The process of deciding the title of a post is an interesting one - not so much for literary value as for the fact that it reflects the purpose and focus of the post. Since the same event can have different connotations depending on how one looks at it, this is simply a process of attaching meaning. If this sounds cryptic, you'll know what I'm talking about as you read on.
The book of my exploration has moved forward by one more chapter. To some, it might seem regressive. But to me, no experience is - not as long as one's learning from it. Newer mistakes every time. My role at TFI didn't work out, and I ended my stint there in a month. This is an event from last week. I had a candid conversation with the CEO, and we were both uncomfortable with my continuing in the EA role. Simply put, I wasn't built for it, nor was it giving me what I was looking for. I detected and corrected a flaw in my original premise - that observing Shaheen closely to learn from what she has created, would still be a second-hand view. I wasn't getting my hands into any of the things I wanted to build on - thereby not 'experiencing', only observing. The experience that my work there might have given me (apart from 'stability' - that evasive creature) would've been of a different kind - but not necessarily in the area of my strengths or taking me closer to my purpose.
No experience is in vain, so I won't dispute the merit in sticking on to it for longer despite the role or work not fitting in my scheme of things. However, a part of me kept me from committing to the work fully; that part which is craving for expression. This no longer became about a second-switch, as much as about giving myself a complete chance. So also, not committing after taking it up was my mistake, but I daresay the original mistake was taking it up in the first place without putting myself in the role and imagining what a day in my work-life would look like. Whether it would truly give me joy. I jumped at the chance for 'liberation' that I spoke about in my previous post, so much that I failed to think through this completely. Anyway, I have no regrets. Only lessons.
I could've titled this post 'Goodbye TFI' or 'Why I decided to move out', but in an instant realized that it would amount to defending the decision or giving an explanation. You might see some of the latter in this post, but the former is quite unnecessary. It's tempting to defend oneself when there are attacks from all around, albeit well-intended ones. But the point is to redirect that energy towards looking inward - what went behind the events, what I learn and take ahead from this, and where I intend going from here. Criticism sure can, and has been draining - especially for an idealist who also wants to see people around her happy. Hence the conscious attempt to move away from defense and look forward.
The reactions this time round have been a little different, obviously. The people who disapproved of my quitting HUL have expressed an even stronger disapproval of leaving TFI. Peers who admired that move towards 'finding what you want to do' are now intrigued and curious - several have asked me for regular updates on what I am upto and have shown a keen interest in seeing what shape this takes. My own questions within have somewhat changed - only the quest remains as it were.
Where to from here? The world of possibilities is open in front of me. Another name for this is Ambiguity. Uncertainty. Chaos. In a state where I want to do ten different things, all of which I either enjoy doing or am good at, the challenge is to prioritize and focus. Writing, teaching, theatre, voice-overs, workshops...it's a long list. And a promising one. I want to know what my role in the larger scheme of things is. What is my life's purpose? A philosophical question like this deserves more than just dinner discussions - and I'm willing to give it that.
The ocean has begun showing its turbulence...I'm learning to swim.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
To an end...and a new beginning
It's been a year and a half since this blog saw some activity. Now as I turn the page on my last chapter, and begin a new one, the time is right to pause and take a look back. And ahead.
Last few months have seen a whirlwind of activity within. The recurring, albeit stray thought that I ought to be doing something meaningful with my life, came back with an unanticipated vengeance; and rightfully so. I hadn't given it its due. This time round, the thought ravaged my insides until I lived through the storm, and emerged to see the clear, blue sky. What peace clarity brings with it!
A simple switch, actually. I've quit Hindustan Unilever Ltd. (HUL) to join Teach for India (TFI). From being a Sales & Marketing trainee to being the Executive Assistant to the CEO. My new job starts tomorrow.
Calling it a 'job' almost seems demeaning. It's a response to all that I've been asking myself for years now. A respite, lest I grew into a muttering old granny going around telling kids 'I've always wanted to do something in Education. Maybe someday I will.' An answer to a calling; my heart's calling. It's an open door, a mighty promising one at that. It's an escape and an escapade, a station as well as the train, an answer and the start of a million new questions, a clue as well as the treasure itself. It's a test as well as a reward for the one just cleared. Above all, it's regaining some lost respect in my own eyes.
