Buddha Baap - The Old Man.

Daddy - my ultimate epitome of tall, dark and handsome. Yes, he is all 3 in an extremely handsome package. He had dumbbells at home to pump up his biceps and he played racquetball and went for a run and stayed fit. He is still just as fit. We watched Rambo on Star Movies year after year and I always said to him - He is Rambo without the scars. One near-death experience, 9 months on the hospital bed and he was smiling. Why? He was now a total Rambo, with the scars and all that. Yes, that's my daddy for me.

I beg, borrow, steal money from him. Ok let's put it this way - I snatch money from him in 3 ways - begging, borrowing and stealing. My dad has limited means but I know he will always find enough ways to give me money when I want it. All expensive things are bought by dad. Any place that accepts cards, daddy will buy me things. He is the one who gets those expensive shoes and cameras and clothes. He is not an ATM, he is a vending machine for everything.

He is the man who knows when I am thirsty and am not asking for water because I think its a hassle to stop the car. He is the one who knows I am longing for Jumbo glass Pineapple juice at our favorite stall. He is the one who promptly goes out at midnight to get emergency products on day 1 of my chums. He is the man who patiently waits outside the salon while I get excess hair plucked and nails polished. He is the one who can smell yummy Samosas and Jalebis from a kilometer and will drive in that direction no matter where he has to go. He is the one who will make us pack up our things at 9PM for a 6AM trip 600miles away. He is the dad who can make 20 lecherous men look away with just one stare. He is the one who knows exactly what kinda stuff I trip on when walking on the streets. He will still clutch my hand tight when I cross roads.

He is the one who is SO freaking proud of his 2 daughters and will talk about us anywhere, anytime and to anyone. He is the one who wakes up with a startle at the thought of me getting married and going away. He is the one who still loves me and protects me like I am a 2 year old. He is the one I hug, clutch, hit, shout at and do and say all nasty things to. He is the 6 ft tall man who, even after 30 years, smiles at his 5 ft short wife when she is yelling at him.

He is the man who made his way into the big nasty world - all by himself. He is the one who has never ever let anyone challenge his integrity. He is dignity personified. He has lived in limited means, raised his family maybe not in riches but with the maximum quantum of love ever. He is the ultimate family man and the awesomest father.

I love you daddy. I will probably never show you this blog but you should know that there is no one as important and dear to me as you. You are a dad better than one can even dream of. That tight hug and peck on your bald head 15 minutes ago was the daddy-daughter version of this post. I love you so much.

P.S: Buddha Baap in English translates to Old Father, Baap being the crass-est way of saying 'dad', in fact bordering rude. I've addressed my dad as Buddha Baap since I was 5.

A note to my brother

They say you were my mom's body guard when she was pregnant with me. You were the first one to hold me - even before my mother or my father. You thought I looked like a monkey with all the hair on my head. You thought all baby's were born bald. You wanted to take me out to your friends the very day I was born and you cried for 10 days since they won't let you take me anywhere. 

You taught me how to toss candy in the air and make it land right into my mouth - a skill I am still so proud of. You made me sit on the bar in your cycle and I swear bhai, that hurt. But I never complained, you know why? Because I loved you more than anyone else in the world - probably more than my own sister. 

You went to Pilani and wrote to me every week. I wanted to grow up so fast and catch up with you. You told me when you had your first crush - I look back and think 12 years is quite an age gap to be confiding in a little cousin sister. You said you loved that girl and wanted to be with her. I loved her even before I knew her name - just because you loved her. 

You got married and I bought so many clothes for your wedding because I wanted to see you smile each time I looked pretty. But I caught you smiling, looking at me when you thought I was fast asleep. I wasn't big enough to know what that meant, but I now know you wanted a daughter like me and you couldn't help it but feel happy to have me. 

You were the success story the entire family spoke of - the prodigal child with photographic memory and an undeterred will to ace in whatever he did. And you loudly conveyed your wish to see me take over your place and get all the worldly success. I was a blind follower. You loved me so much. I wanted to do only that which you thought was right. I wanted to prove to you that I was good at whatever I did, that I would stand up to your expectations.

Well the word expectations is so heavy I did not know. I was growing up in my own world - learning something new about myself every single day. But somewhere wrongly assuming that you would stand by me in whatever I did. You hated the boys I liked. And I couldnt convince myself that I liked the wrong boys. You hated the courses I pursued. And I couldnt convince myself that I made wrong career choices. 

