I'm somehow pissed today. I dunno why or may be I know! Just cant bitch about it on the blog. Why do we always have to maintain this"Its Ok" face when nothin is ok...nothin is really working and u still have to say"Ya I'm fine"...
Bunk it...As if I care... But I dunno may be I do , thats why I'm like this...
Its raining outside. I can feel it. I can't see it though.Thanks to the shaded glass windows in my office.... They are sepia toned... Well sepia is my favorite...but right now I hate everything.. everything around me...
My notepad looks terribly silly with different irrelevant faces sketeched all over.....Thanks to my extraordinary artistic skills...
The phone beeps: "Vodafone brings special bonus cards for you!" It seems they will offer bonus cards with extra talktime on my funeral as well...
At the other corner... typically "working hard, dedicated and dont disturb me" kinda looks... God save them from this mundane life...I've seen them bitch and smile too...but thats once in a blue moon...the conversation is so god damn technical...the only thing you can manage to do is smile while you think"God what was that"! Nerds!
I've discreetly opened this document and I'm just keyboarding...I'm desperate right at this moment...I want to talk to someone...No one's available...
Hey but theres something that makes me smile...I have a coffee date in the evening..Barista Blast and brownie with icecream... Thats why someone said something about clouds and silver lining... Well silver lining and brownie!!@# No then make it brown with lotsa chocolate sauce...
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Corporate
They come in the best of their formal wear in tune with the latest fashion... Their ears jammed with headfones switching from chartbusters to client calls... They get into the swanky elevators with other tagged professionals... They reach their respective floors, swipe their yellow red blue I cards...
They enter into their snazzy workstations, switch on their machines... Their cubicles decorated with memorabilia that reflects a part of their personal identity, thats the only space to "show off" your personal taste...
Women head for the washrooms.... The touch ups continue... Finally they add the last coat of lipstick and exchange pleasant glances... and another day starts
It starts with exploring the over flooded mailbox... Forwards, junks, irrelevant information, missed conversations, deadlines, failure to meet deadlines, unimportant events and so on...
Then its work, intercepted with regular bitching sessions... These bitching sessions are almost endless... It completes a full circle always--A to B to C and back to A and the saga continues.... What goes around comes around...
Well if you are curious about the subject of conversations well it can range from your appearance, lifestyle, your wardrobe, your personal life to your so called corporate character... Criticism is a stress buster for the modern day corporates... In case you don't criticise, you are way behind the bandwagon... So play on fellows... join the group...
Apart from bitching another game is "mud slinging"... In the middle of a conversation, just spot your prey and make him/her the laughing stock to boost your ego... If your prey is insignificantly submissive, it surely adds to the pleasure quotient... sadistic pleasure? no not at all.....its all about taking a break!
And while doing all this, never forget to blow the trumpets... Shout scream speak... the louder the noise, more easily you will be heard...
Well after the usual sessions of bitching, smirking and over indulgently oiling..Its again back to work and slogging hard... At the fag end of the day as they leave their workstations in their crisp formal wear, they are tired, back to their own lives, exploring the left overs of their personal space...
Exhausted, drained out, unbuttoned shirts, a quick splash under the shower, kohl smudged eyes--- they are all heroes...Bruised and battered heroes borne out of everyday mundane struggle, humiliation, pain, success and failure...Some win, some lose and some give up... but the urge to get to the top continues... the urge to dethrone is carefully nurtured by all of them every single day...
In the end the tired soul, stressed out with the tough battles of life, comes back to its cocoon...
And again yet another day begins amidst airconditioned cubicles, amidst deadlines, amidst the rat race....the heroes fight it out again...
They enter into their snazzy workstations, switch on their machines... Their cubicles decorated with memorabilia that reflects a part of their personal identity, thats the only space to "show off" your personal taste...
Women head for the washrooms.... The touch ups continue... Finally they add the last coat of lipstick and exchange pleasant glances... and another day starts
It starts with exploring the over flooded mailbox... Forwards, junks, irrelevant information, missed conversations, deadlines, failure to meet deadlines, unimportant events and so on...
Then its work, intercepted with regular bitching sessions... These bitching sessions are almost endless... It completes a full circle always--A to B to C and back to A and the saga continues.... What goes around comes around...
