It is a strange phase of life to be in. Ever since I moved to Mumbai, I have been fortunate in getting to stay with family since Priya was also posted in the city. She has had a big influence in my life right from when we were kids and she used to somehow convince me to do all the right and wrong things exactly the way she wanted them to be done. I had branched out since then and throughout my stay in various hostels and cities and friend circles, developed my own quirks. As we started staying together (for the first time since we were kids) about 3 years ago, Priya must have found it difficult to reconcile to the changed persona of her brother...not that she didn't try...in fact, she would be at her wit's end trying to make me do things a particular way or stop me from doing them in another. At some occasions she succeeded, at others she failed...thankfully, the ones she succeeded in also included convincing me to purchase my flat which has been the most logical investment decision I have ever happened to make.
Now that Priya is married and I am staying alone (she stays just a couple of flats away but living separately all the same and it is quite different), things are slowly taking a turn. Most of the evenings she does drop in or I go to her place for dinner, but mostly it is "main aur meri tanhaai" that inhabit the flat that Priya had so painstakingly and lovingly helped build. Knowing her, I was sure that she would get over it and start to build her own home the way she wants and she has done exactly that. In the process however, I have remained constant...without change, stuck in some sort of a limbo.
I would so love to have my parents come and stay with me and not many months pass before I bring back this topic with them. However, it is not to be as of the moment and I understand their point of view. Getting uprooted from where you have spent so many years of your life and moving to a completely new place with more strangers than acquaintances is not really easy...getting into the perils of settling in a new work place has been stopping so many of us from resigning from our existing jobs...things are no different there. So I am alone in this big bad city and it sucks. As it is, I am not of the partying around town age (not that I ever was) and as such, the merits of living in a bachelor pad all alone in a city like Mumbai are lost on me. Friends are great, work is fine, movies, plays and musical concerts are aplenty but it is not the same...not at all.
The one solution that everyone (really everyone, right from uncle, aunts, and their fifth cousins) has been doling out in good measure is the "get married" one. I know it is about time and a lot of friends would be more than happy to tell me just how much about time it is...given that since last June, I am already in the fourth decade of my existence on earth :-). I also know that it may solve to a large extent, the situation that I find myself in. Not that getting married would have me hitting all the party spots in town but at least there will be company and who knows what we might make of it. Plus it's not as if you decide to go the marriage path one day and get married the next. There is a whole lot of process here too and I have no idea as to how long it may take. This process, too is so complicated and you never know how much of yourself to expose and how soon. Ideas of honesty and frankness appear good on paper but practical stuff may be completely different. You never know if and when you know enough about someone and you never know if and when you should let out enough of you for someone to know who you really are.
And thus I keep thinking...is marriage the only solution or one that is sustainable? I am not too sure considering there are things that need to really click even post marriage in order to build the same degree of closeness that one has with family. All of it will take time and will happen in due course, marriage, settling in...the works...but the question is whether till then or beyond then, it is going to be all morose and isolated or can I make it better? I am sure that there are ways of making it better, it is just that the effort required does not seem to be worth it. The languid inertia that I find myself in seems to be taking a lot of doing to be lifted up.
Right, so now that we have all of this sorted (or unsorted...depends on the way you look at it), let's move on to more interesting stuff. The World Cup is underway and despite a pretty lackluster first week, it is getting into the more interesting phase where the bigger teams clash with each other. Tickets have been impossible to get, TV coverage is not too bad and considering that the IPL follows, I think that the bug I have been talking about thus far is covered as of now. So cheers to India...de ghuma ke :-)
Friday, February 25, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Keeping busy
It is sheer boredom and the fact that I can postpone whatever little is occupying me at work currently, that I am here on the blog. What a waste, really that it has come to this! Started out as something that would record my life the way I see it, that would note my observations, feelings, thoughts, and ideas...Mode C was meant to be so much more but it was all of this only once upon a time. I have been busy since then and more than that, have been enjoying reading stuff online too much to bother about writing any.
There have been many things that have happened since I last wrote which is to be expected given the last time I wrote a post was some 7 months ago. My sister got married, I finally graduated from the small car to the mid-big sized car segment, the team I manage at work grew to five really smart people (Well...four smart ones, excluding me), I went on a regular exercise - good food course, went off it and saw myself bloat, and have now been back on the course again.
All these apart, the world is the same place as it was with its share of the strange and the mundane, joys and sorrows...the killings and plunderings co-existing with the winnings and achievements. With Manoj entering the family and Priya moving on to complete the family of her betrothed, I get a lot of time to sit alone and introspect...not too much of it though, considering that Priya continues to stay in the same building, even on the same floor as I do (which is a blessing, really).
Whatever little time I do get though, is spent on some good deal of mental reasoning, idea formulation, rationalizing and cross-questioning of thoughts, and at times, even their dissolution. Random thoughts...will India win the world cup for Sachin or vice versa...what is the purpose of my life, just to make a living, reproduce and die or to actually create something that carries my name and legacy forward...how and when will I be able to convince my parents to come and stay with me permanently...is the IPL only a random money making, extravagance showing game for the rich-beyond-means or does it bode well for the sport of cricket...and does it really matter as long as I am entertained not just by the cricket but also by the disgusting show of financial muscle...who and how would my life partner turn out to be and is it right to go the route of arranged marriage with no background or compatibility check possible and does it really matter...when would my venture finally see the light of day, if at all and what would it be like, the multimedia restaurant or the Home Office or the Fin Mart or something completely different...
