Here I Go Again...

They call it 'May Day', or Labour's Day, more apt in my case, for the simple reason that I had to literally labour my way through it. Getting an extra day off in a week is a topic on which I have been thinking to write a mini- thesis on for so long. The thing is, every different day that is declared a holiday has a special significance. 

If it's a Monday, then well, it couldn't have been better. I mean, c'mon man, you just got rid of atleast one 'Monday Morning Blues' from your life! Also, Monday being a holiday means an extended weekend. What more can a poor Professional Guy ask from life.

Now when Tuesday's an off, the Professional Guy in us goes for a ride. You start thinking of how to convince your boss for taking Monday as a 'sandwich off' from work. And then either you fall sick, or you've got a Doc's appointment, or best, you've got an 'important engagement' to attend to. Afterall, taking a day off again gives you the luxury of a long weekend.

Wednesday as a holiday is actually a curse in disguise. It's like, after a weekend of raising your 'spirits' well, you again brace yourself for yet another week of the same old stuff, the deadlines, the tickets, the business needs, the SLAs, and as soon as you have gained enough momentum by slogging through Tuesday, you come to a road block, an obstacle, a pothole. You curse Shivaji, or Gandhi, or Ambedkar, for having been born on such an 'inauspicious' day.

Thursday is an altogether different story. An off on a Thursday is like an eight minute pitstop in an F1 race- it just can't be digested. Though it's afterall a break, and ought to 'feel good' about it and all that crap, the fact remains that as soon as you had come to terms with the fact that there was no escaping this gruelling week, and that the weekend was right there in front of you, came your Tricky Thursday.

And well, the sweetest, most sought after, is ofcourse our very own Friday. It's like the hot air hostess who lives on the fourteenth floor in your building- it's the hottest thing that can happen to you, everyone wants it, and it can take you to places... ; ) 

Anyway, coming back to my story, this extended weekend was a sad affair as I am concerned. I mean, who wakes up at ten in the morning, sunlight in your face, waking to a bittersweet (mostly bitter) headache, even though you didn't get drunk last night? The whole day, though passed uneventfully, maybe it was the 'uneventfulness' of it all that made it all the more annoying. This is the problem with holidays, other than the weekends ofcourse. With weekends, everything is sorta planned, you know. But when an extra day comes as a break, it kinda disrupts the little amount of order that you thought was there in your life. You either try to while time away in front of the TV, or wash all the clothes you see around you, or simply lie down on the bed, seeing the fan, trying to count the number of blades on it. Oh wait, fans have only three blades. Dude, you are boredom personified.

It turns out the weekend that wasn't too weekend-ey for me. Maybe, I need to develop more hobbies, or make more friends, or call more people. But then again, in this search of Things-to-do to keep myself 'busy', I actually lost the whole idea of the weekend, which was to run away from the always busy telephone line that life has become..

Errata

This is in regard to the last post I made on this blog regarding the section 49-O. As it turns out, there is no such act in the constitution,and it is a recommendation in the Conduct of Election Rules 1961. For all of you who are actually interested in the whole story, it can be found here. Check out under article 49-O on this page. Also, check out the comments on my last post, which has got some details related to this too. 

P.S-Mehul, thanks for bringing it to light. I myself found about it a little later, and was actually planning to put up the real story, but still.

P.S again- Lesson learnt. Never post anything without going into the details of it!

A Startling Discovery

"We were worried because the 'men' came through boat. We should rather be more worried for the men who come through our vote."

This is a line am quoting from the mail one of my friends sent me just yesterday. And the major portion of this post is also from that mail, which talks about an important yet comfortably invisible clause from our Constitution. 

As per a 1969 amendment in our Constitution, a section called '49 O' gives the right to a person to go to the polling booth during elections, confirm his identity, get his finger marked and convey to the presiding officer that he doesn't want to vote for any candidate!

