Disillusioned

Who's to say what's right and what's wrong.

We spend our entire time growing up being told what's right and what's wrong. And those are just facts of life for us. The unshakable faith that we have in those who guide us at home and outside overrules a very simplistic curiosity which does not even comprehend the differences

between right and wrong.

There comes a time in everybody's life when the line marking the difference between the two turns hazy. Thats when your curiosity turns into judgemental analysis. You begin seeing beyobnd black and white. You see different shades of grey that make all the differece to your line of thought. The line no longer remains a line...it now becomes a band. You are disillusioned with the very concepts of right or wrong.

Circumstances force you to see beyond right and wrong. Some things are just that neither right nor wrong, or both right and wrong at the same time. Which brings us back to the question..What exactly are our actions then?? are they neither right nor wrong? or are they both at the same time. Life is in need of many judges to validate the choices that we make.

As we are that fuddled about the very existence of right or wrong, it is safe to assume that classificaton of our actions cannot happen in those ways. There is no right, there is no wrong. There can only be what's fair and what's not. And when life throws the kitchen sink at you and it hits you hard. Isn't it unfair that you are getting a beating? Or is it only fair that you are getting a sign to get your act together.

Acts based on fairness or the lack of it inevitably have consequences. And these conbsequences leave a path of destruction in its wake, tearing up people from the inside, without leaving any outwardly sign. Nothing to let others know about the tormentor inside them. Consequence and circumstance are above any form of judgement, aren't they?

There is no right no wrong no fair no unfair consequence or circumstance. When circumstance rules everything that you do, and that in turn leads to a consequence you wouldn't have foreseen...shouldn't your actions be above such judgement as well??

F#$% the scousers, I'll walk alone

It’s a really nice experience travelling on your own. But staying at a place for a while is something different, especially if you had something important coming up soon. As such times, the pressure gets to you. It’s just you, the butterflies in your stomach and the beat of your heart nearly cracking your ribs open. Of course, writing can help. Staying alone has been something that I wanted to do for a long time. Now that I’m here, it’s not as rosy as it sounds.

Sure it’s all good when you are roaming the streets, with all the time in the world. Time can turn against you if you are alone in a room chewing your fingernails. Time just seemed to stand still the night before. It then began to go on fast forward on the day of the quiz. I took my mind off things by watching a chick-flick marathon on TV (27 Dresses was ok-ok, while Brittany Murphy was damn cute in Uptown Girls) The hands of the clock finally aligned themselves at that angle which said that it was finally time for what I had originally come here for. We were cabbed off (as opposed to carted off) to the venue. I found myself in a room with nine others who were to be my opponents for the evening. The shoot was scheduled for 530pm on the 19^th , it started promptly at 0000hrs on the 20^th. (Another night quiz…YEAH!! I thank the NITs and IIT-M for all the all nighters that they so proudly pull off year after year) The only thing lacking was some good ‘ol fuel (I know where the apostrophe is, yes).

Once the quiz got over, I got shutter happy and got myself a few snaps with the God of quizzing, Siddhartha Basu himself. I cannot express that feeling in words. Let’s just say elation is a gross understatement. Those moments were the ones that I dreamt of when I was a 12 year old watching colleges battle it out in University Challenge and watching perspiring aspirants take the daunting black chair in Mastermind India.

I had a flight to catch quite early the next day, and true to my tradition I was again 2 hours early for my flight back home. The Delhi airport waiting area is magnificent. I spent all my time gazing out at planes taxiing down to a halt. The late nighter coupled with the early flight meant that sleep was a luxury more than anything else. I did however manage to catch 20 or so winks on the plane back home. At those times when I couldn’t sleep, well I wrote this post.

Yeh Dilli hain mere yaar!!

I seem to ink paper these days only when I step out of the cozy confines of the 4 towers that figuratively make up the boundaries of this city. This time, I headed all the way up north to the Capital City. Participation in a Sport Quiz to be telecasted on DD loomed large. Let me honest, I could feel my heart beating against my ribs for quite some time then. The mother city seemed to give me a slightly tongue in cheek farewell as the mercury plummeted quite significantly right after I left. I couldn’t help but muse “From the oven into the furnace?”

The drive to Bengaluru (Yech!!! Call her Bangalore anyday!!) International Airport is a treat to the eyes. Gazing out to the open road sitting in comfort of those red beauties listening to classic rock was in a word. Brilliant! I should point out that getting to the airport a solid 2 hours prior to the departure of your flight is an awesome indicator of joblessness. The thought that I was travelling by myself kept my excitement levels high amidst the doldrums of waiting for a delayed flight.

There was a considerable difference in the flying experience this time around. There were no screens on the seats, no Yana Gupta in a hot red uniform giving safety instructions. The co-passenger jinx seemed to continue as a member of the fairer sex was nowhere to be found in the vicinity of my seat. A typical Tam family took the seats next to mine. To put a further dampner on proceedings, pretty girls in skirts made way for “Stewards”. Moral of the Story – Do NOT fly JetLite.

A quick lunch at the hotel was followed by making acquaintances with whom I could tour the city.

