X

Sometimes you ponder over such trivial issues and after a while you think what a weird thought it was! It happens frequently with me.
This time I was studying some algebraic equations with my bright table lamp ON, emanating white candescent light, with all the small tiny creatures girthing around the lamp. Miffed with all the complexities of finding the unknown with the rarest known values, I started pondering over the variable ‘x’ which one usually uses in solving equations.
Why does one uses an X so frequently and not any other variable? Its not a hard and fast rule to use ‘X’ to signify the unknown value but the stereotyped primary education always taught us to use an ‘X’ whenever we faced questions like ‘Ram bought a dozen apple for 24. How much does an apple cost’? In spite of inflation eating out the common mans budgeting plan and daily life , the NCERT books still show the price of a dozen apple to be 24. Guys! At least update the price to the latest trend so that the kids can feel inflation creeping our lives.

Anyhow, I was at ‘x’ and was thinking how many times it must have been used. I was thinking about the appearance of the alphabet and found it to be very artistic and beautiful. The other version using the curvaceous lines and not the jagged ones has symmetry and appeals soothingly to ones eye. Not that any other alphabet is asymmetrical (read ‘H’,’V’,’W’ for examples) but ‘X’ with its curves stands apart.

Mulling over such a trivial issue took me places in my thoughts. Soon I realized its time to stop. Sometimes thoughts give you such a weird feeling that you think Was that a thing to be thinked ? But thinking has no rules to follow. So you can literally stride your imagination to places. Weird or not – a thought is a thought.

Two faces of India

Recently I read a piece of news which was about the interiors

 of Rajasthan.A remote village, nowhere to be seen on the map,

was in the news because of the natives accustomed to age old 

tradition of 'satitva-test'. The news was shocking and depressing

 as the test was aimed to find whether a female is 

disloyal to her husband or not. 

Satitva being the true test of her being pristine, as all the villagers 

believed was practised by dipping the test-taker's hand in a bowl

 of hot boiling oil.If her hand gets burnt, she is not considered to 

be loyal. If it doesnt, she is loyal.Later disloyal female was beaten

black and blue by villagers by hot iron-rods and thenwas thorwn

at her doorsteps. The family later beat her up and left her stranded.

Reading the story left me shivered. Thinking about the plight of the

woman a feeling of distress and disturbance ran through me. It made 

me think whether we, as a country, are really progressing as a whole 

or is therea great void being created between the urban and rural India.

I think India currently has two faces. 

Customs and traditions are an integral part of indian culture but the 

traditions designed by the chauvinistic male society on thier terms 

and conditions and suited to their fantasies should be abolished 

and such acts need to be punished severily.

India is preogressing, prospering and growing. But is this the real growth. 

Growth has tobe uniform in a ll aspects. Growth is not only in financial 

position or production or education. Is the thinking process of the society 

actually growing? Are we thinking aboutthe upliftment of ideologies? 

These questions are, i think, tough nuts to crack and needs 

a deep thought and analysis.

I drive on a highway...

I drive on a highway...

I can keep on having a smooth ride ... 

But i wish to go through a tunnel...

A tunnel, am not sure of whether it has an opening on the other end ...

or rather I must say whether I am gonna find one...

But I still enter it in hope of finding one ...

Its dark out there and i can see nothing...

Though, Here and there,sometimes, I can see glimpses of striking light...

I run towards them, in hope of them being my torch-bearers...

But they are a momentary gasps of relief...

I feel If i would find the end within time...

Or would i succumb to the turbulence and turmoil...

A journey which i intended as a volition...

What if it becomes a consternation...

With every hope-ending I assure myself of a positive beginning...

I sometimes think whether am running away from facts which are happening...

I feel an urge to stop travel further and end it abruptly in the midddle...

Frustated, tired, exhausted ... but then i start it again...

In hope of finding the end I inhibit my negative emotions...

If i find the end ...will I be happy? 

Or would it be just a beginning of another tunnel ???