The most obvious question one would then ask is, why should I take so much pain in going to the polling booth if am not going to vote for anyone in the first place? Well, that's the beauty of the act.  Suppose if a candidate wins, say by 123 votes, and that particular ward has received "49-O" votes more than 123, then that polling will be cancelled and will have to be re-polled. Not only that, but the candidature of the contestants will be removed and they cannot contest the re-polling, since people had already expressed their decision on them. This means that if people decide unanimously that the candidate is not even fit for standing in the election, then they can act accordingly and further see that he doesn't even get to recontest on the same seat in the same election. 

This fantastic revelation immediately poses a question. Why is the public not intimated about this act from the Election Commission, when it is clear that such an act needs to be known to everyone in order to see that the right candidate gets chosen? Is it somekind of a trick that the politicans have played upon us, so that we do not ever get to know that there is another option at our disposal?

After the recent terror attacks on Mumbai, the Common Man has become quite vocal about everything, and we have been hearing many instances where the people do not shy away from expressing their angst at the politicians. My point is, isn't this section 49-O a better alternative than the cries of 'We won't vote at all' that we have been hearing from the masses? 

On another front, there has been reports that the Pakistani media has started accusing India of blaming Pakistan for the terror attack falsingly. But if seen objectively, and looking at the evidences, it is quite clear that the terrorists had definite links with Karachi. Then on what base is the Pakistan media even debating on this issue? They have gone so far so as to say that this attack is by an Indian agency.

But on the other hand, I went through a few posts by some Pakistan citizens on the terror attack, which can be viewed here. These people also have a point. They say that maybe the attack was staged in a way which would point towards the terrorist group's link with Pakistan, in order to increase the enmity between the two nations. On rational thinking, this can not be ruled out in entirety,when you consider the fact that the evidences that have been gathered from the attack are too damning. I mean, its like they want us to believe its Pakistan.

At this juncture, it's kinda hard to decide on who is actually behind it, with so many arguments pouring in form all corners. The point is, whoever it is, half of their purpose is already served, in having created terror in the nation. I just hope it was the end, and that there's no other half of their motive left, like letting the two nations battle it out in a gruesome war against each other, which might be the real end they want to achieve. Reading the posts of the Pakistani people, one more thing comes to mind, that not all Pakistanis are against India. It's the political situation that's probably making things worse. But the bottomline is, that it is the Indian Man who has suffered. And we need an answer, and fast. It's hightime the politics is set aside, and politicians start turning into real 'leaders'. Signing off on a confused and a hopeful note.

It's Time now...

It's time we shed the cloak of resilience, and unveil our face, that is red with rage, and an urge to get an answer. It's time we come out of our houses and be our own Security. It's time we show the politicians of India that we are not a deaf-mute society. It's time...

Was reading the Times Of India yesterday, when came across yet another article on the Mumbai Terrorist attack. It said that if the total count of all those who were killed in the incident was taken, it crosses the 257 deaths that were reported in the terror attacks on Mumbai local trains in 2006, which makes it the biggest terrorist attack on the country ever. And still, it is a matter of shame and shock to note that our ministers still claim it to be a Choti si baat . I don't think it takes much intellect to comprehend the magnitude of the situation the country is in right now. Bombs have been going off in the length and breadth of the country, and all we have been hearing from our 'leaders' are requests to maintain calm and patience. And everytime a city like Mumbai is under such a situation, they laud the city's 'spirits' of moving on. What the hell...

I second the question that has been doing the rounds everywhere, that why are the NSG commandoes stationed only in Delhi? It is a shocking revelation that after the terrorists acted in Taj Hotel, it took the NSG forces somewhere around nine and half hours to reach the scene! And it is known for a fact that terror attacks get out of hand as time passes, coz the terrorists start to form 'bases' as they get to know the scene better. With due credits to our gallant NSG commandoes and Armymen who put in their heart and soul in saving the lives of our fellow countrymen, this is a question to the unending bureaucracy in our country. Is it so difficult to station the troops at major cities, so that in need of emergency, they can be deployed at the scene faster?

