Dismay

"Waky waky!" The speakers on the wall beeped
The figure under wraps on the bed did not budge.
"Waky Waky!!" slightly louder this time
The figure still did not budge.
"Wake up, wake up, wake up" with a tone this time.
Since the bed recorded no active movement, it started vibrating slightly. The room lit up simultaneously and the speakers gave a warning about raising the room temperature before switching to today's sermon.
The now useless wraps were finally unwrapped and the occupant of the bed sat up straight. "Quit wake up alarm" she blurted and the speaker notified "alarm exited. Room temperature set to 23°C"

She got out of her bed and walked to the bathroom. The lights were turned on when she stepped in, but her eyes were accustomed already since the room lights had not gone down. "Great! another bug"

Soulmates - Part 1

People who find their soulmates are extremely lucky. People who find their soulmates are extremely rare. People who believe in soulmates are extremely dumb.

This is a story of two such people. This is a story of hope. This is a story of murderers. But above all, this is a story of soulmates.

Our world was a normal one. We had cities and states and nations. The cities were populated by regular people - 2 eyes, 2 ears, 1 brain and always full of rage. These angry people voted their leaders and those angry leaders made laws. These angry people begrudgingly paid taxes and the angry leaders sanctioned weapons.

One of these weapons was the Ark-II that was fired on China's east coast by the angry, mumbling American leader. (It is widely believed that the leader in question was updating his twitter handle while having a shower of the golden variety, when the liquid interfered with his Mobile and opened the app to launch missiles. Obviously all apps were banned following this incident). Ark-II was a formidable missile publicized as 50x more powerful than the 1st Hiroshima missile. It hit china and reset our world, rendering us to our current form

Which brings us to our current form. Ah! You remember that mad scientist of an entrepreneur who said that this world is likely a simulation created by beings of great power? Well, turns out he was right. Understandably, he was executed by the angry people of his nation for proving them wrong.

The Killer

“Murder, like beer, is an acquired taste. I had my first taste of it when I was pretty young. Obviously I started with small targets - insects. I would trap butterflies and perform repeated strikes with my father’s shoes. When I got bored of them, I used them to capture lizards. At school they taught us that a lizard can grow a new tail if it 'looses' it. My lizard wouldn't grow it back - so I thought of it only fair to punish it for disappointing me. You see, murder, at the crux of it, has only two forms - just like beer. While there is the rapidly fermenting ale, which is the equivalent of my execution of the insects; there is sometimes passion involved in murder, displayed in the slow execution like the bottom fermenting lager beer. I took it limb, by limb, by limb..”

There was stunned silence. It could be because of the visual effect his words had - or because the police were shocked to discover that he speaks. “The lizard was a promised entertainment which failed to deliver - you can understand which way I went.”

“Why..” Somebody murmured “Why is he telling us this?”

“All of that is in the past. The reason I'm telling you this is because I want you to understand that I'm not demented. I qualify the killing of insects as murder - which actually makes me more rational than you as some could argue”

“So if you’re not demented, you must be plain mad!” the officer-in-charge said.

“I was actually tested for this. When my parents found out about my so-called odd behavior, they had me tested for multiple things – including insanity,” the handcuffed man looked up to face the chief “and I tested negative. In fact..” he moved in the seat to sit comfortably “IQ tests conducted as part of the procedures put my IQ above 150 - not that it matters, it’s all a sham anyway.”

Now the chief shifted in his seat.

Sanjay was watching this from across a one-way mirror. He was not allowed to be here, but money often rendered the illegal as overlooked. His friend Sumit had taught him this form of alchemy. Sumit had been his friend since college - 7 years now, and was the brother he never had. Sumit was not without flaws - he had been unfaithful to his wife recently, but still didn't deserve death for that. 

"So what were you doing the death scene?"

"I was... how do I put it? I was mesmerized. I was, for the lack of a better word, enjoying Art"

"Art?"

