TREASURES OF LIFE

A few steps down the staircase brought me to the murky and redolent storeroom full with the smell of old books hiding under the thick layer of dust. Train was on time. Mom was busy in packing and she had asked me to find a box in which she kept the lock and chain for the journey.

I started my search with an old rusted trunk. It opened with a creaking sound. As i went on, my eyes fell on a brown diary panting for breadth underneath a pile of books. Oh! it was the same diary in which i wrote poems when i was in class seven. I retrieved it from the pile and opened it with trembling hands, my heart thumping faster than before. The first poem was titled "Rules of Life".oh! i had written about something which i still dont know. The poem was signed in the end trying to imitate accomplished writers.

The "R" of "Rohini" was given a delibrate twist which was enough to depict the pride, young poetess must have taken in her creation. I remember when i wrote a poem i used to read it to myself several times and except mom let no one read it and shoved the diary underneath a pile of books. If someone read i got red with embarassment.Papa always got me in such situations. If someone came to our house,pa will say"just let uncle also listen to what you wrote last" then i would say pa "i dont remember and i cant find the diary". Sittng there i remembered everything, how elated i used to be every time when i was successful in finding a rhyming ending.

Oh this way i would never be able to find the box . I went to a carton near the trunk. I had started only when my hands fell on something i thought this was it. I brought it out and to my surprise it was the mobile phone box! . Once the pride of a young girl now stood there in faded glory.All the numbers ,alphabets had faded. It was the one which kindled a ray of excitement in my eyes when i first saw it and had showed it to everyone running from one end to another.

Ma called from ground floor and asked to search in the cupboard. I kept it aside and went to the cupboard. I opened the cupboard.It was lined with old worn out boxes. I found my box too kept there on the second shelf. At last i was successful and was about to close the cupboard when my eyes fell on a box with a tweety sticker on it. It was the same box in which i kept my embroidery threads.Sister Acquin used to teach us embroidery. I remembered once we had to prepare five embroidered hankies and i had shed fifty tears learning Rose Stitch from mom.

These things may seem trivial but they are the witness of the twinkle in a young girl's eyes on seeing a mobile phone box,they are the witness of a poetess' elated smile on finding a rhyming word. These are the building blocks of ones life hiding the secret of each moment. I may become a successful engineer and may design a mobile phone but will never forget the little mobile phone pencilbox and its charisma.Amidst the darkness i got a glimse of once radiant moments of my life. These things are the earnings of our life .....the treasures of our life.

Note : I had written long long ago and lost it. A friend had had kept and gave it to me recently :) And also at that time I certainly didnt know I would be in the mobile telecom industry :P

This happens sometimes you associate a memory with some event and it gets imprinted on the canvas of your mind. Like here I have a list of movies and some memory associated with each and after that whenever you see that movie again you always remember that.

Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar : Its memory for me is like a photograph only. Aamir used to be Shalu didi’s favourite. So all four of us and mom went to watch the movie. Vijay baba got the tickets and since it was running almost houseful he got the tickets in a category called special. That was the first time I saw any movie lower than the balcony and all of us so scared. Whenever I see that movie I always visualize five of us sitting in the special block amidst huge cheering and the last cycle race scene is going on.

Jaane to Ya Jaane na : This is among the MANY movies I saw in the glorious days of Bangalore. It was the next day we had shifted to our new house 008, A.R.R. Comforts. The show was at 1:00 P.M. I was ready and preparing Kadi. Mohit had booked ticktes and I was waiting for a call from them to go. I called, no one picked, and waited. It was five minutes for it to be one o’ clock. Vartika and Ruchi did said, they have left you and went away . The clock struck one and I almost believed them my phone rang. Shobhit had to come to pick me up and he had not seen the new house. I called him to come at DD and ran . He drove the bike at a speed of more than hundred. We reached although missed the first cat ‘s death mourning ceremony. So whenever I see the movie I always visualize myself scared on the roller coaster ride to forum .

I have lot many more...will keep updating when ever I get bored and have time :)

It goes down the hill bumping.. 

unfettered, from all the shackles emancipating.. 

 sometimes bruised by the undulations,nothing it needs 

Sometimes caressed by the velvetty flowers Sometimes tickled by the outgrown wild weeds 

 Gusts of winds aiding it in the mirthful odyssey

 There is no one stopping it..no looking back.finally.. 