I would also like to ask a question to Mr Raj Thackerey and MNS workers, that where are they now, now that their very own 'Aamchi Mumbai' is trampled under the merciless foot of indiscrimating terrorism? Maybe not enough 'Marathi Manoos' were killed in this attack so as to wake MNS up from their deep slumber. And what is amusingly sad is that even after the attack is over, and now that Mumbai is safer for the moment, the MNS clan is not coming out, not even to wipe the blood and tears off the faces of thousands of people across the city. So much for their calls of doing or dying for their motherland...

The leaders of all parties are facing the wrath of people from all over the country. And few are even pleading us for support as they 'too are only human, a common man just like all of us', as a prominent leader was heard saying. But if they too are common men like us, why is it that they get to come in private 'Government' choppers and fleets of cars to 'sympathise' with us in times like now, but the real heroes of the moment, the National Security Guards are forced to leave the scene in dilapidated BEST buses? Though a very insignificant observation, it needs to be pondered upon.

The main question of the hour, though, is that what needs to be done by us, the Stupid Common Man? A friend of mine, in one of his blogs, raised a very correct point. He said that we always shout at the system for not giving us the security it should. But we always easily overlook the fact that it is us who needs to be aware of our responsibilities too. When we are checked by metal detectors outside malls, we bicker and crib. But when the same mall explodes to tatters, we blame the government. It is our moral responsibility to see that we are helping the system do its work , instead of hindering it. I don't know what the answer to these acts of terrorism would be given by India, but what I do know is that it is high time that we let the system know, that we are watching, and that we are willing to help it in curbing terrorism. And the system must also realise, that it's TIME now...

  

Two boys and a Key

With a small key in his left hand, and the lid of a pickle jar, both smuggled out from his home, Chotu was digging at the ground near the community park with fervour. His friend, Sriram, was sitting with him, watching him with a look mixed with annoyance and surprise at the same time. "What are you digging for? You know, we could have played two overs in this time," Sriram said. "Just watch, I will dig a hole here, and we will bury this key, and we will come back and dig here in ten days to see if the key's still there", Chotu exclaimed rather excitedly. "What sort of game is this? And where did you get the key anyway?". "It is from the fridge in my home. My Mom never locks it, so I thought to take it", said Chotu. "You know,that's stealing"."No, it's not. Now will you help me in digging?", shouted Chotu. Sriram, seeing no other option, got down besides him and started to dig with his hands.

Chotu and Sriram were studying in 3rd standard. In their locality, they were the only ones from the class, and so became friends out of need. They would play cricket together. Chotu brought the bat and ball, and so always tried to bully Sriram into bowling for him all the time. But Chotu, being actually tiny, had to give in finally. Together they did some weird things together, like puncturing the tyres of cycles kept in their blocks' garage, inventing new games when they got bored of playing cricket all the time and what not. They used to interchange their tiffins, coz Chotu liked to eat South Indian food, and Sriram had a soft spot for Poha and Aloo Paratha. 

After they were done digging a decent hole, Chotu put the key in the hole, and filled the tiny pit with soil and leveled it. 

"Let's go play now. We can still play a few overs", coaxed Sriram. "Alright, but I will bat first", said Chotu. Sriram, not in a mood to argue, said "Fine", and off they went. 

That night, Chotu was lying in bed, staring at the fan, and counting numbers in his head, which his mom had told him, was a good idea to do when one was not able to sleep. 237,238...I hope Mom doesn't find out about the key that I nicked...239,240,241....But what if somebody saw me hiding that key there today? Sandeep Mandeep, the two brothers were playing nearby, did they see me?...242....243....244....245...I don't know why Mummy always asks me to have milk before sleeping. I bet that's the reason I have those scary dreams all night long....246......247.........248......Why do I have to go to school everyday? Oh Yes, tomorrow's first class is English. Nisha Ma'am is so nice..249..............250......Why does the fan have only 3 wings? Had it got more wings, it would have given more air na?.......251............

