A trek to remember: The teaser

I found a secluded spot on the summit. I sat down in awe of the beauty and grandeur around me. I removed my shoes and socks in respect for the mountains which had allowed me to be there on that day at that particular moment. I opened my eyes wide to take in as much of the nature as I could. And suddenly my heart beat increased. It wasn't due to the exertion for I had prepared well. I felt a drop leave my eye. And before I could understand, my eyes filled up. And then what happened took me by surprise. Tears rolled down my eyes like some floodgates had been opened. I didn't understand what was happening to me. I was sobbing like a small kid. Thankfully I had my sunglasses for I didn't want anyone to know anything because I had no explanation for it. It just happened and then suddenly everything went calm. I sat still, soaking in and wondering at the same time. Was it tears of joy or was it some pent up emotions. Was I overwhelmed with the majestic mountains that stood around me or was it the vast endless meadows that made everything else so insignificant? Or was it my journey from being a fat lazy 34 year old to successfully summiting my first ever trek climb? I do not yet have all the answers. But I do know that in that moment, I felt my entire being. I felt both significant and insignificant at the same time. For a second, my entire life flashed in front of my eyes and then I forgot about everything and everyone else. I was just there breathing and my heart beating. I knew, at this time, in this moment, on this particular rock, I was meant to be. It wasn't my plan. It was as if all of my life; I had been slowly inching towards being here. It was the most beautiful moment of the most beautiful day of my life. I finally had begun to understand myself. I truly felt a connection with myself and my surroundings. I wasn't anymore a zombie like I often am. I wasn't the practical and diplomatic me. For the first time, in many, many years, I felt excited and calm all at the same time. I was both happy and sad. I felt a multitude of emotions which I thought were long dead within me. I felt alive. I knew I had changed for good. And I knew it wasn't the climax. The journey had just begun. 

I wasn't on the summit of a large mountain peak. I wasn't even on the summit of a tough trek. I was at 12000 feet of a relatively easy but beautiful trek. We call it Dayara Bugyal.   We all have our own Everest to climb. For the time, this was my Everest. It took a lot of resolve and hard work. The preparation took me out of my comfort zone. The injuries made me question my decision. The insecurities made me give up a couple of times. But in the end, my love for nature and mountains in particular, triumphed. And as I sit here back in my office, I can only thank my stars that I was able to see what I saw. That, I was able to feel what I felt. That,  I was able to experience what I experienced. And that I am one of those very few who caught such a lucky break on their first ever trek. Wide expanse of snow, beautiful crisp mountain views, charming forest trails, blooming flowers, beautiful weather and a group of amazing trek mates.

Our journey started with all of us assembling at our pick up point. We were unaware of the treat we were in for. We didn’t expect the strangers sitting around us to turn into really good friends in a short span of 96 hours. Some of us had already formed our bonds by the time we reached our base camp in Raithal. Solo trekkers didn’t feel solo anymore. The groups amalgamated and no one could make out who came with whom. While some enjoyed the chilly weather, a few dreaded the idea of -5 degrees. Some came for the photographs, while some to challenge themselves. Everyone had different expectations from the trek, but what was common was our love for the mountains. I never expected so much of variety and commonality at the same time. We were a group that had teenagers, students, professionals and businessmen. We were a group of crazy friends, solo treker, families, cousins, and even a father son duo. We were all from the west, the east, the north and the south. We were all so seemingly different and yet so similar. We didn’t know that the next ninety six hours were going to be so much fun and at the same time will change us for good. It ended up being so much more than that. Those 4 days took us through the very best of what nature had to offer. We got to see the most beautiful sights of our life. We got to drink the freshest water and the tastiest food. We saw the night sky in it full glory with millions of stars which is impossible in a city. We saw not one, not two but three shooting stars. We experienced snowfall, rainfall and hailstorm all within 2 hours of a single day. We got to see the beautiful snow capped peaks from up close while we walked on the beautiful green meadows. We made our own path as we walked on knee deep snow and then slid on the fresh snow while coming down. It tested our resolve and then woke up the child within us. The kids showed maturity while the adults relived their childhood. We all ended up being there for each other when it matter the most. The mountains brought out the very best in us and made us realize how significant and insignificant we are at the same time.

We- D poor people of the Corporate World

A few days back, while I was talking to a friend of mine, we actually ended up talking some real stuff after we were done with our weekly updates of the gossips and usual inconsequential conversations. It has been quite some time I left my job and partially joined my business apart from a little academic pursuit along the way. But I still do remember my first few conversations in my hometown with a plethora of acquaintances and total strangers who often enquired about my job for a number of reasons both genuine and devious. Well more about their intentions and ingenuity sometime later.

Statements, such as, “A man is worth only his pay check” is nothing new. It has been actively been the epicentre of a lot of decisions people make right from choosing or leaving a job, venturing into business and even while choosing their partners. But what makes it a topic to talk about is how the conversation folds up in a usual middle class family in a rural or a semi urban setting and occasionally even in the urban settings. Probably, it would be a lot easier to go by classification of the mindset, attitude and mental horizon of the people than a geographical distinction. As I write this, I get a feeling that I should have written this at least 10 months back. It would have been much more recent and relevant then. However, in those days, I was way too occupied handling my crushes and one sided affairs. :D Damn. I can be hard on myself sometimes! But still I will write it now. (Will try to keep my ramblings short enough)

For the time being, let me go back to July’2010 for ease of including myself in the collective group with whom I still can connect and feel the emotional turmoil and so that I can take the liberty to write in the present tense. I call myself and all my bunch of friends who completed MBA last year as the “Poor people of the corporate world.” It is not just because most of us do not pay tax @ 30%. But also because we face the entire hardships one could in this mean selfish world where people climb up the ladders of success on the corpses of others. Well, fortunately, as of now we aren’t really the corpse, so no need to panic. But we are damn well poor.