I wish the journey to arriving at this stage could be verbalized and put here for you to read. Words won't do justice to it all. Snippets would have to do for now. Like how I'd told Shaheen, TFI's CEO, when she'd come down to campus for a guest lecture that being from IIM A is actually making me feel more cramped than liberated. Armed with that coveted qualification, I should find it easier to do as I pleased and feel absolutely secure, right? Wrong. Quite the contrary. The expectations were enormous. From family, to start with. From people around. Friends and batchmates. Somewhere, even from myself. So much so that the tried and tested path seemed 'safer' and 'more sensible' as opposed to testing uncharted waters. But if there's one thing I've realized after all these months, it's this - one might ignore the inner voice, but one can't silence it. Like Sukhi (my ERI facilitator, and now one of my spiritual mentors) says, 'Once the soul knows the truth, it will not let you rest until you've acted upon it.' How very true. Thanks, Sukhi. You've shown me what I refused to see.
One could argue that I'm making a big deal about a small event. But ofcourse, my life's a big deal to me. Just like yours would be to you. Inside my world (I invite you to step in and take a look), this move represents 'liberation'. From external influences and internal fears, from my self-imposed limitations and stunted dreams. From confusion and misery and restlessness. Oh I'm a happy creature all right. Only that some quiet, alone evenings would bring back the question - 'What am I doing with my life?' Just that, a movie like Hazaaron Khwaaishein Aisi and the dialogue by the protagonist 'I was an arrogant, educated girl who thought she could change the world. Until I saw reality.' made me cry with desperation. Was afraid I was not too different from her. What stopped me all this while? Lack of conviction and courage. I was neither here nor there. Felt these pangs once in a while, but still didn't have the commitment my dreams asked of me; the commitment to give this a serious thought and take the plunge with utmost faith. A few weeks of working in a corporate, and this instinct surged to the fore. Life has never been the same again.
Oh I have much to thank HUL for. It's a wonderful, wonderful organisation. The people are sharp, smart, and good to work with. I had a blast with my fellow trainees. The organization nurtures its people. It gave me choices to reconsider and stay on. But I could not connect to the work, to the organization's objectives. During a guest lecture in Enterprise and Innovation in Education (EIE) at IIM A, the Principal of Sahyadri Valley School had told me during one of our in-between class discussions- 'If the employee's personal objectives don't make him work towards the organization's objectives, there's bound to be conflict. It's only when the objectives of both are aligned that a person can perform his best, and for longer.' I saw this in practice with HUL and me. So much for gyaan that comes back to you at a later date, becoming 'wisdom' from a mere 'funda'!
What saddens me a little though, is the look in the eyes of many who congratulated me. Ofcourse, it feels good to be told that one is inspiring and bold, but reading in between the lines (and into the eyes) told me that there were many around who were itching to either find their passion, or having known what it was - give it its due. It's pointless to philosophize beyond this point in this particular post, so we'll reserve that for another day. All I can say is that the response from my colleagues and some very senior managers in HUL, my professors and gurus alike has been heartening, heartwarming, and humbling.
Many have stated 'So you're finally doing what you wanted to do', in a manner that suggests a conclusion of sorts. An end of a search. Not really. There's much to unearth and explore, and I haven't even begun scratching the surface. This is the first chapter in my book titled 'The search for meaning and purpose.'
Wish me luck - I've taken out my boat and the oars, and am ready to face the sea.
Last few months have seen a whirlwind of activity within. The recurring, albeit stray thought that I ought to be doing something meaningful with my life, came back with an unanticipated vengeance; and rightfully so. I hadn't given it its due. This time round, the thought ravaged my insides until I lived through the storm, and emerged to see the clear, blue sky. What peace clarity brings with it!
A simple switch, actually. I've quit Hindustan Unilever Ltd. (HUL) to join Teach for India (TFI). From being a Sales & Marketing trainee to being the Executive Assistant to the CEO. My new job starts tomorrow.
