All in my head

Rediscovery and blah!

2011-04-13T21:16:00.000+05:30

I feel like Columbus and all, god! So yeah, I've been so caught up being up to no good at work and home and weekends equally. Something that's new is my love for all things old. Old fetishes are coming back to me and everything.

Metal. God! And the color black. My old loud laugh that aaaaverybody loved and liked. Wish I could say that I got my old memory back too, to replace my new 128-MB-RAM-like one but you can't get everything in life (life is supposed to suck and all that FYI).

Did I mention I like using FYIs and BTWs and FYAs and work the whole abbreviation thaangg. Sometimes I'd like to dazzle everyone with my short-forming skills.

I feel friendly and nice and shiny even though I had the worst possible cold the entire week and the most boring of stuff to code AND the stupidest of arguments at home.

I am now the proud wearer of a green nail color and I plan to keep my cube guessing on what I'll wear next.

How can a post on rediscovery be complete without a mention of "Comfortably Numb". I swear! On a loop of around ten times a day it just keeps getting better and better. A wave of utmost indifference and feeling tingly occurs interchangeably and I never EVER get tired of that.

Sometimes, I am scared about how moody I get sometimes. Only consolation being, others are too.

Where have all the boys gone?

2011-03-02T12:14:00.002+05:30

....it struck me when I saw an old face from school out of the blue. Sure I've met some incredible men the past year, but seriously where have all the shorts-wearing, scabby-kneed boys all disappeared to all of a sudden? Where are all those boys who used to make me go all weak when I looked at them? Those boys who I used to get impressed by how smart and intelligent they could sound. Those that gave me the cold, hard truth whenever I went to them with a problem. The boys who would walk with their mothers on a pleasant Saturday evening by the beach with not a care in the world. The ones with their cycles on street corners. The boy who had the most amazing hair ;) and who was my longest-standing crush till date. My constant companions online. The boys who set out to teach me how test cricket works, feigning deafness when I said I don't give a damn and probably wouldn't get it anyway. The cousin with such great taste who I was surprised to find out liked The Beatles, Queen and such like. The rock stars who got me into metal and finally out. The soul mate who made me appreciate love and life knowing full well I would have something to crib about no matter how much he made me see the rosy side of things. The one badass I would always hate. The geeks who I admired nonetheless for their intellect. I know where they're at. But when I turn around now all I see is men, opening doors for me or pulling out chairs for me. I don't want them. I don't want any heroes. No studs. I want the boys back. The ones that made me laugh till it hurt and had me wonder how on earth anyone could find cricket or politics even remotely interesting.

Letting bygones be bygones...

2011-01-05T10:37:00.000+05:30

Since everyone is writing about what 2010 had been like, not wanting to be left behind here's mine. The last year has one roller coaster ride for me. Met a bunch of decent people and more than my share of fake ones. Got run over by some. Was left wondering how people could say things they did and get away with it, and how especially me could take it lying down. Came to know that nobody really gives a damn. The inherent goodness I believed was there in everyone did not seem to be there at all. Lost a few people I thought I would never. Irony being that they have no idea. Learnt how important family is. How at the end of the day friends at the other side of the globe or even at an arm's length will eventually fade out from the pictures on your phone and merely remain memories.
Local calls became long distance. Texts became emails. Chat conversations vanished altogether. Life became different, as though I was living someone else's. Money didn't matter anymore. Longed for the lack of it as opposed to the year before. Heavy wallets were coupled with heavy hearts. Questioned whatever I stood for. Started pretending, settled for average, mastered a fake laugh. Developed new hobbies. Learnt how to talk smart. Ate more than my usual share of birthday cakes. Tried and failed miserably in the process of making friends. Carefully replaced 'friends' with 'colleagues' in my vocabulary for the newbies.
Used the phone mostly to make calls. Bought things I didn't need and did not feel guilty. Developed better taste. Broke some shackles. Made a lot of noise. That was my 2010.