We are made to slog for long hours and our skill sets are exploited to the extreme. And in return all we get is a salary which gets exhausted in no time. We can’t even afford a simple furnished 2BHK in a decent area like Bandra or its counterparts in other cities. And if we dare to do, we end up losing more than 33% of what we get as underpaid people. I still can’t afford a car. Who would pay my EMIs and the parking charge? (Delhites are lucky here. They park it on the road itself! ). I am forced to be crushed in the maddening crowd of the locals with all kinds of people (who stink) and the unbridled homosexuals with their new found freedom. (No offence to any of them. I sincerely respect your choice, but strictly abhor any non consensual act of seeking pleasure taking undue advantage of the crowd.) I say this because some of my poor, innocent friends were taken for a ride. (Again delhites are lucky to have a metro equipped with an A/c!!!). I won’t even get to the chances of having your dream girl with this kind of poverty. To add to it, when we go home, the people (acquaintance and the strangers) give a damn about your work quality. In some cases they do not even know the name of the company or the designation and work profile. (If you do not believe, try becoming an Insurance Broker in an MNC: P ) So much for running after a particular kind of profile! What hurts even more is, we wasted our precious time trying to understand the intricacies of corporate finance, derivatives and corporate strategy. I could have very well spent that sitting on the marine drive or riding in Leh and Laddhak. (Do not know much about the marketing people. They certainly had a relatively better life. Atleast my roomie never had to go through a 200 page book.) And this doesn’t end here. Some of my friends continue to inflict pain upon them by sacrificing that little hard earned money for another degree, innocently believing that it would make their life any easier. And here I am, pouring out all my blocked emotions here while I try to chase my own set of dreams by putting a complete end to even that small amount I used to get on every 26^th of the month. True. Poverty and Unemployment are a part of a vicious circle and they take away all the wits you initially had.

P.S.: No offence to anyone! It was a fictional narration. Any resemblance to anyone living is purely coincidental and unintentional ;)

We all are very happy people J

The Balcony Cricket !

Monday is most often the most difficult day to do anything, be it work or study. To add to it, a relatively pleasant summer evening is just not worth to be wasted on something boring and serious. So, as an addictive observer, I was as usual gazing outside my window. If I would have been in my hometown, I would have probably got a view of the entire sky, clouds, birds and even the dusty roads. But, when you are in a city, all you get to see from the ground floor is the balcony(s) of the opposite building. And, honestly, it isn’t that bad, for on lucky days, you get to see some really beautiful girls in their hot pants! But today wasn’t one of those days. All I could see was a bunch of over enthusiastic kids playing “Balcony Cricket.”

Well, I am not sure if there is such a term, but basically we all have played it without a doubt. It is probably a very prevalent form of cricket which you play incase you do not have access to a playground or, when you are domesticated on a hot summer afternoon, or when the parents are too protective to let you go wander with the not so polite older kids of the colony who have their areas demarcated.

But do not be under an impression of this being a simplified form of cricket. It is not. Rather, if I recall correctly, there is an entire set of exotic rules and regulations governing the game and on some days it garners so much of enthusiasm that the only way the game ends is when you lose all your Cosco/Plastic balls or end up breaking some window panes and then being punished.

The charm of batting first is inherent in us, be it the Team India or the kids in colony. But to decide the order we had devised our own ways. The kinds in the balcony here played a round of Rock, Paper& Scissor to come to a conclusion. And of course, hitting a window or losing the ball was always considered ”out” and so was hitting the ball on the roadside, if you are playing on the terrace. The worst was one tip one hand where I used to disappoint myself every time. But then, being a pathetic bowler as well, i got quite a lot of wickets as the kid on the other end could never not end up hitting a six.(Which invariably landed on the window panes or the roadside :P ). Needless to say that the one who owned the bat did exercise some special privileges. It used to be a game open to all ages though we did discriminate on the basis of gender and there used to be a strict “no entry” for girls. After all who wanted trouble if they get hit and start shedding bucket full of tears. However as we grew a little smarter, they were always welcome in host of other sports. All said and done, it always was a time of fun during those summer vacations, except for times when everyone used to fight like cats and dogs and then not talk for atleast a day or two. While I was drifting among those days, I heard this strong appeal for LBW across the window. And I though, we certainly didn’t appeal LBW in our times. Probably, they want to keep it more real and entertaining !!!

