It rained in Hyderabad.

I drove my car out of the parking and started for home. It was raining and raining heavily. The clouds, which had been lingering around in Hyderabad skies, threatening a strike anytime, for the past few days, finally delivered what they had threatened.

I was expecting a few traffic jams on my way.

One particular jam, which happens regularly and very near to my house is the most frustrating.

There is a 2 lane bridge across the river Musi just before the next traffic signal. When traffic gets heavy people drive in to the opposite lane(on the other side of the divider) and block oncoming traffic from the other side. And it was raining today.

There is a bus stop just after the bridge(near the lights) and a traffic jam there means no buses on the reverse route.

I was listening to songs while waiting for the traffic to clear, all the time watching more and more people enter into the other lane from before the bridge and try to take a right turn through the opposite lane.

The traffic came to a halt. Nothing moved. The I started looking around for anything interesting.
I saw a student arguing with a biker about something pointing towards the traffic lights. I thought he might be asking a lift and the biker refusing and all.. But then he talked to another biker, then an autowalla. I got interested.

He was talking to people who crossed into the other lane and was very softly(with nerdy glasses and a notebook in his hand) trying to convince them that it was not right and they are blocking the traffic from the other side. People just neglected the guy. His words fell through deaf ears. But he kept going. He tried talking to more people, but their responses did not vary.

It was still raining slowly. I felt a slight pity for the boy. And a feeling that he needs to use force not persuasion to have effect.

Slowly I saw a few more youngsters join with him in trying to convince people not to come into the other lane. Then a few more joined in. And then more came in.
By the time I reached the traffic light the boy was standing at the starting point of a chain of students forming a human traffic divider, guiding vehicles into the right lane.

And the traffic flowed. The jam was gone. And while crossing the junction I could see four smiling, relieved, proud policemen standing in the 4 different directions telling the boys when to stop people and when to let them go.

I had that smile people have when they actually see something they think is only a matter of TV shows or intellectual talk, propaganda bullshit and the types...

It was real. It happened. I saw it. And it rained in Hyderabad.

Anger Management Joke!

Go on and read this.. For all those anger freaks....!!

Are you pissed off? Take it out on someone! But don’t take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don’t know!
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I’d forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying “Hello.”
I politely said, “This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?”
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear “Get the right f***ing number!”And the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn’s correct number to call her,I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled “You’re an ass hole!” and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word ‘ass hole’ next to it, and put it in mydesk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had areally bad day, I’d call him up and yell, “You’re an ass hole!” It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic ‘ass hole’ calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, “Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I’m calling to see if you’re familiar with our Caller ID Program?”
He yelled “NO!” and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, “That’s because you’re an ass hole!” and hung up.
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I’d been waiting for that spot, but the idiotignored me. I noticed a “For Sale” sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first ass hole (I had his number on speed dial),I thought that I’d better call the BMW ass hole, too. I said, “Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?”
He said, “Yes, it is.”
I asked, “Can you tell me where I can see it?”
He said, “Yes, I live at 34 Oak tree Blvd., in Fairfax. It’s a yellow ambler, and the car’s parked right out in front.”
I asked, “What’s your name?”
He said, “My name is Don Hansen,”
I asked, “When’s a good time to catch you, Don?”
He said, “I’m home every evening after five.”
I said, “Listen, Don, can I tell you something?”
He said, “Yes?”
I said, “Don, you’re an ass hole!” and I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.Now when I had a problem, I had two ass holes to call.
Then I came up with an idea. I called ass hole #1. He said, “Hello.”
I said, “You’re an ass hole!” (but I didn’t hang up).
He asked, “Are you still there?”
I said, “Yeah,”He screamed, “Stop calling me,”
I said, “Make me,”
He asked, “Who are you?”
I said, “My name is Don Hansen .” He said, “Yeah? Where do you live?”
I said, “Ass hole, I live at 34 Oak tree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow ambler.I have a black Beamer parked in front.”
He said, “I’m coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers.”
I said, “Yeah, like I’m really scared, ass hole,” and hung up.
Then I called Ass hole #2.He said, “Hello?”
I said, “Hello, ass hole,”
He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are…”
I said, “You’ll what?”
He exclaimed, “I’ll kick your ass.”
I answered, “Well, ass hole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now.”
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oak tree Blvd, in Fairfax, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oak tree Blvd. in Fairfax.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax. I got there just in time to watch two ass holes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.
I feel much better (sigh).Anger management really does work.

