The center of the periphery

The core is getting crowded. Too many people and too many opinions. I think we can do this. I also think we can do this. Do, do, do…..doing, doing, doing. How much to do? Why should we do it? Does it matter?

The periphery seems silent. It has space. I think it can accommodate lots of people. But then, don’t tell anyone. I want to go away quietly. If too many people get to know about it, the silence will go away to another place.

I am walking towards the periphery. Slowly, one step at a time, the periphery is becoming my core. Walk, walk, walk….one motion, my breath seems to be playing a tune.

My core is in sight. Now I am walking faster. My breathing gains momentum.

I reach the place. Get down on my knees, spread my arms and embrace the silence. It’s beautiful. It’s lonely. It’s scary. And yet, I am home.

Trains of thought...

A ship in the distance. Now i see it, now i don't.
The waves. Their ebb and flow. What's their story?
The sand. I take a fistful and tighten my grip. The harder i try to hold on, the faster it slips away.
The sun beating down on my face. I close my eyes. And open them to see the it disappear behind the clouds.

The thoughts are back..

The thoughts are back my friend...I thought i got rid of them but they have surfaced and how!! And as always i am overwhelmed...They are tons of them but i will list down the top 10...So here we go.
1) Flirting with death in the cradle of life
2) That cliff looks interesting
3) Say hello to depression
4) Step back till invisibility shakes hands with you
5) What's the best way to disappear?
6) How long is too long?
7) How do you define fairness?
8) Are we acting or pretending?
9) Does it matter?
10) So what if it matters?
Choose your pick. And let me know what you picked.

The centre or the periphery

A circle is deceptive. It doesn't give you too many options. You are either at the centre or on the periphery. And the distance between the two is as long as you want it to be.

The centre gets you noticed. You stand out. People are noticing you. You need to be at your best at all times. That's where, I think, people would finally want to be. But the centre can also get crowded. That's when you need to hold your own. Hold on to your position and get people to see you in the same light.

The periphery gives you space. It allows you to figure out how much space you need. The periphery lets you be. But the periphery can get lonely...

Moving from the periphery to the centre is natural. Abandoning the centre for the periphery is no child's game.

So, are you at the centre or on the periphery? Are you moving towards the centre or happy on the periphery?

If you on the periphery and see someone walking towards you, don't be scared. It's just me.

I bumped into

the most beautiful girl i have ever known. I mean i kinda know a little about her but wish i knew much more.

I couldn't tell her how awesome she looked. The words were on the tip of my tongue but i quickly swallowed them. They are sleeping somewhere inside me. They long to be free.

Will i ever set them free?

My name is Ghost

Hi there! My name is Ghost. I can see you but can't. Don't be scared. I won't harm you. I am here to share a story.

I was born yesterday in the cemetery close to your neighborhod. You remember that rite? Of course, you do. You pass it everyday on the way to your office.

It was 12 at night. As I rose from the ground the moon greeted me. I smiled back and tried to flirt with her. But it didn't work. She disappeared behind the clouds. I felt bad for a couple of seconds and then i was fine. I waved out to my cemetery pals and hit the road to check out the neighborhood.

The shutters were down. People were asleep. It was pitch dark save for a couple of street lamps. I got to a fork. I had to decide between two streets. I chose one based on the imaginary flipping of a coin.

I am happy i called right. If i hadn't taken this street, i wouldn't have found you.

Holding her hands

She laughs, she cries.
She plays pranks.

She tries to understand people.
She tries to make them understand.

She thinks.
Sometimes too much.

She walks.
She runs.

She holds my hands.
She is with me all the time.

I think she is pretty.
Her name is loneliness.

People you see, people you don't

You are at a traffic signal. You see this thin lady with her hair tied in a ponytail cross the road. She walks fast, almost runs.You look at her till she turns the corner. And that's it. She's gone. You might not see her again.

You are on your way to the gym at 7 in the moring. You see this old man walking on the road. He looks 75 but walks like a man in his prime. You see him every morning. You see him if you are on that particular road at 7 in the mornig. Otherwise, you don't.You don't know him. He doesn't know you.