TZP to Oscars

So TZP made it to the Oscars as the official entry to the foreign film category.

Taare Zameen Par had all the ingredients to make it a sensible, thought-provoking, 

Artistic yet commercial movie. It is very difficult to blend the commercial angle along with the flavour of sensitive and artistic cinema. TZP managed that. Though the other

Films were also quite a competition, but TZP had some brilliant features to it

which stood her apart from other contenders. Besides a brilliant direction, I think what 

worked largely for the film was its music score. Apart from the regular tracks, the background score just churned out emotions at the right moment in accordance with the scene. 

Darsheel's acting was no doubt worth applauding, but the other factors which led to the

emotional grab which the movie could generate were factors like superb screen play, taut

editing and impeccable direction.

I hope that TZP wins the oscars this time.

Acheiving success is not difficult, sustaining the position is rather more gruelling.

Creating another film with same cinematic-quality would definitely be a challenging task for

Aamir Khan and winning an oscar would definitely provide him inspiration and motivation to create another piece of art.

BC guys!

This sounds weird and may be offensive too but i had to name the article with this

as my writing is all centered around it and i couldn't find any heading better than this.

I always spend more time to find an apt title for my article rather than writing the content.

Anyhow this story didn't happen once upon a time . It happened just a few days back

when i went to one of the banks to fetch a form for my friend. As it was the last but one 

day for the forms to be on sale there was a humongous line at the counter.

The line looked like a spiralled-serpent, moving very slowly. 

My friend has this habit of procrastinating things, just like me, and i hate him for that.

I cursed him for making me wait in the line, that too at 4 in the evening when the 

sun plays his second innings, the former having been played at 12 noon. 

i was cursing him continuously and suddenly two guys in front of me drew my attention towards them.

Clad in a zittang orange shirt and green jeans (yuck!), both had got their hair dyed with henna

and had a hairstyle which was an amalgamation of Mr. APJ Abdul kalam's and salman khan's(of tere naam) hairstyle

They spoke screamingly and were constantly uttering abusive language. 

A various kind of maa-behan ki gaalis were churning out from their mouth just like water gushes out from a hoarse pipe.

They applied all their creative talent in forming new gaalis, which i had never heard before - neologism applied.

One has to draw a line somewhere, they had made certain they wont. Despite there being a lot of females in the adjacent line

they did not stop. Before them stood a middle-aged man, of whom also they did not take notice.

I have always found these kind of guys everywhere, specially in a cinema hall. I feel the greatest innovation

in the field of cinema is that of exhibiting films in multiplexes. One can expect people with some ethics out there.

I remember once i went to watch a film with my family and in spite of the film being a total family UN ENTERTAINER,

people did not stop abusing the films performers. Some loud comments were cheap enough to put me in an embarrassing position.

Add to this was the major laser toy which became famous in mid 90s and people used to navigate the laser beam here and there

wanting to draw the viewers attention.

Multiplexes have minimised all these embarrassing moments to a very much extent. 

But this act from BC guys has made me think what makes them act like this? Is it a feeling of virtual heroism 

- by cracking some tongue-in-cheek one-liners and getting a hearty laugh from their friends Or is it just a part of 

their nature. I think most of the people would agree to the previous supposition?

I also thought that may be they will mature with time. But one day i found quite a few BC MEN also.

So age and time doesn't really inculcate maturity.

This attitude of BC guys can not be changed. Education brings change. Literacy rate has been increasing but despite more 

and more people becoming literate, the BC guys keep on increasing. 

The community is increasing and evolving by applying their talent enhancing their lingo regularly.

One can not do anything but avoid them.

Sometimes Ignorance is really a BLISS.  

I miss you.

