My Musical Chair

I have never known any person who writes(writing in all its glorious forms)when they are truly happy. And it's not a recent fad created by Generation-W(hine). It has been there for ages. You just have to look back to understand what I mean. If you went to school or college, where your classmates daintily raised their hands (guys and girls both) whenever the teacher asked if anyone wrote poems, you would know that there are no happy poets even at that age. And if you don't connect with this, consider: all the classic authors thrived upon tales of their own or inspired miseries. Even Shakespeare was more known for his dramas rather than his comedies. I doubt Dickens would have gained popularity if he had written about happy orphans instead of the memorable dirty little Twist. Or, where would Little Sisters have been had Lizzie not died of Scarlett fever? I remember in my college days, somebody had passed on an educational dark piece on Solitary Reaper; the real meaning behind it. But, nevertheless I had always thought Wordsworth had created a sad little poem about loneliness when he wrote about the solitary reaper. So, why exactly is it that whenever over the centuries people have felt miserable, they are compelled to seize the pen(or the keyboard in modern times) and jot down a prose or a drama or a whine(blog post)???

But who am I to question or even defy these ancient rituals? So here I am writing... nah whining yet again. But my most pressing misery is I don't know which misery to pen..errr...type about. Will it be yet another rendition of 'Tale of Two cities'(read Delhi and Mumbai)? Or should it be about fading relationships? Maybe how the rich gets richer, while the middle class man gets more bewildered...Perhaps a philosophical one, where I can explore the need of human beings to be miserable in the first place. Hmmmmm...

I think this post should be about musical chairs. Surprised? Let me explain. I have been playing musical chairs at my workplace these days. The same game we used to play at birthday parties when we were young. Only here, there is no tangible gift. Just the highest 'gift' you can ever get at your workplace. Any guesses? No it's not the big fat bonus, or the promotion. It is job satisfaction. It seems not everyone can get it. You have to play musical chairs and try your luck. Well, my luck seems to be fresh out. I admit I am a bad sport, I have played and I have lost. Several times. And I have a big frown on my face. And I refuse to shake hands with the winner. And I don't know whether to give it another try or walk away. Maybe try my hand at some other game. But maybe the problem is not the game, but has to do with my being a bad sport. Is there any way to know?

Maybe what I need is a perspective. Can it be that I am just suffering from a case of his-grass-is-greener-than-mine? Perhaps, its just the destiny of some people to bear their share of crosses and drag their iron balls around till they finally get what they wanted. Whatever the case be, is it worthwhile to flee the ground in middle of the battle? And in hopes of what? Ephemeral dreams which may culminate into reality or evaporate like dew in the morning?

Hmmmm....well, if I remember correctly, musical chairs did used to be one of my favourite party games!!! Let the music play...

When the sandman makes your balance sheet...

No matter how old or young we are, we always try to idealize our life; the perfect partner, the perfect house, the perfect job, perfect car, even the perfect pet. And why not? It's our life, everybody should be allowed a perfect dream. But the problem is that it is exactly what it pretends to be; a dream. Now I am not saying that all of us don't end up having the perfect lives. We do. Like any long project, we are adept at breaking down these dreams into goals, goals translate into timelines, and timelines lead to deadlines! As we grow up, we realize its not just about setting goals, but also about prioritizing, letting go of some of your ephemeral desires in interests of the larger scheme of things.

I recently met up with a dear friend of mine, we have known each other since our school days(FIITJEE days to be precise). I will always remember her as this petite young woman, with wild curly hair tied firmly in a rubber band, roaming around the coaching school halls in her shorts revealing those envious chicken legs (mine used to resemble more like ham!). Little has changed by way of her looks, for which I am very thankful. Shoot me for being a coward, for wanting some comforting constants in my life! It makes life that much simpler, to locate her in unknown meeting places, in overcrowded restaurants and railway stations once every year. By some strange twist of fate, we have always been able to meet up once in a year ever since I moved out of Delhi 6 years ago. I would give an arm and a leg for keeping this babe in my life for as long as I live, would hop on a plane in a hurry to fly half way across the world just for an afternoon siesta somewhere in the lanes of Paris if need ever arose.

