"Man Overboard!" is what you are instructed to yell when you see an incredibly lucky human being floating around in the ocean. But what do you scream when you are the one falling overboard. You could hear the wind howling its way through tiny gaps in the structure. You could hear it, but until you turned a corner you didnt feel it. I turned a corner and whoom, it hit me in the face and almost blew me off my feet and straight over the railing into the ocean. Almost. With the heavy fog rolling it and a steady drizzle, you had no chance of being spotted if you did fall off. I was lucky. I am lucky to still be here.
On a dull foggy stormy night in Bohai Bay I almost died.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Monday, April 24, 2006
"The place with a view"
Heard
A really smart person, a senior, among the top students in the batch: "This place provides us a window of opportunity to do well...."
Me: (later)(to myself)..... but isn't this place supposed to give me more? Am I not supposed to make more out of it? Is it just that "small window" (of placements) that matter? Will I be left gazing out of through the bars if I don't do something in these few months?
And this from one of the smartest people in the batch... is there something wrong, I wonder? I should grow up?
A really smart person, a senior, among the top students in the batch: "This place provides us a window of opportunity to do well...."
Me: (later)(to myself)..... but isn't this place supposed to give me more? Am I not supposed to make more out of it? Is it just that "small window" (of placements) that matter? Will I be left gazing out of through the bars if I don't do something in these few months?
And this from one of the smartest people in the batch... is there something wrong, I wonder? I should grow up?
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Survival
As I sat there in the orange life boat with my seat belts fastened staring out into the waters of Bohai Bay my immediate thoughts were far far away. In the one week that I have spent in the place I should be calling my home, I have thought a lot. These thoughts bang around internally not because there is a lot of empty space up there, but because they are flooding up, struggling to get out and be spoken.
We were doing survival training for going offshore, two chinese oilfield workers, two Sri Lankan cooks who were going offshore to cook for rig crew, the Chinese instructor, the short changing chinese-english translator
and myself. He was short changing because for every ten words in chinese we received one in english.
The two streams of thought that battled around in my head were like this:
Who would have thought I would be able to go offshore on a rig in the middle of the bohai bay, not too far from north korea and ride on a helicopter to get there. Sounds James Bond like..yes?
But the question was, did I really wish to be Mr. Bond?( ok im exaggerating..what the hell). Stuck in the middle of nowhere. Stop your life. Take away everyone you know, everyone you've been with. Put yourself in a new place, a place you never thought in your wildest dreams you would be in. A place where the only thing you can do to keep sane is work. Was this some kind of weird experiment? Was this really where I wanted to be?
That question is hard to answer, because it kinda hard to look at yourself and understand where you are at?
I hated being in Canada when I was there, and now that im here I wish I was there. Perhaps someday when I leave here Ill miss this place too. So I give this place some time, some time to grow on me. Perhaps Ill grow used to it, perhaps ill grow to like it.
Anyway, from now on any long duration disappearances from the face of the earth by me will be attributed to being in the middle of nowhere.
We were doing survival training for going offshore, two chinese oilfield workers, two Sri Lankan cooks who were going offshore to cook for rig crew, the Chinese instructor, the short changing chinese-english translator
and myself. He was short changing because for every ten words in chinese we received one in english.
The two streams of thought that battled around in my head were like this:
Who would have thought I would be able to go offshore on a rig in the middle of the bohai bay, not too far from north korea and ride on a helicopter to get there. Sounds James Bond like..yes?
But the question was, did I really wish to be Mr. Bond?( ok im exaggerating..what the hell). Stuck in the middle of nowhere. Stop your life. Take away everyone you know, everyone you've been with. Put yourself in a new place, a place you never thought in your wildest dreams you would be in. A place where the only thing you can do to keep sane is work. Was this some kind of weird experiment? Was this really where I wanted to be?
That question is hard to answer, because it kinda hard to look at yourself and understand where you are at?
I hated being in Canada when I was there, and now that im here I wish I was there. Perhaps someday when I leave here Ill miss this place too. So I give this place some time, some time to grow on me. Perhaps Ill grow used to it, perhaps ill grow to like it.
Anyway, from now on any long duration disappearances from the face of the earth by me will be attributed to being in the middle of nowhere.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Where are the kids?
I must sound like an old man when I ask something like this. But this is something I have observed over the last few years and as I was out in the evening last week and this afternoon, I was wondering - where are the kids?