In your life you see lots of people for only 30 secs. You see some for 2 mins. You see a few for a few years. And you see a few till you can't see anymore.

What do I write about?

I am staring at the screen. I want to write something. What do I write about?

About the man who was snoring on the train last night. About the lady who was meditating. Or do I write about the bhelpuri wallah?

Tell me what I should write about. The boy with one hand? Or the girl with one leg? What about the fat executive in his Honda City? Or the pretty girl at the signal?

About this little girl on the road with those most beautiful eyes that I almost got lost in. The cute couple who looked so nice holding hands that I wanted to hold someone’s hands. But I could only hold the steering….

There is so much to tell you.

Searching for answers

Last night I searched for my specs for half an hour. I looked under the bed, on the bed, on the table next to my bed, in the kitchen, in the living room, near the computer, anywhere and everywhere. And I finally found them. They were on the table next to my bed.

Believe me when I say it but I actually checked on the table a couple of times. But I didn’t look hard enough. And, that was the problem. All the while that I was searching, the specs were sitting right in front of me and I didn’t even notice.

I drew a parallel with life. We spend so much looking for answers. We go to places, meet people, listen to stories, read stories and still cannot find the answer. For all you know, the answer could be in front of you.

It’s about looking and realizing that the answer never ever left you. You chose to ignore it.

Shades on the flight

The person sitting next to me had his shades on during the 90 minute flight from Hyderabad to Goa. He wore his shades when the hostess was serving; adjusted them when she was clearing his plate and had them on when he was reading the paper. The only time he removed his shades was when he was watching something on the in-flight entertainment system. I found this amusing.

Why would somebody do that? Am I missing a point?

Shades are supposed to keep out the sun. People also wear them to look cool. I buy both those points. But on a flight, where is the sun? And who’s around to impress? I am not too sure the hostess really cared.

I was itching to ask him about the shades. I said ‘excuse me’ and he turned. I couldn’t tell whether he was looking at me or looking outside. So I said ‘nothing…sorry’ and looked out of the window. He went back to his reading or so I thought.

And then, I started thinking of possible reasons why people wear shades on a flight. I couldn’t get beyond the “I look so cool in these shades” factor and left it at that. I went back to thinking of all I could do in Goa in 24 hours.

We landed 10 minutes later. As I was getting into the cab which would take me to North Goa, I saw my neighbor for possibly the last time in my life. He was arguing with a cab driver and…you guessed it right. He was wearing his shades.

S for suffering

We have a maid who comes in the mornings to wash utensils. And this is her story.

Her name is Padma. Her husband was a watchman in the flats opposite our house. He was sincere and always ready to help. But he had one big problem. He was an alcoholic. Inspite of repeated warnings, he couldn't stay off alcohol. One fine day he was asked to leave and so he left with his wife and 2 kids. I don't know where they went.

And time flew.

One day Padma landed up at our place and told my mum that her husband drank himself to death. My mum decided to employ her. And so, she started coming to our house in the mornings
to earn a little money and feed her family.

Padma is one of many who knows the meaning of real suffering. Not our version of suffering but real suffering. The list is endless: widows, physically handicapped and mentally challenged people, lepers, orphans...What they experience is the real stuff.

All we need to do is look. Look outside and then look within. And for all you know, S for self pity will be replaced by S for suffering.

Old mails, refreshing memories

I went through some old mails last night. Mails from friends I am no longer in touch with. The memories came back in a rush. Good memories, not so good memories but memories nevertheless.

The mails were 3 years old. The memories were also 3 years old but unlike the mails were trapped in the deep recesses of my mind. All they needed was a trigger to surface.

One mail was about this cricket match we played against boys from the neighboring colony. They batted first and scored 120 in 12 overs. We chased down that score with 3 balls to spare. We won the 500 buck bet and then went off to my friend's house to celebrate. A good memory.

A not so good memory. That evening it was pouring outside. Not a soul on the road. I was sitting with a couple of friends in a coffee shop. An argument broke out between 2 of them and I tried to play peacemaker. And all of a sudden, one of them slapped me and told me to stay out of it. I remember that incident. It was the beginning of the end of a friendship of 4 years. Call it ego; call it immaturity. We never really spoke after that. I don't know where he is. He doesn't know where i am. Sometimes not knowing is better.

