Quite a dhadkan!

I was at a watch store sometime back in the quaint town I live in. As, this was not a metro city, I decided to take my chances and ask the big question "Do you keep HMT watches?" The elderly gentleman on the other side of the counter gave me a side long glance and smiled. "Woh to bahut pehle ati thi", he said adding "I have several other brands, why don't you try those?" This conversation almost made me giveup any thoughts of being able to buy a mechanical hand winding watch of HMT make.

Actually, HMT and I go back a long way. I remember when as a child I often used to put my dad's HMT Sona close to my ears and felt elated listening the the constant and rythmatic tic-tic-tic of the watch. It was probably my the closest encounter I could get with a machine as a child, I suppose, and perhaps that is why I enjoyed it so much. Very aptly had HMT put a tagline to its watches - "desh ki dhadkkan"!There also is a history to this watch. It was gifted to my dad by my late grandfather when my dad completed his matriculation. My mom allowed me to use the watch for some time when I also got its worn down leather strap replaced with a more trendy but cheap plastic strap. I suppose, my mother soon realised the value of the watch and quietly got the watch 'underground' much beyond my reach. The watch continues to be in service with its original gold polish quite intact.

Now, coming back to my conversation with the watch dealer in my town, I did the customary googling to figure out a HMT showroom in NCR. To my surprise there was one in CP and one in Jhandewalan. I tried reaching the showroom on the numbers given on the HMT watch division website but couldn't get through. And then, Ebay came to my rescue. A quick search on Ebay threw up dozens of links where used and new HMT watches were being sold. There was the HMT Pilot with the bold black dial and an HMT Janta with Hindi numerals. There were trendier watches with coloured dials too! While I was mulling on which watch to buy, my eyes caught fancy of a rather simple watch. It was the most ordinary watch you could ever own. Off-white dial se in a gold plated round body with brown leather strap. No date, no chrono, nothing! So what was it that got me hooked? Well, it was the name. Quite surprisingly, this model of HMT was called HMT Sudeep! Man! I had to have this watch, at any price! I know I paid higher than the marked price of the watch to source it, but then how often is it that your watch is your namesake? And this is how I got the desh ki dhadkan on my wrist bearing my name in golden letters on its simple round dial!

Quite sadly there are no takers of HMT watches anymore in India. India's desi watch company is dying. While there are a gazillion forums where foreign collectors are discussing HMT watches and sourcing them from whatever channels are available, Indians have turned a deaf ear to the desh ki dhadkan. 

Is this a pun on the current plight of this nation, I wonder. Whatever it is I hope the dhadkan of HMT and of this nation goes on for a zillion years... or at least till the time the warranty on my watch is valid!!


HMT Sudeep

Remembering Pearl

At times I start living in the past.
Sitting on my sofa at this late hour my mind has wandered back to the age of Khatta Meetha. To the age of the romance of the ever-so-old Ashok Kumar and the effervescent Peral Padamsee.
Pearl! What a beautiful name she had...
I must have been a kid when I saw that movie and the image of the doting plum Parsi mother continues to be as fresh.
I guess it is her name. Pearl. A gem!
She has that sweet and mystic aura around her.
That round face with a million mega-watt smile framed within her bob-cut hair is too sweet a memory to be forgotten.
Her anglicized Hindi further added to her charm. And so did the poise with which she walked on screen in those ah-so-Parsi midis and tunics.
Ah Mrs. Padamsee.. I wish you were alive today and we could have seen more of you on the silver screen!
I guess it is your name, Pearl, that immortalises you!

Shit Happens!