The Match.

I was pained today. emotionally. Mumbai Indians lost the match against Rajasthan Royals. It was a match that they had almost won half way through the Royals innings but somehow managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.
Sachin will be out of IPL this year now.
I supported his team all through and in the end they could not hold their nerves. That really made me so sad. I trust myself to perform my best when most needed(call it crunch situation). And when I am supporting someone so wholly and with the heart and when he(I refer to the team as a person here.For me its Sachin=Team.Coz hes the captain) turns out a choker, I feel really let down.
This brings me to the question:
Why should I feel so much for a team? Why should I relate my happiness to someone else's success? And that too when I really have no direct relation there; No personal stake in his success; No contribution I can make and no result I can have a share of.
Why should I get so excited?
One reason could be that I personally think I would have become a Sachin tendulkar if not for studies and parental pressure to pursue reading more than playing... And then in that case that would be MY team playing out there.
One reason for this is that you need to associate yourself to something. Man, by nature, is a social animal. He needs company. Of course groups were initially formed for resource aggregation but, through the ages now, every social animal needs to share its feelings, anger love, hunger, gaiety, anything. But it needs to share. For that it needs to associate itself to some group. A personal group. Could be a family, a class, a friends group, a players group, a city, a state, a country, and many more. It just needs to have something in common. Or some interest in common. In this team's case it is the win which becomes common. When they win you win. You feel great. They lose you lose. You feel bad. You moods are dictated by that teams perfomances. and so it goes on...as long as the team exists or you severe the connection with it.

Another true(and deeper) reason is, I admire Sachin so much and believe in his ability so much, I want him to win.
Now .. Why?? WHy is it that I want him to win?

That is because if he wins my trust in his ability will be vindicated. I get emotional benefit and satisfaction as well as confidence for recognizing and trusting the right ability. And it proves to me that what I recognise as talent is surely talent. So when I recognise something in myself I will trust it to be true and hence it will add to my overall confidence in myself and my abilities.
So things like these really matter.
It applies to almost all people, old guys to kids, everyone.
And this applies also to you and ...me .

Late nights...

I've been observing a little strange phenomenon about myself..

My past few blogs have been written by me in the night. And I mean late night, like right now 12:40 am and beyond.

I feel like writing when I am alone, and there is no one to disturb me.(Guess thats like one of the most common preferences of ppl) but still, there is an evening and there is a morning and there is an after lunch time at office when all go to sleep.(me too). So why only the night?

Okay, I'll tell you. Lately I have been having this feeling that sleeping is such a waste of time.

I just don't feel like sleeping long hours. My body asks for it but when I really do sleep, inside me someone wakes me up some one wants me to get up and get going.

So, since I can't really sing and make loud noises at night and I am not so much interested in anything else, my body turns me towards writing. It forces me to write. I don't know if it really does something constructive, but it does give me a feeling of satisfaction that I have done something instead of just sleeping off.

Now my body is using all kinds of filthy words for me and pulling me to sleep, but I just feel like writing some thing more...

Sleep is as important as anything else in life. I know. And many things in life are more important than sleep sometimes. Writing a blog presently seems one of those things to me..