"Yes. Now don't get me wrong, I don't think the murder was a piece of art - far from it. As you would have noticed, it was sort of clumsy. I think it was poorly planned, if planned at all. But the girl, she had such beautiful eyes. Haunting. It's a pity she was to die - I'd have loved to see those eyes in motion." he paused and made an attempt to say something. The handcuffed man seemed at a loss of words. The chief questioningly looked at his deputy and the deputy shrugged in response. He then continued, "You see, I don't think that murder is a piece of art. But often our passions are aligned, or even lead to the other. I do enjoy art. Are you familiar with 'The death of Chatterton'?  It's a painting from the romantic era. Over the years, I've come to appreciate the beauty in death. I don't celebrate it, or strive to it. We murderers don't tend to create an artistic effect, not by intent at least, but once in a while things just.. Well! They just line up. As they say, there is beauty everywhere. Some days, it's easier to capture it"

"So do you admit that you killed the girl and the man?" the deputy asked. The chief immediately lowered his face into his palms.

"Oh, listen to yourself. You found me sitting by the bodies, staring at the girl. I just admitted I have a proclivity to murder. You have been analyzing me - physically and mentally for the last 20 hours. And still you need to ask me if  I murdered them. You Sir, just gave away your case to me."

"Oh, cut the crap!" the chief screamed.

"Indeed, I will. I do not admit to the murder of the man and the WOMAN. I did murder the spider on the window in room." he smiled. "It's for your own good, you need to learn to do a better job"

Sanjay could not hear the conversation in the room, but he could make out that the police were not closer to convicting the guy. Presently the chief walked out of the room. He approached the chief. "Suri, any progress?" The chief noticed him. "No Sanjay. And you should not be here. go home."

"I will. But give me some update. What do I tell Sumit's wife?"

"All I can say is that we detained this guy because he was staring at the girl through the window of the room in which the murder happened. But we don't have shit on him. No fingerprints, no weapon. For all we know this guy could be mad. He's still here because we do not have any other suspects - can't place anyone near the scene of crime. And also because this guy behaves like he is guilty. Heck, he just informed me of the spots I could hit him where he would heal before his next medical examination. Even I didn't know this. So I'm pretty sure he is the murderer, but we are unable to make a case. And we only have 4 hours to make a case, else we have to let him go"

Sanjay was disheartened. Sumit didn't deserve to die, and he definitely did not deserve to die without redemption for his death.

"Go home now" Suri said.

Sanjay drove to Sumit's home. Sumit's wife, Maya was still crying. She looked expectantly towards Sanjay. "What happened? Did the police find the murderer?"

"No"

"What is happening? What about the other guest who was sitting by the window when the police arrived?"

"They do not have proof. They may have to let him go"

"Let him go? He must know something. I talked to the hotel manager. They say that this guy had been staring inside the room for half hour. That's when they sent someone to check upon him and discovered that he was staring at a dead body"

"Suri didn't give me much detail. But the guy may be mentally unsound"

Maya broke into tears. "I hated Sumit for what he was doing. I wanted to divorce him, wanted him to suffer.. but I didn't wish for him to die"

"I know Maya. And it's Sumit's own fault - if he wasn't having an affair, he wouldn't be in that shitty room in that shabby hotel and would be alive."

"I don't know what will I do now"

"You were already planning on leaving him - I'm sure you'd worked out how to live without him"

"Still, I did love him. And I never told him about us. I'll always regret that"

"Maya! Please don't bring that up today. What happened between us was a mistake. We.." Sanjay broke down. He knew it was a mistake. Guilt was the last thing either of them needed today. Maya embraced him.

--------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx------------------------

Maya woke up to the sound of the bathroom flush. Soon Sanjay stepped out of the bathroom and climbed back into the bed.

“You know, I repair refrigerators for a living” a voice came from the dark. “And one day, while working, I overheard a conversation between a distressed woman Maya and her friend Sanjay”

“Sanjay! What is going on?” Maya shrieked as Sanjay turned on the lights. The man from the police station, the suspect of Sumit’s murder was sitting on a chair by the bed.