It was the first Saturday after I had got my new car. A shining metallic red curvaceous vehicle! Me and wifey had gone for a movie. The punch line of the title read "Shit happens".
As could have been expected of me, all through the stairs to the third floor of the complex, I just could not take my eyes off my new darling. After all, it was standing out in the open, right next to the two wheeler parking.
As soon as the movie got over, I just could not wait to check if the world in the parking lot had not taken tumultuous turns. And there it was, it all its sheen. I heaved a sigh of relief.
With wifey giving out directions, I reversed the car successfully and was on the road. The weather was nice. FM was playing some nice music and the ride was smooth till we reached one of the narrow lanes. And as luck would have it SHIT HAPPENED. Some smart Alec in a swift desire passed by scrapping my new love!
Its been three days now and I just cannot take my mind off the incident.
I've made plans to get it repainted and also get a Teflon coating on it for that extra shine.
Whether that happens or not is a different question.....but I can definitely say that it is not a very good feeling at the moment!

Ba-Ba Ramdev have you any shame.. no sir no sir I only want fame

The Great Indian Tamasha continues to amuse the World.
And this time it features Baba Ramdev.

It seems Ramdev (sorry Mr. Baba, you don't get my regards) was fed up of crunching his stomach and holding his breath and decided to take plunge in politics. As is one Anna Hazare was not enough for this nation, we suddenly had another 'satyagrahi' sitting in a multi-crore shamiyana preaching his disciples to to fight corruption. And did they even know what inflation or black money menat? Ramdev himself admitted that 99% didn't. Such shamlessness!

But our administration was not to be fooled by the 'sanyasi satyagrahi'. With Diggi asking some very pertinent questions doubting the intentions of Baba, things turned sour for Ramdev when his 'shanti shivir' was 'attacked' by police forcing baba to flee and bringing an abrupt and violent end to the satyagraha

Media is abuzz.And so is the opposition.

BJP is condemning the attack on their beloved RSS ally and the 'uncorrupt' Lallu Prasad Yadav is issuing a statement. Even Mulayam Singh Yadav is not missing the opportunity. It is time for these political bigwigs to come out from the hiding. I will not be surprised if all these 'loosers' form a coalition to contest the next National elections! The Nation would then definitely be fed to the dogs!

Media also has got some masala to talk about. Star News correspondent is worried why Ramdev is wearing a white robe as he gets off the helicopter in Dehradoon. Another news channel correspondent is asking a 'devotee' on where exactly did the police hit Ramdev. A yet another news correspondent is 'breaking news' that Ramdev was wearing woman's clothes when he was caught.

Anshan or no anshan, Ramdev definitely has achieved what he wanted - free ki footage!

Overheard

I was at a chemist's shop waiting patiently for the sales person at the counter to get free.
He was busy dealing with a lady who had come to buy some 'salt solution' which the doctor had prescribed her to wash the dentures of her son. The bottle costed Rs 60 and the lady was visibly upset at spending so much for a one time wash of the dentures.
She asked the sales person if it was alright to wash the dentures in warm salted water to which he replied "arey madam aapko kahan paison ki kami hai" and without battling an eyelid the lady replied, "toh udaa dein kya?"
I couldn't help smiling.

Taking time out

I've recently joined my new employer. Well not too recently either, it's been nine months now. I am a consultant now. An average consultant spends a lot of his life travelling. His travel plans are unplanned and bizarre.
To be honest, I've been lucky and haven't been asked by my employers to explore the length and breadth of this country much.My last post was live from the side upper berth of a Ambikapur bound train. That was my first trip. This was to Chhattisgarh - the land of maoists.
My second and the most recent trip was to Chandigarh, Jammu and Simla.
I've often discussed this with my colleagues and they tell me how difficult it is to be a tourist at a place you are visiting for business. I, however disagree.
I am of the opinion that if there is a will, there is a way.
On my first trip to Chhattisgarh, I could get time do sight see the city of Raipur, explore a mall, shop Kosa silk at the local cloth market and buy souvenirs from the forest department's emporium. I would have explored the jungles of Bastar as well if I had my own conveyance!
On my second trip, which was much shorter and much more rushed, I could visit old acquaintances, have a quick lunch at the Mall road in Simla, shop Kashmiri embroidery suits and be a guest at the Western Army Command's GOC-IN-C.
Am not saying I've achieved a laudable feat. All am saying is that it is important to take time out for yourself and mix work with pleasure. Contrary to the belief of many of my colleagues, it is only after one does this, work becomes pleasure!