Rush hour madness

2010-10-21T10:06:00.001+05:30

It was a sunny morning today. And humid right from the time I woke up which was late too. And humid weather means that every single (otherwise normal) thing I come across annoys me. So I made a mental list of the mundane, pointless things I saw. For a good laugh and nothing else here it is:
Now we know that the number of cars on our roads have exploded of late. And with it something that irritates me to no end. There is this plastic whatever-you-call-it for cars' dashboard that's a miniature flower vase thing with a big, bright flower sticking out and as though to make it real two leaves on either side that keep bobbing up and down as the car moves on. You might be thinking what do I have against this harmless toy. I'll tell you what. Call it coincidence but I saw it in every other car this morning. I see a car and what do I see on the dashboard? This flower vase with its "real" leaves swaying merrily. Another car, two of them! Another one different colors this time. If we planted trees at the rate we buy these tacky, plastic things our city would be much greener.
Another thing is with the girls who nearly blindfold themselves with the excuse of escaping the tan and pollution. I can't hear properly for one thing, and their muffled sound when they ask me something does not help much either. Today being my grouchy day it got on my nerves just more.
Puddles are no wonder in our city even many days after the downpour. Add to that list senseless pedestrians too. There are two types that annoy me. One is the incessant text-er with his/her stereotypical characteristics such as headphones in ear, blank expression on face and the occasional reply 'ama' and 'illa' (Tamil for 'yes' and 'no') and the ubergiggly college girls who walk only like a human chain on priniciple. Both these types chose only to walk ahead of me and as slowly as possible where there was no way I could get past them. You can't tell them to move nor can you get ahead. And that was my irritant #3 for today.
I cross all these hurdles, climb up and down the non-uniform footpaths, dodge vehicles coming out from the petrol pumps only to reach office thoroughly exhausted. Only consolation? Eight hours ahead to recharge. Go figure!

While I was busy 'working'...

2010-09-20T14:44:00.003+05:30

Many people now ask me why I don't talk as much as I used to. Why I don't get out more often, why I don't laugh as easily and play around like I used to. I shrug it off saying, 'I just grew up, that's all'. But when I get asked these questions every so often I am really at a loss for words. I can't remember the last time when I spoke passionately about something that I stood for. This is by no means another post out of the 'Great Depression' (an inside joke this one) but on one aspect that I have seen many people go through at this transitive phase of life: as we move from college to the ugly corporate.
My day has twenty four hours like anyone else's. Morning hours are spent frantically getting ready for the day. Tempers rise, tensions build. Somehow dodging the peak hour traffic I reach work. While at work I tend to feel so consumed that I just want those mandatory 9 hours to be done with as quickly as possible. And then I drag myself home later in the evening only to find that the remaining three or four hours pass by in a haze of tiredness. The next day dawns, pretty much like the day before and I start running. What, in between all this, can you do that you used to love? Like a hobby or an interest? NADA.
I'm scared sometimes. Scared that the effervescence and the cheerfulness that were once my strong points are fast disappearing. That I'd become one of those workaholics to whom work is everything. Jealous even, of those people who make it seem like it's a walk in the park and still manage to get so much done. I am no good at balancing things and would just like to go with the flow although I get creeped out when I am outside of my comfort zone. I never saw this coming when I got my offer two years back. It felt like the promised land. But now, not so much.

My rainy day

2010-08-22T11:44:00.001+05:30

When life forces you to recede into a shell.

When no one ever needs your company anymore.

When only a void occupies every corner of your mind.

When only virtual is real and anything real is only virtual.

When new bonds last only for a fleeting second.

You see it is raining outside but it rains only on you.

That's my rainy day.

Birthday?

2010-08-17T18:32:00.001+05:30

I have always wanted to ask people what their reason was to celebrate birthdays. 'Celebrate' is too strong a word for me. I for one do not see the point in it and feel too pompous when I get the idea. Until I was ten or so the whole color-dress-wearing-sweet-distributing routine I followed was purely out of habit. I saw others do it and then followed suit thinking that's what people did on birthdays. After that followed a little confusion to do or not to while still in school. A bit later came the noisy college days when it was a necessity that I did...no wait 'they' did. And those four birthdays were the only ones that I saw some meaning in. Here were these people obviously delighted that I was here and with them and that's all that mattered. Birthdays have some depth when others are glad you are part of their lives and hence make you feel blessed and happy and content. Last year's birthday reminded me of how much I was going to miss those people who had continually been making it so special. And this year's I don't even want to think of. From not being able to see the point in doing birthdays to when I actually saw some sense in it and then back to square one, life has come full circle.

