Faith and Death are Neighbors !

I haven’t written for a while now, nothing too interesting has been happening I kept telling myself, maybe there was a part of me hoping that something would come up, but as of this morning I was a content kid on vacation, back home, utterly and pleasantly jobless, spending quality time with my family, putting on lost weight and making up for lost sleep, and then, it happened.

Normal , pleasant morning it was, woke up feeling cold, a customary coffee, followed by seeing my brother off to college and a sumptuous  breakfast (3 masala dosas ).  The plans were made , ill spare you the astrological details, it’s an auspicious day to visit a subramanya swamy temple (To those of you who aren’t familiar with the name , he is the elder brother of ganesh(our elephant-headed god who is pretty famous)).

We reach the temple around half past eleven and are promptly told by a flower-vendor that the temple doors were closed 5 minutes ago, his neighbouring competitor(or wife, I’m not sure) another vendor tells us to follow an elderly looking man clad in a white dhoti, and follow him we do, for mom was determined to take me to that temple today, and voila, there is another entrance, we go inside, partake teertha (holy water) after the mangala-aarti , finish the darshana and head out.

Being the bangaloreans we are, the first thing dad and I do is scout around for something to eat, and turns out that we were in the vicinity of one of the oldest bakeries in Bangalore called the V B Bakery, we finish packing a week’s supply of cookies, buns and cakes, and leave to return to the car, Then, it happened .

Now I’ve read a lot of accounts, heard a lot of stories, seen my share of movie scenes depicting Near Death Experiences, but let me tell you this, Nothing can prepare you for it, nothing can ever describe that feeling, I don’t know if what I experienced was near death per se , No, I did not see a great white light, all I saw was the bumbling fool of a rider who sped towards me like a drunken monkey while I was crossing the road with my dad.   

I know I’m not goal-keeper material (to me they are as fearless as people get),  I’m just an average joe(pun intended) when it comes to the courage department, but when I saw that moron speeding /spiralling towards me, I was actually calm, I mean I dodged the fucker with the reflexes of a seeker (viktor krum ishtyle), which is why I lived to write this, but it was a feeling like I’ve never had before.

There are so many facets of this experience that make me feel blessed, I mean, we all read books and watch movies that speak of unconditional parental love, but in that frantic moment right after the incident, I could see in my dad’s worried eyes that all he cared about was if I was ok, he cared not if he was hurt anywhere, he did not even observe the speeding idiot lying on the pavement.(eventually we picked him up and gave him water and checked to see if he had a concussion ), in the moments after the incident, my state would best be described by how James Bond likes his martini – I was shaken and I did not stir from the place.

I felt no pain whatsoever and dad wasn’t hurt either, so the mystery still remained, how did the blundering fool fall?, because hit something he did, the answer to that question was discovered in quite an embarrassing manner, we were on the way out of E-zone (an electronics mega-store of sorts)  and my mom pointed out that the back side of my shirt was ripped !.. the part below the hip (yes, I do not tuck my shirt), and my jeans were ripped too, left butt-cheek region. Some part of his bike must have gotten stuck in clothes or just brushed along resulting in loss of control.

To say I’m a changed man and that this gave me a new perspective towards life would be overstating it, I already knew that my parents love me more than life itself and that I’m a scaredy-cat whose love for self-preservation borders on a hybrid of narcissistic and psychopathic , but faith is something that needs constant updating or reinstating, and that’s what happened today, faith in prayer, faith in a higher power, faith in love and above all , the faith that I’m destined for so much more and that god will take care of any hurdles I may encounter.

  

Oil- The great leveler

18 years of my life i spent training my body to wake up a little later than the usual on that day of the week which is the result of paganism evolving into neo-christianity(did i come off as too Dan brownish?...no offence meant), little did i know that one shabby sheet of paper would change it all- The mess menu, that torn-up,oily,smelly piece of paper which looks like a collage in which someone used clippings from a news paper called" The aloo and puri daily" , And the one dish powerful enough to make such an impact : Chole Bathura on Sunday mornings, The oilier,tastier,unhealthier bada bhai of puri, a melt in the mouth delicacy that makes little boys who miss ghar ka khana forego sleep and hangover remedies(at times, even taking a dump).

Wars have been fought, families and countries have severed ties, blood and sweat have been spilt (enough to drench any small nation), but that is not the aspect of oil i wish to talk about, the time has come for me to introduce you to the protagonist of this story, he goes by many names(all of which were provided by me): Tel man,fry-man, bhujiya-man, wok-man and my personal favourites- bandli-man or yenne-man. Ill use text from the respective languages in the future or italicize them, i promise(pinky-swear).

