Everyday Philosophy-I

How does it feel when a person doesn't value you?

Why do we feel so crushed inside?

What are the reasons why people laugh at others? Mostly, it is because they think that you are less intelligent when compared to them. In fact, they think that you are too dense to even fathom the insult that has been hurled at you.

But in order to judge if they are more intelligent/ knowledgable than you, they would, in reality have to be more intelligent/ knowledgable than you. This is something, that, most people very easily assume. And this assumption leads them to then mock others.

But, of what use is intelligence anyway? To get a job so that you can feel intellectually satisfied and lead a comfortable life? But that would mean that having both a comfortable life and intellectual satisfaction would point towards your being intelligent!

Of course, some cynics would still argue that your success is merely the result of what people call a stroke of luck. But, if your end objective of being intelligent has been satisfied, does the opinion of some cynics really matter?

The Story - Part I

With intrepid hands, she keyed in the number once again mentally making a note of the number of calls that she had made since morning. This time he picked up.

"Hey! How was the interview?"
"Horrible", he replied.
"Hmmm ... Why? What Happened?"
"Don't want to talk about it"
Snubbed again! OK. Time to end the conversation. Don't drag it. Let him be.

"OK. Am coming over to your room." Oh drat!!!!

She knocked nervously on the door. Room #229. Desperately hoping for a pleasant surprise. A grumpy face greeted her. No surprise.

She sat down smiling on the edge of the bed. She always sat there, trying to be as unobstrusive as possible. As usual, he occupied the red plastic chair leaving his previous position on the bed and adjusted his laptop to suit his new position.

He was still not looking directly at her. "What exactly happened in the interview?", she blurted.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"OK Fine. Let's go out for dinner. :) It's been ages since we went to Hong Kong."
"So? Go with somebody else"
She, still forcing a smile, "Oh Please, Let's go!! I'm not in a good mood and will make me feel better"
"PLEASE! DO I HAVE TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR CURING YOUR DEPRESSION ALL THE TIME??!!!"
"Please lower your voice. Everybody can hear."
"So, only you can raise your voice at 3 a.m. in my room? If I do it at 7 in the evening, I'm wrong?!!!"

Autobiography - Part I

I was born on the 3rd of September, 1985 in the city of Patna in Bihar where my grandparents resided. From what I am told, I had got my arms and legs entangled while in my mother’s womb which lead to some complications. I however weighed 4 kgs on birth and people who came to visit often remarked that I was unusually tall for a new born. In fact, my feet hung out of the tray in which the nurse carried me immediately after my birth.

My birth was a joyous occasion in the family especially because it coincided with my mother’s birthday. My grandfather distributed ‘Rasgullas’ in every room in that hospital to which a lot of people innocently inquired “Is it a boy?” My name had been decided long before my birth. It was a suggestion from an aunt of my mother’s and since both my parents were fond of Tagore’s works, they decided to name me after his Nobel-prize winning collection of poems. Of course, as all Bengali families go, there has to be a pet name that has no relationship whatsoever with the real name and which often acts as a great source of embarrassment when one grows up. So, I too was given a pet name, a shortened form of the Russian word for “doll”. This was owing to the strong Russian influence in my family. My father and both his siblings had been educated in Moscow and my grandfather, a communist revolutionary often visited Moscow to deliver talks on communism. My grandmother of course had her own quirks. She wanted the names of all her granddaughters to begin with an “S”. So, she named me after a flower that blossomed in her garden that rainy season and repeated this story of my christening in the most dramatic fashion possible several times in the years to come. “That monsoon it rained heavier than in all previous years. And the beautiful white flower grew in full blossom everywhere. I brought in a huge bunch from the garden the day you were born and the entire house was filled with its fragrance!” she would say.

My grandfather’s house where I spent the first few months after my birth was an old house with huge rooms, polished red-stone flooring that stayed very cold in the summers and a huge garden and backyard. There was also a well in the middle of the garden and plants grew wild all around it. The words “Sarkar Avas” (meaning “Sarkar Mansion”) were inscribed on a broken stone on the gate. The first floor of the building was rented out to a library that I found out later never paid the rent; but my grandfather often borrowed books from there to read. I do not have any recollections of my relationship with my parents of that time. But I remember my parents, grandparents, aunt and cousin being around all the time. I must mention here that this is my paternal family I am talking about. I saw very little of my maternal family then and even in later years of my childhood. My cousin who was just 3 years elder had taken charge of babysitting me and was around me most of the time. She would stare at me for hours when I was sleeping and later tell everyone that she was taking good care of me.

