live like there was no tomorrow

May be, sometimes it is better not to think of the present,past and future,
And escape the shackles of logic and explanation....
To converge all my energy to this one moment,and embellish it with all my zeal..
To converge all my desires to this one moment,and live like there was no tomorrow...

Love is in the air

When I took up to studying, @ 26, everyone was shocked.
“What? Studies now? When will u marry?
Although it wasn’t a pre-planned decision it wasn’t a thoughtless one either. I was convinced about it (I am still :D).

But some people seem unnecessarily worried about my marriage. And it takes me by surprise when somebody of my generation, comments something like,” Teja, you should have got married? All this MBA and all is good to say just coz u don’t have love in your life" So my dearest Friend this is for you ... not that m proving you anything , but if you read this and are able to identify love I will be happy...
I am deliberately not mentioning any names in this one.

When I come home from college, mom opens door for me with a smile in her eyes, I know she was waiting for her baby. Isn’t it Love?
When I come home, the 1st person I ask about is about my sis ... I have to find her around. Isn’t it Love?
When we friends meet , not at all times I am very comfortable .But there is one person among us not by my side, but overlooking things carefully, I look at him and he winks back, I know m taken care of. Isn’t it Love?
When I was working with Infy, we roommates fought on every small thing on this earth, dustbins to kitchen sinks to food and laundry, we would not see at each other when on bus stop, but by the time we reached breakfast table, we would be eating from each other’s plates. :) And by the time we reached back home again, we had thousand updates from the day’s happenings. If we were to stay together today also, history would repeat. Haahaa! But isn’t it Love?
One ex- roomy read a poem on ‘Sisters’, having had a brother, she mailed me from across seven oceans. :D . She thought I could fit the bill. Isn’t it Love?
We had our ups and downs in career .For long months office seemed the last place to be on earth, but we looked forward to lunch and breakfast tables get together. It kept us going in life. All of were sailing in same boat and the sea was not always calm. But we together kept sailing. Isn’t it Love?
When I quit Infy , another of my roomies wrote to me something which was more than compliment, "Tejashree, you have touched my life. Not many people can do it." I really don’t know how I did it for her in five months that we shared.
When I was preparing for MBA entrance exams, there was a friend who taught me. He was a MBA aspirant himself , but he taught me willingly, dedicatedly , I owe him my good results. How could he be so selfless? When he was in problem, he just mentioned me once; I couldn’t do much for him, so I prayed for him. My prayers were answered. The glee in his voice, brought smile to my face. Isn’t it Love?
We sit for projects till late. At times I have missed my meals, but my friend makes it a point to pack me a burger; this goes without saying. Isn’t it Love?
A friend recently got posted to Mumbai. My heart leaped with joy, we were already talking like we were together, me scolding him for the lost times and he listening to all my complaints. Isn’t it Love?
At slightest hint of me being disheartened , another friend will drop me (his bachu) a call immediately . I wonder what makes him do that. Isn't it love ?
Recently two love birds in our group finally decided they wanted to be together for life. All of us were so happy for them . Isn’t it Love?
I never even dreamt I would find a guy who would write poems for me...heehee, but I did. Unfortunately I never fell for him....”To be loved and dreaded it is better than to be lived and not loved” he said ... true my friend!!!
I loved a guy,
Thought of him day and night, Missed him at all sights
Laughed for him, Cried for him
Prayed for him.
But this time he didn’t reciprocate. But then doesn’t my love still remain love?
With a broken heart when I was sitting in cafeteria all alone, a friend walked in and asked what had happened? I told I had been let down. He said, "Teja be happy, you had the guts to face your love and courage to stand for it. You are a man. Even guys can’t do it. I am proud of u" that changed my world. Isn’t it Love?
The old Granny I mentioned in second blog, I met her the other day, as usual we exchanged smiles. This time she opened her bag, gave me a small fistful of mogra. She had very little with her ,but she had the power to give . The fragrance filed in my life .Isn’t it Love ?

Dear friend there is enough love around ... reciprocate it. :D

Magik!!!

Was watching 'Rock On' after long time today and the climax; it really rocks man!!!

"Uske the jo sapne , wahi uske the apne , SINDBAD THE SAILOR!!!"