No-one killed Arushi Talwar

Earlier it was Jessica and now it is Arushi.
Now that the ghost of Arushi is haunting the courts again, the media is abuzz!
I am watching Star News and a bearded anchor with oiled hair tied into a pony tail is screaming and making vehment hand gestures.

The media seems to at a loss to decide which is the largest murder mystery (who the hell is interested in knowing it!) of the country.

CBI is clueless on who killed Arushi.

I am speechless!

Live from the Indian Railways

I am on my first client visit as a "consultant". And, as a part of this client visit I am on a train to Ambikapur, a town in Surguja District of Chhattisgarh.
It has happened for the first time that I am web-enabled while being on-the-move.
What an obscure location and occassion for the inaugral post for 2011.

Though I would love to talk about the behaviourial traits being  demostrated by the employees of my client, rhe professional protocol prohibits me from doing so (I would love to discuss this off-line though). So, the next best option available to me is my co-passengers (Oh! I love 'bitching').

Seated (now asleep) in the coupe right in front of me is a political leader of sorts, a Dada Bhai. A quintessential politicial. I suppose he is an MLA, worse he could even be a MP. He is traveling with his convoy of yes-men. If you were to believe him, the country is being fed to the Dogs and a 'madhyavarti chunav' is right around the corner. The Bhartiya Janta Party, whose NDA has swept the Bihar elections, will come up with a charismatic leader (magically??) and come back in power. Man! he must have been day dreaming. Even the great Arun Jaitley isn't sure who the next leader is going to be!

My mind has now wandered to a copy of The Outlook which I bought at the Raipur railway station. It has a couple of interesting articles. Ms. Mamta Banerjee has left no stone unturned to get the mighty Indian Railways back in the red (or was it that Lalu had cooked another scam during his tenure?) and is now eyeing the West Bengal elections. Rumours are rife that didi will quit the portfolio to take charge of WB politics where Trinamul Congress supposedly has high chances of winning; but not before she has announced a yet another populist budget for her vote bank.

The Outlook also has an article on the Egypt crisis. Oh! I am loving it so much. No, it has got nothing to do with the region. It is this one person who happened to be my client at my previous employer. He was from Egypt and his reports always had a positive outlook (Oh yeah! am flaunting that I was once an 'Equity Research Analyst') on the country. Middle East needs a correction in valuation, and yes I intend a pun on 'valuation'.

And now that I've laid out the sheets and am securing my luggage, I ask one of the personnels from the client's "Theft - weft ka to koi chakkar nahin hai na" and no brownie point for guessing his reply.
He has prompltly replied,"Take your chaces".

I've packed my Puma shoes in a brown paper bag and kept them alongside my (side upper) berth; just as I've kept the rest of my luggage.

Signing Off!!

Oye! Lucky! Lucky! Oye!

No, This post is not about the movie or its inspiration.
It is about how I feel each time I cross someone who makes me feel lucky that I am not in his/her shoes.

Everyday when I climb the steps of the Kanjurmarg Station, I wish that beggar-woman, with a child in bandages, on the staircase would just vanish and her wails would just die out. Even as I stand at the platform waiting for my train, my ears can hear her cries as a distant din. I try to ignore it and pretend as if I am deaf. I am relieved that I haven't seen her in the past few days. I don't know what has happened to her. Hope it's something good.

When I reach Dadar, there inevitably is another beggar, a crippled one, sitting right in between the crowded foot-over-bridge. Sometimes I drop in change to him.

Day-in-and-day-out I see fellow commuters with some disability or the other. Who knows how many people out there in the world are sufferening - silently going on with their routine.

Then, comes the thought of those living on daily wages or doing all sort of obscure jobs for a living.

These sights and thoughts make me feel so blessed and lucky and I often say a small prayer to the good Lord watching us from up above - for the well being of the under privledged and for giving me such a beautiful life.

I feel blessed to have a family, a home, friends, good education, a respectable job (not that others' aren't) and an easy life.

