Purple

Another lame attempt at acrostic poetry. Please feel free to give me your critical view on this

Purple



Pouting red across the setting sky, as the silver drizzles of rain lashed out,

Under the canopy of the dark blue and orange sky was the smiling pink sun.

Rising blue waves crashing and breaking on the white grains of sands painting blank murals, a

Pallette of colours across that beach but not a sight of my favourite colour. The one i

Love, the colour i seek. And right when i lost hope on that

Endless stretch of silver sand, there it was gleaming in the moonlight a purple gem.

And I woke up to see my photo in the Newspaper

It really sounds great that you wake up one fine morning and you get to know that you have your photo in the newspaper. For me it happens way too frequently.

Having journo friends who call me up at odd hours to get a sound bite on something or the other to which i happily oblige. And then the off and on msgs about what picture to be used, to which they normally take my facebook pictures.


And then there are times when I come in P3 because of some theatre or art show, or some odd happenings around the city, to which mostly am unaware until i get a msg from some long lost friend who goes "Hey long time, I saw your photo in the paper about X event that happened at Y".


But this particular Msg that I got one day took me off guard. A relative msgd me saying I have come in the front page of Bangalore times. And I was expecting it to be the event I had attended the previous day. But then when he told me that it was the picture of me in a bike, I was taken aback. I rushed out of my house to buy the paper. And there it was staring right out of the front page of the Newspaper, a Grinning Photo of mine sitting on a Bike.




I did look good but what suprised me was i had no hand in it.

Read through the article and I saw that it was about this Art of Bicyle Trips. A culture trip that i had participated in months ago. There were quotes about the Trip orgainzer and other people who had participated in the trip. I contacted Pankaj Mangal who had organised the trip and asked him why is there my picture in the article, and why was i not informed about it. He claims that Nirmala the journalist was supposed to get back to him on what picture she would be using and confirm before it would be published. He was however not informed and the article was published.

I tried contacting Nirmala Govindarajan, but was of no use. TOI office number that was listed just does not respond. Tried to dig up my contacts with my journo friends who worked in TOI long ago, but still could not get any help.

If Nirmala and Pankaj do read this post, i just wannt to ask them, how can Nirmala take a picture from my album without notifying me?
When i went on the trip i never signed any form that states that the pictures from my album will be used for publicity of any form.

Pankaj Mangal, just one call from you could have saved you all this trouble. atleast i dont have to wake up to see my grinning photo in the paper.

The Untitled Post

This post should have been published way back in the month of march. But people who know me well would also know my alter ego the laziness. But i have valid reasons now. I was busy. No seriously i was. Hong Kong Trip and work and wedding blues and stuff........... So well here goes.

I was getting sick of my routine. Tired of seeing the same old people in my cab. Having the same conversations everyday. It was slowly creeping into me. Work delighted me. But the people around me still felt the same. I was itching for a change. A holiday. Something. A new Office Crush maybe. :p but then lazy me never did anything worthwhile. I sat on the same window side of my cab. Looked at the same old sights while heading out to work. Saw the same girl walking on the crowded road. Saw the same hunchbacked guy selling flowers by the roadside.

It was on one of these normal same old days that i noticed the kingfisher perched on a pole. Its bright coloured small body perched pretty on the tall pole. I saw it one day, and the next and kept seeing it everyday. Perched on the same pole the same spot. Still and unmoving. Almost feels as though its a ceramic piece kept there.

It became a routine for me. Everyday I'd see it perched at the same spot. This went on for a couple of days. I wonder what did it even think. Did it just perch there everyday looking at people travel on that lonely road and laugh at them. Did it perch there to look into the lake and catch its fish for the day. I wonder if it ever got bored sitting at the exact same place and the exact same pole.

Sad life it must have i thought. To be sitting on that same pole everyday at the same time. Its got wings. Wings to tale it anywhere it wanted to. Sit on any pole it wanted. Fish at any lake it wished to. Strange as it may sound i thought about my life. I could also do anything. I had wings too. I could make my change. But i did not. I was making myself comfortable. Comfortable about my routine.