Cease and desist

2010-08-14T23:41:00.001+05:30

I'm back after a long break here, I know. Wish I could say I was busy being awesome like it reads on those quirky t shirts. I've been busy with work, with life. Actually add thinking to that list too. Non-stop at that. I've been thinking such random thoughts that I decided to blog it. And since anything random from my life fits in perfectly in this space, here it is. I used to get this comment from amma that when I was little (say three years old) I would pause for brief periods and stare into space lost in deep thought. She used to compare me to my paati who is one of the most overly thinking persons in my family. Maybe it is hereditary, come to think of it. Oh well. We are not looking at how it came to be anyway.
On what I think, it is purely random. From how I used to walk back home after the school bus drops me with that Frooti (the old green carton one mind you) in hand and noisy exchange with periappa all the way home to how I first learnt to take the bus back from tuition in Adyar. Another one I am amazed at myself that I still remember dates way back to when I was as little as five or six. I remember as if it were yesterday that I was reading my English textbook, a poem from it to be exact. Appa came back home from work and checked on me. I complained that my study desk was too wobbly and he said he would fix it that Sunday. When I told him this today he thought I was going senile at 22.
See thinkers never got taken seriously and never went down well with society. It is a curse I think. Also worth mentioning is my habit of saying 'Oh wait I think I have seen that one before' and explaining to my weirded-out friends how and from where I did. I'd also throw in some extra information like 'That kid used to go in my bus man, I've known him since we were in sixth'. After this would invariably follow the customary 'How do you remember all this [add a :o smiley in case it's a text message]' from them.
I think I have a problem. I remember, recollect and ruminate too much. I should learn to stop and thereby cease to freak people out. I amaze myself sometimes at how much I can reminisce intricate details of many not so epic moments of my life. For example the look and feel of a particular skirt I had. I can say confidently that it was from some place called Cover Up and it was red with black polka dots and what drew me to choosing it was a nice little matching purse that came with the outfit. I can clearly recollect also that it was raining that day and appa was worried how we'd get back home from Pondy Bazaar.
And the rumination part is equally wondrous. My imagination works overtime most of the time. I would've excelled at some course in creative writing had I done one. A good part of the time before I fall asleep is fully dedicated to this daily exercise. I am amazed my brain can take so much without shutting down really. Did I mention I can never forget a face? A name maybe but if I've seen someone before for a brief period chances are I may never forget that I did. At least not for a long time to come.
All that I recollect may not appeal to anyone save a few. The things I remember and recount can't be backed with proof that they are indeed real. But I know they are and that's all that matters. Maybe I am just so fond of life itself that every memory gets etched deeply and surely in my mind. Sometimes I want it to stop, sometimes to turn back time to relive some moments. But they are what they are, just memories. Random thought: You know elephants? They NEVER forget! Maybe I......here I go again.

Ode on a mouse wheel

2010-07-22T18:27:00.001+05:30

My trusted partner in boredom and productivity alike, oh mouse wheel what would I do without you! You get too less credit for the ginormous amount of work you do. You remain obscure and under appreciated. Everyone who is anyone today should write poems about you, give you thanks for your great deeds. For, without you it is impossible to tackle boredom in employ and leisure alike. You are always there for me no matter what. All those long boring documents that I had to go through, you made it all so seamless and smooth for me.
Your true crowning glory however is that ability of yours to double up as a pretend-work contraption. Just when I am doing something I like at work and someone is checking on me in the background, it is you who I turn to, to pull of my act of 'actually working'. You make me seem much more productive than I usually am. You complete me mouse wheel, the doing-something-else-at-work me.
Another place you haven't ever let me down yet are during my long winded phone conversations where I quite frankly would like to be some place else. You take my mind away from it all and give me new direction. I could spin you and I'd be transported to a different place altogether where I can pretend to care about things I don't actually while scrolling away to glory in reality.
Oh mouse wheel! I cannot but be eternally indebted for all that wonderful work you do for me. How people who came before you, without such a gift such as your presence in their lives manage I ask myself!

