There are several people in our lives whom we owe great respect and love. Many which we cannot afford to lose, whatever be the situation. At times in our lives, we come across situations when one person happiness for you means remorse and sorrow for the other. These are really tough decisions that we need to often make in our lives. I mean you can take a left step and make your right feel happy and that makes you brain suck, while you can take a right step ahead and make your brain happy with a heavy heart.

Why is there no magic lotion of a simple formula like the Pythagoras Theorem to calculate that when two lines are going in two different directions at absolutely 90 degrees with no chances at all to meet anywhere except the point they started, how do we find out the one line which can join them both.

Aren’t most people in our lives like the two perpendicular sides of a right angled triangle? You meet them at some point, then the distances slowly increase and then you just stop caring about the distance and then you simply keep going in your own definite direction till infinity. Absolutely no scope of any changes or deviation. I think humans should cease to be straight lines. We should be anything but straight lines. Be a circle. Which intersects with another circle twice or any other shape which can intersect even more number of times. Because, more the number of times you intersect with people around you, more the conversations, more the conversations implies more the information, more the information means more intimacy and more intimacy leads to better relations in the loop. And this is true for any sex – male or female.

I often find myself at crossroads where I need to make someone happy because the society seeks so, because my upbringing tells me so, because the people I so much love deserve to be made happy. While doing this I usually need to ignore a few things I need, I love or I desire for. After all we all do behave like straight lines. That’s the problem. We cease to forget we are not straight lines.

I really wish there was a solution to this. I really wish someday I could just wake up with “no options” but ways. Options are dangerous and at times fatal. They can really get you into chosing the wrong door. That is what happens when you are at a crossroad – an iota of error and there you go! Wrong decision made for life. We do see in our lives that most successful people – whether it is career or academics or relationships, really never kept options. Options blind you into wrong decisions. Decisions that haunt you for life.

I keep finding myself at a situation when I know that this action of mine is going to make these many loved ones angry and this many loved ones happy and this many loved ones sad. You cannot keep all happy. The perfect solution does not exist. The universe is cruel. When I tell loved ones, I really mean only those few (maybe just countful numbers) whom I really do care for. I really do not take into consideration those people whom I have or they have already parted at previous crossroads. To deal with such mixed bag of emotions within the group of loved people you have is really challenging.

The age of 25-30 is the most vulnerable age. Our every decision is going to make “x” number of people happy while it is going to piss off (U-x) number of people, where U is the number for everyone else we love. While our teenage and early adolescent crossed a journey where we could kind of keep everyone around happy and smiling is gone. Even if you step up outside you house early at like, 4 am, you are going to wee away 3-4 people. Now if they were people we did not care about, we could say,  I don’t care. But the tough condition in this question here is U is the group we love. And to hurt people we love – is painful. Very painful. Be it your parents, friends, your mentors, your colleagues or anyone around who really matters.

We are all, I am sure, fighting with this. And we are all 90’s chaps together in this shit now. We will deal with it or time will take us through if we don’t deal with this our own way. But this is really very frightening – the very thought of hurting a loved one for making another loved one happy. It is depressing at its peak.

Share some experiences with me if you are a 25-30 bracket peer and have some comments to make.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada. 

Dear Hero Hawk,

I should have written this long long back, maybe back in 2001 itself, but I make an attempt to write it up now. You might not know me, but I have been a diehard silent observer since 2000. I had developed crazy level of affection for you at a time when even my legs did not reach the peddle board. I knew I will somehow manage you and your thin tall body. I was amused with the speed your thinner tyres could offer. But the best part was the posture you could offer your riders and your sleek design which I could not understand was way scientific than what my kid brain thought.

It was the summer of 2001, when the big old cycle that belonged to my father started behaving rudely with me. I remember it threw me down at the edge of the newly built PCC road (concrete road) which was like some 6 inches high, and it scooped out a good half-inch flesh off my left leg. It was the same day, General Musharraf had come to Taj Mahal for the Agra Summit with the then PM Late Atal Bihari Vajpayee. While the two nations were trying to reconcile their relations, my relationship with my first cycle love was on the verge of ending. It had hurt me real bad and I was bleeding. But I feared sharing this with my family. I somehow tried to conceal but could not hide as the bed and the quilt (it was July then) were ridden with dried blood. Took me around 2 weeks to overcome that breakup.

I decided I won’t drive a cycle again. I really believed that if I can ride the large old cycle the way I want, I was really a master at cycling. That one accident shook my self-confidence and I decided not to cycle anymore. I did not cycle for around 2 months. In the coming months, I stumbled upon Jo Jeeta Wahi Sikandar. I really liked the model of the cycle. I asked one of my friends to find out the name of the model. He teased me if I had a crush on this model, I shrouded him off saying I just liked the downward horn handles and that it was too good a cycle for me. A few days later he told me that these cycles were the expensive ones, but there was a decent cheaper Indian version which is called the Hero Hawk. That’s when I first got introduced to you. I asked him where can I see you. Luckily, on my way back home from school, there was a hero showroom, and though I passed it everyday in a very normal manner, I saw you standing there in full magnificence. It was love at first sight. The same old auto route never remained the same. Everyday I would build stories with you, of cycling you in those colony roads where I lived. I used to wear a tshirt and a half boxer to match the racer’s attire and imagined myself with you. It was a dream beyond expectations.

After a year of anticipation and affair with that one model standing right outside the shop – the olive green Hero Hawk, I expressed this desire infront of my parents. They asked me how much would it cost. I had asked for the rough budget from the shopkeeper and told them it would cost 5300. They denied at once. But they realised that their lad needs a cycle asap. So they agreed on getting me a cycle. I was partly happy because I knew that they would get me anything but hawk. There were reasons they had too – its cost, its height and the thin tyres which they thought would be expensive to repair and change.

We went to the shop. The shop was full of multiple new models of cycles – Hero, Atlas, BMX, and other expensive ones, which we really did not care about. I kept looking at one model after the other but while my eyes were looking at the other models, my heart was fixed at the olive green You. Suddenly the shop keeper came and literally pounced on my father saying that there is a very new cycle which has been launched today in Ranchi and the first 10 cycles will come first to his shop tomorrow. My father asked for the rates – he said 2800. It was well within the constraints my father was looking into. He asked for the name of the model. Hero Buzz. He said. He said it is a perfect drive for kids below 18. We went back. My father paid a 800 rupees advance to the shopkeeper to book one. I was about to get the best under 18 segment cycle. But that was best, not my love. The olive green you were still standing there. It felt you were waiting for me to come to you and talk to the shopkeeper about you. Maybe we could have bargained a little or maybe some solution could have come at.

Finally, I bought HeroBuzz. It was good. I tried to make it look like you. I put the cycles handle horns below, made the seat high and the handle low. But even after all modifications, it still remained Hero Buzz. Presumably, mine was the best cycle in the locality. Other kids were envious of my cycle, they wanted to just ride on it once. It was a Y-gen bike. But my heart was there with you. That was a compromise I made and I was living with that compromise.

Fast forward today, the Hero Buzz is gone. I can afford any cycle today. Any thing that I want to drive. But there is some heavenly misfortune that keeps you away from me. I have tried driving cars, almost all bikes, scooties, scooters, most cycles, but till date I have not driven a Hero Hawk. I really do not understand the chemistry between us. Maybe that is the reason the love for you remains. Yes, if the distance is mandatory for the love to remain, I will make sure I never come close to a hawk ever. So that every time I look at a Hero Hawk, my heart breathes the same way it did in 2001.

One of your many lovers.

Always yours.

Sometime in 2002.

A 10-year old with his mother was looking for the latest Triple-H rank one trump card. Now since, playing trump card was considered as big as a crime as intoxication of some kind, it had to be done in utter secrecy. While the mother was busy bargaining with the shopkeeper for the shirt, the boy goes to the adjacent shop and gets the triple-H trump card. His mother feels a weird sudden change on his face. Unable to understand it, she asks him to stand and measures the length of the shirt on his back. But the kid has nothing much to do with the shirt, he is really proud of his new trump card possession. Things done in secrecy could even then, get done without much issues.

After coming out from the dress shop, the duo walked across the cycle store. The kid had an immense love for Hawk cycles. He asks his mom one. His mom, just akin to any other mother figure said, this isn’t enough for you, we will get you a better one when it’s your birthday. The kid thought it was a good assurance. After all, waiting for a few days for an even better thing is all kids want. So the kid went to the market with two desires – a secret hidden desire of buying trump cards at a price which was well within his reach and the other an open desire of having a cycle, which was way beyond his personal capacity. The secret desire was fulfilled while the one which required assistance was postponed (apparently) saying a better thing was waiting in the near future.

This is a common phenomenon that happens with nearly most of us. Often the things that we really need (not want) are denied to us or taken away saying that a better thing is waiting for us (in the near future). We all know that better thing or the better tomorrow never comes. Sometimes people around us and specially those who tell us that there are better things waiting for you in the near future and that you really deserve much more than this, forget or overlook that a fish does not need any thing more than water. Wherever you take it, the water will be something that the fish will remember, if not succumb to its absence.

I was nearly 13 years old when I got disqualified in the first NSTSE (National Science Talent Search Examination), probably ’05. I had worked hard for it, but I could not even qualify the initial screening. I was really heartbroken, but the teachers  consoled me saying that the better was yet to come. I agreed. In that same year, I appeared for NSTSE again and secured an AIR 252. I realised that the better had come. But then I also did realise that this one maybe with “a better score” is not actually better than securing a rank in the “first” attempt. The people who could secure within the first attempt were applauded while those the next year were felicitated by just principal distributing certificates in the office. That’s the difference it makes.

However and whatsoever number of times, people say, the best is yet to come – Remember one thing – What exist now will never come back. We have heard that “time and tide wait for none”. So, if they don’t wait for anyone, why would the time wait for giving you a better moment at a later stage. What is gone is gone. It will never come back. That kid who dreamt for the Hero Hawk cycle and riding that to go the friends place with his favourite wrestler Triple-H- on the 1^st position, that feeling is something he will never have. What is gone is gone.

So the next time you try to console someone, don’t say the “best is yet to come”. I will tell you it really doesn’t matter if the best will come. What is gone now will never come. That void will remain. Ever. Instead try saying, “look what is gone is gone, now move ahead. There are OTHER things ahead in life”. Now they are better, best of worse, let the time decide.

Give me a feedback if you feel the same and share your favorite lines (if any). Share the rant with people who are habituated to saying, “the best is yet to come”. Lol.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

It was the 23^rd of July, 2019, when it struck to me that instead of ranting out to specific people on specific conversations, why don’t I do it on a blog and share it with close friends. I was sure that many people will be having the same issues as myself. Its always good to share the concerns with like minded people. For me it really was an exhaust from my everyday worries, wherein I spend an hour daily with myself and sort out one case of my life per day.

What began with burning hot topics like songs, female menstruation, eve teasing, went ahead with even more finer topics like self-confidence, inner thoughts, social pressure, etc. The kind of response I got was so broad, ranging from comments like – I feel myself in your rants, This rant is a diary of all Indian adults to comments which criticised my way of writing and suggested I improve my language, flow and grammar.

To all those who praised or criticised me in this journey, I extend a warm welcome. I take this opportunity of the 50^th Rant to remember all those faces who consistently supported me throughout. People whom I imagined would sit beside me while I wrote, people who pinged me at 11pm to ask where was the rant link, people who would tell me it was absolutely fun to read today’s rant and that they would wait for tomorrow’s rant eagerly. Maybe they did not realise that by just a simple plain statement, they raised me to a level, where I promised myself that I will keep writing.I set the 50^th rant as my first milestone. And here I am.

I do not belong to a generic group of writers who have been writing since a long time. And well, to be honest I do not write. I don’t really care about the punctuations or the grammar (and I am not using grammarly too, lol). Rants are never supposed to be that way. I sit with my laptop, start writing and just finish it without any editing and then publish it. That is what you all read. An un-edited, honest and a continuous rant. This is the way we rant when we do in our daily lives – we don’t edit what we say, we really do not think a lot before we speak. What I want this to become is a clear honest diary. A diary that has atleast one page that matches your life.

I really want this blog to become a source of reflection for atleast some of the most important people in my life. It has also taught me that I just need to be honest with myself and I will really have a strong group of people, though small, who will always be connected to me through these blogs.

In my blogs, we have cried through and laughed along the lines of nostalgia. Emotional songs, nostalgia of the 90’s, and what not. People ask me how do I get so many topics to write about. Believe me, there are 1000’s of subjects out there, that I can write about. Sometimes it is really difficult to decide what to write.

Few of my friends also gave a feedback that my blog is like my biodata and complete behaviour sketch. Maybe it is. Maybe you will come to know everything about me once I write for even more days. And I promise I will keep writing.

What does all this mean for me? This blog is an exhaust, an exhaust so wonderful that this has become like a part and parcel of my life. It is really wonderful to see people giving feedback on what I write. I never thought so many people would be reading the blog. People from 13 countries have read it (I know all would be my out-stationed friends only. Lol.) But it feels great. Definitely great.

For me personally this is a medicine, a bunch of aromatic flowers, a puppy’s touch. In one of the rants I had mentioned what drives me to writing the rants. Everyday without fail. It’s my Gee.

I will mention the 5 most read rants and the 5 least read too. They are :

Most Read
1. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/07/23/songs-that-wake-you-up-1-intezaari-unplugged-article-15/
2. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/07/25/rant-3-the-generic-rant-of-a-90s-kid-the-doordarshan-syndrome-dds/
3. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/07/24/rant-2-the-disgrace-of-the-holy-blood-the-bleeding-lady/
4. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/07/30/rant-8-the-day-i-cried-a-confession/
5. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/07/26/rant-4-1019-minutes-of-pure-nostalgia-and-choked-feelings-sandese-aate-hain/

Least read:
1. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/09/07/rant-47-how-difficult-it-is-to-be-what-i-am-2/
2. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/08/21/rant-30-the-gee-that-keeps-me-writing/
3. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/09/09/rant-49-dont-entertain-the-idiots/
4. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/08/26/rant-35-hate-for-the-hyped/
5. https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/08/30/rant-39-lets-run-away/

Stay Tuned! because it is not the end of the story! The story has just begun! 

Do read more and more and share with people who you think would love to read the subjects. 
Will Always keep Ranting, Rantzaada. 

I was travelling in the Howrah-Guwahati Express on the Saturday. It was a bright cloudy day, with half of the sky bright and the other half ridden with dark clouds, almost in the entire journey from Howrah to the Siliguri corridor. It was a pretty decent sleeper bogie with me there in the first compartment. Since it was the first bogie after the AC 3 tiers, all vendors would necessarily start from me first. Tea, jhalmudi, books, chains, powerbanks and headphones, chai (again), singing artists, an old blind fellow asking for financial help, an old lady doing the same, some kids coming to clean the bogie floor, TTE, the pantry fellow with some food, etc. in the given order.

Mostly in the train journeys I do not shell out money on people who come near your face and ask for money. Even that day, I overlooked many people who came across seeking money, while I gave a 10-rupee note to 3 people – a singer who was playing an Assamese instrument and sung really well, a very old woman in her 80’s probably who was blind and her hands were in bad shape and third a kid who came in and read the top 10 news and it was a really new thing for me. I had seen kids brooming the floor, singing songs, making mockery, doing stunts etc for money, but for the first time I saw a kid coming and telling the top 10 news of the day from a newspaper.

There was another fellow who asked me not to entertain these “idiots”, whom I soon discovered was in a habit of throwing water bottles out of the window the moment the water inside was over. I decided not to even listen to him. Such people are anyways a disgrace to everything. I really pondered over it as to how should one decide if ethically or legitimately one is eligible to pay cash to someone or not.

I really brainstormed over this the whole night and early morning it struck to me. There are a specific group of people that I tend to give cash more than any other group. Not just trains but anywhere else too. In temples, across markets, in bus stands, etc. It really took me a lot of time and thinking to actually come up to this bracket. Sometimes, we are just used to doing things without actually thinking the reason behind it and we usually call them “intuition” or “gut feeling”. I don’t remember the name who said it, but someone once said, “the better you know the game, the more accurate gut feelings you have”. So, when we really do not know the reasons behind our gut feelings, it is probably because there is something unknown within your mind that makes decisions for you with a regulated algorithm, but is unknown to you and you term it intuition or gut feeling.

Giving some cash over to someone is not a good idea though, but then there are faces and there are personalities where you simply cannot help but move forward to hand over some money. Now there are two parts to it – Giving money is overall considered to be an ill practice. I agree. I am at fault here. Secondly, there are things which deserve some appreciation in form of a monetary reward like someone sings a good song for you or like the kid who read a newspaper main points out loud. Might not have been really significant in the age of Knappily or Inshorts, but still was heart touching.

I realised that everytime I came across someone like this – I put myself in their shoes and think what would I have done if I was in the same place. Would asking for money be the only or the best refuge I would have or can I do something better to earn than to ask? IF the answer is yes, I hand over whatever I am capable of and if no, I do not give, whoever and whatever be the situation.

Now reading this some people might want to judge the sense of judgement I possess, but to be honest, I realised that this is it. This is what makes me give people a few rupees. If you look deep within yourself too, you will realise you also do possess a particular mechanism for such judgement. Apart from all these things, I agree we must refrain from giving money and try giving food, stationary in case of kids or maybe just take them to a food stall and ask them to take whatever they want. Giving them food or an experience is much much better than giving them money, because most of the money, especially in trains or traffic roads, directly goes to the mafias and the fellow seekers get only a daily fixed payment.

Anyways, this in the first place, in itself is a big problem. Because such acts lead to child and human trafficking, etc. My intent was to write how I decide whom to support, whom to not. Apart from that, there are a lot of if and but’s. I agree.

Share this rant if you could also figure out what is the bracket of people you support with money. Also, provide your feedback on the blog. It really serves as a motivation to help me continue writing irrespective of the condition and the situations. Every night 11o clock! J

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

I am writing this as I am travelling through places in Assam and really with a busy schedule. Unfortunately my phone’s charging pod is not working so effectively I do not have a phone with me. The place has been really good. Guwahati has been serving us well and all apprehensions regarding non-availability of vegertarian food is, to my surprise, null and void. I am ecstatic with the kind of cuisine and food that I am getting here ranging from bamboo shoots and special naga curries.

There are things we all are used to doing, for which we usually do not have a real concrete answer to. Some things are just done because they are supposed to be done. No reasons whatsoever – no justifications and no excuses. One such habbit of mine is the virtue of being a vegetarian. People, with a first impression usually judge me to be a hardcore non vegetarian fellow. And so do they, with me being a hardcore smoker, drinker bla bla. Luckily, I am in none of the following groups.

In regards to me being a vegetarian, I wish to make a clarification that I was a hardcore non vegetarian before, like quite late till 2007. It was then that I left became vegetarian one fine day. When a thought came to me, whether eating non vegetarian is really important, given the context and the geographical region I am in, I realised that people living in the northern part of the country can actually do away with non veg (without living a hermit’s life, ofcourse). I realised that over the course of the last 12 years, apart from a few countable days when I was in certain locations where I had nothing apart from the non vegetarian food, almost none of the days I really felt that I missed the non vegetarian food. Yea, I mean being a food enthusiast, the smell of the non vegetarian food or the taste of died prawn chips, or the liver of a chicken, etc. do still chills within me. I mean it’s not the urge to eat that is binding, but its the taste.

People keep asking me, why did I leave eating non vegetarian and whether I do get the cravings for meat, fish or atleast eggs. I keep answering people the same thing over and over and not everyone seems to understand. First and foremost, it is more like a decision that I have made. Not to eat non vegetarian was a decision that I made in full consciousness and I am determined to stand by it, till the premise on which this decision was made stands true. It is not a rock-stand decision that whatever happens, even if the catastrophe happens, I will not eat non veg. Nothing like this. The day I feel I need to eat, I will barely think for a second before having that. It is that kind of a decision.

Some people link this habbit of mine to my saffro towel, to my temples love and my interest in ancient Indian knowledge and consider me a devout serious candidate on the way to accepting the life of a hermit. While this is mostly in lighter moods, I really wish I could have taken the life of a hermit, only if the life in society was not this interesting. 🙂 Anyways, I have full faith in the institution of a family and I have no plans to deter from it.

My food choices also are not an indication of what kind of people I keep away. I do not maintain distance from people having non-veg. I can even cook non-veg for people who can bear my cooking, lol. I do consider food is a highly preferential matter at an individual level. We must understand that food at all places are mostly linked to the local and contextual availability of food around. It also depends on what can be cooked and how easily. As an individual, if you’re reading this, I will request you to kindly not to judge a person based on her food choices. Not everyone eats non vegetarian just because they hate animals. There might be a hundred other reasons behind it./

So the next time you see someone eating something that is not akin or culturally acceptable to what you do, do not panic. Let her enjoy the food. You enjoy your plate too. 🙂 I will enjoy my vegetarian thaali too, till my heart agrees to.

Always Ranting , Rantzaada.

This is a continuation of the Rant 46 : How difficult it is to be what I am! -1, the link to which is given below:
https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/09/06/rant-46-how-difficult-it-is-to-be-what-i-am-1/

In the last rant I have written about how it is increasingly difficult for me to sometimes face this world. Such feelings usually give me a magnitude of what mostly happens with the girls in today’s world.

I am a weirdo, as stated by one of my close friends. She says I do not fit into most of the young group categories. I am not a party guy, but I like to dance. I am not a non vegetarian, but enjoy cooking and talking about the taste and delicacies of the meat and fish. I do not drink but I love talking about the ambience and the groups required to have a good mood for drinking. I have often been a problem for my friends.

I am a person hanging between ideals and reality. I am person who is among a generation bearing ideas of change and also getting abused by the yet newer generation to be the carriers of old orthodox thoughts. It is indeed difficult to be a 90’s kid. The previous generation looks down at us as if we are the sole reasons for the degeneration of nearly everything and the newer generation believes we are the ones who make their lives difficult. I know this is difficult and almost similar for every generation. But, maybe they did not write about it. I am.

I am in the zone where at times I realise if all the ideals I live for are even worth it? I am in the zone where there are moments when I if my ideals are a mere constraints to a happy life? I am between people who demostrate it to me every now and then that the life you are living is going to give you just thresholds – thresholds of 200 types for every single work you do. I have people rise and improve in a manner which is not ethical but practical. Is it something I am missing? I do not know.

With habits like these, I often feel myself sidelined. Every single week. Every single month. Every single year. Every passing decade. It might not happen with everyone but people come in my life seeing my happy end and the moment they see the shaded part of my ideals and my habits they seem to drift away. To a more happening world and more brighter and colorful herd. I have lost multiple friends at different stages of my life owing to this.

But everytime, I look back at my journey till now, I feel I have come up well. There will be a lot of promises and examples and instances I will have to share with my future generations, with 99% of them being serious anecdotes and less fun ones. Well whatever happens, at the end of the day I remain who I am, I remain who you are. I am a guy who is trying to be extra sensitive about gender equality, not there completely though. A middle class fellow who is trying hard to understand why middle class is the best breed among all. A Hindu faith holder who is trying to learn that the most common image might not be the one that has to represent you and what is right must be called right, irrespective to where and whom it belongs.

I recently turned 27 and the 28th begun. I hope the coming year brings a lot of more dedication and commitment as far as my ideals and behavior is concerned.

Probably you might have come across many of these points and problems and might be easier for you to connect to it easily. Share this read with people who you think are also in the same boots as mine.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

I believe girls or females are the most vulnerable human beings on earth. Vulnerable to safety and physical harm. Vulnerable to social and family hazards. But there is a class which is vulnerable to social disgust and neglect – atleast in the last 40-50 years.

I am a male, 27 yo, Rajput, Hindu (presumably high caste), hence General category, middle class student. I believe this category of males with neo-ideologies puts us in a very difficult situation.
I will first start from childhood. We have been conditioned to buy things/ask things based strictly on the price and not wether or not we really like/love it. All of us, mostly would have had 1 product everyday that we might have put our hand on and that would have been kept back at the shelve after seeing the price tag. So, we have grown up being kept on one side of the rope, which is called the affordability. An inch to the other side and you will be blamed to be a ward-of-no-use. So being born in a middle class has had its own tolls.

Coming to the fact that I am a male. I am a male who respects females and tries to keep my eyes off them, lest they feel uncomfortable. But being a male in India comes with a certain disgust, especially if you do not belong to “Bravado Guy’s group” who take pride in them being a male and feel they are the superior of the two sexes. Even when you are different from within, you are being looked at with disgust, distrust and more often mistrust. It’s okay, I mean it’s completely fine for other’s to be protective and it’s none of their fault. I have been at houses of my friends and they wont leave the hall with me and my female friend sitting, that’s the distrust I talk about. More often than not, I leave the house before that happens. I try not to go into a friends house in the first place, bdw.

