31.12.09

The Chaos Theory

For me, 2009 will never be forgotten.
This was the year I turned 30.
And this was the year I made up for a lot of growing up.

What a mind fucking mixed bag of a year.
I faced the most difficult professional crisis of my life, dealing with assholes of great magnitude, fighting liars, cheats and people with a capacity for malice I never knew existed. I saw the human value system touch a new low and I felt the thinnest part of a largely false moral fabric.

And I was in love.
Which honestly made all the aforesaid seem less than insignificant.

Then the work life got worse. And I had to quit, with scars of the umbilical cords that brought me there in the first place.

I started work at a new place. Started all over again.

And somewhere during this time, I lost my sense of love. Because I had spent too much of it on those who couldn’t return it. Or value it.

The year ended with a final nail in the coffin that convinced me this was the year of retribution for everyone I had ever hurt in my life. Because with each ache I felt, I saw their faces flash before my eyes. And I could do nothing but say ‘I’m sorry’.

But then, that is not all.

This year also gave me something I will treasure forever; over and above the harsh lessons that came my way.

This year, I made friends who became family (Kiran, Priya, Tanmay, Amit). My family came closer to me after we fought (Anuja, Simran, Anisha). And my ex boss became my anchor and teacher (Ramanuj). My current boss rocks (Rahul) simply because he lets me be and do my thing, and kissing ass is not part of my KRA. And a whole bunch of wonderful friends, who made me not only tide through but deal with all the mayhem the year threw up. All of them put together, it feels like the armour of God.

So yeah, Fuck You 2009. And Fuck all the assholes you sent my way.

I won :)

28.12.09

An open letter to Shashi Tharoor

Dear Shashi Tharoor

I am a big fan. I really like the points you raise in your tweets. I loved your TedTalk on Soft Power. And I’m in awe of the way you left all the goodies of a private life to take on a public role. Bravo.

But today, I am going to join the mob and question you. Because I don’t want a good man to lose hope because of a dozen or more idiots.

You should have read the fine print before becoming a minister. They really never tell you that do they?

The silent clause about not having an opinion and most definitely not voicing it. Or the clause where you are meant to show party spirit even if you don’t agree with the way things are being done. Or yes, the one where you need to abandon all wit and carry a brooding look that looks like you’re part of running a country of over a billion.

You have the voice. You have more than half a million followers. And you chose to join a party and not create one of your own?

I mean, think about it, you could do a lot more for the country by just starting a newspaper.

Because anyway the media sucks, they have nothing enlightening to talk about unless some fanatic or idiot or both do something ungodly. Even then they can’t go beyond the ‘what are your feelings right now?’ kind of news.

And by starting a newspaper or a news channel of your own, you will solve a number of problems.

You will question the government on your opinions rather than suggest them.
You will talk about the micro issues as much as the ‘larger picture’.
You can say what you want.
And above all, with a writer like yourself running the show, you can lift the overall standards of journalism this country has stooped to.

Become a media baron Shashi Tharoor. Not a politician. For one, you are not built for it. You lack the required sleaze and ambiguity. For second, politicians seldom get anything done faster than Darwin.

Start a media house. Reach out to people. Tell them what they should be asking for. Tell them how to get it. Do something like this, that makes tangible difference to one life at a time. Don’t let your efforts become the part of a long drawn process that talks to everyone and touches no one. And if you do it, I will gladly give up my private life to help you in every way I can. That is an economically independent promise.

This country does not need leaders. This country needs an outlaw. The kinds that the people look up to more than the king.

An outlaw who gets things done. An outlaw who can become the hero.

21.12.09

Armaan


Haqeeqat ko banaao, khwaabon se bada;

Dil tabah hai to kya… Dil tabah hai to kya.

8.12.09

_c a t h a r s i s

Invincible. Confident. Storyteller. Lucky. Proud. Tense. Energetic. Scared. Sick. Happy. Jealous. Angry. Exhilarated. Playful. Buzzy. Respected. Loving. Vain. Astonished. Bumpy. Empty. Foolish. Mad. Relaxed. Awe struck. Swift. Hiding. Tearful. Reassured. Horny. Vicious. Ballsy. Infuriating. Excited. Upfront. Dirty. Hungry. Guilty. Loved. Pimped. Animated. Hurting. Evil. Trusting. Safe. Stunning. Amazed. Bouncy. Greedy. Sweet. Naughty. Annoyed. Calm. Fluffy. Hunted. Confused. Charged. Dizzy. Curious. Dreamer. Brilliant. Speechless.


I feel like a mindfuck.


Imagine sneezing in reverse.

7.12.09

Unfacing

Deactivate your facebook account.

80% of the people on your list will assume you have deleted / blocked them.

Out of those, about 40% would have your number / email / instant messenger ID etc.

And from those, about 10% would be people you’re actually thick with.

Nobody will call or write in to check with you. But they will discuss amongst themselves as to why people were (rather unceremoniously) ejected from the list.

Many theories ensue. There are actually a few half interesting ones too. But let’s leave that to another post.

The ones, who do manage to write to you, not call, write mind you, do it with a purpose of accusation. WHY was I deleted?

This is funny actually. Two weeks since I deactivated my facebook account, I have come to a scary realization about social networking.

What was meant to support my friends’ circle suddenly became its life support.

So if I am not in touch with you on social networking or not on your list anymore, I am as good as dead. Irrespective I might have dropped coffee on my machine, the ISP had an area blackout or I was going through a phase of digital denial, off the list means off the radar. The news feed is oxygen feed. If I don’t show up, I don’t exist.

What is this? The Matrix?

Facebook was for idea sharing, mood beaming and showing off. And knowing friends birthdays and facilitating events and having contact information indexed. The idea was ‘staying in touch’ and maybe ‘meeting new people’ or even ‘making phraindsheeps’. That is it. Facebook was not about a mandatory tax you paid in the digital world in order to remain friends in the real world.

If it is, up yours.

I don't mean to expect people to fuss over me, but if you are going to make the effort to deduce on your own; why I might have done whatever you think I have done, try checking with me before you form a sub committee amongst yourselves. This communist like behaviour is seriously disgusting.

Frankly, I deactivated my account to take a break. A social detox of sorts. Getting my head in order and all that serious sounding shit which was actually pretty trivial and a result of a random mood swing. Until now, that is.

Now, seeing how people reacted, well, I think I will stay off facebook for a lot longer. It will kind of filter a lot of stuff for me. I would know how much of a friend a friend is. Or maybe do a research paper on how social networking has infact eroded the core fabric of human bonds. Sounds grand, eh? It will be. Because you already agree.

So, if you’re a friend, you know where to reach me. If there is a happening in your life you want me to be a part of, I won’t be reading updates, so try making the news; good, bad or ugly, a bit personal.

If you’re not or don’t want to because you need a facebook roll call to know who your friends are, too bad.

And if you are going to sit and wonder and discuss and ponder and call the whole world and not me, about why I deleted or blocked YOU, I understand and share your anguish (boo-fucking-hoo).

6.12.09

Baazi

Khwaahish hamesha poori hoti hai.
Kabhi maangne waale ki, kabhi dene waale ki.