Today you are 36 with 2 sons and without a daughter like me. Today you are a success story that the world swears by. Today I love you just as much as I did when I was a day old. But today you think of me as a directionless adult. 3 days later when I will receive you at the airport, I know you will give me a not-so-warm hug and you will fire questions at me - and I will be at loss of words trying to explain why I want to do what I want to do. 

I hope someday, when you grow older, you will appreciate your little sister's will to do what she wanted to, and smile seeing her smiling face. She will smile not because she prove a point, but because her brother loves her for what she is and not for what she has. I hope you will tell your sons to follow their heart, even if it means they want to become florists and mechanics. 

And I hope someday you also, will follow your heart.

Disclaimer - Very personal-diary-ish post. Don't read if you are in the mood for some entertainment.

Chalo, I might as well write about it. 

I dont cry. I hate crying and people who cry overtly. Unfortunately I am sourrounded by these super emotional people who cry at the flick of a finger. 

I am also quite curt when I am pissed off. I do not pass false statements or make false allegations and am as fair as one can be in a sticky situation. BUT, if I am irritated I will state facts in a way that can pierce through people. Ask my best friends. 

And I did that today. With guess who? Daddy. I said something which is true but I put it in a very painful manner. Luckily, Dad wasn't there and Mom heard it. Mom is one of the super emotional people I was talking of earlier. A tear rolled down her cheek and damnit. I lost it. I knew I said something very mean. And then there was no stopping me. I cried. I cried through out the evening. I think all the emotions I held in the last 15 months came out like Niagara falls. 

Mom was shocked. This was the first time she'd seen me crying. I cried and I cried. And I slept. I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like such a disaster. My eyes had become so small and puffy and I really looked damn weird. In fact 6 hours past and I still don't look like myself. Damnit I have some super pretty chic friends who cry on a daily basis. They'd look stunning if they stopped crying I think. 

I am off for dinner with parents. My faith is reaffirmed that as long as my parents are here, I don't need to worry about a damn thing. Even if I were paralytic and cent percent immobile, I can still live with the 'jinu-smile' intact. And I will definitely sail through this patch of monetary instability. Courtesy parents and of course Sony. 

That was such a 'personal-diary-ish' post. 

Buzzzzzzzz.....

I had to write. There is no other way out. There are just tooooo many thoughts out there.

 

1. 1. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Nor do I want to listen.  I will not answer phone calls, fine. But how do I tell my folks at home? They look forward to me coming home so that they can talk and hear me talk. Sigh! But I am so glad I am up here in my room for the next 8 hours.

 

2. 2. I can't wait to go away, now that I know I am going away. And it is upsetting to see mom so upset about it. She ain't saying it loud but drops these rather loud hints. Their insecurity is killing me. They feel I'll never be with them again. Eight damn years I stayed away and 8 months suddenly make them so miserable? They talk things like - "us oldies of the family should settle down in one place." Hell it makes me feel as if they are all gonna build themselves a freakin old age home!

 

I don’t know about uncles and aunts but my parents sure deserve better. And me and sister are more than clear about it. Mom still hasn’t lived her dream of wearing nice frocks with a hat and walking on the streets of London on a sunny day. How can she even TALK about that stupid old age home setting! Disgusts me.

 

3. 3. Everyone in my family (even distant relatives)  is killing himself/herself (and me in the process) over  my B-school. I wonder why they are obsessing so much. I wanted to do the damn MBA because I thought what they teach out there is fab if you went to the right place. Precisely why all the struggle to go to that damn Harvard. But now I've started feeling/behaving like a stubborn child who doesn't want to do something because everyone else is insisting.

 

Hell, why can't people tell me that I should do what I want to. Why do they start the sentence with -" I want you to…."  To hell with what you want!

 

4. 4. Good things that happen in a day help us live with the not-so-good things. Every stage of my life I have come across someone who is very much like me. Like really very much. And this person has just appeared from nowhere, clicked in one go and stayed forever or for really long in my life. It has happened again. Utopia she is. My blogger twin. Our wavelengths (read: embarrassing stories and weird minds) matched and we confided in each other quite a bit right on our 2nd chat. We haven't met yet and I already feel awesome about her. Welcome to my life,  girl. Hope you are here to stay! And yes, I'll see you in April.

 

       5.  My company is broke. Momentarily. And the auspicious moment happens to be the time I am also quitting! They owe me about a lakh of rupees. And I have no idea if they will clear my dues this 31st (my last day!) or not. As you all know I am being shipped to a secret location. But hell, the secret location is this expensive tier 1 city of India. Damn I need the freakin dough! 

