Adieu

The soft hum of the Solaris V8 servers in the datacenter made me feel as if my cubicle was located next to a freeway. I reclined on the chair and removed the headphones from my ears. The song continued to play in subdued whisper, the floor was quiet as never before. My eyes burned with the want of a good nite sleep but my mind wouldn’t give in. I removed the specs and laid them on the table, rubbing my eyes I pondered over the problem at hand; I had to crack it before dawn.

I got up from my seat and took a walk around to clear my head for starting afresh. The evening seemed gloomy as I walked down the ramp. I sat on the bench, amongst bamboo plantations, staring into the void. The leaves of the Gulmohar trees rustled as soft breeze flew past them onto my face carrying undertones of the unknown to my ears. I tried hard to comprehend but they left me puzzled.

Desires, expectations, goals, accomplishments and achievements vetoed against my soul being at ease. I knew it was one of those sporadic surges that made me hate myself at times; similar to Socrates getting reincarnated in my soul to prove the right as wrong. Some of the wounds that kept on crawling deep beneath the surface, bearing an uncanny sentience to abet the unknown forces in making me feel low, something that confused me, made me believe in the incongruous juxtapositions of love and hate, success and failure, right and wrong, me and myself.

A new beginning ahead, but no signs of where to start? So much to do but so little time, I was trapped and about to break, but I knew that there would be someone to shine light as I walked. I returned to my desk, ‘Linking Park’s Somewhere I belong’ hit my mind.

When this began
I had nothing to say, and I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me
I was confused
And I'd let it all out to find, that I'm not the only person with these things in mind
Inside of me
When all the vacancy the words revealed, is the only real thing that I've got left to feel

And I've got nothing to say
I can't believe I didnt fall right down on my face
I was confused
Looking everwhere only to find, that it's not the way I had imagined it all in my mind
So what am I
What do I have but negativity, cause I cant justify the way everyone is looking at me

Nothing to loose, nothing to gain, hollow and alone
And the fault is my own and the fault is my own

I wanna heal, I wanna feel
What I thought was never real
I want to let go of the pain I felt so long
Erase all the pain til its gone
I wanna heal, I wanna feel
Like Im close to something real
I want to find something I’ve wanted all along
Somewhere I belong

I will never know, myself until I do this on my own
And I will never feel, anything else, until my wounds are healed
I will never be anything, till I break away from me
I will break away, I'll find myself today

I wanna feel like I'm somewhere I belong

It’s the last working day of the year and everyone wished me before departing. In much the same way as I bid adieu to 2006 ……

Six Degrees of Friendship

The theory ‘Six degrees of separation’ goes somewhat like this …. “You are connected to every other person in this world with maximum six intermediaries”. Our group personifies this one of its corollaries …….. ‘Six degrees of Friendship’.

My friendship with Amar dates back to our engineering days when we first met due to our common interest, which was music. We knew each other before, as we were in the same school, but we were more of acquaintances than friends. Our first ever orchestra together was a big hit and we have been best of buddies since then. A second common interest was chicken, which we religiously devoured once a week.

I met Varun after joining UGS. Even though we had been professionally introduced, our friendship embarked when I met him at our office ‘tapri’ for a fag; one of our common interest. As we got to know each other, I discovered another common interest, Varun was amazing at playing guitar.

Ganeshutsav 2006 had mediocre response from our colony and the organizers knew it was time for ‘Disaster Recovery’. They convinced Amar, used him as a bait to get me aboard and before it could sink in, me and Amar were discussing about the orchestra over a hot cup of coffee.

“Bhide, we need a guitarist this time” Amar said
“Yeah, I need company on stage, I really get bored out there seeing everyone staring at me throughout the entire orchestra” I replied
“Hmmmm, fair enough, and we need one more female singer. Our Alka Yagnik sings Pehela Nasha five scales down” Amar smiled
“-5 transpose, I can’t distinguish between your and her voice dude” I chided.
“Done then, I will look for the singer, you hunt for the guitarist”

One day, as I sat shortlisting the songs with Amar, it struck me the moment I discerned Kavita Krishnamoorty’s voice in the last possible octave.

“Howz the hunt going on?” I asked
“She is coming here in some time” without even blinking, Amar replied.

I met Maithili, who was sister of Amar’s colleague. And then during our rehearsals, Maithili met Varun (read met as ‘her voice hit his ears, his strumming hit her heart, eyes met, songs bellowed, glances exchanged, vibes overwhelmed, smoking quit and so on ….). The orchestra was eventful, with one of our star members honoring us with his stunts, but I knew that a oblivious bond was formed between us.

Soon after the orchestra we all met for a trek in few days. Maithili got a friend of hers along, Neetu, for the trek and after an adventurous mountain climbing, slipping, wandering in the wild, clicking intuitive fotos, there were fireworks between Neetu and Amar (read fireworks as eyes met, expressions exchanged, jokes overwhelmed, features clicked, Garfield was born, area 51 visited, twice to lush, 27 songs cd burnt and so on….)