Reminiscing with Water Balloons

Today, as I was walking back to my room, I got hit. And not once or twice, but it felt like there was an entire platoon of army kids waiting for the vulnerable, unarmed and unguarded people like me who walk lost in their own thoughts unaware of the surroundings. And it was only after the almost after being hit almost 5 to 6 times totally drenched and yes in a little pain as well, that I realized that Holi is just round the corner. For all those who have not really experienced it, please do not be fooled by the size of the balloons which appear to be small and harmless. Even the kids throwing them are small and mostly cute little Punjabis. But the balloons and the kids happen to be way too smart and certainly not harmless. I literally ran, saving myself from the other planned attacks and everytime they missed, I was so damn elated. After all I still could manoeuvre and save myself from those little goons. J

As I reached my flat safe and sound, I couldn’t help but remember those graduation days. As a matter of fact, it is not the kids alone who are into this tactical balloon game. Even the adults enjoy it as much as these kids, only under the camouflage of those innocent faces of their kids. The 3 lovely kids, staying right opposite to me are a little lazier than the others. They do not take the pains of filling in the balloons and so use a Pichkari instead. After all its much more efficient when it comes to wetting people. And surprisingly, they have a strict code of conduct as well! I heard the eldest among them scolding his younger brother when he tried to wet a man on the scooter. The only ones they target are the people on foot or on rickshaw for they are safe.

I couldn’t help but smile, for we had our own code of conduct. No balloons to be wasted on Men. Not even a single one. I was a blessed soul to have a flat, 3 sides of which had girls hostel. And I need not say anything about the DU girls for it would take me away into some dreamland... Almost 10 days before the real Holi, a lot of us used to gather at my or friends place with hundred of balloons. Those with not so good target practise were made to fill them while rest of us had one sole objective. To wet as many beautiful hostel girls as we could! Hitting men and those on vehicles was a strictly prohibited. And just like all the platoons needed a safeguard as well, we too had ours. After all, none of us want to be caught by the Delhi Police. So there stood 2 female friends for no one really bothered to complain when they look at girls standing and laughing on the top floor with balloons in their hands. And the best part was, the girls rarely used to mind, except a few weird ones who always had a reason to crib and complain. After all they never spared us when we strolled down their hostel. And we never complained either. J I guess, some things never do change.

---Sriram

Arranged M&A..Oops..I meant marriage!

Coming from a joint family with a really huge base of relatives all scattered around in the vicinity offers far too many advantages. As kids, we had our own gang which was so high in number that, the elders feared all of us coming together at one place in one time. A reckless gang, where the age difference was as large as 10 years. We have played hide and seek and every single board game be it a ludo or a business or a monopoly. And we played cricket in all the seasons and times of day and night, including the indoor cricket where hitting the tube light was considered as “out”.

Time flies and today most of them who were elder to me are married or on the verge of getting so. Coming to the point of marriage, they all have been very true to what was expected of them. Each and single soul went through the process of “arranged marriage”. All my hopes of having someone in my family who would do a love marriage were belied every single time. Never mind. Now, if they couldn’t find one for themselves, I am not really the right person to blame them. After all people living in glass house shouldn’t be throwing stones at others.

But what has always amused me is the entire long process of arranged marriage which is no less than a Corporate M&A. Well don’t raise your eyebrows. I am not exaggerating.

The above pictorial representation is taken from one of the many ordeals of slides we went through during the MBA days. It all starts with a strategic plan where the elder decides that its time the protagonist gets married. This could be due to reasons across all the aspects. Crossing the threshold age or completing a post graduate degree is the simplest of the reasons. It could also be if the eldest member wants to see a grandchild or great grandchild or even in situations when suddenly people realize they didn’t have a marriage for quite so many years ( 5 or more) and now it is time to have some party and reunion with all the kiths and kin.

Once it is approved and the would-be bride or groom is informed about the same, the elders try to show their flexibility and liberal nature by asking if the protagonist has someone in life. The questions are not supposed to be taken in a literal manner. Its only accepted answer, is “No, I am fine with whoever you think is suitable for me.”

I have seen families using the matrimonial sites, but I guess, in a tier 2 and 3 cities, even that isn’t required. The elders (possibly the most connected one) only need to put a word in the community and the message travels far and wide about the intentions of a possible merger..oops a marriage alliance. A number of proposals come along the quality and quantity depending upon the protagonist as well as the family. (Read company and group company/promoters). Every application is studied and a proper due diligence is performed by both the parties which involves interaction with protagonist and a general survey of the past track records known it the market and close friends. A set of possible targets are identified and the deal is sealed based on parameters like financial stability, cultural similarities, possible synergies and of course the not so official factors like the amount of peer pressure and miscellaneous “financial transactions.” Not to forget, the valuation done is a matter of subjectivity and is based on the information both public and private acquired through both reliable and unreliable sources. The model encompasses a detailed list of factors and its correlation with the final number which could contain 6 to 8 zeroes. But then as we all know, at the end of the day, it is just a call one needs to take and pray that its close enough to the reality.

Once all of this is in place, it’s time for the execution and here it is the ability of the two parties to manage their expenses and time frame as any deviation or extension in the timelines could make the entire deal fall through. All this while, the 2 nominal central characters are allowed to interact; not to decide but just to be prepared for what is going to come ahead.

Finally the deal... I mean the marriage takes place and its success is measured by parameters quite varying in nature. After the cultural and financial synergies are formed, one might expect to have some harmonious relationship between the two people. And yeah, at most places the parent companies have pretty short horizon and the profitability of deal might even be judged by how soon the small companies are born. 3 years without the entry of new member and you will get to hear every possible ridiculous/hilarious explanation for the same. Well, I think I should just stop now or else if this piece fall into the wrong hands, a deal in the distant future might not all together take place...

---Sriram

Amidst the Mist...