Note: This post may strike a chord with people such as myself who are habitual mouse scrollers who scroll llike there's no tomorrow. Others like appa please, you might not appreciate.

Reminders

2010-07-19T17:33:00.002+05:30

It all started with a grocery shopping trip and when I realized that I was suddenly a lot older than I felt. It wasn't an awakening of any sort because I'm rather rudely reminded of it every morning (Work. In case you're wondering still)

There were those moments which made me stop and smile and say some things never change. When I realize I'm making money and [over]spending with much glee, realize I'm short by some. Who do I turn to? The people who have been funding my whims and fancies for over 21 years now. [Tongue outside smiley goes here]
When appa tells me to sign someplace I feel all grown up but when he tells me to go to bed because it's late I feel like I'm ten again. If someone asks me what I do, the impulsive answer is to say I'm in college but then the actual answer is in fact that I'm working. [Confused smiley goes here]
My friend says she's probably going to end up married this time next year. Thought she'd tell me first of all people too, how sweet but that's when I realize I haven't got much time myself to get hitched and be more grown up and go on shopping trips for doormats. [Straight-faced smiley goes here]
I find six bucks in appa's pocket while folding the laundry. That is when I realize you could have all the money in the world, but nothing can replace spending and saying "My dad gave me" . [Smiling smiley goes here]
The auto stops outside Anna university and a family of four are standing outside taking their picture by the fountain. I smile at the girl who is apparently the soon-to-be-engineer. She smiles back because she understands. I was at the same place five years ago with my folks contemplating life's challenges. Made the best of friends over the next four years. Got reminded of each scene of stupidity with them over the year after that. And stare at a text message from a closest bud and look at the picture of us in lab coats. I am reminded of how God blesses us with such wonderful company sometimes. [Died-off smiley* goes here]

*Died-off smiley: ==|--|-0~ This smiley dates back to 2006ish times wherein a substitute of "Hai mein mar jaawa" was required badly for the non-Punjabis of the gang to understand. This shall not be used without giving due credits to its creator Ms.Hanspal who loves Chennai like she does its food and people :)

Thank you, mummy.

2010-07-14T20:45:00.007+05:30

Chennai seems to have forgotten what weather to showcase in recent times and has upset many hard core Chennai-lovers like myself by having rainy spells as early as June itself. Bring on the heat Chennai, what's with you? Yesterday's rains (with the lightning effect which vaguely reminded me about the climax of arbit Tamil padams) made me reminisce my good ol' St.John's days: of going to school on rainy days.
I used to come across as a miss-goody-two-shoes kind of kid who wouldn't put one toe out of line while in school. Note that we are talking about my school days and any questions about college will not be entertained. Not digressing from the present topic of discussion, it was a compulsion to me always to be prim and proper and never a defaulter of any sort. A habit that is plaguing my work life as my many friends would now know. From my neatly tied pony tail right down to my shiny polished shoes (courtesy appa) everything had to be perfect and in place.
So rainy days meant that a raincoat was a must, or an umbrella. Since my dear amma has always had this vision (and still does) of me hurting some kid or much worse poking myself in the eye while opening the umbrella, she always gave me my safe, non hazardous pink raincoat. Neatly folded and tucked in my bag it sat there through all of the rainy weather days.
Apparently once my friend and I got stuck in the rain while coming home from school. She didn't have a raincoat but I did. And that gave me a great big ego boost. See I was little then and didn't know any better, so you mustn't judge me. After coming home high and dry from school I'd written a note to amma saying "Thank you mummy for giving me raincoat. I love you". And it sounds really sweet coming from an eight-year-old but more funnier now that I'm 21. So it has now become an inside joke at home and whenever someone does something nice for the other we say in that mock-child voice my amma makes to imitate the younger soms: "Thank you, mummy". I kid you not when I say they must have got the inspiration for the Kurkure-whatte-family ad from us. Now that's saying something!