There may be one or more tel-men (dudes in-charge of frying stuff) in every hostel mess, but this is my blog, hence my subject shall be the Tel-man in my hostel mess. I'm sure most of you either watch or have heard of the NDTV travel/foodie show called "Highway On My Plate", anyways quoting Rocky and Mayur(the awesome hosts) while they were in Jharkhand (Episode aired on Jan 9th,2011), "keep in mind , good(food) in Jharkhand means, has excessive oil" and mess food is no exception, that makes tel-man a celebrity chef of sorts, it matters not if you're the most popular kid on campus or if you're a goon surrounded by 8 minions at any given time, he cares not if you're listening to bieber or mohit chauhan or floyd while waiting, but wait you shall , and its each man for himself, because when it comes to the golden brown piece of sunshine that is the chola bathura , there are no compromises.

Note to self: Find out Tel-man's name next Sunday.

Appendix-1(accepted usage of the word :tel(oil)):

1. "machi, see machi, how much tyel is there in this puris*squeezes a handful of puris like they were made of sponge*"-regular oil .

2. "viva kaise gaya?""*makes rude hand-gesture*, bina tel ka le liya bhai!": "How'd the viva go?""They did not even provide us lube bro !"

3. "CS jaaye tel lene, chupchap padhai kar" : "Balls to Counter-strike, cock-up and study"

And finally one last shout-out to the dude who makes us smile once a week and gives our sunday a fitting start. Go Tel-man !

Piece of (my) mind on peace of mind

Every morning , after my customary prayer (especially when I’m home), I like to analyse the reason behind my actions. When I’m being frank with myself of course, the primary reason that comes to mind is that it makes my mom happy, that’s probably why I stood with folded hands and chanted shlokas whose meaning I was blissfully ignorant of (read ages 1 to 4)….as I grew up..I learnt more shlokas(hymns/chants) …learnt their meaning, the mythology behind most of them and praying has a whole new meaning today. This is where my train of thought ends on a normal day , but on certain mornings (we’ve all had them), you wake up feeling uber-philanthropic, today was one of those days. I decided to go a couple of steps further and reconstruct mankind’s journey in the path of prayer. (Disclaimer : I firmly believe that god blesses us equally but in different ways, some can write , some can dance whilst some can sing. Bluntly put , future passages may indicate an inclination of mine towards intellectual superiority of a subset of our species, bear with me) Curious creatures that they were, our ancestors were certainly intrigued by the collossal treasure-trove of magic that is mother nature , and what they couldn’t fathom was attributed to stronger and higher forces, probably resulted in nature-worship . Now all was well , but just like every house has a loo or two , society is incomplete without a couple of morons , and these ancient morons probably questioned the existence of a higher power or acted like jerks and started asking for a pic of the “force”, thereby resulting in the intelectually superior ones giving the higher power a form or in my religion’s case 3 crore forms . The point is , religion was just a way of praying , different paths formulated to suit different dumbasses and how hard or easy it was to convince them. Today , the definition of religion has changed radically , and I don’t need to go into details , still , I’m glad we have religions , because honestly , praying before a deity is easier than meditating upon one’s self and finding the answers to questions that have been haunting humans for millenia ….or is it??….ever been to tirupathi or vaishnodevi or any of the jyothir lingas ??… ever been to velankani or (purely assuming) golden temple or the jamma masjid?… when I asked my parents as to why we visit temples , the first answer I got was , for peace of mind …now … while that might be true in the case of a ganesha temple inside my colony ..I ask you..how ?…how does one find peace when sweaty people are yelling and pushing you around , cops are ready to lathi-charge you and you wait in a long queue or climb several flights of stairs …to what end …to see a well-decked idol whose 7 megapixel picture adorns my dad’s PC desktop …seems illogical …but divine grace has a way of showing you things ….that three second rendezvous with the idol (most of us close our eyes during those precious moments too) signifies that which is divine…knowledge,atman…call it what you will…and the struggle..including the chaotic path which leads to the inner sanctum signifies life itself…or any goal for that matter…peace of mind is not achieved by just closing one’s eyes and meditating…not in today’s world…only by going through all the ordeals and over all the hurdles that life hurls at you …while retaining the pieces of one’s mind can we achieve peace of mind…so next time you think of throwing a tantrum or questioning the motive behind visting a place of worship…think not of whether you are a religious person or not…religion is but a means to spiritiuality … faith and prayers are two very powerful tools…not because god will listen to them and answer…but because ..as you pray ..you’re listening to yourself and giving yourself hope which eventually manifests itself as strength…If even one of you reads this and starts to pray or if I renew your faith in prayer , then MY prayers have been answered . Jai hind !