“How did you get in?” Sanjay shouted as he got up. But the man was already pointing a gun at Maya.

“Stay put” The man said. “And let me continue”. Sanjay sat down at once. “You know Maya,” the man continued, “I was repairing your refrigerator when you enquired Sanjay of Kavya. Do you remember?” Maya nodded in the negative. “Good. I’d be disappointed if you did. You see, being forgettable is something I strive for. Anyways, coming back to the point” He looked towards Sanjay. “Maya was complaining to you, and I quote”

‘What the hell is going on between my husband and that bitch?’ Maya’s patience was at its lowest ebb and she was ready to burst.

Sanjay knew that she was serious. ‘Look, Maya. There is nothing going on between the two of them. Just a little bit of healthy flirting, I’d say.’

‘Flirting? Healthy flirting? Really Sanjay . . .’ she rolled her eyes in disgust. ‘That’s what you men call it? There is nothing healthy about flirting, Sanjay, not for a married man. Healthy flirting is a term introduced by perverted men who want to lend legitimacy to their extramarital dalliances. Flirting invariably has a sexual connotation to it.’ She got up from her seat and walked around the room gesticulating and muttering something to herself. Suddenly she stopped, turned back, looked at Sanjay and asked, ‘Did my husband sleep with her? You are his friend. Did he ever tell you anything about it?’

“Do you remember your response Sanjay?”

“Yes”. Sanjay said. “I asked her to calm down at least until the repairman was at home”

“Yes. And I soon left. But Maya’s reasoning had me wondering”

“So did you kill Sumit because he was cheating on me?” maya was already in tears

“Precisely” the gunman replied. “Don’t interrupt again”

“What do you want?” Sanjay asked

“You see, murder is a stress reliever to me. Every few weeks my patience with the world runs out and I end up killing someone.”

“Police would’ve discovered” Sanjay said again. Maya was sobbing and looked lost.

The gunman aimed the pistol at Sumit and shot him in the heart instantaneously. “Do not interrupt!” He looked back at the still shocked Maya. “But now, I felt empty. I wanted to do something more meaningful. I was killing people who didn’t deserve to die – reprimanded, maybe, for infuriating me – but not death.”

Sumit’s death had still not registered to Maya. “Maya, you inspired me. You provided me a candidate. I killed Sumit and the girl Kavya. Beautiful as she was” Maya was not responding. “And then you go around and do this yourself? You deserve a special death - a  glorious murder. Maybe a suicide with confession to arranging the whole thing” Maya still didn't respond. He clicked the trigger again pointing to Maya’s head. “Nah! You killed the mood. And to think of it, I was here to confess to you and assure you that the monster is dead” He got up and walked away.

A weird encounter

This story is my entry to a story writing contest. I was given a small passage and had to spin a story around it. One of the rules was to be creative and I think that is all I do here. Language-wise, it is not one my better works, but it was so much fun to create this story on the go!

There is something about shady joints which always attracts me. I haven’t been able to determine it with certainty, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was the cheap liquor and lack of a DJ – me being a solitary drinker and characteristically taciturn. So any given day, of the 3 pubs on this street, I’d choose this one – this looks appropriately shady and quiet; which is also a little sad because this is the only one without any female customers. On the plus side though- this has a bar, which means I get to settle down on a seat without the possibility of another annoying customer joining me.