Four souls walked on the road and all they could see was a dense white mist all around them. Walk 5 steps ahead and you are invisible to the people behind. The lights from the dipper of the vehicles acted both as a relief and horror with the moving dark shadows in the dim light. Be it my ex-roomie or my current, both did get scared at some moments; yet we continued to walk along, enjoying the exotic beauty just because we happened to be at the right place at the right time. Without any exaggerations of any kind, I must say it was one of the most beautiful and mystic sight we had all around us with the cool breeze sending a chill down our spine. It was a perfect moment. A perfect moment to have a Hukkah, a glass of whisky and a cup of tea. (not to forget the kanda bhajia).

As the smoke from the Hukka and mist amalgamated and created an all together different ambience for us in an otherwise a very usual place and the moonlight tried to pierce down the whiteness in the dark night, we laughed and shared talking the sensibilities and unusualness in an otherwise non sensible and common talks of life. Swinging between the past and future, we oscillated from dreams to memoires, punctuated with the small fights, claiming our turn for the hukka. . All four of us had a great time. I guess one of the most intense conversations we ever had together which we all would remember for a long time.

The next day we all went for the usual points where people gather, gaze and click to carry back the memoirs back to home. And while we were coming back, there was a peace of mind and a sense of happiness to have spent such amazing times together with my closest friends.

Without a doubt, it was one of my best weekends in Mumbai!!!

--- Sriram

Delhi Metro vs the Mumbai Locals

I had been hearing about the so called rapid changes in the infrastructure of New Delhi for quite some time now. Finally I got to spend my last weekend in the city which made me fall in love with it on the very first day that dates back to 14th July 2005. I have always been in love with this city and I still don’t really know the precise reason, nor do I have any idea for my disinterest in a city like Mumbai which attracts a huge population in the country.

Well I don’t intend to start comparing the two cities because I have my own biases. However, right now while I sit in the Rajdhani express with 5 more people who are in their late 70s enjoying their game of cards and with having made quite a lot of commuting in the Delhi Metro, I couldn’t help contrasting it with the Mumbai Locals.

First thing to notice in the Delhi Metro would be the usage of a popular electronic equipment, which basically lowers the overall temperature and avoids unwanted sweating (People call it AC). Life there does look beyond a “Vada Paav.” Earlier, when i used to travel by metro back in my graduation days, I hated all those people who seemed professional with their clothing, but pushed like maniacs to enter the evening train to Kashmiri gate. Well, this time all those people seemed so much friendlier and with heightened civic sense. After being pushed and crushed in the Mumabi locals, any damn fellow traveller in trains in any part of India would seem friendly. Even the ones in Gaya and some interior parts of Bihar, where somehow 8 people manage to sit in a place meant for a maximum of 4 people. Infact, I just remembered that the Delhi Metro doesn’t even discriminate like here in Mumbai. There’s no first or a second class. At some level, I highly appreciate that, especially after seeing how rude and arrogant people can get here in the locals if a person with an appearance of the so called second class accidentally enters the first class.

But my personal favourite about the Delhi metro is that the worst which can happen is to be forced to smell the mixture of different deodorants. Compare it to a heterogeneous mixture of the body odour which one has to experience in the Mumabi locals. And not to forget the pretty sight of beautiful creations of the almighty which you get to see in the metro and which is almost next to impossible in the locals.

No offence to the Kolkata Metro. I have travelled just once when I was a small kid. I have no memories except that the highest fare of Kolkata is lower than the lowest fare in Delhi. Anyways, Kolkata is better suited when we talk about the Bandhs, the Indian culture and the related stuff. Infrastructure is a far cry.

But I guess, now that I am back to Mumbai, life is back on the speed tracks of the locals. In Mumbai, it sometimes takes an entire lifetime for people to move to the fast tracks from the slow ones. (Copied from some bollywood flick). Hopefully I will be able to take it to a track which will take me to places I dream to reach...

---Sriram

Side Effects of being an Analyst- Part 1

As I sit here in my flat on a Saturday afternoon, I find myself oscillating between the state of being completely disengaged to almost getting churned out in the mix of my thoughts. It’s finally the end of yet another supposedly eventful month with absolutely no head turning events.

From someone who slept only after the sun rose and interacted on almost all the online social medium possible, I have been reduced to an “Early to bed and early to rise routine.”

How unexpected and undesirable of me to sleep at 12 midnight and wake up by 6:30 a.m. This isn’t the day I had lived to see after spending 2 glorious years at SIMSR Hostel where life begun after the 10:30 p.m. whistle by those agonising guards.

My average time on useful internet services (Gmail, ymail, fb, orkut, twitter etc.) has suddenly witnessed a steep downward sloping curve with a bleak outlook on any expected rise in the near future. Such has been the magnitude of change in the landscape of my lifestyle that I have begun to see myself as an entirely different individual who has lost all his basic values he imbibed in the hostel.

It’s been more than a month I didn’t feel hungry at 2 am looking for something to gobble, which I now understand, was the primary driving force behind my sound health and fitness inspite of the nightmarish food we were forced to have.

Only I can understand and feel the unendurable pain and agony of having a 1gbps internet connection with no facility of even an IP messenger chat. I accept that there isn’t any soul in office which could act as a slight incentive to have the facility, yet the very absence of it leaves my heart damaged beyond repairs. (Oh I so much miss those multicasts which I so hated then.)