I'll know better in future. I guess....
My liking for writing might stem from the fact that I am basically an open minded guy. I don't like keeping personal feelings in myself and die. When you have no hidden feelings, no stored up emotions, you're happiest and my sole purpose in life is happiness, my happiness as well of people around me.
So when I write the feelings inside me come out in the form of words. There are some feelings which cannot find expression physically. Those sentiments find a home in the writings. And when I read them back, I feel a sense of freedom inside me, a feeling of relinquishing some kind of control over myself, some breaking of shackles kindof stuff.
Now it might not be all so complex and so sentimental but simply.... I like writing. It gives me a sense of permanence in this impermanent world.
I try to understand the concepts behind life and try to explain them to myself and to you(which is many a times me myself!).
I would keep on writing till my hands fall off if not for sleep. and the topic goes back to the starting point.. Good night..

Guide....

"Zindagi bhi ek nasha hai dost.
Jab chadta hai to poocho mat kya alam rehta hai.
Lekin jab utarta hai......"
Hmm..... Din Dhal Jaaye, haye, raat na jaaye..
Tu to na aaye teri yaad sataye..

The Guide

At 1 am in the night, all I have in my eyes are tear drops which I cannot allow to come out. The melancholy, the pain in the moment is consuming me, but I cannot give in to it. My throat swells but I feel a a sense of happiness, a strange feeling of contentedness.
As I watch myself go through all these feelings I rewind time to when I opened the folder named "The Guide" and opened the file named "Part-1" in the media player.
I knew the story. But as I watched it, as I got involved in it, as I went through every dialogue every scene of it, the flow took me by hand and led me away. The feeling of love is shown so beautifully in the movie, it moves you.
Love..
Love, is such a strong feeling, it overpowers anything and everything in the world. A profound, unconditional, complete love for something gives you immense, immense strength.
That is why true love is the matter of folklore.
As I write this, I think to myself, "true love".......Hmm....I turn inwards..
I put myself the question.. Do you love anything so truely, so purely as you imagine to be love in its definitive, core form?
A question worth pondering, surely...........
I answer............ and I answer to myself............
Where there is pure trust, where there is complete faith, where there are no bindings no rules, where there is total freedom, where there is nothing but a connection which is assumed an irreplaceable part of your body, an inseperable part of your existence on this earth, of your consciousness, there lies the answer to your question. ....

someone inside me says... "you won't find it my friend.. nobody does.... it is non-existent"
I say..."It is not just people i am talking about, brother.."

An evening through my office....

I came to office late, at about 4:30 PM. I had watched the second final between India and Australia all day at home(skipping office). I felt immense joy and satisfaction that OUR BOYS had done the job and done it well. We had won. My time, it seemed(and everybody would agree!), was very well spent.
I had come to office with the intention of staying back in office, sleeping in the dorm. My colleagues, although jealous of my royal routine have a big heart and accept me as I am.. and I really like them for that. !!
As evening shadows grew longer, a cool breeze started off in the campus. The moment we came out to have snacks I felt myself loose consciousness in the moist smell of the air. There were raindrops somewhere...Ahh.. the fragrance mother earth spreads with her joy of meeting her departed little drops...
The beautiful green trees all around with the blue, yellow, violet, pink flower bushes at their feet and the lush green lawn to the left and right of every step along the curvy path, along with this mesmerising breeze was too much for me to hold in conscious attention.
My friends were talking to me. I listened to them, but my mind was filled with the whole world around me.
They guided me to the snack counter and I ate 2 Veg. Puffs.
We came back to our desks, with tummy's satisfied and minds rejuvenated, elated, dazed.
I was left walking alone, in unchanged external conditions, towards the farther food court after all had left for their homes. The sun had gone down and the ambient lighting was on.
As I went by the Amphitheater I could see people sitting together in groups, in couples, singing, laughing and...., it seemed to me, having no connection to the world whatsoever except that of their mutual presence, the moment and the joy shared in those beautiful surroundings.
I passed by the Cricket ground, grass cut to the perfect level, sprinkled with groups of people, employees of course, of different ethnicities, different languages, different attitudes, chatting, making fun, pulling legs, laughing aloud, smiling quietly, discussing, contemplating, looking into each other's eyes, oblivious to a particular observing guy walking past them, who seemed as if enjoying some experience, moving in a dazed way as if drunk, as if in a state of bliss.
As I saw the faces, as I went up to my dinner plate, as I looked into it, I could not but think,
"What else does a man want in his life".
Every spoon of my dinner gave me joy, and it was not on account of the taste of the food. It was the thought, the feeling, that I had at that moment, the thing that every man in this world desires, searches for through God knows how many ways and through how many means, which he finds at the zenith of his achievements, at the conquest of his goal.
I knew I desired nothing else in the world in that moment...... and I knew I was right.