And it makes all those other complaints of being underpaid and over worked just vanish.

Travails of travelling

You know that you are a regular Mumbai Local Train Commuter when:
1) You start recognizing other commuters
2) You start ignoring that ailing beggar whom you see daily on the stairs
3) You have the timetable stored on your phone memory
4) Your facebook status message is the latest railway announcement
5) You feel sad and disturbed (and yet you don't help) when you see a handicapped person travelling all by herself. And, you thank the Lord for what he has given you.
6) You know what 'jalad' means
7) You look out of the window to have a quick glance at the ruins of an old factory your train crosses-by daily
8) You are not flustered by the oily heads and sweaty hands. OK! Sometimes you ARE!
9) You carry a deodorant and a comb with you.
10) You know how to push yourself in and out a train with ease. Yeah Yeah, I know. Not Always!
11) You become apathetic to people around you.
12) You know where the First Class bogey will halt.
13) You know the train route by heart.
14) You have developed the skill to sleep while standing
15) You start tapping your feet to the tunes of a crappy 90's Bollywood number being played on someone's cell phone.
16) You have witnessed at least one cat-fight between the commuters in each week of your travel.
17) You know to which side the next station's platform will be
18) You have a monthly or a quarterly season ticket.
19) You start preferring a train over a more comfortable taxi ride in the peak hour.
20) You can recognise the face of the vendor selling 'pass covers' and ball pens outside the station.

The Smart Taxiwallah

Today morning I got a pleasant surprise.
I was struggling on the road outside Dadar Station to catch a cab to my office at Shivaji Park. None of the drivers were ready to go as I did not have a change of fifty (it's a minimum fare from Dadar (W) to Shivaji Park). So, in all the desperation that I had to take a cab to work, I bought a bottled of packaged water to get myself a change of cash.
And as I turned back, I saw a vacant Taxi approaching. I showed out my hand and it stopped. Even before I could complete saying "Shivaji Park", the cabbie said it.
This was followed by the following monologue from him:
"Aapke kapdon pe likha hai aapko Shivaji Park jana hai.
Aapke bag pe likha hai.
Aapke chashme pe likha hai.
Aapke to poore chahre se tapak raha hai Shivaji Park, Mayor Bunglow, Veer Savarkar Trust"

I couldn't help but laugh with him and admire his friendliness.

He went on to tell me how he daily watches so many of my fellow office colleagues lined up on this road and often drops them (and amuses them with his banter).

He even knew the best route.

It surely was a good start to a mundane Monday!

Kankar Pathar Jor Kar....

Ayodhya was all over the place today.

It was there on the street in the form of Police bandobast; it was there on the internet with Nirmohi Akhada becoming the most Googled term for the day; it was there on office desks with me and my desk neighbour discussing if a 'Ram Rahim Hospital' at the disputed site would be a plausible solution; it was there on the media with Barkha Datt conducting a debate and instigating the masses to create an issue out of a closed matter (i.e. after the verdict was out); it was there on the office emails with advisories to leave work early; it was there in my mind in the form of the lines from a famous song 'mazhab nahin sikhata, aapas mein bair rakhna'; it was there in the courts in the form of a verdict from the High Court of Allahabad.

After a day full of religious brouhaha, I am reminded of these couplets by Kabir

कांकर पाथर जोर के, मस्जिद लिया चुनाय।
ता चढ़ि मुल्ला बांग दे, क्या बहरा हुआ खुदाय?

माला फेरत जुग भया, फिरा न मन का फेर ।
कर का मन का डार दे, मन का मनका फेर ॥

मोको कहाँ ढूंढे रे बन्दे,
मैं तो तेरे पास में
ना तीरथ में
ना मूरत में
ना एकांत निवास में
ना मन्दिर में , ना मस्जिद में
ना काबे कैलास में
ना मैं जप में , ना मैं तप में
ना मैं बरत उपवास में
ना मैं किरिया करम में रहता
न ही जोग सन्यास में
न ही प्राण में न ही पिंड में
ना ब्रह्माण्ड अकास में
ना मैं प्रकुति प्रवर गुफा में
न ही स्वसन की स्वांस में
खोजी होए तुरत मिल जाऊं
इक पल की तलास में
कहत कबीर सुनो भाई साधो
मैं तो हूँ विस्वास में.