After a few months, my parents returned with me to Ahmedabad where my father worked. We changed 2-3 homes before I turned 2. My father would never be satisfied with the place where we shifted. Within months of shifting to a new house, he would start finding faults with the house and start looking for a new place. Of these, I have distinct recollections of a colony called Ashok Nagar where we lived for a few months; probably because we’re still close to families who were our neighbors then. This is the house that I first learnt to walk in. There was very little furniture in that house and I ran from one end of the room to another when I first learnt to walk. I was a very jolly child then, always laughing. I had a peculiar way of jumping up and saying my name out loud whenever somebody asked my name. People enjoyed this. I was always a nocturnal creature refusing to sleep till late in the night which created a lot of trouble for my parents. My mother had given up her job then to spend time with me. But she was very happy about the fact that I could sit for hours on end without demanding her attention.

Why does he keep running away? He ran away again today. From my questions. "Has she told her parents?", I asked. "Maybe she has", he said and rushed to the other end of the library through the maze of books and picked up a book hardly looking at it.

Is he going to marry her afterall. And what if he is! Why does it matter to me so much!

Is that why he is so depressed? Is that why he needs to smoke 10 cigarettes a day all of a sudden? Because he is decieving me. Because that is the only way he can save his relationship with her! Was I in the way? When was I in the way?

A New Beginning

I have been wanting to post since the day I landed here in XLRI. But the anticipation of guilt at not spending as much time as possible in the real world had so far prevented me from doing so. So, am just going to put all my thoughts down here at once.

The whole "entering through the hallowed portals of XLRI" that has been much publicised on the net and elsewhere was not of much consequence in my case. Frankly, the signboard is so small that it left us wondering if we had entered through the right gate. I did the think the campus was beautiful, but realised that I have lost all ability to express my excitement about such things. Now this brings me to the second point. People. First Impressions. I noticed that the crowd here was much younger. Hence much more spirited. Some of the guys in the senior batch are 4 years younger. :o Secondly, I was very impressed by the fact that most of the boys and girls were extremely smart. Extremely accomplished and articulate group of people. Followed by the realisation that I would not get an opportunity to interact and be friends with most of them since I would automatically get inducted into the "uncool group".

In the next few days I experienced .. a slight disappointment after seeing my hostel room. Major joy at knowing that we would be sharing our mess with the guys (engrossing discussions over breakfast and evening snacks instantly came to the mind). Inevitable comparisons with my engineering college. "The rooms were huger!" "Shucks! No fridge in the hostel???!" "Our canteen food was world-class. Such variety." The hesitation in speaking to the smarter-looking people, and instead preferring to be with the "uncool group", a manifestation of an already present inferiority complex perhaps. A slight flutter in the heart at a smile from a cute guy on campus. Only to realise a while later, that he is in fact 2 years younger. :-( Chatting for hours on facebook with a certain batchmate and being able to manage only an uncomfortable "Hi!" on meeting him in person. Long periods of loneliness when the roomie leaves for a movie with her newly formed "group of friends". The dilemma of being with the studious (aka boring) group for the sake of projects and assignments or being with people who seem more fun. Major setbacks at not being invited to a booze party being held on the terrace of the men's residence and not having company to visit the night canteen on certain occasions. Worry about whether I will forever be stuck with 3 boring South-Indians with whom I have nothing in common. More worries and disappointments interspersed by spurts of excitement. But accompanies throughout by the "hope for a better future!" :D

What If ...

I have a confession to make. Every time I sit down to make an entry in my blog, I internally resolve to do it every single day. Still, so great is the joy of having succesfully accomplished the mammoth task of creating another phenomenal post that I completely forget about it. Hence, before I begin ranting, I take an oath at this unearthly hour to henceforth honour the promises I make to myself. Having said that, I must also warn you at this point, that this post has the full potential of ending up being a very long one and also random in places, since am blogging after such a long gap.

Phew! 2009! Where have I been the past 6 years. Its been 2 years since I finished college and I am still living in 'Loserville'. I quit my job about a month back. Told everybody that I had other plans - big plans - Of joining an NGO or a Research Project. Today, am still without a job. Not that I repent my decision to quit. They would've kicked me out anyway, the way things were going. So basically, I have nothing but my plans for CAT this year. And oh yeah! In case, I didn't mention this earlier, I scored a 95.3 percentile in CAT last year ( a proud moment considering the amount of preparation that had gone into it :)) and also managed to get an interview call from XLRI Jamshedpur. Royally screwed the interview though and ruined all my chances of building a better life for myself. :(

As much as I try not to dwell in the past, I cant help but think what would've happened if I had lived the past few years a little differently. Chaos Theory afterall suggests that "even a slight change in the initial condition may manifest itself as a huge change in the final outcome".