When I was much younger, about five, we moved into an apartment. Over the course of the next five or six years, I spent almost every evening of over forty weeks a year playing, running, chatting with other kids in the apartment complex. Come summer and out we were, playing - unmindful of the heat, scowls of housewives whose peace we were wrecking with our screams and the wrath of the people whose windowpanes we shattered. As I grew up, my activities grew more restricted to school and looking back, that was not healthy at all. I knew few of the kids in my neighbourhood when we shifted houses from a different city and all my sporting activities were restricted to the school. But the times spent playing, chatting, whispering to each other, irritating our parents were integral to growing up. But I noticed, the younger one was doing none of that- more time was being spent reading, watching television and summers were spent attending some class which my parents wouldn't have dared enrolling me to for fear of the tantrums I would throw and more importantly because they knew that I would be doing something that didn't involve the idiot box.
Admittedly, kids these days do much more than I did when I was younger. True, the lure of television, internet is far greater. And yes, the roads are more congested and many apartments don't have the space inside their compunds. Are schools more demanding? Maybe. Kids spend their summer attending classes, camps, being out on vacation- basically being occupied. It has its benefits I guess. But in my view, being a kid, outside the watchful eyes of adults around you, playing as you will, unconstrained by time limits is far more important to growing up.
The more worrying sign about all this is the lack of interaction with and knowledge of the people around us. In large apartment complexes, people hardly seem to notice (forget know) their neighbours. This I observed when I went to meet a friend and I lost his door number. No one but the watchman knew the door number when I mentioned the same- there was the careless shrug, the puzzled look, the raised eye-brow that such a name existed in the neighbourhood.
(It could very well have been that guy's fault but these are still dangerous signs).
This attitude of adults tends to rub off onto children and we seem to grow more and more apart. True, people want their privacy but interaction is equally important I guess. It's important that you don't grow up as just another person, family in the neighbourhood. People around you know you as a person and not as a door number. I don't know if these things will happen, I don't know whether when I move on I will know my neighbours or whether I'd want my kids out playing in the heat but maybe I'll come back to this post someday and think about it.
When I was much younger, about five, we moved into an apartment. Over the course of the next five or six years, I spent almost every evening of over forty weeks a year playing, running, chatting with other kids in the apartment complex. Come summer and out we were, playing - unmindful of the heat, scowls of housewives whose peace we were wrecking with our screams and the wrath of the people whose windowpanes we shattered. As I grew up, my activities grew more restricted to school and looking back, that was not healthy at all. I knew few of the kids in my neighbourhood when we shifted houses from a different city and all my sporting activities were restricted to the school. But the times spent playing, chatting, whispering to each other, irritating our parents were integral to growing up. But I noticed, the younger one was doing none of that- more time was being spent reading, watching television and summers were spent attending some class which my parents wouldn't have dared enrolling me to for fear of the tantrums I would throw and more importantly because they knew that I would be doing something that didn't involve the idiot box.
Admittedly, kids these days do much more than I did when I was younger. True, the lure of television, internet is far greater. And yes, the roads are more congested and many apartments don't have the space inside their compunds. Are schools more demanding? Maybe. Kids spend their summer attending classes, camps, being out on vacation- basically being occupied. It has its benefits I guess. But in my view, being a kid, outside the watchful eyes of adults around you, playing as you will, unconstrained by time limits is far more important to growing up.
The more worrying sign about all this is the lack of interaction with and knowledge of the people around us. In large apartment complexes, people hardly seem to notice (forget know) their neighbours. This I observed when I went to meet a friend and I lost his door number. No one but the watchman knew the door number when I mentioned the same- there was the careless shrug, the puzzled look, the raised eye-brow that such a name existed in the neighbourhood.
(It could very well have been that guy's fault but these are still dangerous signs).
This attitude of adults tends to rub off onto children and we seem to grow more and more apart. True, people want their privacy but interaction is equally important I guess. It's important that you don't grow up as just another person, family in the neighbourhood. People around you know you as a person and not as a door number. I don't know if these things will happen, I don't know whether when I move on I will know my neighbours or whether I'd want my kids out playing in the heat but maybe I'll come back to this post someday and think about it.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Simple Joys
Kisiki muskuraahaton pe ho nisaar
Kisika dard mil sake to le udhaar
Kisike waaste ho tere dil mein pyaar
Jeena issi ka naam hai
Maana apni jeb se fakeer hain
Phir bhi yaaron dil ke ham ameer hain
Mitte jo pyaar ke liye woh zindagi
Jale bahaar ke liye woh zindagi
Kisi ko ho na ho hamein to aitbaar
Jeena issi kaa naam hai
Rishta dil se dil ke aitbaar ka
Zinda hai hameen se naam pyaar ka
Ke mar ke bhi kisi ko yaad aayenge
Kisi ke aansuon mein muskuraayenge
Kahega phool har kali se baar baar
Jeena issi kaa naam hai
Kisiki muskuraahaton pe ho nisaar..