Thirdly, Being a (high caste) general category Hindu. I wear the pride of being a Hindu by my faith and I am completely okay with anyone around me being of any caste or creed or race or religion. I actually do not mind. But every time you are being socially dogged down for belonging to the class that once had sati and widow evils and what not! Hinduism has been an old practice and old things might decay from some ends. But believe me, we the new generations have taken multiple attempts to discontinue the old stigmas.

I will continue this rant tomorrow … See you all.

It was roughly 3am. I was waiting for the EXP 4 bus to arrive on the Kashmere Gate Metro station which would take me to the IGI Airport terminal T1D. The bus arrived a few minutes later and I boarded the bus like a tired old fellow. I went straight and grabbed the first seat of the rear part. I love the elevation it offers. The bus went swiftly across the streets crossing the Red Fort, CP and the Lutyens Delhi. I found something was different about the roads, while I looked at them during the nights. It was a feeling like something is wierd, but I do not know what! Anyways, I kind of ignored it but it was there at the back of my mind. While the bus driver was pacing away the vehicle at about 100 kmph, I saw something which particularly moved me.

The bus was close to the Zakir Hussain Delhi University Library on the intersection of Jawaharlal Nehru Marg and Maharaja Ranjeet Singh Marg. There are a couple of small intersection islands there, which were jampacked with people sleeping. Mostly men. What was more interesting was to note the way they were all sleeping. Most were in shorts with/without shirts. Apart from this it was the way they were all sleeping. Very few of them were sleeping straight. Most of them curved, or in a couched position, or like a bow form. Anything but straight. Suddenly, I realised this is what linked to the wierdness of the roads I saw last.

In Delhi, the road networks bear an un-imaginable load throughout the day. Lakhs of vehicles ply everyday without any break and the roads keep working since 5am to 11pm. No pause, no break. The road seems to be perfectly straight and all levelled up. As the evening dawns and more and more traffic drive as fast as they can, the roads feel the pain. Their edges cramp, the intersections get pulled in and their markings get rubbed off. It’s a inhuman way of serving the humanity.

As soon as the night starts to fade away to lesser traffic and shallower pedestrian volumes , the road emerges in its entirety. One can see all the curves, the edges and the marks of the beautiful roads.

Around the same time, a huge huge part of Delhi’s homeless population is done with their daily works. They go and take bath and freshen up at some municipal tap supply and go have food at some common cooking facility they share. Then, they proceed to their fixed but temporary sleeping spots. Then they arrange their beds by keeping their towels or trousers beneath it and sleep.
Now , once they are deep into their sleep something strange happens and I can now connect what’s similar with the roads. The roads and the sleeping men both appear non-linear. The straight disciplined body lines that worked hard through the day now get the leisure of twisting and turning their bodies under the realm of the open sky.
Roads too, start revealing their contours late nights. You will realise that you never noticed that he road was this wide or had this contour when looked at 500 metres at one go.
These men and the roads both get free and seek compassion when their worst hours are over. Maybe they are into a good dream of the place they belong or their family. What we see during their off times late night are not mundane roads and boring square faced labourers. We see curved roads, roads with lush green edges, road’s with perfectly fresh yellow and red marks. We see men who are playful , who smile, who laugh. Those coolies, labours, mistri, chowkidaar, rediwala all turn to fathers, uncles, brothers , some recent married, some whose wife is expecting her 2nd kid and a few elder ones who have simply lived their lives off the same street.

What they lack during the day infront of the whole world, amidst technology, governments, human rights agencies, labour organisations, etc, they get the same at night, beneath the stars, under the open sky. Freedom of mind.
What do the roads (and the men) need ? They need a little compassion during the day. When they are at work offer th em a glass of cool water, ask them how they are doing. Talk to them about their families. Give them the scope for letting their thoughts free.

Not everything that works or operates under you is supposed to have a downgraded life than yours. They are just doing their part as your doing yours. Share this with people who love the night roads and wish to have a long walk. Suggest them to observe the above when they go out for a late night walk.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Finally home. I stood infront of my door. Trying to remember where I kept my keys this morning when I left. We both had a discussion yesterday and I guess.. yes! There it was. Below the vase near the door. I was happy I found it with the first go today. It is always difficult with a room partner like him. He has lost more than 4 keys and we are both tired of having new duplicates. So we have consensually decided a common location. I hate a life with too much or even budget negativity. Hence, more often than not, I do not make his carelessness an issue.

Mostly not.

But today was a different day.
I was literally fuming. Had a very bad morning trip with the cab , following a heated debate with my colleague early morning and then a bad stint at the product meeting. As if this was not enough, my project manager presented “our” work without any due mentions given to my part. I went straight to her and complained and she just ignored. I knew the day was not going to go better anyways so I went straight inside the director’s office ask to direct an apology from her towards the indifferent behavior she showed. Now as you can guess it too by now, the boss fired back at me stating that I have not been achieving deadlines since quite some time now. I told him that my targets were inflated more than twice on grounds of the extra work I did last week because the manager was away. It was taken for granted that I will keep doing that magnitude of work. This was not fair. NOT AT ALL.

I kind of forget every misfortune if I get good food at regular intervals. I guess even that was not acceptable to the Lord today. While I was very happily having my lunch after such a crazy half day, some one just tumbled with a glass full of water straight into my plate. Scores of sorries, really cute ones, that sounded like flowers to my ears coming straight from the hottest and the most dashing lady at the office. But still it couldn’t bring back my food. So as a symbol of dissent, I stood up, drained the plate in the bin with the wet contents, threw the plate in the dish washer and walked away. She came back requesting me to join her with for lunch, but today was apt for me to be the bad guy.

All gentle , hardworking, modest and relatively simpler guys have one thing in common. The wish to be a badman for a day. OR for sometime. Being the good guy always, mostly lands us into troubles. There are few who recognize your efforts while most sense a chance to exploit.
Exploit your numbness. Exploit your disability to say no at that critical “can you please do this for me” moments and all those requests from random office members with their random personal problems ranging from their stressed and tensed married life to what to look for in career progression.

But today I decided to no more be the good guy around. I need to say no. I need to be more vigilant and charge my extra hours and not do philanthropy for these mean colleagues. I immediately started practicing the NO’s. In the last 23 minutes I had already said no to 3 calls – a credit card request from ICUCI Bank , to whom I straight away told no and did not make any excuse and then block the number. The second call was from my friend who wanted “just 5 minutes” to tell him how a particular global light setting was not working on his render engine. The third call, I was most proud of was from my roommate, the good for nothing fellow who asked me for a drink post office.I said no. Happy satan folks!

Suddenly, I felt a strong aroma around me. I turned back to see.. her…! She sat on the mostly desolate chair next to me and asked me if I could help her with the presentation a little. Argghh.. why you now! I stiffened my heart and said NO!

I saw her through the sides of my right eye. She looked happy. “Thanks, so 5 pm? Before you leave?”
I gave a puzzled look. “Thanks yaa” and she left.

Wait, what just happened? Did I not tell her a no? I did right? Or did I not? Oh God! Arghh. Why do I do this to myself.
4.45 pm. I am pissed with the way I was tricked into breaking my fresh resolution. There was a ping on the gmail.
” 5 pm right?”
“Yea, sure👍”

This is it. The being-satan period for guys like me is usually this long. Anyways, I opened the door and lay down lifeless on the mattress.

It was short. It was liberating though. My tryst with the satan.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

We always keep looking for happy faces, happy people, happy situations, happy moments, happy memories, happy delicacies and nearly everything happy. Here is a list of things that make me happy or atleast I believe they do:

A butterfly on your hands
A parrot repeating what you said
A squirrel on your shoulder and not moving
A puppy on your chest when you wake up and looking right in your eyes with its big black button eyes
A puppy licking your cheeks
A sparrow seeming to look at you
A swarm of ducks moving together at the synchronized pace
A cattle group sitting in muddy ponds and relaxing with their backs on the ground
A group of elephants bathing with the little ones dancing around
A couple of small puppies trying to show domination in a game over each other
A cow giving birth to a calf
A cow licking your hand
A young calf trying to walk on 4 legs for the first time
A baby bird freshly hatched trying to open it’s eyes
A driver returning the bag I left in the rickshaw
A kid studying below the rickshaw driven by his dad
A kid eating lemon and making faces
A kid discovering that tearing pages is fun
A kid trying to eat chocolate all by her own
A kid trying to write the letter A with a fresh new pencil in fresh new over sized uniform
A kid hanging a water bottle from the neck, a small bag on her back bidding her parents good bye in the morning
Someone catching the inflatable balloon for the kid before it flew out of her reach
Someone helping an old person crossing a road and that old person holding tightly
Someone asking the road side kids what would they want to eat
Someone asking the poor slum kids what they want to become and get replies like scientists, doctors and army
Someone taking the 13 year old away from a garbage dump to a school in clean uniform and groomed hair
The sight of a blind kid whose bandage is opened for the first time post operation
The sight of a veteran who can now see after an operation who lost his eyes in the last war
Getting a text from a daughter on the border fighting with the enemies, “I am safe”
Getting a text from your mom who hasn’t been picking up the call since last night while she was alone, “I slept early and the phone was in silent”
Getting a text from the food delivery app, “Your order is about to be delivered in 3 minutes”

There are so many other items too, which I will keep adding in future rants.

The listing of things that make us happy is not an attempt to tell you all what makes me happy or what keeps us all happy, but to provide or maintain a list of items that make us all happy and can keep us (happiness) hydrated in the most difficult of times. When you feel absolutely guilty of something. When you feel absolutely wasted and drained. When you feel you’re cheated or just ignored. When you feel nothing right is about to happen. Open this list and go through. I just wrote this and believe me it made me feel great!

Life will give us drawbacks and lemons at times when you are at your weakest points. You will probably be down with fever in a humid room without electricity when you hear the saddest news of your life. The entire teaching life wants to give us and you and me, is not to stop or frail or frown, but to acknowledge the event, accept it and move on. Things which are supposed to heal will heal, but only with time. No one can do anything to let that heal quicker. So, keep reminding yourself of the good things that are around you. If its not enough , look out for more happier things, because being sad or gloomy is not just enough for life.

Tell me what other things make you happy. I will make sure those are added in the next happiness list rant. Do like and share the post with all your friends.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Bollywood – in it’s entirety has taught us many things, some worth it and some absolutely ridiculous. Like waiting for the girl to do a palat when you are waiting for her or managing to hit 10 boys when they are teasing your girl or making a 360 with your bike very easily without your hair, your jacket or your goggles falling off! There have also been lessons on how you can enter a junior class and talk to the students in another language and tell them that the girl in first year is your crush and no one should look at her and the teacher bloody doesn’t even get the tone! Arghhh… who made her a professor!

But out of all the phenomena depicted, the most romantic, liberating and power-inducing thought is the thought of running away from home. Such thoughts are usually collaborated by a set of two people, usually of the opposite sex. But there are instances, where at times, a person on herself/himself also thinks of running away. Such running away includes locations which are unfortunately mostly expensive foreign locations or sometimes somewhere in some chawl in Borivali or Malad. However, sometimes medium or average options like Mussoorie or Ooty or maybe Khandala have also been suggested, but the recurrences of such locations has usually been low. Some science freaks have seldom also, suggested the possibility of migrating to the moon with the partner. I really hope the further mission of Chandrayaan makes further foray into this possibility.

Running away is no easy task. From great personalities like Kishore Kumar to Yo Yo Honey Singh (Ain’t doing no comparison, so relax), authors and poets have mentioned at elaborate steps of eloping from house. From Chariots of love to Lamborghini, the modes might have changed. But the intentional pretty much remains the same. From a plate of chapati on the moon to A bottle of liquor some bhindi some chapati’s and some FMCG packed items display the large varieties of culinary support these elopers have suggested. However when it comes to financial support, few have shown the source of travel finance – mostly the travel finance and travel fooding and lodging have not been exhaustively covered. There are some instances, where in an old couple or a blind couple also gives some shelter to the couple in their house, which is seldom found in real life. Such couples usually have dogs at their entrance gates and video recording gate locker outside.

So, all in all, I have really been inspired by these stories of elopement and it’s quite natural that I would have dreamt of something similar too, someday, with a dear one. While most of these elopement models have not underlined the basic financial model and exit strategies, I have a clear cut demarcation where romance dies and hardcore management begins. I expect the outcome in my case to be balanced between romance and management. So, the location for my elopement will probably be somewhere in the Carribean islands. It is easier for me to get mixed with the Caribbean race. I can be there with my loved one and can just wear a cheap shirt with a floral print and a short with a plane on it. I might reconsider my vegetarian stance but yes, I might still chose not to drink and smoke.

For the financial part, I plan to start a food outlet, small initially, where we can serve spicy Indian food and savor and plain foods as well. In my dream story, both of us can cook well and can handle different cuisines on different days. We will have a small seat corner and a take away and there will be books, CD’s, Cassettes and VCR’s on record too. You can come and try for your favorite Bollywood numbers. Life should not be pretty difficult once the immigration issues are dealt with. After that we can certainly contact the embassy and ask for a business visa for some years and then go on to apply for citizennship. Maybe this works maybe not. Noone knows.

And then, at the end of the day, we both sit together facing the North star on the beach, and pointing our right hand towards the East and saying there’s our country. India and then come close, kiss each other and promise that we will soon return and have vada pao and idli-sambaar cooked by someone else finally!

Well all of this could have happened pretty early had I not being busied up in life with these academic tenures worth 5 years and then 2 years of job and then 2 years of Post Graduation again. I mean yeah, we seem to be independent, but the moment you plan a 3 day vacation even to Rishikesh, from some God-for-saken-place, there comes a list of 1000 works to be done immediately without delay on the bloody long weekend.

With such constraints, forget Caribbean Islands, even going for a shopping to the nearest city Delhi is a long dreamt scene. We were long independent as citizens, but as individuals I still await Independence. This long weekend is certainly wasted, I will make sure I dont waste the next one, just like I never wasted the next semester and the next month and the next target and the next submission and the next morning.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

I was recently at a concert in New Delhi at the Connaught place. I was pumped up for two reasons – first, I was going to a fusion concert for the first time and second, I was going alone to a concert for the first time.

But as I went inside, I got a third reason to be happy. On the counter as I scanned my QR Code, I was told my seat in the second last section was upgraded to the second session. I never knew Delhi had some perks for stags too. 😛 I went to the second section and had my place there .

It was 10 minutes to go before the show started and I could already see beer glasses being held high up in the air, people talking to each other, whole groups laughing on some petty jokes cracked by someone. There was a couple who stood together , a family of 5 at a corner table seated comfortably having a gala time enjoying, an old defense couple (from their outfit) waiting for an exquisite classic show to come up. There were people. It was a union of people. Happy people. And then, there was me. A person with a square face not knowing probably where the next dinner will be and busy looking at random whats app status on my phone while the world behind me laughed and enjoyed and danced on the pre-show music.

The waiter came to me and asked for drinks. I do not drink. I politely said No. He gave a look and moved on. There was a fellow on the left side who asked me, ” No drinks? You’re going to miss the essence of the fusion for sure!”
“Well, Why not, Idiot!”, I replied. (in my mind)
I smiled at him showing my right hand as a sign of restraint and self-control. I do not think he got what I said. Anyways, I ignored and began looking towards the dias again where the drum and the other instruments were being tuned. The activity on the stage was getting hastier by every passing moment and that signalled that the show might just start any minute.

Finally the beautiful lady host came on the dias. There was a loud roar and the lady was, well, expecting that. A few camera’s clicked. A few whistles thrown at the dias. I ignored and drank my mojito while she spoke. I barely looked at her twice. The artists came up on the dias. After the introduction, the show began.

It was a real blasting start. The music was loud and crisp. The ambiance was eclectic and the crowd really went berserk. But.

There was something that quizzed me. There seemed to be more camera than eyes. People, almost each of them were looking through their camera’s than their eyes. I really looked stupid and very idiotic. I mean, why would you spend so much for this expensive concert and then come here, have another expensive round of drinking exotic fluids and then doing this idioticity of viewing the concert through pictures and concerts.
Some Class A Sapiens also went to the extent of uploading the pics clicked like some 45 seconds back on instagram and believe me, the whole while she kept checking how many people had liked it.

People were busy taking hoardes of pictures, videos, boomerangs, snapchat selfies and god knows what! The only thing they missed is the concert. I went and sat behind the old defense couple because they were the only people who I felt were sincerely “enjoying” the concert. I do not know what people do with so much of images and videos. I mean I would never spend so much and then take videos which are so much similar to the thousands of other and already uploaded youtube videos. Every cafe and bar has thousands of images online on any social media platform. Why would I just add 32 more images to it! Freaking crazy!

After the 30 minutes spell of the concert, there was a break taken by the band. There was a wierd silence in the area. ears had a beep sound ringing still and there was little sweat on the forehead though I was seated for the whole time. As soon as the show paused, the uncle from the couple asked me, “It was brilliant, their performance, wasn’t it?” I replied, “yes, I had never heard them before, I was actually undermining the show and never thought it would bethis good”.

I turned my head away from the table and saw everyone busy with their phones. clikc-edit-upload. Nearly every other face I saw was dabbed into their screens. All the faces had a rectangular lamina of glow on their faces. It looked pretty horrific. A cafe with dim lights and all these hologram-type faces with a rectangular glow. I just walked around to use the loo, when I saw most people were instagramming. I reckoned how crazy people had actually become about instant-gratification. I want likes- NOW! Checking it every 6-7 seconds. Crazy!

soon the other half begun and it ended pretty soon, in another 20 minutes. And post the event, I bid the old couple goodbye. They insisted on a cup of coffee, but I asked to excuse me. I left. It was a good show. But the way people are behaving, soon they will cease to see anything with either of the two eyes. Instead of creating memories, people tend to create images. Instead of living in the moment, people are planning to live somewhere in the future by taking images and videos, to be viewed later on.

I dont know. Maybe I over-react on these issues. But I see them as big issues. I see them as shift of the way of living in the present to living in the future – and all of us know that future never comes. What we all ought to do now, is simply being postponed to be done at some later stage with a much degraded experience. Only if we could learn how to live in the moment, take a few photographs for savouring the memories that you were here. But pay respect to the fact that there are artists performing and that they owe your attention. Camera’s dont make them happy, cheering lips and happy eyes do!

I make a request to everyone out there, if you think what I believe is worth it, stop using your camera to click every single thing. Some experiences are best seen with eyes only. Save the moments in your heart. Click some, but see mostly through your eyes. You might have a high memory storage, but you will end up with less memories.

And yes, the 3rd eye always symbolizes destruction, so better to keep it away as much as possible.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

It was for the 4th time I asked her.
“What is the issue? if you do not tell us or anyone else, how are we going to attempt to solve it?”
She said it again. For the nth time.
“Leave me, I am a wasted girl. I cannot do anything.”
I had been trying to talk to her. Convince her to tell me her problems. Her parents too were busy trying to do the same and had finally given up on her. They asked me if I could help her open up.
I asked her, if she wanted coffee. She said yes. I went in, tore apart a coffee pouch, poured hot milk into a large glass. I walked up to her. Sat beside her. She took the glass.
15 minutes of absolute silence. I guess she used the coffee as an hourglass, the longer it stays, the longer she could avoid me to speak.

When the coffee was over, I took the glass, kept it back in the kitchen. Walked up to her again. Her expressions clearly showed that she was already making herself ready to not reply to any of what I would ask and shut herself up. I went to her, took my slippers and went to the balcony.

For people who might want to fire me at why was I trying to poke up a person in depression. She was not in depression. She just had this strange feeling with herself, that she does not find it very very easy to open up with people. And, to me and her parents, both, that is absolutely fine. No staying on the fact, that every single human is allowed to have a life they want to – introvert or extroverts.
But then, there are things called relationships – Parents, friends or siblings. When there is something that has grown to an extent of worrying them and worrying to a great degree, I do not get why I cannot struggle a little and sneak out for a moment. Addresss their concerns and then again go back to the little cocoon.

Such behaviors are mostly not by birth and even they will accept that. Some event or events or chain of successive events turn you to an introvert. But while a person is an introvert, she also has the right to not hurt someone. Just like, me being a blabber mouth do not have the license to hurt someone. That clause is applicable to the whole gamut of humans.

“I am asking this for the last time, will you share or tell why you’re not going to office? Is there something that’s wrong at work, or something that’s troubling you in the conveyance or is it just that you do not want to work? There must be something!”

I got the same reply,” No! Leave me. I cannot work. I am not worth it. No one should expect anything from me. Please leave.”

It was beyond me this time.

I held her face.

“Look at me! Listen. You are not wasted! Do you hear this? You are not wasted! Not even a cent. Whatever it is that makes you feel shut inside, I dont care. But you are not worthless. Every time you say you are worthless you are disregarding the years of effort your parents have put into you. Everytime you say you’re not worth it, you are putting everything you have worked for and worked hard for till now. Nothing, I repeat, nothing ever in this world will be big enough or traumatic enough to bring you down from a bright and intelligent lady that you are.”

I pulled back my hands from her face. Started to walk down to the balcony. I had to speak up more.

“You say nobody should expect a thing from you? How would I forget when I was deep into trouble and you pulled me out of it bit by bit? How can I forget you nearly left attending your own classes because me and Rohit had met with a severe accident and were admitted for 2 weeks?”

” You are not what you’re trying to be! You’re certainly an introvert and we all accept that. Taken. But. But you’re not a worthless girl. No girl who has worked so hard under such tough circumstances can be worthless. In a stream of engineering dominated by males you rose like a star. You’re a bloody gold medallist and a taekwondo champion. So do not give me that BS that you are worthless.

See I do not know what’s wrong with you. I also do not know if it is depression or what. But I do know one thing that you could be open and conversant with atleast your parents. If is something you cannot share with them, then I am sure you can with any of us four. We have seen the worst of shit together. We will see it together too. You need to talk to us. Someone of us.”

I really do not know what all this did to her, of even if it did something. But there is one thing I seriously cannot understand. When you see the closest people around you who, you are sure are all for your welfare and betterment, beg you to share your problem,what possibly can lead you to not speak a word? Maybe I am being insensitive to a very sensitive issue, but one thing I know for sure. However sensitive the condition or the state is, it is always better to take a step forward. Ofcourse it will be very tough and maybe not the real you, but all of us take tough steps to come out of bad situations don’t we? So i believe she should also have come out of her own shell, and tell us what was wrong so we could sort it out together.

Anyways, I was already here for 3 hours now and her house-owner won’t allow me to stay post 10pm.
“I am leaving now, you need something tomorrow morning?”
“Naa.. I am fine”
“Sure?”
“YEA! :)”

I looked at her again with a hope she would open up maybe now that I was about to leave. But same square face.
I started walking down. Took off the stand from my bike. Took it out on the road. Stopped and looked up at her balcony. She was not there. She usually would stand when either of me, Rohit or Tiara would leave. I was in despair. Just as I pressed autostart, I received a message.

1 Message received.
I opened her conversation.
Ek baat sunoge? 😉

I knew this idiot would do this. Now bear her and her stupid house owner for the whole night. She will check us 32 times. I took my phone and asked Rohit and Tiara to join as well. I was happy though. Best friends like her don’t look good when they are sad.

The only sadness and frown you like on their faces is when you gave them one. 😛 Lol
I rung the door bell. I looked at her. She opened the door and went back. She opened the door, but did not close it. It was a good sign. 🙂

We might have heard a lot many times that people who need space must be left alone. But then there is a stage when the stage turns to a gap and that is precisely where friends or anyone close must step in. Give your feedback on what you felt about the rant and share it.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Disclaimer and Cautionary note: This post does not mean to generalise each one of the real warriors but is a representation of my irk for those whom I call masked wolves. Read the full rant and you will understand what I mean by the masked wolves.

Aug 23, 2019.
I just signed the petition “Stop the burning of the Amazon rainforest!” and wanted to see if you could help by adding your name.Our goal is to reach 500,000 signatures and we need more support. You can read more and sign the petition here:
http://www.somerandomlink.com

I received this mail from 14 different contacts on 22nd, 23rd and the 24th August. I was very happy to see even the ones whom I would never expect to be even caring for this. They also had put up whatsapp status and Instagram stories, plus sent email notifications to people showing their concern on the Amazon fires. Well, I went ahead and signed the petition. I usually do them, although I am never sure of what it actually does or if any of the petitions ever made a difference.