But, my nice little 'constant' world received a kick in the shins this time when I met her. Yeah, she looked the same, maybe filled out a little(thank the dear lord and cheesecakes I suspect), but yet something was amiss. Half way through the first hour, the errant bulb flicked on. My most adorable firebrand, the girl with a million revolutionary ideas for changing the world, the restless lass who couldn't stick to one thought for too long, had at last discovered the world she was born in wasn't half that bad. And this transformation could only be credited to a blossoming relationship she had decided finally worth getting into. I found myself recognizing the same patterns that I had fallen prey to 2 years back and it was then when I started realizing the full impact of "letting go" of dreams for the sake of the larger scheme. Its often not the dreams of perfect house or the perfect car one lets go to attain the nirvana of happiness we seek...It's the crazy dreams, dreams of going out there and doing something, dreams anticipation of which made us the angst ridden,opinionated, rock loving, head banging rebels of our youth. We mellow down, we kill the wanderlust that seemed to be so inherent in our souls once upon a time, we pit our dreams against each other, we rationalize. It's often said the rebels, the poets, the artists, the revolutionaries have to live with the pain and the genius of their art, the choices they make. Perhaps, its only the destiny of the few to endure the pain while the rest of us compromise and lead an ordinary, happier life.

And when the dreams which aren't fully dead yet try to tantalize you time and again, you shut yourself in a room, and create a completely pointless post at 1am in the night to get over it.

Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head

It’s funny how some things just hit you out of nowhere. Things which you would bet on your life you are well off without, things that made you shudder at mere memory, things you were so happy to leave behind, because something much better lay ahead. And then they just ram into you one fine day as you are sitting at your workstation minding your own business. This “thing” I’m talking about is a city actually. Pune to be precise. I’ve moved around so much in 22 years of my life, I thought I’d seen it all, done it all. I thought I was experienced enough to know I need something when I look at it. Pune was definitely not one of them. Sure the city put me in circumstances that forced me into isolation, which in turn resulted in me meeting my life partner. Sure the city gave me a post graduate degree, which enables me to sit right here in my office, have my own workstation, anticipate my very first big fat salary. And of course I made some friends on whom I can depend on and who can depend on me anytime of the day. But so what? I also had pretty difficult, stressful times there. On the risk of sounding clichéd I’ve to say that time has a way of healing a person. It’s amazing how time can act as a sieve so that all the bad memories just pass through leaving behind only the good ones to cherish. Perhaps this is one of the mechanisms by which the universe tries to keep up us optimistic, build up hope. Imagine what kind of people we might become if all of us have that pent up rage from all that has gone wrong in our lives. Now, this might seem like too dramatic, but I firmly believe that there’s a greater scheme of things which plays a great role in our daily lives. If it’s not true then how’s it that today of all days when I am wishing I was back in Pune the weather plays to my mood’s tune, with the skies weeping drenching me as I come to work. Yesterday when I was missing everybody so much, the lady from my team who was supposed to work along with me decides to take a leave so that she doesn’t have to get bored with me. That one line “Tomorrow Arabica will be leading the CHC team” (Read tomorrow Arabica will be sitting in the office all alone) hit me in the gut. I was nicely arm-twisted into coming on a Saturday with nobody around. If today’s not the perfect day to miss the long conversations over endless coffees, dinners, lunches, those funny anecdotes we used to share, the bad movies we used to watch just because we had nothing better to do on a Sunday morning, the early-bird movie shows we used to catch at ungodly hours of 8am just because we were so damn broke, I don’t know what is. So here I am I sit typing this post on a lonely lonely Saturday morning, the weather reminiscent of Pune’s lovely rainy season, reliving those fond memories I thought I had left behind in Pune once again…

Of Honey Coated Voices...

Ok, so I've been reading quite a lot on Amy Winehouse, and today curiousity killed my cat. I was expecting some more hippity hoppity stuff from a newcomer. Being a person who doesn't find anything to hip or hop about hiphop, not that there's no talent involved. It just doesn't get me grooving. And this time, boy was I in for a shock. I went to my current favourite music site ijigg. The moment I hit the play button, I was transported to a different place. The room around me just dissolved as her voice lulled me into a gentle stupor. Her voice is like the blast from past where voices conjured images of smoky clubs, belles in clingy black dress with plunging necklines, an old man in a tux hunched over a piano belting out sweet melodies and powerful whisky and honey-coated voices tantalising your senses as you unwind. The lyrics are playful, naughty and above all hummable. But don't take my word for it. Check her out. It's a pleasure to the senses.

Here's one of my favourite songs:

My Music - You Know I'm No Good

Here's more on Amy Winehouse

Anyone else But YOU...

