... And miles to go before i sleep...

It was the funniest, craziest, awesomely insane decision that I would have ever taken. To my surprise, though, I have absolutely no regrets for having done so. my mother and two of her sisters had decided to go visit my place in khandala. I was asked but I had cordially turned down the offer. I felt I could do better here. My cousin urged me to come along and she said we’ll get back the next day. It was 4 in the evening in any case and it would not hurt too much to go there for twelve odd hours and get back the next day. So, in a matter of ten minutes I packed and we upped and awayed to Khandala.



That would be my pool-side. The most serene places I have known. Just sitting around here doing nothing much is the most euphoric feeling ever.

Anyway, so we reach the Khandala station at 7:30 or so and its purple… the sky is this shade of purple I have never seen. The temperature is just perfect and its raining just enough to wet you but not drench you to a sticky gloom.

The three cousins and I decide to walk it to my place (a fifteen minute uphill climb) and the three sisters decide to take the auto. Alls well as we reach home and comfort ourselves with hot coffee and toast. I realize soon enough that I should meet my sweet-heart, Karishma, while I am here and so I promptly call the lady. Little did I know that I was going to be invited over to breakfast with her and that too at 7:00 a.m for she had her class starting at nine… ugh!

A note on Karishma: Kash (for I call her so…) has been my friend for the past 6 odd years and nothing has ever changed the kind of bonding we shared. She did her BMS from Jai Hind and an MBA from S.P.Jain Dubai. Now placed with TCS and is being trained at Khandala’s North Point Training center (which by the way is a mind-blowing place.)

We seldom meet and barely talk but we have never been blank about what the other is up to. Quite amazingly, we meet up at weird places like we did this day. This is how the most beautiful day of my life went…

As planned, I wake up bright and early at 6:30 and get dressed up. It was odd because I had to be presentable and at the same time I could not screw my formal attire up in the rain. Never the less I was ready to leave and sure enough the lady calls to check whether I would be keeping my appointment or not. I had never heard of the place I was supposed to go to and at seven in the rains, in the middle of a bloody forest, I was not to find any mode of transport or the faintest sign of human existence to even guide me through my unknown path. ‘no sweat’ I thought and walked straight out of the gate armed with an umbrella. Rustic Highlands was what I had to head for and from the bare minimal that I knew, I took the direction I trusted my intuition to show. Then began the wildest, most breathtaking walks I have ever taken.



This was the road that lay before me as I breathed every bit of fresh air my lungs could facilitate.

I them came across a board that showed me direction to ‘North Point’ and I was happy that I would at least be seeing her. (I really doubted that I would make it in time, or make it there at all!)



This is the sight of North Point from where I stood and I did not know then that it was three kilo meters away from where I saw the board. I still walked on. The fog got thicker and the road steeper. The air became crisp and the light spray on the face with chilling gusts just felt heavenly. I know I sound insane ranting about it but I could possibly write a book on how I felt as I inched to the top.



I have never liked trekking but for something like this….. What can I say?

After 45 minutes of blissful agony I made it to North Point and that, sadly, was not the end of my trial. I lost my way in the jungle that the place was and there was no one to even guide me to the reception. In the process, though, I took the trip round this magnificent estate. At one point I felt I wanted to take a job in TCS only to be trained here for a month.



This here, is the view offered by the lobby in the reception area. This is where I met Kash, all formally dressed. She looked gorgeous as always.

We met her friends and I had a brilliant breakfast and some amazing conversation. Half an hour later she had to get to class and I had to head back home. Considering my mother would be quite shaken not to find me around, I’d better minimize the time lapse. She offered to call for an auto but I had to walk back…. Had to!

These are some more pics I took on the way back.





This is the whole estate…. Splendid!



A small waterfall on the side of the road that lead down to Rustic Highlands. The whole way was dotted with these on the side every few meters.

I must have walked twelve kilometers overall and it was totally worth it. The scenic beauty and the weather. The falls, the rain, the mist, the thin air compeling one to breathe harder with each step and of course this killer of a smile….