Slowly it struck me how comfortable I was making myself. Gone were the days were i took risks did things that i wanted to and never cared. I would not change my travel operator cause i was comfortable in taking that same particular bus whenever i travelled home to mlore.

I still took the same old bus from the same stop whenever i ventured out on weekends. No matter where i went i made sure i was close to that bus stop where i could tale my bus home.

And i was complaining even when i was at fault. And right there i took it upon myself i need a change. And i ll bring the change. So i did. Stopped taking breakfast at my desk. Sat with random people at the cafeteria. Only they were the housekeeping staff or the catering stuff who come so early but the deal was it was a change. A nice way to strike up conversations with them. I got extra juice glasses too. :p ssshh trade secret. I took walks. Each day a different person.

And then the Hong Kong trip happened. MAJOR CHANGE. That trip has a different story in itself. Did things i'd never would have done. Too explicit to be told here. :p But it changed me. I explored i ventured met people. it did not feel like routine. 11 days each a different me. One day wild, one day calm, one day crazy childlike. I was no longer comfortable in anything. Getting back to India i thought things will get back to the same. But i was wrong it did not. It still felt different. Everything felt new and nice. I was making changes. Seeing things differently. OC remains the same though :p

But then something changed. My kingfisher was not on that pole anymore. It troubled me for a few days. Almost thought it died or something bad must have happened to it. I changed my cab route and timings, got new cab mates and new conversations happened. And then one fine day i look out the window on my way to work and i see my kingfisher perched on a different pole. Its pretty little colourful body sitting on a higher pole, having a whole new perspective. So its not just me thats making changes in life. The kingfisher has changed its pole.




P.S. I could not think of a right title for this post. Help me out here guys. the comments box is right below

Conversations over chai and over just anything.

I was sitting up on my most hate full day again. The weekend. Yeah the dreaded weekend. People should rejoice about the weekend not the friday. Fridays are just evil. They make you think that the weekend is here with loads to do. With sleep to catch up on but its just that false hope. Fridays are just evil. Yes FYI i hate fridays. Incase you happen to read this without knowing me from work or twitter keep that registered. I have a love affair with mondays and i HATE fridays. I do, with a capital H.

This love affair with mondays shall be spoken about in another post cant use up all my ideas on this post can I? Considering i have woken up my lazy fingers to put this long post up.


And so yes i wake up saturday morning with that hideous song stuck in my head. Thank you Mr Vikram Bondal i shall kill you soon; played The songs from The Offspring to get it out. Worked to a large extent. And then i get a ping the usual "what you upto", "what plans you got" from a dozen of friends who have nothing else to do in life but ping me and make me feel miserable about my hate for weekends. Then this journalist friend pings about her cool job. Yes i get jealous. And guess what she makes my jealousy increase by inviting me to a play reading session.


And my lazy sleepy self gets that moment of adrenaline rush and i was off to meet her. With initial hesitation i decided its about time i do something interesting than the cleaning of the house or the aimless wandering around. Hail an auto (note to self blog about the auto drivers) the guy was extra nice. Its been long since i got an auto where i did not have to bargain and where he striked a conversation that was more interesting than my evening i think. He spoke about the different places in blore and how fast this place has evolved.


He shared his views on how rare does he find people speak kannada. Even the kannadigas have stopped appreciating the language. And then i get to the venue. The auto driver was surprised that a building like this has plays out of concern he even asked me if he should wait. I sent him off with a cheesy dialogue in kannada about how women from this soil can tend for themselves. He laughed and moved on. I wonder if he laughed at my broken kannada or did i really make sense.

The place where the play reading was to take place did not look any artistic or theatrical. Met my friend and we went upstairs. Saw a couple wit a cute chubby kid and i wondered maybe these guy are off to the same session as ours. And they were indeed. Me and my friend sure looked out of place in that tiny room filled with artistic and intellectual people. I felt like an intellectual outcast suddenly. But then we got introduced to the group. This theatre group do these play reading session's informally just to keep in touch with each other and basically have chai's samosa's and talk about plays and ideas. Garma garam chai they are called. I did not see the presence of chai or samosa's and i was craving for them.