From Mumbaiya to Dilli-wallah

The clock is ticking for me. Come November, and I will cease to be a Mumbaikar, a Mumbaiya. I will become a Dilli wallah.Rather, a Faridabad wallah - Resident of a sleepy town in NCR.
The transformation will be drastic and no less than a culture shock.

From traffic jams on roads to no roads
From rains to winters
From Hiranandani Gardens to Sector markets
From local to cabs
From Marathi to Punjabi
From Vada Pao and Pao Bhaji to Pakoras and Kadhai Paneer
From Powai Lake to what-once-used-to-be Badkhal
From Lonavala to Mussourie
From International airport to no-good railway station
From friends to family
From Single to Married
From House to Home

Why do I write?

This ain't a famous blog. There hardly is any audience to my posts. Yet, I write. And I write quite regularly, except for those moments when I am very happy or very depressed (and don't have time or don't feel like writing).

I write because I just love to see how simple sentences take form of a big paragraph. How my thoughts translate to words. And to my amazement, many-a-times, when I read my own writitings, I feel good.

I developed interest in writing in my Tenth grade. I used to love 'Interact in English' course. The notices, advertisements and memos used to be tests of my creativity. And this love for words stayed on.

So I write. Mindlessly. Aimlessly. And for no audience.

I write for myself!

Headlines for Today

I woke up a little late today. It’s a holiday - Anant Chaturdashi – the day people bid farewell to their beloved lord Ganesha. It will be a big chaos on the roads outside my house.

I am looking at the newspaper. There is chaos all around, it seems.
The headlines are interesting.

Commonwealth Games National Shame: A Bridge has collapsed at the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium.
The anchor of a news channel is reading out ‘Breaking News’. A portion of false ceiling has collapsed over the play area.

World heaps scorn on filthy village: TOI has ‘stunned’ the country with its lead story, it seems, on how filthy the games village is. Leading athletes are pulling out their names.

Aussie TV crew enters venue with ammo case: An Australian channel has done a sting operation (who says only Tehelka held the copyrights to ‘stinging’) and managed to sneak in an ammunition case, heightening security concerns.

I am ashamed. And so are millions of Indians watching the events unfold.

It is such an irony. Ganesha is the ‘Lord of Beginning’ and the ‘Remover of Obstacles’. Guess, he is not a ‘lord of anticorruption’. Guess, there is NO such lord.

I hope some divine soul helps our ministers and babus.
May Suresh Kalmadi and Ms. Dixit be blessed!
Its the country's reputation which is at stake.
Someone please wake up!!

Being Quintessentially Indian

Many things come to my mind when I think of the quintessential Indian way of life. Things that could happen only on this homeland of ours. Things that are a matter of pride, and things that are a matter of shame. Things that are commonplace in the so-called 'middle class'.

Did you just ask Kaun Middle Class?? Arey, They are the ones who are neither poor enough to be called lower class and nor rich enough to be termed the Upper Class. So they hang precariously somewhere in the middle!