The joy of reading and sharing the Economic Times in bits and pieces in the middle of class has suddenly vanished as I find myself sitting with a copy of Business Standard and a cup of coffee in the comfortable couch in my office.

After all the unlimited usage of the 3 most important keys of one’s laptop ( Ctrl, C, V) in preparing the supposedly best reports on the state of economy, industry and companies, I am terrorised to even think about the fate of the banks, and the entire industry and the poor unaware companies when they would most probably formulate their lending and business strategies taking a lot of inspiration from the outlook and dynamics of the industry which I will be preparing in due course of time. My heart goes out for them. God, Bless those poor soul, for they are unaware and unknown of the dangerous roads they are about to travel. But, on second thoughts I think, I am not the only one. They have survived earlier and I believe they still will because even a wrong information, if is believed and used by everyone, acts like the universal truth. SO I guess, I won’t have to bear the burden of the entire economy anymore.

And as I look at my earlier posts, I just can’t believe my own eyes. It seems like all my deep emotions have almost died and have been replaced by my sane thoughts. I still can’t understand how I let this happen to me.

I don’t know if this is a universal phenomena and whether my friends too are facing the same wrath of this undesirably noble transformation. Only they could throw some light on this.

For what I know, it is all a beginning to what I feel is “The life of a Research Analyst” or “Side effects of being an Analyst.” For the first time, I cant even think of an apt titlte.

Whatever, it may be I promise you all to come out of this soon J

---Sriram

The Last Post !!!

As I sit here spending my last few hours @ Simsr Hostel, I see the images of last the last 22 months which is a saga in itself. Life has undergone a metamorphosis beyond imagination and it has been a pleasant one. From a 21 year old Economics graduate, I am now a 23 year old MBA(Finance). Wola... Sounds pretty heavy or melodramatic or may be just a fact free from any frauds. But this isn’t the change I was talking about. Someone said, life is not about the destination you reach but the journey you embark upon. Simsr hasn’t been just about the degree or the job or a soulmate. It has been a lot more vivid with a spread like that of a vast unending sea we see across the horizon.

It was only 16^th June 2008, when we all came from across the country and backgrounds with striking contrasts and today when we leave we have more than one thing in common. Its impossible for me to narrate a journey where each day has been so eventful in its own way. From religiously reading the first HBR articles to possessing laptops where the 3 most crucial keypads (Ctrl, C, V) have lost their mark, we have been through times where 30 people gather in a single room to study accounts and another 35 to watch a movie like Deshdrohi in the common area. I met people who are willing to teach the same stuff over and over again to every single person without any self interest to people multicasting 30 minutes before exam to have a CS match for “just 15 minutes.” I met people who yell after each exams to someone who got special rights to present vote of thanks at every possible occasion because of their unsurpassable communication skills. I got an honor to be good friends with one of the most respectable and honourable guy with whose name people even attached a G and share my room with both the marketing and the financial prodigies. It was a place where I saw commitments levels at both ends. A class which has the best sports persons who have made SIMSR proud more than once and mindblowing dancers and models who can set any stage on fire. It has been a place where I met the biggest pranksters and gossipmongers (in the best of sense) who made sure, the market has the complete information ;) . It introduced me to youngest of the lot who were always full of energy and the experienced lot who proved to be even more energetic. Form the APS to the LPS to the efficient SRs and CR and from all the informal chain mails to removing profs from the groups, everything has been so amazing. The list goes on and on and on.....

From writing 1/12^th of MBA as status message to finally being an MBA, life has mostly been a beautiful journey with some dark nights. And the journey is beautiful not because, it was meant to be but because every single soul nurtured the bonds and relationships we developed. And as we are about to get into an all together different world, I can only wish for a little lesser drastic changes. I know life moves on and so do we. I know that we aren’t meant to attend classes all our life.

Honestly, I am too overwhelmed to realize what do I exactly want. All day long, when people were leaving for their home, I stood strong. I stood strong when I was packing my bags knowing that a lot of my friend would still be staying back at SIMSR to chase their dreams. I stood strong I knew that the next hug from them will be after a long time. And I stood strong, when a friend said, “You are now an alumnus too.” Not anymore!

For all those who I came to know as little or as much

Hope life grows better and we keep in touch

Thank you for the beautiful life in the last 2 years

No matter how strong, the truth is visible in those tears.

---Sriram

Memoirs of PG-A Trip.... Part 2

Contd...

The night party

Earlier in afternoon lot of us were sceptical regarding the availability of our preferred drinks looking at the surroundings which suggested that we were surely in a village area. To this extent a few had even shown a little disappointment while others had already contemplated the option of DESI stuff. However as the night approached everyone was more than happy to have had a look at their own personal love in the shape of bottles of varying shapes and sizes. Form beer to vodka and from frooti to pepsi, we had all.