There are no clear answers. Heck, there aren't any clear questions in the first place. All that's there is time, more than I can gainfully employ. I do keep randomly spending it quite nicely though. There have been some really good concerts that I have been to recently (the morning and evening concerts at Janfest on the 26th of Jan were specially nice and brilliant, of course, was also the time when both Manish and I lost our hearts to Gwyneth Wentink, the Harp player from Netherlands). I need to start getting back to theatre...participation may not be very active but at least as an audience...and when will I finally be able to play the guitar well (the three month lessons during my summers in Cal are all but forgotten)
I must catch a movie today. Keeping busy certainly helps.
There have been many things that have happened since I last wrote which is to be expected given the last time I wrote a post was some 7 months ago. My sister got married, I finally graduated from the small car to the mid-big sized car segment, the team I manage at work grew to five really smart people (Well...four smart ones, excluding me), I went on a regular exercise - good food course, went off it and saw myself bloat, and have now been back on the course again.
All these apart, the world is the same place as it was with its share of the strange and the mundane, joys and sorrows...the killings and plunderings co-existing with the winnings and achievements. With Manoj entering the family and Priya moving on to complete the family of her betrothed, I get a lot of time to sit alone and introspect...not too much of it though, considering that Priya continues to stay in the same building, even on the same floor as I do (which is a blessing, really).
Whatever little time I do get though, is spent on some good deal of mental reasoning, idea formulation, rationalizing and cross-questioning of thoughts, and at times, even their dissolution. Random thoughts...will India win the world cup for Sachin or vice versa...what is the purpose of my life, just to make a living, reproduce and die or to actually create something that carries my name and legacy forward...how and when will I be able to convince my parents to come and stay with me permanently...is the IPL only a random money making, extravagance showing game for the rich-beyond-means or does it bode well for the sport of cricket...and does it really matter as long as I am entertained not just by the cricket but also by the disgusting show of financial muscle...who and how would my life partner turn out to be and is it right to go the route of arranged marriage with no background or compatibility check possible and does it really matter...when would my venture finally see the light of day, if at all and what would it be like, the multimedia restaurant or the Home Office or the Fin Mart or something completely different...
There are no clear answers. Heck, there aren't any clear questions in the first place. All that's there is time, more than I can gainfully employ. I do keep randomly spending it quite nicely though. There have been some really good concerts that I have been to recently (the morning and evening concerts at Janfest on the 26th of Jan were specially nice and brilliant, of course, was also the time when both Manish and I lost our hearts to Gwyneth Wentink, the Harp player from Netherlands). I need to start getting back to theatre...participation may not be very active but at least as an audience...and when will I finally be able to play the guitar well (the three month lessons during my summers in Cal are all but forgotten)
I must catch a movie today. Keeping busy certainly helps.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
A milestone crossed
As I sat down to write the invitation for my 30th birthday party (yes, I had one...a good one), there were several things that were going through my mind. On one side, there was the apprehension about what this new decade would bring with it, while on the other, memories of the 10 years that just went by, played in my head. The dread was setting in and so was the excitement. By the time I had finished writing the senti invite and the parody of a follow-up to it, one thing became abundantly clear to me...I was never going to be able to choose one over the other, and at least for the 9th of June 2010, it was going to be a heady mix of fear and anticipation.
So many things happened over the last ten years (considering they constitute one-third of my life, hardly a surprise) that it is difficult to really mark out anything particular and let go of the others. Most importantly, I became a qualified engineer and a manager in the last decade, which also witnessed, amongst other things, my first job, first love, first heartbreak, the adventures of MBA, my first car, a death-defying accident, big money...the list is endless.
In fact, after the rather quiet teenage spent in the safe and sheltered environs of my maternal household in Patna, the 20s were when I really became independent. From learning to cook for myself to mastering bikes (despite the accident, I actually rode them well) and cars, I was much more free with myself, much less encumbered with what repercussions any act of mine would carry. The mindset changed from a shy, small-towner to someone who has been there, done that. The attitude became full of confidence, so much so that it became a trait that marks my personality today (or so I would like to believe).
Things evolved and so did I, forming my individuality, letting go of imbibed traits or holding on to them and making them my own. There were a lot of imperfections, lot of apprehensions, instances where I was down in the dumps and others where I was right up there. All this, however, will probably happen in the coming decade as well but maybe not as frequently. At 30, I would like to believe that most of the attributes that were to shape my character are already in place and while there would be additions and deletions, they will be few and far between.
So what do I expect of the coming 10 years? I don't know really, except that additional responsibilities will come in, the family shall expand and new relationships formed, it will be time to take the plunge and leave the cushion of a well-paying job, and at the same time, get hold of and enjoy the worldly luxuries for my family and myself. I don't want to wait for the 40's to come for me to get to all this and make all these decisions. I just hope that I am fortunate (as I have been over the last 10 years) and strong enough to stick to plans and make this most important part of my life really sing.
