Dirty Women

[[Complicated post; part fiction, part real]]

They saw the world from a different angle, the four of them. You could argue they were almost supposed to do that given who they were - they were meant, in a way, to have that unique enlightening view that common-folk of the planet would regard too obnoxious, unrealistic, disgusting, or well, plain dirty. But it went much beyond the call of duty and the hard-coding of genes. M, A, N and S, (henceforth referred as MANS collectively) were all brilliant, one-of-a-kind, delightful women living life wholly, but together they could effortlessly do the undoable and think the unthinkable - together they rose far above the world on the thought-deed matrix. MANS, in one of the most underestimated under-appreciated ways possible, were some of the most precious gems of the world.
Who got lost, but more on that later.

You may ask me why am I narrating this story today. To me MANS symbolised the breaking of conventional barriers and imposed moral obligations. To me MANS represented a continuous wave of delight, freshness and energy conquering the darkness. And each of them had an individual story because of which, and despite which, they became who they were.

M had lived a life where being sick wasn't a choice, it was a destiny. She craved for the confines and safety of the home, but time threw her out in an unkind world that cared only for money and forced her, in one of the more painful ways, to slave for it. A and S together had been the best of friends and the best of enemies all their life, but beneath their complicated relationship was an appreciation of what each had lived through before and after they got to know each other, and a mutual respect for their admirable spirit towards life. The devil lies in the details, but it would be fair to say A had experience bearing the vagaries of the weather of life, and that made her someone you could count on to step up in difficult situations even while being charming in her beautiful delicate feminine ways. When A was around, a smile was never far. S on the other hand, had grown in a wilderness where so-called modern civilization was largely absent, and a sudden transportation to this other far more complicated world had intimidated the little chirpy kid in her so much it was now only intermittently visible. Time continually moistened her eyes till she hardened her heart and by the time I met her she had learnt to be indifferent to most things around her and preferred to live in her own constructed world of incomplete moments and solitary walks. N I knew the least about - the vastness of her heart concealed a lot I could probably never imagine, and the rest was brushed aside in a warm omni-present smile. She was the most productive on most occassions, metaphorically speaking, showing a depth of perspective only S could occassionally match.
Four people so different yet connected not only by circumstance that put them in a battle together, but by a mind that refused to be numbed and by the refusal of the world to accept them for who they'd been made to become.

Again, why I am I going on and on about this story and these four complicated people. I don't know. These four were thrown together under strange circumstances, a time of crisis, but very soon I saw them discover each other and what they had in common. I saw them smile, despite their differences, their pains and despite the challenge the world threw at them. I saw the world crig and cringe because they were women, they weren't supposed to be "good", they weren't supposed to be bold and vocal, and because they weren't supposed to be "different" from the world. But they were. And that makes me admire them. And love them all. They had a lesson for the world - be true to who you are, and what you feel. They won, and it gave me a hope to fight on. Maybe that's why I'm sharing this today.

It was painful to watch them move away, but such was life - there are no happily ever after. A was snatched away by yet another cruel twist in her life, but then, there was other people and places that she had to spread her magic on. S grew to be more indifferent, more detached to the world and one day decided to just quit. M and N persevered some more, but eventually they all were back alone, fighting alone with the world, trying not to conform, being themselves. It was tragic, to say the least, but such is life.

People move on. But some of them teach us many important things. Even dirty women.

Pause

Every single time I watch your eyes
as they watch me leave.
They do not flinch -
they almost don't believe.
I pause, and look for a sign
something to stop me from going
Sometimes in the haze of your eyes
I see an old passion glowing
but too soon, alas, is it overpowered
by an angry, ruthless, indifference
and a hatred for what you see on my face
something you once held in reverence.
It pains me to watch you quit
on yourself, and on your right to me
It pains me the snigger with which you acknowledge
I'll come back tomorrow, wherever I be
I wish you would stop me, and never let me go
I wish too that I could just leave forever
I wish you could own me like you once did
or else I could just disown you forever
But the ice doesn't break.
You shut your eyes on me.
The pause is over.
It's time for me to leave...