And there came Rajji who almost looked like a movable chips stall with a plethora of packets hanging on all his sides. Slowly people got into their moods as the liquid found its way from the neck to the belly and finally to the grey areas. While Kumar could be seen with an uncontrollable smile accompanied by Dada, Netaji preferred it clean. RD was his usual way while Ankur kept drinking from here and there boasting of his tenacity. Wadhwa was busy getting his pics clicked in the newly discovered “ Wadhwa Look” while Tarang kept entertaining us all by putting on better songs after the responsibility was taken away from RD. Deepak played a few melodious tracks for all of us which we very soon converted into a ruckus with our extremely tuneless yet enthusiastic voices. Milind sat all the time with the other Marshian (Read Vinie). Rest all of were too busy eating or rather throwing “Chana” on each other. I still don’t know why we found it so amusing then. But yes, we did. As the night passed, the otherwise sitting or lying souls all around, started to move in to the tunes of the typical Boolywood songs. Soon everyone joined the endless dancing which continued for quite a while. The only ones who didn’t were either those who had completely gone down or the ones holding the cameras. For more than the moment then, those pictures and videos is what we will treasure even more. It was almost 2:30 am by then, when people slowly moved into different corners. While some crashed on their beds, others started on to do what we are all best at. GOSSIP!!! Some went emotional talking about all the things we did or did not in the last two years. Some of us went out for a walk to catch up some fresh air. It would have been pretty creepy and scary out there, had we not been there in groups. It was an abandoned road with no lights and a constant voice of a few nocturnal. We came back by 3:30 by when almost everyone were in their dreamland. Rahul, Sammy, Aanand, Amit, Mani and Myslelf. The last few souls still wide awake. Well, there was another round of small talks, which most didn’t remember the next day. And as the time came for most people to wake up and do their daily chores, a group of people away from all the worries of the world went back to catch some sleep. After all it had been an amazing day and we did require some sleep to be rejuvenated enough to carry on the adventure, the next day.

DAY 2... The Staircase to heaven

As a matter of fact, we happened to be in a place also known as “DAKSHIN KAHSHI” which has a huge significance in the religion. It is one of those few places which have a SHIVALING which emerged from the mother earth. A beautiful temple has been constructed all around it, which is worth a visit. Also there is this Semi round circle which the visitors make and is known as “Staircase to heaven.” Well, leaving aside the religious significance and the interpretations, this staircase to heaven without a doubt lives up to its name. It is a staircase to the heavenly beauty which one can experience moving along the path. It is a staircase to one of the best panoramic view of the sea in between the two mountains. Even though we could get a chance to watch the sunset form there, the view we had was indicative enough of the beautiful sunset one can watch from there. And it is undoubtedly a staircase to the heaven of emotional liberation and a way to connect with people around us. A place where peace of mind and tranquillity finds its way into the hearts of visitors and refills their life with a sense of pride and enthusiasm which we tend to lose in the cobweb of our rituals. And as I write about the experiences we all had, I am once again drawn to the beauty and serenity of the place.

As we all had slept at different times, we all went there in different groups. Amit, Rahul, Aanandji and I went and were totally dumbfounded and amazed looking at this beautiful canvas which the nature had painted all so well with all shades of colours. We went about appreciating every big and small thing all around and trying to capture every single moment in frames. We even tried to climb the insurmountable hills around us, but quickly came down after getting a few frames captured to showcase our fake courage and extreme passion to get clicked. As we climbed down those staircase we were once again welcome by yet another vast stretch of sea with hills on oe side and dark rocks on the other. It kind of gave it a class touch and we all in a second realized that this was what we were looking for. The perfect place to feel the cool breeze blowing across the face; to feel the cold water beneath our feet and touch the hot hard rocky hill punctured by the strong tides, which over the years have made holes in those hard rocks. As we moved and walked o those rocks our minds traversed the entire universe of thoughts and found the philosopher, the lover, and the achiever hiding within us. It is so amazing to realize and observe the forces and actions of the nature and draw inspiration from them. While to some the waves appeared to be the difficulties in life and compare themselves to the ever determined rocks unperturbed by them, others found the depth of the sea comparable to their own love and the stormy waves to the occasional wildness and energy in their own passionate story. Not to mention some who found the waves to be like a series of multiple orgasm, you experience while doing the activities you enjoy the most. Certainly there is something enigmatic about this. How easily we are lost and gravitated to an entirely different world all together.

We had to depart by 1 so we all hurried up to reach our hotel and packed up only to visit another beach 40 kms from where we were.

Reaching DiveAgar

We all moved from there to our next destination. Harsh as expected took the first chance to take the back seat with Rahul who had all alone drove 200 kms to be with all of us. And, it was quite expected of him to do so. After all he is one of the most active PGAite always ready for some new adventure. I wonder if anyone else would have been so passionate for a class trip to have rode a bike so far in such a hot sunny weather. Anyways, as we reached Dive Agar, we were way to hungry and after a lot of effort and discussions, we found some place to have satisfied our bellies which had been food deprived for more than a couple of hours. No wonder, we even threw stones to pluck some mangoes on our way and ran before the owner could find us. Tarnag’s height was particularly useful in this case. We were getting late so we hurried up to the beach through a shortcut which happened to be pretty interesting. Sana kept clicking all the fruits, vegetables and leaves which she found in the way and rest of us competing to be clicked. The best part was the way the hills and the pseudo jungle ended and we had a beautiful white beach right ahead of us. More importantly, it was even more beautiful than the previous one. Magnificent, Marvellous, Mind-blowing... The only words I could think of to describe the beautiful thing lying ahead of me.

As per the plans we were to say there only for an hour, but we all knew, it wasn’t possible. It had to be more than that. As usual some immediately ran into the wet sands, while others started walking bare feet on the sands of memories which were to be formed. Some of the adventurous kind took to the adventure sport while the lazy bumps like me took to a cart ride. We engraved “PG-A on the sands only to be eternalized into the lanes of the memory and so did some other names.