As I went through the mails, the memories started flying off my head. They were alive and kicking. They were performing in front of me. I was travelling backwards in their presence. I lost track of time. And then, the power went. The screen went blank and the mails disappeared taking the memories with them.

I jogged back to the present, switched off the comp, wished my memories good night and drifted off to sleep.

Tennis lesson

I played tennis after a really long time. I was rusty but hit the ball better than expected. Tennis is such a beautiful game. It is a potent mix of power and finesse. The inside out forhand, the backhand slice, the top spin serve, the smash, the drop volley and the lob make this racquet game a thrill to play and a treat to watch.

I played for about an hour and a half. I felt good.

And then, my cousin told me about the coach’s son. He was born with a problem in his brain. I was stunned. This coach of mine, whom I know since my 12th standard, is an amazing person. I have not seen him angry even once. He has a smile on his face all the time and is equipped with bundles of patience. He deserves the very best in life. And yet, life hasn’t been a fairytale for him.

That made think for 2 minutes. What makes this man get up every day at 5.30 and head to the court to teach kids of all ages this beautiful game?This man is hurting and yet, is smiling all the time. He is approachable.He is ready to help.

I headed home thinking life’s been good for a lot of us. Loving parents,good friends and a world full of possibilities. If only we could value what we have without chasing something all the time.

Momentary contradictions

One moment i want to do something; the next moment i want to do something else. For 5 mins, i am at peace with myself and the next 5 mins its a different story. I want to disappear from the face of this earth; i want to get into the wild and not be in touch with anyone.

One moment i feel like crying and my eyes get watery. I want to kneel in front of my parents, spread my arms and submit myself to them. Another moment, i feel like rushing off to Goa and getting drunk.

One moment i think of her and feel good. Another moment, i think of her and feel depressed. One moment i feel loved. Another moment, i feel hated. One moment i think of the beggar outside my house. Another moment i think of the BMW in my office.

It's all about the moments. Moments that make up your life. Moments that thrill you. Moments that hurt you.

After all, moments are just what they are supposed to be.

Enter a visitor, exit a patient

My cousin got admitted into CARE, one of the city's leading hospitals. I decided to pay him a visit. Visiting hours are between 5 and 6 pm. I got hold of a visitor's pass and made my way towards the door. People were shoving and pushing to get in. I also pushed and got in.

I headed towards the lift where i was greeted by 20 people waiting to get in. The lift arrived 5 minutes later and i didn't get in. I was pushed in. The lift was shaped like a tunnel. I was standing in the front. The people at the back seemed like they were 2 kms away. The lift stopped on every floor and by the time i got out on the 6th floor, i had spent 7 minutes inhaling stale breath. I was feeling sick.

I dragged myself to room number 610. That's where my cousin was. He smiled when he saw me. I didn't smile immediately because i was trying to recover from my journey of 6 floors. By the time i smiled back, he had pulled the bedsheet over his face. Spoke to my uncle and aunt for 10 minutes. Declined the coffee because the cup looked suspicious.

Said bye to them. As i was heading towards the lift, i took in as much breath as possible since i knew what lay in wait for me. Entered the lift shit scared. Thankfully, the journey this time was not that bad. It took 4 minutes to hit the ground floor.

As soon as the door opened, i ran towards the entrance and continued running towards the parking area. It was only after i exited the hospital and travelled 200m that i felt alright.

I decided to not go back to the hospital in the future. It might be CARE hospital to a lots of people. As far as i am concerned, it is SCARE hospital. It got me scared. It almost made me a patient.

The Curtain Call

What are curtains used for? You must be thinking what kind of a question is this. Of course, curtains are used to keep the sun out, beautify the house, etc.

But did you know that curtains serve as blankets? I didn’t know this till last month. I was traveling with couple of my friends to Goa by Paulo travels. When you have paid 800 bucks to travel by an AC bus, you expect a blanket, a bottle of water and a decent sleep.