Calling it a 'job' almost seems demeaning. It's a response to all that I've been asking myself for years now. A respite, lest I grew into a muttering old granny going around telling kids 'I've always wanted to do something in Education. Maybe someday I will.' An answer to a calling; my heart's calling. It's an open door, a mighty promising one at that. It's an escape and an escapade, a station as well as the train, an answer and the start of a million new questions, a clue as well as the treasure itself. It's a test as well as a reward for the one just cleared. Above all, it's regaining some lost respect in my own eyes.
I wish the journey to arriving at this stage could be verbalized and put here for you to read. Words won't do justice to it all. Snippets would have to do for now. Like how I'd told Shaheen, TFI's CEO, when she'd come down to campus for a guest lecture that being from IIM A is actually making me feel more cramped than liberated. Armed with that coveted qualification, I should find it easier to do as I pleased and feel absolutely secure, right? Wrong. Quite the contrary. The expectations were enormous. From family, to start with. From people around. Friends and batchmates. Somewhere, even from myself. So much so that the tried and tested path seemed 'safer' and 'more sensible' as opposed to testing uncharted waters. But if there's one thing I've realized after all these months, it's this - one might ignore the inner voice, but one can't silence it. Like Sukhi (my ERI facilitator, and now one of my spiritual mentors) says, 'Once the soul knows the truth, it will not let you rest until you've acted upon it.' How very true. Thanks, Sukhi. You've shown me what I refused to see.
One could argue that I'm making a big deal about a small event. But ofcourse, my life's a big deal to me. Just like yours would be to you. Inside my world (I invite you to step in and take a look), this move represents 'liberation'. From external influences and internal fears, from my self-imposed limitations and stunted dreams. From confusion and misery and restlessness. Oh I'm a happy creature all right. Only that some quiet, alone evenings would bring back the question - 'What am I doing with my life?' Just that, a movie like Hazaaron Khwaaishein Aisi and the dialogue by the protagonist 'I was an arrogant, educated girl who thought she could change the world. Until I saw reality.' made me cry with desperation. Was afraid I was not too different from her. What stopped me all this while? Lack of conviction and courage. I was neither here nor there. Felt these pangs once in a while, but still didn't have the commitment my dreams asked of me; the commitment to give this a serious thought and take the plunge with utmost faith. A few weeks of working in a corporate, and this instinct surged to the fore. Life has never been the same again.
Oh I have much to thank HUL for. It's a wonderful, wonderful organisation. The people are sharp, smart, and good to work with. I had a blast with my fellow trainees. The organization nurtures its people. It gave me choices to reconsider and stay on. But I could not connect to the work, to the organization's objectives. During a guest lecture in Enterprise and Innovation in Education (EIE) at IIM A, the Principal of Sahyadri Valley School had told me during one of our in-between class discussions- 'If the employee's personal objectives don't make him work towards the organization's objectives, there's bound to be conflict. It's only when the objectives of both are aligned that a person can perform his best, and for longer.' I saw this in practice with HUL and me. So much for gyaan that comes back to you at a later date, becoming 'wisdom' from a mere 'funda'!
What saddens me a little though, is the look in the eyes of many who congratulated me. Ofcourse, it feels good to be told that one is inspiring and bold, but reading in between the lines (and into the eyes) told me that there were many around who were itching to either find their passion, or having known what it was - give it its due. It's pointless to philosophize beyond this point in this particular post, so we'll reserve that for another day. All I can say is that the response from my colleagues and some very senior managers in HUL, my professors and gurus alike has been heartening, heartwarming, and humbling.
Many have stated 'So you're finally doing what you wanted to do', in a manner that suggests a conclusion of sorts. An end of a search. Not really. There's much to unearth and explore, and I haven't even begun scratching the surface. This is the first chapter in my book titled 'The search for meaning and purpose.'
Wish me luck - I've taken out my boat and the oars, and am ready to face the sea.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
An explosion of a different kind
All is quiet and peaceful. Until suddenly, you're on a roll. Someone's just doused you with a tank full of crispy cool water in the middle of summer and sent you rolling down a water slide - you land with a splash into a pool. And start gasping with excitement. Possibly bobbing up n down in there as well.