Suddenly we found a camel too and instantaneously HK and Vineeta went for a ride. One could clearly see the happiness and excitement on their face as the camel stood up. Milind and I took up the second round and reached just in time to be the part of the class picture which included all 29 of us. And it was certainly an awesome feeling to be in that pic on the top of a camel ;).
As the sun came lower on the horizon and was on its way to set, it was time. A beautiful and a memorable trip almost neared its end. We had to get out of the Hilly region before it went dark. So, we all walked back to the bus.

Return back to the hostel

All good things come to end, and so had our trip. Tired and exhausted, we all lay on our seats reminiscing the moments we shared in the trip. With some sudden bursts of energy a few of us sang to the tunes of friendship and inspite of our unmelodious voices, the songs we sang appeared to be better than rest of the world. I sat there in my seat looking out of the window and as the hills and the tress ran past behind me, I closed my eyes in an effort to capture all the beauty that lay around. It is paradoxical, but the times when we feel lonely are mostly when we are amongst a big group. Suddenly I did feel that unpleasant feeling of being separated from all those people who now are almost like a family. A family, with all the differences, yet possessing a strong bond which is unbreakable; a family which has been there at all the times of happiness and crisis; a family which will be measured not in 2 years or 730 days, but in those innumerable moments we shared together. Engrossed in my own thoughts I even typed up a short poem (which I posted a few days back) and slowly fell into the dark and bright world of sleep and dreams. Woken up by a jerk, we had almost reached Mumbai. We had our dinner and with some more episode of melodrama, action and emotion entered our hostel.

We all were both tired and fresh and not knowing what to do, I just lay awake on my bed, eyes wide open, thinking about the all the time we had in after coming to Mumbai and the little time left. I hope we have a few more such moments in days to come. Caught in the complex cobweb of emotions, I just had a smile which slowly faded as I drowned in sleep and could only think this,

“The PG-A trip was over.” But it was one of the best trips I ever had.

---Siram ( Lucky to be a PGAite)

Memoirs of PG-A Trip.... Part 1

I sat in my room all alone, having nothing to do. One of my roomie had gone to watch LSD which happens to be a C grade movie and the other has off late started sleeping pretty early by hostel standards. But lucky for me, I got the recent video which RD made taking the selected pictures from the class trip we just had. It would be least to say that the video he made out of those stills will be treasured by all of us in years to come. 5 years down the line, when most of us would be married and probably would be doing our very best in our chosen fields and yet feel something missing; I for sure would probably open up these videos and trip folders and be happy about the fact that, once upon a time, we were all so carefree.

As of now, I am a little way to overwhelmed, but still would like to give a shot at writing something about the trip. The first and may be the last trip of PG-A.

Well, the conceptualization of the trip had been taking place from a long time. I guess ever since we joined the course. But somehow, it never materialized. But this time when Rajat called up a meeting in the green benches, we knew its either now or never.

After all the possible ideas and itineraries and the usual chaos and MBAgiri, Harihareshwar was the place we all agreed upon. Dada was the trip manager this time and so we knew, everyone’s going to work. Responsible citizens of PGA like Akhil, Milind and Aanandji along with a few more were to decide on the accommodation and the usual finances while Rajat took care of booking an entire bus for all of us. Once again, there were a series of chain mails on the group which has always been the way of life for all of us. The night before, the number came up to be 27. After a lot of talking and special request from the other side of the hostel, Wadhwa too agreed. Rahul had an interview so he was supposed to reach there by himself.

The journey Begins:

Contrary to our behaviour and against our comfort, we all had decided to depart by 5:30 am. I know, it does sound kind of impossible, especially for people like us who sleep by 4am. But quite surprisingly, we all did manage to get in the bus at 6:30 which was truly an achievement! No wonder Pikolo (Anupam) was the last to board the bus. Ad with this started our road trip. It was pretty new to experience that smooth breeze early in the morning while it was still a little dark. Most of the people dozed off within an hour except a handful of us, who were busy adjusting the speaker and playing Dumb charades. From one game to another, from Antakshari to all the mindless pictures we took, it was all so much of fun and frolic. Wadhwa was on a photo shoot spree while Gaurav and a few more got busy with cards. While the Netaji of our class enjoyed the panaromic beauty, a few of us moved from one activity to the other and the rest with a camera were busy clicking the sleeping beauties of the class in their most unusual positions.

As the sun moved up in the sky, the hungry lot (ie. All of us) commanded for a breakfast stop. I am sure the owner of the Milan resort would thank his stars for 29 of us would have given him more than a week’s business in one time. After we gobbled and satisfied our never ending desire of food, we were once again on roads, this time only to stop at the destination. After a long wait and the drive through the dusty roads and the beautiful hills, we finally could see the extended beach with dark sad and a land so much unexplored. Suddenly inspite of all the humidity and heat, we all were excited and advanced towards our hotel (if i could call it so).

We reach Harihareshwar:

While some slept and a few watched the IPL match, around 15 of us found a common interest ( so to say) and started playing “Chidya Urr” and another game (I forgot the name) where we were supposed to enact in a particular way. Well Sonam did a brilliant task of moderating us and it was beyond a doubt refreshing. I still laugh and smile when I think about it. Those were the games which we played in our high school picnics and once again, while we are on the verge of completing an entire phase of life, we got back to that same age old games. And not to forget the next session of Dumb charades and Killer. (people seemed to have loved being allowed to wink once again after a long time so much so that HK took the liberty to do that inspite of he not being the Killer;)) One could only imagine the love for this game by the fact that people got a little reluctant to even get ready to go to the beach.