Time.....

There are times when you feel that the only thing you want to kill is time and there are definitely others when the only thing that you seem to require is time.
Why?
According to the theory of relativity, if I am running faster time runs slower for me and if I am running slower time runs faster for me. This is so, since the speed of time can be taken as a universal constant.
I would like to proceed by demonstrating the point with examples and then end with my conclusion.
If you go to the coffee shop with your father, mother and grandparents you are bound to feel time running very slowly. This might seem a contradiction, but no.
Your speed as compared to your elders is definitely faster and the amount of knowledge about the proceedings at the café that you process is definitely more than them and so you are at a higher pace than your interacting surroundings, i.e. your parents.
In the same background if you accompany your girlfriend, with whom you are head over heels in love, then you are bound to feel time running away faster than expected.
This is not only due to the fact that you are involved in something very passionately but there is also a deeper reason behind. When you are the one more in love and you think the girl has more options than you and can also change her boyfriend, then you try to outthink her, which I must inform is not so easy when confronted by a pro.
Your mind will run slower than you require it to. You will want her to think slower than you but her pace will remain constant, in turn making you feel the need to speed up things in your top floor. This is when you encounter the second case.
There are unlimited such cases through which I can illustate this hypothesis.
For the moment though.... take care..

Experiences...

I put the key into the lock of my room in the only 5-star hotel in the new city.
I smelt something fishy in the silence of the corridor. I was about to enter when I heard a knock on the neighbouring door. I turned to see, when the door on my other side burst open and a man wearing a fish costume jumped out in front of me and started reciting verses from the Bhagvat Gita. I took out my friend’s lighter from the left pocket of my shirt and tried to dry the fish man to death.
He spread his hands and with a shudder clenched his fists, the action spreading his small fins and making a noise like a pig.
In fright and in splits of laughter I took out my Sword of Tipu Sultan knife and was about to tear to shreds the orange in my right hand when the porter asked in a loud enough voice if I would need his services to unload any of my luggage at the present station.
I spit fire through my eyes and asked him to meet me at the next station for that.
He spit the same fire and mouthed a beautiful adjective for me.
I took some air out of the Air-Pillow under my legs and put my rotten smelling apple out of the window of the berth below me.
I felt comfy enough now.
I took out the Parker Pen out of the right pocket of my pant and wrote the words ”Open Sesame” on the rock door of the cave. There was a huge sound and the cave door fell down on the lion which was just about to pounce on the cubs of a lioness that he was thinking of dating.
The event exposed to me the naked expanse of the gigantic inner auditorium. I observed, awestruck, the series of chairs and the huge stage in front. I started searching for the chair with my name or my examination ID number. I remembered innumerable such tests which I had crossed, half prepared, half confident, tensed, relaxed, enjoying the experience, simultaneously dreading the immediate future.
There it was, written on the rosewood table in front of one of so many bamboo chairs… my name in yellow. I closed my eyes.
The wincing pain in my hand brought my attention to the honey-bee sized mosquito reveling in my blood. I snatched my newspaper from the hands of a co-passenger and swat the pest to death. The pleasure I derived from the act is inexplicable. Being an avid follower of Gandhiji’s principles, this act of revenge bringing me pleasure seemed a contradiction in my character. Neglecting such spiritual thoughts I glanced out of the window… trees were running back from my destination. As much as I liked a particular tree, it would run away from the scene all the more faster. One particular tree caught my attention so much it deserved to be recorded for future references. I filled my eyes with its beautiful flower filled picture and closed them.