freedom: /ˈfriːdəm/ the power of self-determination attributed to the will; the quality of being independent of fate or necessity

Every human has a different interpretation of freedom depending on their current state and the environment around them. The above picture was of a time when our group of friends visited the Sinhagad fort during our college days. The trip was decided in a matter of hours and executed on a beautiful day of the August monsoons.

That was the time when the days were not defined by meetings, deadlines and targets. It was a period when free thought, creativity and an utmost confidence from within us made us feel that the world was ours to be and we shall make it a better place. But today, the meaning of freedom is weekend!

This post was written as my entry to  Frames of Freedom contest for BlogAdda.com

Here are our other attempts at the same picture: http://www.flickr.com/photos/thesaurus_of_time/3005912842/

My appetite for mishaps and weird incidents reached a new level when I locked up myself in my apartment in Geneva. A story which led to me being the laughing stock of my office folks in Switzerland.

One evening, after an awfully long day at work I returned to my apartment, with my roommate still at work. This incident revolves around the two keys which were used to gain access to the building and then to the apartment.

After reaching early, I started attempting to cook dinner for the both of us. The roommate arrived below the building and called me up to come down and open the building door from inside. Tired and lazy I suggested to drop the key from our 5^th floor apartment to him from the balcony. What happened next is an incident to remember!

I peeped out of the window and attempted my well practiced ‘key throw‘ towards my roommate. Little had I realized that Murphy’s Godforsaken law would pop up in the avatar of the vulgar façade protruding from the 1^st floor of the building and stop its journey to the ground! The keys never reached the ground and decided to stay back on the first floor!

I realized what happened and like Robin muttered, ‘No problemo Batman I’ll come down and open the building door and then fetch the key by the help of the 1^st floor apartment dude’.  With a hare like swiftness I sprung into action and ran towards my apartment door, only to realize that it wouldn’t open as I had locked myself in and had thrown the key downstairs! Yep, I could be featuring in the next episode of jailed abroad on Nat Geo! ( I did mutter a lot of F this and F that at this point!)

So now the roommate couldn’t get in the building and I couldn’t get out of the apartment. It was pretty late, we decided that he’d goto a friend’s place to stay for the night and morning will return with reinforcements.

Morning came and the roommate was on his way with a friend(the reinforcement?). I peeped outside the window to check if the key was there but the key was missing from the spot! Bollocks I say!

I had no way to figure out where had the key gone, the reinforcement suggested that the key was taken by a bird! Preposterous explanations for us! Anyways, they gained entry to the building and went to the 1^st floor apartment only to find it locked. Next, they called the concierge but nobody picked.

Meanwhile I ended up calling the apartment lease broker for a spare key, they refused to help! I reminded them that the apartment is cleaned by cleaning staff which must be having a key. I then called up the cleaning people who couldn’t understand English! After a weird anglo-french conversation and they called back and promised to send someone over to open up the door!

After about 30 minutes a pretty lady opened the door, can’t express how glad I was to get out and see another human! I then ran to get a duplicate key made at the cost of around 800 INR!! But when I returned, I met this old man who had dropped a few keys and helped him by picking the keys and guiding him to the elevator. Somewhere in my heart I thought maybe those are my keys(I still didn’t have a building key!). Anyways, we entered the lift to test the duplicate key on the apartment, only to find this old man standing in front of our apartment fiddling with the original keys! He had braved all the way up to return our keys, I ran and thanked him in all languages I knew!

Background Story: The 1^st floor apartment dude had picked the keys and kept them on our mailbox with a note. The old man picked the keys and left the same note behind. My roomate found the note but without the key, and had no idea who flicked it this time! Had lost all hopes and were annoyed as well…but then the old man turned up with the key!

Yes, my laziness cost us all a lot of distress

Another old post from my old blog, am just getting nostalgic and lazy! This one was written back on Feb 15, 2006

Every morning at 7.55 AM my office shuttle(another word for bus) starts from JP Nagar First Phase taking the turn to the East end main road and finally reaching BTM Layout…

I have a particular seat which is in a way my seat on the left side of the bus, just for the simple fact that 4 minutes into the journey to my office I would be passing in-front of the “Brand and Bargains” showroom and around 8 AM I would witness ‘her’ waiting like everyday for her bus.