So this is the song which concluded the movie Juno. Loved the innocence in the lyrics, strangely very poignant. If you have heard this song, you will have either been converted to a believer, may have made you smile and nod in rememberence of your loved one or crave for a soulmate exactly like this...I highly recommend the movie and the song to whoever hasn't seen or heard it. You will love the movie if you are sucker for smart humour.


Anyone Else But You Lyrics

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Here I go again...

Hmmmmm.....So, yet another meaningless day passes by. Was up till late last night punching numbers for my latest report. A mind numbing experience, and the figures just ran into columns which ran into pages till my eyes literally started to cross and a gentle haze settled over my mind. The consequence? The next day, my brain completely shut down refusing to process anything leaving me all edgy, nervous, just waiting for a chance to dig my knife in someone's chest. I used to have a solution for stuff like this earlier. Blogging was one therapeutic experience, where I used to channelise all my nervous energy into my writings. As soon as my fingers used to hit the keyboard, the words just poured. By the end of the post, I used to be calm and had an amazing article ready to be posted. But, that requires certain kind of conditioning, certain kind of discipline, a level of comfort, to pour out your heart to something so disinterested. Difficult to redevelop, especially when you have someone whom you know will give you their complete attention, if you go to them instead of the blog. Hence the reluctantance to come back to my blog, testified by a long gap between my previous post and this one. But, come on, nobody should have to take this kind of "dumping" their entire lives. Anyway, I don't think its a very good idea to let your partner know you have the case of "crazies" before marriage too often. :-D. I should be able to tackle your emotional upheavels and burn-outs myself once in a while. That's what being independent is all about right? And blogging had such a positive outcome last time. I totally bowled over my soulmate with my earlier blog. So, bottom line, I am gonna give this one more chance...Last time I connected to my life partner through blogging...Another story, another time perhaps...Lets see where I land this time...;-)

A lesson to learn

When in 1998 Hotmail came up with the new revolutionary new form of anonymous emailing, it just changed the way the entire way the worl communicated. With the internet boom, the email inevitably overtook the slower, less efficient form of mailing, it even came to be dubbed as snail-mail! Slowly, yahoo, rediff and million others came to the scene, and it was not unusual for one person to have more than 2 email addresses. The next phase of email revolution was started with gmail, which started offering 'unlimited space' and soon integrated the concept of instant messaging with the e-mail. There was nothing to stop the mammoth which had already been set loose. "Don't save any of your any old mails" stared down at u in BIG BOLD LETTERS whenever you opened you umpteen e-mail accounts. So u get unlimited space, instant messaging, autosaving of drafts, and obviously the ease and convenience of e-mail at your desktop. Cool, right?

I beg to differ. Its not at all COOL, when your account has just been hacked and all your emails and contacts have just been deleted. At times like these you start to wonder wouldn't it have been nice if you had maintained all your contacts in a nice, tidy little phonebook. You re-consider whether it would have been better for your own sanity if you had deleted some of your personal e-mails. All the lucrative advertising gimmicks come back to haunt you... Why me, why me of all the people.

The enormity of the situation keeps hitting you like waves of tsunami on the beach of your sanity, threatening to cause unprecedented devestation.

The author of this blog was last seen pulling her hair and feverishly working to try to retrieve her lost data...

Cosmic rules and stuff

“When you have the will and determination to achieve something, the entire universe conspires to help you achieve it”
Chinese Proverb

I’ve always found Chinese a fascinating race. I mean, look at them. These guys have some 3000 years of civilization behind them and have some really amazing art forms (ever seen Tai Chi being practiced?) which guarantee to be transcendental experiences, all in all. The Chinese kids are as cute as button, and have really cool names, that leave most of us normal souls boggled(dropping babies et al..sic..). Their script resembles something I would have drawn when I was 5. Damn, I should have learnt Chinese, I would have had people quoting me and read it out from their fortune cookies!!! Anyway, I digress. While it’s been established that I love Chinese, and their culture, I do have a grouse against this particular proverb. Maybe the guy was zonked when he doled out this little piece of advice, or maybe he was being plain sarcastic. We’ll never know. In my experience, this NEVER works that way. Picture this;

1 month away from the dreaded placements:

Sitting in coffee-shop(where else?), coffee beans realizes, that maybe she didn’t put in as much effort in her studies as she should have been these 1 year or so. So, coffee beans all charged up with this new ‘enlightenment’ of sorts, decides to set a regimented routine to put in few hours of solid course-work everyday. Coffee beans goes about it methodically. Gets the notes, the books, and the references in order.