That's how an idea hits me. And no, it's usually not just one. They come like an army - Determined. Energized. Blinding. They march straight into my head; going all over the place like a swarm of bees. Almost like an explosion. Leaving me gasping.
I don't know what is it with ideas and me?! (Didn't I warn you this blog would have a lot of 'me'?! :P) They seem to love me, and come very unexpectedly. In the middle of the night. When I'm slapping a roti onto the tava. When I'm on a phone call. In the IGP lecture. On the roads. In the train. While gazing at the stars. While sitting at LKP. On the terrace. In the rains. Sipping on a cuppa coffee. Listening to music. Day dreaming. While trying to write a report. While listening to my boss's briefing. While working at office. Like today.
An idea can hit me anytime. It's both a cause and an effect. I shall proceed to explain *Ahem!*
One can judge an event or an experience on many parameters. Exciting/dull, fun/boring, learnt something/useless, memorable/watevah, blah blah blah...to me, it's simple. One point measure. Stimulation. How much the event/experience, or even person for that matter - stimulated my mind. Evoked thoughts. Not so much what happened outside, but what it changed within. I know the signs by now. Slowly rising pulse. Eventually racing. Eyes darting here n there. Decibel levels increasing when I talk. Slight vibration in my hands. A weird sort of energy. And a mind abuzz with ideas. Loads of them. All kinds. Sometimes, the energy gets too much for me to handle. In fact, most of the times. Unless I give it an outlet. If I don't write/scream/laugh/talk/dance away the energy, it can get very bad. I could be found jumping up n down on the couch. Or throwing my hands in all directions in gestures that seem meaningless. Or could even look like my face is about to burst - it shines n glows, my cheeks turn red with excitement. Sometimes, it becomes a frenzy. And if I don't release the energy, it results into physical pain. ("Huh?! What?! Aw come on....you gotta be kidding!" *sigh* I knew you wouldn't believe this one. Never mind. You can call me a weirdo if that gives you a reason to believe) Which is when I do something like what I'm doing write now. Even as I occasionally clutch my right shoulder to try n stop it from paining. *ouch*
It can get distracting if it happens in the middle of a lecture. Which it has. Many a time. Being in the institute that I am in, I'm not surprised. IIM A has quite a few brilliant profs. People who perhaps don't need to teach, but do it only coz they love teaching. They're madly passionate about their subject, and are capable of evoking that passion in anyone who steps in with an open mind. I have, many a time. And have stepped out clutching my shoulder, or hand, or head. Sometimes, it's been too much too take. I mean, firstly the prof's too good. Secondly, that morning's good and I'm in class with an open mind. Thirdly, the lecture unravels itself so beautifully. The process kicks in. I have often been left perplexed and helpless, as my mind wildly races from the hills of Switzerland and what kind of a house I'd like there to what the Education minister should be doing with schools right now. *Buzzzz* Until the prof.'s voice fades away, and I can hear only my own. Lots of them, going off at the same time. Very soon, I'm in my own world. Oh all's well until I get cold called and jolted back into reality. With the guilt that I took off on a trip in the middle of an amazing lecture. But what could I have done - the very lecture was the cause - don't you see?!!
I first started jotting down thots on the last pages of my full scape books. Until they started eating from backwards into the actual notes. I now carry an 'Idea diary' or more aptly titled 'Random Thoughts'. I remember reading sometime - Alyque Padamsee once said somewhere - "The secret of my creativity is this -" And he held up a pen and a diary. "I carry this with me all the time." Trust me, he's right. I can safely get back to my lecture now, once I've got one rush of ideas outta my way, until the next batch strikes...
So that's what happened today, Imli. I started talking to Bhupi (a co-intern from IIM B) about my current confusions, my passion, my dreams...ahhh! my dreams. They send me on a frenzy too. All it took today was me starting to talk about making a difference, doing something about education, how would I do it and when, what would happen to my livelihood, material comfort, the other random things I've always wanted to do...like theatre...RJing...exploring the interiors of India..venturing out on my own...and there I was on another one of my trips. Only that this time round, operational issues kicked in and I started thinking about my 'dreams' more seriously. For longer. Which pushed up the energy even more. *Sigh*
And now here I am, in the middle of the night trying to regain my lost composure. Any ideas, anyone?!