Army material???

The first toy I craved for was a bow and arrow set like arjuna’s and a mace worthy of bhima, I’m hoping most of you are familiar with the Mahabharata , I’m willing to call, mail or meet those who aren't and summarize it btw. Coming back to my point, as a kid the heroic traits of the pandavas made me want to emulate them, be it with a plastic mace or a bow and arrow set made of flimsy wood and string , yet somewhere down the line , the arjuna in me was replaced by krishna (or the duryodhana in me was replaced by shakuni) .

Don’t get me wrong , I don’t mean it any godly way , I did not say sri krishna , all I meant is that the action—seeking kid in me grew up and (Fortunately or unfortunately, your call) paved way to a more passive and analytical soul.

If you’re wondering as to why I brought up this topic on a Sunday morning , then it because the indian army is visiting my campus in an hour or so , recruitment purposes and the battle of thoughts in my head for the past couple of hours would make kurukshetra seem like a children’s playground.

The hostel seems so alive, there’s a sudden surge in the patriotism levels , SSB,AFSPA and Irom sharmila seem to be the trending topics , current affairs discussions going on in every other room , but the inception of the thought took place in the messy mess kitchen while waiting for our bhaturas, a mere suggestion that i’d pull off the interview with ease and that I was pretty well-versed with current affairs got me thinking , its every kid’s dream to be able to do something for the country . I hope it is . While I was asking around if I could register on the spot and what the procedure was , I stopped to look at myself , spotted the aquafina bottle in my hand and put on my thinking cap, is this really my cup of kaapi , true, I have the right intentions , I really want to be able to pitch in , but is the army where I belong and if I’m having to battle out so many thoughts right now , what if (one in a million chance , not being modest , just honest) I DO get through and I begin to have doubts , thereby denying some dude\dudette who was really interested . This ruled out going for the heck of it or “just to experience it”, because let’s face it , the indian army isn’t something you kid about . This is serious shit and I’m no doubt patriotic but the best thing I can do right now is lend my tie and formals to those who forgot to press theirs and help them brush up on their current affairs .

To say I’m disappointed with myself would be an understatement but knowing one’s own limitations is as important as being familiar with one’s strengths , I may have backed out of this race but a promise I shall make (to myself), that someday … I shall do something worthwhile for the people who defend this great nation , I know not in what capacity or form but contribute I shall (and that’s the bhishma in me speaking ). Jai Hind !

The Shaving Gel conundrum

The Shaving Gel Conundrum

The choice between suavely chikna (hindi coloq: uber smooth) and ruggedly handsome is a hard one for most post teen guys (more so for me, well I pull off both). A stubble may make one look grown-up and manly but the bearded know where the facial hair itches, so after my trip to Kolkata and an attempt to bell the CAT {(I have no idea if I belled it or belled it up(if you catch my drift))OMG! I had questions with fewer and less confusing brackets on my CAT(sincere apologies)} . Also, the previous statement is a fine example of #Thingslongerthankimsmarriage.(incidentally my hiatus from writing qualifies as well(for the hashtag) ).

Coming back to the main issue, I decided to shave and sacrifice my Voldemort–on-vacation look for my Dr. G . Sridhar look (For those of you who don’t know the director of ACE, it suffices to say that I dress up as him every Halloween and during interviews, meetings and other formal occasions.)

Imagine my surprise when I found out I am almost out of shower gel, it wouldn’t be such a big deal if it wasn’t the first time this happened , not because I shop in advance and the only thing I run out of are chocolates and tissues (especially when all my roomies are away and I’m all alone during vacations), but because this is the first 238gms (8.4oz) I’ve used, this bottle represented the beginning of my adult life , I bought it in August 2008, National market and now that its empty . there’s this tingling sensation which makes me want to really want to pull up my socks and take stock of what I am and what I was when this bottle was full, we read so many sensational things that contain the phrase “The beginning of the end” but little do we realise that the end of beginnings are just as important.

I leave you with a quote from personal hero of mine Darth Vader (Episode IV : A new hope) :”I sense something ; a presence I’ve not felt since……”. Happy Halloween to those of you who celebrate it, Happy chhat puja to all my bihari and jhrkhandi pals and last but never the least to all the kannadigas all over the world Karnataka Rajyotsavada hrudayapoorvaka shubhashayagalu!