Relapse.

2010-07-12T14:26:00.004+05:30

No matter how resolute you think you may be there is always a tipping point. There's always an unexpected rollback. What you fought so hard to ward off sometimes just keeps coming back. Relapse after rehab. Some would call it a state of mind, tell you to get out of it as if it were that simple. A lull in the usually normal state of affairs irrespective of incentives or happy endings. Being safely stuck in a routine yet that lurking shadow of past ghosts still haunts and scares you. It becomes hard to cling desperately on to some form of solace when you feel that you're slipping off the edge and hanging by a thread. Will things ever be normal again? I'm scared to even answer it myself. Because normalcy at most times seems missing. Paranoid thoughts. Melodies don't sound sweet anymore. Lethargy is what manifests in any action. How long? I'm getting tired of all this. I wish it were easier to take the Floyd way out and "....become Comfortably Numb"

This one or that?

2010-07-07T14:20:00.003+05:30

Dialling dilemma was the title I wanted to keep. But then it sounds very filmy and tacky doesn't it? Typical soms-like some people would think. Yet this very habit of my being highly-opinionated has landed me in a dilemma: choosing a phone to buy. So very rationally I decide on the features I want ('cause there are many) and the makes I don't want (again 'cause there are many) and all such details. And after this followed much deliberation from me, my friends...and even a guy who sat next to me on the bus.
So my first criteria for choosing a phone was that it shouldn't be mainstream. Not one-of-a-kind no. But everyone shouldn't be carrying it. For example: My purple-iPod-fantasy. Everone carries an iPod these days, black or white mostly. Pink is too girly. Green is too yuck. Yellow is ok. But purple is chic. So if I ever buy one it's going to be purple. Now do you see the point? I always carry that unique streak and so do my gadgets. That's a major contributor to the phone-choosing dilemma.
Next ruling out criterion I had was that type-cast you do with certain models. Like how guys are always carrying big sturdy phones. And the ladies always carry colorful slim and shiny phones (some even check their reflections on it geez). And how teenagers are always clicking pictures and texting non-stop on those HORRIBLY popular side-waali sliding phones. I have a long list of other type-casts which i'm leaving out so that this post doesn't lose its talking point. When I put this point across, my friends had already decided they were fighting a losing battle.
I've been at this for one week already and haven't yet decided which one yet but i'm learning lots in the process: about how something you own reflects your personality. Next time when there's a chance to observe people and their cell phones, please do. You'll know what i'm talking about. As for me i'm going back to my 'informed decision making'. *laugh-out-loud*

Being an extra

2010-06-28T15:26:00.002+05:30

"Hi. My name is Sowmya. I'm looking to make it big (yeah right). I'm smart, intelligent (blah...blah). I am very hard working and punctual and honest (which just does not matter). I like being around people and talking about things....intelligent things: like the Gulf oil-spill, or the FIFA WC, the new Rupee symbol (peter alert). I like writing (who cares!), movies (nope still don't care) and listening to music (the kind most wouldn't have heard of anytime I'm sure). I like learning new things love technology (trust us that will change)". Yeah it is a sad state of affairs indeed, welcome to my life.

Note: This post is inspired by a certain observation someone drew on me lately when commenting on my current situation of being 'left alone'. He said that, "Look what's happening to you is that you've gone from being a 'heroine' to being an extra". The comparison he used was so interesting that I decided to blog it. The stuff inside the many brackets here are the derisive thoughts and smirks of people I face in general.