I see a broad fellow sitting on a tool resting against the bar. I leave a seat and make myself comfortable – I like my space. The bar is dim-lit but from a finger swipe I determine that it is clean. When the barkeeper approaches I order a sour whisky and request him to tune the TV to the rugby channel. As the TV is turned on there is some light, but not enough to determine the face of either the barkeep or the nearest customer – appropriate level of shady. My cocktail slid across the bar and I caught it at about the same time the All Blacks start with their Haka, reminding me that everyone has different methods of preparation for daunting tasks. I hear a chuckle from one seat afar. “Always cracks me up as well”, I said out aloud. His chuckle turned into a chortle, which only encouraged me– “You know, the All Blacks weren’t the first New Zealand team to adapt this performance of a war cry, but they have been doing it the longest”. “Oh, this ain’t the only thing they been doin’ the longest”, the barkeep said, “They got the longest winning streak in rugby history”. “Some things never change” – the other customer said. The barkeeper looked at him and with a sudden expression of shock, exclaimed “Man! You speak? Why you been orderin’ by pointing on the menu?”. “You looked like you wanted to talk” the customer said, “And I didn’t”. “Freaks!” the bartender murmured. “You know, they told me night shift’s got wackos – the crazies, the boors, the rowdies. But I didn’ listen! I had to go an’ get me a shitty job for a shittier pay” he said as he walked off into the door I presume lead to the kitchen.

A moment of quiet followed. I looked at my watch – the counter said I had 40 minutes left on me.
“Who are they playing against?” the other guy asked.
“Tricolors, I mean India.”
“Hmm. You know, I grew up there - the east coast of the peninsula.”
“Nice! My father was from there”. He wasn’t – my mother was, but I always lie at bars. It’s the 1 habit I hold dear. “Did you play while growing up?”
“No. Not rugby. Was into soccer though.”
“Nice sport. Even I played in high school and college – but didn’t make the cut. The Supers took up all spots. You know, before they were restricted to 40% of the team”
“Ah” he finally looked up from his drink. “Do you not like Supers?”
“I don’t mind Supers per se. I think they are as human as us. But I don’t like them taking my spot on rugby team, or taking the high achiever award at my workplace”. I continued lying - I actually design genome for rich folks who want to breed Super babies. And I’m quite good at it – I’ve a success rate of 42%, the highest in the state
“Hmmm”, he says, “I knew a couple who paid to have their baby’s genes engineered to be a smart – you know, nobel prize winner stuff. She grew up together with my kid. But I never found her too bright – I hear she runs a car wash now”
“Yes, I hear there are risks and no guarantee that the baby will actually turn out to be a Super”. The blacks scored a try – I don’t remember the player’s name. I look at the watch again. It was 30 minutes to the half time, which means I had 30 minutes left on me. The watch blinked green to notify a new message and then displayed “Interception successful?” I blinked once to send a confirmation message. Almost instantaneously, I received “All set. Time to go”. “Barkeeper”, I called out.

The barkeeper returned shortly and I paid for my drink. I greeted the other customer as I left – “It was nice talking to you Sir. Wish you a good night”. “Amen”, he replied without looking up from his drink. I walked away with a hump – being immersed in my character, I decided to spice it up a notch by changing my walk as well.

I reached my old apartment and let myself in by typing the access code. It was dark, but since I never change my furniture setting so it was easy to navigate. The watch blinked again, displayed “Target asleep. Extract”. I entered my old room over the sound of the buzzing drone and saw that the bed was occupied. Earlier today I had disabled the house alarms to let in the drone without noise and contaminated my water generator with a drug to induce timed coma. I have to admit, it is fun breaking into your own house. Now that I was here, the drone went out through the air-vent. I picked the body and placed in the other room – the one I never used.

I rigged my bedroom’s doorknob with the new bomb they had provided me – it induces nanobots which attack flesh and decay all organic matter. It contains enough bots to consume flesh in minutes and the bots die within 5 minutes of activation. The wonder of technology it is, it is activated via my watch with a retina scan, and the bots are repelled by the watch as well. So no bot can come within 1 metre of my watch.

Now all I had to do was wait. I sat myself in the corner of the living-room, to complete this “creature of darkness look” I was adapting.

A couple of minutes later, I heard the door opening. The broad man from the bar entered and started walking towards the bedroom. I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. "Ten, nine, eight, seven...". The bots had to be active when he touched the knob. I just needed to activate them and my work would be done.

I had planned it all, but the thought of killing him suddenly seemed like suicide. “Hi” I spoke out. He stopped. I turned on the lights as he turned around to face me.