So many things happened over the last ten years (considering they constitute one-third of my life, hardly a surprise) that it is difficult to really mark out anything particular and let go of the others. Most importantly, I became a qualified engineer and a manager in the last decade, which also witnessed, amongst other things, my first job, first love, first heartbreak, the adventures of MBA, my first car, a death-defying accident, big money...the list is endless.
In fact, after the rather quiet teenage spent in the safe and sheltered environs of my maternal household in Patna, the 20s were when I really became independent. From learning to cook for myself to mastering bikes (despite the accident, I actually rode them well) and cars, I was much more free with myself, much less encumbered with what repercussions any act of mine would carry. The mindset changed from a shy, small-towner to someone who has been there, done that. The attitude became full of confidence, so much so that it became a trait that marks my personality today (or so I would like to believe).
Things evolved and so did I, forming my individuality, letting go of imbibed traits or holding on to them and making them my own. There were a lot of imperfections, lot of apprehensions, instances where I was down in the dumps and others where I was right up there. All this, however, will probably happen in the coming decade as well but maybe not as frequently. At 30, I would like to believe that most of the attributes that were to shape my character are already in place and while there would be additions and deletions, they will be few and far between.
So what do I expect of the coming 10 years? I don't know really, except that additional responsibilities will come in, the family shall expand and new relationships formed, it will be time to take the plunge and leave the cushion of a well-paying job, and at the same time, get hold of and enjoy the worldly luxuries for my family and myself. I don't want to wait for the 40's to come for me to get to all this and make all these decisions. I just hope that I am fortunate (as I have been over the last 10 years) and strong enough to stick to plans and make this most important part of my life really sing.
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Back again
I had almost given up on the blog after what happened last time I tried to write something. There was also this thing that is popularly called writers' block that I had hit and I hardly knew what to write or even had the enthusiasm to try finding out things that were interesting enough to recount to those who still read this space. Habit, however, as they say, is a leech and so I am back here with yet another update. If I offend someone or something by what I write (both here down below or anytime in the past or future), I am unconditionally apologetic but that is the best that I can do.
So, what have I been up to all these days? Let me see, I have watched a lot of movies for a first. Unfortunately, none of them have excited me enough to want to write a review. Whether it is the idyllic Ishqiya or the message-heavy My Name Is Khan, the thought-provoking Up In The Air or the different Karthik Calling Karthik, or even the visual marvel Avatar, I may have liked or disliked them but not really loved or hated any of them enough to warrant a blog post.
Holi just went by and was awesome because Papa and Mummy were here to celebrate it with us at the new house (this is the first Holi here). They are here for another week or so and plan to go after Papa and I go to watch the inaugural IPL (Indian Premier League) cricket match at the stadium on the 12th. The times when parents are home are such blessings, one looks forward to going home from work and spending weekends out of bed with so much more enthusiasm. Priya, my sister, does manage to keep me on my toes even otherwise but hard as she may try, poor thing can never match the impact that Papa and Mummy have.
Life is chugging along just fine and I am in one of those phases of mine where even if I am not really excited about the way things are going, I am pretty content and that, I believe, is more than half the battle won. I like my friends, am reasonably stable financially and do not hate my work even though I have form and content issues (more content than form, if you know what I mean)
Work, as I said, is getting slightly complicated with the mid-work-life crisis showing its face yet again. As a practice so far, I have not spent exactly 22 months with each of my previous assignments, 22 months at Infosys, another 22 at Kotak Wealth, Delhi as a Relationship Manager, and as you may have guessed by now, I have completed 22 months in Mumbai at Kotak Wealth. So is it time to start something new (as the logo of Shoppers Stop, the company in which my sister works, says)? I am not too sure but what I am sure of is that I need to be prepared for some tough questions from both sides during the upcoming appraisal.
Appraisal reminds me of something Jassi (colleague and dear friend) showed me this morning. It was the status update of a friend of his related to appraisal which pointed to the dialogue of one of the few classic Hindi Film Industry's comedies, Andaz Apna Apna. The dialogue goes like this (and reads beautifully if the context with which you are reading it is the appraisal process):
bbbbba .... bolna kya tha chup kara diya
unka ek ek sawal, mere do do jawab
sawal ek ... jawab do
sawal-jawab...sawal-jawab...sawal-jawab
chupppp...lambi khamoshi
So, what have I been up to all these days? Let me see, I have watched a lot of movies for a first. Unfortunately, none of them have excited me enough to want to write a review. Whether it is the idyllic Ishqiya or the message-heavy My Name Is Khan, the thought-provoking Up In The Air or the different Karthik Calling Karthik, or even the visual marvel Avatar, I may have liked or disliked them but not really loved or hated any of them enough to warrant a blog post.
Holi just went by and was awesome because Papa and Mummy were here to celebrate it with us at the new house (this is the first Holi here). They are here for another week or so and plan to go after Papa and I go to watch the inaugural IPL (Indian Premier League) cricket match at the stadium on the 12th. The times when parents are home are such blessings, one looks forward to going home from work and spending weekends out of bed with so much more enthusiasm. Priya, my sister, does manage to keep me on my toes even otherwise but hard as she may try, poor thing can never match the impact that Papa and Mummy have.