Well we didn’t get any. First of all one had to pay 50 bucks to borrow a blanket which looked like it was washed once in 365 days. I guess the original colour of those blankets was white which had blackened with the passage of time.

And then, when you ask for a blanket you get a curtain. The curtain because there are no blankets is an answer which baffles me. 25 blankets for 50 passengers is a no-brainer because it means you are expected to share it with your neighbor whom you are seeing for the first time and probably will see him for the last time, 14 hours hence.

But what really irritated me was the audacity with which the conductor gave the passenger a curtain instead of a blanket and the subsequent nonchalance which laced his reply to the former’s confused expression.

So much for Paulo travels. An AC which refused to work after 8 hours, the driver who continuously hit the brake mistaking it for the accelerator and the conductor who distributed curtains instead of blankets.

So the next time you plan to go to Goa, don’t take Paulo Travels. If you don’t have an option, carry your own blankets.

Stranger, stanger...Why did you go away?

You meet a stranger who then becomes an acquaintance. Before you want it to blossom into a friendship, he is gone. He disappears from this world for no fault of his.

Imagine the plight of his family. Their world has crumbled overnight; the father who hand held his son till he could go to another place and work needs to be hand held now because his vision has blurred with the never ending tears; his walk has lost its fatherly grace; his dreams for his son have been derailed.

What about the woman who gave birth to him? The tears she shed when she saw her son come out of the womb s now been replaced by tears from seeing him lifeless. The life she had conceived has left her forever making her a living ghost.

The younger brother who wanted to follow his brother’s footsteps has been blinded by the sudden lack of direction and guidance.

The parents have lost their elder son. The younger brother has lost his protective elder brother. Together they have lost their bloodline.

The elder brother’s room is empty. The walls echo with sounds of his laughter; the mirror reflects his handsome image . They are painful memories which will lose their sting with the passage of time but will never cease to trouble the waking minds.

But as days turn into months and as months shed their shyness and become years, the tears will dry. The images will fade and the minds will accept reality. And yet, the sadness will linger forever.

The bearded beggar

As I stepped out of home singing “Socha nahi to socho abhi” from Rock on, a bearded beggar appeared out of nowhere. I stopped in my tracks, cut the song short and took a good look at him. Dressed in tatters, his beard dominated his face so much that it looked as if he was trying to peep from a bush. And then, all of a sudden he started singing “Mere baare mein bhi socho saab”.

I removed a 20 and gave it to him. He folded his hands and said “Shukriya saab. Ab aur bheek nahin mangoonga. Seedha hotel jaake khaana khaaonga”. I felt numb the moment he said that. I couldn’t move. And then, the numbness was replaced by elation. I felt good.

The begger thanked me for making his day. The truth is he made my day.

Dark circles or beauty spots

I feel dark circles look quite sexy. They give this character to a person’s face. I know a few people who have dark circles. And a couple of them look mind blowing. I get lost in those beautiful eyes and then travel further in those awesome dark circles. Those circles just sit there knowing fully well that they will get the desired attention.

I am raising a toast to dark circles and to people who look quite awesome in those dark circles.

The next time somebody tells you about your dark circles get in touch with me and I will tell you how amazing they look on you.

Bangalore to Hyderabad (Part 2)

It was time to hit the road again. Kurnool to Hyderabad takes about 4 hours by road, 5 hours by train and don’t know how many hours if you decide to walk it up. Though it took me only 10 mins to get to the highway, it was only half an later that I could really step on the gas. The trucks in front of me were ripping at 20 km an hour and I just couldn’t handle the speed. In fact, one the trucks sported a board which said Rajdhani Express.

As the hour hand inched towards 2, the distance to Hyderabad shrunk from 200 kms to less than a 100. The hour hand slowly made its way to 3 and I surely made my way to the outskirts of Hyderabad. And then, for 15 mins, I could not move an inch. What a way to be welcomed into the city. It was like the city didn’t want me back.

I got to know that the delay was the result of an auto banging into an alto. Both the drivers were involved in a brawl right in the middle of the road. The cops were, don’t be surprised, not on time. By the time they arrived on the scene, the drivers were tired and agreed to resume their battle half an hour later.