Did I just say 'ideas'?! Aaaaaarrrrgghhhhh!
P.S - I'm all set to be blown away anyday ;)
That's how an idea hits me. And no, it's usually not just one. They come like an army - Determined. Energized. Blinding. They march straight into my head; going all over the place like a swarm of bees. Almost like an explosion. Leaving me gasping.
I don't know what is it with ideas and me?! (Didn't I warn you this blog would have a lot of 'me'?! :P) They seem to love me, and come very unexpectedly. In the middle of the night. When I'm slapping a roti onto the tava. When I'm on a phone call. In the IGP lecture. On the roads. In the train. While gazing at the stars. While sitting at LKP. On the terrace. In the rains. Sipping on a cuppa coffee. Listening to music. Day dreaming. While trying to write a report. While listening to my boss's briefing. While working at office. Like today.
An idea can hit me anytime. It's both a cause and an effect. I shall proceed to explain *Ahem!*
One can judge an event or an experience on many parameters. Exciting/dull, fun/boring, learnt something/useless, memorable/watevah, blah blah blah...to me, it's simple. One point measure. Stimulation. How much the event/experience, or even person for that matter - stimulated my mind. Evoked thoughts. Not so much what happened outside, but what it changed within. I know the signs by now. Slowly rising pulse. Eventually racing. Eyes darting here n there. Decibel levels increasing when I talk. Slight vibration in my hands. A weird sort of energy. And a mind abuzz with ideas. Loads of them. All kinds. Sometimes, the energy gets too much for me to handle. In fact, most of the times. Unless I give it an outlet. If I don't write/scream/laugh/talk/dance away the energy, it can get very bad. I could be found jumping up n down on the couch. Or throwing my hands in all directions in gestures that seem meaningless. Or could even look like my face is about to burst - it shines n glows, my cheeks turn red with excitement. Sometimes, it becomes a frenzy. And if I don't release the energy, it results into physical pain. ("Huh?! What?! Aw come on....you gotta be kidding!" *sigh* I knew you wouldn't believe this one. Never mind. You can call me a weirdo if that gives you a reason to believe) Which is when I do something like what I'm doing write now. Even as I occasionally clutch my right shoulder to try n stop it from paining. *ouch*
It can get distracting if it happens in the middle of a lecture. Which it has. Many a time. Being in the institute that I am in, I'm not surprised. IIM A has quite a few brilliant profs. People who perhaps don't need to teach, but do it only coz they love teaching. They're madly passionate about their subject, and are capable of evoking that passion in anyone who steps in with an open mind. I have, many a time. And have stepped out clutching my shoulder, or hand, or head. Sometimes, it's been too much too take. I mean, firstly the prof's too good. Secondly, that morning's good and I'm in class with an open mind. Thirdly, the lecture unravels itself so beautifully. The process kicks in. I have often been left perplexed and helpless, as my mind wildly races from the hills of Switzerland and what kind of a house I'd like there to what the Education minister should be doing with schools right now. *Buzzzz* Until the prof.'s voice fades away, and I can hear only my own. Lots of them, going off at the same time. Very soon, I'm in my own world. Oh all's well until I get cold called and jolted back into reality. With the guilt that I took off on a trip in the middle of an amazing lecture. But what could I have done - the very lecture was the cause - don't you see?!!
I first started jotting down thots on the last pages of my full scape books. Until they started eating from backwards into the actual notes. I now carry an 'Idea diary' or more aptly titled 'Random Thoughts'. I remember reading sometime - Alyque Padamsee once said somewhere - "The secret of my creativity is this -" And he held up a pen and a diary. "I carry this with me all the time." Trust me, he's right. I can safely get back to my lecture now, once I've got one rush of ideas outta my way, until the next batch strikes...
So that's what happened today, Imli. I started talking to Bhupi (a co-intern from IIM B) about my current confusions, my passion, my dreams...ahhh! my dreams. They send me on a frenzy too. All it took today was me starting to talk about making a difference, doing something about education, how would I do it and when, what would happen to my livelihood, material comfort, the other random things I've always wanted to do...like theatre...RJing...exploring the interiors of India..venturing out on my own...and there I was on another one of my trips. Only that this time round, operational issues kicked in and I started thinking about my 'dreams' more seriously. For longer. Which pushed up the energy even more. *Sigh*
And now here I am, in the middle of the night trying to regain my lost composure. Any ideas, anyone?!