“I would never have guessed.. not in a million years” – he finally spoke. He pulled a chair and sat next to me. I offered him a smoke – Classic Ultramilds. “Yes please, these babies are rare in my time!”. My watch was buzzing for a status update.
“So you’re not working alone I see”
“No”
“What were you told?”
“That I was about to commit suicide in the most expensive manner possible”
“Hahaha” he laughed a nervous laughter. I never failed to see humour in the most dire situations, and I am glad that does not change with time
“Did they say why?”
“Something about guilt – enabling a new world war”
“And you disagree with this action?”
“Oh no. I completely understand and support you”
“So should I consider this a casual visit then?”
“Nobody pays a casual visit by spending money equivalent to a small nations’ GDP on time travel. You know better than that”
“Yes, yes” he nodded in agreement. “We’re too much of a loner for visits anyways”
I smiled to indicate that we need to stop beating around the bush
“Well then”, he said sitting straight up and stubbed the cigarette - “Are your friends joining?”
“Possibly. If I don’t go back”
“You do realize why we have to kill ourself? The Supers we created have destroyed the world by starting an economic war”
“Well, not really” I paused for him to absorb my disagreement. I can be a tough negotiator, but I am a patient listener. “How familiar are you with parallel universes?” Now I paused for him to understand the situation and appreciate the alternative I provided. There was silence for a while and my watch was still buzzing.
“So, what happens in you universe?” he finally asked
“We’ve eliminated hunger by converting Mars into farmlands. My, pardon me, our Supers helped by engineering seeds suited to Mars’ terrain and developing cheap channel transport between the planets”
“Interesting” he stood up as he said this. “So are we fighting for our worlds now?”
“Oh I’ve always wanted to say this!!!” I looked at my watch “But I’ve just defeated myself”. The thoughts of suicide vanished from my mind on remembering the prosperity of the world I created.
The bomb exploded releasing the nanobots into air. Surely some landed on my alter ego from a different world. He stood – first surprised at my statement, then in pain from decay.

After 5 minutes, when there was no remnant of the body left and the bots’ duration had passed as well, I replaced the body of my younger self in my bedroom. This guy was precious. At this age, I was still to make decisions which forked the parallel universes from where either of the two men in the bar came.  I looked at this house for one last time and left for good.

By the way, I highly recommend this adventure of simultaneously being the perpetrator, victim and savior to all you thrill seekers out there.  

In the search of the mysterious woman - Part 1 - Weddings

Disclaimer: 
I do not attend weddings. And of the things I've been accused of (which happens to be a long list in itself), "player" is not one. Below is just a work of fiction - one of my various attempts at writing. (And probably the first sober one on this blog). The aim is to evoke laughter (besides getting all this hindi out of my system) and I'm open to comments and criticism. फिर भी कोई बुरा मानता है तो मेरी बला से !

बात उन दिनों की है जब मेरी मित्रमंडली के सभी मान्नीय सदस्य दाम्पत्य जीवन के सुनहरे सपने देख रहे थे। कभी बिहार तो कभी बंगाल के विकसित बीहड़ो में अपने करीबी, लड़क़पन के मित्रों के शहीद होने की खबर आती थी।

मेरे मित्र सदैव भोले रहे हैं। इसलिए वो अज्ञात थे कि विवाह के रूप में किस दलदल में धँसने जा रहे हैं, और अपनी इसी अज्ञानता के प्रदर्शन में मुझे भोज का न्यौता भी भेज देते थे। मैं भी इन बुलावों को अपने मित्रों की अग्रिम शहीदता दिवस का समारोह समझ कर शोक मनाने उपस्थित हो पड़ता था। जब हलाल होने वाली बकरी की तरह उनकी आव - भगत होती थी, मैं एक होनहार सिपाही को खोने के ग़म में मदिरा का पान करता पाया जाता था।