I cursed both the drivers for a tenth time and then headed towards home. I wanted to get home by 3.30 but by the time I parked the car and said whazza to my folks, the clock had stuck 4.

All in all, it took me ten hours to get from Bangalore to Hyderabad. I know that nothing will change. Even if coming back to Hyderabad means meeting my friends only once a month, I know one thing will not change however hard I try. Any guesses?

Well, it’s the number plate.

Bangalore to Hyderabad (Part 1)

I left Bangalore before the sun woke up. I hit the highway just as the sun woke up. He was surprised to see me up so early. So, for a change I said whazza? Long night last night? He chose to ignore the question and set about casting his spell on the rest. Like I cared. I was on my way to Hyderabad. I wasn’t alone. Images and memories of Bangalore were accompanying me.

I stepped on the accelerator. The speedometer started sprinting in multiples of 10. The speedometer started panting beyond 100. I stepped off the pedal and let it rest for a bit. Just as it thought this was going to be a joy ride, I decided to give it a run. The airport was left behind and so was Chikballapur. Just as Karnataka started giving way to Andhra Pradesh, I slowed down and started looking for a chai shop for a much need caffeine kick.

Found one in Penukonda, a blink-and-you-miss town. Don’t know what Penu means. Konda is hill in Telugu. The wonderful coffee couldn’t help me figure out the meaning of Penu. I left Penukonda with the hills receding in the distance. I sped though countless diversions and indifferent roads.

A hog crossing the road welcomed me into Kurnool. My stomach started growling and the hog got scared and ran away. It was time for some food. I stepped into hotel Jayashree because the façade looked good. And, the façade was true to its name. The restaurant was dirty and the bathroom was… well let’s not get into it. There were exactly three items on the menu: puri, idly and wada. I chose Puri. I am still reeling from its effect.

To be continued…

Family Weddings (Part 2)

If getting re-introduced to people at weddings is one problem, having a conversation with them is another pain. How will a conversation with your mum’ second cousin sound?
Let’s call her Sandhya aunty.

Sandhya aunty: Pramod! Is that really you? You look so different.
You want to say: Of course. Duh! You are seeing me after 3 years.
But you say: I know aunty. It’s been a long time.

Sandhya aunty: You have become so thin.
You want to say: But you have put on some weight. And look at your husband. He’s become so thin. Now, I know how you have put on weight.
But you say: I know aunty.

Sandhya aunty: So what are you doing these days?
You want to say: Wasting my dad’s money. Trying to figure out what I want to do in life.
But you say: Preparing for some competitive exams aunty.

Sandhya aunty: You know, my son is doing his MS in US.
You want to say: Tell me something new.
But you say: Wow!

And she goes on and on. You have similar conversations with your dad’s seventh cousin or your aunt’s sister. Whoever said, at weddings you meet people you otherwise don’t meet. I think, at weddings you meet people you don’t want to meet.

Family weddings (Part 1)

I find attending family weddings extremely stressful. You are expected to remember and greet 4th cousins, your uncle’s wife’s brother’s wife’s father, anyone and everyone you met 3 years earlier at a wedding and will probably meet 3 years later at another wedding.

As you set off for the wedding reminding your mum to not introduce you to people you don’t remember meeting 3 years earlier, you are simultaneously preparing for a test in memory, family trees and relationships.

Once you are at the wedding, you realize any amount of preparation is inadequate. Your mum goes back on her promise and reintroduces you to people you think you are meeting for the first time. She says " you remember Sapna right? You met her at Anu akka's wedding." And you try hard to conjure up images of the wedding which happened 3 years earlier. You give up after a while and look at your mum with a who-is-this look. And she says " Don't you remember Sapna. Subbu uncle's daughter?" You ask yourself "Who is this Subbu uncle?" and look at your mum helplessly. She gets the hint and says "Remember Subbu uncle. Anu akka's brother-in-law". And that's when a distant light glows in your head. Oh yeah!Subbu uncle. That man i met 3 years earlier at my cousin sister's wedding.