After three days, as Sriram was shouting out his name from below, Chotu hit her sister, who was just five, on her head, and as she started crying, he came running out. "We'll go to the park today and get that key". "What?I thought we were going to play cricket today. You said we would play 8-8 overs each!", cried Sriram. "Haan,but first the key. I want to see if it's still there". "Where will it go anyway?"."I don't know. Chal lets hurry." Sriram, being the less cribbing one of the two, gave in and followed him to the park. They found the spot, and started digging, but soon realised that either they had lost the spot where they had put the key, or the key was actually not there. "Leave it, some dog or something might have dug it out", said Sriram. "What will a dog do with a key?", retorted Chotu, now annoyed, both coz of Sriram and the fact that he couldn't find the key. 

It was half past seven, and both were heading back to their homes, Chotu in tension. "What if Mom asks me about the key? She saw me playing with it once. What will I say?". "Ayyo baba, she won't ask. And if she does, tell her your sister might have thrown it down from the balcony",suggested Sriram. "Ya I can say that. But...". Sriram said,"Okay wait here, I will go up to my home and come back in two mins". "Why?What for?"."Arre wait na, I am coming", said Sriram as he ran upstairs. He was back in five mins, with a small key in his hand. Panting, he said,"Here,take this". "Who's key is this?", asked Chotu. "It's the key to my fridge. There are two of them, and this one was kept in my study table's drawer", said Sriram. "You have a study table??", exclaimed Chotu. "Ya Appa got me one, though I don't use it to study. I fall asleep whenever I sit on it.Now go". Chotu was confused. But he went home and put the key where it was previously kept.

That night, he was not able to sleep again, and so was staring at the fan, and counting. 443,444,445...Sriram is such an idiot. Why did he give me his key?..446,447,448...What if his Mom scolds him for giving it to me?...449,450..He shouldn't have done that...451,452...Did he do it because I am his friend?...453..What was it that Nisha Ma'am said about friend when teaching the chapter three? A friend in need...454...what was it again?....455...Oh I can't remember. Will ask Sriram tomorrow if he does....456..457.....458..Maybe he is not an idiot afterall...459...460...What if the key does not fit in our fridge? I forgot to check that!...461....462....Will have to check it tomorrow morning before Mummy wakes up.....463...........  

Thank You for No Smoking

Just the day before, as the country celebrated the 139th birth anniversary of the Father of the Nation, many eyes silently dropped a tear or two to express their anguish. Before your mind conjures up  any weird reason, let me add that the sorrow was borne out of a new law that has been enforced all over the country with effect from yesterday. Yes all you 120 million smokers, my heart goes out to you!

This is not for the first time that Supreme Court, the ever powerful and one of the very few Governmental bodies left in the country which is still sane, has passed a nationwide law with immediate and strict effect. Since time immemorial, we have been hearing about laws to make helmets compulsory, to prohibit drinking and driving and what not. But the problem, as many of us might have realised already, is that a law passed by the Legislative is like a donkey laden with luggage. It will not budge from its place unless its master, the Judiciary, takes the control in his hands. We have successfully managed to send many such laws down the drain owing to the 'Law Enforcers' not taking care of implementing it strictly. 

But just second day into the imposition, I am glad to find that this law is being revered the way a law should be. As I entered my office premises today, various flyers stating 'Smoking here is a legal offence' welcomed me. Even more surprising yet gratifying was the way the general public was reacting to it. Instead of it being just another rule that people hardly care to follow, I was amused when I actually overheard two of the senior officials at work talking in hushed voices about a place that was 'safe' for smoking! And after a few surreptitious glances here and there, they exited to have a smoke and 'relax', as many call it.

I have never had any special liking to smoking, nor any loathing towards smokers. But I always believe that sooting your lungs and calling it 'style' is actually gross. The other day, I was at a fancy restaurant with some of my friends. There was a special menu for cigars and cigarettes there. You would call me names if I said that a certain brand of cigar, just one piece of it, was priced at 1100 bucks! I mean, c'mon man, my monthly mess bill back in college was sometimes less than that! But the fact remains that people actually spend filthily when it comes to smoking. 

