About bags, legs, and a beautiful mind!

Imagine a big bag, any ordinary one will do. Now put all the people whom you consider important into the bag. All the one that come to your mind the moment you consider the phrase "Important people in my life". Did I mention to imagine a big bag? If I did not, then imagine a big bag with a lot of space, and then go on to put in your favorite people. Done? Then pick the bag up and try walking around.

Eh! Screw this intellectual shit about carrying a lot of emotional burden that comes in the form of relationships of any and every kind. Allow me to be blunt. I just got a jolt when I saw a kid getting too cozy with my lady. I could have killed them both and gone to jail. And I wish I had done that. At the point when I saw them sitting together, I went FUCKING berserk!! My blood pressure shot through the stratosphere. I could feel my breath shallower automatically. For some reason, I suddenly got a feeling that there was a camera recording all of this footage. The next that struck me was that the recorded footage might be used for a comedy show. Yeah! Of all things, I was going to become a star in some imaginary comedy show that I'm afraid I'll be watching tonight in my dreams! Not good! Not one bit! I even have a name for the comedy show...

जलाके राख कर दिया कमीनी ने!

Jalaake raakh kar diya kameeni ne!(The heartless bitch burnt me to ashes!)

 I am sure that had Stephen King seen my predicament today, we'd have got a Shawshank Redemption 2 in no time! Just that this time, Andy(From Shawshank Redemption) would be the second man guilty in Shawshank prison. Wow! I never thought my thoughts were this full of crap! It is actually alarming. Specially when you look for your sense of humor in tragedy, and cannot get hold of it.

Now that's what I call true tragedy.

But there is something very funny about the time you feel cheated on. You allow yourself the freedom to just let out all your anger at a projection of the person who cheated you, inside your mind ofcourse. Remember the time when one of the parent got mad at you and you got into your room and completely obliterated the very existence of your beloved parent? Strangely, and rather thankfully, our mind is completely equipped with all the necessary simulations to give your sinister thoughts their right to exist, without harming a soul. And this is still while you still hold close your feelings for this person in the back of your head, who ever he/she is. Convenient. No?

If you are stupid, or you happen to be attending some class in college, you'll remain crazy all throughout the time you think of your "loss". But, there's a cure. Go for a bloody run! You'll thank evolution for having given you legs. If you're reading this, and you don't have legs, then 2 things... Firstly, I'm not sorry for you. Secondly, you should try swimming. Trust me, swimming works just as well as running!

Crass jokes apart, running actually becomes a lot easy to focus on when your mind is preoccupied with unpleasant stuff. And you can go as long as you like. Your legs don't hurt as much. Besides, it puts you at peace with yourself. It becomes a lot easier to not give a shit about things. Your balls get revitalized. So you get the smarts to tell that flirty kid to fuck off, the next time he tries getting cozy with your lady. You get the smarts to realize that the lady was yours for a reason. That reason is YOU. All you need to do is get back your reason. And if the lady doesn't come back, who's loss is it anyway?

The butterfly story

And then there are times when you rant about everything serious, when there is the least need for you to be serious. You think you sound like you're on a mission, the biggest undertaking by man, but you actually sound more like a quack. And when realisation strikes, "Whoops, buddy! Too late!."

Damage irreversible. 

The pursuit of happiness is a fundamental right for everyone. But in our pursuit of happiness, we actually forget to be happy. A huge contradiction in itself, isn't it? We're all uptight and serious about things that we think matter to us, or at least we pretend that way. But meh! Who gives a damn? 

Most often, we complain about things, issues, that can be easily dealt with in a far easier manner than we usually imagine. Small tweaks here and there, a few moments of silence, a little bit of patience, and a little control over the tongue, and the world will be a better place to live in without shelling a dime, or, for that matter, shelling any place. But NO. We are all smart! So we want to sound smart. We want to look smart, at least to others. 

We are so hell-bent on convincing the other to look through our eyes, that we forget about the two other perspectives that exist already. I picked the following from a poster in my friend's room. It said that 

There are 3 sides to every argument. Your outlook, the opposition's outlook, and the correct outlook. And as I watch and analyse the things I do, I see how conveniently I throw the other 2 perspectives, the right one and that of the opposition, right out of the window.  And again, by the time I even get a glimpse of where the banana peel was, I'm sitting on my big bum, wondering what just happened. 

I hate arguments. I absolutely hate it when I need to convince someone of what I think. It is a painful and energy draining exercise. I'd rather bee the non-argumentative Indian. It feels a lot more convenient. No one would offend you,  you wouldn't offend anyone, and everything can be happily ever after. 

I am a perverse creature. And I'm sure many of us are. It is like this. Imagine you are a butterfly. You want to enter a particular room in a building. The reason you want to enter the room is because the occupant of the room tries preventing you from entering the room. So basically, you want to to enter the room for kicks. You happen to be smart as you figure out that there is a vent above the room's window that grants you entry into the room. So you go prancing about, very proud that you figured out a way to enter the room, despite the room's occupant doing his/her best to keep you from entering the room. 

You fly full speed into the vent, squeeze yourself through the small space, and Woalah!! You just entered the room! But it is not a moment later that you get pulled into the vortex of the room's fan. And mind you, your wings are all-powerful. Agreed, that it will allow you to lift off the ground and soar to great heights. But sorry. They cannot let you escape the strong pull of the fan's vortex. And so, you get sucked into the fan's blades, and get in the way of one/more of these fan blades, breaking your wings, if not worse. And so, you come down with a crash. You are not going to survive. In your last moments, you hear the room's occupant say something. It's  a beautiful looking girl, with skin the texture of cream, and a certain curl to every strand of her hair. 

