shade of nature/life, i always had the perfect opening for all of them. I will spill the beans ... the essay always started as... 'Man is a social animal'.

A fact you all will agree on. My heart goes out to thank the person who was first to use these words(i dunn know who! ). Some feminists or supporters of feminism might point out that why does it say 'Man is a social animal'. Does it mean that women are not social animals? Or is it that i am such a chauvinist that i dunn even take women into consideration when passing out statements such as these. So Jill, Sandra, Neha, Kim and Anechka ... please dunn blame me! I personally love girls and I have deep respect for them. Blame the person who first said it. Well thinking about it, feminism is also an issue for which I have very strong feelings. I will write about that too sometime.

Having nailed the opening, what followed was either a beautiful figment of my imagination or an old, not so popular movie story modified by removing the romantic affairs and other stuff(if you know what i mean!). My stories were mostly about struggle or tenacity. And c'mon like all hindi movies the struggle had to give way to success. Right !? So always a happy ending. You dunn want the teacher feeling sad at the end of the story, that is when she had to put down your marks. It was important that she felt encouraged and generous.

Despite of all the planning, manipulation and the strong opening line, someway somehow it was never good enough for my english teacher. It was sad to see all the strategies and planning go to waste. In the results english was always lowest of all subjects. And now that you have read this post, you know why it was the lowest!

 Signing off.