I have actually never stopped anyone from smoking. I have never even advised anyone on the ill-effects of smoking. Two reasons. One, everybody already knows smoking's not good for health. So no point me giving a discourse on that. Two, I think its everyone's personal choice. I don't know if this ban on smoking in public places would do any good to the smokers. But to the non-smokers, this is really a welcome respite from being forced to smoke passively. The question to ask now would be as to how far the Supreme Court and the Government succeed in making India a No-Smoking Zone... 

The Window

'There's something about the window', Chotu always thought. It was so difficult to be one. I mean, who has the patience to wait all night long for the sun to rise, so that all the dew droplets collected on it could get evaporated? Or who has so much stoicism so as to look at the roaring storm outside with so much silence, when all there was inside was cosyness and warmth? Who has the perspective to hear simultaneously the cacophony of children playing cricket outside, and the TV churning out news after boring news inside?  
As he opened his eyes, Chotu saw a sparrow sitting on the window pane. Sun had risen hours ago, and was staring at him, as if making fun of him. Very reluctantly, he got out of the bed. He wished he was a window instead. 'It would have been so much more fun', he always thought. Afterall, Life for an EIGHT year old is no fun, right??!
He reached school ten minutes late. The Morning Assembly had begun. He was so scared. It was for the first time that he was so late. Generally, he managed to be inside school premises just as the morning prayer started. He looked at Lallu Bhai, the school Peon, as if trying to bribe him into letting him in through his innocent looks. But Lallu Bhai, having been working in the school for the past eleven years, knew each and every student like the back of his hand. Chotu didn't get any concession, and was made to stand outside the school till the assembly dispersed. Then, after being done with getting scolded by the teacher-in-charge of the assembly, he made his way to the classroom.

The teacher had not yet arrived. There was the usual hullabaloo that is there in a typical third graders' classroom. As he entered the class, the usual sight of two sardar boys beating up a timid looking chap greeted him. He shouted,'Sandeep Mandeep, leave him alone.' But the command, or pleading rather, got drowned in the noise. Before he could muster the courage to try to save Nirmal, the teacher entered the class, and everyone sat in their places. As he sat next to Vinaya, he felt annoyed at the teacher yet again, for making him sit next to a girl. I mean, how can you sit next to a girl!! They were so organised with their homework, were teacher's pets, and always made him look like an idiot in front of the teachers. Just as he sat, Vinaya smiled and said,' Can you write my name on this sticker?'. He was always asked to write people's names on their stickers, coz he had a fairly good handwriting. Suddenly, the annoyance vanished, and he wrote her name with a special flair, adding a wiggly tail to the V. 'Girls are not so bad, afterall!', he realised.

The Maths class got over uneventfully. Next was music. Chotu always wanted to sing. Everytime a new music teacher came to their school, he made sure to approach him to get inducted into his list of students-who-can-sing. But everytime he appeared for an 'audition' for the same, he was just asked to do one thing. 'Beta, Sa lagao' . And that did him in. He never understood the difference between the Sa the teacher sang, and the Sa that he sang. 

So, in every music class, all that he did was go out and play cricket with all the other boys of the class who were left to play outside with the justification by the music teacher that 'these boys don't have it in them to understand music'. Who cared though? Getting to play cricket during school hours. What more could you ask for!!

After having spent most part of the class fighting over whether the ball went directly out of the fence, which was an out, or did it touch the fence, which would have made it a six instead, and having soiled his sleeves by wiping his face on it, the shorts-clad boys returned to the class. The teacher had just left the class, and yet the girls were still flocked around the table. Chotu wondered what was going on. As he reached the table, he was surprised to see a sparrow on the table. It was frantically trying to move its wings, but he was shocked to see that there was blood on one of the wings.

