for old times’ sake

will i travel a lot, i ask,
in a ship or an old cask?
Holding my palm in her hand,
she conjures a dream of a faraway land.
better carry some rum in a flask.

big news

a crane fell down in new york,

after fighting a huge stork,

it fell and fell,

people ran pell mell,

but osama still refused to eat pork

here comes the whine again

i have been through a lot the last couple of days. and i am not sure i will emerge stronger from the whole thing.

but first, the good news. i just watched dil chahta hai, again. i suppose it is one of those rare movies you can watch ten times, learn all the dialogues by heart, and yet feel happy repeating them during the eleventh. i have always wondered why i love the books and movies i love. i always thought it was because i could relate to the characters, be them and see the story unfolding as if it was my own. i still think so.

there is no one person in dil chahta hai like that. maybe the reason i like it so much is because i can identify with most of the main characters. with sid because of what i am. with akash because of what i would like to be. with sameer because his story seems like mine. and with shalini…

my mother was the eighth of nine children. with so many of them, i don’t think it is fair to expect all of them to be as pure as freshly-fallen snow. some turned out quite well, big businessmen, honest priests, lawyers, bankers. and a few went wayward, became good-for-nothing drunkards. i suppose that was reason enough for her to resolve that she would do everything in her power to make sure her kids didn’t turn out like them.

i was a fairly good student. but i was also good at other things. they were encouraged as long as they did not interfere with my studies. my father never had to bribe me into studying. he is a rare breed. someone who wants his kids to be independent, in every way. i was raised to have my own opinions. i read the papers. i read books. all kinds of them. i devoured everything that came my way, however boring they were. i do realise i was pretty stupid then, pig headed to be precise, when i continued plodding through a book even if it bored the hell out of me. it was like a matter of honour for me, i suppose.

my marks, which were in the 90s in primary and junior school, followed a gradual downward curve through the 80s till i reached high school, culminating in a 79.8% average in the 10th boards. the reason wasn’t hard to figure out. the amount of time i dedicated to studying hadn’t changed all those years, even though the syllabus had continued to grow every year. and my mother was one worried woman. she saw in the declining marks her son going down the same road that her wayward brothers had taken. in her effort to salvage her son’s future, she went a bit over the top.

because my father allowed it, i could keep my door locked. but my mother was came knocking all too often, to make sure i was with my books. i sure was. though not the books she would have liked to see with me. it was an interesting period for me. harold robbins was quite unputdownable. so was grisham, cussler and clancy. and my mother’s constant poking of her nose into what was my sanctuary just irritated me; the more she did it, the more the teenager asserted his independence, and acted like a teenager.

she didn’t know what to do. and my marks suffered because i would rather do poorly in exams than see her happy, especially after all that she put me through. in her desperation, she resorted to violence, beating me with the belt and poking my palm with a sharp pencil till the point broke. i wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry. though the tears flowed freely when i was alone in the room at night, i knew that i wouldn’t be happy till i was out of the house. it wasn’t my home any more.

my emotions were one thing i learnt to control. not exactly control. i considered my emotions my own, something so intensely private that i would hide it from the world. i could laugh when i felt like crying. i could smile when i was in pain. i vowed never to be jealous. and anger was taken care of by the time i left college.
i am afraid now. it will pass, hopefully. i failed my actuarial exam. but one thing i have never worried about was ending up good for nothing, like my mother feared. i knew that passing was a long shot, considering how little effort i had out in. it had to happen. i am writing the same paper again in august and i would be much more confident then. if i am afraid, it is of being alone.
i thought i had my emotions under control. but one thing i was happy to let wild was love. i don’t suppose it can be controlled. you cannot know when it happens. and when you do realise that you have fallen, there is nothing you can do about it. and that is why i can relate to shalini. “pyaar faisle se nahin kiya jaata.“

i do feel sorry for myself right now. one of these days, i will snap out of it. i do think i am almost out of it now. and i can’t thank some of my friends enough for it.