Totally paid off!

Retrospective Introspection!

I rediscovered this term today after having used it a long time back. Its so self-explanatory and apt for what it is meant to convey.

I met Sanju mam today and while speaking to her, I spoke of this innate ability in me to step out of character and watch myself for a while. Through all the pain and anguish and anxiety and hate and love and euphoria…. Just observe it all happening and smile and say thank you to the lord for the knowledge he has thus provided in the form of an experience. That’s what I call retrospective introspection. It was a beautiful day of happy jokes and a mind-blowing weather. Sanju mam is to be hospitalized and I hate to think of her in that bed. Wanted to cheer her up so I felt like spending time with her. To my surprise though, she was quite cheered up and was more kicked about the ‘vacation’ that was coming up. Love that lady, I tell you.

Then I decided to take a look at my place at Juhu. I walked in and opened the balcony. The gust that came in from the sea side just about blew me off. It was such a beautiful sight. Actually it was too dark to see much but all I could hear was the sound of an angry sea and the constant and consistent rhythm of the pouring rain. The trees swayed in silence and the rustle of the leaves was almost lulled by the sound of the breeze sweeping all into a deep endless slumber. I stood and watched through an abyss of nature’s night-out. She was on a roll to say the least. It sounded like a rain-forest in the middle of Amazon. It looked that way too. I could hear myself breath and think. I wanted to sing but breaking that silence would be criminal so I decided otherwise. It was late and I had to tear myself away from that bliss. I could’ve just stood there wondering about myself and all that surrounded me. That was the perfect time for it… Retrospective introspection.

I Rote To Ruth

I don’t know why I titled my blog so. But it sounds cool. In fact, this is the first time I wrote a letter to someone and what an experience. To pull out a pad and scribble words onto the blank papers, is absolutely irreplaceable by fingers tapping on a keyboard. The sight of a bright white envelope and the four lines of an address is again a superior high as compared to a single line of something@somethingelse.somthing.

After I had finished writing it, I was filled with the laziness of a lion to go and post it. I mean, the post office is a 1½ minute trot from where I reside but NO… lazy. My father then made me go down to the bank SIX TIMES over and I’m not joking. I took it as providence and the sixth time around, I decided to post it. The whole thing is so much fun. Walking over in the pouring rain to a deserted post office where the government servants sit around behind their counters with the expression of a disinterested munshi on a holiday. “Can I have a five rupee stamp please?” I ask. The lady shows me her palm like a traffic cop and opens her drawer. It takes like 20 years for her to pull out a stamp and shove it to my side of the counter. She then slunk into her chair and almost slept off till I asked for glue. So the lady snarls and takes another 30 years to go in and get some gooey looking blue substance which felt like solidified mucus… Yuk! So I stick the damn stamp and walk over to the red post box. I was overwhelmed and as I pushed the envelope down the throat of the red dormant beast, I had the warmest feelings running through my heart and I felt myself smiling. I even whispered ‘take care, Ruth’ as I let go of the envelope. I felt the rain hit my face with gentle slaps and the breeze caressing each one very gently. I walked home and realized how nice it feels to write the old fashioned way. I’m sure to write a few more now. More than writing it’s the effort and love that goes into going to the post office and stamping and the best part is letting the envelope drop into the many of its own kind. Each one having something to convey. Each, as filled with news (good and/or bad) and affection as every human being in a crowd.

Somehow I’m glad to have changed my opinion about snail mail. Thanks for the motivation Ruth.

Break Through

One has achieved something after a lot of perseverance and a hell lot of patience. I must admit that I was almost fighting a battle with myself. A battle to stay put and wait till all that I was denied is given to me. A tall order some might say, but I knew it had to be accomplished. I was directioned and I held on to a desire, a desire to follow instinct. A desire to learn how to make profession of hobby. To become an ace in my territory of my choice. And this is where it begins. My tryst with destiny. After trying a lot of things (which I shall not mention), I finally made it through the Xavier’s Institute of Communications. I’m joyed and more relieved to know that there is a chance that I belong here (In the ad industry that is).