At the beach:

All ready and in shades of the colours of rainbow, 29 excited souls reached the beach where, they were welcome by the vast stretch of soft dark sand and the fresh salty water of the sea touching the feet. The first step into the water is the most relaxing and serene. It gives you such a different feeling all together... Free from the daily rituals and the hassles. Out here in the nature’s lap free from all d worries and the responsibilities. A place where one gets a chance to be himself. A place where I meet myself. As I got lost in my own world as I took a step each into the salty water, all the swimmers were already far ahead of me diving and moving with the tides. Some started to swim, while a few played with the ball and a few hydrophobic stayed away. As the sun set, we played and played and played till it was all dark. Tired and exhausted we all came back only to get fresh and start the photo session once again.

The night party and day 2: Contd...

---Sriram ( Lucky to be a PGAite)

"A" Class Apart

The sun shone high; bright was the noon
60 new faces lit up like a full moon
Singles and couples; buddies and brothers- It went all so soon
The date I remember was 16th of June

Red and pink; Yellow and blue
There was a multitude of colour- brand new
Fresh faces, enigmatic eyes, scintillating smile
Everyone seemed so jocund and sublime

From Punjab to Kerala; Assam to Maharashtra
Bongs and Marus ; Punjabis and Mallus
All got woven into a common thread
Of love, friendship and shared interests

The birthday kicks; the party highs
The gossip kings and the innumerable controversies
The movies, the night outs and Counter-Strikes
Each time I think about them, my heartbeat spikes

From roomies to friends; pals to buddies
People found not just love but brothers and sisters
Everyone, while they missed their home
Found a family so close to their soul

Energy ran from the classroom to the food courts
From hostel to the grounds
Books, Music, dance and drama
All forming a part of our Nostalgia

The carnival which begun with high hopes
Moving across the ups and downs; crests and troughs
Expectations were belied, hopes were in shambles
But each of us just said, “ Aaal izzz Welll(s)

As I look back on the roads we traversed
The paths and milestones we covered
Resplendence was redefined; Dedication defined
Perspicacity personified and Majesty magnified

Time Flies as we try reaching the skies
And as an ERA comes to an and
I just don’t wish to move on and part
For this is our very own, “PG A ---A CLASS APART”

--Sriram

(Dis)pleasures of being “Completely Vella”

Most people I have met in my life have always had one common complain and point of dissatisfaction. They didn’t have any time (leave apart the concept of quality time) for themselves or for their family and loved ones. Sandwiched between work and endless responsibilities they found their lives being torn apart. They longed for moments where they could go and watch a movie or just sit by their window and relax or atleast have one morning when they wake up without getting tensed about all the unfinished tasks they need to complete. In short they were the modern day depictions of what Henry Davies wrote long back, “What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.”

Till sometime back even I was one amongst them. The pressure of performance in all the activities I undertook voluntarily or involuntarily along with a host of personal and professional responsibilities used to drain me out. There were moments when i felt like running away to the Himalayas. Then came a moment of my life, when I got a dream job with my dream organizations, in a manner which still feels like a dream to me. Suddenly life changed in a blink of an eye. Moments before I was crashing under the nerve breaking pressure of proving oneself to the world; and suddenly I was a free bird.

Out of all the emotions which filled my heart the one which I wish to talk about is the pleasure of being “Completely Vella ” (For those with poor vocabulary “Vella” is the state of body and mind in which a person has absolutely nothing to do or think)

After a long time I wake up with no POAs at the back of my mind. I take all the time in the world to get ready (even if that makes no difference in how I look :P). Being a little abnormal, I now wake up pretty early in the morning. (I wake up late when I am supposed to do the contrary). My mom would be really happy to know that I now am regular with my breakfast also. And after all these morning chores I sit idle with literally no job. (Getting a job in medium run has made me unemployed in the short run). For the first few days I actually enjoyed this feeling of being vella. After all it came to me after a lot of trials and tribulations.

But this happiness was really short lived. I now feel really weird. And there are reasons for the same.

I wake up early and sleep late which gives me an extra couple of hours to spend. (But where?). I do not have any deliverables and have no reasons whatsoever to open a book or even the daily newspaper. (Honestly I wish to remain as far as I can from that ET). I don’t feel like browsing through a novel or books which give “general gyan”. But what really horrifies me is the fact that I don’t feel like watching movies or TV soaps either. While had exams I used to watch a movie almost every day along with those TV series (likes of HIMYM and Scrubs). And I used to take small naps while sitting on my study table. Even when I had to grasp those riling and vexing rules of IFRS and US GAAP, I always found time to compose poetry or write something abstract. But now I do none of them. How am I supposed to pass the 24 hours I have at my disposal... I guess the real fun and pleasure of having “fun” is when I have deadlines to achieve and unfinished tasks in my hands.

Yesterday, for the first time, I felt like I should have had a girlfriend. Not that I am looking for a short term relationship just to pass my time(I won’t do that even in my dreams), but looking at my committed friends I do know; they are always short of time(No offence meant). May be that is a panacea to all my problems.

I know I am a confused soul and when I should be living these moments, I am actually praying otherwise and would again pray otherwise the moment my prayers get answered! May be that is how I am.

-Sriram