Office's Choice Diaries Part 1

In office.
Working.
Not working.
Listening to presentation.
Talking on phone.
Preparing an SCQ.
Trying to work.
Open Blogspot.com.
Unusually there's access.
I write.
I erase.
I don't know what to write.
I write random stuff.

Not a very good thing to be doing while in office.
[Excerpts from a post lunch session at office. ]

I hate to, I don't want to, but I have to leave.

I will miss you, D, more than any word in any language can express. I am silent. I can't take it no more. I love you.

Drops of salty hot water slide down as I fumble to wipe them. I will be with you, always.

Last 6 days in the City of Joy.

The rain lashed at me. I was not alone. The wind was more than just a summer breeze. And I felt like living the Titanic love with arms wide open, with you.

It was phenomenal today. It was magical today. It was special today.

As we wind up 15 months, I realize the desperate futility of those numbers. After all, numbers are there to just make up numbers. Our number is "Eternity & Forever".

Someday, some day ...

I am an engineer.
B.E.(Chemical) with Hons.

A way of life ends. Another begins.

Failed, A lesson

Somehow, it suddenly strikes me. There's not much I've learnt in the 4 years of graduate school. Knowing myself, I happen to learn more when I am motivated to do so. Motivation works 2 ways. One, when someone motivates you to learn. Two, when you yourself want to learn. It hardly worked either way in the last 4 years or some years even before.

I am partly to blame. But I would also think of the inability of the ones, who 'taught' me, to motivate me to know. Wherever I look around here, it's the same scenario. Mindless numbed gulping down of heterogeneous information and puked up splash of ink on the answer scripts. The fault lies as much with the "taught" as the "teachers". Somewhere down the line, having been pushed around in the rugged terrain of rote learning, I fell, I cut myself, and in an effort to survive with an air of leisure, I chalked out a trail where there would be minimal rote & puke, and yet minimal effort to pursue the aura to learn. I succeeded, yet I failed. I failed in that inspite of knowing where the path leads, I didn't follow my heart. I failed in that I ended up being a glorious nobody than a knowing-something-in-its-true-fundamentals anybody. I failed in that being aware of my abilities and potential, I have almost thrown it all away.

It's an education, a lesson. Perhaps, the most important of them all I've learnt is knowing I have failed.

I happened to clean my closet today. Things came tumbling out. I told D I will give her some of my most precious possessions, for life. Those small toys and tazos and cards and stickers and corals, they are as she said, remnants of a childhood. A child at heart, I am. At the end of everything, such small mementos and moments matter more to me than all those sparkled gifts.

The Eden redemption

Saturday, April 2, 2011

The script could have been more perfect. Just because it could have doesn’t mean it should have.

I have dreamt about this night. It’s been years. It’s an archaic feeling. It didn’t take me much time for it to sink in. It’s been a long time coming.

Feelings, unmatched, by the sheer intense grit of the passion that burst through the seams holding the seemingly tied-down being. The cacophony surrounding the path to illuminated euphoria drowned amidst the tears of joy. The men have found their heroes. The heroes have found their glory. I have found my redemption.

This love story of mine, which began at the Eden with a certain bespectacled gentleman named Kumble snapping up six and outclassing a sublime Lara, which found its first heartbreak at the same ground with the collapse of a colossal Tendulkar and a hopes of an entire nation, which reached the epitome of brilliance much in the same way you get hallucinated on a high with the unforgettable 2001 saga, which sowed the first seeds of the journey to the billion man’s dream at the Wanderers, finally peaked with The Redemption. I call it the Eden Redemption.

I can’t help but deny, there has been this sense of destiny, a statement corroborated by the man behind the scenes himself. He wanted the Cup. But maybe, he needed it more. It means more than mere statistics. It means more than just a piece of gold plated silverware adorning the awards case. It means more than just a nightlong celebration. It means more than the adulation that comes your way. It means more than scaling a peak which others have scaled before. It means more than being crowned with a tag. It’s something more than my words could ever describe.

He has never played for himself. The critic of him, I have been, I still would say, he has sacrificed everything for a team. A team, which now calls itself, Team India. He was the first one I saw who sported his country’s flag on his helmet. He wore it with pride. And it’s not hard to believe the petty politics dominant more than redundant in this country led to him being chided. He was barred from sporting the tricolor. All those games he was but a shadow of himself. And then, when one fine morning everyone wakes up to a reality, and he is allowed to wear the nation on himself, he is a changed man. He inspired the rest to do the same. Others have vouched for the passion and commitment that one small act has inspired.

He is an enigma, yet his life is an open book. He soars, yet he buries his feet deep in the ground. He dreams, and he turns those dreams to reality. He dreamt for a nation for 21 years, all alone trying to carve those dreams into a true reality. As another 22 year old said, “It’s time we carried him on our shoulders.”

If this had to happen, it had to happen for him. As I say, “It had to.” It’s destiny. It’s redemption.

This victory is about the common man’s dream. It’s about a dream which never died. It’s about a journey which will lead to your utopia but which comes with the voices telling in your ears, “Dream. Persevere. Aspire. Never let go.” It’s about a fight, a fight I take part in as much as you do and he does and she does. It’s about never giving up. It’s about doing your bit. It’s about taking a small step the RDB way, “No country is perfect. We have to make it perfect.” When everything all around you is breaking down, take a moment out. Remember this time, remember this moment. Savour it. Breathe it. Live it. And you won’t be the same again.

Maktub.

I gave the most hilarious 3 hour exam of my life.

Adieu ...

University Cauldron won't churn anymore after today. Just a few exams and a Grand Viva remain.

A journey which began 4 years ago has ended. Almost. There have been highs, there have been lows, abysmally at times. It hasn't sunk in yet. Maybe someday soon, it will.

I have enjoyed every bit of it. Studies were always the last priority, except on the nights before exams.

We have gotten ragged, we have danced, we have sung, we have smoked, we have gotten drunk, we have had weed, we have copied in exams, we have passed, we have tormented teachers, we have bunked, more rarely we have not bunked, we have had innumerable adda sessions, we are the ultimate lyaadhs.

We have had fun. We have lived what they call, "College Life".

Not all of us have been a part or privy to this. Many have been waist deep into "gaants", many of us have been branded "gaantus" and "non-gaantus" alike. But we all take a bit of J.U in our life.

Cheers to all the times we have had,
Good and bad,
We might not be in J.U. always,
But J.U. lives in us