- Mukesh, Anari
I don't know enough about Hindi music to comment on Mukesh or other singers of his era. But even I can recognize a lovely song when I hear one and this one of my favourite Mukesh songs. Lovely!!!
Kisika dard mil sake to le udhaar
Kisike waaste ho tere dil mein pyaar
Jeena issi ka naam hai
Maana apni jeb se fakeer hain
Phir bhi yaaron dil ke ham ameer hain
Mitte jo pyaar ke liye woh zindagi
Jale bahaar ke liye woh zindagi
Kisi ko ho na ho hamein to aitbaar
Jeena issi kaa naam hai
Rishta dil se dil ke aitbaar ka
Zinda hai hameen se naam pyaar ka
Ke mar ke bhi kisi ko yaad aayenge
Kisi ke aansuon mein muskuraayenge
Kahega phool har kali se baar baar
Jeena issi kaa naam hai
Kisiki muskuraahaton pe ho nisaar..
- Mukesh, Anari
I don't know enough about Hindi music to comment on Mukesh or other singers of his era. But even I can recognize a lovely song when I hear one and this one of my favourite Mukesh songs. Lovely!!!
Saturday, April 15, 2006
'Farishtha'
It had been a warm day. But over the last hour, it had started becoming cloudy. He was happy and was taking his new vehicle out for a spin, windows lowered, the salty breeze hitting his face, a song playing in the background. The fanciest restaurant in town, the best of their wines and the prettiest of women, what more could a guy ask for.
He saw her, again. It had been months or was it years. She looked just as lovely. He had wondered what it was- the face, the eyes, the smile.... damn he had never figured it out but the package well, suffice to say he was spell-bound, yet again (in a non-wizard fashion).
He was sitting at home all alone, reading his book, listening to music. He was trying to drown out the voice, the face, the evening. How could he have let it happen again? He was angry at his helplessness. There seemed to be no free will any longer and this hurt a man in control even more! What was she feeling? This was a question he had never figured out.... would he, finally?
He saw her, again. It had been months or was it years. She looked just as lovely. He had wondered what it was- the face, the eyes, the smile.... damn he had never figured it out but the package well, suffice to say he was spell-bound, yet again (in a non-wizard fashion).
He was sitting at home all alone, reading his book, listening to music. He was trying to drown out the voice, the face, the evening. How could he have let it happen again? He was angry at his helplessness. There seemed to be no free will any longer and this hurt a man in control even more! What was she feeling? This was a question he had never figured out.... would he, finally?
Friday, April 07, 2006
Dosa woes
I know- even for frequent bloggers this is too frequent. But, something happened this morning that could alter my life in an unexpected, radical fashion.
I'm a dosa guy. Anywhere I go, if there is dosa available, I'll probably be eating it. My folks are big fans of the much poorer relative, the idli- bah it sux. Ok, moving right along- I am having difficult deciding whether I like the chennai dosa better or the Bangalore one. The Chennai ones are thinner and crispier but I have taken a liking to the thicker Bangalore variety. The Msaslaa dosas are a different story altogether. Don't like either!!! The masala adds nothing to a good dosa.
Now, to the point. I dropped the older one off at the airport and on my way back home, decided to stop for a dosa. I went to the Sangeetha outlet on Bazullah Road. Now, while I like Saravanaas, Sangeetha is closer and I used to be a regular there. I order my dosa and coffee. The coffee was mildl cold and could have competed with the Pepsi I drank last night.... and the dosa, was not crisp, thin or hot. How hard can it be to give a hot dosa. I mean all you have to do is just serve it off the 'kal'. I am starting to tilt more and more towards the Bangalore types and I definitely won't recommend Sangeetha to anyone. All those dosas and coffees at the Sangeetha, man... those were good times. It's the end of an era, sigh!
I'm a dosa guy. Anywhere I go, if there is dosa available, I'll probably be eating it. My folks are big fans of the much poorer relative, the idli- bah it sux. Ok, moving right along- I am having difficult deciding whether I like the chennai dosa better or the Bangalore one. The Chennai ones are thinner and crispier but I have taken a liking to the thicker Bangalore variety. The Msaslaa dosas are a different story altogether. Don't like either!!! The masala adds nothing to a good dosa.