I miss my Bajaj Classic. I have some fond memories of the vehicle which I cherish everynow and then.I learnt driving with my so called "UP93". I used to call my scooter with this name as, my friend (Gaurav Mutreja) named it.I liked calling it by this name. The reason behind this naming, as many of you would have guessed, was the vehcile number.The number plate read UP93-C8004. It was a Bajaj model:Bajaj Classic, metallic blue in colour. My dad bought it way backin 1997. I got the opportunity to ride it in 2000. I was 16 then. What is it with this age of SIXTEEN that once you attain it, you think youself as a young man. Is it the consequence of passing yourhigher-secondary examination,a tryst with the so called COMPETITION or just sheer knowledge of SEX which makes one think "I have grown up". I still havent found an answer to this psychological transformation of oneself. But I remember that was the time when I decided to learn driving. My dad was apprehensive about itbecause of the various accidents i had indulged myself into during my cycle riding days. Once i forgot to apply brakes andfound myself dumped in a dry drain with a fractured hand.Many more incidents like this made my dad not to allow me to drive.
But I had turned 16. So one fine day I took the vehicle out of my house. I knew how to start it but I did not know the concepts of gear.I only knew that my dad used to roatae his left wrist and that has to do something with gears. Thanks to my luck, the gear was set to neutral. I kick-started the scooter, removed it from the stand but couldnt figure outwhy it did not move. "Oh the gear-concept",I recollected. I also twisted my left wrist and ghaarrrrrannng. I had released the clutch with an impulse and the scooter jumped in the sky just like a horse stands on his two back legs. I fell on the road and hurt my bums badly. But i didnt loose hope and tried it again, this time releasing the clutch in a relatively softermanner. The vehicle started to move. It filled in me an immense feeeling of joy. A feeling of joy as comparable to one which MAN would have got by inventing the wheel or the fire. The feeling was irreplacable. Within no time i was speeding my UP93 and I was busy talking to the wind. I felt the wind gushing beneath my earlobeand it felt awesome. Speed fascinates- I started to believe. From there on, I regularly started using my UP93 to commute from here and there.Dad was still not happy with my act. Later I used the UP93 to go to school and tuitions and to the nearest cinema hall on every friday during the school bunks.I fulfilled every desire of mine with my vehicle, like driving without using my hands , driving while standing on the foot restand all other kind of stunts which one usually explores while in the later teens.The only wish left was to ride a girl pillion on my UP93. but couldnt get it done during my school days.
After my 12th, I shifted to pune to pursue graduation. During my first year of grad I did not have any vehicle with me and that was the first time when I strongly missed UP93. At the very start of my second year I decided to bring back UP93from jaipur. I asked Dad if he could arrange to send it through the railways. I doubted on him assenting to my decision.But to my surprise he did. After four days I was waiting at the pune railway station's parcel department. I looked for UP93in a pile of other vehicles. "There it is!", I shouted within myself. After completing the formalities, I drove UP93 backto home. Later that day I went to visit the city on UP93. It felt so better, much better than travelling in tumtums orPMT buses. I again felt like meeting the wind but the pune traffic and UP93s age could not let me do so. I realized thatUP93 was ageing. I felt bad.
I used UP93 to commute from home to college to back home: a daily drive of 35 kms along with 4-15 kms of travelling in the evening. Prolonged use of UP93 over the three years of my enginering days had a lasting impact on its condition.During these three years I got the opportunity to seat quite a number of beautiful damsels on UP93. HE was of great support during the examination days and HE never betrayed me in any case of emergency. Though HE broke a number of times during any outing meant for leisure. But never during exams. I started taking HIM for granted and forgot that scooters need maintenace too.After 2 years without a single servicing, the prevalent conditon of UP93 compelled me to visit an auto workshop. The firstservicing was a hefty affair which galloped to 2000 bucks. But i understood the turmoil of the scooter which HE must have undergone during those years of un-serviced conitnuous running. I regretted upon my habbit of procrastinating things.From that year onwards, HE started to demand a servicing session every two months which made me plan my budget every now and then.
After completing my graduation I started working and thanks to the busy life of an IT professional, UP93 became lonely.HE had started responding in 15-20 kicks. Even servicing could not sustain his performance beyond a week. He was going and I could do nothing about it. After few days, I stopped using it totally. If not to me then it came to use for cobwebs and dust. Insects and lizards had found a new home, that two painted with metallic blue. At times when people were living in tin-sheds, insects were living in a house with a painted exterior.I could not bear with the deteriorating condition of UP93. But I could not help. I decided to shift to jaipur and time hadcome to decide the fate of UP93. I decided to sell off UP93. I found a customer in the form of an auto mechanic: M Khan,whose shop was near by. I sold UP93 some days before my departure from pune. I felt bad. A day later I was passing by Khan's shop and I saw UP93. It was disjointed in N number of pieces, with every possible part seperated from the body. The handle along with the headlight lied on the ground, tilted, with the light facing me.It looked like a hen which had been beheaded, and its head layed facing you and staring at you with ailing eyes, tryingto ask its fault after innumerable eggs it had been laying for you.
I had a strong feeling of remorse.
.......
I MISS YOU UP93.