There was one gentleman, he who must not be named, who was very very surprisingly on the list of people who sent me this. He is a person of immense (lose) character as far as wasting resources and specially water and food is concerned. He is a person who cannot bear the heat above 17 degree C . He is a person who can throw a full plate of food just because he thinks its only the sweet that is worth eating. He is a man of abundance and prosperous backgrounds. I have done my bit in the past few years to make him understand that wasting food or water or power for that purpose, is a dis-service to the nation and the world on whole, which is comfortably refutes because he believes he has the right to use things the way he wants, just because he has payed for it. Such people may be seen roaming around in Mussoorie in rented cars, window shields up and AC on, just because they paid extra for an AC car.

And it is not his character that is of any concern to me. There are people who will not improve whatever comes to them. So that is not an issue (for the time being). What tenses me most is the appearance they make on social media and in academic purposes. On Social media, you name it – FB, Insta, twitter, LinekdIn, anywhere, he posted his concerns about the Amazon. About how the fires had been burning the lungs of the earth that gave 20% of the oxygen. Great! Fantastic! Such movements must be strengthened by public participation. It was only the public pressure that helped this create the global stir that forced the establishments to look into it!

But what is the solution? To keep letting these things happen and then make a large protest, make petitions send mails update Social media? no. Never. It can not. It should not.

We need to understand why these things happen. I had a conversation with this gentleman today after he laughed and Lol’d on a whatsapp status I posted that showed a couple of tetrapacks and a plastic wrapper thrown in the canteen. His blunt question was why should a customer throw this when there is already a sweeper to clean it? I replied with a 🙂 and left the conversation. I thought I’d better write a rant and convey the message to more sensible people than to waste my words and energy there.

There can be a genuine question in minds of many – that how are we all related to the Amazon fires? Those fires were supposedely created by businesses to make land for cattle rearing. So if I am not directly into it, I should not be having a concern to it, right?

Well then why do we study Hitler? Why do we study the European Invasion of the Indian subcontinent? We study them so that we are aware of any similar situation that might occur in and around us.

India, if so our interests are, is facing water crunch of unprecedented levels. I repeat, India is facing water crisis of unprecendented levels. Reasons? Is my habit of washing hands with 10 ltr of running water an issue? Individually, it is not. But with 125 crore+ people wasting 10 ltr per day, the wastage is a whopping 1,250 Billion ltres of water and that’s just 10 ltrs that we usually waste while washing hands. Cut away your luxurious flushings of 16-25ltrs each even while you take a little 2s pee, or even sometimes without using the WC. Flush because it’s supposed to be!

Most of the tap water that you and me and most of us waste is actually potable water (water that is fit for drinking) by the standards for most of our lower economic population. The water that you just let run down the wash basin because you were busy watching the pimple around your nose, could have been all the poor chap wanted when he got a cut on his left knee and there were flies all around the wound just because he could not find clear water to dress the wound.

That was water. Also, there is another big issue, especially among the literates and the rich is the disposal of waste in a dustbin. It is really no big deal. With India having come a long way in our Solid waste management in the last few decades, this should not be a real issue , now. Still you see, in canteens, in shops, inside classrooms, inside libraries, sometimes pushed into the steel rods of the desks, etc. The leaving of these things inside the class is not a real issue, they would be cleaned later or sooner by the helping staff. But the major issue is the pshychology, that leaving the chips packet or the tea cup or the juice tetrapack back there and not disposing it off is ok! These are the people who throw a glass out their trek in the mountains, or leave a torn shoe on the forest reserve.

I cannot possibly discuss all the issues in one rant. Rants are not made for it. Enough literature is available online and I would not be the happiest one to add another one to it. What my concerns are and what I request to all is (and this is not a petition, so you can ignore) is please do understand, we are sitting on an active volcano which can burst any freaking moment, if appropriate actions are not taken today, and why today, RIGHT NOW!

I am interested, but what to do to reverse the global disturbance? WELL NOTHING MUCH.
Start by doing the following:
1. Switch off any electrical appliance when not in use.
2. Become a water miser. Let people mock you. When they mock tell them I have saved enough water for a kid to take bath who could not bathe and is impending an epidemic.
3. Man proposes, God disposes is a concept of past. Now, if man proposes, she/he must dispose too. Dispose every bit of plastic/cups/tetra/paper/ ill thoughts to the dustbins around. If you dont find any, wait. Keep it in your bag or in the pockets. You will not end up with a disease if you did that.
4. Air Conditioners. I just cannot repeat this enough number of times. When you do not need an AC, dont use it. If you need it, use it at 25. If you need some cooling even lower than that, remember there are 8 integers between 25 and 16. Below 25, its not 16 directly.

These steps might look small, but if done by even 10% of our 125 Bn people religiously, will surely bring us far from the danger. There are other macro-measures too, but they will follow if these are performed well.

Share this with any friend of yours who you think is guilty of above and needs to read this.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

I have had a pretty average middle class regular childhood with mostly measured facilities and measured limitations. We have not been brought the usual way of social hypes and global trends. We bought what we needed and ate what we loved. We went where we dreamt to and not what was famous. We used to talk to people in our colonies and fill our slambooks with the best people in our lives, not taking autographs of the best people in other’s lives. Basically, most of us, in our childhood were free from hypes.

However, some hypes like WWF and the Commando games still existed, but were limited to only the upper middle class and to us only some finer stories would reach at school. This habit of keeping away the hypes from our life was really an instrumental one and resulted in the way we grew. We were always reminded the stretch of our shoes and we warned not to foray into lands of uncertainty. This will be something I wish I do not dawn upon the next generation.

Eventually, the attitude of not going with the hype turned into an attitude of going against the hype. I am no one and possibly not eligible to judge if this attitude of mine is justified or not. But there is something that stops me from approaching over-hyped things. Take anything for instance: The most over-hyped new-comer into my class and be made my bench partner, I would not talk to her because everyone else in the class did. The most hyped senior would come to the class for monitoring and I would not listen or seem interested in listening to what he had to say, because everyone else was listening like a dead fan. The most recent Leonardo movie which I was waiting for years now, since it was first announced, I could not just, just ever see it, just because it was so so so much hyped and stories about how great some people who could see it in the first day first show were and then the loads of conditions put that whoever did not see it was the person fixed to lose.

All of these, and so much more, till date fix me out from anything that is over-hyped. When I entered senior-secondary, there was some weird surge of listening to English songs in my batch. Something weird happened and suddenly every other batch mate on earth was listening to English bands and songs. Not that I have a problem with English songs, but my point of contention was the intent with which they were all listening to it. To be just be eligible to stand in a crowd of 10 students and say that I too, listened to these bands and how awesome they were. Similar thing had happened when Harry Potter begun its journey somewhere in my 6-7th class.

This characteristic trait of mine followed me wherever I went. But this brought into me the idea of a distinctive personality. A personality like no other would have. I do things which you might not expect and I don’t do many things which would be considered default just by looking at me. Such are the features of a anti-hype kid.

By the time I entered Under-graduate, I realized one thing. It’s difficult to stand alone and walk by your own principles, while it was easier to just walk in a big heap of commoners and not really care about what their individual thoughts were. In college, I was repeatedly told you would get addicted to something or the other by the time you leave this college. It was an engineering college and you are studying architecture. Hype Hype hype hypes!! Too much hype over one simple thing. Every time someone would tell me I would not be able to keep myself away, my not so determined mind, went a little more firm. I also heard people telling me one cannot cross UG without getting addicted to computer games or binge watching seasons – GOT, HIMYM or Friends! I did.

And believe me, it was not for showing stuff to someone , that I achieved or crossed the stage without getting addicted to, but simply because these things were hyped to such an extent that my mind actually rejected these things automatically and when your mind rejects it, its not going to drip in anymore in your life. The urge to do that, ceases to exist.

This feature of my character, I again repeat, is not deemed by me to be correct or ideal or incorrect. I am just keeping it the way it is. This habit of sailing against the hypes has kept me from going to GOA, visiting Hampi, eating Pizza’s quite often, CCD and so many other such things.. The list is countless. But I am glad in place of Goa I have discovered so many unknown desolate serene silent beaches along the Eastern coast of Tamil Nadu, in place of Hampi, I have visited Badami, Pattadakkal and numerous other empires. In place of Pizza’s I have developed a taste for Thatte idlis and for CCD, there was always a cup of Filter Coffee available. I never really missed the former ones. But I surely could keep myself away from the hypes.

I again repeat, for the 4th time. This habit may be nothing more than my adamant behavior to keep myself away from the crowd -and may or may not be deemed correct. It is good to have our individual behaviours and features. 🙂

Comment any such strange or unique features that you have and what brought or developed them in you. If you too have this habit of rushing against the hype or if any friend has such behaviour share it with them.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

What is a day? A week? A month? A year??
What is a comparatively easier option for considering as a unit?
There are 365 days (366 in a leap year)
There are 52 weeks
There are 12 months, or
Lets come down to 8760 hours
or 5,25,600 minutes, or 3, 15,36,600 (some like 3.15 crore, more than the population of Delhi :P)

So, if you were being asked to take on of these options as the primary unit to plan a year for an individual, what would you take?
I would straight forward go to a week. There are 52 weeks. It’s easy to plan it out and it also serves with the option of having flexibility. What fails on a Wednesday can be made up for on the weekend and so on. But there is one very big issue with this planning. The sense of a day is what we are all basically tuned with and the moment we shift to a weekly basis, the sense of body clock and clock discipline diminishes. Seems to cut you off from the society and the loved ones. Hence, after all the practices and the hit and trials, I have come to accept the fact that out of all metrics of time, it is the day which serves best. No wonder why most of the schedules around us are set on a daily format.
I am sure no one would have gone with the hourly/Minute/ Second wise scheduling.. An hourly scheduling might work in some cases, but minute wise might really be a tough ask for a human on earth. 😀

So, it was not long back when I was completely convinced of the fact that living life on a daily basis was the true fit for myself. My own self. Hence, this must not be taken as a sermon for time management. I am just sharing my experiences and your or someone else’s might be completely different as well.

I have realized it now that life is nothing but a number of years. Each year, a bouquet. A bouquet of 365 days (or 366 days). Each of these days have multiple petals, like the hours. Some flowers are aromatic while some are visually more pleasing. Some are medicinal in nature and with a blunt aesthetic, while others are incredibly pretty but not healthy to have it around. Some flowers are pretty but thorny, while some are coated with a soft layer like fur on the stem where you hold it. The bouquet has every variety, after all 365 is not a small number.

I believe a year is a also akin to a garland. A garland of a number of days. Each day being a bead. A bead of multiple memories. White beads, dark beads, colorful beads, multicolored beads, textured ones, de-formed but important beads, lustrous beads, dull beads, etc. All these beads are formed by the multiple memories you share with your self, the special ones, the people around, known or unknown. Also, how you put the beads is also another important factor to what your love for the garland will be.

Some fragile beads will be put with utmost care. The beads very strong will be dropped from a height. Some will be difficult to rope in and will require a needle. Some beads you will put with your loved ones, smiling, sharing laughs, sharing remorse, looking into their eyes. Some beads you will be putting in with your colleagues and subordinates an rustic bosses, with all the office tensions and the work enthusiasm.

Most of us, while beading the memories in, keep checking about the past beads or keep checking if the beads are in place, or whether the colors look in harmony or not. We have done this all our lives. Little do we understand that today is what matters. Everyday in the past was once a today and everyday in the future will once be a today. It is simply put by many philosophers, leaders, performers,etc. But surely it is easier said than done.

Sometimes, I also wonder if I will ever be able to view the garland in its entirety? Will the whole garland really matter? At the end of a year, the garland will simply become another unit to be put in the greater frame of life. So lets take the basic frame. If every single bead is carefully and happily put in, the entire garland will be beautiful and if a number of garlands are beautiful, the entire gamut of life will be beautiful too.

So, taking all this in consideration, its probably the most important change we now need to bring into our individual lives, our family interests, social interest, our national interests, the global interests and nearly everything else. Complete justice to the present is the only way we can make it. Only then there will be a complete justice to the 24 hours, which time gives us as a gift of life.

I am far, far away from completely being able to accept this principle, but I have started walking in that direction, making beads with my most special ones and the garland is forming, one day at a time. I am not sure, if the garland will be acceptable, okay or will be discarded, but one thing is sure. All my beads will be and must be beautiful.

Share your views on this and recommend the write up to someone who keeps worrying for the future and the past.
Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

A similar rant for a better understanding of short term planning is
https://the11oclockdiary.home.blog/2019/08/08/rant-17-being-myopic-and-killing-the-stigma-around-it/

Both of them read together would give a completer picture of the author’s ideas.

I invite all budding writers and even those who used to write and now are out of touch to write for the blog as a guest writer. You can rant about an issue you face or just a normal subject and write it in about 1200-1500 words. Please feel free to reach out by commenting below or through the blog contact. Guest entries are warmly welcomed.

September 2016, Pondicherry Promenade Beach.

Cool breeze (quite strong).
Clear night sky. A boat at a distance in the sea. Only a frail streak of light visible.
3 friends sitting after a tiring whole day of biking from Pondi to Auroville and back.

Kya mujhe pyar hai (Woh Lamhe, 2006,kk) <background music on my speaker>
“Guys!”, I said in a placid tone.
“hmm?”, Sameer said.
“Don’t you guys just feel like being transported to 2006-08 when you hear these songs from the KK-Imran Hashmi-Himesh Reshamiya era?”, I asked in all excitement.

awkward silence.

“Nahi bhai, doesn’t happen.”, Sameer said.
“Ab just contain your bollywood romance in you and be quiet!”, Neeraj said.
“These songs just take me to that time frame. 10th class. Multiple crushes. Academic Pressure. Being like the kind of the High school. Minister-ship in Council. Close contacts with teachers to get any difficult work done. Settings with the lab assistant. Everything just comes right infront my eyes. I don’t know what’s wrong with you guys!”, I presented my case with confidence.
“EH, Neeraj let’s leave him here and move”.
They both stood and moved some 10m away. Strange. Some people will never get the romance in Bollywood songs.
In the mean time, this song was over. I surfed through my playlist.
Tu hi Meri Shab hai, (Gangster,2006, KK)
I hit play, looked at the other two guys, smirked and increased the volume. Burn haters, BURN!

I don’t really know how many of you feel this way, but for me, music for me seems to come with a timestamp. I usually associate music with the time, the people around, the environment and sometimes even the senses like touch, feel, smell, excitement, pain, sorrow, etc. Maybe this is common or maybe it’s just me. I have been ridiculed more than accepted on this trait of mine. 😀

Like, my childhood is laden with Kumar Sanu, Alka Yagnik and Udit Narayan songs. There are typical songs which are connected to typical scenes in my life. These memoirs are usually very strong and pretty much protected in my memory. I can connect the exact timestamps related to a some of them. I am no music expert, but yes an avid listener of music, mostly bollywood and hindi songs till I started my Undergraduate studies.

Like, for instance, Dekho two-thousand zamana aagaya (MELA, Aamir Khan) is connected with me writing Welcome 2kY on the street at 12am on 1st January 2000. It was a wonderful experience that our generation could have. Changing of a millennium. I have clear memories of that night. Other prominent songs that played that night were from Sarfarosh movie, Vaastav and Hum Dil de chuke sanam. I hope you are getting the musical environment I am talking about. I was a class 2 student and took great pride whenever I got a chance to write something in English on the road with limestone paste.

Another musical phase etched in my memory is the period of 2005. Possibly because I bought my first PC then. It had some songs stored by default. Songs like those from Dhoom, Dhol, Kisna , Veer Zaara, Main hoon na, etc were on the full rise. I was in class 8 and did not really care a lot about romantic songs. I found them good but was not qualified enought to understand it. Favourite songs then were the ones from Dhoom, Main Hoon Na, Kisna and Swades. Whenever I hear Dhoom Machale, Dhoom (Dhoom, 2004) I instantly feel that I am sitting infront of the Samsung 17″ monitor with my feet on the UPS and Flat Frontech speakers with a woofer below playing the song. On the screen, is the randomly colored 3-D plumbing pipes coming (I never realised I would actually be making plumbing drawings some day).

Another strong correlation with songs come up during the 2008-09 phase. Movies like Om Shanti Om, Ghajini, Rab ne bana di jodi, Jodha Akbar had given us enough romantic songs on whose ground our stories could develop. 😀 Plus there were energy packed songs also, which we zeroed in for our events and farewells and get-togethers. I play those songs, and straight to 2008! Lol.

Offlate, the latest songs that have stuck on the timeline are the songs from Article 15 and Kabir Singh, while the summers of 2019. They will be remembered in the same manner as the others listed above.

Songs just don’t stick to a particular time without any reason. They get stuck when you get fully involved in each of the words, in the music in the first 20s and the last 10s. In the lyrical expressions and sometimes the videography related to it. Sometimes, its could be a background song when you spent your time with the special one. Somedays, it might be the song in the car when you bid farewell to your friend and somedays it can be simply a song from the local music store while you first saw your crush (with her dad :P).

Music makes our lives better, often! For me, music has been a refuge to all my problems. Single point refuge till quite recent. I do keep different songs for different moods and different emotions.

“Are you done with your madhubala dilip kumar, bro?”, Neeraj said.
“We are leaving for the hotel, come back soon”, Sameer shouted too.

I stood up, brushed off my shorts, kept the speaker in the pocket and walked after them.

….mitti ki hai jo khusboo, tu kaise bhulaega, tu chahe kahi jae, tu laut ke aega…. (Swadesh, 2004)
___________________________________________________________________________

Do let me know if you liked this writeup. Tell me in the comments if there are typical songs attached to your timeline too. Share this post with someone with whom you share a special song from a special era. 🙂

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

What do you feel the best about the night sky?

For me it is the moon. Also, sometimes I like it just empty. Without a moon. It then acts like a black screen. You must’ve seen one of those black screens in cricket matches on both ends of the pitch, at the boundary. It is called a sight screen. Truly so. It allows you to look into that direction and focus on the object. Basically what it does is – out of the foreground and the background, it nullifies your background so that you can focus completely on the bowl.

The night sky is also a type of sight screen. Where you can imagine whatever you want while looking at the sky.

Most of the literature, shayari, drama plots and everything which has to do with the left part of your brain, in history, has come with an association of staring in the sky. Be it Ghalib’s shayari, Van gogh’s Starry night or the open air theatre’s – most of the art and emotions have their genesis in the night. Darkness allows you to imagine what you want to. This can, though, sway in both directions – positive and negative.

Apart from the dark night, without the moon, the one with the moon is a more preferred view for me. People have often complained that this interest of mine is a little feminine and does call for a talk with a psychologist! Guess what! I don’t care.

I will tell you a few things about the moon. I have often shared this with nearly all the close friends I have. The moon is the only thing that you can see comfortably from this Earth in the night sky. When two people (who are in the same time zone, ofcourse) look at the sky, they can gaze at the same moon. Possibly, before all this technology and video calls and conferences begun, moon would be the only thing which two people could see together at the same time. What you see is exactly what the other person sees too. That is why probably, all the love stories, involve people talking to the moon, sending messages across and trying to imagine someone on the moon,etc. All this happens, because, as I earlier said, a night sky is a brilliant sight screen. Allows you to focus.

The moon is beautiful and it will remain beautiful to all ages to come. However technically advanced we become. If moon can reflect the sunlight to earth, can it not reflect the emotions of two people from a point A to point B? Think about it. If you are emotionally motivated, it will.

The moon also gives you important life lessons. The sun is a star. It is not a good idol. Not everyone can be a star. The moon is like an average earthly human. It teaches that life is not a regular shining policy and that you do not have uniform hours of shining and not shining. It teaches us, there will be hours when you shine and also how much you shine will change. There will be days when even after giving it your all, your shine will keep decreasing and one day it will just go off. Complete darkness. But then, that is the signal that the next day will be a positive crescent. It will begin the ascent. But do not overshoot. Soon, when it will seem to be the best day of your life, the very next day the descent will begin.

And the most important lesson out of the ascent and descent cycle (the lunar cycle) is that this is not a one day thing. It will keep repeating till the last day of your life. So do not worry, you will shine differently on different days, you will be off somedays and this on/off will keep happening forever. Change is the only thing that is constant.

Have you ever tried to look at the half moon? Like a really focused look? I have observed this, that when you really gaze at the missing part of the moon, slowly within a few seconds, the everything will start appearing fadedd off and only that missing part will emerge. A faint light boundary. Isn’t this what our life does to us? When we face our difficulties with great passion and positivity we do see that missing part emerge after some time, a faint line though, but makes you cheer up. Everything else, all the problems will appear to vanish (they would not, actually) and a few faint lines of hope will become visible. And it those lines, or the hope of the period of ascent that keeps you and me and all of us working.

The moon is, indeed a wonderful thing. It has been the source of everything lovely that has happened to human from the left side of the brain.

Go out. Look at the sky. Try to figure out what you want to see in the moon. Think of it and see. Want to send an emotion to someone? Ask the person to come out and look at the moon together. Say nothing. Just stay silent and just let each other be. It is a wonderful feeling.

Share your experiences about the moon and press the like button below if you love today’s subject.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada!

9:45 AM, Thursday.

Seeing the rains outside the glazing. Hot coffee in the right hand. A little more than half the mug . I took a sip. Looked at the new joinee on the extreme end of my aisle. Smiled. She smiled back to. Waived my hand like I would say, Hey Tanisha, Good morning. Very soon, I hope, I will!

Phone rings.
“Tarun please come to my cabin”
“ok sir”

Morning calls from the boss are usually a sign of the impending danger. Something that is under all circumstances going to ruin the rest of the day. I looked at my workstation. Opened the drawer, took the scribble pad, kept the half filled coffee mug back on the desk and stood up. Revised all mistakes from yesterday and all the work I did for the last 3 weeks and if there was a mistake who was at fault. Uh, also I revised the days I went home before 6 and the reasons for it. When you visit your boss early morning, you gotta be ready for nearly every question.

I walk through the aisle end, and passed from behind Tanisha. I wanted to look back at her and smile, but I had to keep the little gap.After all, I was the senior, 4 years! As I walked down the central aisle, everyone looked amazed and surprised. They waited, as if in anticipation, to the action that was about tofollow. They obviously knew something that I did not know. I stopped and asked,” Ey Santhosh, what’s the matter man?”

“Jeevan had a bad fight with madam today morning and then now he has called you. Take care”, and he laughed.

Ok, so now I know why everyone was snuggling. Eh, never mind. I have bee rebuked too many times for another one to sound rude.

knock knock
“Is it Tarun?”
“Yes Sir”
“come in”

I went in.
He asked me to sit and started (appeared to be) working on his system. He would just refresh on the desktop, open the folder, go to some drive and come back and close it. He did this entire cycle 2-3 times and I tried to sit quietly. This is the way they make your realise that you’re indeed taking a big chunk of their times of hard work.
He finally looked at me.

“Oh Tarun, all well?”, he asked while looking for some imaginary folder in the drawer behind his chair. He won’t sit idle infront of me. Never. He will make me realise all the time, how idle I am and how busy he is. Because HE IS THE BOSS!

“Yes Sir, Perfectly fine Sir. Is there something you want to talk about?”, I asked.

“Of course, why would I else call you in such tight time consntraints? I have been getting this warning message from the HR that you have been leaving the office for lunch 5 mnutes before and come precisely 10-15 minutes late everyday. Every Single Goddam Day! What is the reason, Tarun?”

“Sir, I really don’t know how to put this up, but…..”

“See Tarun, one thing. I have not called you here to make stories and neither am I interested in listening to them. There is fixed commitment policy our company follows and if you really have a problem of some serious magnitude, we’d better let you go!”

“…we’d better let you…. what?” I was shocked at what he just said.

“Let you go means we provide and encourage you to look for other better and promising opportunities in your professional life”,that to me felt like a burning bullet on my face.

“There are also a few things we have observed about you. You are not helping us keep our office values. I have told you often not to keep those alien objects on your desk, it deviates people and makes them anxious as if they are sad they don’t have them . Those decorations look better in our homes and not office. I hope you are getting it. I hope you will listen to what we are trying to request and heed to it, so that it is a more healthy 5th year of you at your office.” He said in a grumpy tone, showing despair on his face.

I said sorry and stood up and opened the door back. He must have been furious at the way I exited. But it was beyond the point of my patience. I started walking back towards my workstation. With heavy steps. Fuming eyes. Not looking at anyone.

I hate the way he intervenes in every way in some of the employers lives, including me. Our weekend parties and why they were not healthy, our dress habits and why they were not professional and why we must dress the way he does. All the subordinate staff in this office under him, are simply listening with a wrong ear. He has this crazy habit of coming 5 minutes early, come down to the lounge.Sit there with a newspaper and then look at everyone with the specs down on the nose, who comes in late. Even 1 minute late. During the entire day, he will spam all the works with his absolutely zero motivational phrases, rather negative phrases like, Can you distance away from the phone a little? Can you please work and not indulge into anything which distracts you? etc.

