Yesterday I turned 29. No Big Deal! Except just two days back a girl who was there for interview too asked me if it would be my first job. I smiled, said no I have worked before. She asked how many years of experience. I said about 8 yrs, she kept shaking her head and kept saying, ‘You look too young for 8 years of experience’.
I find it hard to believe that I could pass for a 20 or 21 year old, especially since I now keep my hair long and have taken to wearing salwar-kameezes to work. Nevertheless such reaction is amusing. I remember when I was 19 and in my last year at college, I so did not want to be 20. It had nothing to do with growing old it is just that I wanted to be a teenager forever. Somehow I feel I have managed to do that, no, not to look like a teenager but to feel like one.
The day after the interview I watched two Harry Potter movies and like that was not enough in the night the cable guy showed ‘The Chronicles of Narnia”. I had gotten hooked to Harry Potter series after watching ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’, it was between my last two jobs. I read all the five books back to back. I live books, period. So, all the adventures that Harry goes through I live them too. I believe these books somewhere satisfy the child who used to build structures out of cardboards and believed them to be castles. Who would sit along on the terrace wall facing the western express highway looking out at the colourful Maruti cars, dreaming of flying. Who would roam in the wilderness that surrounded Abhinav School, sometimes alone, sometimes with her friend Pinky and let her imagination run wild.
The 7th book in the Harry Potter series should have been out by now, July is almost over. Waiting impatiently.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
At the interview.
Are you married?
No!
Don't want to get married?
Nothing like that.
Waiting for someone in line?
Yes for Milind Soman, hoping he will meet me someday and realise we are made for each other. If he gets married before the above mentioned dream is realized, then I might get married to the next rich guy I come across and who is foolish enough to marry me.
I didn't say any of that, though now I feel I should have, as I didn't take up that job any ways and at Renuka's house read in Mumbai Mirror that Milind Soman has finally got married. I had not meant to go to Renuka's place, had gone to the Maharashtra State Board for Education, in Vashi, to collect the migration certificate for a cousin. I had gone there early morning, only to be told certificate will be issued between 2.30pm and 5.00pm, I should have checked the time on the back of the receipt. The stamp on the back of the receipt was blotched, the time could have been 10.30 or 12.30 or anything that fancied your imagination. I wanted to cry, it was my third visit to this excuse of an education institute, if I say I was frustrated it would be an understatement. I called amma and wanted to cry, but I didn't, told her will be home soon. On my way to the Vashi station, in the rickshaw I wanted to cry, I didn't. I wanted to cry while I was waiting for the train, but I didn't.
And at that moment I thought of Renuka, who stays close to the Board, she had called the day before and told me she is not well so will be home. I called her and asked if I could visit her, she said yes. At her home had a good time, went through this book called, 'The Little big Book of Love"
A poem from this book. Let Me Not to the Marriage of True Minds by William Shakespeare.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediment; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds.
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved.
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Are you married?
No!
Don't want to get married?
Nothing like that.
Waiting for someone in line?
Yes for Milind Soman, hoping he will meet me someday and realise we are made for each other. If he gets married before the above mentioned dream is realized, then I might get married to the next rich guy I come across and who is foolish enough to marry me.
I didn't say any of that, though now I feel I should have, as I didn't take up that job any ways and at Renuka's house read in Mumbai Mirror that Milind Soman has finally got married. I had not meant to go to Renuka's place, had gone to the Maharashtra State Board for Education, in Vashi, to collect the migration certificate for a cousin. I had gone there early morning, only to be told certificate will be issued between 2.30pm and 5.00pm, I should have checked the time on the back of the receipt. The stamp on the back of the receipt was blotched, the time could have been 10.30 or 12.30 or anything that fancied your imagination. I wanted to cry, it was my third visit to this excuse of an education institute, if I say I was frustrated it would be an understatement. I called amma and wanted to cry, but I didn't, told her will be home soon. On my way to the Vashi station, in the rickshaw I wanted to cry, I didn't. I wanted to cry while I was waiting for the train, but I didn't.