Life is chugging along just fine and I am in one of those phases of mine where even if I am not really excited about the way things are going, I am pretty content and that, I believe, is more than half the battle won. I like my friends, am reasonably stable financially and do not hate my work even though I have form and content issues (more content than form, if you know what I mean)
Work, as I said, is getting slightly complicated with the mid-work-life crisis showing its face yet again. As a practice so far, I have not spent exactly 22 months with each of my previous assignments, 22 months at Infosys, another 22 at Kotak Wealth, Delhi as a Relationship Manager, and as you may have guessed by now, I have completed 22 months in Mumbai at Kotak Wealth. So is it time to start something new (as the logo of Shoppers Stop, the company in which my sister works, says)? I am not too sure but what I am sure of is that I need to be prepared for some tough questions from both sides during the upcoming appraisal.
Appraisal reminds me of something Jassi (colleague and dear friend) showed me this morning. It was the status update of a friend of his related to appraisal which pointed to the dialogue of one of the few classic Hindi Film Industry's comedies, Andaz Apna Apna. The dialogue goes like this (and reads beautifully if the context with which you are reading it is the appraisal process):
bbbbba .... bolna kya tha chup kara diya
unka ek ek sawal, mere do do jawab
sawal ek ... jawab do
sawal-jawab...sawal-jawab...sawal-jawab
chupppp...lambi khamoshi
Thursday, December 24, 2009
The Blogger's curse
I am extremely sad and hurt, and not for the first time because of my blog.
It is something that seems to be so inexplicable initially but once you think about it, all of it starts making sense. The writing of a blog is, in my opinion, all about putting down your feelings and emotions in a manner to which you will be able to relate, some time in the future when you go back to the blog and reminisce about the days gone by.
In the process, however, one tends to write of memories the way they came about, not shrouding them in any manner of propriety. In conjunction with this, if one also names people in the blog, it no longer remains mere memories associated with one's own self or actions. The interpretations start coming in, scope becomes broader and the probable impact of the written word is deep rooted.
Reminded of the same today through some context, I was made to realize that in the communication age of the present, reference checks for jobs, opinion formation by friends and so much more happens through an online search for a name that a casual remark in a blog can cause much unintended harm.
I appreciate this and have made necessary corrections. However, what still beats me is the indelible impact the writings can have on an individual and my relationship with the individual.
Is it not correct, then, to write about things in a lingo which was so common and acceptable in the context and settings the memories are from? Are things so far removed that the banter of yesteryears is being taken as the slander of today? Why does a mere play on words have to be taken as an expression of opinion that does not even exist? How can the blogger express his feelings such that no one is able to look at it so dispassionately, dissect it line by line, and yet not be able to read between the lines?
I am, definitely, extremely sad and hurt.
It is something that seems to be so inexplicable initially but once you think about it, all of it starts making sense. The writing of a blog is, in my opinion, all about putting down your feelings and emotions in a manner to which you will be able to relate, some time in the future when you go back to the blog and reminisce about the days gone by.
In the process, however, one tends to write of memories the way they came about, not shrouding them in any manner of propriety. In conjunction with this, if one also names people in the blog, it no longer remains mere memories associated with one's own self or actions. The interpretations start coming in, scope becomes broader and the probable impact of the written word is deep rooted.
Reminded of the same today through some context, I was made to realize that in the communication age of the present, reference checks for jobs, opinion formation by friends and so much more happens through an online search for a name that a casual remark in a blog can cause much unintended harm.
I appreciate this and have made necessary corrections. However, what still beats me is the indelible impact the writings can have on an individual and my relationship with the individual.
Is it not correct, then, to write about things in a lingo which was so common and acceptable in the context and settings the memories are from? Are things so far removed that the banter of yesteryears is being taken as the slander of today? Why does a mere play on words have to be taken as an expression of opinion that does not even exist? How can the blogger express his feelings such that no one is able to look at it so dispassionately, dissect it line by line, and yet not be able to read between the lines?
I am, definitely, extremely sad and hurt.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
This day, that year!
At a friend's wedding last month, I was pleasantly surprised to realize that most of the closest friends of the groom in attendance were actually class/hostel mates of his from senior secondary school. The fact that the school in question was my own school, the famous (notorious?) Delhi Public School, RK Puram, only added to the nostalgia that swept over me with this realization. To imagine other school class/hostel mates being so close to each other after so many years and at the same time, there being so much distance between my own friends from that era and me, it was a saddening thought.
And then I met this hostel mate of mine, who I was reasonably close to, at the airport this weekend. Both of us were coming back from weddings of people both of us knew, just that I went to one and he to the other. Seeing him there brought back so many memories, what with the recent remembrance that other wedding had initiated. I was, however, shocked at myself, especially with the lame enthusiasm that I greeted him with. Instead of meeting like long lost buddies, we met like strangers, some bit of it may be attributable to the insanely early hours of the day at which we met.
I was also chatting on the internet a couple of days before this weekend meeting with another hostel mate of mine and he seemed pretty disillusioned as well. Keeping in touch is so easy yet so difficult. Life moves on and so do circles of friends but both of us agreed that it is up to an individual to pick and choose who or what they want to retain out of the different phases of life. Retention of friends for good is so much a personal trait rather than being explained by any amount of providence or even the age old excuse of lack of time.