I come back to my workstation. Still far from a calm mind. Extremely pissed off over the cry and shout he makes on petty things and not consider my work output. I have been working continuously for this company and I suddenly become a weak link just because a person who took charge 6 months back, thinks I am not worthy of it?

I cannot work for a boss like him, given that he is on a contract of 3 years! 3 years with a boss like him, neh!! Never.

I am a senior to many of my junior colleagues. Seniors at a workplace must take a special trust, an additional trust into them. It is only trust and a little freedom to create their own corners and a little belief that they will do the work assigned to them without being chased at. None of my previous bosses or even me have tried to micro-manage things at this level, the way he does! I mean he does not have any right to comment about my pictures and photographs and the other objects which are souvenir from my mom. He just cannot tell me what I keep on my table. This is it! I had been thinking of doing this and let’s get rid of this.

I open the “resig.doc” file. ctrl+P > Print.

While I move to the printer to take the printout, the whole staff gazes me. Tanisha too. I look at her. She comes to the printer.

“Sir, you please come and sit” , she takes the printout of the resignation letter.
I could not say anything but walk with her. She said just one sentence, but it felt so soft. Like a gush of cool breeze.

“Sir, don’t worry”, she said, while she gave me my coffee mug back. I saw one of my colleagues hinting at her to give me water. She brought some water and asked me to drink water first. I took the letter, tore it and threw it in the dustbin.

I looked at Tanisha and smiled. She smiled too.

“Thanks Tanisha!”

She just smiled. She did not speak. Like every other time. She stood and went back to her seat. I kept looking at her. I waived my hands like I would say, to sit with me some for a little longer. But maybe some other day!

Micro-management at workplaces by bosses is growing to become one of the biggest reasons second only to stress on performance. If you have any instance of someone trying to micro-manage you, leave a comment below. Share this with all your colleagues who face the same.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

I am doing the 30th rant today, and believe me, the kind of world we are living in each one of us can rant about something or the other. The only reason that some do write and most of us do not is the time factor. There is one more thing, a very big push factor which is required to let you keep writing.

Initially I had appreciations in limited numbers from close friends and some benvolent friends who took the pain to click on the link, open the blog and go through through the 5-minute read. Amongst people, who now even read news on Instagram, hits the ❤ button and moves on, having 40-50 odd people reach your blog, read it and reply back with some or the other feedback is really encouraging. In the past two weeks, I have been receiving questions like,

1. I thought you’d stop by 20 or something, what keeps you going?
2. Everyday? Dude.. how do you get the matter
3. Are you really planning this for the long term or you’re just letting this happen for as long as it can?
and several such questions, raising doubts and concerns over my writing and ranting daily. I will share you a secret that keep me writing apart from all your motivational, happy and sometimes emotional feedbacks, makes me sit on my chair at 10pm and make me write every day without fail. I had read somewhere, that if you do something continuously for 21 days, it becomes a habit and I cannot agree to this more. So, come lets meet my friend, who is behind all this ranting and stuff!

I never understood when I had heard of big and successful people carrying worthlessly simple things with them everywhere – eg, a child’s painting, a handkerchief, a broken piece of window pane, a a pencil, a single sock out of a pair, or something similar. I have seen an author once, who used to carry a peacock feather in his diary which he believed helped him write. Another hockey player once told on national television that he always keeps one surviving sock of his childhood (the other one of which was burnt by his coach) saying he would never ever play well. There are small things sometimes which create such a niche in your brain, heart and mind which not even the biggest of the corporate or personal life trainers can do.

Meet my mate, GEE! She has been with me since a good 2 months now. I got her from a stationary shop in Panchkula. I wanted to fix her on my work station and let her be herself. The shopkeeper told I could hang a pen or a cutter on to it, but I preferred to keep her all free. Sometimes, it is just better to leave people be themselves. But somehow, the suction cup could not hold on to the wall for long. It used to come down every now and then. I then kept it infront of my blue JBL Bluetooth-speaker and there she stood. In pride, without a suction cup and on her own. The blue background gave her bright colors a fantastic contrast. I was elated to feel that probably the suction cup was not the best way to have her around. She was best, left to herself with just a little support.

When I came back to college, I kept her on my workstation in my hostel room and believe me she is the only thing which is so colorful. Every time I see her, I feel honored, pleased and inspired. A bee is a specie which is having the most difficult times on the planet earth now. Some people are trying to protect them, but at large, they are getting extinct one specie after another. But look at her, she stands straight on my table and looks at me with that big great smile. No conditions, not demands! Just big long smiles 24×7. I promised her I will write at least some fixed quantity of rants without stopping everyday. And since then, every night at 10, she sits near my laptop and watches me write. Write continuously, typing vigorously, sometimes with a smile on my face, sometimes anger and sometimes wet eyes. But she does not lose her threshold. She keeps smiling. She knows probably, her smile is all I need to survive this 1 hour of rigorous on the spot writing. Her round big eyes are the only eyes which keep telling me to go on and on and on and on and not stop till I reach where I promised to.

Each one of us, has something or the other object/person/place in your life which consciously / unconsciously we all are seeking to. For that extra push of motivation, for that extra smile and for that extra life.

Give a feedback on the rant and tell me if you too have something which is a lucky charm or an inspirational source to you and something that keeps you going. I will be longing for your responses.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

How many of you know that a glass half filled is also half empty?
How many of you know that a soldier of another army is also a patriot, but of that country?
How many of you know that a pet dog barking at you when you enter a house, is not bad but just being faithful and alert for the owners?

Pretty mundane stuff right? I mean, I might have already lost you by this time in this rant. Why would someone repeat such things like the glass and the soldier which we are just used to listening and ignoring the whole time! Putting it across the table yet another time is important because it needs to be put across and put across strongly and for a greater impact.

All of us are living a life of haste. Mostly! Wake up at 6.30-7, get ready, leave for office / college, spend the day running here and there attending classes/meetings, leave for home, come back and rest, have dinner, talk to family/friends and then sleep. In such ages of haste, it is difficult to form opinions get in touch with issues and knowing facts and not the filthy cream that is served to you essentially every now and then.

For readers, who are planning to skip reading it any further thinking it’d be a political rant – Pause! It is not. 🙂

The phenomenon of un-informed opinion making has hurt not just the global affairs, but also affairs on a local scale. The relation with your friend, the taste of your food, the selection of clothes by your parents for you. the good morning whatsapp message sent to you by your relatives, the suggestion by your dad to make savings and do some investments to ensure a better future – all these things are now being seen with a black and white vision.

This is boring. This is fun. This is orthodox. This is cool! This travel destination is bad. This trouser from the early 2000’s is so funny. We are just so deep into the binary world. Life never taught us to decide whether it is 0 or 1. It gave you uncountable other numbers between 0 to 1. 0 & 1 are for computers, not for humans. We need to understand this and accept it.

Our world is not binary. Everything around us is actually a rainbow and yes, the fact that rainbow has 7 colors is a massive simplification of the fact that there are uncountable number of colors in it.

Every now and then we see around us people making judgements about a place or a person or an object. What we fail to realise is what is good for us might be equally bad for someone else and when people meet it is the co-existence of two extreme opinions that make things beautiful. I am writing this in context to our local and individual scale lives, you can escalate it to any scale and this will still work.

You must have seen faces in your friend group who went for a mutton party and one friend sitting there who is waiting for the paneer bhurji? More often than not, that one person is being hurled for making a wrong choice. Wrong! “wrong” . Remember that new dress your grandpa gave you on your birthday and you haven’t tried it yet? Because your friends told it was old fashioned! Go ahead and wear it up and send your grandpa a pic. Tell him it is beautiful and suits you well. Makes you look like a gentleman. It was the best choice your grandpa and his ex-colleague and also his best friend made for your birthday. He actually went to the shop and kept selecting for 45 minutes. So, it cannot be something that can be just ignored.

I will be repeating things again, I know, but I say it again. Drop the black and white glasses and see the different greys in between. Between the Yes and the No, there are several maybe, i hope so, I guess so, I think so,etc. Between every Good and Bad there are it’s okay, it’s good for them, it’s what i prefer, it’s something i would avoid, not today probably,etc. It is easier to stick to the extremes, but it is more humane to be within it.

The food in your city might be the best, the mangoes of your garden might be the best, the cadre discipline of your college might have been worldclass, but then even this here, it’s not absolutely worthless. Try it out. It’s worth something.

Share this with all your contacts who judge everything in black and white and have a high level of prejudice to everything they see, do, hear or watch. We need to share this thought with them, that apart from what you think, this is another way we can start thinking and must be tried, if at all not practiced.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

23rd October 1999.
The Uniform House, Jamshedpur.

“Namaste Madam, Come please sit. What do you need?”
“Bhaiya, I need a school sweater , brown color for my kid”, my mom said.
“How old is he?”
“7 years”
” I will measure his shoulders, beta come here”
I walk up to him, keeping an eye on my mom.
“34 hai madam. Tarun, give him a 34-shoulder brown sweater”
“Bhaiya, is it 34?”
“yes, I am just bringing, wait for 5 minutes”
“Bhaiya bring 38!”

I look at mom. Mom looks at the shopkeeper. Shopkeeper looks at me. Mom content. Shopkeeper confused. Me disgusted.

This, my dear friend is the first lesson of middle class economics (MCE) 101- Shop not for the present but for the future. This was the way major section of 90’s India and now major section of the middle class people dress their kids. When I visit the malls today and see kids sections filled with clothes worth 2k’s and 3k’s and that brings to my memory, the first days of the school in April. Nearly all students had oversize, extra deep colored uniforms. Girls with skirts folded atleast 3 plates and vertically folded twice from the bottom – to be used for the next 6 years. The boys would come with off-shoulder shirts, whose extra large pockets would come somewhere close to the navel and same treatment with the trousers. The crotch area would appear like a sack with a kg of rice and the pockets would be as big to have my friends head inside. The trousers too would be folded atleast twice to be revealed later.

The second and probably a very important lesson is to Reuse. I have not experienced much of this myself, because I am the eldest of all my cousins. Whether you are a CEO of a company today, or a professor in a prestigious institute or a player of the esteemed club, if you have gone through the 90s periods, you must have worn the used t-shirts, shirts and trousers of your elder siblings. Even worse was if you had a same sex sibling with an age difference of 3 or less years, your dress would be bought for your+the younger ones years! So like if I am the only male in my sibling my shirt is bought for 3 years duration, his or her dress would come for 3+3 years, disgusting isn’t it? It wasn’t publicly known as disgust then though! It was as usual as the 2 rupee 40 paise per minute call from the local STD. The younger one would inherit the reign from the older one.

The 2KY stationery shop.
6.45 pm. Somewhere in 2001

‘Please send your kid to school tomorrow with the following stationary tomorrow,
a. 24 shades Camlin Oil pastels
b. 30 cm yellow color wooden scale
c. 10 pieces of colored scrap papers
d. Glitter pouch – golden, silver and red.
In case your ward is found without the above stationary, he will not be allowed for the Crafts class‘, my school diary said.
But then. the real bargain began. Without my knowledge the list was modified to :
a. 12 shades oil pastel (whichever company is cheaper)
b. 12 cm plastic scale (teachers ask the wooden ones just to beat the kids back)
c. 10 pieces of colored scrap papers not required, he has extra pages from last years scrapbook.
d. Glitter pouch is left from his last birthday – only the red one is needed.

Next day, I enter the class with full embarrassment and sit down quietly at the last bench so that no one sees that I did not even require a big carry bag to keep my 30 cm scale or the 24 shade oil pastel long packet. Its all there in my bag’s front pocket. One small 12-color set. One small scale. and glitter in a pouch and 2 colors in the kodak black film container.
To my surprise I find most kids apart from the few who came to school on AC version of Maruti 800 or the army jeep had exactly the same contents as mine. Some even brought glitters in matchboxes. 😀 Among others was a 12 shades wax crayons fellow. I felt better.
This brings us to the third and the most important lesson is do we really need it?

It’s not that our parents cared less. Every dress which was bought for us, cut down the grocery budget by that amount. Every time a stationary was blindly ordered by the teacher, probably that 10 gm silver paayal (anklets) my mom was planning to buy was put on hold. Every time our parents said, “That’s un-necessary expense, you don’t need to buy it, lets go”, they went home and prayed to the almighty to bless them with the ability that their kids could buy things without looking at their price tags. Every expense apart from the monthly fees, initial cost on books and copies and monthly school van expense came as a shocker to them, almost. So every time you bought something which was not planned in the beginning of the month, your parents would have had cut down something of their own, to buy you your thing.

The economics of middle class is ruthless. Leave absolutely no room for emotions. It’s a give and take. Drop this to get that. But I am glad I take all those values and virtues even till date when it comes to shopping for my self. I try to take into consideration utility, I try to reuse things as far as I can and I try to cut on things which are un-necessary.

And wait, there are things which I do different now.

I buy a little extra for my parents than they demand.
I do not check the price tag while I buy it for them.
I do not ask them if it was really required now.

It’s time, I cut down a bit of me for those who gave their life for me. 🙂

Utility. Reuse. Cut down unnecessary buying. Follow this and you will be following all the principles of sustainability and healthy life. No other theory, or practice is required.

Most of you, who have read through, would surely have gone through the things when they were kids. Only if we all could stay with those lessons a little bit!
Tell me if you also shared some similar experiences as a kid and share this with your siblings or cousins who shared your clothes.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

9:32 pm.

I opened this food delivery app, put in my pincode and logged in. Instantly I receive a mail on my mailbox – in the promotions label.

“Why cook when you can order?”
I smirked at the mail, unsubscribed and delete.

I opened the app. There was this poster – paka mat. I ignored and went to look for the menu.

Right on top of the menu, I see another one liner, No cooking January.

All this made me feel disgusted. Something which is supposed to be an alternate to home cooking, because probably you don’t have enough time or maybe you have too many guests at home or maybe just because you do not know how to cook, that same service is now trying to capture that space by giving one-liners which is hell bent on destroying an entire generation of youngsters who are anyways quite distanced from roots now. We have so many of us who already think cooking is a heinous breach on fundamental human rights and that it should not be a mandate in every household! I mean I do not advocate the fact that cooking must be an activity limited to only the females in a family, but yes I do advocate strongly that every household must stick to home cooking as the primary source of food. Irrespective of where you and your spouse works, the level of comfort you share or whatever.

I feel alarmed at the way these companies are invading within the threshold of our house. We need to ensure that the commercial services remain an alternative only. On one other occassion, I was going through YouTube videos when I saw another food delivery app in which it shows that a kid is hungry and the mother orders through the app some food and lies to the kid, saying he must wait for some more time as she needs some time to cook. I again repeat, I do not advocate the fact that ladies bear the burden of the kitchen and not the males. It can be either ways – the father or the mother can cook. I have many friends who have more interesting and fond memories of their father cooking delicious food than their mother’s. Absolutely fine. But lying to a kid and serving her market produced unhealthy food in the name of mother handmade food? Is this not deceiving the kid? Or are we already so blind in our commercial aspirations that we now have started intruding into the family fabric?

I am sure those marketing managers or creative head who would have written these one-liners, would themselves say when they return home,” I miss my mom’s food bro”. But still they themselves come up with lines that probably lakhs across the country will read. Why cook when you can order? Paka mat! No cooking January!

Initially these companies sprung up in the name of bachelor’s, students, single professionals, etc. It is good and quite handy up there. Well, even as a student or a professional, if I am not in a hostel, I will still prefer to cook most of the days and some days maybe, I order something fancy. But yes, it will surely not turn into a No cooking January! Never! Most of us will say, we do not know cooking. So what’s the big deal- learn it! We all were born with blank slates. None of us knew how to type, swipe left or right or even know what is right or wrong! so? Did we not learn it ?

I strongly believe, cooking is something that must be learnt and taught to everyone. It is the basic thing you need to learn and even more should be taught to all the males along with the other kitchen chores. Kitchen and cooking is a genre which does not belong to just females. It belongs to and is a duty of both- males and females.

I can cringe and rant on this for many many paragraphs, but I sincerely feel I have put my concern forth here. Let us not bring the outside food into our homes as a substitute to homemade food. If as parents, both the mother and the father cannot provide their family food, it’s something they really need to ponder about seriously. Outside food can never ever be healthy or cannot be sustained by a healthy stomach for more than 2-3 days. Applications and companies like these are used to preying on our weakness, they show us how our weakness is absolutely fine and how they have a solution that can take care of it.

I consider kitchen as the most important part of a house and cooking as the most critical activity. This is entirely my opinion which may or may not be same as yours. But one thing we both can agree on completely is khud se pakao! Why order when you can cook! No ordering January!

Give your feedback if you like the story and share your instances of such one-liners. Share this with your friends who run away from cooking and depend entirely on such delivery applications.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Promise, noun
a declaration or assurance that one will do something or that a particular thing will happen,
or, give good grounds for expecting (a particular occurrence).

Promises or swear, as we know are the basic tools we – you, he,she, her father, his mother, her teacher, her coaching, her garment company and yea, me too, we’ve all been using this since the day we learnt to create conditions. Since we used to create the “if..then” loop in our lives. I promise you a candy, if you got the A grade, I promise you a treat if you help me with the assignment, Just manage my attendance this time, I will complete your work, I promise.

Promises always come in a “if..then” format. They are not supposed to be mono-phrases. They cannot be mono phrased. We human are social animals but we are also territorial and occupational in our nature. We do not tend to let things go without something coming in return. We do not give away things, without asking for things in return. Whether the returns are promised to us in this birth or the next, doesn’t matter, but most of what we do, I believe, solely has to do with something that comes in return.

When we are kids and later teens or maybe even adolescents we make promises with a premise. We make sure we tell our peers to do something for us, so we could reciprocate with something we can for them. That’s how things work. And that is the reason why friends in teens and adolescents are mostly together even after they have a quarrel or a fight, Because the conversations and conditions between them are mostly open. Try to remember that boy in your campus, whom you promised that he will be allowed to play if he brings his cricket bat to the game. So the day he did not, or could not, he would himself feel a little left out and it would be to the team to ask him to come and play even if he did not bring his bat along. So a promise with a premise, keeps things simple and less complicated. It is easier to believe on a promise with a premise and much safer to.

Now, step into adulting. Scores of promises. Thousands of them- really! From your morning toothpaste to the goodnight mattress, promises. From the online cab you booked to the night food you ordered. From the first college admission orientation ceremony to the first job HR orientation – promises! But, but. but. You will realise not many of these adult promises come with a premise. They do have one though. Most of them hidden under a * (asterisk) mark or under a small silence.

We promise you will really have a good time working here, if you abide by the company rules and not let us down whenever we demand you to work more than what we said you would be required to.

I really love you and I promise to be beside you till death, untill you keep sending me what I ask you for on the messaging app and do what I ask to on that late night date and also stop doing everything else that I hate.

We really promise you white teeth and odourless mouth, if you keep getting tested at our clinic every 3rd week and get complete tests done and also not eat everything or drink everything we have mentioned in unreadable font size in that small booklet of preventive care we have given you .

We promise you the mediclaim amount when you fall sick, if you make sure you follow the 68 procedures and 32 forms that have to be filled and attested by the branch officer and also stand eligible for reimbursement as per the articles mentioned in the terms and conditions book.

So is there a problem with the way we communicate? Shouldn’t we be better at communicating when we are adults than our teenage? What is the issue here? What goes wrong? Why people who promise you togetherness for life leave you in a jiffy because you did not agree to go for that trip or asked for some space for a few weeks? Why does your fairness cream which promised you one tone up every 3 weeks, ended up leaving pimples on your face. Why do we keep doing mistakes in falling for wrong promises?

Desperateness. To look better, to be more safe, to be loved, to own a property, to do this, to do that! It is the desperateness that makes us overlook the other half of the promise that is right there, on your face. But aren’t we in a hurry – a hurry to get the best property on deal, hurry to get the best physique in a gym, hurry for getting the most attractive girl on the campus to date you? It is the hurry that tells us, its okay, the other half is there for sure and it is as good as the first half. It tells you, there is nothing wrong in this, do not worry, go ahead. When things turn sour, when the world moves upside down and you ask the hurry,you said it would be nice, but see what has happened? And then the hurry replies, I thought so, but you should’ve had checked. You’re an adult now afterall! and hurry leaves. Now there is no hurry, once you are deceived. Cheated. Taken back. Alone. Now all that is left is hopeless, broken, cheated, tensed you and the desperateness that once pushed you into overlooking the other half of the promise.

So, what can be said at the end of the discussion? Should we not promise or not let others promise? NO, definitely not! Promises give you hope for the future, they make you feel secure and safe. They make you worry-free and you can work and focus on the more important things. But yes, we need to make sure that the promises are complete when they are made.

If you are a the one who is making that promise, make sure you make it full. The promise and the premise, both. If you are the one being promised, make sure you ask for the premise or the background or the expectation from you. Do not move ahead before checking for the premise or the second half of the promise.

This process might make your search for the dream product a little late, it might not get you closer to the hottest guy on the campus but someone else, but it will make sure, that whatever and whoever comes, comes to stay. Comes not to break you apart, but rather bring you together.

I hope you start looking for the other half of the promises as well from now on. We all should.

Share this with someone who falls into promises easily 😀 and with those also, who keep promising for the smallest of things. Comment your feedback below and share the piece with your friends and close ones.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

10:30 AM, Sometime in 2008.

“O bhai hello, quick, we’re already late.”
“Just coming, give me 2 minutes“, he said.
He had always been the reason I was late to class. Never ever in my lifetime has he turned out on time or before I stop my scooter before his house. It had become my daily habit to check the money I had in my pocket, set a different ringtone on my nokia handset, check all the unread sms and reply to them, making sure I did not spend more than the 10 sms per day quota.
“Are you coming, or I’ll move?“
“Are bhai, there, running downstairs, 1 minute“, he said while he ran down.
I stood up, bent my scooter to the right at about 45-60 degrees and kicked it.

Ah, that sound of the Bajaj Chetak! hahaha.. cannot help but mention it here.

He sat , and I clicked the gear from 0 to 1 and then two clicks downwards to 2 and then to 3. 3 is ok. I feel comfortable there.

“ey, how much time we have man?”
“10 minutes more“, he said.
“hmm, enough“, I said from inside the helmet which I bet he did not listen.
“But the way you are driving, we aren’t reaching there“, he was getting impatient.

He looked over my shoulder on the speedometer. somewhere between 30-40.
“Oh bhai, haylo! Thoda tez chala le yaar, this way we are never reaching!“, he patience finally broke.
Whenever he cribbed about the speed at which I was driving, I would slow it down even further. You are not friends unless you make that person cry in pain. 😀

“Relax, we will be in time. It is just 3 km and we have 8 minutes to go. At the speed of 35 we cover 4.5 in 8 minutes. So chill. Baithe raho, we will reach in time“, I said turning my head to the right with the helmet glass open.

And we reached. 10:45 Am sharp.

“I told you!“
“Haan beh, chal. Don’t boss around now“, he ran into the class.

In the meanwhile I put the lock on the front tyre and took the key out and came into the class.
Sir had just begun. It was a physics class, but mostly the first 15 minutes would start with a random talk from somewhere. So by the time he came to our subject, we settled down at the second last bench and passed our way quickly across the class. At the end of the class, I gave him the keys and asked him to go out and unlock till I came. He went out and unlocked the tyre. He looked pissed off at the way I was driving this morning. I really wanted to explain it to him but I guess no one will ever get it.

35 is the speed I hit. Every time. Even now. Not because it is the “economy” zone, but because there is a certain emotion attached to 35. Its a point while driving where the engine is silent, the tyres do not make rush, everything around you passes by the perfect comfortable speed. Just at the speed you can look around and still be driving safely. 35 is the speed where every next turn is clear to you and you actually do not need to vary your speed too much (maybe plus minus 5 kmph). 35 is something which is fuel-friendly and vehicle friendly.

35 is also a speed which gives you the opportunity to feel the breeze on an empty road, which normally would hit on your face like a bullet if it were speed enough. At this speed you can get away with a chasing dog and can also see a squirrel climbing the tree begin from bottom to the top. You can also see a bowler throw a ball and the batsman hit it at this speed if you are around a ground. 35 is really a sweet spot.

Even better when there is a pillion with you. At this speed, you keep your scooter on the extreme left of the road and keep driving and talking to your pillion. You can also have a chat to the old auto uncle who used to drop you school everyday, if he passed by. 35 gives you the flexibility to be moving and still have the humane feelings. at 25, you vehicle will consume more fuel, the gear will have to be at 2nd and it wont be a pleasure. At 45, you would miss the things at the human scale which I talked about. But 35, just brings out the best of both worlds. Surprisingly I had read it somewhere that the average speed of a 2-wheeler on an Indian urban road is 32 kmph. Doesn’t that explain why I reached on time?