Forced goodbyes

2010-06-23T14:30:00.007+05:30

This post is very close to my heart and I'm probably writing this to let off some steam which I'm finding hard to do these days. I hate goodbyes. Always have, always will. Farewells are always associated with change and that's one thing I'm afraid of. Dealing with change hasn't ever been one of my strong points. The insecurity that is associated with change often scares me, hence this post. After college the few months at home were fine. But now that I have something new to do with life (change #1) and all of my friends do too (change #2) and also because they've moved away from home and away from me (change #3) that sense of being lost in the middle of nowhere feeling has become an everyday thing.
From being a person who could be called the ice-princess who wouldn't let anyone in on her emotions, I've gradually turned into a human hosepipe. With every goodbye comes heartache. With every moving phase comes a (now, familiar) lump in the throat. Associated with every moving-away-for-work friend comes that feeling of emptiness in the heart: when will I ever see you again?
I'm being assured everyday that everything will turn out alright but when? I wish I were that phoenix from Harry Potter that could turn its sorrow into beautiful song. But then again, I'm only human aren't I?

Choice

2010-06-15T11:42:00.005+05:30

Choices may mean a lot of things to a lot of different people. To some it may be good (ever heard of the phrase 'spoilt for choice'?). To some, bad. Some are easy to pick, some are elusive. There are several choices you are tempted to pick, knowing full well they would do you no good. Certain choices are very obvious and some test your resolve. There are always some that you are obliged to pick to please someone and some you're forced into. Even some that you are duty-bound to pick and choices you can make out of your own free-will. And still sometimes you have none at all. It is quite amazing how something so abstract can impact your life so much and the lives of those around you.
These past few weeks have been a real eye-opener for me. I've come to know that there is no right or wrong choice. A good decision is made by just picking one and is judged on whether it is good or not based on the outcome. Hence, taking a chance becomes necessary from time to time. And for those of us who are scared to take the path less travelled by there is no easy way out but to buck up and make a decision. With time as my teacher, i've also learnt that I'm accountable for all the choices I make. Whether it is rewarding or demands unreasonable effort or just plain stupid. And also people around me, what happens to them also becomes my responsibility.
There is always an uncertainty associated with making choices. That feeling of insecurity: what if everything backfires? Having many choices is one thing. But having none is even worse, imagine having to take what you get and not complain. Sometimes it just doesn't make sense planning everything out meticulously. Whatever is meant to happen will happen finally. Fate is then blamed for having made us do it. Isn't life ironic? I recently read a quote that I think would be worth mentioning here: "Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forward". And yes, I was in the process of making a choice and I've made a decision. Now all I have to do is wait.

Claustrophobic tendencies

2010-06-08T21:46:00.003+05:30

Anxious and uncertain about everything how can a person feel at peace any time of the day? There are no fixed plans and nothing is ever constant. When negativity is all the ensues, what have you to look forward to? Motivation seems irrelevant as the mind's eye stares into a feeling of nothingness. Unworthy of even enjoying a warm day's breeze, can a mind take any more? To constantly deal with something changing, something vague? Controlled. Restrained. Of promises kept and forgotten. Of bonds that seem irrelevant. When will the shackles come off?

Punk'd by life

2010-06-04T10:58:00.004+05:30

First day on the real job. Really nervous and all. I go sit in a corner designated to me. It has been almost five days now and it has been a rollercoaster for me. The feelings I am feeling are insecurity, smallness, insignificance and loneliness. But everyone has to start somewhere I understand. And so I drag myself to work thinking what each day would bring with it. What heart stoppers, what challenges and hurdles. I've wanted to give up a lot of times these past three months. But that fighting spirit I have keeps bringing me back. I hope it does too, more often than ever these days. Because life told me clearly, "You're on your own mate from here on forth". It is going to be hard and no cakewalk like i've had it so far. I can either sit and cry and face it or I can boldly say 'Bring it on!'. Eitherways i've got punk'd and I should've seen it comin'!

M5

2010-03-22T20:34:00.012+05:30

Not another post about college, no. Just a random thought in retrospect. First of all i'd like to clarify that i'm no big cleanliness snob when it comes to using the MTC buses. So you mustn't think i'm trying to defame the MTC: undoubtedly the crowning glory of Chennai city. In fact I owe them a lot. If it weren't for a certain special bus we would've been stuck in college from 9 to 4 all through our four years. Dreadful thought indeed. Note that we weren't too chuffed about the buses that actually took us to college, we had our college buses to do that and they weren't nearly as much fun or free-spirited as our M5.