Having felt and said all this, I just thought of putting my thoughts together and go back in time some 12-13 years back (how time flies!!!) and write about the people who mattered probably the most in that period and what I have left of those associations now. So here goes, this one dedicated to DPS RKP, my alma mater and all things/people related to it:
Arnav Hazarika Som, extremely popular with girls, the rock-listening, guitar-playing variety...compete antithesis of what I was at that point in time. And yet we became close, close enough to share a bed (two single beds joined together, don't get any ideas!) in a room of nine people (yes, we had nine people in one room!). I learnt a lot from Arnav (or Ronnie as was his nick name) and I looked up to him, wanting to be like him some day. It was only much later when I met him during my MBA summers stint in Kolkata that I could see myself as coming anywhere close to it.
I met him last at the Delhi airport just a few days ago and though I always knew that he was in Mumbai, I could never really initiate any contact. He is now in the private equity arm of a Times Group company and from what I could gather, doing well for himself.
Shivanu Kohli, the quintessential serious and shy guy who would work really hard and not party at all. He was actually a contrasting personality, outwardly silent and yet innately loud and extremely vocal. From a reasonably large town in Haryana, he had the famous Jat temper but displayed it very rarely. Butt of our jokes for the way he looked, he never complained, at least not initially. As we became more comfortable with each other's company, he did use to flare up at times but as I said, it was once in a blue moon. Very serious about IIT entrance preparations, he was the one who gave me the news of my selection and was rather short when I hinted that probably he did not read my rank correctly, especially when he had the misfortune of not being selected at all.
I met him last at the MBA entrance group discussion for SP Jain Institute which was about 5 years back. I later came to know that he had taken up a job at Coke post his MBA from SP Jain but I have no clue where he currently is.
Dipanjan Das, the suave, boarding school old-timer, with lean, chocolate boyish looks, the perfect gentleman that girls would love to take to their parents, someone who could naturally converse in a language and of matters that were still alien to me. Dipanjan was almost always soft spoken and the last of participants in any kind of revelry that we may end up in. He almost seemed to look at us in amusement as we started to rejoice the hostel life and freedom associated with it, having already been there and done that. Teased no end for his alleged flings with the fairer sex, he could be the perfect display of grace and yet the right amount of silent anger that is capable of putting others to shame and silence.
Last I knew (through social networking sites), he had completed his MBA and was with GE. I have not really interacted with him even once after school and I am not sure if I will get to, in the near future.
Snehesh Mitra, the closest of all my friends in school, he was the boisterous Bengali having stayed his life in Bhagalpur in Bihar. Loud and vivacious, handsome and good looking, and yet a little elephant footed when it came to girls, very impulsive and emotional, not too keen on working so hard as to spoil whatever fun there was to be had, Snehesh was very likeable, at least to me. We literally hanged out together, separated only for the classes in the morning (we were in different sections). I could be very comfortable in Snehesh's company and I guess he did not mind mine either.
I would have met him last about a year after school when he was in Delhi preparing for IIT entrance exams and I was there for some administrative work at the CBSE office. I know (again from social networking sites) that he is married and working for a start-up in Bangalore. Even though I have his email id and probably even his contact number, I haven't really been able to re-initiate anything.
Sumit Kumar Jain, another Bhagalpuriah, but as different from Snehesh as chalk is from cheese. Very confident and assertive, except from some sort of complex that he seemed to have on account of his height, Sumit was one smart cookie. The perfect all rounder, he could score in academics, speak and act passionately, look good and charm girls, the works. I did not really kick it off with Sumit but we were still very cordial with each other and when it came to having fun at the expense of others, neither of us were found wanting. Always willing to rock the party, Sumit could be relied upon for the lighter moments but may perhaps not have been as much of a partner when things went wrong for me.
Last I spoke to him was through a social netwroking site when I pinged him out of the blue and got an encouraging reply in return. Nothing happened after that and the last I know, he graduated from IIM Calcutta and was working with HSBC, first in Mumbai, and then somewhere in the Middle East.
Mudit Bhargava, the guy who impressed my uncle the first day he came to drop me off at the hostel, very organized, diligent, and a shining role model for those in our age group...the sort of person who comes across as well read, a thinker who can act without delays, someone who knew how to manage time between whiling it away and utilizing it wisely. Mudit was another person I used to look up to and even be in awe of. Hailing from the snow covered hills of Simla, he fluctuated from being extremely warm to even cold at times. I never really was able to figure him out completely because he seemed to display only as much as he wanted to, as much as he wanted you to see and know.
I chatted with him on the internet a few days back and got to know that he is married now, and after working for about four years in India, is currently completing his PhD from the USA.
Shameek Sharma, the Surd, the epitome that defined the phrase "happy-go-lucky" to me for a long time, he was one of those who probably changed more in the course of those two years at school than anyone else, even me. The day he came in, he was accompanied by parents and a whole lot of books. While the rest of us were just looking at the place and making things sink in, he seemed to have already got a head start that even the seasoned Dipanjan seemed to be surprised at. Dismissed initially as a book worm, Shameek came back strongly to become one of the craziest people I have been around.
I have been witness to his status updates on facebook but am completely clueless about his whereabouts nevertheless. Again someone I haven't met after school, his contact details can be found out without much difficulty but I haven't really done anything about it.