Reign of the nights

Thoughts have returned home
after running astray
to a mind blanked
and withered away
the sunshine is lost in a corner
while the night dances away
I wonder
as the darkness devours the gray
Am I a scavenger of the night
...or a prey?

Waiting...

It's a silent night
A lonely sight
An endless wait
A battle with fate
I sit and listen
The moonlight glistens
I only hear
A voice not here
Not near, yet around
The echoing sound
Of your smiles
That all these miles
Haven't dumbed down
Or hummed down
I can hear
You, loud and clear
As you slowly say
"A hectic day!"
And hit the sack
On your back
I can hear
You lying there
Shutting your eye
Bidding Goodbye
Fading is the light
And I say Goodnight
(Why do I care?
When he doesn't even hear?)
It's still a lonely night
Even you're out of sight
I sit here quiet
Hearing the night fight
With itself and its gloom
That now envelops the room
Absorbing the sound of your smile
Coming from across the mile
I sit and listen
As the moonlight glistens
To the clamour of memory
The tears of history
The wailing of tomorrow
I listen, without sorrow
Sleep evades me tonight
As you now sleep tight
And dream the un-dream-able
I live the un-live-able
I am not yet lost
Haven't yet paid the cost
Of a silent past
An aweful cast
That ruined the drama
A musical panorama
But it's all right
It's a long night
You sleep and dream
Flow like a stream
If you ever get tired
I haven't retired
That day I shall hold you
Till then let her behold you
Till then I won't sleep
I'll let the night creep
For now it's just me
A night, and a moon's glee
An endless wait
A battle with fate
That's all that's there in my life
Without you, I'm not alive.

Give me some sunshine, give me some rain!!

...give me another chance, I wanna grow up once again!!!

What a wonderful movie. Thoroughly entertaining and enjoyable from start to end. Despite Kareena Kapoor, despite a couple of really slap-stick jokes, despite a few slightly "message"-ful scenes in the first half and despite the fact that it's said to be inspired from a largely crappy book, this one is a real gem of a movie.

Love Aamir Khan, love being able to relate to the movie so much, love my company for organizing everyone to see it. Worth seeing at least a few times for being a movie that manages to have the right mix of emotion, entertainment and substance for the most part.

Go watch 3 Idiots people, it is the Andaz Apna Apna of 2009! (and show it to your parents)

Being 18 again

The most unexpected of things has happened. Or at least, I am guessing that's what it is.
The chaos in life is back. The sinusoids are back. The random events, random people, freshness, impulse and wide range of emotion within a span of 24 hours - they are all back.
I don't feel comfortably numb any more like I did a few months back - neither of those two, actually. I almost feel like I'm 18 again - in a much different, older, almost-23 kinda way, but I almost feel that craziness of life. Things don't make sense. People seem different and distant., and nobody's close enough to keep me protected, so I can be wild again, wandering around like Brownian motion. New people and random conversations keep appearing every few weeks from nowhere, adding spark to a life that's suddenly started looking highly unlivable every few days . The stress is killing me. The loneliness makes me want to cry. New unexplored adventures make me happy and unleash energy that I have no clue I had. I am making new connections that don't make sense. I am "feeling" love and pain and joy and disappointment, and given that I'm almost 23 and not almost 18 and hence considerably more cognizant (also have significantly less margin of error and license to thrill) it feels different.

The adrenaline is back, don't know where all this is going to lead.
Whichever way, I'm loving it.

The art of not caring

There's one thing I have to give to Mumbai: it's one city where by and large people will leave you alone as long as you don't fall in their way. The apathy or indifference or whatever you may choose to call it, is fairly high, and there are both good and bad sides to it.

On one hand, there would be people like my deranged lunatic landlady who only care about getting more and more money out of you and be completely unsympathetic to your point of view. People will largely refuse to help you out of any humane instincts, only if it profits them somehow. The fanatics will get away with whatever speeches they want to make and the govt will get away with not doing anything because nobody will care enough to question, and those who comprehend will not care enough to vote.