The lineage of M5 deserves a special mention here. The first picture I remember of it is the rickety, green, old bus ready to fall apart anytime we hit a bump on the road. Around a year later came a yellow one if I remember correctly. And after two came the shiny new deluxe buses which were relatively cleaner and looked a LOT more safer to ride in. So M5 in all its glory, our special bus. Stood by us through thick and thin(and sun and rain and dust and cows) .

Now that brings us to the crux of the matter, the irony that happened this morning. As I was running late for work I had to compromise on the clean, easy way of getting to work. I was desperately searching for any bus that was leaving the depot. As fate would have it a green one was leaving and I had no choice but to get on it. So I do. I sit by the window with my earphones on, like always. I buy a ticket and sit back and relax. Bob Dylan's singing, couldn't be a more perfect Monday morning. As we pass the Adyar signal guess who we meet on the way? Why our famous M5! And get this: here's me sittin' in the old, dusty bus, smelling like cigarettes and M5 well she's as fine as ever! Shiny white and on her way to where I came from. And the time couldn't be better for Dylan to say 'Times they are a-changin'

Note: M5 operates from Kelambakkam and goes on up to Adyar. This is for the uninitiated: http://busroutes.in/chennai/route/M5/

The Impending Paradigm Shift

2010-02-15T14:45:00.006+05:30

After around eight and a bit more months the time has finally come. In a couple of days' time I take up my first real job. I'm excited as hell and everything, like I keep saying to myself a few hundred times a day "I'm totally psyched". The restful, lazy schedule of watching movies back to back, eating[and sleeping] beside the computer, talking on the phone for hours on end and texting till my thumbs go numb are going to have to be a thing of the past. Oh and talking about phones, I might buy a new one. The impulsive shopper is about to crank it up a notch. On a serious note though people look at me a tad differently now. When I was fresh out of college with nothing to do and someone asked me what I did they usually followed it up with a you're-upto-no-good look. Now that the situation is different they ask either "Oh where is your office exactly?" or "So how much are they paying you?". I'd like very much to give them a piece of my mind. Something along the lines of: "What's it to you? It's not like you're going to drive me there or pay my bills I fall short by some".
For all the kindred souls that are facing the unemployment predicament I was in before, your time will come soon and then we can all say a big "in-your-face" to all those nosy people. Now then, if you'll excuse me I better get up and start running like Forrest Gump :D Cheers!