Also, 35 has some other really significant advantages – less accident prone, you can speed it up quickly to flee from a checking outpost, you can look on the glass facade of the showroom and see how you look while driving,etc.

I really wanted to tell people, whoever has been my pillion why I love driving and keeping the speedometer at 35. I am not a fan of speed. 35 is also a sweet age. By 35, you are a step into the parenthood, and one step away from it as well. You can gear up to behave like a serious parent and one step down and you can go for a romantic ball dance with your partner and be called a young dynamic couple. People at 35, mostly develop a healthy sense of what speed they should have in their life.They are much more calmer than a 25-year old. They know that they’ve been rushing for nothing and that life is more, but a running race. Its more of running fast and also experiencing life. Its about taking all those relations, those friendships, those memories, those bonds, etc and even then moving at a speed at which you are sure you will reach there in time.

It is always the 35. 35 is the sweet spot. Whenever someone asks me, what have you done to your life till now, I simply say, I will answer this at 35. Because I know that is the time, when I will hit the sweetest point of my life. 🙂 Just because, it’s 35, and I have trust in it.

Do comment and let me know if you liked it. Share it with your friends who drive very fast or very slow and tell them sometimes, they might want to try the sweet 35.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Ever came in touch with an iron press? Noticed where your arm goes and the pitch at which you shout? – Possibly not.
Ever lost it while watching cricket and your favorite batsman is bowled out? Noticed the speed at which you jumped? Or the way you stopped the curse words which you were about to spew? – umm, possibly not.

There are things, which are often not in our case an to our surprise these things generate the most extremes of emotions within us. The moment things start getting planned, the reactions on them keep decreasing. Kind of an inversely proportional relation. Like the gift you ordered online yourself as compared to the gift your sister ordered for you and you receive it at the security gate. The feelings are different. Way different.

Does that mean, planning must be avoided? Does that mean we should fall to the joys of eccentric emotions and feelings ? No. Certainly something I will never suggest to. But there is a a degree to which we start planning our lives. The problem is, the more we age, the tag of maturity erases any joy of spontaneity. The joy of sudden-ness. In one of my previous blogs, in Rant 17, I had written about how the art of thinking in the short term has been forgotten. We are all busy planning our lives to the most details and to the crazy extremes of it. In the process we have let gone those smaller moments of spontaneity and surprises.

There is one major problem with adulting and that it comes with a huge peer and social pressure. About the way you dress, the way you eat in a public place, the way behave between friends, the way you keep your legs while you sit, etc etc. Stay comfortable and relax is brought to a situation where you only hear it infront of a boss or in presentation. The art of being yourself is lost in the road to making yourself. Do I mind this happening this to me or you? Do you really want this to happen? Well, to my experience most of us do not even realise before you, on one night suddenly realise that there were times when you used to sit cross-legged on your chair while you watched that favourite season of yours, or how you used to mix rice,dal and curry together in a big bowl and sprinkle some rock salt over it and then eat it while gossiping with friends. Somewhere from “Oh my god, I love this” to “I really appreciate it, Thank you” – we lost that youth inside.

Is there a way we can realise this before it is really really late? Yes. Maybe. Maybe not. But yes, we can be vigilant. Let us accept change in our lives slowly and conserve and preserve things that make you happy. For instance, a close friend of mine really loved dancing and music, but somewhere she thought it took away a lot of her time and it was with her postgraduation that she chose to discontinue. Every now and then when she would come across such an event, she would become more than just a spectator. Her eyes showed she wanted to be on the stage than the visitor’s lounge. Another colleague of mine – his eyes would shine whenever there was a conversation about micro-art. On a pencil lead or rice-grain he would start talking about all the details, the tools used, the precision required,etc. What is so common between the two cases? What are the feelings that get induced?

I started this blogpost by talking about sudden reflex emotions or emotions without planning. In the above two instances about my friends from my life, what their respective activities did was to create that reflex surge in them . It would literally make them bounce off their seat, forget who they were- professors, project managers, etc. They would forget who they were sitting with and believe me even the people sitting around you enjoy these sudden splurge of happiness. They might laugh and mock you for a moment, but later on they will feel happy about the passion you have for a particular thing.

Someone suggested my friend to take up music again. She did. To her surprise, she could manage her work in a more efficient way than before. Just everything fell into place for her. She could wake up fresh, work fresh, have beautiful evening at the training and sleep with a happy smile. My colleague too, started a small micro-blogging website about micro-art and he keeps giving tutorials and writes a lot about people who rose in this art. They both realised, adulting is good. Adulting is a wonderful process in your evolution as a mature person, but that does not mean, killing everything that keeps you ready to pounce and jump in your own space. You must have heard the quote, Stay hungry, Stay foolish. It is something used extensively in the management field and also pretty much applies to ensure that we keep ourselves young and on our toes for fun.

So, tomorrow when you come home from work or college, open that old carton kept on the top rack of the wardrobe, bring it down and see if the watercolor cakes are still worth using. Check if the old skates, you’d bought still can roll. Try them once – even in your bedroom. Fall once. Laugh. Fall another time. Laugh again. Go and check with your 10th and 12th class slam books and see what your friends had written about you and your hobbies. See if some of those hobbies still remain. Go, dust off your box of joy.

Make time for yourself to be yourself. Have some time daily to strip off that corporate skin from you and be that little kid who left home with a small bag 10 years ago. Be that little kid who was caught eating from the lunch box at the rear bench before the recess interval. Take life seriously only in the hours it is supposed to be taken so. Do not cover your life with one laminated sheet – believe me, it is just going to take you down deeper into the darkness of boredom and depression ultimately.

So, tomorrow come home and Go, dust off your box of joy.

Put some of the habits you loved that you have dropped in the journey of adulting. Give it a try to go back to it. Share this with friends whom you think have forgot how to be themselves and are too much worried about work and targets and deadlines all the time.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

It was a good friday evening and I was planning to go to the other end of the city to meet some school friends. I dressed up casually after a long time. Since the last one year or so, I only dress up in formals for work, move around my house in the house dress only and rest of the day inside the house. So, did not really get a chance to dress up casually.
It was also the first time I would try the new ordered Aviator sunglasses that had cost me a fortune ( It’s lost now!). Apparently, I was “so ready” that my house owner looked at me and smirked and said, “have a good date, sarr!” I told him my Friday night was colorful but not that special and I really wish I could take that compliment from him. Anyways, I started walking past the main door of my house and turned back to lock the door.

The evenings in Bengaluru sometimes are magical. There will be a setting sun and the lazy rising moon. The sky will be a little dusky orange on one side and a slight bluish on the moon side. There will be a slow breeze right into your face and there will be sweet aromas of mirchi bhajji and gobhi manchurian around. I was kinda lost when I walked down the stairs. My phone rang. It was one of the friends and he asked me how much time I would take. I said, some one hour or so and that I have already left so I reach the spot in time. The house owner looked at me. Amit sir, why do you need one hour for Marathahalli from here? Take a cab no. It will take you quicker. Why do you want to waste so much time in Bus? Anyways, there is no metro route. I told him, that’s why I am leaving early Mr. I will reach in time, do not worry! He said annoyingly, what will do with saving so much money sarr, all professors are same. He laughed. I saw him laughing. I laughed too. Sometimes, laugh is the only response to laughter. While I was walking, he again spoke so nice dress sarr, it will get all bad in buss! Take cab sarr! I was kinda furious now. Arey, no problem! I kept walking.

I waited at th Banshankari TTMC terminal, and boarded the bus number 500A which would take me directly to Marathahalli. I g ot a comfortable seat beyond the rear gate which is my favourite location because it is raised. Haha. As the bus moved, I wondered how we as a society have reduced our travel modes as mere symbols of our economic and social status. Instead it should have been based on the factor of security, comfort, travel time, distance and overall responsibility of using the road. Why do I entertain a single occupancy cab (shared ones would not let me reach there by 1 hour) on a road and not board a bus instead that assured fixed timings and quicker access. Also, 8 times less fare. Yes, that does count too.

But sadly, public bus travels have become more a function of affordability rather than accepting it as a mode of travel. The moment people turn affluent, they shift to cabs and private taxis,etc. Maybe they are no more comfortable sitting with the street side vendors, school students, daily wage workers, etc. or maybe the suit does not allow them to be sitting there comfortably. Maybe they are just afraid of the security issues. God knows!

I used to board my college bus to reach the college where I worked. Many superpowers including some of my relatives, my close friends, suggested me to take a two-wheeler so I could go to college on my time and not stay slave to the college bus and its fixed timings. I told them it’s okay. The bus creates that compulsion, the necessary compulsion where I need to wake up early, get ready early, wait at the bus stop and talk to a few strangers daily. It also gave me the leisure of 45 minutes in the morning when I could read the news for the day and gave me the privilege of never been late to work. What’s better than having a bus who keeps your life disciplined just like your mom did.

But, No! the superpowers around you, who burn their daily lamp with their own blood and sometimes even yours, they just see everything as a function of “money”. They fail to understand the intangible values of punctuality, morning freshness, morning news, talking to people, etc. I guess that is the reason why it is commonly cited as doctors and academicians are the most advanced misers in the society.

Yes, we are! We are misers because we do not count every single thing on the scale of money, but we do own other scales like – environmental responsiveness, social cohesion, smiles and emotions, healthy body and mind and so on. Yes we are misers because we consider that money will not solely bring happiness and that not all happy things can be bought! WE are happy misers because we believe eating out often is bad, vegetables ordered to your home snatches away the joy of “choosing” veegetables from the street shop or the market and that we do not buy those extra large chocolate packets for someone special in a festival because, a box of Kaju Barfi or a box of Motichoor Laddu is still way beyong what chocolates can give to you.

Tell me in the comments if you also have been rendered a miser for not doing un-necessary stuff and share it with those who think you to be one.

Also, I have decided to host budding rant-makers on this blogpost which is soon going to hit the 1000 views mark. Anyone who wishes to express her/his frustration or a feeling hidden deep within, which you feel hasn’t come out off late, let me know via whatsapp/mail/blog/comment that you wish to write for the blog. I would make sure proper credit is given to your post and your post gets to see the most enthusiastic rant-waiting public around.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

2nd June 2018, Marina Beach Chennai.

After I reached Chennai Mofussil bus terminal early morning, I freshened up and started for Marina Beach. I was tired, but excited and hungry too, after the overnight bus journey from Bangalore. It was my last month at work and since I was on a notice period, the closing works were tedious. So I was tired and was looking forward for an exciting weekend.

I reached the beach at around 5:45 am and to my surprise, it was only a few groups of local kids playing cricket or some tourist roaming here and there in shorts. Apart from these, the beach looked unusually empty. I was looking for food somewhere. Something tasty enough to let go of the abnormal sweating I was going through. I saw one aunty and her husband struggling through preparing for breakfast on their food stall. I asked her if she had something to eat already. She replied back to me in Tamil, which of course I could not understand (my bad), but with her hand actions I realized she was telling this first lot of idli’s was for her family. She would open the shop at 7am. I sat there – tired, hopeless and waiting for 7 am and walk towards the beach. Within 12-15 minutes I saw a plate full of 3 idli’s and lots of sambar. I saw her and she stood there smilling.

I asked for a spoon as the idli looked steamy hot. Aunty smiled and sat with her own plate behind me while uncle stood and watched her teaching me how to eat idli. She first broke the idli with her hand and then fixed it between her fingers and rolled it in the thick sambar, rolled it just so that all the 4 sides could become golden yellow with the sambar. Now for this you obviously need a plate with some depth in the center, where the sambar can accumulate where you can perform the holy bath of the idli. Then the idli can either be crushed under the thumb for one more time or can be simply consumed. The taste of the idli, with sambar dripping from your fingers to your lips is a real delight and in a true sense, the perfect date with Idli.

Though I was happy about this new technique of eating idli I was not yet sure of its applicability to idlis that are hot. I thanked aunty, paid her the plate cost and moved ahead. I had a good weekend break and then I finally returned to Bengaluru.

The next time I had a plate of idli was at my workplace. A steel plate – with two soft idli’s and red chutney and white chutney and one small bowl of sambar.I looked around. Senior Professors, Industry academicians, the Dean, students and the working staff, everyone was present at the canteen. I really wanted to try eating this plate of idli the the way aunty showed me in Chennai. But what would everyone say? I remember I had the same feelings when I first tried to hold the hand of my first crush in school during break. Touching the one you love madly, in public, always makes you extra nervous. It made me nervous in 2008 and it made me nervous today too. I broke my dreams to the social pressure in 2008 and could not hold her hands, but today I decided to take that bold step. I took the spoon and kept it outside the plate on the table. The social taboo fair had begun. Eyes started rolling the moment I touched the idli with my hand.

I thought I must not do it. After all, its public place. Wouldn’t that disgust everyone else having a good break here? Was I event supposed to have PDA (Public Display of Affection) in a canteen? No. Maybe not. Or wait, Maybe I don’t care at all. That old woman did not care on Marina Beach. Why should I?

I took the bowl of sambar and poured it all over the two idlis. The fest had begun. I guess this was the reason why Hippies were not socially accepted. Because they cared more for their own happiness and less for others. Though I do not endorse the thought. But maybe once in a bluemoon, what’s the big deal about it. As I poured the sambar over, eyes begun to roll. I could hear the murmur on the side table. I accepted it as a background score to my first ever date with idli and decided not to heed to it. Next anti-social step was to pour the two chutneys on the sides of the idli-sambar. I could now hear my name on the tables around. “the young faculty”, “he is from Jharkhand”, “omg look at him”, “hahaha”, “ey give him a spoon da” , etc. I was loving the murmurs for a change. When people begin talking about you, it simply means your are making the right strides.

Now, the table was set. The costumes were ready. The candles were lit and the chutney in place. There were 2 idlis, floating in a pool of golden brown sambar, with the smell of curry leaves and some drumsticks, and on the side lie red and white coconut chutney that have now accepted to be a part of the family and touch the sambar and remind themselves of the holy union that was about to follow.

I unbuttoned my shirt’s hand cuff’s. I folded my sleeve upto my elbow. Looked at the plate and moved my hand towards the idli. <Pehla nasha, pehla khumaar, naya pyaar hai, naya intezaar> was the tune in the background. All the murmurs were subsumed by the music. There was sweet echo in the air as I touched the idli with my bare fingers. My fingers could just push inside the idli, it was so soft. I broke a segment of the idli and rolled it in the sambar. I took it up from there and took and dipped in both the chutneys consecutively. The white coconut chutney is usually course and it doesn’t stick, you need to pull it over the idli. There it was – the first bite that was sure to break the hell lose. I took it up with pride and passion and ate it.

When you eat with spoon, you don’t get the feel of it till it reaches the lips or maybe even less if you are more sophisticated with it. Here I could feel it since I touched it. I wished I had not succumbed to the public pressure back in 2008. The story could have had been completely different. Anyways, I went ahead and took another bite. Then the third and the fourth. By the time, the idli was over, I was left with a thick curry – with a mixture of sambar, white chhutney and coconut chutney. I tasted it – and believe me it was bliss to. This is why probably some peole lick the plate clean.

I realised it, if you have power and strength to go for what you love, usually things that don’t mean a lot, come together and form something so lovely and tasty. I stood up, my hands stained in sambar+chutney and crumbs of idli in the plate and the red chilly broken and squeezed. There was sweat on my forehead and the shirt looked crumpled because of the right sleeve that looked in bad shape. People stopped and looked at me sideways without actually raising their heads. Certainly I broke the orthodox. Certainly I did what was not supposed to be done. But there I was, happy, proud and free.

Maybe someone tomorrow gets inspired and does the same, maybe not. Maybe I will be laughed forever for making the lunch the way it became. But, yes. That was my first date with idli. 🙂

Share your comments with me if you love idlis too and share this with all those friends who still eat idlis with spoon.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

I belong to Jharkhand, a state in the eastern part of India. Most aspiring students flock towards Maharashtra, Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Odisha Andhra Pradesh, Telangana. Likewise, many students from the southern part of India come to the northern states like Delhi-NCR, Haryana, Punjab, Gujarat for their higher studies. They leave their home once and for all. Only a few of the students from major cities or metro’s who are lucky enough to land into a job in their hometown get back else, most of us become refugees for life.

When we leave our home, we do not just leave our bed, our street our grounds, we also do leave our culture, our food habits, our local attires, everything. Every new place is a new culture. A new change. But more often that not, we end up abusing the very change that welcomes us and hosts us for 4-5 years at least or even more.

There are two things which are mostly mocked about – the language and the food. I am an avid traveler and I believe food and language define a culture. They are the face of any civilisation. These two things tell you the mood, the ambience and the nature of the people who follow that culture. If you go somewhere new and do not follow the language or the local food, you’d better be sitting on your drawing room couch and watch Discovery. Just clicking selfies and uploading on Instagram with 101 hashtags won’t qualify you as a #globalcitizen.

Coming back to the students and the cultural shock. I realize and accept the presence of a cultural shock. But just because it’s different from yours or contrary to yours, that doesn’t make it any bad. Maybe it’s just different. We all need to accept it that it is different. To understand this, you have to have an intellectual understanding of how food and language come from.

Food and language both develop not overnight or on the basis of what some king or queen wished to, local food and dialect is a product of thousands of years of clinical research and hit and trial. They are tested on so many indicators and situations. Like food is evolved on the basis of the physical and geographical configuration of the place, the availability of the place, the mood of the inhabitants, etc. Similarly dialect develops on the basis of the human morphology, lifestyle and the climate and many more. To realise the evolution and the effort behind these two things – dialect and food can be an anchor point from where we can start learning to respect other people.

There can be an issue when you actually do not end up liking the food, lets say. It’s ok. You are an individual and are free to have your own food preferences. But that does not, I repeat, THAT DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO SAY THE FOOD IS SHIT! This sounds harsh but yes this is true. Too much chilli in Rajasthani and Gujarati food – it is shit. Too much oil and butter in North India food – it is shit. Too much sourness in South Indian food and also spices – again, it is shit! Too much boiled food in the North-Eastern states – again that is shit!

If you really want to be treated like a sane human ever in your life, replace the shit with different now. And then, here is how it will look like ,

Too much chilli in Rajasthani and Gujarati food – it is different. Too much oil and butter in North India food – it is different . Too much sourness in South Indian food and also spices – again, it is different ! Too much boiled food in the North-Eastern states – again that is different !

This food is not shit, it is just different, you bonehead! And, it is absolutely fine with the locals, if you are not eating the food. Go and help yourself at the fast food counters which will make you content. But, please be generous enough to keep the word shit with you.

The problem is in the wild race of mocking other cultures, we forget the basic virtues of any culture and the people who cannot respect other cultures are mostly the ones who have already been off-rooted from their own.

The local food and dialect are treasures of the local people which might be something not of your taste or understanding. Keep off, then! Tell them it sounds or tastes interesting, but maybe I am not comfortable enough or adaptive to have this or try this. Not able to adjust is your problem, so ideally you are the shit if at all there is supposed to be some shit in here. But, I would keep my manners to myself and not call you the shit. It is just two different cultures trying to mix -some might mix while others may not.

Be respectful. Considerate. Listen to people and taste their food. Tell them you liked it. Tell them where you come from and what are your dialects and food like. You will see there will be smiles everywhere – on you and on them. Adapting it further is a choice you surely deservee to make, but disrespecting is certainly none of the etiquettes . By saying this is shit, you are simply being a bad representative of your culture.

Do give your feedback and share this with your friends who believe the same.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

(This is a piece of fiction and all places and characters mentioned are just to suit the built of the piece. They have no relevance whatsoever with any existing place or people) 

A government office, somewhere in erstwhile undivided Bihar, 1985. 

“Did you read the article in today’s newspaper, Pandey jee?” 
“No, what is it about?” 
“There is an article that says, soon there will be times when drinking water will have to be bought from businessmen and shops.” 
“Why, where are the individual borings and wells going to go, government is going to take away all the water?”

Both the officer’s burst into laughter. 

A BPO in Bengaluru, 2002
“Hello Sir”
“Hi Dhiman, come! Please have a seat, tell me”
“Sir, I am here to invite you for my housewarming tomorrow evening at Ulsooru. Sir this is the card, Please come tomorrow sir”
“Oh, great! Congratulations! Ok, in Ulsooru, ah? Shree Krishna Lake View Apartment..umm.. around the lake is it, Dhiman?”
“No sir, not exactly. A little 1.5km from the lake towards the St. Francis Cathedral.” 
“Oh, nevermind. We will be there. Thanks for the invitation Dhiman”

A Real-estate office, Somewhere in Indirapuram, 2034

“Sir, I am telling you. Let’s make the 130-year old tree group the USP of our villas. We do have 7 villas and all face the trees. We do not have such huge trees anywhere now in our surroundings other than the Swarn Jayanti park which has been cordoned off 50m from all sides, so its unaccessible for construction. This Hathi-park area is the only space where there are old trees and no cordoning presently. Let us not leave this opportunity sir.” 

“I do understand, but will this pay us the profit, Nitin? “

“Sir, let me put it to you this way. Who will not want that a 130 year old tree group will be right infront of their house. Just imagine 130-year old tree facing luxurious villas. You get the shade and the sounds of the birds every morning. You get the cool breeze every morning and evening. Natural breeze and not the usual artificial breeze maker like this one in our office. 30-minutes of tree-shade costs people Rs 60. In the Lutyens Delhi, it’s Rs 210. Back in Ghaziabad, its Rs 26. Even the government is not able to provide enough green trees for community rest. The oxygen rates are also going up and the DMC has increased the rates by 30% citing the industrial rates hike. In such a scenario sir, these protected trees can be a big boon to our property and let’s cash it before the government comes ahead and puts it into the conservation zone.” 
 
“Umm.. ok Nitin. Go ahead and talk to the marketing team. Get the brochure ready. Do come up with the final title of the project. This is one project I don’t want to mess with” 

“Sir, we will call it the Green-view Utopian block”

“Good Nitin, go ahead with your brochures” 
__________________________________________________________________

What is it that you see in all the above 3 cases, two from the past and one from the future? 

In the first case of the potable water privatization and market purchase, it was literally a widely cracked joke till the other end of the 20th century. Even in the 90’s when plastic bottles like aquafina and Kinley had made their presence in the markets, we where still thinking these are only for the high end rich customers who have been advised by the doctors to drink mineral water. Mineral water and Distilled water where two varieties that came in bottled containers and both were not for common consumption. This was the general perception, Look around today. 
Most shops do not offer you a glass of water, Instead  you have to  buy water bottles. Most travellers, instead of carrying a 2,5-ltr jar pile up several 1 ltr bottles and fancy their lifestyle, by saying, Aquafina ya Bisleri hi chahiye. Cities like Bangalore, Chennai, New Delhi, etc. you can drink water only from a 1ltr mineral water bottle or from the 20 ltr water tank that comes delivered at your home. You never know where your water is coming from. The days we were fearing have now arrived right on our face. 

In the second example, the tragedy of the lake view apartments and villas. The lakes have gone and it is ironical that the lake -filled and the apartment that comes on top is named the lake view apartment. What joke!  Most parts of our country is fighting with an issue of disappearing lakes and once these lakes disappear, they simply play with the underground water level and the ecology around it. The Central Indian and the Deccan knows what I am talking about. 

So walking on the same lines, the days are not far away when trees will also become such luxuries. You open google maps now and just observe. Most trees are now, either along the roads or large villas or government areas or industrial townships, ie, where resources are in abundance. What about the middle class housing colonies and slums -you wont find even one big  tree for an entire large area. It’s no more a fiction now. Apartments are already being sold in the name of green just by putting some creepers and shrubs in their balconies. Within 5-10 years, if not 20 this is going to stare us all in our face. Right in our eyes. When your kids will be asked to buy a particular brand’s  oxygen cylinder and the government will ask for a mandatory 5-round oxygen vaccination for children below 5 years.

Maybe wars then will be less about nuclear threat and more about oxygen threat. Maybe International sanctions will not come in terms of dollars or Yen but liters of Oxygen. Nobody knows. Maybe Lions club and Rotary clubs will have more free oxygen camps than the blood donation camps. Maybe the politicians would not promise reservation %, but 5 million tree plantation on all the land which will be snatched from industrialists! 

Times will change as they are meant to be. It will change. Today’s jokes will convert to painful realities of tomorrow. I write this to make you feel frightened. Because unless the fear settles in, nobody will act. We don’t! 