My own memory started reeling back to the time when the movie was newly released. One afternoon when we were having lunch in B7 FC Pune Ph1 , Infosys Technologies Ltd . Me , Smitha ,Rashmi , Akhi , Javed, Gaurav ( and not sure if anyone else was there, please do remind me ) .. Rash & Vivek had watched the movie over the weekend and of all things to talk, she came up with question why is it Sindbad the Sailor??? Gossh how did it matter? BANG!!! Guys had topic to pull her legs.

Akhi: Right, it should have been Popeye!!!

Gaurav : ..... Popeye the sailor man ...

(Gaurav managed to sing it to the tune of sindbad the sailor)

Akhi : Poooooooo

Roar of laughter.

Guys didn’t leave a leaf unturned in takings rash's case ; on how witty she is, the new gold adlabs , its cushion seats , free popcorn, everything was dragged in. our laughter volume had hit the roof by then.

But this was the usual scene on our lunch table. Of course the size had now reduced from 3 tables to 1. Some of our folks had quit Infy and others were onsite. But that never got our enthu down. Ours used to be the nosiest table in the whole food court. At times people used to give us looks. BUT!! WHO CARED??? We always had a topic to laugh on .Managers who claimed to have super natural powers, babes who over did their make ups, gossips, Infy policies, HR jokes, TV soaps, roomies chat, updates about friends sitting on other side of globe, Vivek-Rashmi after marriage jokes, pati patni and WOH (read Praveen) jokes, Javed and baddy court stories, mimicries, Smitha's before marriage jokes ;) :P, my own fights with Akhi ; the topics never seemed to end. And by chance if at all someday all the funny things in the world decided to hit the bottom of the sea, we would remember old jokes and laugh a new laugh.

HO HO HO!!!

We all being foodies lunch trips often went beyond campus to andhra mess or Tammna. At times they were even followed a small ice cream party in Infy lawns. It was like revisiting our childhoods again.

Not that all of us were going through best of life all through these years. But it was as if some observed protocol, no one ever discussed their problems on lunch tables. And probably that is what made the lunch times so enjoyable. And not just that, for me personally they made me go on in life for quite some time. My only motivation on such days used to be a small get together during lunch. That one hour instilled the feeling that everything would be well.

There was some magik in it !!!

Who Says Life is Fair ? Its up to U to make it Fair

"Kashya aahat Aaji?” (How are you, Granny?) , I called out, as I reached the platform to take Virar local. The pace of this city rarely gives u chance to wait back and say hello even to your neighbour, forget strangers. But yes, you manage to quench your thirst for socialising in the crowd packed local trains. I figured out two reasons for this. One you get a bigger pool of people to select from and second it is the best way to pass 2 hours of journey which is a daily task. I have also picked some moss rolling my way through these electrifying lanes.
Aaji always took 8:34 pm Virar local. Today it seemed she had missed it. "Aaj ushir zala.”(I got late today) she replied with a smile. She must be in her 60s or 70s.She had a face most delicate, pale and very lovely. Bent figure, wrinkled face, deep eyes, in which lied the experience of long ages. Meeting your look, she would smile, a smile full of warmth. Her white sari was faded and rugged, clearly indicating her not so good conditions, yet very clean and neat. Her stuff neatly packed in a worn-out bag. Train halted. She took her seat on the floor near the door.
Just then another lady asked, "Why do you work at this old age?"
Aaji replied, “What to do? I have to earn my living. But I am used to. I have done that all my life. Now I cannot sit at home idle. "
Like most grandparents love telling their stories, she started narrating hers. "I started working at age of seven, by helping my mom who was a house maid. Later I got married at fifteen. And as is the case in many low income households, my husband was a drunkard and died because of it. As such I had to take my own and my son’s responsibility. I lost my young 25 yr old son in a train accident. As such, I have to earn my living."
She begins her day at 4:00 am, with filling water. Water supply in Mumbai is restricted to some 1-2 hours especially in slums and chawls and the water timings are usually this weird. She and her sister then have tea with 2 Parle G biscuits, which is along with a banana at night is their only meal for the whole day. Her sister earns her living by doing some household work. At her age no one would offer her that work. She works in small scale packaging firm in Dadar. Although the firm manager does not give her any work, he pays her the wages for the efforts she takes to reach there every day. Alas! I thought, there are few good people around.
I got back to reading my book again. But the thought of her, lingered in my mind for long. I could sense there was some silence around. No not out of pity. Why should anyone pity her, when she herself didn’t? Possibly it was out of self introspection that everyone was doing, just like me. Here I was complaining and whining about small things in life. How mean I am I felt. I felt my insides churn. Poverty, grief, struggle neither could bring down this lady’s self respect. At her age she could have easily taken up to begging, asking for help and donations. But she still prefers to earn her living. She has the willingness and courage to face the world, start life all new. And even more she never had complaints from life. She taught me how life was full of hope. Very few people can make a difference to your life. She had in some way touched mine. Her smile was a tight slap in face of all those people who cry life is unfair. Who says life is fair? Life was always unfair. It’s up to us to make it fair.