Ajit Bhaiya, closest in terms of background to me, he came from a small town in Bihar, born to middle class parents, soft spoken to a fault and even stammering at times, with a physique that had nothing to write home about...Ajit or Bhaiya, as we used to call him was always playing the downtrodden. Ajit was brilliant, almost a genius when he did come to apply his mind, which unfortunately did not happen too frequently. He was amazing at physics and my savior a number of times when I had frustratingly little clue about what was happening in the middle of all those levers and pulleys. Being close to Snehesh was the common link between us and even though we were never really very close to each other, we did spend a lot of time together at school.
I came to know from Mudit while chatting with him the other day about the tough times he has had ever since he left school and the fact that he is currently back in his home town, doing tuitions in Physics, the subject he liked the most. I had last chatted with him on the internet some 5-6 years back and have had no personal contact with him ever since.
Kaushik Kishore, part of the room 9 and a half (we were the nine 9's, of course) was from Patna and to put it kindly, pretty raw, significantly less raw as compared to me but raw, nevertheless. An ardent procrastinator, Kaushik was one of those who you would like almost instantaneously. Prone to agreeing to whatever someone said, he was hardly the types who would get into an argument. Laid back and relaxed, the only thing that ruffled his feathers was the specter of studies, about which he seemed to be pretty fussed.
I found him on one of the social networking sites a few weeks back and pinged him to get a moderately welcoming mail in reply. I did not really follow up and am still as clueless about his whereabouts as I was before the communication that I started.
Shivam Bansal, another 9 and a half, son of a businessman, used to the luxuries of life but not spoilt at all, not exposed to the tenets of the modern world of rock "and all", Shivam, popularly called Bansi, hailed from the temple town of Varanasi where his father had a going business. I remember Shivam as keeping pretty much to himself but having the most cordial of relations with almost everyone. He was not one to bring the roof down with his own antics but was definitely not a spoil sport when in the middle of things that shook the world.
I have absolutely no clue of where he is after graduating from IIT Delhi. Not to be found on any social networking site either, he has literally vanished from the earth ever since I last met him at school.
There were so may others that keep coming to mind as I write all this and it is so difficult to write about all of them for want of space and time. There were, of course, my room-mates from the second year, the brilliant and accommodating Saurabh Siddharth, and the extremely cheerful and nice guy, Animesh Agwarwal. There were others I used to spend reasonable time with...the mousily-active Shyam Agarwal, the genius, singing-songs-in-the-reverse Keshav Kunal, the soft-spoken giant Ashwani, the brash and super intelligent Abhisheks (mota and patla), the eternal fighter Sandeep Jaiswal, the good looking to-be-doc Ishtiyaque Hussain, the dapper joker Sachin Talwar, the heart-of-gold-image-carrying Nikhil Singla, the crazy genius Manish Jalan, the seniors and the juniors...the list appears to be endless.
And then there were the girls, very few of them I actually came to know first hand...the long haired shy singer Aparna Sharma, the fiery though diminutive Deepanvita Upadhyay, the bold and beautiful Mayuri Khanna, the short and sweet Supriya Goswami, the hot and happening Shruti Nayan (not from our batch but who cared!).
The list and the memories can just go on and on but this will have to do for today's quota of nostalgia. I just hope that despite the changing nature of life, I can get back to those glorious days, if only in my memories of people associated with them. Better still, won't it be great to be sitting together with some of them in some familiar cafe, sipping a cup of coffee and refreshing our collective memories?
And then I met this hostel mate of mine, who I was reasonably close to, at the airport this weekend. Both of us were coming back from weddings of people both of us knew, just that I went to one and he to the other. Seeing him there brought back so many memories, what with the recent remembrance that other wedding had initiated. I was, however, shocked at myself, especially with the lame enthusiasm that I greeted him with. Instead of meeting like long lost buddies, we met like strangers, some bit of it may be attributable to the insanely early hours of the day at which we met.
I was also chatting on the internet a couple of days before this weekend meeting with another hostel mate of mine and he seemed pretty disillusioned as well. Keeping in touch is so easy yet so difficult. Life moves on and so do circles of friends but both of us agreed that it is up to an individual to pick and choose who or what they want to retain out of the different phases of life. Retention of friends for good is so much a personal trait rather than being explained by any amount of providence or even the age old excuse of lack of time.
Having felt and said all this, I just thought of putting my thoughts together and go back in time some 12-13 years back (how time flies!!!) and write about the people who mattered probably the most in that period and what I have left of those associations now. So here goes, this one dedicated to DPS RKP, my alma mater and all things/people related to it:
Arnav Hazarika Som, extremely popular with girls, the rock-listening, guitar-playing variety...compete antithesis of what I was at that point in time. And yet we became close, close enough to share a bed (two single beds joined together, don't get any ideas!) in a room of nine people (yes, we had nine people in one room!). I learnt a lot from Arnav (or Ronnie as was his nick name) and I looked up to him, wanting to be like him some day. It was only much later when I met him during my MBA summers stint in Kolkata that I could see myself as coming anywhere close to it.
I met him last at the Delhi airport just a few days ago and though I always knew that he was in Mumbai, I could never really initiate any contact. He is now in the private equity arm of a Times Group company and from what I could gather, doing well for himself.