cure for depression

i was watching TV in the hostel common room with Soman Chetai, our mess’ second-in-command, when SS music showed a spoof of the latest rajnikant movie, sivaji. now, soman chetai has strong views on the tamil film industry, not entirely favourable. his main grouse is that any idiot can become a star here. and as an example, he points out Dhanush, the skeleton kid who rose to fame with the pscho act in kadhal kondain. that he married rajnikant’s daughter, despite every chance of being asphyxated if they took the woman-on-top position, is something else he can’t understand. no, she isn’t fat, but he dostn’t look like he can take any extra weight.

soman chetai isn’t a big fan of tamilians in general either, for their idol worship of movie stars. he told me the story of this screening of a rajnikant movie in a village near chengalpettu. it is the last action scene and rajni is unarmed and surrounded by the villain’s henchmen. the suspense in unbearable, the assembled crowd hold their breath. but before rajni can make his usual trademark repartee before the big fight, an overzealous fan in the audience gets up, shouts, “take this, thalaivar,” and throws his butcher’s knife into the screen. the screen was torn in two and there were some unconfirmed rumours of a lynching.

i have seen Sivaji twice, nothing compared to this big fan i saw on sun TV who claims to have seen it 60 times, that too in theatre. trust me on this, there is no better cure for depression. it is one heck of a laugh riot.

Exam P and the probability of passing

four days to THE exam and i am still reasonably confident that i wont pass. the fifteen minutes they will take to tell me whether i have or not are going to be, possibly, the longest of my life so far. and what a life it has been.

since i dont have classes these days, a lot of time is spent on creative reflection. creative because i take quite a few liberties in remembering things through a very colourful prism. i am a deadly dood in all of them of course. there are very few memories that rankle, but the incident of the chewing gum is one huge sore spot though 19 years have passed. i was in first standard then and i stole a friend’s chewing gum. i was obviously caught, which is why it rankles. it is quite painful, so i may be excused for not going into the details. the least i can say is that it was quite a surprise to see the person who caught me turn up as a colleague, for a brief period, during my stint in ET. he never mentioned it and i doubt he remembered it. i suppose i have been much more careful after that or it may be that i havent stolen anything after that because my conscience is reasonably clear. stealing candy from sister doesnt count.

Exam P is the worst of the lot. seven of my illustrious classmates have tried their hand at clearing it with absolutely no success. i still cant figure out why i decided to take up this paper. I do actually but the explanation is quite boring. hence left for another day. maybe for the sob story i will put up if dont clear. i havent given up entirely, you may have noticed, by my saying if instead of when.

i have been evaluating my options the last couple of days. the chennai-delhi ping pong match is still going on, being played out in my mind again and again. it seems pune has joined the fray now and is vying for the honour of hosting me for the next year or so. i am cheering for pune, since a new place is exactly what i want. i dont suppose you can expect anything more from the bedouin. let’s see what wikipedia have to say about bedouin.

“The Bedouin, (from the Arabic badawī (بدوي), pl. badū), are a desert-dwelling Arab nomadic pastoralist, or previously nomadic group, found throughout most of the desert belt extending from the Atlantic coast of the Sahara via the Western Desert, Sinai, and Negev to the Arabian Desert. Non-Arab groups as well, notably the Beja of the African coast of the Red Sea are sometimes called Bedouin.”

i came across the bedouin long back in some clive cussler novel. or was it tom clancy? anyway, the point is if i am to be a nomad, i would like to imagine i am bedouin. there is scope for imagination here, as anne of green gables puts it.

i suppose i should be getting back to the normal distribution now. normal distribution turned out to be much easier than i thought. it is the joint distribution that is killing me. quite a pain in the neck.

into the dark

the dying drops of the evening rain,

hit the roof and spray my face.

there are drops in the light,

but more to see in all the dark.

green is a tree in front of me,

and green are the leaves right above.

one fell on my lap as i lay asleep,

like the clouds that gently weep.

young was the leaf, just like me.

in my heart, fell the shadow of dread

and i knew a friend had moved on.

a crack in the clouds, the gods peep through,

for a moment the world is all bright.

where is he now, where did he go?

wish he could say when i could take a bow.

the wind dies but then so do i.

the essence of everything is in me.