Yeh Hai Mumbai Meri Jaan!

"Why do they have to keep 8:00 am lectures?” I complain as I read my timetable for next day. Despite all complaints, my usual day begins by running for 7:08 Dadar local, which actually comes 2 MINs early (god knows what’s wrong with that motorman... somebody tell him its Mumbai...Here every minute counts!). If at all I manage to take that train, my next complaint is "Hell!!!! There is no place to stand at 7:00 in morning!! Where is India’s population going?".
Day full of complaints, one after the other. Hello!!!! I Love my life and I looooove Mumbai!!

But this morning as I picked the newspaper on my way to college, I read something that made me think. "Mumbaikars die younger than other Indians” read TOI headlines (on Nov3 2009). It immediately caught my attention. Was it just another attractive headline or a real piece of news? Do they mean that mumbaikars die young at heart? I proceeded to read. It was real news full of facts and figures based on survey report from National Resource Centre for Urban Poverty and the All India Institute of Local Self Government, Mumbai.

"What bullshit?” How was that possible? After all this is "Amchi Mumbai". Mumbai... country's financial capital, fashion hub, the city which has never say die spirit, city that never sleeps, city of dreams. City that has survived riots, bomb blasts, rains but it never stopped functioning. City of bollywood... whose spirit has been depicted in countless movies and songs. City of Arabian Sea, of Rajabai Tower and of Hanging Gardens. After all these adjectives that had been conferred on the city, how can some survey claim that mumbaikars die younger than other Indians and not by year or two but 7 years younger than other Indians. And 12 years than others in Maharashtra.

I am a born mumbaite. In short I hail from Mumbai coz my parents lived here. All my life I read great things about Mumbai and felt proud of city I lived in. You name it and its here. Its either a step away or a phone call away. All my life I took for granted all the facilities that came as a part of living in big city. Best schools and colleges at door step, best shopping malls, best food joints, best movie places , best jobs, etc. (one benefit of staying in Mumbai also meant no power cuts).

Later I had to leave Mumbai for job, although unwillingly. As part of the job I stayed in Hyderabad initially and then Pune for 3 years. For the first time I had a chance to meet different people from different states\cities. For the 1st time I understood what diversity in India meant. Got a chance to taste different cuisines, learnt different languages. Even there, we all mumbaikars flocked together. And whenever the talks of our hometown sprang, we all ganged up to fight for Mumbai. By the nature of it, the knack of talking that we had, we also managed to win. Most of our friends from other cities looked at us the COOL people and as though we came from WONDERLA!

Not everyone was from big cities, neither did everyone had life served on gold platter. But all them had equal talent and equal chance to prove (in terms of job\ career at least). But I realised there was one major difference. All these people had learnt one very important thing in life, to sit back and relax. To find time for themselves and their close ones. My life was still running, and I behind it to somehow get hold of it. Although my mom always complains that staying out of Mumbai has taught me to waste time.

Today when I am back in Mumbai, I don’t seem to like anything about it. Living life on edge, scrambling for a toehold on trains, honking ones way from bumper to bumper, fighting to find roof over ones head, Sound decibels that leave you deaf, Fresh air that is scant even in wee hours in jogging parks, by the way where are the jogging parks? Is this what we call life? Is this the life we strive for? In race for life we have forgotten to take a breather.
By now the train had reached Dadar. People rushed at the compartment doors to jump out of train before it halted, so that there were fewer crowds on overhead bridge. By the time the train halted on the station, there was sea of people gushing out of the platform. Like an army of ants out of an ant hill. I too hopped out, to reach out for another connecting train. Yehi hai mumbai meri jaan!

My First Blog

Taking up studies again meant having loads of free time during lectures. Also meant reading a lot. What i read, what i see often comes out in form of thoughts. For a long time i have been thinking of blogging. Finally the thought materializes today . yeppie!!!!!

Hopefully i continue with this creative string in comming times.
And more importantly it gives you readers the same pleasure as it gives me in writing .
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to persons living or dead may or may not be purely coincidental.