I don’t know where she works, I dont know who is she but all I know is that I wish to see her everyday, in a way a lucky charm for me! She ain’t the prettiest girl, but then she is different…she could be working anywhere maybe Infosys, Wipro, TCS or anywhere…

Its already more than a couple of months when I am sitting at my seat in the bus waiting eagerly to have a glimpse, and then move on without thinking of her till the next day, the probability is that I would never know her in person, I may never know her name even…

She might never know about my eagerness to just have a glimpse of her, but it doesn’t make any difference…this relationship, if i take liberty in calling it one, is different. In a way I don’t wish things to change, there is this hidden beauty in all this…and I wish to retain it.

Its a routine that I wish to continue…to see her waiting every morning for her office bus right at 8.

Note: I never talked to this girl back then as expected, funny I don’t even remember the face now!

Wrote this post back in 2006 on my previous blog, it was apt to migrate it on Mother’s day(got delayed by a few days):

Its 6.45 AM today, a Monday morning. As I struggle to get ready in time, my stomach rumbles reminding me of its demands for a breakfast. Time is short, and I am yet to get ready for work, opening my larder I discover that I don’t have anything ready to eat, thankfully a few slices of bread and jam come to my rescue. While I am exercising thin layers of jam over the slices, my mind went back to my school days, barely 5-6 years ago when mom used to prepare the school lunch and breakfast for me.

It seems a different age now, but I do remember those delicious savouries which she used to cook just for me all those years, getting up early to prepare them to my liking. I never ever bothered to thank her for them, perhaps we all never do. Every morning while waking her sleepy son she used to give a choice between this or that, some days it could be as simple as the jam-bread and on others it would vary from aloo paranthas or cutlets just to my liking. Today I am on my own, living in an Alien city where thousands of people get up – work – return home and loop again like zombies. Nobody seems to care whether poor old me is getting the right breakfast, or am eating at all. Guess what! this was the Independence or job life which we waited for all those years in college….

Before I forget…I thank you Ma for all those 12 years of early morning breakfasts and school lunches, which today seem to me a princely feast in comparison to what I can cook and eat….

“Get a big TV, don’t buy a small one. Get a 3 burner cooking range, two burners is too small”, with these instructions my daily phone call to Ma comes to an end. Its been less than 3 weeks since I moved to the new city and found myself a pad. Of course the place is empty and its been upto me to spruce it up the way I want it.

Equipped with a shoe string budget and purely functional needs in mind, I scoot off every now and then to the nearby home stores to add bits to my shack. At the end of each such visit I report back to Ma about my purchases and how it fits in well! Unfortunately Ma always has a different view, while I look at smaller furniture, small TV, small refrigerators…her demands are for the big stuff. Its unspoken but well understood that she wants me to buy everything according to how the needs shall be when I am married. It annoys me to no end but I always stop just short of explaining it to her, for I guess she may not comprehend it too well.

When I buy smaller stuff it gives me a comfort that I am still single, not getting sucked up into the family life just yet. Anything family size makes me aware that this freedom might end soon, its almost like marking my territory by buying things which are meant a single person to use…ay! even a dual burner seems to be an overkill in my kitchen! Constant trips to attend weddings of my friends who are now a part of this epidemic(as Barney said in HIMYM) doesn’t do me any good either, for she now thinks that I am ready to be domesticated.

For now I am winning the battle by citing financial constraints(which are partially true as well) but I know one day she’d have it her way, it would the day when Ma would visit me for a few weeks and change the landscape of the house buying comforts for her imaginary daughter-in-law whose name, arrival date, and whereabouts are still unknown.

*** Disclaimer ****

The house in the image isn’t mine(flicked off the net) and I am not getting married! So please don’t congratulate me and scare the bones out of me!