Today as I sit back and recollect the way our friendship blossomed, it seems to me like a jigsaw puzzle. How does a girl from south, a boy and a girl from north, two boys from west, and one girl from ……….., let her be from terra incognita, get bonded? How do we complete the puzzle by falling in the right place? May be I might have to wait till April …….. but I know one thing for sure that we are missing one piece to complete the jigsaw puzzle; just one more to complete the six degrees of friendship ………

wHATZ tHE fUN iN wHISKY

I was home alone for a nite as my parents went to Karjat to visit my grandma. I called up Nil to ask whether he was interested in camping at my place. He came over at ten and we settled in my balcony. Chips, milds, whisky, sprite and lotsa water. Alcohol causes dehydration; drink as much water as possible, a rule of thumb we inherited from our uncles and parents as a ‘How To …. Guide for life after 25 !!”

We discussed at length on the ever hot topic in both our households ………… “Marriage”. Girls we met till date for matrimony purposes, expectations and disappointments. We then moved to relatives and kinda gossiped like the elderly ‘Aatyas’, when they meet at a get together after a long time. Soon it was midnight and hunger took over all our senses.

“Kya khate?” I aked Nil
“Lets go to Great Punjab and have chicken”
“I have an idea, let us parcel chicken handi. Mom has got left batter in the fridge, we will make nice hot dosa’s”
“I am game, alto ……. Lets go”

We head banged our way to the hotel, which is open till four in the morning. We ordered for our food, paid the bill and waited for the parcel.

Cause: Whisky

Effect 1:
Great Punjab had a live Dhol player that nite, who entertained guests at every table. Nil’s adrenaline surged listening to the rhythm.

“Shall I go and dance with them?” he asked me
“Ja na dude”

Nil joined three different groups doing bhangra with them. Finally he came back.

“Boss, you should learn to play the dhol, then I will come every weekend to dance at your place” Nil said.
“Chal dude, we got the parcel” I dragged Nil with me.

Effect 2:
We came home and I put the pan for heating. As I swirled the first dosa on the pan Nil chirped ….

“Champo, we did not get the rotis, I hope the dosa’s work out”
“What do you mean by ‘work out’, you don’t trust me? Lemme prove it dude” I replied

Suddenly the flame flickered and died. We have a twenty-one cylinder centralized pipe gas, which has another twenty one cylinder backup. NMC guaranteed the pipe will never run out of gas; I did not want to prove them wrong at two in the morning and when we were dead hungry that we could eat an entire horse. I tried relighting the burner, each one of them, but in vain.

The pipe ran dry. The dosa still half cooked.


Effect 3:
I remembered the cylinder lying in our guest room balcony. I asked Nil to unplug the pipe gas hose from the burners till I got the cylinder from the balcony. As I carried the cylinder in my right hand till the kitchen, the vitrified flooring caught my attention. I asked Nil to get a floor mat from the dry balcony. He placed the floor mat down and asked me ….

“This doesn’t work all by itself; do you have another hose and some contraption that fits on nozzle.”
“Yeah, I do” I pulled out the necessary things from the drawers.

We fit contraption on the nozzle and Nil spilled water, dropped utensils in his fight to fit the new hose to the burners. As I proceeded to ignite, Nil questioned …

“You were holding the cylinder for a long time dude. Either your gym is helping or the cylinder is empty”
“Shutttttttttttupppppppppp” I snorted and tried to ignite again. It didn’t,
“Champo, this cylinder is empty, no wonder you could lift it for so much time” Nil exclaimed.

The uncooked dosa and spicy chicken in the bowl were testing our limits. Survival of the fittest.

Effect 4:
“I know there is one more cylinder here” I opened the storage space below the burners. There was one cylinder there, its seal intact, which definitely meant it was full. The only problem was getting to it. I cleared some of the boxes, moved oil containers and reached the cylinder cursing the interior who had convinced mom that cylinder was the least important thing in kitchen (due to the pipe gas) and should be stacked in a remote place. After fixing the contraption, I got up and looked at Nil; he was going to utter something and I cut him point blank ……

“Don’t even think about saying it” I said
“Champ, I was pondering whether there is a problem with this burner. Do you have a spare set?”

I turned the knob and held the match on the burner; it sprang to life. Hurriedly I cooked seven-eight dosas. Chicken with dosa @ 2:30am tastes awesome. After dinner, we stood smoking in our balcony. Nil said blowing out a smoke rings ……..

“Therez lotsa fun having whisky”
“You bet ….. ”

Never ask

I committed a crime, as per her, a heinous crime. It’s aptly said; don’t ask a girl her age. I would like to add, don’t ask her weight too!!!

We met at our katta after a long time. As we were chatting, Nammo joined us. Ummm … not to say, but she appeared to have gained some excess flab. I tried to play with words to compliment her.

“Hey Nammo, you look healthier after coming back to Pune”
“Huh, mhanje?”
“Mhanje, healthier you know”
“So am I looking healthier for good or for worse?”

I should have just replied “for good”, but the ever active bug (EAB) in me blurted

“Healthier is a relative term, I ..”
“So you mean I have become fat?”
“Yes”
“Yes!!!”
“I mean no”
“No??”
“I just wanted to compliment you”
“By saying that I am fat”
“Come on, you have put on weight”
“So you were looking at me”
“Bole to?”
“Were you looking at me or not?”
“If I look at somebody else while talking to you, people will say I am cock-eyed”
“Why do you look at me?”

“What’s your height?” Baandu saved me
“5’6 ”
“And your weight?” EAB again
“Six …………… shutup”

She was grumpy the whole evening, we teased her a lot and she smirked at me for my compliment.