Well if you are curious about the subject of conversations well it can range from your appearance, lifestyle, your wardrobe, your personal life to your so called corporate character... Criticism is a stress buster for the modern day corporates... In case you don't criticise, you are way behind the bandwagon... So play on fellows... join the group...
Apart from bitching another game is "mud slinging"... In the middle of a conversation, just spot your prey and make him/her the laughing stock to boost your ego... If your prey is insignificantly submissive, it surely adds to the pleasure quotient... sadistic pleasure? no not at all.....its all about taking a break!
And while doing all this, never forget to blow the trumpets... Shout scream speak... the louder the noise, more easily you will be heard...
Well after the usual sessions of bitching, smirking and over indulgently oiling..Its again back to work and slogging hard... At the fag end of the day as they leave their workstations in their crisp formal wear, they are tired, back to their own lives, exploring the left overs of their personal space...
Exhausted, drained out, unbuttoned shirts, a quick splash under the shower, kohl smudged eyes--- they are all heroes...Bruised and battered heroes borne out of everyday mundane struggle, humiliation, pain, success and failure...Some win, some lose and some give up... but the urge to get to the top continues... the urge to dethrone is carefully nurtured by all of them every single day...
In the end the tired soul, stressed out with the tough battles of life, comes back to its cocoon...
And again yet another day begins amidst airconditioned cubicles, amidst deadlines, amidst the rat race....the heroes fight it out again...
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Crash...
The blurred glass windowpanes wore a shade of grey. The empty coffee mug stained with the brown elixir stood on the bedside table. Pages from an unread book, her newly bought tees, her blue comb were scattered on the bed... Her dressing table was cluttered as usual... junk neckpiece, tribal earrings, safetypins, make up kits, broken edges of kohl and over used bindis sticking on the mirrror...
On the other end of the room, the books were stacked ... Her jeans was hanging from one end of the chair as it legs almost kissed the marble floor... The Denvers, Floyds and Jovis were all piled up... She loved this disorganised flavor about her room...
Her cellphone was lying on the bed as well... No one ever saw the phone as it was always sticking to her ears... Her huge leather bag was almost like a portable curio shop... from age old movie tickets to long forgotten bills all were stuffed inside... She carried a wallet always which had a photograph, a letter from Riju and her driving license...
Riju's flight had almost reached.... They would be meeting after a long time... She was speeding through Bypass... And it was then she saw the yellow cab at a distance...
The asphalt road was smeared with blood, a few confused shrieks over and there, shattered pieces of glass, a curious crowd, the monotonous whistle of an ambulance, her huge leather bag on one end, the overbearing smell of disinfectant in the morgue....
"Rash Driving kills woman"-- the headlines on one insignificant corner of the Monday newspaper had a few lines about the accident.
On the other end of the room, the books were stacked ... Her jeans was hanging from one end of the chair as it legs almost kissed the marble floor... The Denvers, Floyds and Jovis were all piled up... She loved this disorganised flavor about her room...
Her cellphone was lying on the bed as well... No one ever saw the phone as it was always sticking to her ears... Her huge leather bag was almost like a portable curio shop... from age old movie tickets to long forgotten bills all were stuffed inside... She carried a wallet always which had a photograph, a letter from Riju and her driving license...
Riju's flight had almost reached.... They would be meeting after a long time... She was speeding through Bypass... And it was then she saw the yellow cab at a distance...
The asphalt road was smeared with blood, a few confused shrieks over and there, shattered pieces of glass, a curious crowd, the monotonous whistle of an ambulance, her huge leather bag on one end, the overbearing smell of disinfectant in the morgue....
"Rash Driving kills woman"-- the headlines on one insignificant corner of the Monday newspaper had a few lines about the accident.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
15th Aug' 2009
Woke up early morning... switched on the television.... our independent spirit was in full swing by then... the Prime Minister's speech, music channels blaring out patriotic chartbusters, the Indian flag all over my television...sms-es poured in wishing "happy independence day" ....
Loooked out of my balcony... the para club had got some dusty faded string of paper flags .... they were busy decorating the club premises with the national flag (keeping the ma mati oops trinamool colors aside)...
Switched on the radio...The RJs aimlessly blabbered on..."whats the meaning of independence for you".... listeners, over enthusiastic callers sang in patriotic songs, criticized corruption, praised our freedom fighters and finally hanged up after being assured of food vouchers and discount coupons...
