4 years

To this:)
Wow! Couldn't have imagined that what started out as a small bus ride changed our lives completely. While I was a aimless drifter, I now am a family man. The young girl so completely lost in her small world of thesis, friends and aversion to carbonated drinks has now become my partner and guide in life. The house I lived in is now a home. Furniture, neatness, show pieces, kaam waali bai, small and big fights, inquisitive neighbours, our own private space.......we have it all. We have goals, and reasons to acheive them. We have each other's families that we love, and love to talk about. And most importantly we have each other.

So for all that, thank you love! I know you weren't too keen on marriage when we first met each other. I know that I am not all you would have wanted in your husband, neither am I not all that you did not want in him. But I promise to cherish you and love you for the rest of my life.

Roundtable Update

I've noticed that I've often spoken of myself in the third person on this blog. I've even circulated a resume in which I've spoken of myself in the third person. Any recruiter unlucky enough to view it must have wondered of my need of an agent to represent myself. Filthy habit I hope not to repeat.

Anyway, I'm back on this blog after a hiatus of around two years. Much has happened in my life during this interval. On the personal front mostly. I am now a happily married man. I've married the girl I courted for over three years. Funny how far we have reached from these humble beginnings. I have been lucky. We'll be completing three months in just about a week.

Work front, I have survived a merger, and may benefit subsequently.

Life may not be exactly Bondesque but I am living in interesting times. Not to say that the world is humdrum, with all the economic crisis, political games and terrorist plots around, I am sure there will be lots to write about.

So watch out. I sometimes wonder if there is anybody that reads my blog. I suspect my wife comes here occasionally, but apart from her I fear I mostly write to an empty house. Do prove me incorrect by leaving a note.

Life or something like that

This will probably be my last entry from India for a while. Am leaving for Philadelphia tomorrow. Heard its very cold out there. We'll see about that. Did a lot of shopping for the journey this last week, and talked a lot to ma and pa about stuff in general. They are happy for me, but sad about me being away for so long. Dada has been sulking the last few days but that probably does not have to do with my departure.

Got a chance to get updates on some of my old engineering friends this past week. It seems Sher Khan has cracked all the public sector exams there were to crack, and now is living his dream of a lifetime of relaxation on the tax payers money. Dogra was one of the seven engineers selected on a national basis for the indian navy's design corp, and has already become a leiutenant (pardon my french) and privy to national secrets. Bhatti has cracked GMAT with a 730 score and with his background should manage one of Harvard, Stanford or Michigan. Speaking of which Dasti has already managed to secure an MBA admission from the Univ of Michigan, which now officially places me and my MBA institute low down in the list of also rans, so much for the great indian education system.

Next year it'll be ten years since we all first met. Its funny, how we motley crew of friends, the perennial underacheivers and the couldn't care less brigade sans the attitude, whose only appreciable though not laudable acheivement was to be able to down cups after cups of that bland 'Buddhi ka moot'(Buddhi btw was the emaciated, bow backed, grumpy tea stall owner at moti's campus), and wonder when is it that we would get laid, manage accomplishments that could be looked upon wih admiration.

Fundu is a much hyped and abused term, hyped and glorified to the extent that one would not want to be associated with the term fearing the burden of expectation. Bhatti was right about the fundus. Being a fundu is simple, just have your fundamentals right. You don't need to be sharp and on the edge all the time, in the long run you'd have proven yourself.

Am I dumb or am I dumber

I have a dual personality syndrome I guess, times when I am just plain stupid and then the other times when I am comfortably dumb. It's a no contest, I am the most stupid person in the world when I set my mind to it.
In my previous post I contested those who say that school is cruel on children. Today I concede on certain grounds. There were days when school makes you feel like burying your head under the sand.
One such day was when R exposed my stupidity in a way that even Bluebeard would consider cruel on an 8 year old. He was a couple of years older than me, R ie, not Bluebeard. His parents had enrolled him in school late or something. Or I was enrolled early. Anyway, what happened was that I'd forgotten my sketchpens for the afternoon drawing class. R told me that he'd give me his as he was taking a half day. I was probably too grateful, so grateful that I did not even question him when, during lunch when the children were out playing, he took out the sketchpens not from his bag but from D's bag and asked me to use them. I kinda knew that a trick was being played on me but my primitive mind could not comprehend the magnitude of it. Or probably my mind is just an illusion.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you can guess what happened. D was my seat neighbour and she screamed when she saw me using her sketchpens during the drawing class. My teacher caned me and I was left branded a thief.
I suck, don't I? Picture this. A couple of years pass by and you'd expect what my father used to say 'some sense' in me. An ample display of the futility of the expectation was when school decided to give us a surprise half day. It surprised me, no doubt, so much so that my brain went dead and I went off to fly kites with A, expecting to be back in school by 3 when my mom would come to pick up my dada and me. My mom doesn't work, or that day might as well have been a half day for the entire family. Technically that is.
The only excuse I have for my thickness is that my brain goes dead occasionally. And when it does that, it does so in two ways. Sometimes everything gets dizzy and I find it hard to stand. At other times I chose to be oblivious to things that are painfully obvious. I am still suffering, predominantly from the second type of brain damage. You could say you could be not stupid if you chose to be (or not to be). But the fact is wherever I get the option I would definitely be stupid. For me there is no choice.