Yes there's dad but come on! It is weird to just keep taking non-stop. He is not a very rich man. It is kinda strange but for the first time I am feeling crushed because of finances. I've seen more than enough financial crunches but never felt so disheartened and never have I been upset for days over it. May be it is the 6 figure that's making it difficult. God please, I need you to intervene.

 

Thanks guys, for putting up with this insipid post about my insipid life.

 I sound like such a cry baby. Shit. 

The 8 week break in the 8th city for those 8 months after those 8 years.

Alright Mike! It’s time for some change! Parents will probably shift base from North India to South India - roots calling it seems! Which means I will also shift base - but not to where ma-pa will go. I am off to another city - a city where almost all my love(ed ones/rs hehehe) live! And guess what? I am not allowed to tell anybody that I am in that city!

 

According to my parents, this is supposedly a break where I concentrate only and only on my exams and catch up on some reading and exercising. They think 8 months is too long to stay with parents after 8 years of staying alone - and they are freakin right! So this is an 8-week paid break to do my thing in a lavish 4 bedroom apartment with everything being taken care of! So what If I wont have company, never mind I can indulge into some ones-rampant vices of my life and get a kick ;-)

 

So I am damn glad I have parents who understand and know me so well. It is hard to be in 'that' city and not tell anyone. :( But what the hell, it's only 8 weeks and neither me or them are dying without each other. This is my last chance to redemption. And I owe my parents (and myself) some real ass-kickin' scores and a feckin' awesome admit. And to hell with everything else.

 

Though I am really concerned if my Telugu-turned-Hindi parents will ever manage being Hindi-turned-Telugus!

 

And in case I din't say it before, this will be the 8th town I'd be moving to in my life! So many 8s... hmmm… an 800 score on GMAT is next, may be? :D

 

 

Happy Birthday Chonikudi!

I once convinced a girl 5 years older than me that I am the female-avataar of lord Krishna and that she should touch my feet. That way I would free her of all her woes. And she did. That girl was my elder sister.

 

Things haven't changed much yet. She continues to be my elder sister and I continue to take her on a ride every now and then. Though she is living the promise I made to her. She continues to free me, the lord, of all woes. She is not just my sister - she is my life, my love, my everything. We have moved past being each other's friends, philosophers and guides. Now there is only word that can explain what Sony means to me - she means life to me. Literally.

 

We have been and continue to be each other's pets.

 

I have never felt so crippled in expressing love for someone. So I will skip that part and will scribble a few crazy things I remember about us -

 

1. My earliest memories - She used to read out loud tables from 2 to 10. She was so loud and she read them so often that when I was 3 years old, I knew by heart all of them. I am not kidding.

 

2. She would let me sleep during study hours (since I used to be perennially sleepy. Not like things have changed much now) on one condition - that she gets to sketch/paint secretly (yes, she is an awesome artist) in the disguise of those long books.

 

3. We would go out to play with the kids in the neighborhood and she would make sure I do not lose the game or have to do any of those annoying things like chasing people in a running game. She knew my legs hurt and I cannot pace up with the boys.

 

4. She would tell me amusing stories of the exciting life she lived, all alone, in Poona. And all that I wanted back then was join her the very next year. And I did.

 

5. Poona would obviously not be one hundredth as nice for me if not for her. We went EVERYWHERE ourselves. We would fill the fuel tank in our scooty/activa and go around the town. Like one end to the other - with NO work! Yes… we would just go roam about, check out guys, eat something cheap if we were hungry. We did not need friends, boy friends, family nothing. We were so-o-o self sufficient and probably the happiest duo in the entire town. Even now, the thing we tell each other during tough times is - "kanna, don't worry. I'll soon come and we'll go ride around the town. Ok?"

 

6. And a birthday memory - we would go to Ganpati temple in the morning, then Idli breakfast, then movie tix, visit to aunt's house, lunch (egg curry and roti) at east street, movie at west end and THEN meet friends well after 6 in the evening. That was routine for both birthdays.

 

7. She was my bank, my ATM. We never took extra money from parents for our frivolous expenses. Sony would work part time at some place or the other and we would spend every single penny on having fun - movies, fancy food, some clothes, anything!

 

8. We have counseled each other about every single thing in life. We have no secrets. NO SECRETS AT ALL. There is only one person the world I share my passwords with and that's her. And I know no one will ever get that right. I repeat - no one.

 

9. There are soooo many other things I can't and won't write on this blog. Except that I have been with her on every single birthday of hers, save this one. Yes, it's her birthday today and we only love each other 100 times more than how much we did a year ago. We can't help it. We are addicted to each other.