Some beautiful lines (extracts from Ullyses) that inspire me at this point and maybe always will are…

…I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
Life to the lees. All times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone;…

…I am part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherthrough
Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades
Forever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make and end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things;…

…To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought…

…There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail;
There gloom the dark, broad seas…

And most importantly of all…

…but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield…

Thank you lord for the notice you have taken to prayers unmouthed but sincere… and continue doing so for all that need the light. Thank you!

Bring it on already!!!

This heat is now being a pain in the …. Ummmm…. You know where.

I mean, it’s about time the rain gods woke up. Usually Bombay is hit by the damn monsoon in the first week of June and for whatever reason the heat is getting quite unbearable…. My sentiments are best reflected by the song that just played on my play list and it’s a bloody pleasure to listen to it after such a long time. In fact, the band’s name reminds me of the good old Nerul days when they used to call me ‘Blind Melon’ and invariably it would be followed by ‘Deaf Tones’… haha. So this is how I feel in the words of Blind Melon…

NO RAIN… L

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain
I like watchin' the puddles gather rain
And all I can do is just pour some tea for two
and speak my point of view
But it's not sane, It's not sane
I just want some one to say to me
I'll always be there when you wake
Ya know I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today
So stay with me and I'll have it made
And I don't understand why I sleep all day
And I start to complain that there's no rain
And all I can do is read a book to stay awake
And it rips my life away, but it's a great escape
escape......escape......escape......
All I can say is that my life is pretty plain
ya don't like my point of view
ya think I'm insane
Its not sane......it's not sane

So now that I nagged and winged all day,
I do expect there’ll be rain…
There’ll b rain…. There’ll be rain…. There’ll be raiaiaiaiaiaiaiain!!!

Haha, sowy for adding that but it goes with the tune yaar so Maaf hai!

Up-dates

God, it’s been a while since I got this time to write something and get over the Ahemdabad trip. It’s brilliant how the people have really taken efforts for staying in touch with each other. The Y! Group and the sharing of photographs and videos and incessant calls and sms and the works… I feel if it weren’t for the techy stuff, this trip would have been a blur in all our memories and faded by now. On the flip side, the charm and excitement of receiving the snail mail is a different high altogether, right?

So what has one been up to lately…

Interacting with Mrs. Sanjaya Misra on a regular basis is quite entertaining and thought provoking. I loved it when she took me with her to this meeting with Schredar Dunkan (may be wrongly spelt but I need not mention that categorically). It was about a training course they are looking out for. To train their employees in terms of team work and assertive thinking and communication skills and may be some stress management kind of stuff. It was a pleasure to be amongst the shirts and ties that walked around the place. I have never been fond of corporate life but it’s just too ubiquitous to be hated. Theek hai… no fondness, no regrets either.

XIC entrance, my last resort in educating myself with the fine art of ad making…. (Bull shit, no one can teach ad making but ya, the course is hands-on and bloody intensive). Got through the writtens and now have GD and if filtered from the lot, PI. So that’s on the cards. Praying to get through.

I have been meeting up with friends everyday and it’s a bloody high too meet different people from your life, one at a time. Lovely. Tavern still rocks, the smoke still dances, the booze still flows and the laughs and shouts and quaint lyrics still blurt out of drunken moths in complete devotion to the lords of rock!

But do not get me wrong, I’ve been a nice bacchha also! I’ve been going to the office whenever I can and traveling to the suburbs for work and running errands and not fussing about it.

It has been a beautiful life and it sure will continue to be! pakka! Promise!

my trip to Ah-MAD-a-(not so)BAD!

Back after ten whole days. Feels good to smell Mumbai. There was this one decision I made which really happened to craft my thoughts (if not change my life), and that was to take this trip to Ahemadbad. MICA, one of the most renowned institutes in the field of communication held this wonderful workshop for an age group ranging from 16 to 24. it was an experience and quite a motivating one at that.



This was the very flight we (my cousin harsh and i) flew by.