And at that moment I thought of Renuka, who stays close to the Board, she had called the day before and told me she is not well so will be home. I called her and asked if I could visit her, she said yes. At her home had a good time, went through this book called, 'The Little big Book of Love"
A poem from this book. Let Me Not to the Marriage of True Minds by William Shakespeare.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediment; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds.
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved.
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Friday, July 14, 2006
Identify the Terrorists
Cash prizes for the dead have been declared and a couple of policemen stationed on every railway station. Policemen, busy sitting in a corner and chatting, probably about how they couldn’t make their usual hafta on the 11th, due to the damn blasts. I could have carried explosives and planted them at will and they would have not noticed. And after a week or so the highly vigilant police will get back to normal too.
Next time you are in dire need of money don’t buy a lottery, just pray for a blast. If you get lucky, the family can claim the compensation and send a thank you note to the terrorists. Now wait a minute, how do you identify a terrorist? Who deserves the thank you note from you?
The politicians, who declare the prizes for the martyrs and condemn the attacks, but do nothing about preventing them, except, in cases when the attacks happen on the parliament.
Or the intelligence agencies and armed forces that will sell the secrets to any foreign buyer willing to pay a good price.
Or the police force that will let illegal consignments into any city for a few bucks.
Or a group of deranged men with an equally insane ideology seeking to annihilate the human race and backed by nations with pure and friendly intent.
I am confused, could someone identify the terrorists, please.
Next time you are in dire need of money don’t buy a lottery, just pray for a blast. If you get lucky, the family can claim the compensation and send a thank you note to the terrorists. Now wait a minute, how do you identify a terrorist? Who deserves the thank you note from you?
The politicians, who declare the prizes for the martyrs and condemn the attacks, but do nothing about preventing them, except, in cases when the attacks happen on the parliament.
Or the intelligence agencies and armed forces that will sell the secrets to any foreign buyer willing to pay a good price.
Or the police force that will let illegal consignments into any city for a few bucks.
Or a group of deranged men with an equally insane ideology seeking to annihilate the human race and backed by nations with pure and friendly intent.
I am confused, could someone identify the terrorists, please.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Yeh hai Bambai meri jaan
The Headline in today’s Times of India went something like this – city on the edge its fabled spirit flagging. What city are these people talking about? They seem to be grossly mistaken in their assessment. For one the spirit of Mumbai is not a fable, it is like a live being, so strong that its presence is felt even by the first timers to this city. Utar jaaye ragon mein jo toh yeh nasha hai. This spirit so magnanimous and engulfing it makes the filth, corruption, bad infrastructure and other vices ailing this city pale in comparison. And talking about being on the edge has this city ever been any different.
I went to Vile-Parle today which is part of the western suburbs. I stay in the eastern suburbs, so had to take a central line train to Dadar and from there change to a western line train to reach Vile-Parle. The atmosphere in the trains was no different from how it generally is. In one train 2 ladies were discussing how in movies Spiderman and Krissh save people, but if something happens to them there would be no such saviour. Another train, another 2 ladies, one was advised by a friend to take the ladies special as that train might be safe, to which the lady said she answered uparwallah hai, we got to do what we got to do. All in good humour.
While coming back in the afternoon the tiklis, earrings, and other assorted item vendors were doing their usual business in the trains. The afternoon crowd i.e. mummies and daddies with their kids in tow were out too, going about their agendas as usual. Looks like the newspaperwallahs haven’t been around Mumbai in the last two days, hence the fabled report.
I went to Vile-Parle today which is part of the western suburbs. I stay in the eastern suburbs, so had to take a central line train to Dadar and from there change to a western line train to reach Vile-Parle. The atmosphere in the trains was no different from how it generally is. In one train 2 ladies were discussing how in movies Spiderman and Krissh save people, but if something happens to them there would be no such saviour. Another train, another 2 ladies, one was advised by a friend to take the ladies special as that train might be safe, to which the lady said she answered uparwallah hai, we got to do what we got to do. All in good humour.
While coming back in the afternoon the tiklis, earrings, and other assorted item vendors were doing their usual business in the trains. The afternoon crowd i.e. mummies and daddies with their kids in tow were out too, going about their agendas as usual. Looks like the newspaperwallahs haven’t been around Mumbai in the last two days, hence the fabled report.
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