There is a silly line which I mutter every time I get down on the VT station (okay! CSTM for the MNS and SS) with my friends. Watching the crowd, I’d quote innumerable hindi films:

ये है मुंबई शहर. सपनो का शहर. यहाँ सबको जल्दी है. खाने की जल्दी. ऑफिस जाने की जल्दी. पैसे कमाने की जल्दी. जीने की जल्दी. रोज़ यहाँ हजारो लोग आते है अपने सपनो को पूरा करने..

I arrived in Mumbai around 6 months ago, for my job required me to. I had always believed that if one could survive in Mumbai one could survive anywhere. I had been here before, but always as a visitor, an outsider just for short trips. But this time, I was meant to stay here and live the place.

Within a week of my landing here I ended up living in Dadar. Oh yeah! I was living in the townside as a Mumbaikar would say. For them anything ahead of Sion is a part of the suburb! I guess I had well avoided the most stressful activity for any newcomer, of finding a ‘decent’ place to stay, thanks to an old friend.

Like Morgan Freeman once talked of life being institutionalized my life started oscillating between the 8.41 AM Thane Fast from Dadar and the 6.27 PM CST Slow from Thane back home. Within 15 days I was the champion of the Central Line with a good awareness of surviving Western and Harbor too. I could tell you how much time in exact minutes it takes between point A to point B. I could lounge myself or squirrel through crowds to get in the trains. You could quiz me for any station sequence and I’d ace it!

In between work and trains, the endless stream of people and constant acitivity at any time of the day made it so alive…nothing like the sleepy towns I have been to. Between the extremities of lavish homes at Khar and the people living off the city streets I was amazed by the ‘in your face’ nature of life here.

Hundreds of Mani’s Dosas(What! you never been to Mani’s Cafe in Matunga?) and Filter Kapi fueled my mornings enabling me to be a corporate labor each day, with Mani never realizing how he was fueling India’s GDP through an able manager like myself!

Marine Drive and Nariman Point

Our weekends were sprinkled with our Foodie desires and frequent visits to the Marine Drive. That stretch of Queen’s Necklace would continue to be one of the favorite places of the city, almost an oasis of peace in bustling city. It was a part of my first evening here and I hope it shall be a part of my last evening here too.

Did I love the city? Do I want to leave it? These questions keep coming, but I feel they are irrelevant…afterall the choice has been made, my preferences do not matter. But, I do know for sure that this city allows one to dream and pursue them…it is both kind and ruthless to people….Like Sinatra once sang:

“This town is a lonely town…Not the only town like-a this town…This town is a make-you town…Or a break-you-town and bring-you-down town…This town is a quiet town…Or a riot town like this town…This town is a love-you town…and push-you-’roundtown”

I survived Bombay…and I know I can now survive anywhere.

It was just two days ago I was in Pune for some work. It was nice to be back in the same place where I spent two years as a student…visited all my favorite joints on the FC Road. Relished the breakfast at Good luck, dosa at Vaishali and what not.

Incidently had crossed German Bakery but just didnt get the time to stop by and grab a bite, it was the perfect western eating joint at KP. A day later, on Saturday 13 February evening, we got the news about the blast at German Bakery.

I was shocked at the news, recalling that I had wanted to visit it. But the real shock came after an hour when we got the news that 4 of my college friends’ were amongst the injured in the blast and that one of them wasn’t traceable.

What followed was an agonizing hour of waiting for any news with networks being jammed his phone was not reachable. Thankfully he was found and had escaped with minor injuries. Thankfully all of them were safe with no severe injuries, but 9 people had already lost lives there!

I for one, had never imagined this could happen to any of us. I never felt that terror could hit people I knew. Had I stayed back in pune for the weekend, I would have been a part of the meetup too!

Maybe we focused too much on the movie release that police couldn’t focus on other things which mattered.

I don’t know the answers, but it has made me realize that this is real…any of these days we could just become a statistic….a casualty. With that our dreams and hopes to make a mark on this world could just end, for no fault of ours, for reasons we cannot comprehend.