What can we do? Nothing much. Sit back and watch this happen. Wait! Maybe something… Plant as many shrubs or anything green in your balconies or small open spaces in your house. I know a tree is not feasible. At least you will get some butterflies or bees there. Reduce the use of one-time plastics. Reduce the wastage of resources and if possible plant a tree and take its care till its fragile. 
At another level, go on for conserving the water resources. Get a water  harvesting systems functioning at your home – Ask this as birthday gift from your parents. I bet you will feel happy. 

If you think that the fears I suggest are merely fictional in nature and will be far from reality, do write to me for further evidences. 🙂 I will be happy to discuss. Share this piece with people and friends who think, we are far from being destroyed. 

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Have you ever been an intern – had your seniors shouting on you and how worthless professionally and morally you were?
Have you ever been infront of your parents and relatives and heard about how embarassed they were to have you in their family?
Have you ever been in a situation when your loved one says, I wish we’d never met and moves on leaving you gasping for breath and trying to understand what just happened?

Must’ve happened! Either of the 3, must have happened.

What is our first reaction usually – retaliate? Listen and let it go?

Well, the point is – it never goes! In the worst case, if you retaliate it begins a chain of unpleasant reactions and actions and it becomes a thing you’d love to forget.

Psychologists across the world term this as the Domino Theory, wherein one action has mutliple and cumulative reactions and leads to effects which was not initially thought off. Most battles that have gone down the history have been a testimony to this Domino theory. Be it little family issues, petty peer quarrels, social conflicts, major civil unrest or global wars, all begin with something really ignorable and ultimately turns out to be way more evil than thought.

Now coming back to an individual level. Today’s life is competitive. Very very competitive. With everyone trying to pull you down – mentally, professionally, physically and socially. No one gives you that extra respite to let you settle down for a while and think of yourself. You are kept on the edge – all the time. Little precautionary error and there goes your dream and career and life and what not. Should we really consider the effects of Domino theory or just hit back with double response to the vice done to you by others?

Let’s consider an example. You are a traveler with 20kg of travel load. You have to travel a distance of 200 km in 5 days. Now, there are multiple smaller roads that diverge/converge to your main path. On every path, you see one person who flags you and dares you do things which incite you. What do you do? Take that road and run after him, trying to hit him back with double response? Congratulations, you have just missed 30 minutes out of the total time you had achieve your target in.
What if that person is on your road and actually is an impediment in your own target? Legit to hit and eliminate, seems right? No. You will still be missing that valuable time of yours, which probably throws you out of your path of success.

This is where, killing the dominos effect comes in. IF AT ALL, seems feasible – Forgive and Let go. Let go of the person who did that thing to you. Let go of the boss who scolded you without any purpose. Maybe it was just her frustration for someone else and you simply became the first one to be listening to her. Let’s learn to forgive and let go. It is not at all easy, though. I write it here and I am myself usually way out of control to forgive and let go. But yes, I do try and apply it most of the times and I really wish to improve even further.

So, the next time you are at the parlour and something goes wrong by the staff or the waiter serves a wrong order, relax. Give her a smile. Tell her it’s ok. Tell her she does not need to worry. It happens at everyone’s workplace. No big deal about it. Do not threaten to cut her pay. It will just initiate a chain of reactions and ultimately some one will face the burn of your reactions, which could have been avoided at the first place.

Just try it. It will make you happy. It will make the person who made a mistake happy. It will make the others in the surroundings feel happy.

And ofcourse, when things really go out of control, once in a while, just to keep things in order, go ahead and scare people who did it. But rarest of the rare cases. In all other cases, Forgive and let go.

If you have instances where you forgave someone and moved on share in the comments. Give your feedback and share the rant with your friends. 🙂

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

MYOPIC. adj.

Short or nearsightedness, Lacking farsightedness or intellectual insight.
You must have heard this term from several people around you.
Don’t be myopic, you’re such a short-sighted person, have some far-sightedness, etc.

Every single one of us has been rebuked by this. Especially the ones before the technology boom began in the late 90’s in India. We had been brought up teaching an ability where you’d decide for a vision in the future, near future and the far future and for middle class or the lower class societies, the present really was just a means to achieve the 3 forms of the future. Probably most of us reading this today, still agree to this long-sighted theory of vision making and life planning.

Today, the times have changed. Where food comes from the restaurant to you in 30 minutes and the examination scores come right after the exam as soon as submit, things have to change. Everything from the vision to the approach, to the behavior and to the psychology to win has to undergo a change. We cannot be dealing with a millennial the same way we dealt with a kid from the 90’s or before.

Millennia’s come with traits like never seen before. We cannot comment they are wrong or right, because the righteousness of a trait is a relative term. Features like Instant gratification, short span of attention, an ever increasing knowledge availability, global citizen behavior and even improved capabilities of interlinking subjects and their applications. These are changing times and our approaches to achievements have to be modified too.

Being short-sighted or myopic is not a vice. Being that alone is one. It’s time we propagate to be short-sighted as well as long-sighted and give more weightage to short-sightedness. This might feel fishy to many of you reading and yes, that is my intent to raise this issue.

We have all been having those long time goals in nearly every aspect of our life – career goals, relationship goals, personal life goals, social goals, etc. We have all been taught and trained with questions like, how do you see your self down the line in 5/10/15 years? While such questions are always better to verify the formulation of ideas and the confidence of the candidate, these questions do leave us with a big issue.

The issue of not living in the present. The issue of ruining the present for the future, the issue of ruining a childhood for an entrance exam to a god-for-sake college which is years away. Are we really not becoming too far-sighted and leaving the pleasures of today?

I have always suggested students to look what’s going on today. Have a long-terms goal and plan. It’s okay. But do not devote your “everything” of today for it. It will come if it has to. You are not a magician to decide your future. Focus on today. Of course that doesn’t mean you let lose of your visions, but do give some respect to the today and what and how it deserves to be treated.

I often asked students if they had a 30 minute plan for today. What would they do for every 30-minutes of today. Have they thought of it? Can they think of this? Is it possible for them. Try it out for a day or two and you will realize, the actual time you give for the “vision of tomorrow” is actually sparse and more time goes into the ‘thinking of it and what might possibly go wrong and what are the possible xyz, etc.”

And while all of this happens, you can still enjoy that 30 minutes on your terrace with your siblings and talk about possibly where you forefathers are located in the sky, or maybe just take out an app on your phone and see the different stars and planets etc. You can try to go back to the playground which you left 3 years ago for your “preparations” and ask the kids there, if they can let you join. You might want to join your mom to the market and just help her bargain and buy the veggies at the best price.
Maybe sometimes you just sit with a crush on the side of a lake or even at a road side food stall and just gaze into her eyes and tell her you miss her but it’s just about time you focus on something which is even greater and more important.

Life is not always about the “larger goals we achieve”. These goals keep the world happy your surroundings happy, But for yourself to be happy, you need to have a bunch of these small moments of joy. That small fight you had with the other school guys for your best friend, that chase by the traffic police when you’d caught tripling on a bike, the day when you went to the petrol bunk and asked for filling 10 rupees petrol or the night you spent below your friend’s crush’s house just so that he could wish her happy birthday.

Believe me, swinging either sides completely is going to ruin you. Don’t be a racer. It’s not going to lead you anywhere. Be a traveler. Enjoy the journey. Enjoy the stops. A racer does not look at the pitstop, She certainly wins the race, but mostly after 30 minutes she is alone in her vanity preparing to run for the next. While when a traveler stops, there are many ears, wanting to listen to her story – where she went, whom she met, where she stopped, what she ate, etc. Be that traveler. A traveler with a focus.

Be that eye. The Far-sighted eye, with the detail of the near-sightedness.
Plan your today yourself. Don’t let the future plan it for you.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi.

I have my own reservations and informed opinions about him. Definitely a major turnaround in the Indian war of Independence was brought about by him and on the same hand he was also responsible for some of the gravest blunders and cases of prejudiced selections. And well, I personally do not expect any living human on this earth to have made NO mistake at all. Definitely would have. M K Gandhi is no exception and must not be treated as one. But yes, to his credit are some of the most noble principles and acts that India will treasure for a very very long time – Principles like non-violence, satyagraha, cleanliness, reaching out to the poor, modest life and facing challenges upfront amongst many other virtues. Also, one amongst the many instruments we have from is the one I am going to talk here about.

The GANDHIJI’S TALISMAN
It reads as follows,

“I will give you a talisman. Whenever you are in doubt, or when the self becomes too much with you, apply the following test. Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man [woman] whom you may have seen, and ask yourself, if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him [her]. Will he [she] gain anything by it? Will it restore him [her] to a control over his [her] own life and destiny? In other words, will it lead to swaraj [freedom] for the hungry and spiritually starving millions? Then you will find your doubts and your self melt away.”

People who have studied in CBSE or state boards might have seen this on the backside of the front cover or on the first page of their NCERT text books. Only if we could have had read it that often.

Gandhiji’s Talisman is based on the assumption of Human’s need and not greed. So if you believe in giving preference to the greed factor, I am afraid you might want to just stop reading here. For the one’s who believe it is necessary to stay within our needs, it’s rarely of any use to you as you have already possibly understood the talisman yourself and must be applying into life. This write-up will be of utmost fruitfulness to people like me, who are partially greedy in some sectors and content with the need in most of others. We want to enjoy and also be responsible with our consumption. We all will see how this talisman helps.

As easy and simple the talisman itself is, I would still go ahead and provide examples which will help us understand what he truly meant and the applications that this mantra can have on our daily lives. I have been following this since 2012 and I hope you all will find a way to implement it too.

Take an instance of the food in your plates. I have been using a mess since 2010 and it’s been 9 years since I am having mess food. What hurts most in mess food is the huge amount of food waste that happens. Because there is a complete buffet of dishes, people usually takes little of each, eat things which they like(even take a repeat) and leave the others in the plate and dump it in the common bin. Now this is one case where this talisman holds great relevance and once you realise this, I bet you will not even leave that last grain of rice in the plate.
Let’s suppose you have 3 spoons of rice and a large spoon dal left. Half a chapati and a few slices of cucumber. Now, maybe you don’t find the food amusing enough. Just thing of this, ” Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man [woman] whom you may have seen …. will it lead to swaraj [freedom] for the hungry and spiritually starving millions ” ? If the answer to this question is yes, I believe you will yourself realize you shouldn’t waste it next time onward. 🙂

Take another instance, Superficial Consumerism, a disease so rampant that all major global disorders your name are somehow related to this. Have 8 sets of clothes? Need another one? Really and badly need that new dress on the aisle?
Now, if you have read the Talisman twice till now, you will ask these questions to yourself – are my older clothes which are in order useful to someone? Would that last person mentioned in the talisman really go ahead and buy the next set? Maybe you can actually afford and possibly have it because you really like it. So go ahead and keep the set of clothes you really need and donate the others to people who might really need them.

For you deciding your needs is a choice, while for some, meeting their needs is a desperate struggle that begins with the time eyes open and shuts with the eyes at night. Your extra can be someone’s only resource. Be generous. Either save or share.

You might be adorned with the pleasure and luxury of enough prosperity of buying things, of expenditure on your will. Use that to fulfill other’s needs and not your own greeds.
I felt the need of sharing this because I have in the past few months, discussed about this talisman and to my surprise, somehow, not most of them knew about it. It was shocking because literally every textbook started with the preamble and a talisman. Maybe our system was so ignorant that we missed on the more important things.
What Gandhiji would have then thought would be the source of inspiration for complete independence has now become the only way we could save the world. I would request everyone to share Gandhiji’s Talisman with your friends and close ones. Follow it. Read it multiple times. Paste a poster of it, along with your Beetles or the Psychedelic posters, along the Rocky Balboa and the Leonardo’s Quotes in your room. Give this quote it’s due place.

We are at a stage where we need to apply this everywhere. To the consumption of water, property, food, clothing, resources, services, luxury items, basic utilties, everything under the sun. Cities are running out of water, oceans are full of plastics, rivers are full of sewage and minds are full of consumerist advertisements. Some how somewhere this has to stop. Let’s try this talisman once. I am sure it holds it’s relevance today more than ever.

Do give a feedback and share this write-up with your friends.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

While, tea comes in several avatars – good morning tea, post breakfast tea, the make-up for lunch tea, the post lunch tea, the lunch’ish tea, the 4o’clock tea, the random sunset tea, and it goes on. Tea is not the one that sticks on a schedule. It’s like a smile. Can make it’s place anywhere anytime. Just need boiled water and a tea bag at the least.

I have never heard tea demanding something. In a Himalayan Grass tea, even if you don’t put honey, it won’t complain. It would just whisper in your ears that honey could’ve made it even more whimsical. But even this is refreshing. You can also cheat the tea. You can use sugar cubes, sugar, emergency situations you might also see people using sugar syrups. But the tea won’t complain. It is okay, till the point, the sugar serves it’s purpose.

There is everything that I love about tea – I mean beyond the levels of my expressions for tea. When I see tea, I dont see TEA, I feel it on my lips, on my tongue, I hear that swoosh when I sip it, and I see those fumes that comes infront of my eyes when a bring a hot cup of tea infront of my eyes.

BUT.

There is a very big problem with tea, Very very big problem. It’s very possessive with the company between me and my biscuits. The moment I put a biscuit into it, it someway or the other appears to swallow it. On first appearance the meet of a biscuit and tea appears to be romantic, they both dipped in each other’s love, softening and losing each other in sweet romance. But soon, I see the biscuit falling into tea and what is left behind in your hands is nothing but dry, lonely biscuit that has not even touched the tea. That part should be, by now, aware that the tea has the habit of swallowing the biscuit, but as destiny demands, even the other part moves downwards in desperation, only to meet the same fate.

I usually wait for people at cafe’s, restaurant, bus stops, cinema halls, marketplaces, outside college hostels or sometimes outside the hospital. I usually take a half-cutting tea with a fan or two rusks and a cigarette. (smoking cigarette is injurious to health) I love this combination because spatially this is the best combination of eatables you can have without the requirement of a place to keep things. The tea goes in your left hand, the cigarette between your left index and middle fingers, occasionally hit at the butt by the left thumb and the ther eatables in your right hand. Strategically placed! Perfect.

That evening was an everyday routine. I left office and had plans later that night. She asked me to meet near the petrol bunk, at the betel shop and from there we would head to the restaurant for dinner. You know, when you are living in a different city, less salaried and have a space crunch, you often want to meet people outside your home, or colony or even your office. The feel of you staying and working in below standard situation makes you insecure. You fear for your friendships your relationships, your clients and everyone that can make you feel better.

Anyways, I stood at my routine Sujith betelshop in Cox Town, ordered for a half-cutting tea, 1 Classic and 1 rusk.

“Bhaiya, rusk rehne do, wo Parle jee de do, 5 wala”
I tore the packet, took out one and ate the first biscuit dry. Did not appeal to me. Not even a single bit. Why eat a biscuit dry when you’ve the comfort and the luxury of having it dipped in tea?

I checked my watch – 9:45 pm. Still no sign of her around.

I took the second biscuit out. This time sure that this meets the tea. I take a smoke, look around for her, and then look down at the biscuit and blow the smoke on it and dip it in tea – aah! that color change. The biscuit looks so happy and satisfied when it meets the tea. If this isn’t romance, I don’t know what is.
I take it and eat the biscuit. Ummmm.. Perfect! much better than a rusk. I take another smoke and exhale on my rear mirror of the bike while I set my hair.

I checked my watch – 10:08 pm . Still no sign of her around.

I took out my phone to check, no unread messages, no missed calls. She might well be on her way. Maybe by 10.30.

I ate two more biscuits. The 3 biscuits felt like ummm… bliss. Took multiple smokes.

I checked my watch – 10: 23 pm. Still nothing.

Bhaiya, ek classic aur dena.

Sujith gave me the cigarette but also hinted at the time and that he is already late. I tell him to continue and that I would leave soon.
I took the 5th biscuit out and dipped it again. This time a little more deeper. My phone rang.

“Can you please not wait and just leave, just leave. I don’t want you beneath my house anymore. Just go else I will ask the owner to deal with you the way he wants.”

“But, today it’s my birthday and you promised we would have a final dinner together. Just one dinner more? Too much to ask for? for all times we spent? Just one dinner? Not even on my birthday?“

“I don’t care, I don’t want to see you around anymore, not atleast on this road. Go anywhere. DIE!“

My hands were numb and so was my face. I smoked – once, twice and thrice. Long intakes. My eyes could see smoke inside.

I bent my head and looked at the tea. The biscuit was not there. It was gone. Dissolved.

I gave the remaining biscuits to a dog there. Gave the bouquet to an old uncle across the street, sitting. Rolled up properly ironed shirt and opened up the top 2 buttons that had been hassling my neck for so long.

Kicked my bike. Didn’t start. Tilted it both sides a little and shaked it. Choke on. Kicked again. It did. Sujith was closing. I had kept the cup on the table. I came off my bike and went to the table to give him the cup and the money.