19:00 hours that evening:

Coffee beans flips open her laptop to read about the US subprime markes, and the lappie beeps. Coffee beans gets out the charger from the bag and as she heads close to the plug-point. The light goes off. The watchman informs that the transformer blew up, and electricity won’t be back until morning. Oh well, shrugs coffee beans and hits the sack.

10:00 am next morning:

The lights are back…Mercifully. Coffee beans flips open the the laptop, and this time, with the charger in place. Booting..booting..booting….login. And we’r ready to go. Hmmmm...Aha…The much maligned Asset Backed Securities. Suddenly, an unfamiliar sound creeps up in the room. And it’s getting louder. Someone laughing. Coffee beans's eyes widen in realization. A small voice rings in coffee bean’s head; “Oh, no. The screaming banshees, err… thy roommates are back after a vacation of 20 days.” Coffee beans philosophically closes the laptop bids peace and quiet adieu, gets up and walks to the door with a resigned smile.


10:00 am next– to-next morning:

New day beginneth. Round 3. The referee blows the whistle and GO! Coffee beans rushes to her laptop, opens it up, urging it to boot faster with impatient eyes. An unfamiliar message pops up on the screen on login. Forehead wrinkled with irritation, coffee beans, clicks on OK. Suddenly, the screen goes blank. “What the…Hmmm” Massaging her forehead, coffee beans looks in dismay as her entire system crashes.
At night, holding on tightly a coffee mug(what else?? Haven’t u got a clue till now?) in both her hands, like a lifeline, coffee beans stands on the terrace and stares at the star-studded sky and wonders about how it all began? Sipping her coffee as if it’s an elixir and might provide her with new lease of life… Was she wrong in setting herself such ‘high’ goals? Was it too gullible of her to hope that all her stuff will work perfectly at the same precise moment?? Or maybe she’s too stuck up… Meanwhile, the pole star winks at coffee beans as she sighs and shrugs…
"I’l not think about it now, tomorrow is yet another day"

Back to the future

Circa 2003:
Once upon a time, baby coffee beans used to blog with a passion. People from far and near kingdoms all came and poured adulations. Well, not adulations exactly, but a cloe-knit group of friends was formed, which comprised of people of all shapes and sizes, and we had a blast. But, as is with all happy things, this too came to an end. Through a series of incidents, coffee beans realised that the virtual world has slowly masked the real world, and threatening to convert coffee beans into a self proclaimed geekoid. (a term which is a product of coffee beans's twisted mind). Saddened by this realisation, coffee beans bid adiue to the virtual world and slowly drifted apart which incidently was her namesake! Instead, coffee beans decided to delve into the big bad world of reality, and face her demons head on. Of course, this was meant as a short break, a haitus, an incubation period... a Sabbatical...

What a laugh! Just like LIFE itself, coffee beans got herself busy with other things and forgot what used to be a wonderland. With each coming day, coffee beans strove to drive herself harder, and faster to keep pace. Coffee beans travelled far and wide and attempted to gain the ephemeral worldy wisdom. The sad but inescapable fate met with her too... She became a part of the rat - race. With no escape chute. Pressed against the glass walls of the cage she had built herself, she searched and searched and begged and begged for mercy. For the mill to stop, to let her get off it, even for a short time. Oh no, coffee beans was not miserable. Far from it. She had a comfortable life, lots of love and affection, lots of people to hang on to her each word. But, yet something was missing. It was as some inexplicable element, some unnamed part of her was missing, and she was fast losing touch.

And then, something runs past coffee beans's eyes on yet another tiresome day....

A blog...by this someone...made coffee beans laugh till she wept. Then, another one...and another one....

Coffee beans stares at the cieling and asks heself " was this is it?" The flush of blogging , the euphoria that fills you each time you sit in front of the keyboard and words just come pouring out, and leaves you with a strangely purged feeling???

People have different reasons to blog, some to keep in touch, some to fulfill their childhood fantasy of becoming a writer, whatever it is, I am sure it works for them. And its here to stay, might even replace the conventional journalism, what with the blogdom bursting at its seams, and bloggers pouring into the conventional space. Guess there's only one thing to do now...

Yeah, you guessed it right.

Join the revolution