Fear wouldn’t solve it, only action would.

Not tho’ the soldiers knew
Some one had blunder’d:
Their’s not to make reply,
Their’s not to reason why,
Their’s but to do and die:

The lines above have been taken from Tennyson’s The charge of the Light Brigade. The very same lines are a part of my GTalk status for a few days now. They reflect very well a soldier’s duty to follow orders without questioning them even if these very same orders may lead to their doom!

Most of us admire and envy a soldier’s life filled with discipline, �honor and valor. �A soldier’s life and the life of his fellow men often depends on following orders�without�fail or deviation. For people like me, who love to question each decision/order in order to understand the big picture; an army career would have been a difficult choice.

But, just putting the same lines in the perspective of life and replacing the decision maker as God, i suddenly feel that unwittingly all of us just ‘do and die’. Whenever unfortunate events occur in our life, people comfort us by telling that something better is in store and that we should not question it for it is the part of God’s big plan.

But what if, Some one had blunder’d, and the big plan is but a false dream? Then of course, we are just doing and dying only to be forgotten in time…

PS-Apologies if this is a very philosophical and confusing post to read!

Everyday, my local train leaves Dadar station at 8.41 AM to reach Thane at 9.10 AM Precisely at 9.08, we’d all get up from our seats and lineup on in such a way that the incoming rush at Thane station doesn’t kill us.

As the train draws to a halt, a swarm of screaming people glides in…hurting unsuspecting individuals standing at the door, for they thought that the crowd would allow them to get down first. Its terrifying at times, people can get seriously hurt.

Having lived most of my days in not-so-cluttered environs, I fail to understand why would people risk their lives to reach to their�workplaces in time. Is work that important? Probably, India’s Got Talent could pick a few gymnasts from the mumbai local horde!

Okay, having scared the reader enough of the local train crowd, i’d bring back today evening’s incident which made me feel different about the same people who seem so mad each morning.

On my return journey tonite, the train stopped at Vikhroli…a blind man was trying to find his way on the platform…almost bumping at the pillars or the seats. Every now and then a passerby would guide him…and save him from hurting himself. Every few seconds i felt that he might hurt himself…but someone always was around to help him out…While my train started moving on, a passerby just�held this man’s walking stick and guided him all the way out.

These are the same people I am afraid of each morning in the train; and now I respect them each day too.
Someone was absolutely correct when he wrote:
Aye dil hai mushkil jeena yahan. Zara hat ke zara bach ke. Ye hai bombay meri jaan

Coaxed and threatned here I am penning down on our B Division…aka as padhaku division, boring, nerdy and the uncool or whatever the popular mis-conception �was! So then where do I start, shall I do a Mapara and give a comment of each one of us like he did for C Division? Noo…let Mapara bask in his own glory, because i believe our division was a single organism and not just individuals brought together by the Gods of acads department.�

�

So what was B Division – It is a potpurri of different flavors yet one color. Dahling’s of some teacher’s (read Business Law and OR) and nemesis of others (read HR). Managed to score zero as a group in one silly Eff-See-Que of RM, and managed to bail ourselves out of it too. �Certain old men give new dimesions to how HR was studied, and then there were others(certain loud mouths) who beat the CLO in explaining HR concepts. Were to the forefront of giving timely submissions and also about not caring for Foundation exams (Oh yes! some of us have still not appeared for a few of those!).�

�

Singles, engaged, committed and married you name it and we have them…oh yes some of us even changed these stages while being a part of the gang. Blessed with singers, and guitarists we even have people who could put Janice(remember F.R.I.E.N.D.S) to shame. College toppers to exam floppers, from the tallest of the tall to the shortest of them all. From pure Punjabi fun to Man madrasa, from pernnial hard workers to sleephyheads(favorites of Pathak Sir) we have seen it and done it all. We have had cake officers to certain non resident students surprising even Prantosh.

�

…but then how did this cacophony of contradictions ended up giving perfect music? I’ll never know, sometimes things just given an impression of being impossible…but then for B division things have always been possimpible!