Flipped the pages of the newspaper... Mother dairy had released its tri color ice cream named "Swad Desh"---Glanced at the page 3 sections... celebs sporting the whitest of the white had celebrated pre Independence party at some infamous pub...
Went to the nearest multiplex to buy tickets of Kaminay for the Sunday show... The mall was over crowded at 11 in the morning.... From sniffer dogs to sniffer bitches!.... School kids, teenagers, love birds, socialites, hot babes, ma mashi dada boudi .... sporting the best of their kurtas, sarees, salwar kameez and to top it all the miniature national flag sticking on to them as the icing on the cake...
All the shops offered 50% discount to celebrate independence day... from United colors of Benetton, Tommy Hilfiger, Levis or Victoria's Secret.... all were a part of the Indian independence... and the music which played at the backdrop was none other than Lata Mangeshkar's "Vande Mataram".... tri color baloons, tri color sarees, tri color kurtas... independence smeared all over....
While coming back... got stuck in a terrible jam... the ruling party had organized a reddish tri color procession... celebrating independence and abusing the opposition in its own way!
Back home, sipped my cola and back to my television....Channels were busy flashing SRK's humilation at the airport while wannabe pg 3 ites shared the space to voice out their grievances at different airports in the world!!!! US inconsideration, racial discrimination again highlighted at its peak with independence at the backdrop...
15th August' 1942:
A woman in her mid 30s had walked 10 miles, just to get a glimpse of Bapu... She would be meeting Mahatma for the first time...She was a middle class housewife of 1940s in rural Bengal. A mother of five, married at a very young age, she was deeply moved by Gandhiji's fiery speech. She wanted to do her bit for the nation......
Her gold bangles were the only ornaments that were left..... She had saved them for her elder daughter's marriage....She touched Bapu's feet and handed it over to him....Her eyes were moist as Bapu blessed her.... She dreamt of an independent India someday....
I live in an independent India...
Happy Independence!
Loooked out of my balcony... the para club had got some dusty faded string of paper flags .... they were busy decorating the club premises with the national flag (keeping the ma mati oops trinamool colors aside)...
Switched on the radio...The RJs aimlessly blabbered on..."whats the meaning of independence for you".... listeners, over enthusiastic callers sang in patriotic songs, criticized corruption, praised our freedom fighters and finally hanged up after being assured of food vouchers and discount coupons...
Flipped the pages of the newspaper... Mother dairy had released its tri color ice cream named "Swad Desh"---Glanced at the page 3 sections... celebs sporting the whitest of the white had celebrated pre Independence party at some infamous pub...
Went to the nearest multiplex to buy tickets of Kaminay for the Sunday show... The mall was over crowded at 11 in the morning.... From sniffer dogs to sniffer bitches!.... School kids, teenagers, love birds, socialites, hot babes, ma mashi dada boudi .... sporting the best of their kurtas, sarees, salwar kameez and to top it all the miniature national flag sticking on to them as the icing on the cake...
All the shops offered 50% discount to celebrate independence day... from United colors of Benetton, Tommy Hilfiger, Levis or Victoria's Secret.... all were a part of the Indian independence... and the music which played at the backdrop was none other than Lata Mangeshkar's "Vande Mataram".... tri color baloons, tri color sarees, tri color kurtas... independence smeared all over....
While coming back... got stuck in a terrible jam... the ruling party had organized a reddish tri color procession... celebrating independence and abusing the opposition in its own way!
Back home, sipped my cola and back to my television....Channels were busy flashing SRK's humilation at the airport while wannabe pg 3 ites shared the space to voice out their grievances at different airports in the world!!!! US inconsideration, racial discrimination again highlighted at its peak with independence at the backdrop...
15th August' 1942:
A woman in her mid 30s had walked 10 miles, just to get a glimpse of Bapu... She would be meeting Mahatma for the first time...She was a middle class housewife of 1940s in rural Bengal. A mother of five, married at a very young age, she was deeply moved by Gandhiji's fiery speech. She wanted to do her bit for the nation......
Her gold bangles were the only ornaments that were left..... She had saved them for her elder daughter's marriage....She touched Bapu's feet and handed it over to him....Her eyes were moist as Bapu blessed her.... She dreamt of an independent India someday....
I live in an independent India...
Happy Independence!
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