Now, to the point. I dropped the older one off at the airport and on my way back home, decided to stop for a dosa. I went to the Sangeetha outlet on Bazullah Road. Now, while I like Saravanaas, Sangeetha is closer and I used to be a regular there. I order my dosa and coffee. The coffee was mildl cold and could have competed with the Pepsi I drank last night.... and the dosa, was not crisp, thin or hot. How hard can it be to give a hot dosa. I mean all you have to do is just serve it off the 'kal'. I am starting to tilt more and more towards the Bangalore types and I definitely won't recommend Sangeetha to anyone. All those dosas and coffees at the Sangeetha, man... those were good times. It's the end of an era, sigh!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Random
It's been a long time. I did not know what to write and the occasional poem that was posted with due credit to its authors was, well in a bid to keep the blog alive from my end. The 'y' key on the keyboard is causing some trouble. So, I request whoever it is who is reading this nonsense to understand and forgive but I guess you reall have a lot of time on your hands. So many y's in one sentence!!!
I have now figured out what I want to post about. I need to chronicle my ten months on campus. It has a been a wonderful experience thus far. Also coming up, a post on my room and how it is odd to have vacated.
Now that the teaser previews are done, let the show begin. For all those who don't know, I will be in Chennai, living at home for the next two months, working with an auditing firm in a (ahem!) consulting role, doling out gyaan and hopefully, actually learning stuff. Now that I have come back after spending time away from the city, I get what people mean about the weather- It is HOT and STICKY. Also, I get what they say about older siblings who work- They serve their purposes. The guy pays for everything I buy and also has gotten me a Shuffle...
By the end of the summer, I hope to be a well-read, erudite individual. Any recommendations that will gently nudge me in that direction at a break-neck speed are welcome. No, I don't really want to read classics- good literature doesn't mean it should've been written before 1925! I have just started reading "The end of Poverty". But I might not be able to finish the book before it is taken away and hence, anone who can lend me a copy, please please do. I promise that I will take better care of the book than I do of myself. And anyone who has a copy of "The Undercover Economist"? Ok, I will stop now.
People, you are going to hear a lot more from me this summer. So, please don't waste your time and abuse the free internet at work.... Have a rocking summer and people who lend me books, please keep visiting. And people who don't, you really should!!
I have now figured out what I want to post about. I need to chronicle my ten months on campus. It has a been a wonderful experience thus far. Also coming up, a post on my room and how it is odd to have vacated.
Now that the teaser previews are done, let the show begin. For all those who don't know, I will be in Chennai, living at home for the next two months, working with an auditing firm in a (ahem!) consulting role, doling out gyaan and hopefully, actually learning stuff. Now that I have come back after spending time away from the city, I get what people mean about the weather- It is HOT and STICKY. Also, I get what they say about older siblings who work- They serve their purposes. The guy pays for everything I buy and also has gotten me a Shuffle...
By the end of the summer, I hope to be a well-read, erudite individual. Any recommendations that will gently nudge me in that direction at a break-neck speed are welcome. No, I don't really want to read classics- good literature doesn't mean it should've been written before 1925! I have just started reading "The end of Poverty". But I might not be able to finish the book before it is taken away and hence, anone who can lend me a copy, please please do. I promise that I will take better care of the book than I do of myself. And anyone who has a copy of "The Undercover Economist"? Ok, I will stop now.
People, you are going to hear a lot more from me this summer. So, please don't waste your time and abuse the free internet at work.... Have a rocking summer and people who lend me books, please keep visiting. And people who don't, you really should!!
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Cycle
Pointless.
Direction? East?
West. North. South
Where?
Circle. A Sphere.
Life.
Night. Day
Day Night
Night Day
Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.
___________________________________________________________
Song I'm listening to now:
Hello my friend, we meet again
It's been awhile, where should we begin?
Feels like forever
Within my heart are memories
Of perfect love that you gave to me
Oh, I remember
When you are with me, I'm free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others
we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My sacrifice
We've seen our share of ups and downs
Oh how quickly life can turn around
In an instant
It feels so good to reunite
Within yourself and within your mind
Let's find peace there
When you are with me, I'm free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My sacrifice
I just want to say hello again
I just want to say hello again
When you are with me I'm free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
Cause when you are with me I am free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My sacrifice, My sacrifice
I just want to say hello again
I just want to say hello again
My sacrifice.
- Creed
Direction? East?
West. North. South
Where?
Circle. A Sphere.
Life.
Night. Day
Day Night
Night Day
Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.
___________________________________________________________
Song I'm listening to now:
Hello my friend, we meet again
It's been awhile, where should we begin?
Feels like forever
Within my heart are memories
Of perfect love that you gave to me
Oh, I remember
When you are with me, I'm free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others
we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My sacrifice
We've seen our share of ups and downs
Oh how quickly life can turn around
In an instant
It feels so good to reunite
Within yourself and within your mind
Let's find peace there
When you are with me, I'm free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My sacrifice
I just want to say hello again
I just want to say hello again
When you are with me I'm free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
Cause when you are with me I am free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My sacrifice, My sacrifice
I just want to say hello again
I just want to say hello again
My sacrifice.
- Creed
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