Did I just say 'ideas'?! Aaaaaarrrrgghhhhh!
P.S - I'm all set to be blown away anyday ;)
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
In pursuit of The One
It wasn't his day. Night, rather. Or day actually, since the day here begins at 12 am, literally.
He'd been identified long back as 'The ONE'. The one who'd be stared at even as he'd drip wisdom with his every word. The one who'd never be taken seriously, for geniuses never are. The one who'd be laughed at simply coz he was above the lesser mortals...The one who's innocence would be his undoing as he'd be hunted down by a pack of nasty kids-on-the-block...his fellow 'preppies' it seems. The One.
It all began with a harmless b'day celebration. Jeetish Bansod. The guy whose secret desire was to sing 'Yeh mera Dil...' for Helen. We made sure it got fulfilled. (Didn't someone tell you we're angels?) The b'day boy did have quite the time of his life. We ensured that the Ponds face wash tube he'd secretly purchased at Himalaya Mall would get completely used up. In fact, we ensured that the face wash tubes of all alike would be empty the next day. The taps were barely spared. But the buckets were put to good use.
(Adv: Whoever said cake was only for eating?! Come to us. Play Holi of a different kind. In sweltering June. Fee: One kg Blackforest cake and a bucketful of cold water. Guaranteed returns.)
Of course, there was one who was quick enough to flee before his face was decorated. One who thought he'd be spared. The One.
It didn't take long for the rest to figure out. You can't miss the one who everyone wants to get back at. (Don't ask for what. That is bound to remain a mystery for life. Too bad for him)
Within moments of the realisation dawning, people collectively resolved, wiped off the cream that clung lazily to their noses n chins and crept up D13 - his abode. He wasn't there. Smart fellow. Knew people would come seeking him. Full plans of absconding. If only the others wouldn't be smarter...
Something had to be done. Reliable sources revealed that he was to visit the chimp's room in some time to watch a movie. People stealthily moved to the new campus. Ok, laughing n sneering n hooting is not exactly 'stealthily'. Yet.
But what if he'd know? There was no way of verifying.
And then, the inevitable happened. The One walked into the trap himself. One of the comrades had his precious possession which he had to retrieve - his hard disk drive. She put on her most innocent tone, convinced him that she didn't know what was on, and was in fact taking a walk at the LKP. Quite believable. Especially the last part. At any time of the day. Or night.
They decided to meet near the underpass so that she'd pass on what was anyway his. And probably join them for the Telugu movie. Quite unbelievable. At any time of the day. Or night. He should've known.
And then he committed a second error. Called a second comrade to invite her for the movie. She very wittingly said that she was with the first comrade anyway and would see him at the underpass. The trap was laid. No bait was needed. He was walking into it himself. Literally.
The underpass, at an unearthly hour, saw excited movement. About 8-10 odd people, armed with remnants of the cake, now waited behind the bushes, poised for an attack fit for a battle. It was war time.
He walked. With one ear glued to the cell phone. Eyes glued to the approaching comrades. Would've been too risky to let him walk by himself. They virtually escorted him. Lucky chap.
He'd just taken a shower. Scrubbed himself squeaky clean. Even better.
Then it all happened. In a blinding flash of activity. Junta screamed n pounced. He screamed n ducked. Too late. In a matter of moments it was all over. What was left was his inimitable expression, and the greasy, sugary cream that clung to every inch of his face. Silence erupting into triumphant laughter. Slaps on the back. Pics. Gleaming, mocking faces.
The ambush was succesful. All would sleep in peace. All, but one. The One.
It's not just cricket where they take his case. Maybe it just wasn't his day.
Actually, it never is.
He'd been identified long back as 'The ONE'. The one who'd be stared at even as he'd drip wisdom with his every word. The one who'd never be taken seriously, for geniuses never are. The one who'd be laughed at simply coz he was above the lesser mortals...The one who's innocence would be his undoing as he'd be hunted down by a pack of nasty kids-on-the-block...his fellow 'preppies' it seems. The One.