My list follows. Feel free to make your additions.
Drying clothes on a clothesline outside your balcony
Borrowing lemons and sugar from your neighbour (but never the salt!)
Bowing down to touch the feet of elderly, even your room-mates parents when you don't even know them or are meeting them for the first time
A grand wedding
Savings under the National Savings Certificate Scheme in the Post Offfice
Small car, high on mileage (remember the kitna deti hai advertisement of Maruti)
An entire family on a two wheeler - Miya Biwi Bachon Samet
Toddlers reciting nursery rhymes to guests
Living rooms with vases full of dusty arificial flowers and souviners
A doting mother who is a housewife (and has full potential to be a corporate manager)
A penny-wise father who never shops for himself
A BSNL landline
Garib Rath
The dream to buy a sedan and a real estate property
A maid who is unreliable
A liftman and a security guard
A dhobi, doodhwala & maali
Family unions on Diwali & Holi (and may be on Christmas, New Year and Eid)
Haggling with a vegetable vendor for the best price
Haggling with a retail shop vendor for the best price
An IRCTC website login
A lohe ki kadhai and tawa
A relative in the US of A
A job in MNC
A job with the Government
A dream to be an IAS officer (or an IPS or IFS or IES)
An eye on the stock market
An arranged marriage
A Shah Rukh Khan movie
A Zeenat Aman (and a Rakhi Sawant)
A joint family
A nuclear family
A loving sister
A caring brother
A caring wife
A loving husband
A nagging wife
A questioning husband
A mister and his misus

And..... ek packet ummeed!

Secrets of Mumbai

In my more than two years' stay in Mumbai I have discovered many treasures which I think are unique to this city. They are not necessarily places/monuments but are rather means to derive small joys in this otherwise fast life in a metro.

A non-exhaustive list, in no order of preference, follows.

Food
Sandwiches at Sukh Sagar across the VT subway
Green Chilly ice-cream at Bachelor's, Girgaum Chowpaty
Cafe Churchil's Spinach and Corn Lasagne
Pastries at Theobroma in Colaba
Authentic Punjabi cuisine at Papa Pancho da Dhaba, Bandra (Must tries: Chaat & Stuffed Parathas. Don;t forget to ask for their amazingly fresh white butter)
Coffee at Cafe Sea Side, Bandstand (The menu is rather short and food quality not up to the mark. The place offers an amazing view of the sun setting in the Arabian Sea.)
Thali at Rajdhani
Cafe Mondegar and Leopold in Colaba
Pao Bhaji at Amar Juice Centre, Irla
Kulfi, Pao Bhaji, Pani Puri, Gola at Juhu and Girgaum Chowpatty
South Indian cuisine at Mani's Lunch Home, Matunga
Dosa at Babulnath Dosa Centre
Gulabjamuns at Sweet Bengal, Maker Arcade, Cuffe Parade
Dal Makhni and Stuffed Parathas at Happy Singh, Sakinaka
Chinese food at 5 Spice, Sakinaka, Fort and Pali Naka (Bandra)
Misal Pao at any road-side stall/restaurant
USS Club in Navy Nagar (entry only to defense personnels)
Chhas in a beer bottle at Bhagat Tarachand in Kalbadevi
Flavoured teas at Aromas, Hiranandani Gardens, Powai

Monuments
Victoria Terminus
Deutche Bank building in Fort area
Mumbai High Court
Rajabai Clock Tower, Mumbai University
Brihanmumbai Mahanagarpalika Building
St. Xaviers College, VT
Flora Fountain
Horniman Circle
Library of the Asiatic Society
Bombay Stock Exchange (a modern age monument indeed. This is where the address reads Dalal Street, Mumbai - 400 001)
Gateway of India

Galleries
Prince of Wales Museum (now called, the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya)
National Gallery of Modern Art
Jehangir Art Gallery (and the roadside art gallery)

Festivals
Kalaghoda Art Festival

Markets
Electronics bazaar at Lamington Road
Perfume shopping at Alfa Market, Irla
Fort Market with shops selling everything from mobile chargers and cheap electronics to accesories.
Saree shopping at Dadar (though have never done this, but have suggested it to many friends)
Handbags, antiques, belts and accesories from Colaba Causeway
Fleas market in Kalbadevi and Oshiwara
Narrow lanes of Crawford Market full of household stuff
Flower and Vegetable market of Dadar
Kolhapuri slipper shops at Bandra

Leisure
Plays at Prithvi Theatre, followed by coffee and dinner at Prithvi Cafe
Walk on the Marine Drive (or a late night chat session with cvlose friends). All the way from Nariman Point to Chowpaty.
An evening at Jogger's Park, Bandra

Spiritual
Temple trail of Sidhivinayak, Mumba Devi and Mahalakshmi
Ganesh Visarjan at Powai Lake
Iscon Temple, Juhu

Well, this is my list. Am sure you have yours too!