 

Happy Birthday Sony. I promise you will see me on the cover of TIME magazine soon. I love you. 

P.S: Sony's real name is Sonali. We call each other the same names, but the ones exclusive for her are Chonee and Chonikudi. :) 

Bombay diaries

I went to Bombay, all excited since I was visiting that place after so-o-o long! When I used to be in Pune, Bombay was like second home to me. I would always take a volvo and drop in to my my brother's house as and when I wished. Then I would go around the town meeting some close and not-so-close friends. 

This time I met 2 of my closest friends, my friends from Google days. I took a local (first time all by myself) and went from Vashi until VT where Zubinder was waiting for me. He was shouting at someone over the phone. I figured out it was a gf-bf fight. My heart bled for him - he is such a sweetheart I wonder how anyone can break his heart! 

He drove me around the town and a while later we met KV over lunch and drinks at Woodside Inn in Colaba. We spoke and laughed non-stop for the next few hours. The next stop was at Gaylord's on Churchgate for some yum-yum desert. The boys then took me on 'terrorism-tourism' and showed all the places that were attacked on 26/11.

After about 6 mad hours with the 2 of them I rushed home (with my brother getting all angry) to see my youngest nephew for the first time. He looked like such a sweetheart but when my phone was chucked down from the balcony, I realized why they call him a 'terrorist.' That is exactly what he seemed. 

Now my phone had lost display and would switch on/off at its on whim. (The repurcussions of which I am still going through!) Anyway, after this was talking to bhabhi for 2 nights straight over the world's best coffee (unlimited supply) and catching up about everything. She is the one person who has taught me what ageing gracefully is all about - 13 years older than me and a mother of 2 sons, she is the most charming, witty, funny, sensible and of course, lovable person in the world. 

I do not bond so much with my brother anymore - guess he is just letting me be. But yes, I know I am still his favouritest person in the world and I think that's what matters. That old man is just awesome :) 

On 10th morning, I made the much awaited bus ride to Pune. That is the ride which brings me closest to the real me. More about it in the next post. 

I am getting used to lovely mornings :)

It was otherwise a usual Thursday morning for me. Mom ringing the calling bell to my room, early morning phone calls, my alarms going off one after the other and me, I was contemplating if waking up at 7 30 am is ever worth it. I dragged myself out of the bed and I saw beauty! It was raining!

 

So if it is a North Indian December morning, it is anyway chilling. Temperatures are usually around 10 - 11 degrees which is considered to be quite pleasant in India. Yesterday morning, was one of the foggiest mornings ever and it was coupled with rains! The scale had dropped to about 5 degrees ( at 9:30 am) which is below any normal standard.

 

I went down to the kitchen and there was a hot cup of tea waiting for me. And dad was smiling slyly. I knew the plan. We do not go to work. Yes! We bunked office, started the car and dragged mom along. I say dragged because that's what we literally did. We din't let her even change from her night gown! We loafed around for a couple of hours and my sickness was back. So I was home and tucked in like a little child, peacefully asleep for 4 hours. Woke up, took a shower, had lunch, booked a zillion tickets for everybody. (we are all going on different vacations - btw! Delhi, Bombay, Pune, Bangalore - here I come!)

 

The evening highlight was shopping!! I bought crazy Indian wear and I am so looking forward to the weddings!

 

P.S - Those are pictures of the lake, that you can barely see due to the fog. And the other picture is of mom and dad. 

P.P.S - Life is beautiful :) 

Mind it! we DO notice if shoes are polished!

So I just realized its my blog and I have not posted anything about the person I love the most in the who world (galaxy even!) - My sister! Yes, Sonali, Sony, Chonikudi, chonee and a lot of other censored names go with her. She teaches Banking and Finance to Banking Management students at Manipal University. She is the queen of PJs and I am almost always into tears with her extremely crazy sense of humor which erupts at all inappropriate times! 

She had a new batch of students yesterday and as always, I thought she'd be damn thrilled and would short list a few cute guys and say - "Jinu! there is this guy, I am sure you will like him!" So at about lunch I checked on her about the new batch and here went the conversation:

Me: Hi Kanna

Sony - Hi... 

Me: Your new batch has arrived? How was it?

Sony: It was ok... 

Me: hmmm.. you do not sound too happy this time

Sony: Tell me one thing... aren't you supposed to polish your shoes on the first day at an institute? :( 

And there it was! You never know what will trouble Sony! She was so put off that she decided to dislike the entire batch! I will check with her again in a few days and see if she manages to get over unpolished shoes!