and i am free.

not-so-random thoughts

this time last year, i was agonising over whether i had spent time enough in delhi. i wondered whether it was time to move on. be a new person.

it is that time of the year again. my second stint in chennai turned out to be amazingly dull, though not entirely unproductive. i seem to have gained some focus in life, finally. i have come to the conclusion that my future lies in actuarial science. so there is no more time to waste worrying any more. it is there, the path, it just needs some trodding upon.

i would like to think i am a happy person, someone who can’t remain unhappy very long. it helps me get out of depression. “jack, you are a happy person,” i tell myself again and again till i snap out of it. it isn’t that tough. it helps to realise that the only person who can send you into the tunnel of gloom is you. i mean, why blame someone else for it? you are depressed because you want to be. if you aren’t your own master, it is a different matter. sorry, can’t be bothered about that.

my next actuarial paper is on may 14. eleven days to go. it is do-or-die. i made it a do-or-die thing. i clear it, it will keep me going. i don’t, my confidence goes into a tailspin (a temporary one) and i end up without a PG Dip. I am not writing 2 papers this semester. an arrear for the first time in my life. i was not going to write any of the semester exams, but my warden threatened to chuck me out of hostel if i didn’t. i do need a place to stay till the 14th. i could scoot after that, but a promise is a promise and i really can’t say it was extracted under duress.

i have booked my trivandrum tickets for the 18th. back on the 27th. and off to delhi soon after. i wonder if this is going to be a annual affair. this ping-pong match between chennai and delhi. nothing is decided though. i really want to think this through. my line of reasoning goes thus: the PG Dip sucks. it was a mistake coming to chennai. but it had its good points. i learned that there were actuarial societies which didn’t have such strict admission requirements. i cleared an actuarial paper. i gained focus. i fell in love. you do need to lose things to realise their value. i miss delhi.

i was never one for objective reasoning. no, i am not apologetic about it. coming back to chennai was an impulsive decision. i am trying to ensure that going back to delhi isn’t. but i also realise that my impulsive decisions don’t always turn out to be bad. or maybe i don’t want to admit my mistakes.

i am publishing a letter i wrote to a very good friend explaining why i thought it was best if stayed back in chennai. it was written before i changed my mind on the whole thing.

Dear B

the more i think about it, the more i feel that it would be better if i stay on in chennai. i have a good actuarial study group here. people i can study with. and in whose company i will feel like studying. but what i am worried about is asking my parents to support me for one more year, and if i don’t get a job by then, a bit more. that was another reason for wanting to get back to delhi. actuarial jobs are quite hard to find in chennai and i am not interested in editing jobs any more, unless it is in a paper. the other types i find too boring. maybe i think a newspaper is not boring because i am expecting a repeat of the ET (i used to work there) experience. and i am not sure anyone would hire me here when i tell them i am not interested in anything long term.
suddenly i get this feeling that i am getting my priorities right, finally. i had figured that i would take it easy, do one actuarial paper every six months. it is possible to lead a normal life when u are preparing for just one paper at a time, like i did all this semester and last semester too. but that way, it would take close to 4 years just to become an associate of any actuarial society. and around 6 to become a fellow (as high as u can go). so thought i might as well put in more effort and write two or more papers every six months. that involves a lot more effort and i dont know how viable it is. people do it but i would like to think those are the people without a life. not that mine is all that great now. now that i have made a choice, i would like to get through this as soon as possible.
two or more papers mean i can neatly put away the calcutta plan (i was planning to volunteer with the missionaries of charity for a month or two). loath to say it, but that seems the best thing to do. i can still do it later, but spending a month in cal would essentially give me only enough time to prepare for one paper in november. and i really dont want to ask my parents to finance my calcutta expedition. they cant understand y i am doing it anyway. they are ready too though. but getting out of their shadow is quite important to me now, like it was when i left college. as early as possible.
lets see how things work out.
i am really sorry to have bothered you with all that coming to delhi excitement and asking for the job bit. i will be applying for some actuarial jobs in gurgaon after may 14th, which is when i have my next actuarial exam. will know the result immediately since it is a computer-based test. but getting a job after clearing just two papers is kind of hard. but if i do, i may land in gurgaon in july after all.
life does seem pretty bleak when i am unemployed.
i do think i have painted a bleak picture. things arent as bad as i have made it sound. and i am definitely not depressed. i have come to realise that i am a happy person who cant remain unhappy for long. and things do tend to turn out good in the end.