The 10 Rupee fix

My 7 year old rampyaari, My TVS Victor, has been a subject of my neglect very often.
The poor thing also falls victim to Mumbai Police's strategy of ever-changing no-parking areas.

Some months back, me and my colleague decided to go to the near-by Naturals Icecream Shop taking a small break from office. I parked my bike at the place where I have been parking it over the past 2 years. We had a lovely double scoop each and came out only to find the bike missing. Seeing policewallahs and a towing van on the road outside gave me the idea as to what would have happened. Needless to say, I had parked my bike at a newly identified no parking zone and it was happily towed away by the sincere Mumbai Police.

It was with much mehnat mashakkat that I could retrieve my bike. What an ordeal that was!

With this episode over, I realised my pyaari raampyaari was making a kind of gumpy sound when I raised the acceleration. First, I ignored it but then had to figire out as to which bolt was loose. To my dismay, I found that the front mud-guard (the semi cricular covering over the front wheel) had developed a big crack and was about to split into two pieces. Must have been due to the manhandling by the towing van gues, I rationalised.

While I had no intentions of buying a new mud-guard, I decided on taking it to the nearby road-side mechanic to fix it. He looked at it and happily announced that it needed a replacement. Nothing else will help. Determined to not to buy a new peice, I decided to return. As I kicked the bike to a start, this intelligent chap came up with a very ingenious idea. The chutki mein chipyae, FeviQuick! What a quick fix (the pun is indeed intended). And I must say a pretty durable one also. And the price..... Rs. 10 ONLY! That is damn damn cheap by any standards, given that a new one would have coosted me atleast Rs. 600.

I have been happily driving my bike eversince and had almost forgotten this incident.... Now that I have to transport my bike to Faridabad, I am again worried that it might lead the crack to resurface.

But then as they say, in India we have a jugaad for everything. Am pretty convinced that there will be somebody in Faridabad, ready to offer me his quick fix!

To be or not to be

We often face dilemma. At times its forced upon us. And, we feel we would have been better off if we never had choices in the first place.
Choices empower you. It is such an overwhelming experience.
They also make life miserable. While on one hand we are excited to take a stand, on the other we also dread making a wrong choice. It is like a sword hanging on you head all the time.

In the past two weeks, I have felt miserable, joyous, thrilled, depressed, confused, sorted and puzzled. All at the same time.

A while back I had made a simple choice, and I was pretty satisfied with what I had on hand. And suddenly over the last two weeks, I saw myself embroiled in this big mess which made me just go ZAP! It felt I would just throw up any moment. There seemed to be no metric which could help me make the right decision. But, there WAS NO right or left, let aside wrong. I just needed to decide.

It was one of the most important and most thought after decision I would have ever made in my life.

All thanks to certain external agents whose ethics I question, and who had put me in a position to question my ethos.

Thank God! am all sorted now.
I am at peace.

Homecoming

A friend and my ex-roommate, Nanda, returned from the US of A today for a small vacation after a gap of 6 months.
My first reaction as I entered my apartment, and saw him staring at me in my face, was - "What! You are still in the same clothes you left India in!". And the memories of the past flashed by. Happy Memories.
I could not even imagine that I was meeting him after such a long time.6 Months!

This is what Nanda is saying:
Airport se bahar atey hi maine bahar road pe construction dekha....
Arrey yeh Nile shampoo ki bottle abhi bhi shelf pe rakhi hai.
Yeh bathroom mein geyser ka switch abhi bhi rtoota hua hai.
Mujhe papad khane hain.
Mujhe to neend hi nahin aa rahi hai.
Arey yeh right hand drive.....
Main yahan pe gaadi nahin chala sakta.
Mujhe lag raha hai main mota ho gaya hoon.

Welcome home Mr NRI. Have a comfortable say. This is what I can say!