A visit to Uncle Sam's place (Continued) ...

I was climbing a steep hill, dense with vegetation.As i reached the summit I heard roaring noises. At the top of the hill what i saw was unbelievable. There was a pond at the centre of the terrain and a group of lions was serving themself on the pond. I never heard thatlion or tiger or any other kind of carnivorous animal aggroup. The discovery usually shows them hunting and roaming all alone.This was not the time to think whether lion moved in a group or not. The group affrighted me. Sensing me around, oneof the beast turned around and communicated his finding to his members in a language alien to me.I saw the whole group heading towards me. I turned and started to flee. The group waas chasing me. The situation was very tense and horrifying but my active brain did not stop churning weird thoughts. I was running so fast that i thought if therewas some technology to replace someone from a particlar scene, I would have definitely wanted to replace the group withan thelete of the calibre of P.T Usha. I would have definitely won. But this was a race for life. I showed courageto see behind and my heart thumped. One of the animal was barely 2-3 meters behind me and it took a large jump to grab me.Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... What the hell. Lions do not beep, they roar. Oh my god it was the alarm clock.I Thanked God. t was a nightmare, which could have led to another. I was already an hour late. My peers would have started working. So I got ready and went to office. The workplace was a single-storey red brick buildingwith an exquisite pond adjacent to it, which had quite a number of white ducks. The workplace was a visual treat.Well no need to mention here that i worked all day long.
Tech-savvy guys buy a lot of gadgets from US but I aint one. Yet i thought of buying a digital camera. I went to a well known electronics store to check some of the latest model. I liked almost all of them, mostly the one with a huge price tag.I selected one model and searched someone to enquire about it. I found a salesman nearby. "I would like to know more about this piece", I said."Every thing has been displayed Sir. There is no information left to be told",He said. I knew this, still I had to ask such a silly question."Well, I wanted to know about the prices and all". "The price tag tells you that Sir". Again I made myself feel embarrassed. Finally for the third time I said, "Actually I wanted to know the final price after adding up all the taxes and all". 'And all' is such a helping phrase.It saves you instantly when you are short of words or in a embarrassing situation. It did help me. I felt so embarrassedabout this whole incident of me asking such trivial questions to the salesman. But I did not know that now it was thesalesman's turn to get embarrass. He took me to the cash counter. The model which i selected was of 300$. He read the priceand opened a document to check for the tax rate."How much is it?", I asked. "Seven Percent", he said staring at me."Ok!", I looked elsewhere."mmm 300 is the price plus seven percent of it i.e 21$. So total comes out to be 321$", I caluclated mentally. I wanted to be faster than him so as to tell him that we are intelligent and more comfortable withmathematics as we belong to the land of Aryabhatta and Shakuntla devi. So i quickly turned to him but he looked confused. He had yet not started the calculation.He used the calculator application from windows to calulate the tax amount. Unluckily he typed in worng data and shouted at himself. He pressed the keys of the keyboard in a frenzy and the computer hanged. Calculating seven percent hangs the computer out there. Any Mr Gates know this? He left playing with his desktop and found a pocket calculator inside the drawer.He siwtched it ON but,to his surprise, it did not have battery. Looking frustrated he searched for help. I felt verysatiated from inside. I thought of telling him that its 321$ and wanted to teach him basic mathematical operations which could help him in such a disastrous situation. I told him."Thanks", he said but still staring. So I dropped the idea of teaching him basic mathematical operations. "Sorry! I wont be albe to buy it", I said and quickyl turned to the exit door and walked away. I am sure he musthave stared at me for a long time.