'This bird was outside my window in the morning! What happened to it?' he exclaimed. 'Don't be silly. All sparrows look the same. How do you know this is the same one? And it hit the fan and came crashing to the floor just as Upasani Sir left' said Vinaya. Chotu realised his silliness immediately and covered it with a 'Can't we help it?'. 'Help?', said everyone. 'It'll die. Once a bird came in my home. It died and my Mom buried it in our backyard', said someone. 'Why? So that many such birds would grow from the one buried?' said somebody else. 'Arre baba, it's a bird,not a plant'. 'But what do we do about this one?It's still alive.' 'Eww,I am not going to touch it, it's so hairy'. 

Suddenly, Chotu thought of something and rushed to the Biology Lab upstairs. The lab attendant, Rana Sir, was busy with some mounting work, when he barged into the Lab. 'Arre, what are you doing here?', he asked. 'Sir, I saw that you store snakes and frogs in bottles. There's a bird in our room. Can you store that too? Otherwise it'll die', said Chotu. Rana Sir heard the full account of what had happened, and accompanied him back to their classroom with some first aid stuff he had with him in the Lab. 

After cleaning the wounds of the bird and applying some antiseptic, the bird started to chirp a little, which amused the children so much that few of them decided that they would keep birds as pets at home. 'But birds are not to be kept in cages. They are beautiful only when they are free', said Rana Sir. Hearing this, Chotu took the bird in his hand and went near the window. The bird was chirruping very excitedly, as if dying to go outside. Chotu looked back once, at the other students who had gone back to their seats and were waiting for the teacher to come, and threw the bird in the air. Like a paper aeroplane, the bird took a trajectory, but unlike one, it  actually took a flight and vanished in the sky within seconds. And there was Chotu,standing,feeling contented, as if someone had gifted him a Five Star, smiling to himself for no apparent reason, and gazing at the sky through the window, the window that he always wanted to become...

A Random Bakar

The other day, a long lost acquaintance pinged me on Orkut, asking me about my well being, and the usual 'how n where r u?'. Quite happy to hear from him, I replied rather enthusiastically that I was at Pune, working with IBM and so on. A few days later, I received a reply which said that he was 'sad' that I was not working for an Indian firm, and was helping a phoren country flourish by working for it! 'WTF' was my first reaction. I mean, who cares yaar, if I am working for an MNC. I am not adding to the so-called Brain Drain. Or, am I?

When we were in college, we used to have a lot of discussions(back then, it was aptly called Bakar, or Non-Stop-Non-Sense for the uninitiated) . Here's how one such Bakar session went on. The setting is room number AG-1, Hostel 9, NIT Surat. Time is 11.30 in the morning. Oh, by the way, the next day was the second test of the ongoing End Sems. And yes, a Disclaimer: Names of the involved persons are withheld to protect their privacy!

The Talkative Guy(TTG) or Lambu: So, as I went to her with that 'OMG-you-are-so-pretty-and-I-am-so-lame' look, I suddenly realised th...

 Fundu: Arre yaar, cut it. Nobody's bothered about you and your rickety love life. And anyway, she's gonna go to US after engineering. So stop pestering her with you lame looks, and us with your stories of 'conquests'..

 Me: Hee hee, sahi bola yaar. By the way Lambu, why don't you too give GRE? That way you atleast have some hope of getting into the same college as hers. See, you'll have two more years to waste time and money over her.

 Small Timid Guy(STG) or Chotu laughs 

 Lambu: Ha, Ha, very funny, as if I would go to US just for some girl.

 Me: You wouldn't? strange!

 Fundu: Waise seriously yaar, if any of you get an opportunity to work or study in US, would you go?

 Me: I wouldn't mind going.

 Fundu: Chotu, you?

 Chotu: Me, am not sure.

 Me: Typical Chotu. And Lambu, what about you?

 Lambu: I won't ever leave my country to work for some other nation. Never!

 Fundu: Easy man! Load mat le. Waise, don't you think there are more opportunities if you work outside India?