बस उन्ही दिनों की बात हैं.… ऐसे सम्मेलनों में हमेशा कन्याओं का आगमन होता है। ऐसे सम्मेलनों में आभूषण , श्रृंगार एवं महंगे लिबास से विभूषित होकर हर कन्या अप्सरा में परिवर्तित हो जाती है। और ऐसे सम्मेलनों में हमेशा मदिरा से कण्ठ ढीला करने के पश्चात् हम भी चारित्रिक रूप से परिष्कृत हो जाते हैं। चूँकि ऐसे सम्मेलनों में अक्सर मन विकसित होता है, उन अप्सराओं का हृदय भी उकसुत होता है। बस फिर ऐसे सम्मेलनों में अप्सराओ से वार्तालाप, मिलन - मिलाप एवं आलाप का दैवयोग्य प्रस्तुत होता है।

जीवन के २७ बसंत देखने पश्चात अब कन्याओं को समझने में अपने भूतकाल के अनुभवों का प्रयोग करना आरम्भ किया - उन आकड़ो का खनन किया! और अपने गुरु नरसिम्हन की सिखाई गई गणित का सदुप्योग करके कन्याओं को ३ खानों में बाँट पाया -
१. बालबुद्धि  कन्या
         ये वो कन्याएं होती है जिन्हे आप शायद चुलबुली या भोली कहेंगे।
        इतिहास गवाह है की जूही चावला, करिश्मा कपूर इत्यादि ने चलचित्र द्वारा इस जाती को अमर किया है।
२. चतुर नारी
        इन महिलाओं को हम पुरुषों के प्रकार का ही मान ले - इनकी सर्वश्रेष्ठ चतुराई ये है की ये भी हमारी तरह चिंतन करके, विलम्भ करने पश्चात् दूसरे लिंग के जीव से मित्रता करती हैं।
३. समाजसेवक महिला
        ये मेरा पसंदीदा खना हैं। इन मौतर्माओं को आपमें कुछ अवगुण दिखेंगे और कुछ सद्गुण।
        इनका प्रयास होता है आपके अवगुणो से संसारभर को अवगत कराना एवं आपको उनसे मुक्ति दिलाना।

इन ३ खानों के अलावा, गुरुदेव की गणित ने मुझे कुछ अद्भुत बिंदु दिए। इनका विश्लेषण मेरे परे है - पर क्षणभर के लिए इन्हे गूढ़ महिला ही कहते है ?

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SoundOfSilence

I wanted to try a blend of hindi and urdu. Just hope it sounds natural to you because I am, understandably, biased.

परंपरा की बन्दिशो में जब हम जकड़ जाते हैं,
आँखें देखती हैं सब, पर इंसान आवाज़ खो जाते हैं।

कलम जो पंक्ति लिखती है, उसे स्वर प्रदान नही होता।
कोई राही मार्ग बताए तो ऐतबार नही होता।

अपनी ही कृति को हम पूजा थाली चढ़ाके,
जिज्ञासा से परे उठ जाते है।
फिर तो  ऐसे आलम में मसीहा भी - दीवाने कहलाते हैं।

From one cynic to another

"You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go. It is the basic condition of life."
Philip K Dick* - You rock!

That is the most practical advice i've heard in a long time. I have grown up reading about the self righteous hero. The person with high moral values, the man who can do no wrong. My childhood idols were people like Gandhi, Mandela and Phantom. But as i grew up, i saw the dark side of Gandhi. Phantom had been replaced by Batman. Mandela was just a symbol for the repressed populace. But popular culture and opinion differed from me.

You imagined world(s) full of greedy, doubting, depressed people. You raised the fundamental question of "to do or not to do". And your hero was always the self doubting normal man. You showed me it is okay to be confused. It is okay to doubt. It is okay if the world feels unreal. Most importantly, it is okay if i do wrong. Yes, they are the basic conditions of life. But tell me, is it okay to feel you don't deserve what you have?