Shivanu Kohli, the quintessential serious and shy guy who would work really hard and not party at all. He was actually a contrasting personality, outwardly silent and yet innately loud and extremely vocal. From a reasonably large town in Haryana, he had the famous Jat temper but displayed it very rarely. Butt of our jokes for the way he looked, he never complained, at least not initially. As we became more comfortable with each other's company, he did use to flare up at times but as I said, it was once in a blue moon. Very serious about IIT entrance preparations, he was the one who gave me the news of my selection and was rather short when I hinted that probably he did not read my rank correctly, especially when he had the misfortune of not being selected at all.
I met him last at the MBA entrance group discussion for SP Jain Institute which was about 5 years back. I later came to know that he had taken up a job at Coke post his MBA from SP Jain but I have no clue where he currently is.
Dipanjan Das, the suave, boarding school old-timer, with lean, chocolate boyish looks, the perfect gentleman that girls would love to take to their parents, someone who could naturally converse in a language and of matters that were still alien to me. Dipanjan was almost always soft spoken and the last of participants in any kind of revelry that we may end up in. He almost seemed to look at us in amusement as we started to rejoice the hostel life and freedom associated with it, having already been there and done that. Teased no end for his alleged flings with the fairer sex, he could be the perfect display of grace and yet the right amount of silent anger that is capable of putting others to shame and silence.
Last I knew (through social networking sites), he had completed his MBA and was with GE. I have not really interacted with him even once after school and I am not sure if I will get to, in the near future.
Snehesh Mitra, the closest of all my friends in school, he was the boisterous Bengali having stayed his life in Bhagalpur in Bihar. Loud and vivacious, handsome and good looking, and yet a little elephant footed when it came to girls, very impulsive and emotional, not too keen on working so hard as to spoil whatever fun there was to be had, Snehesh was very likeable, at least to me. We literally hanged out together, separated only for the classes in the morning (we were in different sections). I could be very comfortable in Snehesh's company and I guess he did not mind mine either.
I would have met him last about a year after school when he was in Delhi preparing for IIT entrance exams and I was there for some administrative work at the CBSE office. I know (again from social networking sites) that he is married and working for a start-up in Bangalore. Even though I have his email id and probably even his contact number, I haven't really been able to re-initiate anything.
Sumit Kumar Jain, another Bhagalpuriah, but as different from Snehesh as chalk is from cheese. Very confident and assertive, except from some sort of complex that he seemed to have on account of his height, Sumit was one smart cookie. The perfect all rounder, he could score in academics, speak and act passionately, look good and charm girls, the works. I did not really kick it off with Sumit but we were still very cordial with each other and when it came to having fun at the expense of others, neither of us were found wanting. Always willing to rock the party, Sumit could be relied upon for the lighter moments but may perhaps not have been as much of a partner when things went wrong for me.
Last I spoke to him was through a social netwroking site when I pinged him out of the blue and got an encouraging reply in return. Nothing happened after that and the last I know, he graduated from IIM Calcutta and was working with HSBC, first in Mumbai, and then somewhere in the Middle East.
Mudit Bhargava, the guy who impressed my uncle the first day he came to drop me off at the hostel, very organized, diligent, and a shining role model for those in our age group...the sort of person who comes across as well read, a thinker who can act without delays, someone who knew how to manage time between whiling it away and utilizing it wisely. Mudit was another person I used to look up to and even be in awe of. Hailing from the snow covered hills of Simla, he fluctuated from being extremely warm to even cold at times. I never really was able to figure him out completely because he seemed to display only as much as he wanted to, as much as he wanted you to see and know.
I chatted with him on the internet a few days back and got to know that he is married now, and after working for about four years in India, is currently completing his PhD from the USA.
Shameek Sharma, the Surd, the epitome that defined the phrase "happy-go-lucky" to me for a long time, he was one of those who probably changed more in the course of those two years at school than anyone else, even me. The day he came in, he was accompanied by parents and a whole lot of books. While the rest of us were just looking at the place and making things sink in, he seemed to have already got a head start that even the seasoned Dipanjan seemed to be surprised at. Dismissed initially as a book worm, Shameek came back strongly to become one of the craziest people I have been around.
I have been witness to his status updates on facebook but am completely clueless about his whereabouts nevertheless. Again someone I haven't met after school, his contact details can be found out without much difficulty but I haven't really done anything about it.
Ajit Bhaiya, closest in terms of background to me, he came from a small town in Bihar, born to middle class parents, soft spoken to a fault and even stammering at times, with a physique that had nothing to write home about...Ajit or Bhaiya, as we used to call him was always playing the downtrodden. Ajit was brilliant, almost a genius when he did come to apply his mind, which unfortunately did not happen too frequently. He was amazing at physics and my savior a number of times when I had frustratingly little clue about what was happening in the middle of all those levers and pulleys. Being close to Snehesh was the common link between us and even though we were never really very close to each other, we did spend a lot of time together at school.
I came to know from Mudit while chatting with him the other day about the tough times he has had ever since he left school and the fact that he is currently back in his home town, doing tuitions in Physics, the subject he liked the most. I had last chatted with him on the internet some 5-6 years back and have had no personal contact with him ever since.