 Lambu: Who cares? I won't leave my country. And waise bhi, opportunities may be less in India, but if everyone plans to pack their bags and leave, then they will be even more less.

 Me: Point hai boss. But I feel that in life, the idea is to be flexible. If I get a good offer, I don't mind working all my life for this country. But, if not, then I wouldn't mind going abroad either.

 Fundu: But that's not correct na. You should have some perspective atleast.

 Me: I have one. It's called The Middle Path.

 Chotu laughs again.

 Fundu: After I am done with my MS, I'll find a job there and will try to settle there itself. India is not worth working so hard for.

 Lambu: Oye, what the hell do you mean?

 Fundu: Calm down, am just saying that the competition in India has reached maddening levels. What I achieve here, I could have achieved far better had I been in a country like US.

 Me: Yup, I read it in One Night @ Call Center. They say that the IQ of a 35 year old American is same as a 10 year old Indian. Mast na?

 Lambu: (Ignoring me) C'mon man Fundu. Why don't you say that you want to run away from competition?

 Fundu: Coz am not. Am just a cattle who is using its brains and finding a turf where the grass is greener and other animals lesser.

 Me: Ya, but in the process, you are also blaming your home turf for not being so green, which, I don't think, is right. 

 Chotu: I agree.

 Me: Chotu, you actually spoke? Am honored!

 Chotu (smiles shyly): I feel Tiwari is right. You shoud not comment on what's wrong with India if you do not intend to correct it.

 Fundu: You may be right, Chotu, par the fact remains that there are problems with India. If I don't speak out, somebody else will. Remaining silent is like hiding your face in sand on seeing danger. 

 Lambu: Very true Fundu. But speaking out aloud without actually planning to do something is of no use either. 

 Fundu: So what do you want me to do? 

 Lambu: I don't know. Don't contribute to the Brain Drain any further, maybe?

 Fundu: Oh, the Brain Drain thing again. Why does everything have to come to this?

 Lambu: Because that's what everything is all about man. Nobody wants to work for this country, and then you say that India is going to the dogs.

 Chotu: Hey guys, look what I found. I jus Googled for Brain Drain, and it says, 'A brain drain or Human capital flight is a large emigration of individuals with technical skills or knowledge, normally due to conflict, lack of opportunity, political instability, or health risks.'

 Fundu: See, it says '...lack of opportunity'. That's what am talking about.

 Lambu (dishearteningly mumbles): That's the problem man. You are only talking.

 Me: Waise, it also says, '...with technical skills or knowledge' . Why are we fighting then? We don't belong to that category!!

 Fundu(ignoring me and my joke once again): Achcha Lambu, tell me. If you get a job offer from an MNC to work in India, will you take it?

 Lambu: Yes I would.

 Fundu: But won’t you be contributing to some other country’s growth then? Tell me.

 Lambu(confused): I don’t know. I mean, I would be spending all that I earn in India. So, I would be contributing to India’s economy, not theirs.

 Fundu: But by working for them, you are providing them with cheap labor, which is a benefit to their economy na.

 Lambu: But atleast I would be here, seeing the problems posed here everyday, and would try to find solutions to them.

 Fundu: What’s the logic? I can work there and still contribute in solving India’s problems.

 Me: You know Lambu, Fundu has a point. You see, he would be more financially able to do so, what with Indians getting paid much more there than here.

 Lambu: But Tiwari, isn’t that like its the...

 Somebody shouting out in the corridor: GPL,GPL, Jackson ki GPL. Come one, come all...Exams ka frustration nikaalne ka ultimate solution..

 Chotu: Oye lets go. That Jackson git always gets away. It’s his birthday today. Won’t spare him this time!!

 Me: Easy Chotu. Chal Lambu, Fundu. Shall talk about this some other time. More pressing matters at hand!!

 

So people, this was a bakar session we had back in college. And as with all bakar sessions, it was the same too- random in starting, abrupt in ending. I don’t know if we would have actually arrived at a ‘solution’ had we carried on. What I do know is, we surely would have flunked the next days’ exam in that case! I don’t know if any of this seemed sensible to you. What I do know is, its worth more than just a random bakar session. Signing off now. Stay beautiful.