I could see the biscuit was gone. Only a smart part of its corner stuck to the glass. Dry.
~~~


Share your feedback if you liked the piece.

(The author does not advocate the habit of smoking but has been depicted to maintain character in the story.)

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Ever felt like you are capable of doing nothing, just another lump of flesh and blood on earth?
Ever felt like everything you did till today, uptil now, has gone for a toss?
Ever felt like the decision you took the other day with such care and precision just toppled over and you’re left with nothing but embarassment and disdain?

Well, I request you to read through. I write this as a person who has experienced both failure and success, pain and love, hope and despair, either personally with me or with people around me. I really have a few things I would like to share with you. You never know what might help!

I have interacted with various students and their parents during my stint as a counselor in a social project and then as a faculty in an Undergraduate college and believe me – The biggest offense that you can do to humankind, this earth or maybe your nation is to – work below your limits. Not realizing your potential and just letting it go. I feel sick when people just waste their whole life thinking they are of no use and probably it’s not their cup of tea and judge the fate of their lives with just one or few failures or breakdowns. Realizing what your life is worth and realizing your self-value is the best thing you can do to yourself ever.

We see many students, office employees or aspirants of jobs or examination. They set up a target and then keep bringing the bar down and down and down. That happens when you don’t know yourself. That happens, when everyday after setting the target you call your self a loser and pull down the bar a little. Eventually what happens is you completely fail yourself for the target you had set initially.

Success may or may not come, that is secondary, but the very fact that you tried, the very fact that you made a decision and stuck to it, gives you a motivation that is much much larger than the success itself (maybe). Do not be afraid to check and test your limits. Can I do this? Can I achieve this? Keep pushing yourself to unknown frontiers to be able to know what you are capable of. Do not shy away from taking that one extra mile, or putting that one extra hour in your effort. Don’t get bugged by people around and their voices. Not one society has paved easy roads for an aspirant. Be it Abraham Lincoln, Mahatama Gandhi, MS Dhoni or even your parents. Society has never made the way easier for any aspirant. So do not get bogged down by that. That is a variable you might not even want (have) to consider.

We all hear innumerable stories of inspiration and courage and determination, etc. etc. none of which I have to mention here. There are already enough of those on the internet. What we fail is to gain or extract a lesson from them. The other day I was talking with a friend about JK Rowling. Believe me, I am not a avid book reader nor a Harry potter fan. I haven’t read even a book (and I am not quite proud of it) , But still, I really feel her story is very inspiring. My friend replied back saying, “there are so many J K Rowling’s out there in pain and closed in their apartments. Maybe one in a thousand rose up. What’s the use? How should I assure you that I am the one?” I asked her,” how do you assure you’re not the one, if you don’t even try? “

She did not reply. She was quiet and this is what hurts me most. When you have no answers and then you stay quiet instead of being inquisitive and looking for the answers. I tried to lift her up and it seems it has worked well. I can maybe lift her up twice or thrice but the inner strength will come only when you realise, it’s not about the result, it’s about the process too.

I have been very fond of failures and disappointments. Because every failure I go through, that increases the gap of improvement for me. The next effort with a little more than the last time and there you go, the change in results is very very high. If you succeed, well and good, if I don’t, t he improvement gives me enough strength to go for it again.

The summary of everything that I intend to say here is – DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE YOURSELF. The motivation is all around you, you just need to realise how to make use of it. I am going to give you two thumb rules as to how you can make use of the motivation around you and realize it –

Firstly, Try imagining your problem happened with a junior of you and the junior asking you a suggestion under similar circumstances. What would you suggest. Be as strict as you can be with your recommendation. A little conversation with yourself and the imaginary character will eventually give you YOUR answer.

Secondly, go ahead and take a decision with whatever available evidences and motivation you have. Ratan Tata, the heir of the TATA Trusts, once said, “I do not make right decisions always, more often than not I make a decision and then work hard to make sure it turns out Right” (not posting verbatim, but I hope you get the crux of it)
Follow this when you’re making a decision. Do a little self-assessment and then go with what you feel suits. The fact that you have decided for it yourself, will give you the enough power to keep going and once the motivation comes from within, it rarely blows out.

I appeal each one of you reading this piece, to re-assert yourselves once, that come what may, in any situation occurring henceforth, we are not going to undermine ourselves. We need to stay bold and motivated. Only then can we be self-propelled instead of continuously looking for motivation inside. Remember, killing your own capacity to perform is the biggest offense you can make to yourself. Do not do that. Humans were not born with a restricting shell around and that positively shows that we are meant to grow.

Share this with someone who you think loses out on her/him self quite early and does not dare to try out that extra step and with all those who can be much much better than what they have made themselves into. Also, give your feedback on this piece and let me know if it helped you by commenting “yes, it did”.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Most often that not, we find ourselves stuck in a weird psychological warfare with our own self. What if this thing that I am doing is wrong? What if this will lead to something terrible and out of the senses? What if this hurts everyone who is associated with me – directly or indirectly?

We end up, after such a thinking session in a complex futuristic scenarios building matrix and convert our overtly capable but unused mind into a supercomputer, calculating multiple scenarios and cases. Try remembering that small trip you wanted to make after school and you built up a whole lot of scenarios of what would (hence) happen at school, home and tuition and many other such cases.

We all (mostly) develop some thumb rule for our self evaluation to make sure the steps we are taking is correct. Like, if the action does not hurt me, its okay, or if the action does not hurt my parents or my family in any way its OK, etc. What we fail to understand and what most of us understand only when we are too mature to fall into such decision making situations, is that – right and wrong are relative terms. Right and Wrong are not opposite , but complimentary terms. Something is wrong because there is something else which is right. This is what the ancient Chinese theory of YIN-YANG also suggests.

To understand it a little deeply, it takes immense patience and deep interest in getting to the girth of the problem. What makes you think what you’re going to do is wrong? What is the right to it? Lets say, we are talking of bunking a class and going around with friends. Going around with friends would not have been wrong if it was not on the behest of bunking the class, which is right (here). Once, you start dividing cases into right and wrong and understand that wherever there is something that’s going wrong, simply hints towards a right that co-exists.

Another theory that can help you decide and come to conclusions is the fact that anything that happens – happens for a reason and because of a reason. If you got attracted to someone, simply means there was something which led you to get attracted, or, lets say, you could not finish your targets at office, means there was something somewhere which led you to not accomplish the things which you otherwise, could do!

In both these perceptions, we generally consider the end act to be Wrong/Right -which I personally believe is faulty(and I do not intend to force it on anyone). Like going around with friends is wrong or not accomplishing targets is wrong. When this happens, just take a step back and think why? Maybe you got deflected by some personal disturbances from home or at office, which did not give you enough peace of mind to finish off your targets? Once we think this way, we tend to get closer to the root problems and not superficially name the terminal issue at the problem and brand yourself as someone who cannot achieve targets or the term “under-achiever”.

This characteristic of thinking is prevalent everywhere – Corporate bosses, Academicians, students, players, diplomats, bureaucrats, Politicians, actors, etc. Only if we could concentrate on the deeper issues rather than blaming ourselves at the end face completely.
I belong the academic profession and I will give an instance where maybe, this will become clear. A professor is supposed to instruct the pupil in a way, she/he gets trained in the subject area. If the pupil does not achieve the accomplishment, they are designated as “underachievers or weak students”. I would suggest the trainer/faculty to step back a little and instead of the “what” get to the “why” instead. What made this student fall short of the target line? What else could have been done to improve upon this condition. While most universities now have, response forms and several anonymous feedback systems, somehow the internal desire to change is something yet to be observed.

Only if we could somehow spread this idea to all minds, there would be lesser individual conflicts, internal conflicts, lesser suicides, lesser corporate frictions, lesser teacher-student neglect and so much more. We need to understand, the reason for what is happening. Not always will we get a direct reply to the question, but when we dig in a little deeper, somewhere down the wire we will get a satisfactory explanation to our question. Because for everything that is happening, it’s happening for a reason and because of a reason.

So the next time you find yourself sitting at a corner, completely fused out and not getting a way through and finding yourself, already in a myriad of problems, do not run after what will happen, instead run after why did it happen. It is much easier to look back into past – because you don’t need to create multiple scenarios and it will be easier to trace why it happened. You will certainly find yourself in a much much better position and with a way lighter mind.

I am writing this because I have, till recent past, have been a heavy “scenarios cultivator” in my mind for every single decision and believe me, it kills you more than it might help. Do not try to peep in the future, nobody ever could. Peeping in past in way simpler and gives you the reason for your answers much quickly. I have the experience for this and I am really enjoying the way the remedy works. Hence, I felt the need to share so that more and more of you can try this out and make your lives, A LITTLE BETTER. 🙂

Share this with friends or people in contact who you think, Think a lot and create a web of scenarios and get stucked themselves. Tell them the solution lies in the history, not in guessing the future. Let’s leave future forecasting with the data analyst and the scientists. 🙂 Do share you feedback and this rant if you find it useful.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Saturday night.

“ey man, what’s the plan?”
“What plan?”
“This Saturday?”
“Umm.. I am going to arrange my room .. aaaaaand, maybe go with our neighbor to buy a computer for his kid. Come home, cook as usual, and make my bed and just lie down for 2-3 hours calmly with my windows wide open so I could see the moon and then maybe sleep at 2-3 am coz, I ain’t got any office next day! Interesting da?”

The disgust in his eyes, was clear. He regretted why he even asked. I made it a little more indigestible for him. Lol.

I hate it, NO I mean, I REALLY HATE IT, when people ask me what am I going to do for my Saturday? Why do I even need to consider “something special” on a Saturday. I have to cook, I need to clean up the mess I have spread over the week and maybe complete some chores which I could not during the week. After all, I need to restart a fresh week again on the Monday. And yes, I don’t wan’t my Monday to be like “his” Monday. Crawling to the office, half drunk and eyes red. I’d like to start it fresh, beaming with joy and ready to take on things that would come up during the course of the week.

And not that, I hate going to clubs or pubs (I don’t drink though), yea I do like the tempo. I like the feel of it or maybe, sometimes, just the ambiance and interiors. But that will be on a particular weekend when I am really into it, not just because you said that I must go every weekend. I am not the person who just wants to spend the weekend out doing shit and coming home and being shit. No! Weekend for me is refreshment and mine is definitely different that yours (or what you’re pretending to be)

I have been rebuked earlier by my friends, for having solo long walks (ranging from 18- 42 km) or random bagpack to some ancient temple/forts or beaches. Now, how does that give your a chance to say I am boring. my sphere of thinking is certainly different than yours and I accept yours. Go ahead and let me live mine. Don’t push me into your dream weekend just because you’re a flatmate.

It’s becoming a norm these days and I am really worried about it. You cannot simply stand your life working if you start your Monday simply to finish the coming 4 days. It will never work. You will be tired, exhausted and irritated by the end of Tuesday and at max Wednesday Lunch and then again the next 2/3 days will be a burning hell. Then comes your Saturday and all on the name of “refreshments” you go dab yourself into loads of liquor and get stoned parallely only to have a painful and hung Monday- and keep continuing this.

This weekend culture is been celebrated across the globe by FMCG brands, Liquor brands and major food chains across, they simply want you to come and drain away all what you have in things so superficial, you dont even know at the end of Sunday what did you actually do in the last two days. Not that outing is bad, but every freaking weekend- Seriously? Is that all you had in planning for life?

Did you forget the craft classes back in school, where you said you liked making utensils out of newspaper mash, or that notebook you’d made where you pasted all those different leaves and wrote their names. Where is the slam book you’d always keep in your bag’s front chain and take signature from anyone who you thought was special or motivational? Was that not you? Or do these things now, make you less masculine?

I still remember when we had our 10th results. You were so engrossed with those 3 flowers that we sowed in your backyard, that I had to tell you thrice that the results were out. Why don’t you try sowing one more in our balcony beside my aloe vera plant? Wll that make you a weaker software engineer?

Buddy, you had a wierd fantasy of cycling on a rainy day. Remember, we’d played a football match and were returning and you thought it will rain and you on intent made the excuse of stomach ache and we sat under the tree for 45 minutes and we started only when it began to drizzle? Why don’t you join me for a long walk again – I promise you I will keep walking even if it rains.

Friend, I have seen you on all highs and lows. Please don’t make a fool out of yourself saying you don’t like your job. You were so happy and worked so hard for this. Maybe the way you’ve oriented yourself is wrong. Maybe it’s not the job, but you. Come out of those superficial weekends. Stay back home on a saturday. I will help you clear your room mess and when it’s all clean. Sit on the couch and see how the room is transformed. Don’t run in for happiness which are instantaneous, try this out once. If you don’t feel it’s working, that world will always be there. I won’t stop you – Ever! But I believe that won’t happen.

Brother, the kind of human you are within, I know you! I know you still haven’t plucked out that small grass that has grown under our wash-basin somehow, I know you’ve been feeding those 3 puppies when you go out for late night smoke, I have seen you still take out your hands from the balcony when it rains and I still see you pause, everytime we cross that Firefox cycle showroom. Don’t hide what you really want and as far as people who’re going to mock you or taunt you for doing these things- Leave them for me, TERA BHAI HAI UNKE LIYE!

All of us who are somehow trapped into this Neo-corporate lifestyle are slowly becoming slave to the Weekend mentality. I fear maybe this is what is making our work-life balance even worse. Weekends are for you, not for superficial friends, superficial activities. Sit back. Think what are the “real things” you wanted. Nothing of that will make you less professional – believe me! A software engineer and a master at that, practicing sewing on a weekend, is not at all bad.

In this complex world of artificial feelings, relations, artiifcial smiles and even artifical rice and milk, it is indeed tough to find out yourself, to bring the real you out. But, atleast one try – Our own life deserves that one try.

If there is any friend or childhood pal who you think has lost his own self, in this mad race of corporate life, share this with him/her. Give a shout to the real him/her. Maybe your call and support is all that they need to take the first step. Let’s make ours and everyone’s lives better. Give me your feedback on this if you find it amusing ‘or’ offensive, I will be waiting for it.

(these views are strictly my personal opinion and I have not and will never force them upon someone)

Always ranting, Rantzaada.

“Mumma, where are we going?”
“Agra, son. Taj Mahal, Petha, mithai khaenge udhar”
“ye kya hai?”, kid pointing towards the road.
“Road hai, uspe gaadi chalti hai na beta, nice road na?”
“why is it black mumma?” the 5-year old asked.
“Umm, because he is powerful. Batman ke jaise… yaaayyyy!”
“hehehe…yayyy”, the kid laughed.

The journey continued. The black metal top road ran behind with as much speed as the car. The kid could not understand why the road was running back and that too at such a huge speed. He simply could not take his eyes off the shining black National Highway Metal top – Yellow borders and lanes marked, the shiny templates along the road and the dust at the corners of the road. Soon, the NH was over. The beautiful road that he was gazing standing at the window of his family car, INNOVA, was gone. He woke up his mother.
“Where is that road mumma?”
“what road?”, the mother asked half-awake.
“that road, wo kaala wala, sundar road”
“eh, it would have gone no, he will not come with us. He will be there only”
“Why mumma, he should also come and go to Taj Mahal , eat petha and sweets with us, chalo na lekar aate hain road ko, wo ro raha hoga”
“….”, she did not know what to reply.

A 3-year old asked a question which certainly was not thought of.

I don’t know if you have ever thought of this, but a highway if personafied, would turn out to be the most humble and modest person you will ever meet.
They are made with better engineers, bigger machines and many meters of footing and foundation work. They are made to last longer, if compared to other roads, they are undoubtedly “supposed” to be the beast. Young, Smart, Dashing, Muscular, Broad 4-lane shoulders and lane markers that adorn his body like modern tattoos do. Definitely an alpha male if personified. (I do not have any problem with it being an alpha female either. but the physical appearance and my idea of this rant would not match, hence a male).

When these roads are born, there is a huge pomp and show and political and media outcry. It is a big show. Every time. Every single time. They are the terminators of the road industry.
But like most superstars, their personal lives are devoid of intimacy, unconditional love and affection.

They make your journeys so comfortable. Imagine going with a 7-seater Innova, full-load on a country dust-lane. Eh? Difficult to imagine? And then come to this 6-lane beautiful NH. Bliss. You can drive at a 110 without any noise. Shhh!
Highways are the most alienated beings ( if they were) on earth. They do make us all move, from point A to point B, but never ever do we go and meet him personally. How many times have you gone to a highway just for the sake of “going to highway” – rarely and mostly no.

I do not know how many of you reading this will actually relate themselves to a highway. A highway helps everyone reach their destination and in a constant attempt to improve with every trip. A highway does allow you to ride faster, although it knows that higher the speed, more will be the burn the tyres will have on it macho face. You must have seen those tyre brake marks on the highway- haven’t you? Those are the scars you get when you help people move to a better place, to an important place in their lives.

A highway does not demand you to stop and take some time out for them, or just sit for a while and have a little conversation about how the highway was doing and where they are going, what are the plans. Even if the highway asks for it, in a rare case, it would be deemed stupid and be considered a disturbance in travelling.

A highway has no scope for shortcomings – One little patch of rough road, makes it a BAD HIGHWAY. One toll bridge extra makes it a thief highway.

If you ask a highway, he will tell you what is it that he exactly fantasizes –

“maybe a car stops by me, and just stands there and says, wow what a beautiful highway. Maybe the kids come and touch my face and say how rough yet beautiful I was. Maybe the mother comes and pours a bottle of water on my surface, because it’s been 4 months I haven’t touched water and mom, believe me its really very hot out there. I would wish the father comes and removes that stone off my surface because no one would do that for me. I wish the younger sister touches down and whispers in my ear, ‘you are very good, I will come back to you again’, because there are nights when I am absolutely cold and everything around me is silent. The only things that stay on me are dead bodies of dogs, rabbits, cows and sometimes humans. I was not told it would be so difficult becoming a highway.
The more I help people reach their own destinations quicker, the quicker they go away from me. It’s a paradox I don’t understand.I guess I will never be able to understand. All I want is a 5-minute stoppage for me, not on a restaurant, but just for me. Specially for me. Stop by me, talk to me, hear me out. I have got stories to tell, about that aunty who puked on me and I couldn’t run, about that gang of boys – who threw 3 beer bottle and I was hurt, about that trailer of boulders, who dropped so many sharp boulders that my skin got charred.”

Next time when you go to a highway or your favorite one for that purpose, stop at a spot where it’s only you and the highway. If you’re with family, even better. Go and spend some time with the highway. Do not worry, it will not be absurd. The highway will tell you everything on it’s own. Just lend your ears. And believe me it will make your journey special. He will arrange your comfort with all other highways till your last stop. Highways really crave for love, once loved- they can just simply give anything to make you feel happy. 🙂

Now that you have come till the end of the rant, close your eyes and think – “Am I a highway?” , “Is there a highway I have used?”, “Am I still using a highway to reach to a better place?”

If you get an answer to any of these, Act fast! Highways do have a long life, but their sould depart soon. Go save your highway before it becomes a memory. A highway is a medium and never a destination – give atleast that little time due to him!

Share this story with anyone who has helped you travel up in your life, or has made your journey easier. Tell them “You are my highway and I love you“. Give them a hug. Tell them you’re not going to forget and leave them once you reach your destination. This is all it requires to make a highway elated and proud of what he/she has done. Go ahead.

Like and share the story and also share with me any feeback.

Always Ranting, Rantzaada.

Not long back, was I once discussing with a fellow friend about the different accents our friend circle contains – Bihari accent Hindi, Tamil accent English, Gujarati accent Hindi, Ranchi accent Hindi, Odiya accent English, and so on. We were amazed to see, even English which is supposed to be a language of global order also have so many variants. We often keep discussing how people with a higher mother tongue accent in English are usually the ones, most nervous and shy. Probably because they are conscious that they carry the accent. Somehow we all are trying or were trying at a point of time to get away with our mother tongue accent in English/ Hindi and in any foreign language that you are proficient in. But can we really do it?

We do merely change our accents to a Gujarati to a British accent English and we claim that we are better at it. We try and eliminate our Odiya or Bihari touch in Hindi and try to be more like a Delhi’ite would speak. That is not Hindi too. We need to understand this. There is NO original accent to a language. No where in your grammar or recitation classes, would you have been taught “accents”. There were parts of speech, translations, etc. but never a chapter or a lesson called the accents. So, if you also contain an accent to a language – English or Hindi, maybe improving on it is good but having an accent is not bad. There is one very big loss when it comes to trying to eliminate the accent from your language. You tend t disconnect from that language, the expression – both tangible and intangible of that language and start severing nearly everything to remove that accent. Every time you try to remove that accent, you tend to remove a part of your mother tongue from your life. Your language for media changes, your songs list, your movies everything changes. Be cautious. You don’t realise that even when you change from a bihari/odiya/tamilian/telugu/bengali accent to a British accent – it still remains “wrong accent” for the US or the Australians or the Canadians. You will never get it right.

So the better way is be who you are. Let that accent remain. Just make sure you spell, read and write properly. Carrying an accent is natural and you just cannot do away without an accent.

Mother tongue or a local dialect is result of, if not, thousands, hundreds of years of phonetic evolution. Every word that you speak, every phrase, every idiom, every sentence, has the essence of your own culture, the local flavor of life. In a country like India, we are endowed with such a huge diversified language and expressions. Our country has more than 720 dialects – so if we take states and union territories each as a block we have around 20 dialects per block of administrative area. Every dialect has developed with so much precision and experience, it’s not worthy dropping them for any reason whatsoever.

What individuals like us don’t realize is that we are not just a user of the dialect/ language but also the proponents – a link that is endowed with the responsibility of carrying it forward. Something which has been built over many centuries and maybe millennia has to be passed on to the coming generations. So what can we possibly do to preserve and enrich the dialect that we have gained over generations –

First thing first- Do not run away from your accent. You will never be able to and you don’t need to! As your face features, or the tone or the hair and the eyebrows, your accent is also something which is a hallmark of where you belong to. There is absolutely no sense in feeling ashamed for this. Carry it with pride! Your work and ethics matter, not your accent.

Secondly, do not cut yourself off from things connected to your dialect – songs, movies, plays, rhymes, phrases, etc. Make sure you take a responsibility to pass it across the next generation. If you are a family already with kids or someone from the next generation, do not embarrass your dialect and its features infront of them. Introduce them to the dialect and its components and let them learn it. Learn from you. When you are good with your own dialect, there is a confidence which cannot come with any other language. Go ahead learn multiple languages, but do not at any cost forget the local native dialect.

Your native dialect or the mother tongue as we call it, must never ever in your life become a concern for shame, embarrassment or dishnour. Carry your dialect as a badge of honour and social richness. Tell people about it and if people still keep laughing over it – Ignore. It takes a lot of intelligence to understand what is written here. Not eveyrone will. So keep calm and go ahead.

So this was my message for tonight. I really wish people who have already gone ahead and severed their ties with their mother tongue thinking it was primitive and embarassing to keep strigns attached, think once more and go back. Do share with me or in the comment section – what makes your local dialect special?

Always ranting, Rantzaada.

What brings you here?

The hope that I am going to make a confession of the day I cried? Isn’t it just sensational? A guy crying? a mature 27 year old crying – must have been something very very terrible. Something which would have broken him from inside. Something which would have shook his idea of basic instinct. Naah – nothing of that sort happened. I have just tricked you into reading this, just because I want to discuss something which I believe is critical and it won’t require writing very long.
I keep crying. Our body is trained to eject waste outside when it accumulates. So when pain accumulates or when I just feel down, I cry. Helps me calm down. Just because I am a male, doesn’t mean something terrible and tragic only, can break me down. Instances like “Mere dushman mere bhai” song moment in the movie Border or A.R. Rehman’s Vande Mataram and its lines “tere pas hi main aa raha hoon, apni baahein khol de, zor se mujhko gale laga de, mujhko fir wo pyaar de.. o maa”, even this breaks me down.
Yes, I am a male who cries. Cries more often than your sister and maybe some females who cry less often. So??

Does that make me any less human? Or does that make me any less strong? Or does that make me emotionally brittle? Well, none of that! My crying is more often than not a result of my wish to cry. Ofcourse, there are times, when situations are beyond your control. But mostly yes. I have been supported and shouldered by many friends, when I cry, by saying,” kya yaar, ladkiyo jaise ro raha hai”, “ladka hoke aise kaun rota hai,chup kar”,etc.

Let me clear this out to anyone and everyone. Crying is gender-free, strength-free and also, everytime I cry does not mean I am in a depression. I cry because it makes me feel light. I might attract mockery at me for saying this, but yes, then that’s me. Precisely me, period.

I have had tough times in my life. Times of pressure, parental expectations, failures and hopelessness all at same time. I have successfully overcome each one of those situations by not allowing the pain to settle down in my mind for weeks, months, years. I put on my headphone, enter my “weeping playlist”, hit play and sitback and enjoy. Enjoy the transition of pressure to freedom, from strained eyebrows to relaxed ones, from a confused look to a smiling face. It is the quickest activity that brings me to peace and I can attend to other important chores in my life than to keep sitting and thinking it over and over.

I don’t say perennial crying is also good. If you cry more often, you must get some clinical assistance, but yes – the sense I am trying to establish is that crying does not make me feminish or weaker (I do not mean feminish = weaker, just two different words, beware! 😀 ) . In fact being feminish has nothing to do with crying. Maybe some girls break down a little more often, but then there are girls who also don’t cry easily and some don’t cry at all. Crying could have had been that frequent with males too, only if we were not loaded with the prejudices and conceptions of “Don’t cry like a girl, Be a man!”

So, next time a friend of yours looks like he is not okay, and wishes to cry or is choking. Put a hand on his shoulder, ask him if he wants to share something and if he still cannot speak and keeps choking, either tell him to cry or be silent. DO NOT EVER say,”why are you behaving like a girl” or “don’t start crying now”. You’d not be making things any easier for him.

Crying is by far the quickest way to elevate your mood when you are sad or depressed or just overwhelmed by emotions. Do not stop yourself from crying when it really comes to it. Publicly or in private that can be your own discretion, but simply remove the jinx from your mind that MEN DON’T CRY.

If you are a student and living away from family, the easiest way to help yourself do this often is to have a list of songs – happy, sad, nostalgia songs, patriotic, devotional, etc. It can be anything. Have a playlist of these songs that can make you weep – every time you hear them. Whenever you feel tensed or just heavy on your mind or stressed, just listen to these songs with maximum attention and believe me if you succeed in shedding a few drops, that will either burst you into further or just end your tear-rolling any further. In both cases, you will feel lighter and much stress-free.

And to all the females out there. Never, ever tell a guy that he should not cry like a girl. Even if you said it without actually meaning it, just to make sure he stops crying. His mind will stop him from doing so instantly and he will move quietly looking like a guy who managed to NOT CRY.

And yes, if there are people around who get worried when you cry – avoid it as long as possible. Your right to expression must not worry your near and dear ones.

That’s all for today. If you see any friend of yours crying or choking and you feel he/she might cry and breakdown, don’t try to stop him/her. Go and support. Put a hand on the shoulder, making sure it’s not offensive, and give the strength your friend needs. Do not jokek, do not kindly make sarcastic comments around the person and make him even more vulnerable to other issues.
And also, next time someone tries to shame a guy for crying, reach out to the guy and say, it’s okay.