Would things have been different if I had not met "A"? Things were almost perfect till the end of our induction training. I had performed brilliantly in the training and was on my way to a most glorious career in IT after a year of which I would enter 1 of the premier B Schools in the country. Well, that was the plan initially. But I will have to admit to the fact that I had developed a slight crush on him when I first met him. I secretly kept hoping that we would be together in each of the group activities although I did not express it so openly then. This fear of letting my affection known to others led to a kind of outward fury. I ranted on and on about how arrogant he was and how much I hated the sight of him.

Even later, when we became friends, strangely the friction kept coming back. We argued and fought endlessly over trivial issues. But every time that I was with him, it only became clearer how perfectly he embodied everything that I admire and love so much. He had become my idol, my object of worship. People linked the 2 of us together all the time and that opened the Pandora's box of possibilities for me. (A foolish thought when I look back now) For I forgot that I wanted to do an MBA. I also forgot that had to perform and prove my mettle at the workplace. Before, I knew it, I was thinking about "A" all the time.

But the final realisation came on New Year's eve I think. That night, In my dead drunk state, when he loving lokked into my eyes smiling as sweetly as ever and held my hand, I knew I wanted nothing else but to be truly and madly in love with him.

I wish that moment could last forever. I wish he would not grow so indifferent since that day. Although we remain friends and he tries to love me now knowing how I feel, I know for a fact that there'll always be this lingering hope and I'll always wait for him to feel the same way. And I can't help but wonder if he too would've loved me if he had not met her first!



Kaash
- Call
(My favorite song right now)

wo raastay
gum na ho thay
hum sehra na
bhatak thay

ye sadiyon kay
safar mein
us waqt jo
teher jaa thay

4x: Kuch toh tum keh jaate
2x:
kabhi tho milo ge
kabhi tho kaho ge
hum jo yun na jaate
kaash teher jaate

aaj bhi
talaash hai
wo raastey
chalay the jin pe

is tarah kabhi yun
saath saath
hamesha
is safar mein

4x: hum tumse keh paate
2x:
kabhi tho milo ge
kabhi tho kaho ge
hum jo yun na jaate
kaash teher jaate

2x:
kabhi tho milo ge
kabhi tho kaho ge
hum jo yun na jaate
kaash teher jaate




P.S. I dont care of none of you wanted to read such a long post about my failed love life. I just had to dedicate this post to "us" :)

Friendless in Pune

I am a big girl now. I am all of 22 years now and will soon turn 23. Now, I have never really considered birthdays as breakthrough events. The only thing that has concerned me about birthdays for most part of my life is to somehow try and avoid the huge birthday bash organized by my parents at home. But, this time, with my birthday approaching, I feel like taking a trip down memory lane.

As a kid, I was always very alone. I deliberately did not use the word 'lonely' for I myself am not too sure if I was unhappy about it. For a long time, I probably was not even aware of the fact that it was unusual for a kid of my age to spend so much time alone. Being an only child, I had learned to keep myself occupied at all times - watching mushy romantic movies, learning songs and singing them, recording my voice, listening to it over and over again, re-recording trying to sound better each time, sketching, reading, practicing interviews that I would give when I got famous, admiring myself in front of the mirror, talking incessantly to my dolls - these were some of my activities as a 7 year old. I had very few 'friends', so to say. I despised the kids who lived in the same neighborhood since they used bad language and refused to play with them. The girls in my school, I found to be classy and uptight. I shunned them all, telling myself all along that "Someday I will meet the right kind of people and be very good friends with them." Maybe, I felt secure in my shell at that time. I tried desperately to stay out of public eye. The fact that nobody noticed me made me feel safe. I did not speak unless spoken to.

When I was alone, I could be myself. I felt safe in the knowledge that I was not expected to entertain another person. For entertaining meant hard work, and I had found comfort in solitude.


I sometimes feel, maybe, even then, I felt unhappy deep inside about the kind of person I was, even if I did not show it. For I remember deciding at the beginning of every academic year to talk to people, be friendly and funny and talkative and charming like everybody else. Anyway, that plan never materialized and finally in college, I met people who liked me for who I am. They were crazy, insecure people like me. My dream had come true. There was no need for me to change now. These were people who understood me. They were people who were ready to listen. Gradually, I started to feel confident about myself and I couldn't believe it was so easy after having struggled with my coyness for all these years. But the dream did not last long. College got over in 4 years and I was back to being completely alone.

Today, I am in a nice city with a nice job with no friends to celebrate with. There is so much to do, with the CAT inching closer with a compelling determination, but I have lost the will to study. I feel so lonely and insignificant right now. I am losing myself to the routine day by day, minute by minute. I am tired of my colleagues who pretend to be nice. I am tired of all the superficial talk. I am in a mess and need to get out of it. Soon.