 

Remixed Religion

If you have ever travelled by train (Tell me you haven't, and I'll tell you about someone who hasn't seen India in all its glory), you surely would have seen and heard small street children, with stone pieces in their hands, striking them together in a way so as to create percussion, and singing Shirdi waaaaale, Sai Baaaaaba at the top of their voices. This is a common scene in almost all train journeys I have ever been a part of. And all those children,hailing from different parts of the country, sing the song in the same nasal tone and accent that I sometimes wonder if there actually is an 'Association of Shirdi-Wale-Sai-Baba Singers'(ASS ??). 

Anyway, the point is, that after having heard this and many such songs of devotion since we can barely recall, these songs have attained cult status in our memories. Everytime there is any religious gathering or Jaagran of some sort, these are the songs that we invariably come across. 

There is another genre (if I may call it that) of such devotional songs that has suddenly cropped up in the past decade. The funda is simple- take a hit bollywood number, like Bheegey Hont Tere( Mind you, this is not a random example, I have actually come across this one!) substitute its lyrics with that of devotion, and behold! The song's ready. Sundar, sasta aur tikau. The idea is sheer genius, the reason being that the music is famous among the junta and so attracts attention instantly. 

But the icing on the cake is the new trend that I came across after coming to Pune. Last fortnight saw Ganesh Pooja being celebrated across Pune with quite a fervour and passion. Every society or building had its own Lord Ganesha's idol setup. In the evening, children from the nearby areas gathered near the idol, and there was quite an infectiously high-spirited atmosphere around the idol. The only thing that was really out of place was the music being played as part of the evening Aarti celebrations. You actually do not have any other choice but to believe me, that Mungda Mungda, Ye to Bata Dekhta hai tu kya, Doorie sahi jaye na, and Billo Raani were some of the few songs that I actually heard blaring out of the loudspeakers! And going by her 'track record', I won't be surprised if I switch on the TV some day and find Rakhi Sawant claiming that she is the one actually responsible for the sudden spurt of religious awakening in youngsters today!

I sincerely hope to find a logical explanation to this observation that I and one of my friend made during the past few days. I mean, you can very well imagine the condition one would be in, when after a day's hard work, you return from office, and on your way back, you see Ganesha's idol, smiling serenely at you from a distance. You find yourself walking towards Him to thank Him for the day that passed. You close your eyes, and suddenly, out of nowhere, you imagine Bipasha Basu dancing her way to glory. 

Signing off for now. Stay beautiful.

P.S- The image, dunno if there's any relevance. Just felt like putting it up.

Bombay Rains,Bombay Girls

Before you get any ideas, let me explain. This is not a discourse on Bombay and its girls drenched in rain (though that would have been an interesting area of discussion). It's the name of a book written by Anirban Bose, a doctor by profession and writer by passion.
There would only be a handful of the so called Youngistaan who have not read Five Point Someone by Chetan Bhagat. If you are one of them, kindly don't shower me and my stupid blog with so much of affection. Go read that book first!
But if you are among the masses who have read it, you'll probably find Bombay Rains.. on the same lines. Freshers into a college (this one medical), getting ragged by seniors, playing mischief in class, the protagonist finding the girl of his dreams, him making friends who are all as different from one another like chalk and cheese, their masti, their discussions on everything and so on.
But after reaching almost midway, the book ceases to be a copy of Five Point Someone. Actually, it's not exactly a copy, frankly speaking. It's just that after having read that milestone book, each one on those lines seems like a copy.
Anyway, as I said, halfway through, the book takes a different turn, and you find yourself far from the fun and thrill of college life. It is then that the actual motive of the book(trust me, there always is a motive behind each one being written) surfaces. I won't be giving out any spoilers, so go read it. You may love it, you may not. But you will surely take something away from it.