Kaushik Kishore, part of the room 9 and a half (we were the nine 9's, of course) was from Patna and to put it kindly, pretty raw, significantly less raw as compared to me but raw, nevertheless. An ardent procrastinator, Kaushik was one of those who you would like almost instantaneously. Prone to agreeing to whatever someone said, he was hardly the types who would get into an argument. Laid back and relaxed, the only thing that ruffled his feathers was the specter of studies, about which he seemed to be pretty fussed.
I found him on one of the social networking sites a few weeks back and pinged him to get a moderately welcoming mail in reply. I did not really follow up and am still as clueless about his whereabouts as I was before the communication that I started.
Shivam Bansal, another 9 and a half, son of a businessman, used to the luxuries of life but not spoilt at all, not exposed to the tenets of the modern world of rock "and all", Shivam, popularly called Bansi, hailed from the temple town of Varanasi where his father had a going business. I remember Shivam as keeping pretty much to himself but having the most cordial of relations with almost everyone. He was not one to bring the roof down with his own antics but was definitely not a spoil sport when in the middle of things that shook the world.
I have absolutely no clue of where he is after graduating from IIT Delhi. Not to be found on any social networking site either, he has literally vanished from the earth ever since I last met him at school.
There were so may others that keep coming to mind as I write all this and it is so difficult to write about all of them for want of space and time. There were, of course, my room-mates from the second year, the brilliant and accommodating Saurabh Siddharth, and the extremely cheerful and nice guy, Animesh Agwarwal. There were others I used to spend reasonable time with...the mousily-active Shyam Agarwal, the genius, singing-songs-in-the-reverse Keshav Kunal, the soft-spoken giant Ashwani, the brash and super intelligent Abhisheks (mota and patla), the eternal fighter Sandeep Jaiswal, the good looking to-be-doc Ishtiyaque Hussain, the dapper joker Sachin Talwar, the heart-of-gold-image-carrying Nikhil Singla, the crazy genius Manish Jalan, the seniors and the juniors...the list appears to be endless.
And then there were the girls, very few of them I actually came to know first hand...the long haired shy singer Aparna Sharma, the fiery though diminutive Deepanvita Upadhyay, the bold and beautiful Mayuri Khanna, the short and sweet Supriya Goswami, the hot and happening Shruti Nayan (not from our batch but who cared!).
The list and the memories can just go on and on but this will have to do for today's quota of nostalgia. I just hope that despite the changing nature of life, I can get back to those glorious days, if only in my memories of people associated with them. Better still, won't it be great to be sitting together with some of them in some familiar cafe, sipping a cup of coffee and refreshing our collective memories?
Monday, November 30, 2009
Just another update
I recently attended a friend's wedding in Kolkata. I intended to write a tome describing the events around the wedding but petered down upon realizing that although these events deserve recounting, things may turn out to be a little uncomfortable for some, including me if I did go through with the idea.
Amongst other things, one year is behind the day Mumbai (and to a less extent, I) faced one of the most horrifying and terrible nights. The night of 26/11, as it is fashionably called by the press and the Mumbai glitterati, will remain etched for quite some time in my mind, as it would in the minds of many others who were directly or indirectly affected by the events of that ominous night. I can only wish and pray that those affected get the strength of spirit to go through whatever they have been forced to go through.
There is a new chapter at work and I am supposedly heading a new vertical that has been set up to analyze client investment portfolios. Christened Investment Analytics, the team is responsible for marrying the generic research and product recommendations that is generated by the Products & Research Team with the client specific requirements provided by the Relationship Management Team. Typically, this role is performed by the Investment Advisory practice in most of the global private banks but the work is not as appealing here. As it has turned out, most of the work is aimed at assisting what would have been an investment advisory practice. Going forward, the practice may become bigger and closer to the Investment Advisory kind of a vertical and the responsibility to make that happen, scarily enough, lies on me.
I have been having a good time generally over the last few months with busy weeks and busier weekends. Movies, plays, meeting family and friends, going out-station for weddings...I have had some really nice time recently. I only hope that the run continues and I do not slip into one of those pseudo-depressions that I have the habit of doing.
Amongst other things, one year is behind the day Mumbai (and to a less extent, I) faced one of the most horrifying and terrible nights. The night of 26/11, as it is fashionably called by the press and the Mumbai glitterati, will remain etched for quite some time in my mind, as it would in the minds of many others who were directly or indirectly affected by the events of that ominous night. I can only wish and pray that those affected get the strength of spirit to go through whatever they have been forced to go through.
There is a new chapter at work and I am supposedly heading a new vertical that has been set up to analyze client investment portfolios. Christened Investment Analytics, the team is responsible for marrying the generic research and product recommendations that is generated by the Products & Research Team with the client specific requirements provided by the Relationship Management Team. Typically, this role is performed by the Investment Advisory practice in most of the global private banks but the work is not as appealing here. As it has turned out, most of the work is aimed at assisting what would have been an investment advisory practice. Going forward, the practice may become bigger and closer to the Investment Advisory kind of a vertical and the responsibility to make that happen, scarily enough, lies on me.
I have been having a good time generally over the last few months with busy weeks and busier weekends. Movies, plays, meeting family and friends, going out-station for weddings...I have had some really nice time recently. I only hope that the run continues and I do not slip into one of those pseudo-depressions that I have the habit of doing.
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