It all began with a harmless b'day celebration. Jeetish Bansod. The guy whose secret desire was to sing 'Yeh mera Dil...' for Helen. We made sure it got fulfilled. (Didn't someone tell you we're angels?) The b'day boy did have quite the time of his life. We ensured that the Ponds face wash tube he'd secretly purchased at Himalaya Mall would get completely used up. In fact, we ensured that the face wash tubes of all alike would be empty the next day. The taps were barely spared. But the buckets were put to good use.
(Adv: Whoever said cake was only for eating?! Come to us. Play Holi of a different kind. In sweltering June. Fee: One kg Blackforest cake and a bucketful of cold water. Guaranteed returns.)
Of course, there was one who was quick enough to flee before his face was decorated. One who thought he'd be spared. The One.
It didn't take long for the rest to figure out. You can't miss the one who everyone wants to get back at. (Don't ask for what. That is bound to remain a mystery for life. Too bad for him)
Within moments of the realisation dawning, people collectively resolved, wiped off the cream that clung lazily to their noses n chins and crept up D13 - his abode. He wasn't there. Smart fellow. Knew people would come seeking him. Full plans of absconding. If only the others wouldn't be smarter...
Something had to be done. Reliable sources revealed that he was to visit the chimp's room in some time to watch a movie. People stealthily moved to the new campus. Ok, laughing n sneering n hooting is not exactly 'stealthily'. Yet.
But what if he'd know? There was no way of verifying.
And then, the inevitable happened. The One walked into the trap himself. One of the comrades had his precious possession which he had to retrieve - his hard disk drive. She put on her most innocent tone, convinced him that she didn't know what was on, and was in fact taking a walk at the LKP. Quite believable. Especially the last part. At any time of the day. Or night.
They decided to meet near the underpass so that she'd pass on what was anyway his. And probably join them for the Telugu movie. Quite unbelievable. At any time of the day. Or night. He should've known.
And then he committed a second error. Called a second comrade to invite her for the movie. She very wittingly said that she was with the first comrade anyway and would see him at the underpass. The trap was laid. No bait was needed. He was walking into it himself. Literally.
The underpass, at an unearthly hour, saw excited movement. About 8-10 odd people, armed with remnants of the cake, now waited behind the bushes, poised for an attack fit for a battle. It was war time.
He walked. With one ear glued to the cell phone. Eyes glued to the approaching comrades. Would've been too risky to let him walk by himself. They virtually escorted him. Lucky chap.
He'd just taken a shower. Scrubbed himself squeaky clean. Even better.
Then it all happened. In a blinding flash of activity. Junta screamed n pounced. He screamed n ducked. Too late. In a matter of moments it was all over. What was left was his inimitable expression, and the greasy, sugary cream that clung to every inch of his face. Silence erupting into triumphant laughter. Slaps on the back. Pics. Gleaming, mocking faces.
The ambush was succesful. All would sleep in peace. All, but one. The One.
It's not just cricket where they take his case. Maybe it just wasn't his day.
Actually, it never is.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
What is this all about?
I write, therefore I am.
Grrr...wish I could crumple that into a nondescript paper ball n throw it into the bin!
Tempted to try and think of the 'perfect' beginning to this blog...but like a zillion other times - I would've ended up waiting for eternity...coz there ain't no such thing as a 'perfect' beginning...or is it?
The truth is that I have begun. (Woah!) And that it has taken a lot for me to get here...no no, not those hours of searching for the 'perfect' name (there I go again!)...this is about all that went on inside my head before I got myself to blog.
'What's the big deal?!'
Sighhh...the scene is that with me (as you will gradually realise) even seemingly tiny things are big deals...well, call that magnified living if you please...anything but 'blowing it outta proportion'! I'm not, ok!
The truth is I don't know what is this all about...or do I?
I've always loved writing - to myself and others. But then, that was selective writing. For a selective audience. Not a public space where I'd put up a part of myself for others to see and comment on.
Ahhhh...there...now we're talking! Allow me to explain.