yours truly

jack L

Chennai-Bangalore-Yelagiri-Chennai

it was not an impulse trip. i just didnt want to spend my birthday in madras, with the stupid cake-cutting and stuff in college. and i needed some time for introspection. yes, it is an annual affair.

bangalore wasnt the ideal place — hate it actually — but it wasnt madras and it was jus 6 hours away. and i hadn’t met murali and anand, friends from school, in a long time. hadn’t seen them after the first farewell in my first year of college. murali was in a spot, stuck in bangalore, the way i saw it. he used to live with some of his college friends at a decent place in GM Palaya, near BEML Gate. that’s when his parents, who were already worried about their son because of GIRLS (aiyyo shiva shiva) calling him on his phone while he was at home, decided to take matters into their own hands. both of them had just retired, uncleji having taken early retirement, and with their benefits and retirement money, they bought a nice little  3-bedroom house in bangalore. well, not exactly bangalore. the place is called hudi, or huddi, or hoodi, and it is in the outskirts, beyond whitefield. the only consolation was it was close to his office in ITPL. but then, he was so far from the city, his friends from school and college. and brigade road. and i think that is exactly why his parents did that to him. but you havent heard the full amount of their treachery yet.

they made the initial downpayments for the flat with their money, then took out a loan in his name for the rest. so he is as good as stuck in TCS — that’s where he works — till he repays the loan. and he got a bad deal when he joined, being assigned to one of the worst task groups possible, where the annual raises are always less than the company average. his only way out is an onsite, that is working where the client, Aviva, is based. Britain to be precise.

my first night in banglaore was like the sunny deol ad. khoob jamega rang jab mil baithainge teen yaar, aap, mein or hamara bagpiper club soda. i could never figure out what the two guys would do with plain soda, so murali, me and hercules rum did the honurs. intimate discussions about life, parents, siblings, women, our dreams and what not.

the second day was more of the same but with more friends.

the third day, the birthday, i got back to murali’s place in the morning from anand’s. murali had some work in the city, so i had the whole flat to myself and i wasnt complaining. people kept calling throughout the day and i was only too happy to talk to some of them. the realisation that i had more than my share of friends who are really good human beings was quite humbling. and the feeling kept coming back, what did i do to deserve them? them and my parents, who i valued so lightly till recently. it was a sick feeling. a guilt trip is the last one i will take, but once a year is ok.

the weather was just perfect, reflecting my mood, cloudy and raining at intervals. and i stood on the balcony and looked out at the barren landscape in front of me, with just one or two houses and the electric pylons to break the monotony, and cried.

i took the morning lalbagh from KR Puram to jolarpettai. the hills tugged from afar and i thought i had found the perfect substitute in yelagiri. what a disappointment!

Yelagiri is a small hill station around 45 mins out of jolarpettai and an hour from vellore. the view as you climb the hill is incredible. all the hills i have seen till now were surrounded by hills. but here, as you climbed, a flat plain just stretched out endlessly in front of you. i am pretty sure the white cluster of civilazation i saw far away was vellore. but then, it could have been ambur too.

but once you reach yelagiri, there is absolutely nothing for a single traveller like me to do. it turned out to be a bleady picnic spot. a small lake where some boating happened was the only tourist attraction. and it was too hot for a hill station. at 1400 m, i suppose, that was to be expected. but i wasnt beaten yet.

