Random Ramblings

“ Churchgate", I said. He dumped my luggage into the boot space and went to the driver’s seat. He was a man probably in his late 50s, seemed like a person who hardy opened his mouth, so unlike many drivers who start blabbering the moment you step in the taxi. A tall man, with some hairs white, though they were mostly covered by a cap, rather a hat. His face wasn’t visible, especially in the dim light little after sunset. But fifteen minutes in the journey which would take probably an hour, his baritone voice started talking. He was quite amazed by the level of ignorance I had about Mumbai. I told him that I belong to a small town near Allahabad. He also belonged to Allahabad. And then came numerous discussions from government policies to sports to Indian economics. He revealed that he left his hometown in his 20s and is has been a long since then. He had a daughter who was married and a son who would be getting married shortly. However, I didn’t go deep into his personal life...

Few hours and it has been world of a difference. I had to catch a flight and to catch that I had to go to Delhi taking a 2 hour ride in general compartment of a train. In the general compartment, it was not much overcrowded, maybe 120 odd people in a bogie that can seat around 80 people. Not overcrowded by any standards in this part of world, and they all were comfortably adjusted at their seats. There was a teen smoking his beedi, who reluctantly put it off after I complained that it was causing uneasiness in me. Then there was that lady in her teens probably married who was hollering on probably everyone out there. Then there was a group of 3 ladies, of whom one was a grandmother, and 2 had probably 9 kids between them (I could count only till 9!). They seemed highly ignorant about where Delhi was and were reluctant to believe that they had still more than an hour before Delhi came. Yet they were adamant on being close to gate as they had kids and didn’t want to be left behind when...

Do good intentions necessarily do good? I think, at times an action or even an advice with a good, perfectly noble intention may do more harm than good, or do no good at all. Still it is often followed, and often believed to be gospel truth ... not because of the merit in the advice or action, but due to the tag of good 'intentions' attached.

The performance of Indian team in the cricket world cup has disappointed millions of cricket fans (... or the word 'fans' is an understatement!) across the country, and I too am one of them. But isn't it that we are going overboard with it ? Like burning effigies, attacking the houses of players, or a politician going overboard by saying "I can play better cricket than the team" among many other derogatory things. Yes, they were same people who were adulated and at some places, even worshipped and now they are suddenly living under a constant threat, by the same junta. Cricket is not alone. Often in various other fields, people love to see you rise, then adulate you once you are at top, raises its expectations and then they literally rip you apart if you fail to meet their great expectations even once. This might be most in case of sports (cricket in this part of world), but even other fields have ween the same. For example few years ago bollywood had seen a sen...

Why do people believe in God? Is being religious tantamount to believing in God? Does God exist? These are few questions which have kept many philosophers and thinkers busy since ages, and often at loggerheads with each other and with the society. I am no philosopher, nor a great thinker. But yes, these questions do arise in my mind, and too often especially when I see the countless customs and traditions, which often overlap with some superstitions, when I am told to perform rituals or puja, when I am criticized for being an atheist as I am unwilling to indulge in sycophancies to please gods for favors and often here and there. I am not an atheist. But I am not a great believer either. Actually I am a terribly confused person. I am not sure why do people believe blindly in an all powerful supreme being without questioning, and accepting (or pretending to!) everything that comes their way – good or bad as the will of god. Maybe it is just because it is convenient to do so. It o...

Sometimes life becomes so boring, especially when we have nothing to do, when sleep eludes us, we don’t want to touch any pending work, when we are already suffering from an overdose of movies , when there is no one around to have a bakar and when we do all kinds of crazy/ weird stuff to keep ourselves occupied. Some of the things which I have been doing of late are listed. It is as boring as it gets, and this list is by no means exhaustive: · Searching Wikipedia for information on millions of things ranging from Mahabharata, Ramayana, and Gods to Chinese cuisine to Statistics of religions in USA to tea gardens blah blah. · Changing my winamp playlist and then deleting most of the added songs. · Searching for useless movie related trivia in some unknown movie. · Calculating for the n th time the marks I shall need to pass the financial management course. · Downloading files from LAN and deleting 97.73% of them, and meanwhile transferrin...

I wish to go back to days when I used to rush back from school eager to tell my mother about the trivialest incident in school. When I used to bombard my dad with millions of when/ where/ how/ why/ whom questions. When I used to cry in school because my shoelace was open. When I used to collect as many unripe mangoes from the tree. When I used to fight with friends after my batting was over, in a hope to get it once again. When I used to flaunt my toys to my friends, and feel jealous of theirs. When I used to feel euphoric after winning a balloon game. When I longed for the moment when I’ll get an ice cream. When I feared that drinking tea will change the color of skin to black. When I used to wait for the recess bell to ring for the Tiffin break, and rush to play ‘lock and key’. When I used to fight with my brother for that slightly larger piece of cake. When I used to shake my teeth anticipating when it will break. When I used to feel proud of knowing alphabet...

The train was about to leave. I stared in the berth opposite to mine. There was a small kid of maybe 9-10 monthes, her cheeks slightly reddish, and he was wrapped in a pink woolen cloth. Maybe it would be apt to call her "gulabi golu". Accompanying her was her mother, a young lady in her 20s, maybe around halfway through, and her "mausi" (mother's sister), who might have been a year or two younger. The kid was cute, and it was no surprise that the ones accompanying the kid were beautiful. In no time I found myself playing with the kid. And meanwhile, I was having glimpses of her mausi and mother. It was probably the first occasion when there was some good looking lady near my seat in a journey. I thought this and smiled, though no one except me was aware why. and, then suddenly, the kids mausi talked to me, "BHAIYA, aap kidhar jaa rahe ho ?" "Kalti !", i thought to myself ...and continued my journey

/*Too philoshophical stuff...*/ Every time I see around me, I see faces full of worry, a face that is sad, a face that angry, a face that is irritated, a face that is worried. Behind the face that smiles often hides something which is not so apparent. Behind the smiling façade are multitudes of layers of worries, fear or anguish. Many of these worried faces are the ones that rue upon wasted chances, or things not going their way, or things which were never under their control, or things that could have been. People do all kinds of things for it – from cribbing endlessly to desperately seeking divine help for a due/ undue favors to indulging in millions of ifs and buts, while many find solace in fact that it was ‘willed’, and they are not in control of whatever happens to them. Though resigned to fate, yet they are still worried about them. But that’s life. Life is not always fair. Not everyone gets what he wants. If everyone gets what he wants, the only thing that will have any co...

When I came to this place almost seven months back, I knew it is going to be tough, but I never thought that it would be such a big battle for survival. But now when I look at my result and celebrate about having ‘survived’ the system (as on today, as I know not what lies few months down the line !), though not in a great health, I often think of those who haven’t. Here, the system is quite strict and also at one level though it is flexible, when it comes to discipline and academic standards it is as hard as a rock. In the relative grading system F is the lowest and D is the next. If in a year you accumulate 2 Fs, or 5 Ds or 1 F and 3 Ds; you have to repeat a year. And few Profs love to give a few Ds and Fs. There have been quite a few deserving candidates who are in the “red zone”, but there are many who don’t deserve to be there. This may be my personal opinion but this is reiterated by probably the entire batch. Passing marks is 35, yet many end up getting 33 or 34 and miss the...