We started of reading the play Dimetos by Athol Fugard. (p.s. Am posting this through my phone cant seem to post the link. But look it up and read the play. Its just beautiful.) I was assigned the role of Lydia. The reading began. And story took an amazing turn that i was not ready to stop for the chai i had been craving for. We finished the play and i was in love with the character of Lydia. I fell in love with her and with Dimetos. Lydia for her innocence and Dimetos for his insanity and with Athol Fugard for the beautiful play of words that kept me smiling throughout the reading. I did not care about the cute chubby kid crying in the background. Or that noisy fan creeking or the noises in the other rooms. I was in that play and could almost visualise it on stage. An enriching experience indeed.


We discussed and went into the nuances that showed up in the play. The references to apartheid, to recluse, to progress etc. Athol Fugard's play of words when talking about hands. All this put me into a different world. I knew i'd come back again. Not just for the greasy oily samosas. :)

From there i tagged along with this journalist friend to a Maloya music concert at the Alliance Française. (again pls look it up. Cant post link to tell you readers whats Maloya music is all about). The moment i stepped there i felt i was in a different world. I could hear drum beats and conversations in a different language, french of course. I felt like i was not in my country any more. The music just took me to a different world. I ended up getting sound bytes for this journalist friend. And being like a pseudo journalist. Interviewing the artist and his members.

There were a bunch of photographers sitting next to me. One did look cute. And i striked a conversation with them thats when they told me that they were having this stop over before going out to hessargatta for a night photography session. Now ain't that an interesting thing. Got them out of that concert and it turned out they were planning to go to this lake near hessargatta tonight and click pictures of the moon at the lake. All without the fear of the supermoon phenomena where the moon could cause weird occurences. With fears thrown to the winds these three musketeers were off to capture the moon at its splendid best. And it was my day to meet interesting people.


And that was how my random saturday went. With random conversations and interesting people in my day. Like Fugard said in the play every story has a Beginning, A pivot, and an End. I would not call this an end yet. I did not want to call it an end. Like the juggler i prefer to keep it on loop. But then like a case of a bad hangover i got my end at the busstop. A disappointing end.


Standing there late, all alone waiting for my bus,two men walk up near me and stand by me.
One guy asks "do buses from majestic start from here?".

I stared at him as though he was stoned. "This is mayo hall" , i said.

"ah right, but domlur buses start from here?."

"yes they go from here"

"you sure they go via here

""yes they do"

"you sure right?


*Omg yes do I look like some liar who wants people to stand next to me and ask what route buses take. *


"yes 335E goes there and Am getting into the same bus "

Acted busy on my phone, but the bugger wont stop. Almost wanted to show a krav maga move on him and make him shut up

."so are you working? Or studying?"


Did not have to answer that. The bus came and i hopped but damn it! forgot they were gonna hop into the same. The two buggers stand right next to me

. "so are you working for software?"

"No am not into the IT field"

Am so sure this guy is an engineer at some low paying company. I had to make that stupid judgement. Cause i was getting really annoyed by that idiotic stereotypical mentality these men have.

"So where do you work?"

"at an investment banking firm"

"Ah so you did your engineer and then your mba" #facepalm dude like seriously what is with you men?

" not all women in blore are IT professionals and MBA holders"

"No i just assumed cause am an engineer working in an IT firm"

"Yes i can very well assume that. And you proved it by asking me if am an engineer. Cause all engineer grads assume that the whole world is filled with engineer grads with high paying jobs at IT firms. If not they just end up doing MBA's and working in banks"


*also your conversation skills are that bad i so know that you are some topper in your batch and now you want to tell people how cool bangaloreans are who make random conversations with you*>>>i so wanted to add on and tell him this. :p but then the look on his face before i could add on was just worth it
. My blessed phone saved me when it lit up with a call. That buggers bus stop arrived i was in the mood to make him miss his stop and have him suffer but that would mean enduring him for another journey. Told him his stop was here and got busy chatting on the phone. I saw him turn back. Damn i wish i could capture that moment. That *am such an idiot look* he had on his face .


Saturday indeed was strange interesting conversations with interesting people and also some boring random people. Thats what my day's highlight was about. The beginning The pivot The end. In my case like a rotten end.