 It belonged to the hill unknown It is liberated now.. It is the rolling stone... 

 How good it would be to be like a rolling stone ?

 Carefree roll down the undulated hill ... Breakfree ...you have arrived..let the world be known...

Rainy Day ...

Rain God's fury knew no bounds that day. Whole of the 100 feet road was submerged in a heavy deludge of water. It was raining like cats and dogs. My cab dropped me at the Airtel showroom on 100 feet road. The rain had no signs to abate so i decided to take an auto to my house. Everyday I used to cover that distance walking only.After several refusals, cold looks exchanged, exhorbiant prices being quoted by the auto men, finally admist all these I found an angel and that is what I would say because he already had a passenger inside, he agreed to take me in and charged ony Rs.20 .I was aready drenched. I muttered to myself " what a good man ?...God is still there ...good people with principles is still not a rare species "

As I sat inside I grappled in my bag for my purse pondering if I would have any change. I did not want to be of any trouble to him or get more drenched looking for change in that heavy downpour. To my dismay I had a Rs500 note. I reached outside my house and before getting down handed him a Rs.500 note for a fare of Rs. 20. with an expression of immense guilty. I was almost ready to hear " madam...change illa ..please change kodi ". My ears and eyes seemed to defy what my mind said. As soon as I handed him the note waiting for it to be returned, in a fraction of a second i had the rest of the 480 Rs. in my hand.

Dreanched in rain and drenched in the goodness of the automan i just took the folded bundle of notes and shoved them in my bag purse and stepped out of the auto, all this while so thankful to him and for a moment I wanted to change my perception of the Bangalore autowalas.

I happily marched towards my house charged to narrate the story of the goodness of the autowala. Next morning I got up and opened my purse for something and thought of opening the bundle of notes and keeping them in place properly. As I unfolded the bundle, I failied to feel the thickness of a hundered ruppee note. ( Iam a rich girl ,that is why I can feel and judge :P ) It felt like a flimsy piece of paper. As I unfolded completeley and had a look my head went into circles for a moment as the ever victorious, invincible, the undertaker, on whose entry lights went off, seemed to smirk and mock at me. Where was our father of the nation? If it was "ruppee" and a wrestler had to appear on the note then our DaraSingh is no less than undertaker. The automan had cheated me :(. His innocent face flashed in front of my eyes. He had handed me fake notes,infact those note cant be called fake notes also. It would mean looking down upon all the mafia who work days in and out to create those fake notes. That auto man's children must have bagged them with some "bubble gum " and he gave them to me for free to play :)

That is an incident which happened last year same time when it used to rain religiously in the evening as if the sun works nine to six and then hands over the evening shift to rain God. Now it is the same time of year again :). Rainy season is always that time of the year with which one can associate many such days, many such incidents which at that time felt like another mundane day but left an indelible impression or got imprinted on the canvas of your mind.

2020!

God was dexteroulsy busy in creating the world. Besides him sat an angel pondering over something. God's lips curved into a smile which said he knew what reigned on his mind. The angel said " God, in your world every country you created has some flaw, something missing, some trouble. Like some country is all scorching desert, some has people who are not good, some has sun for six months in a year only, but this conutry India has nothing which I can say is missing. It has six seasons, lush green plains, desert, water on three sides, mountains, people are also so good at heart, diverse culture..etc etc." God smiled and said " LOOK AT THE NEIGHBOURS".
Thats true. One the east side India has Pakistan ready to wage a war. One the western part sits Bangladesh who India helped to get liberated and it helps India's enemies. In the North lies China and the 1962 war is enough to depict how good a neighbour they are. And finally in the south we have Srilanka
Nostradamus made a prophecy that India would be a super power in 2020. Somehow despite all the dubious neighbuors and the internal disputes I feel India would be a super power. Long time back when this prophecy was made people would have never imagined to be living by 2020 hence never paid heed to it but now the time has come and many of us might live to see it.
I say so because if we see Pakistan is already in flames of the fire set by its own people. Its a war Pakistan vs Pakistan. Srilanka also is facing civil wars and riots. Truly said that one always falls in the traps created for someone else. Pakistan today is suffocating in its own creation along with America to beat Russia " The Taliban ".
Now some one will say how can India replace the super power, the USA. I would say that election of Barrak Obama is the turning point in India's journey to that goal. Obama's govenment denies rebate to companies who outsource or do not recruit American Nationals. This will hinder brain drain which was the major factor which led US progress at our expense. If all the IIM and IIT graduates would stay in India and use all their expertise for India's developement then I can for sure see that dream realise. We can already see many sucn techies who would have gone to the US and served them, opening Start ups some of them indulge in real commendable researches and development. Many are entering into government jobs also.
Thats just a very optimistic view and eleven years is too short a span for a developing country with the second largest population in the world, high corruption level, poverty to reach the zenith and rule the world, but still thats a dream which I would want to realise and I would want to live to see. I write this so that if "LUCK BY CHANCE" we are the SUPER POWER I,would want to reiterate this piece of writing.