Too many questions - What will I write about? Who would read it? Would any one even want to read all of THAT? Am I writing only for someone to read it? Will what I write (and how) be driven by comments from friends and strangers? Have I learnt to deal with unsolicited judgements? Am I mature enough to detach myself from what happens once I press the 'Publish Post' Key? Or is it ok to be attached in the first place? What will this lead to? Does it even matter? Will I be consistent? Will I even begin?!!
Questions. Like the grass that spreads to make the garden its home - questions have flourished ever since I've let them into my life. My mind virtually swims in those of all kinds...naah, aint complaining...love them...well, most of them :)
Haan..so like I was saying - a lot has gone into the creation of this space (more on 'space' some other time) The question (again?!) now is - what is this all about?!
It's about me thinking out aloud. It's about me yearning to express. It's about a glimpse into my life. Into my mind. It's about a glimpse into your own. It's about things you may never have thought of. It's about those which you always had on your mind. It's about listening to a new voice. It's about realising that the voice is actually within you. It's about indulging in the abstract. About engaging in pseduo-philosophy. It's about drawing out meaning from meaninglessness. It's about wanting to reach out. About wanting to scream out n say to the world 'Hell, life can be way better than this!' It's about offerring a sneak peak into a dream life. It's about showing that there are other ways. About realising that there is no need to show anyone anything. It's about me blabbering on and on. It's about you reading all of THAT.
It's about you. It's about me. More about me I guess (How does it matter?! Errr...mebbe it does)
So...looks like we are headed somewhere aren't we... ;)
Cheers to a new beginning!
P.S - I'm excited! :D
Grrr...wish I could crumple that into a nondescript paper ball n throw it into the bin!
Tempted to try and think of the 'perfect' beginning to this blog...but like a zillion other times - I would've ended up waiting for eternity...coz there ain't no such thing as a 'perfect' beginning...or is it?
The truth is that I have begun. (Woah!) And that it has taken a lot for me to get here...no no, not those hours of searching for the 'perfect' name (there I go again!)...this is about all that went on inside my head before I got myself to blog.
'What's the big deal?!'
Sighhh...the scene is that with me (as you will gradually realise) even seemingly tiny things are big deals...well, call that magnified living if you please...anything but 'blowing it outta proportion'! I'm not, ok!
The truth is I don't know what is this all about...or do I?
I've always loved writing - to myself and others. But then, that was selective writing. For a selective audience. Not a public space where I'd put up a part of myself for others to see and comment on.
Ahhhh...there...now we're talking! Allow me to explain.
Too many questions - What will I write about? Who would read it? Would any one even want to read all of THAT? Am I writing only for someone to read it? Will what I write (and how) be driven by comments from friends and strangers? Have I learnt to deal with unsolicited judgements? Am I mature enough to detach myself from what happens once I press the 'Publish Post' Key? Or is it ok to be attached in the first place? What will this lead to? Does it even matter? Will I be consistent? Will I even begin?!!
Questions. Like the grass that spreads to make the garden its home - questions have flourished ever since I've let them into my life. My mind virtually swims in those of all kinds...naah, aint complaining...love them...well, most of them :)
Haan..so like I was saying - a lot has gone into the creation of this space (more on 'space' some other time) The question (again?!) now is - what is this all about?!
It's about me thinking out aloud. It's about me yearning to express. It's about a glimpse into my life. Into my mind. It's about a glimpse into your own. It's about things you may never have thought of. It's about those which you always had on your mind. It's about listening to a new voice. It's about realising that the voice is actually within you. It's about indulging in the abstract. About engaging in pseduo-philosophy. It's about drawing out meaning from meaninglessness. It's about wanting to reach out. About wanting to scream out n say to the world 'Hell, life can be way better than this!' It's about offerring a sneak peak into a dream life. It's about showing that there are other ways. About realising that there is no need to show anyone anything. It's about me blabbering on and on. It's about you reading all of THAT.
It's about you. It's about me. More about me I guess (How does it matter?! Errr...mebbe it does)
So...looks like we are headed somewhere aren't we... ;)
Cheers to a new beginning!
P.S - I'm excited! :D
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This work by Akanksha Thakore Srikrishnan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License