At Home

2009-06-01T12:54:00.009+05:30

If there is one thing I’m passionate about and always will be, it HAS to be Chennai: my home. Born and raised in Chennai I’ve have grown to believe, like many others that Chennai is my Shangri La. With a big heart and open arms it has welcomed people from far and wide with its unassuming nature. Chennai strikes a fine balance between old and new, being modern and old-school at the same time.
I absolutely love being a Chennaiite. I enjoy that sense of belonging I feel when I come back home after a vacation, when I realize how much I’ve missed those trademark yellow autorickshaws, the colorful shop signs, the balmy breeze, even the serpentine line of vehicles lined up in traffic signals. When you’ve been out of Chennai for even a week and return, even the loud women haggling with the vegetable vendors, or with the auto-kaaran over the ridiculously high fares they charge seems comical. That fondness I feel could only be felt if you share that passion of Chennai being your home rather than just another city you’ve lived in.
One thing I’ve noticed about Chennai is the amount of enthusiasm and fervor with which festivals of all religions are celebrated. This is true of the whole of our country and since we’re on the topic of Chennai I limit myself to its geography. I remember when Christmas approached my friends and I sang carols at school, hung out stockings and waited with bated breath till the next morning to see what Santa’s give us. I don’t know how may of us have noticed the sounds associated with the impending Diwali day. The kids run out to buy those toy pistols and compare whose were the loudest and the most stylish and all those little things kids got excited about. The 1000-wala going off that night on the street’s end halted traffic for a good five minutes. Or on Pongal when cows on the streets bore unmistakable signs of being scrubbed clean and their horns painted and given pongal and bananas when they would’ve happily traded in for some fresh leaves (or the favorite of modern-day cows: wall posters) instead.
The languages that people speak in our city are worth a mention too. The shopkeepers and street vendors are very good at speaking broken Hindi or English, some even Malayalam or Telugu: one of the reasons why Chennai never ceases to amaze me. One Tamil word that has to be in the vocabulary with people from out of town who’ve made Chennai their home is: ‘anna’ (the Hindi equivalent being bhaiyya) I’m always amused and a little proud to hear this very often. ‘Anna rice one kg’ or ‘How much for this anna?’ Talk about being polite!
Bullock carts are a thing of the past in Chennai and if you still think they ply on roads then wake up already! Behold it is the age of the shiny new MTC buses: gold, blue, orange and white. Most people still like to call them with the old name: PTC, rather than with the new name which would be MTC but who cares! It is quite an adventure to travel in Chennai’s buses and it is not for the faint-hearted. It takes a combination of athletic skills like running, jumping etc especially required for chasing the bus and getting on and off it. A little sense of direction goes a long way in understanding the routes, the places the buses go through are very clearly listed in Tamil and English and the very agile conductors are always of assistance, although they might scream and lose their temper if you don’t have the sense to bring along change (yikes!) A regular patron of the MTC, I’m enthralled each day as to how you could tell a fellow passenger next to you where you want to go and give them the money and watch as the tickets magically find its way back to you passing through the hands of stuffy, peak-hour commuters.
Not forgetting the local cuisine here in our city, the typical South Indian food: idli, vada, pongal have bowled over people from far and wide. Chennai is a food lover’s paradise. The high you get when a waft of intoxicating aroma hits you from the shop that sells filter kaapi is mind blowing as I know most of my fellow Chennaiites would agree. A popular hangout in our city would be the beaches which are the city’s crowning glory. And a trip to the beach is never complete unless you’ve had the famous molaga bajji or the pattani sundal. The tea kadai is a common hang out for many and ten heads poring over a page of a Tamil paper, sipping the sugary sweet liquid is very common sight in our city. These kadais harbor debates that form a wide spectrum: ranging from the results of the recent elections, to the latest buzz in Kollywood and almost inevitably how hot the weather is getting ‘Veyil thaanga mudiyala pa’ (I can’t bear this heat)
There are things that upset me however the way Chennai is being perceived by some outsiders. Attending college, I’ve had the opportunity to meet some Chennai-lovers and since there must always be another side to a coin also some Chennai-haters. I am not trying to impose my point of view on people to make them like the city or anything of that sort. I’m merely voicing my concern for this issue because I want to know what our city has done to them that they harbor such hatred towards it. Surely they came to Chennai knowing where they were headed? Knowing full well that this soil that they think badly about would give them the opportunity to make something out of their lives? Would give them education and eventually jobs and security? You are our guests and we have treated you well, our conservatism may well annoy you but to ‘hate’ us is pretty unfair don’t you think?
Another thing that concerns me though is the attitude among many people, especially in my age group to say that, ‘Man, Chennai sucks’. Ask them why and they’ll tell you without missing a beat, ‘No discos, no nightlife, what do I do if I want to unwind? Huh?’ I’ve always argued with people who take this tone about our city, it is only natural I stand up for it right? I ask these people not to judge Chennai on the basis of how many malls it has or how many Kentucky Friend Chicken outlets it has. That would be the shallowest point of view you could possibly take.
Chennai is full of life and energy, be it in the swanky malls off Mount Road or in the jam-packed Ranganathan Street in T Nagar where the street vendors shout themselves hoarse selling their wares. The spirit of Chennai is contagious, in the sense that one is drawn to Chennai by its simple way of life. People who have stayed here and experienced the Chennai way of life never want to go back for good and forever share an emotional bond with the city. We are not redundant but people who embrace change with an open mind and live with zest. We have our smart and intellectual people taking decisions for our country at the Centre. We listen to classical music and dance the Bharatnatyam and watch our colorful, never-ending mega-serials and go over-the-top at times and put up life-sized cutouts for our Friday-release-heroes and serenade them with garlands and songs. Whatever we are we are at home, literally. Idhu namma Chennai machi!