The world(s) of your imagination are all becoming real, here on this world itself. "The Empire" never really ended, but disintegrated geographically into equally powerful, multiple "empires". We live in a decadent society, and yes, we are powerless against it. No space colonies yet, no, but the exploitation you imagined on other worlds, is happening on other continents. And we are supposed to believe it is all for the betterment. I can't express this better than you yourself did - "Unceasingly we are bombarded with pseudorealities manufactured by very sophisticated people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not distrust their motives. I distrust their power."

The empathy you talked about, is eroding from our hearts. The androids you talked about are not being manufactured in factories, but in our minds. The morality behind pre-crime has been twisted: they are arresting the victim to avoid the crime. The dysfunctional relationships are the only thing which have translated as-is from your pages to our lives. People here are willing to have their memories erased, but nobody's offering!  And this is all happening as i write.

And just like the ending of you, i do not know how to end this article. Yes, i am leaving it with much more to say, but like you, i want the reader to interpret on his own.


*(for those unfamiliar with this name, think: Blade Runner, Minority Report, Next, Total Recall, Paycheck, The Adjustment Bureau and remove the positive endings from the last 4.)

How I survived the Corporate World(part 1)

I joined an indian MNC fresh out of college. Having grown in a part of the country where Indian IT giants are still a thing of awe and inspiration, i was full of hope, dreams and respect for corporations. 2 months into my job, and i realized how mistaken I was!

The first shock was the work culture. I had always imagined these people to be intelligent, efficient and energetic creatures. But I realized that by aggressive mass recruitment in colleges, they had not only brought down the average age of the corporation, but also average intelligence and had unwillingly created a college-like environment.

I classified people into various categories:

• The ones hanging around in food courts, sipping cold coffee and chatting. These were the new recruits who were working just for fun, not career. Similar to the back benchers in college
• The ones hanging around in food courts, sipping hot coffee and chatting. These were the 'experienced' lot who had made their career, been onsite and were now 'settled'. They are generally the managers of those new recruits. Similar to the teachers in our colleges
• The ones hanging around in cubicles and chatting. These was the less experienced lot, still waiting to go 'onsite'. These are the average students in our college classrooms
• The ones who are glued to their screens al through day. The workaholic lot, an evolution of the classroom nerd.

Where do i fit into the picture? I was among the average bunch. The difference being that i was allocated to an internal project and did not even have scope to 'go onsite'..

Change

As they say, change is the only constant. But change is also the biggest fear. We may console ourselves with adages like 'change happens for the better' etc.. But being creatures of habit, we all despise change.

The nature of change

contrary to popular belief, change is not always for the good. Ask NOKIA(btw- am not a nokia owner, never owned a nokia in my life besides a horryfying period of 4 months), they don't like the change that has happened in the handset market. More than often, Change is a sign that there are worse things yet to come.. And like Haldiram Bhujiawala, nature serves you change as a mixture, in which you can't separate the sweet bits from the hot ones. And most of it turns out to be sweet n sour: you can't even demarcate the effect it has into disjoint categories. Take the change in social media, its difficult to evaluate whether facebook is an addictive sonofabi*** or a helpful resource to stay up to date with friends, share news etc.

The setting in of change

Change follows change. And change is followed by change. Again true to human nature, as soon as we settle down in the changed settings, another change shakes the foundation of our settlement. Think iPhone. As soon as you got the coolest gadget by saving enough and pleading every firang relative, the foundation - its cool - was challenged by iPad(btw- mac was the first PC my father owned, but have hated it since it started porting on intel).

Tackling the change

So, how do we tackle change and maintain our foundations? Simple, dont build a foundation. Dont settle in the change and keep expecting more trouble to come. My friends call it pessimism, i call it my philosophy of life.

The effect of change

This entry. Something changed at 11:55 pm on 13/1/12 and i made a blog entry after 5 years. 

The conclusion

Admit that you hate change. Become pessimistic like S.D.Shibulal(Maybe he's being realistic with the estimation, but look at his picture... he looks so.. well, you get it, right?). And don't comment on this article- i wrote it in half sleep. Cut me some slack, will you?