But on the good side, it means by and large you can be yourself and random people would not stare at you. Neighbors will not get nosy even if you consistently come past 2 am at home. If you manage to stay away from the moral police types, you can conveniently walk hand in hand with a guy, wear skimpy clothers, get sloshed etc. And you can sit at Marine Drive alone at midnight, stare at the dark sea and cry all you want for an hour and nobody would bother.

I feel slightly lost in the hurried sea of people running about me. Part of it could be being forced to grow up so soon, and being so alone in all of it. Dunno. Nobody cares for anyone, and that's why they just add "take care" and absolve themselves of any responsibility and concern. Nobody expects you to care, either. Is this what it's like to be an "adult"?

If you care, you just get disappointed all the time. If you don't care nothing matters so you are never upset
- Calvin

Maybe I'm over-reacting. It should get better, right?
Life is not easy, but it's still good.

All I am..

... is a small kid in a big, bad, confusing world.

Sigh..

Bits and pieces from a consultant's life: Chapter 1

Three months is a long time in consulting - long enough, I reckon, for me to begin writing my memoirs. In any case, the rate at which my hair are graying and my memory cells degenerating, I fear I'd be too senile too soon to remember any of this. :)

Many, many people have asked me what do I do as a consultant. Depending on the context and the person quizzing me, I find a different answer each time. But if I were to reflect and give a neat three bullet point summary (rule #1: There are always three points about everything!) about what I do just to myself, I think I'd struggle. Being a consultant is being so many different things at once, from a hardcore analyst to an efficient networker to a top class call center executive as you adopt both their lifestyle and cold-calling skills. Being a consultant is about learning and unlearning a lot of things really quickly - from being a manager to being a
waiter taking food orders ( :D especially true if you're the junior-most member on the team!).

Last month we were in Kuala Lumpur for regional training, and one of those team-building/ice-breaker games was built on a speed date format, meant to give us a chance to know and interact with our colleagues from other offices. It is amusing how invariably "How's your work-life balance?" was one of the top three ice-breaker questions, and how people found solace in knowing people elsewhere were just as screwed as they were. It was an-almost cheerful feeling of bonding.
The people around you are the single biggest reason what keeps people doing this job. I'm really lucky though, I work out of office for this project and it's a series of pranks and cracks at one another, interspersed with some work. Absolutely adore my team, even the bosses (except when they become too bossy :P). More than anything else - even more than the fact that I enjoy what I do despite obscene hours- so far, that's what keeps me going. Making fun of my 'boss' for wearing a pink shirt, or sending silly emails from each other's accounts to the entire floor, I suppose that's all I remember now.

I've been told I'd be a different person, at least in terms of work and work maturity, at the end of one year here. I don't know how true it is, but I sure can feel some growth, and all I wish for is that I'm still the same person at heart. Silly, naughty, sensitive kiddo.

There are several joys of consulting, and there are several pains. But that's true everywhere, isn't it. There are thrills in consulting, and that has somewhat fewer parallels elsewhere in the world. There are also kills, but let's not go into those. :)

Cheers to living another day.

330 am

As I woke up my building guard yet another time this week, at an ungodly 330 am of the morning, he added, alongwith his usual sleepy marathi gaalis, "Sunday ko bhi sabse late?" Given that the taxi driver dropping me off had already asked if our call center worked sundays also (the Meru guys are now used to the 2 am phone calls from or office address), I wondered if it was a happy thought that I returned home at night happily alone as my team slogged another half hour in office or whether it was just sad to be happy about it on a sunday night (or monday morning!). It is a beautiful time of the day, with silent streets waiting to wake up, the sea watching the shores like a watchdog, the stray cars, policemen, couple and bunches of random people loitering around, and enough silence to let you talk to yourself, with whatever energy left. Some days though, the newspaper guy beats me to my home, and once in a while my roommates look at me bewildered because I'm back home before they've slept off. Both are amusing events

This city, and this job, has so far kept me off any monday morning blues whatsoever.