Ten days of complete madness and a real organized one, followed. The campus was absolutely mind blowing. It’s a shame, I only have some videos so cant show u that here, but this is a picture that shows the road that connected the main classrooms and the various hostel buildings.



And it was two in the morning when I clicked this one. Trust me, the campus was anything but empty. There was a 24 hour canteen and a 24 hour comp lab and a 24 hour library so people could work all night and they did. It was hot most of the time but still the public was quite chilled out. Enough of advertising MICA but I really loved the place. Some how it hurt me a lot to see that I tried and I failed at getting in there and doing all the things that these students did. Writing jingles at four in the morning, doing TV commercials for fun sake, writing scripts, chatting over coffee and cigarettes, the works and all at unholy hours. Just missed it. ‘sigh’

That would be the group outside McDonalds... amazing each one of them

Anyway, Raunika Sethi, the most calm and matured 24-year-old I have ever come across. The coordinator of the entire workshop. She had a wild persona and god knows she just inspired me to no apparent end. The lady had an aura of complete excellence and she perfected the art of commanding respect. I swear I would have fallen in love with her but I respected her too much to have considered such a base thought. She was a sweet heart.

Raunica, you are the best

Speaking of sweethearts… Ruth Saldana. Man, what a lady… a complete laugh-riot-package-deal. I mean, unholy hours and late nights would not inhibit her sense of humor in the least. Doing her BA with literature was a turn on enough and then she had to go and speak impeccable English. Complimented by the tangential jokes which only I (probably) understood and a machine gun like reply to joke and joke to reply session happened. One crazy instance is when this kid sits behind Ruth and me and starts listening to us rolling in laughter. With a poker straight face, the kid asks, “Ruth, why do you laugh so much?” I had half a mind to turn and whack the kid for all his sins he has ever committed but all I heard was Ruth laghing a little harder. Incessant jokes continued and at this brief moment when Ruth takes a break, the kid says “ok… now… close your eyes… and take a deep breath… and do not laugh anymore!” That would be the cue for her to burst out in splits. Poor guy died of abashment. Then there were the Ruth-isms which for the life of me I cant remember. One was ‘dogma: single word for son of a bitch’… and this comes up in the middle of a classroom session. Could not control any part of my body when I heard this. And then there was the ‘prof-with-funny-pronunciations’ syndrome. Cant really explain how we did it, but we spoke in phonetics. I mean, the hight to which written communication can go, chatting in phonetics?!! Crazy… but Ruth oh Ruth, so much fun.



Then there were the sundry mad people who made lots of jokes and fun and the usual stand alone types. Then the ones you cant stand and others who are too sweet and touchy to make jokes or pass funny comments on. But all in all, it just changed a whole lot of things for me. Not to mention my experience with hospitals and doctors, considering my cousin decides to play football with a plastic bottle at 3 a.m. falls and dislocates his left shoulder. Lost out on a couple of days but nothing to regret. I learnt to deal with lots of sudden decision making and I guess I did score pretty well at that. Got back home on the 1st of June and had some amazing memories rolling in my head ever since. Some other pictures that I randomly took are here.



That’s Roxie, the laziest German Alsatian ever. he slept in class and inspired us a great deal.



Ruth found a fried frog basking in the sun (if I may say so)… yeah, the frog is dead and crispy.



That’s times of India news press… HUGE!



That is the only auditorium in the country to have a floor seating and its in MICA… bottoms down!



Raunak with a golden voice sings an Abhijeet Sawant number… Indian Idiot!



Harsh returning home with a broken limb!

Mr. Zeeshaan and Radhika, the two extreme wackheads stand together... killers i tell you

Mr. Accident: Pratik was the man... 'i will jump from the sky for you darling'

Ritu was the cutest and funniest of the lot and also a majorly cathartic sadist i must say. loved her

our man Ritesh knew nothing better than what he is doing now... the buddy I can never forget

Amul almost hired her after she sang her 'Doodh Malai' hit single... Jagrit, muahhh!

Elvis + Leonard Cohen still is not = Phalgun 'Venky' Reddy... i will kill for that voice man!