It takes me time to figure out the connection by which time Sapna is embarrassed because you took time to say hi to her. And you are embarrassed because you are telling yourself "when did i ever meet her " while saying hi to her. After that incident, you try and get lost in the maze of uncles, aunts, grand uncles who obviously don't remember you unless forced to.

Now, that leads to another problem which i will talk about some other time.

Happy, Confused, Depressed…

Lifestyle, Shopper’s Stop, Central, Garuda, Forum…where to go?
Santro, 800, Alto, i10…how to go?
Levi’s , Lee, Wrangler, Pepe…what to wear?
Tandoor, Chinese, Italian, Continental…what to eat?

Options mean different things to different people. Some are happy with the embarrassment of options. Some are confused with the appeal of so many options and some others are depressed with the invasion of hundreds of options.

Living in the past, screwing up the present

Why do most of us live in the past? Why are we so hung up over people, failures and what not?

Thinking about what happened doesn’t change anything. It only screws up everything, up there (our minds) and out there (the present). Why are we desperate to change our past knowing fully well that the present is all we have? Why are we intent on screwing up the present by living in the past? We seem to weighing the present based on what happened in the past. Why is embracing the present so difficult? Why do we think about the present when it has passed and entered the graveyard of the past?

Can we ever get out of the bed of the past and say hello to the moment?

Crowds: Blend in or stand out

You can either be a part of the crowd or stand out. The choice is yours.

What happens when you decide to add to the teeming millions? Simple. You become a part of the sea; a sea of blues, blacks, whites marching to the sounds of hundreds of conversations. You lose you identity. Nobody cares what you wear or how you talk. Nobody cares whether you are Bill Gates' cousin or Dharavi's son. You are going through the motions just like the others. It's not about you. It's not about them.

Ok, you decide to stand out? What happens then? In your quest for an identity, you try hard to not succumb to the call of the herd. In your struggle to carve a path, you are beaten and battered to the point of submission. And yet, you decide to get up, dust your pants and move forward. It's about you. It's not about them .

So, blend in or stand out. Your choice is all that matters.

The body has no name

40 killed, 30 bodies recovered. How often do we read headlines like these? Everyday, isn’t it? I don’t want to add to the numbers. I want to talk about the transition from a living, breathing person to a body.

And how long does it take Sunil to become a body? How long does it take little Sonia to become a body? It doesn’t take time at all. The person disappears with the breath and what remains is the body.

The body has no name. It has no gender. It cannot feel pain. Who is Sunil? Who is Sonia? They don’t exist. The body has taken over. Hail the body!

Into the wild in search of the truth

Into the wild is the story of Christopher McCandless, a top of the class graduate student who renounces a promising career and big money to venture into the wild. His search for the truth takes him from West Virginia to Alaska where he flirts with the truth in the cradle of death. This movie poses lots of questions.

What is the truth? Is there one single truth or multiple truths leading to one single truth? Are we strong enough to realize the truth? Even if we have realized the truth, are we strong enough to live with it?

So many questions…

Chasing, chasing….

Chasing a good career, chasing possibilities, chasing dreams….chasing, chasing all the time.
What does it take to sit back and relax? Just soak into the present without thinking about the future. The present is all we have got because the future is a mystery.

And yet, we are trying to imagine and live our future in our heads. And, at the end, we are all disappointed because the real future is a far cry from our imagined future.

Still, we chase….

Trains (of thought)

I am thinking what to write about. So many trains of thought. Some as fast as the Shatabdi; some as slow as the goods train. Ah! That reminds me about something.The one train I have hated all my life is the good train. One, it's damn slow. Stops anywhere and everywhere.Two, it's long. How many bogies does it have? 130. Not too sure.Three, its brown in color. So boring.

What happens when a goods train and an express train compete? You know the answer. Ok try this one. What happens when an express train of thought and a goods train of thought compete? Did somebody say a new train of thought? I think its confusion.

That what my train of thought is at the moment. Feel like i have one leg on an express train and the other on a goods trains. The outcome is not hard to imagine.