i had come for a trek and a trek i would do. yelagiri is surrounded by reserve forests, small hills that rise above the plateau that is yelagiri. i walked through fields and grazing spots, with farmers staring at the oddly-clad tourist who seemed to be going in the wrong direction, before i found a path that seemed to go into the forest. i was right on that front. the climb wasnt tortuous, but the blazing sun was a pain. i would have preferred climbing in a snowstorm any day. halfway up the mountain, i found some huge boulders in the shade and pitched camp. took my shoulder bag and kept it under my head and went to sleep would be more exact. i dont know how long i slept — my old phone’s clock has Y2K issues i think. the sun was still right over my head, just a bit off to the left, when i woke up. after two slabs of milky bar and some water, i was off again. i reached another huge boulder after  a short climb. i dont know what got into me, but with all the hills around, i thought it would be a good echo piont. it wasnt all that bad, but the lady who had been cutting wood up on the hill gave me  a wierd look as she passed me by.

i never made it to the top. the path sloped downward some 5o metres from the top and i was too lazy to cut through the dense undergrowth.  i had almost decided to go back, when the shot rang out. after growing up with heavy doses of hardy boys and the three investigators, it was a moral obligation to investigate. all i found were a few shepherds, their cows and absolutely no trace of any marijuana cultivation. i am reasonably sure that if i had climbed a few more hills, i could have come back with half a bag of farm-fresh stuff.

the trip back didnt take long. downhill never does. i was back in yelagiri before 3 and made jolarpettai before 4. jolarpettai to ambur was another hour from where i got a nice SETC airbus to chennai. the bangalore-chennai highway is one heck of a road and we made good time, despite the rain. they played gilli, the vijay movie and dhol, vikram’s hit, on the bus. i had seen them before, but they seemed a lot funnier in the bus.

i got down at kattipara and took a share auto to anna universty. a 21G dropped me in kotturpuram at 7:55. i was right on time for dinner.

on the hill

When i was twenty, i climbed a hill.

Restless and wild, i couldn’t stand still.

There was no path, i made my own,

Happily did i leap from stone to stone.

Far above stood a solitary figure,

hesitant i was for solitude was dear.

flowers in full bloom fell at her feet,

under a tree, a goddess did i meet.

her voice was the wind, what do you seek?

a purpose in life, my road looks bleak.

a smile she gave and a kiss so tender,

i was dazed but that i did remember.

i climbed the hill many times after,

she was gone, never did i see her.

but the mist had lifted, my path was clear,

moment to moment, a stone skipping on water.

hey

Another awesome day, eat drink, drink some more and be merry.

joy thought we had to do something on easter and woke me and my roommate around lunchtime. his roommate — in his Rs 2500-ManU jersey — was also supposed to come along but was finally convinced, using some reverse psychology, not to. hate that idiot. ok, not hate, dislike.

auto to bessie.

we got down in front of the wineshop, but i flatly refused to drink anything on an empty stomach. so off we went in search fo food, finally settling for mallu food in tharavadu. but they didnt have veg biriyani, so i didnt order anything. just sat there staring hungrily at joy and aravind eating naadan parotta with chicken curry. did eat one parotta and some gravy though.

went to gallopin’ gooseerrys after that. didnt know they had a branch in bessie. had heard a lot about the gream’s road one when i was in college, so thought i should try it out. the veg barbeQ burger was just ok, not really as good as the ones in eatalica and more expensive too.

next fruit shop where aravind had something with tang in its name and ginger in the juice while i had the orange juice. they have opened a shop in dubai too it seems.

walked to pirates, a resto bar in adyar, with a stop in between at fashion folks where joy and aravind checked out but didnt buy t-shirts. they had a huge tv showing highlights of yesterday’s EPL matches. anyway, pirates turned out to be more expensive than what we had heard it would be. and black pearl was just a short walk. but there was hardly any shade in adyar and we were glad to be inside in the end. one foren uncle and aunty peeped in as soon as we had settled down, said something in german and scooted. but the bar is one heack of a place. at night, you can usually find some well-dressed middle-aged uncles discussing politics and cricket there. other than that, black pearl is one shady place.

mirlang was leaving chennai for good and goodbyes were in order. they, mirlang, the jamshedpur gang, mickey, his colleague christopher, the pop star sunny B and his brother were on one heck of a trip at the thiruvanmayur house. dont remember when we got there and when we left. just remember that we stopped at adyar for packign some food and got back to hostel around 21:30.