Always ranting, Rantzaada!

What’s funny?

Kapil Sharma? Tarak Mehta? Trevor Noah? Abhimanyu? Gupta jee?

There are many many things in this world which are funny.

A dog wearing glasses and dancing on a public square.

A politician saying, I will make sure this happens this time.

Or your parents saying, “beta, bas 12^th kar lo ache se, fir life set”

All of this is funny.

Conversations between young friends and peers is usually funny. While everything else might be funny and amusing, EVE TEASING is not. DEFINITELY IT IS NOT.

Eve-teasing is such a discussed topic. Schools essays, debates, extempore, college group discussions, family parties, ward level political meetings, state assembly women protection bills discussions, national ministers talking about it at Women’s Day, government’s making legislations, etc. At every level, from home to the HOUSE, every one is discussing eve-teasing as a social evil. Fruitful?? Let’s see-

Friend 1: Did you check out that new girl in section C, hot yaa!

Friend 2: Ey man, shut up! She is your bhabhi. Can’t be talking of her this way.

Friend 3: Eh, see see she’s there.

Friend 2: How do I look man, all fine, should I go?

Friend 1: Go bro, go talk to her.

Friend 2 goes and talks to the girl . The girls is a friendly girl – she talks to new people, likes making friends, like most of us do.

Friend 2: Saw it bro?

Friend 3: What??

Friend 2: that girl, she walked with me for 56 steps, bro she is interested. She hinted. These are hints only no bro?

Now, if someone intervenes and tells this was wrong, he/she will either be rebuked or that same excuse will be delivered – it was just fun, don’t mind it.

The male side of the idiots are 90% to be blamed for! Definitely they lack the culture and the respect they need to talk to a female. In most cases, these verbal nuances are non-harmful and do not lead to a physical/mental or a social abuse of the lady. This is the eve-teasing I am going to talk about. THE FRIENDLY EVE-TEASING, mostly among groups where people know each other.

The other 10% (this is my personal opinion) fault lies with the girls. Those girls who do away with such teasings without any major effect to them, usually forget two things – they made a mistake by not raising their voice, and number two, they made sure that the guy would certainly go for another teasing the next time when he sees another girl. So you need to take the blame too.

One of my close friends, once was looked from her back while she was working on her workstation. Very close physically and literally the guy’s head was on the neck, just about to touch. I was around. I immediately hinted the girl to move ahead. I asked that guy, what was he looking for and this was not appropriate. The girl remained silent. He did not reply it to me, rather went on with his conversation with her. I backed off.

Once, he went I asked her, if she thought pouncing on her shoulders from back and leaning into your workstation, was that okay? She said no, ofcourse not! I asked her the reason she stayed mum. The answer was, I really don’t want to make a scene here. Where all do I keep making scenes. Its okay, you don’t worry. I am fine, nothing happened. I stayed mum too.

Now here is something that I need to rant about. And rant wildly.

That lady thinks, she had a narrow escape and that nothing wrong  happened with her. But what she doesn’t realise is that she gave that guy, who can be generically quoted to be a class one idiot fellow, with an idea that girls don’t mind if I do that. Had he been rebuked at the first place by the lady, and maybe just a supporting “hmm” when I spoke up, it would have been clear to the bonehead that it was inappropriate and he will be flagged if he does it. By not speaking at one particular instance, you have just made sure, that the next time he does that to a girl, probably with a higher intensity and a deeper intent, he will be all the more confident about it. Maybe that girl is not that fortunate to have a narrow escape as you had. Maybe something bad happens to her. So, for an instance that happened to that lady, you will also be 10% responsible. You must be modest enough to accept the fault.

So, the next time a guy flaunters around, or seems like he is taking your space for granted, or seems like he might just come to an inappropriate vicinity- STOP HIM! Maybe he does not appear harmful, maybe he is a jolly person, maybe a good friend, but these small instances, will build up the vice in him to do something more idiotic in the future with some unfortunate girl. There are ways you can tell – forcibly, scold him or just tell him politely he shouldn’t do it, it is inappropriate. If he is really a good person/friend and was indeed harmless at his intent, he will acknowledge your concern. And if at all he meant some “fun”, he will be informed that these actions of his are “unwanted” and “viceful” and that he must not repeat, whatsoever.

So, my request to all the girls out there – sisters, Friends, special ones, seniors, and literally everyone (eve-teasing is age and condition independent), take a stand when this happens to you next (known circle, unknown people – you know how to handle mostly), tell them it was inappropriate and you felt petrified and tensed. Tell him, if not for you, for the other girls he will move to in the future – maybe a 3 year old kid, or a 45 year old mid-aged woman. Stop the problem, at the root.

IDENTIFY, RISE AND VOICE YOUR CONCERN AND OPINION. BE VOCAL WITH THESE ISSUES. SAVE THE FUTURE.

And that is the small piece for today. This was more of a message I wanted to convey to all my female acquaintances.

If you have ever come under such a situation and you have just let it go because you were okay, share your experience. Do let me know if there was something inappropriate I wrote. And for the guys out there, promise me you will voice out everytime you see an issue like this in your college, workplace, etc.

Always ranting, Rantzaada.

Ever been a Bollywood fan? Yes – No? If you haven’t experienced the stigma around Bollywood, next time you’re in a CCD or a McD having that favorite Mocha or the Big Mac, say “I love Bollywood” and then for the next 10 minutes’ notice the queer views that will pierce you through and through. Maybe you’ll lose some friends on the basis of quality standards and maybe you’ll get some new ones and get inducted to a weird looking nerd camp who love Bollywood movies. Welcome to the B-town funk!

Many of us might have heard the direct comparisons made between the Bollywood and the Hollywood movies. Agree, Bollywood does produce some below average and so do most of the production units. I will, here talk of the emotions and the exaggeration bit of the Bollywood movies and why it does make some sense to us, Indian public.

We, especially the lower, lower middle, middle and a fraction of the upper middle class do believe in magic, out-of-the-world-realm and exaggerations that lead to happiness. We are used to so much of oppression, limitations, unjust endings and threshold, that it makes all of us feel satisfied when we see the protagonist actually fighting the odds and making it to the happy end. We rarely care what happens next, but yes, that end brings a smile to our faces and probably our hearts too.

We are all protagonist in our own lives, in our own stories and few of us reach to a happy station. All others (might include me and you, too) succumb to thresholds, limitations, peer or family pressure and just about so many hurdles. Recount the number of times in your life, you have given up on something because there were hurdles that could come in the way of your family or friends? In most cases, if the hurdles were to be faced alone, we usually are less hesitant. Like preparing for a tough examination, or having a fight with the guy next door or doing a night out outside your girl’s house to wish her happy birthday the next morning when she wakes up. These individual sacrifices and hardships really don’t matter, but when you know and understand that the aftereffects will spread far beyond you, there is the limitation and you cease to proceed. Cases like selecting a career, going for a family function which you don’t want to, pressure of securing high in examinations, finding a life partner, etc. . Etc. are all cases wherein we cease to navigate freely. We succumb to our conditions. 

 That is the reason why, when a protagonist fights with 10 villains one by one, that sense of justice prevails, it provides that calmness we know this is something extremely impractical. But still the child within us claps, when a guy after being heartbroken suddenly becomes laborious and becomes a millionaire within 2-3 years, we find the sense of justice prevailed. Movies are not always about the practical and the art within, sometimes it is just about making the bunch of 200 audiences sitting there inside, happy and content.

There are different genres of cinema, as so in any art form or performance arts. Let us not make it a “my genre is better than yours”. Remember, not every two people might have the same taste. Movies and cinema mean different things to different people. For a cinema connoisseur, movies might mean something different, for a bank employee who wishes to have a great Saturday evening with her family, it might be something different. For a daily wage laborer who has saved single penny over the past 3 weeks and now has 70 rupees to watch that one movie in a single screen theater, for him the sense of those 2.5 hours is different. Let’s understand the difference. We are all beautiful because we are different.

 We need to respect the stories that every mind frames up before entering a cinema hall. Some buy nostalgia, some buy a future, some buy an exquisite art by the experts while some come solely to spend some special moments with someone special. Let’s not humiliate their stories, rather respect each other’s versions and give that space all viewers need to appreciate their own stories.

If you are a connoisseur, try going outside a movie hall with lower middle or lower class audience, get hold of a person you can talk to, and tell him/her – Boss, the movie was brilliant. Check for the response. Check for the judgement he/she makes on the movie. You will realize that the parameters of judgement are completely different for you and them. You don’t sell avocados to people who are looking for bananas and vice versa. Just because their criterion and requirements are different, doesn’t make their story bad and yours a better one or vice versa.

But yes, if they believed the movie wasn’t fulfilling, certainly it didn’t meet their requirement. Still that is not the end, you never know.

It’s easy to remain in your shoes and judge! Hey you – you are bad, you too and yes.. you, you too! You ain’t good either. Let’s just call it a day and see things with a fresh pair of vision.

I am a devout fan of the movies of Govinda, Dilip Kumar and many others. There are good movies and there are bad movies. But the point is, I want to share is that the story, where I am the protagonist is/might be different from the one in which you are the protagonist. Let’s be  the lead in our own stories. Someday, for sure, I will sit with you and watch your part of the story and will invite you to come over and watch my part of the story.

I close it here now. I can keep writing on this for days and nights and not stop at all. Thank you all for reading. If you find there is a friend who is a die-hard Bollywood fan share this with her/him. Also, share with a person who hates Bollywood :D, you never know, something somewhere might change them. J As per the ritual, do tell me your favourite parts and let me know if you  want me to rant on something else too.

Always ranting, Rantzaada!

Today I first pay my revered homage and salute to the veer martyrs and soldiers who fought back in 1999 in this month against our neighbouring country and reclaimed the outposts on the 26th July’99. Happy Vijay diwas- and kudos to the team of Operation Vijay (army), Operation Doodh Sagar (IAF) and the Operation Talwaar ( Indian Navy).
Today, on Vijay Diwas I am overwhelmed with the memories I have of those days and how every news bulletin would enlist names of the “then” declared martyrs and how desperately and with a heavy heart we searched for names of jawans from our state or relatives and then sigh a little but cry on the number of others we lost from INDIA.

I do not have a direct connection with Kargil’99, but yes, I do remember the days. Clearly. I was in Class 2 then, and mature enough to understand what war meant and what losing a fellow family member to a war did. It was approximately around Kargil or maybe after Kargil, well into the new millenium, in 2000 that the movie Border started having regular appearances on the Doordarshan television – Sunday’s mostly. That was one day and today is one day – 26th July 2019. 20 years. I watched this movie for the 57th time and I never watch Border skipping. Maybe a few songs sometimes, but not Sandese Aate Hain. This song has a special mention in my life. I wish to really take you to a journey akin (0.2% maybe) to that moment of a soldier when he touches a letter – a postcard or an inland in his hand, lies down in his bunker or at a desolate place somewhere in solitude and read those few words and try to find out the whole of his life and all his/her relatives in those few words. Those were the days, when postcards had the smell of your home – the oil in your mother’s hair, the smell of your bedsheet or the smell of the kitchen in which a lady keeps waiting for you to return and demand for food. :’)

While I take you along this song, keep a glass water and a tissue or a kerchief with you, because till date I have not been able to listen to this song without wet eyes. Come with me on a journey of nostalgia and rush of emotions.

संदेशे आते हैं
हमें तड़पाते हैं
तो चिट्ठी आती है
वो पूछे जाती है
के घर कब आओगे (x2)
लिखो कब आओगे
के तुम बिन ये घर सूना सूना है
Understanding the feeling of communicating through letters is easy, but feeling it is tough. Just imagine once. You wish to talk to a near one. You go buy a letter, write it, buy a stamp, send it via post, they recieve it, they read. (This entire time x 2) is the minimum you need to hear from them. For an average distance of 500km it might take you 4-5 days at the minimum given no time wasted by the post. A little tough, feel it?
So, every time a mother/wife/sibling/ father wrote, when will you come back, try feeling the wait for the answer. It’s a load not all hearts can feel. Our mobile generation, surely cannot. I myself cannot.

किसी दिलवाली ने
किसी मतवाली ने
हमें खत लिखा है
ये हमसे पूछा है
किसी की साँसों ने
किसी की धड़कन ने
किसी की चूड़ी ने
किसी के कंगन ने
किसी के कजरे ने
किसी के गजरे ने
महकती सुबहों ने
मचलती शामों ने
अकेली रातों में
अधूरी बातों ने
तरसती बाहों ने
और पूछा है तरसी निगाहों ने
के घर कब आओगे (x2)
लिखो कब आओगे
के तुम बिन ये दिल सूना सूना है
Love life wouldn’t have been simpler either. The life of a soldier (those days) was such that their spouses would not know exactly what might reach the threshold of the house first – a letter, the smiling soldier on a holiday or a coffin wrapped in a tricolor. You never knew! Things were tough back then and still much.

(I have skipped a few stanzas, else the post would become unbearably long, but I’ve made sure to keep the most important and summarizing lines)

ऐ गुजरने वाली हवा बता
मेरा इतना काम करेगी क्या
मेरे गाँव जा
मेरे दोस्तों को सलाम दे
I will break this stanza into multiple parts, because it requires adequate attention. I hope this must be the most emotional and favorite part of the song for many. Many of us might still wish, we could send our feelings through the air. text messages and calls cannot transfer the trembling of our scared lips, or the length of the smiles for our loved ones, or the wetness of the swollen eyes, when you fear you’d lost someone close. Technology will never do it. Cannot do it! We do feel it, right? When a gush of wind comes on your face, just imagine it came with the touch of your parents on your head, or the feel of your partner holding your hands. This part of the song has that strength. Listen to these lines, feel a gush of wind on your face and imagine the feelings you wish would come from somewhere across the globe. Check for the smile and send a selfie. Yes, technology can do that! 😀

मेरे गाँव में है जो वो गली
जहाँ रेहती है मेरी दिलरुबा
उसे मेरे प्यार का जाम दे
उसे मेरे प्यार का जाम दे
Ever shared spoons with your loved ones, or shared a glass of water from the same edge? How does it feel? Cannot specify exactly?
Imagine the expectation the soldier here makes from the gush of wind or the breeze. To carry that moistness of the lips, or the firm hold of the hand, or that one tight hug which he/she could not make, while leaving home. And you know the wonder? There are times in our lives, when the gush of wind does carry this – I don’t know how. For people who believe in magic, believe it, for people who don’t, let’s proceed! 🙂

वहीं थोड़ी दूर है घर मेरा
मेरे घर में है मेरी बूढ़ी माँ
मेरी माँ के पैरों को छू के तू
उसे उसके बेटे का नाम दे
While I write this, I can remember the narrow lane that leads to my house, do you? I can remember me knocking on the door and the sound of my mom walking (yea, people’s walking have particular sounds, I know your’s too 😉 ) and slowly opening the lock on the door and the door opens – and boom! You’re not there. Just a gush of wind again. She smiles, closes her eyes for a second and then puts the latch back on the lock and closes the door. While she turns to move back, she feels a gush of wind again on her neck, she turns again to see if you’re really there and finds the door locked. I belong to the emotional genre of the Sapiens, so I can feel this completely. I hope you do too!

ऐ गुजरने वाली हवा ज़रा
मेरे दोस्तों
मेरी दिलरुबा
मेरी माँ को मेरा पयाम दे
The last line of this part, is followed by a pause. A pause precisely of 5 seconds, one of the most painful pauses, you will ever find in a song. It possibly is the longest pause in a soldier’s life, when he/she is done requesting the gush of wind for reaching out to friends, loved ones and family for carrying the emotions he/she has for them. Now, is the time to decide! Are my words or the gush of winds common to us the only things they deserve? Don’t they deserve my presence? Does my loved one not deserve “our” solitude? Does my family not deserve me having dinner with them one night? Do my friends not deserve my company for the next get-together. The soldier faces the constant turmoil inside the mind and finally wipes the tears, looks back at the small photograph in the wallet and stands up – strong and brave as ever. Full of might and valor.

उन्हें जा के तू ये पयाम देमैं वापस आऊंगा
मैं वापस आऊंगा
घर अपने गाँव में
उसी की छांव में
कि माँ के आँचल से
गाँव की पीपल से
किसी के काजल से
किया जो वादा था वो निभाऊंगामैं एक दिन आऊंगा
मैं एक दिन आऊंगा (x8)

Finally the soldier makes a promise, a promise so hypothetical and abstract as the gush of wind itself. To return home. To return to those narrow lanes. To return to the bench where you spent the romantic solitude with your partner. To return to that same old stall along the roadside where you spent so much time with your close friends.

The point here now is – Who is this soldier? An army personnel, a police or a special agent on a special mission for the nation?
Have a mirror around? take it up – or switch on your phone’s front camera. The face you see? Yes, you! You are that soldier. We all are soldiers – fighting on our own fronts, marched by our own masters. We all have different strategies to follow, different outposts to recover and different LOC’s to abide by.

In this age of technology, we still smell the steel tiffin packed by mom and feel her hands and thee smell of her morning wet hair on it. We still touch a small cadbury bar given to you by that special one and feel his/her fingers on it.

Technology has not taken over us, it will never. NEVER, EVER!

And that’s it for today. 🙂 Hope I managed to make you come along all the way.
Do send a feedback on this piece. I will be longing for a feedback today. Not because I wrote something, but maybe because we all need to keep ourselves firm on our fronts. There is a whole crowd waiting for your valor and pride. Remember those martyrs and brave ones who fought for our lives.

We all cannot be more thankful to Javed Akhtar who gave us these wonderful lines, Anu Malik for the music and the “pause” and ofcourse, Sonu Nigam and RoopKumar Rathod for the vocals which are now, etched in the history of the Indian Cinema. Also, gratitude to JP Dutta for directing what became a masterpiece.

And I call it a day at 11:01 pm. 🙂

17th September, 1996.
Atal Bihari Vajpayee has been the new PM of India 3 months back for the first time and resigned witin 16 days. The morning news @6.30 am shows a speech of the PM from the resignation day. 16 inch small squarish Thomson TV. Remote? – eh, no! Remotes were only for robots those days. You had to go to the TV and catch hold of that pointer (the ones you have on microwaves these days) and move it clockwise to chose one of the 3 channels on your tv – DD 1, DD Metro and DD 2. (Talk of choices 😛 )
While, I sat there half-asleep after the hearty breakfast (I hated the every morning ghar ka khana, my mom just won’t let me eat something from the market), my father directs me to take a piece of the old lungi he wore and go out and throw water on the scooter. It was Vishwakarma Puja and we were about to clean every mechanical device in our house and do pooja. 🙂 Eh, fun!
There he stood outside – broad chested, masculine shoulders and impressive eyes. The complexion of Nelson Mandela and the machoism of Hulk Hogan – Bajaj Chetak (4-stroke), metallic charcoal grey. This was something that could carry us 4 at one go. My sister (just 2 years old then) would kneel down in the front, then my dad, then me (comfortably sandwiched between my dad and my mom) and then my mom and then the 5th member of this family – the stepney tyre 🙂
Life was simple then. Choices were less, the joys were more. We would be happy with a 50p pepsi (in plastic tubes, lol). The only fantasy in life was to get that playing machine. I did not know what it was, but it had several components – something which looked like a colorful cassette and a VCR and something with a lot of small buttons on it. My friends called it the playstation, for my understanding I perceived it as a tv where you control the characters. It was a dream which was never fulfilled. Damn!

Some time in 1997
I was finally into a school. Upper KG. No more nursery stamps. Finally a boy. I could now go and play cricket with those big guys from the 4th standard in the evenings. I was a pacer then and Waqar Younis was my idol. The usual schedule was come back home at 12-12.30 sitting in an auto cramped with 15 kids with some super seniors from the 5th class ( Damn they were aggressive with us kids. argghh! ) and then sleep and wake up at 3.30pm, slip out from your house and return 7pm only when your parents dragged the shit out of your ears. The sense of romance and love had already begun and in those days love was eternal. You would simply go and tell your lady,”hum tere se shaadi karenge” and your lady would reply with a smile,” haan, theek hai”. 😀
The WWF (if you know what it means) craze was at an all time high, and because there was no “cable” connection at my house, I would keep hearing stories of how Hulk Hogan and the Rock fought and how the Survivor series of 97 saw the biggest names fighting and clashing -Steve Austin , Shawn Michaels and so many more. I had an idea of putting a safety pin around the neighbours “cable” wire and pin it to my Antenna wire, but I feared my parents would find out. I could’ve seen cable channels with a little lower clarity. But man! It needed guts.

Childhood memories are always good. Nearly for anyone. You ask your grandparents they would tell you the same, that their childhood was best. We claim the same, millennials claim the same. I believe, anyone born till ’96 (I got some special people out there in this block, so i will include them :D) is a 90s kid! 90s kids enjoy a special dichotomy – the transition of the manual to automatic. We have used the Rotary dials as well as the “beetle” landline phones. There was a time when “Caller ID’s” on the telephones were considered to be “Elite and Sophisticated technical gadget”.

We have seen Inland letters, Postcards, Greeting cards, Landline telephones, Money orders, Telegrams, Wireless Black giant Motorola handsets ( or maybe the pencil box, atleast :P) to Nokia handsets. We belong to a generation when cycle meant the black big cycle, when Movies meant the ones on Sunday afternoon 2 pm after you would freshen up post Shaktimaan.

We have been through getting 2 Rupees per week financial support (then called pocket money) for eating that chaat outside the school. And that too only when you auto uncle was late that afternoon. 90’s kids will never struggle with leaving back technology once in a while, because we have spent the formative years of our life doing that. Those were times, when Boost was prescribed by Sachin Tendulkar himself, and Lux (yes, you got it) by Hema Malini herself. When Onida was a brand and the demon was the funniest demon we had.

When a few days, we could bunk school and stay back, the joy of seeing TARANG at 10 am on DD1 was inexplicable. Watching Arvind Gupta doing all those crafts with paper and those cartoons and puppet dances, just made you feel special. You had something to talk to when you went to school the next day. 🙂 (Arvind Gupta is still my idol and I have been lucky to have a conversation on mail with him)

Life was really good then. The codeword to friend ship was, “humko bhi khelne doge apne sath?” – Just this! Those were the days, when sisters could join in cricket, but would be limited to batting and wicket keeping at the most. It was a gentlemen game afterall! 😀 Homeworks like writing the predecessor and successor of 10 numbers really resulted in fatigue and learning the poem in Hindi (4 lines, precisely) meant 6 days of mugging up. (well, mugging up is still not my cake)

As 2000 dawned upon, the 21st century brought a hell lot of changes to our lives. The 4 hour evening games contracted to discussions of cartoons and pokemons and Uncle chips tazzo cards, and Marbles WWE stickers. Then came the threshold which, had I been given an option, I would have never crossed –TEENAGE. I became taller and my voice grew manlier, friends became meaner, we couldn’t fit on a scooter anymore. You couldn’t sleep together – all 4 in one bed anymore. Your friends, somehow cared more about the marks and the type of clothes you had. GROWING TALLER SPLITS YOU FROM YOUR SURROUNDINGS.

As a write this today, alone in a room, slight feverish, I am really confused whether to keep the fan on or switch it off. Sometimes you just want to go back in the time, when the biggest worry for a Sunday was to wake up at 7 so you could watch Rangoli and sit infront of the tv for the whole day. Families, friends and close ones, now are at a distance and you seem to hide everything, because you know they won’t be able to help but will get tensed instead. This is the confused life of the 90s kids presently.

We have been conditioned in a very humane environment with lots of people, manual operations lots of time, lesser deviations and more of friendships.Fast forward now, we cringe infront of a laptop the whole day. Probably the reason why 90s kids miss their generation the most!

And today, contrary to the previous days, I end my rant at 11 o’clock! 🙂

If reading this brought a smile on your face, comment and let me know. For kids who are reading this and are a millenial, you gotta listen to more stories of the 90s, kid! 🙂

Always ranting, Rantzaada!

24th July 2006 

10:25 am.

“Mam, can I go to the toilet?” she said.

A wierd exchange of eye contacts and the teacher let’s her out.

“Mam, you did not allow us, but you did allow her!”, Varun a fellow classmate, a 13 year-old asks the teacher.

“She is not well Varun”, the teacher replied.

“haah! She was fighting with me in the morning, shouting at me like a dog and the teacher says she is ill! What liers!”

I gaze at the guy silently. I wanted to go ahead and explain it to him, what just happened. But the public sense of disgrace crept in. I remained silent.

17th October 2007

The school Principal, “today we have a lady counselor with us who wants to have a session with all girls today, the girls, hence, will walk directly to the multipurpose hall, while the boys will move to the class.”

The confusion after the chaos began.

“Ey, where are they taking them?”

“I saw the lady taking bags of tablet, we will ask them once they come back, lets enjoy the free periods till then”

“Mam, where are the girls going, is there some function or motivational lecture?” a boy asked, inquisitively.

“No, they are giving some counselling for girls with low hemoglobin, you do your work. Don’t think so much – Sit down!”

One of the lady counsellor’s who had come was an acquaintance from one of the HIV AIDS program at YMCA, of which I was a peer educator back in 2005-2009. I knew what it was about. I felt it was necessary. I wanted to tell mam not to hide it but explain it to us. Boys needed to know about it too. This half has to be aware of the issues of the other half.

But I stayed silent, again!

Fast Forward, 19th June 2019.

I see a lady placing a hand on her abdomen and asking her friend to come towards the corner. They whispered and murmured. I went close to ask, what was the issue. They said, nothing! Just a little fever. I passed by. Looking back at the lady, just in case she asks for help again.

I knew what was going wrong, what was the issue and what that lady required. But I stayed mum. I should’nt have!

Now, this has been eating my head and that’s when I decided to rant.

Its 11:01 pm precisely and it’s time I spread out what’s in my head.

To all the girls out there, you don’t need to hide you discomfort. You don’t need to be embarrassed for the stain you left on the chair last week. You don’t need to whisper and murmur with your friend, telling her that you are cramping and need to lie down. You are not required to walk with me or anyone for work purposes, with your hurting legs and abdomen and say there is no issue. You don’t need to do that, because I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GOING THROUGH!

I am embarrassed that all you girls have had to go through such embarrassing situations all your teenage and maybe, still. The looks when you get up and leave for the washroom out of nowhere, the looks when you say, I cannot drive today. The looks when you stain a chair just because you were in class when it happened and you gave your studies a little more preference than the cramps and the pain that spread upon you in seconds. I plead sorry, on behalf of everyone- male or female who has ever contributed in making THE PERIODS so shame-worthy and secretive, including me.

And to all the boys out there, just cut the crap this very moment. If you’re reading this, make a promise to yourself right now that you ain’t gonna mock any girl – junior, senior, small sister, mature ladies, office bosses, a co-passenger in the bus, or any lady who comes through, while she is in her menstruation. We boys will never have an idea what pain they go through.Forget about the menstrual pain, even the PMS (Pre-menstrual syndrome) pain will kill you guys. You heard of IBS ( Irritated Bowel syndrome)? One of the most painful intestinal disorders – I have been through recently! Believe me it’s impossible to sleep straight. I spend the whole night standing just because I couldn’t figure out when and where the pain will start. I asked the lady doctor, is this how bad period cramps are? she said, IBS is relatively lower in intensity, just that it is continuous and for a longer duration. Period cramps are intense and they can just make you sit wherever you are.

So next time you realise a girl is in “those days of the month”, go to her. Make her smile. Ask her, if she wants something sweet to eat. Talk about all the good things that can make her happy. She lacks Serotonin ( the feel-good chemical) in her. She might freak you out initially, but let it go with a smile. Realise what she is going through. Give her some chocolates, or chips or some carbs. Don’t leave her stranded alone, or kills her self-confidence with that evil look. You must realise YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE THERE WAS A LADY WHO COULD BLEED PROPERLY AND WAS READY TO HOST YOU.

To all those reading this. Let us respect one thing. I see many females also, having ill-thoughts about ladies who are in their periods and come to work. Menstruating women do not need your SYMPATHY! Just be normal with her, the way you are everyday. She might just brush you off sometimes, but it’s okay. She is under immense pressure of mood swings. She will shout at you and then cry for doing that. So, that doesn’t matter. She is trying to behave normal by coming to college or work (with all that pain and cramps and discomfort) and all she wants from all of us is normal behavior and maybe a few chocolates. 😀

For the girls, it’s ok if you don’t want to open out the news of your periods, it’s okay – it’s your privacy, but remember, there are guys who are absolutely okay and will not make fun of you. Try believing. We can really make those tough days for you a little less tougher. We all can go out in big groups and treat you on ice creams and chocolates and french fries. (It’s unhealthy though :P) We all love you. For your existence. For the smiles and work despite of the pain. For the dedication towards the work and studies. You never skipped an exam because of periods, never skipped a meeting because you were bleeding. We appreciate that.

And for the guys out there, let’s make a pledge. When a girl in your friend circle is in her periods, share an extra laugh with her. Try giving her a chocolate. Try not to be a donkey to her. 😀 And NEVER EVER HUMILIATE A GIRL IN HER PERIODS – NEVER, period.

Thanks for reading through this. I really wanted to share this since long-but didn’t have a platform to. Now that I have one, I shared. All girls who read this, comment “I heard you” and the guys comment “I promise” below. Do not mind demanding a chocolate from me next time you’re in your days. 😉

Share this with all your friends and tell them, let’s not “whisper” about it anymore. Lets help our peers cross the days with fun and joy and a little less pain. Lets share with our female friends, that the next time you feel sick or you just want to rant because you had a mood swing, I AM ALL EARS!

This might not be a very big change in the larger scheme of the things going wrong, but it will certainly be a good step in fading the stigma around the periods. Let me know if you want me to write about something you always wanted to rant about. And yes, if someone wants to just speak up, you can speak out your heart to me. I am all ears! 🙂

Always ranting, Rantzaada!