A visit to Uncle Sam's place

I am a cunctator. Me posting this aricle is the very proof of my aforesaid statement.I have visited the United States Of America twice. The first trip happened in June-July 07("YES! I am a procrastinator") and the second one in spine chilling winters of Nov-Dec07.
I visited the city of Champaign, situated in Illinois state. Oops! I forgot to mention that both the trips were work related and not junkets.
I flew from Mumbai to Champaign via London,Chicago. The last flight, the one from Chicago to Champaign, was merely of 30 minutes duration.Also, the commuters on the path were few.So, the aircraft was also as per the need. The Brobdingnagian aircraft made a lasting impression on me.The machine was so huge that one could touch the extreme ends of the aircraft if one could extend one's arms a little wide.
After about thirty minutes of take-off, the aircraft began to descend. I COINCIDENTALLY had a window-seat(the sitting layout of the aircraft was- one seat, the aisle and a pair of seats).As i looked down, I could see a large barren land with very less but weird kind of grass.I thought the aircraft is taking an emergency landing(Because America did not have barren lands- as assumed by a lot of unacquainted indians like me) but as I am always wrong, this was indeed Champaign.I was let down.
I can explain the champaign airport in terms of any indian railway station . Though most of the readers would be thinking how can I do this.The Champaign airport was almost like a railway station of a small Indian city or I must say a village, like champaner.Although the airport was far more embellished than the railway station but the flight and the traffic volume was easily comparable to that of an Indian village railway station.
Finally I took a taxi and went to my hotel. The journey was tiring and I did not experience a Jet Lag.Here, I would like to mention that I have never experienced things at the first-go. I did not get high when i drank for the first time. So I stopped drinking and started guzzling. Even guzzling did not help.
My hotel room was beautiful with all the basic amenities. I unpacked my bags and realised that I was thirsty.I looked up in the refrigerator. There was no sign of any water bottle out there. I called up the front desk. "Hi! I was looking for some water", I said. "Come Again!", was the reply. "I can not find drinking water in my room"."Oh ! you mean Waateyhr(read WATER)". "Yes", I said."Come down to the ground floor and get some from the vending machine".I went down and was looking for a glass and soon i found it. Though an indian will always think of it as a tumbler(because of its size), but people out there call it a glass -that too of an XLsize.
I filled up my glass and quenched my thirst.
(To be continued ...)

The truth of Life.

The blatant truth of life is that it always gives you a chance to stand up and reconstruct your hopes , your dreams whenever you fall. Its up to an individual that he/she wants to grab that opportunity back or just keep on blaspheming the bad time he/she has suffered.
There are two kind of people in this world. You can classify them as winners or loosers, optimist or pessimist. The former always have the propensity to grab the so called opportunity and mould it as a ladder to thier path of success whereas the latter always enjoy avoiding such scenarios.

The pessimist believes in things like fate and are largely driven by the concepts of luck and destiny. The optimist on the other hand believes in creating the fate and destiny with their own hands. They beleive in shaping up their future with thier own skills and capabilities.

The optimist always say "After dark there is always light ... after the night there is always a day", the pessemist argues "So What! there will be night again when the sun sets" for which the optimist replies "While in the light arrange for the candles for the darkness which is bound to come..." .

The winning streak of the optimists is a result of this attitude of them which makes them stand apart from the crowd of pessimists.