The best days of our lives

My parents chose the blue pill for me, and I was left where everybody else was. When the competition was over and my parents were satisfied I turned to look over my shoulder and found my friends missing. I was now part of a bigger crowd, a different crowd who spoke a different language. I nodded and murmered. I adjusted. Sometimes but I also suffocated.
If you are at a party and you turn towards the corners of wherever that party is happening, you will see them. The ones who are lost, with or without an invitation. Extrapolate this into any scenario and you'll find all the lost in the world. And there are a lot of them, the dance floor may be empty, but the corners never are. And they make a good team together. They laugh and joke louder than the people who belong. But beneath that veneer of mirth there lies a troubled soul searching to understand something about himself that he knows nobody else can.. longing for something that he knows he can't find here, and in all probabilities anywhere else too. I belong to the corner. I get nostalgic pretty easily. Good times are not easily forgotten. So in an attempt to recreate my childhood and teen years I will start writing about my good old days as an ode to my old friends long out of touch but never forgotten. Hope you all are doing well buddies.
The first time I admitted I was turning into a loner was to A when I borrowed his bike for a long midnight ride. He was surprised 'Kya ho raha hai tereko? Tu badal raha hai.' He was right. I wasn't like this always. I really blended in well at school.
They say school is cruel on children. They exaggerate. Girls in the first bench giggling when I enter the class late was but a momentory torment happily avenged through derogatory notes circulated for the amusement of us guys. The giggles continued particularly as my pants were perpetually short for my fast growing legs, but the notes seemed meaningless after sometime. One started sympathising with objects of continuous derision. Tables have been turned in the years gone by, the ducklings has undergone mass transformation into beautiful swans with hearts turned avengefully cold.
The nerds have taken the world by storm, slick hair, mom woven half-sweaters and all. Perhaps I have outrun all of them. But I always liked the company of the funny guys. The funny guys are still funny. The mom-and-dad corner shops, run by their moms or dads are still the hangout for some of us. I joined them with P, who's now heading a comp sci department in one of the local colleges last time I went home. The laughter was still as infectious as in school when some of us in the back bench would snicker at length leaving the rest of the class in unscratchable curiosity as to whom the joke was on. But somehow, behind all these regales and laughter is a implicit common longing of those who have been left behind to get out. The one bully of our class now drives the cab beautifully. He joins us for our afternoon tea and gives us free cab rides sometimes to the market. The tables have turned, the balance has tilted and those on the wrong side of the fulcrum have found themselves hurled unforgivingly into the everyday churn of purposeless tasks. The ones on the right side at least have more to show for it.
Most of the girls who would still talk to us are married. I guess the rest are married too. B too went to Delhi and got married to a nerd from another town. I wonder if she remembers me. I guess she will, she was my first crush and she knew it. The prettiest swan in the first bench.

Almost my type

Just to let you know, I've avoided that free fall:).

Have you ever met a girl who's almost the girl you were looking for in your dreams? Almost, but not just quite because of a minor conflict of interest??

'Hi'
'Hi'
'Is the bus always this crowded?'
'Usually it's more'.
Awkward silence ensues.. till
'You're Khasi?'
'No. You?'
'No..... You don't look like one too.' with a feeble attempt at a smile.
'Neither do you' broad smile...
Smooth.....

Turns out we're from the same batch, different schools and have friends, rather acquaintances in common. Thereoon we have so much to talk about, on the way to the university. When you are travelling in a bus on a hill station with winding roads, there is bound to be swaying, but i can swear there was no discomfort in either of us generally expected in strangers.

Asked her to have lunch with me at the end of the bus ride, and she agreed. We met again after I did what i came to do in the university. It was too early for lunch. So we walked and walked, across one of the most beautiful campus in the country. And then we walked some more.

'Why do you think I should get married?'
'Because you're my age, which is ....' awkward pause
'No, why?'
'Because you need somebody to take care of you and all that..'
'I can take care of myself. Besides my parents will take care of me and I of them'.
'Hmmmm!'
Smiles all around.

We went to town for lunch in a cramped up cab. No discomfort again. She treated me. I felt like an ass, she being still a student, and me working. Lots of discomfort here but she would not have it any other way, and I just did not want to argue. Family in the next table. Baby screaming.
'That's another problem with marriage'.
Can't believe it. We're soulmates. 'Yeah that's a problem allright'.
'I like kids though, other people's kids'... cute mischevious smile.
'Well I can't stand them in general'.. attempt at a sheepish grin.

I have her number and she my mail id. Doubt we'll try to contact each other though. Sometimes it's more enjoyable to look back at things and wonder 'What if?'.