We made our way to the commercial hub of Delhi by the famed Delhi Metro. I was dumbstruck at the sight of the sleek steel chassis and the Oh so awesome interiors. I pointed this out again and again to R ( who replied “BITTCCHHH!!! NICE!” ), P (“Thoo zoda, die creep) and S ( “ hmmm…nice kano!!” at well timed intervals)

If you haven’t really liked what you have seen of Delhi in the first few hours that you are there, Connaught Place is sure to change that. An awesome mix of roadside stores and established businesses shared the corridors of buildings that still retained the original European architecture. Me being who I am, was on the lookout for food. Food is something that we Bangaloreans take for granted. I found this out the hard way when I asked a dude in my best Hindi, “Bhai Saab, idhar koi chaatwale hain kya?” He merely laughed at me. We then made our way to Haldiram’s. This outlet had nearly every sweet under the sun. We then made our way to a bookstore, where I was left gaping after being unceremoniously thrown out because it was 8pm. Closing time you see. 8pm, honestly???!!!

As we made our way back ( I officially LOVE DELHI METRO!!!) that each city has its own characteristics. Mumbai is a city that never sleeps. Namma Ooru has the “Swalpa adjusht Maadi” culture. In that vein, Delhi seems to be a city that’s always in a hurry. It was a strange sight to see commuters run after alighting the train.

Now that’s a sight that puzzles you and makes you stand still.

Ironic isn’t it?

My White Whale- Part 2

Time, something that is infinitely abundant yet, we seem to have so little of. Time, something that is there for all to possess yet something that we want to have all to ourselves.

How many 20 year olds, all of whom crave for time in the entirety of its above qualities ie both in abundance and in exclusivity, get exactly that ? ( @pjux im not talking to you)

I wanted to make maximum use of the time that I was finally awarded.

I found a lot of time for introspection. I realized that I was an extremely fidgety traveler. I cannot sit still for more than a few minutes. My neighbour on the bus must have wondered if I was epileptic. I also found out that I panic quite easily when I’m by myself and encounter a small hiccup. (A simple case of putting my wallet in the wrong compartment of my bag proved this.)

Astonishingly, I put to rest the phantoms I had about feeling lonely if I were alone. In fact I never even felt alone for a moment never mind being lonely. I also found in myself a never before seen patience and a sense of complete peace. I was content ambling along the rocky shore with a camera in my hand and nothing at all on my mind.

I also found this Café by the beach simply called Le Café. I decided I would exercise my expertise i.e being pseud, and paid it a visit. I ordered a coffee, opened out my faithful Reader’s Digest, an even more faithful diary and started writing this very post.

I suddenly found coffee to be quite amusing. It is equivalent to Marilyn Monroe looking for revenge. Some like it Hot, while some say it is best served cold. But a hot coffee going cold, that leaves an amazing taste in your mouth. Time too is not that different, some enjoy the heat in their faces as time sprints while some would like time to freeze and live in that moment forever. However pacing yourself in such a way that time has a gentle flow that you are totally taken in, that’s the best feeling I’ve ever had.

My White Whale- Part 1

Call me Soda. There is something in me that inexplicably draws me to the Sea. It has always been this way. I decided to (Actually its I was ALLOWED to) travel to a quaint little town that is within the borders of our (maybe not so) dear neighbor (and definitely not my home state) of Tamil Nadu.

I was supposed to travel to this town of Puducherry (means New Cherry). In case you are still wondering, THAT is its name ever since Apple filed a couple of naming rights suits, thus forcing the local people to drop its old name of Pond-i-cherry. Apple felt that this name insulted the nomenclature it followed for naming its products as well as associating such a nomenclature with a rival fructal entity. It was a double whammy they simply could not take. Also an Apple representative who wished to remain unnamed claimed that “ Pond-i-cherry” maybe mispronounced “pawned-i-cherry” or “paan d’ i-cherry”, both forms of pronunciation may indicate thoughts that any apple(y) products will be sold off cheaply or thupped out rather unceremoniously. The latter form of pronunciation is also a dedic to the rich French influence over the place.

I was supposed to meet my cousins there rather early in the morning. But Lady Luck decided to show me her pearly whites and deemed it fine that they stay put in good old Chennai (for a good portion of the morning atleast) while I walked the streets of Pondy alone. (I could say Walk the streets of Pudu alone, but it wouldn’t be the same would it ?)

I got off the bus, camera dangling with the hope that I would see the Sun rise from the horizon for the first time in 2 years, and probably for the only time in the next 2 years. Sadly the clouds invited me to a little game of hide and seek. I dutifully counted to a 100, the clouds were spotted with ease. I accepted defeat after a while and so the Sun decided to show itself from behind the clouds. Losing was never this sweet. The Sun then struck some magnificent poses with the waves playing a beautiful score in the background. I felt it best to keep mum, and let my shutter give muted responses to the sights and sounds offered.

This was but one perk that I had with the time I had on hand. Time that I found exclusively for myself was a rare luxury that I didn’t want to waste. It was my white whale. And finally after what seemed to be an eternity, I finally got to examine time.