Fancy Only

One thing which is on my fancies list, i dont know since when, is having a younger sibling.
I know you would say ..."people are never happy..now she is the youngest and pampered one so she cant be content with that ".. and then I would say "hmmmm....hmmm...actually I want both ;)"...greedy people!!!!!
Yesterday I met Vartika's younger sister and my forgotten wish in some dingy corner of my heart again started leaping making me ponder. I always thought i would have some one whom I can browbeat, get him or her clean my room spick and span, polish my shoes, keep my plates, fold my clothes etc etc. ..hey Iam no tyrant..dont be scared ...just joking...
I wanted a younger sibling who would drive me crazy blabbering away about his/her school, college and I would listen patiently learning that Iam also outdated now. He would pester me for the latest cricket kit and she would ask for the most precious watch in town. I would teach him/her Maths and brag about my college and hostel experiences. when I would go home there would be some one waiting for all those stories.Then he/she would go round the city with me on my activa having fun.
There would be some one whom I can advice, guide and take care and not let commit the mistakes which I made in life.
This is the thing which I have longed for a long long time ..that is why I wrote this in fifteen minutes because I have all the things clear ..what all I would do :).
Unfortumately this dream cant be realised as we are four brothers and sisters and Iam the youngest one...already violating family planning so ...better luck next time :(

To A Software Engineer

The little girl's hazel eyes glittered and her lips curved into an admirable smile as she read the last line of the article printed in the Times Of India. Every sunday she would wait desperately for the newspaper man to throw the news paper dexterously in the balcony and elated at the thud, she scampered down to catch hold of it, open the news paper and read her favourite weekly article written by an anonymous writer. As she read and admired the authors imagination and creativity, a screaching sound pierced the tranquility she delved into and i got up from my dream and recklessly pressed the red button of my nokia 6300.

I started getting ready for office, and pondered simultaneously how good it would be if I get payed for something i enjoyed doing and every friday, every week of my life i would not say" thank God it is Friday".Singers get payed to enjoy themselves, for getting there heart puffed with joy , cricketers have there account registers ringing for hitting sixes.

Like Steve jobs says "you have got to find what you love". Everyone, in some crooked dingy corner of their heart nurtures a liking, a longing, to indulge in something which would never give you the time to look at the time in your watch, which would make your heart beam with joy, take you in some oblivious world of fantasy where you forget everything.

Many a times i have heard most of the software engineers saying " i never wanted to be what iam today", " I was not at all a technical guy". Some one says i am cut out to be a gernalist, some one finds joy in analysing each ball which pierces the stadium being the victim of the elated batsman's frenzy, penning down their thoughts takes some one on cloud nine.

Dont let life trap you in its clutches and kill your aspirations,dont let the zeroes and ones reign over you and make you their slave and make you utter these words" i always wanted to do this but could not". Caught in this viscious circle, you would never know when the sand slips out of your hand.

Pursue your dream. Along with your profession which earns you bread and butter there can be another profession which earns you one thing which even master card cant buy ..sheer joy and satisfaction of realizing your dream. May be the norms of society compelled you to be some one else, but this some one else can help you try to be some one you wanted to be always.For eg. if you wanted to have business, you can earn your own money and pursue it, if you wanted to be singer you can join any training school. If suppose you had tried your hands at being a singer and not succeeded life would be miserable.

So, just ruminate and reflect about the utmost thing which emancipates you from all worries. Do not let the dream die in that dingy corner, nurture it and let it bloom into a reality. As far as Iam concerned the little girl's joy is my saviour :).

Note:- Please share your dream also