Talking the walk

Ever observed how people walk? I think there are as many walks as there are people. I have put my list together. Before you proceed, I must tell you there are innumerable variations under each category. I haven’t got into those. So, here we go:

1) “Something up my pants” walk: People in this category don’t walk. I think they hop on their legs. Something down there is irritating them. And they try to get rid of that something by not allowing that something to get deeper. For example, say a glass piece has got into your heel. What do you do? You don’t let it get any deeper by walking on your toes and then try and remove it. The case is somewhat similar in this case expect that this something is permanent or so it seems to me.

2) “I don’t have heels” walk: People who walk on their toes fall in this category. Seeing them walk makes you wonder whether they have any heels or not. It high time someone comes out with only toed shoes. Why waste the rest the shoe when there is no use for it?

3) “I am bearing the burden of the entire world” walk: Their walk suggests that they are carrying a huge burden on their shoulders. The back is bent, the legs are struggling to cope up and the face is showing the pain. Their posture is similar to one of the phases in the evolution of man.

4) “I skate” walk: Seen people skating. The way they drag their feet to gain momentum. They do this because the wheels require that kind of drag. People in this category walk as if they have wheels attached to their feet. They walk as fast they run.

5) “My legs are not mine” walk: People in this category are made up of 2 bodies. One from the head till the knees and the other, from the knee to the foes. Everything’s fine till just above the knees. The problem starts when you venture lower. The rest of the leg starting with the shin bone operates in a different world. They seem to be walking in one direction while their legs seem to be taking them in another direction. Wonder, how they get to one place when the body has 2 minds.

I am sure there are many more categories and even more variations under each category. I could manage 5. I think I know which category I fall under. What about you?

Random

If you are stressed, stand on your toes, close your eyes, spread your arms and soak in the heavenly love. So what if only crows end up loving you? That’s fine as long as you feel good about it.

If you are stressed, look at the pretty girl sitting next to you, keep looking at her till she sees you looking at her, smile and get back to what your are doing.

If you are stressed, rewind back to the 100m race where Usain Bolt “flew”, feel the adrenalin rush in your fingers tips and key in “I am not stressed”.

If you are stressed, take in a few deep breaths, feel the tension and then let loose.

If you are stressed, do nothing for a moment. Just do nothing for a moment. Don’t think, don’t write, don’t react, just be.

Family packs

6 packs were always popular. Shahrukh Khan made them sexy. Aamir khan responded with an 8 pack.

But which are the most popular packs? Any guesses. These packs are all around us; at work, in our homes and follow us wherever we go. Ok, I will tell you. The most popular of all packs are the family or joint family packs.

These packs find their way through any piece of clothing to make their presence felt. People stare at these packs and wonder how long it takes for such packs to develop. No pumping iron or painful crunches, just lots of food and cholesterol. The best thing about these packs is that they seem to be separate from the body. Everything else remaining the same, these packs grow in size. They seem to operate in a world of their own. They are not governed by laws of nature.

So once these packs develop, it takes a lot of pain and time to get rid of them. These packs thrive on food and lack of exercise and that’s the easiest way to live. Getting rid of these packs is easier said than done. However, where there is a pack there is a way and one way of getting rid of these packs is controlling what goes in along with making these packs work hard for their daily meal.

8th Wonder of the world

If at all there is place for an 8th wonder of the world, it has to be the ubiquitous Hyderabad auto. Supposed to accomodate 4, it is quite capable of holding 3 times as many. Now, you might be wondering 12 people can get into an auto.

I will do the arrangement for you. 3 on the seat behind, 4 perchedon the 3 behind, 2 on either side with their posteriors in mid air, 2 on either side of the driverand finally the driver. That makes it 12. Simple isnt it?

NO its not. The tought part begins when you stop the auto and tell the driver where you want to go.Before he says get in you say no looking at the teeming "millions" all huddled up for the journey of their lives. However the driver convinces you that there is place with his killer line: Saab jab dil mein jagah ho to kaayka problem.

As soon as you get in you know that you have been duped. A glance at your co passengers tells you their story. Now the journey itself is another story. I reserve it for another day.