You cannot comprehend what the girl is saying, but it looks like she is scolding you for reasons probably way beyond your understanding. But from somewhere, you have an epiphany, a bolt of intelligence bestows itself upon you, and you suddenly realise that you can actually understand exactly what the girl is saying. 

She is scolding you for having entered her room, and in the process, having put your life at risk. And the whole time, when you thought that she was preventing you from entering her room so that it would be more challenging a task, what she actually was doing was trying to save your life. For she knew, that once you enter her room, you wouldn't be able to escape the fan's vortex, and that she would have to perform your final rites.  And that hurts her. You naively ask why. It is because although the pattern on your wings look like a pair of the most beautiful eyes there can ever be, you wouldn't live long enough to be the object of her admiration, if you happen to make the mistake of entering her room. Alas, that is a mistake you made, and it is a little too late.

But now, long after you are gone, she keeps a photo of you close to her heart, nevertheless, as a souvenir, as a symbol of something that made her experience an emotion she never felt before. And you shall never know how or what that emotion feels like, for a photo is all that remains of you... 

DDLJ for real

I am a staunch believer in the fact that what we see in movies, is far from reality. I might hear a few sarcastic remarks, for instance, "Oh, What a genius!", from the other end of my screen after someone having read the first line. But think about it for a second. What we do see, did actually have it's inception rooted somewhere in reality. Having said that, the reality I am talking about could have been inside someone's imagination. And we all live in our own little realities, each independent from the other. What is strange is that haw conveniently, we dismiss this aspect of reality. But then again, let's not get into technicalities of sentiments.

What I want to talk about today, rather type about today, is about a movie, that by itself, was, and is a revolution in it's own right. And to be frank, the movie has turned into a cliché of sorts. And the movie is called Dilwaale Dulhaniya Le Jaenge, DDLJ for sake of convenience. Do not worry. I am not jobless enough to dissect the movie at the altar of joblessness. But I shall do so to one particular scene of the movie. Well, maybe,  I am a little jobless. Just a little. 

I consider myself a passionate movie watcher, a connoisseur, if I were to use a fancy word. You do turn into one regardless of who you are, where you come from, if you happen to get into an engineering college. But if I am to stack myself against someone who IS passionate about his movies, I would, in all likelihood look like a cinematic idiot. The reason why I say that is because, it was not until recently that I saw DDLJ. And if you are an Indian, existing on earth for more than 2 decades without watching DDLJ is a felony, regardless of your liking/revulsion to movies. 

The scene from DDLJ I want to talk about is the one where Kajol is about to board her train back to London, or where ever it is that she was going back to, and Shah Rukh goes to see her off. Yes, I am talking about the "Palat..... Palat" scene. I am not a huge fan of corny movies, but this scene was the one that kept me glued to my seat.

Let me describe the scene to you, just in the remotest case you haven't watched the movie yet. The guy and the lady are parting ways. Le Guy has feelings for the  lady. So when the lady is in the process of walking to her train, the guy stands watching her go. He says (translation)"If she loves me back, she'll turn back and look.". And then, he stands in anticipation. "Palat.... Palat.........Palat.......".

"पलट गई , ताउ!!"(Goodness, gracious!! She looked back!!) 

Trust me, there wouldn't be a happier moment in a guy's life than when this girl he is waiting for, turns and looks for his whereabouts.  And also trust me that the scene playing in the guy's head will, and can only be the "Palat" scene from DDLJ. There's just one last thing you need to trust me on. When a guy waits for a girl walking away, to turn around and look, something inside him tells that the lady will turn around. All he wants is the manifestation of his reality. Mind you, I do not intend to be cocky or arrogant about this last bit I just mentioned. 

There is something so intense about every step the lady takes that exponentially increases the space-time continuum between you and the lady. I don't know if it is a trick your mind plays with you, or is it reality. The only thing you know, you want to do is to somehow, telepathically hold her exactly where she stepped foot last. Actually, you simply want time to stop. And it is getting increasingly difficult to describe what you want as a guy in those moments, as I have no clue. 

Then magically, the girl turns around. 

 I only wonder why all this happens in slow motion, even in reality. It's a mind-trick!! Your brains are screwing with you! Actually, they have been doing that the whole time, if you carefully analyse your predicament. But, again, if the lady turns, the agony is probably worth it. That was all about the story from Mars. 

Let me try and fathom what it is that goes on on Venus. And I just had a blackout. Goodness! What happens on Venus? Huh? I'm going nowhere! Somebody help me!

You know what? I have a feeling that everyone knows exactly goes on in a lady's head as well as they know what goes on in a guy's head. We just want to wrap everything in a blanket of denial and mysticism. And mind you, if that was part of the plan, it is SO completely working! And so, I quote, "Nobody panics when things go according to the plan.".

I wonder what makes the lady turn. Obviously, the fellow has done something. Or maybe not. Who knows? I, for some reason cannot stop thinking about the lady walking away. When I run my tape in a loop, I do notice the lady's stride being a lot slower than her usual speed. Maybe part of her doesn't want to walk. Maybe part of her wants to walk. Maybe, just maybe, part of her wants to turn around and run to the stupid bum. Also, maybe, part of her mind has no clue what to do. And you know what she does? She turns around. Stops. Sees the guy, turns around again, walks slower than ever, stops, turns around, and then, everything sounds like white noise. And then she realises that this was only going on in her head, while she was walking ahead the whole time. 

Phew! Too much confusion!

By now, the chap has almost started shouting the word "Palat" at the top of his lungs, so loud that the lady can hear him say the word. So, out of frustrationtion, she turns and looks behind, just to tell him to stop repeating the word over and over again. BIG MISTAKE...

Stupid lady! She actually gave the bum exactly what the bum was waiting for. And then, the DDLJ track starts playing on the mandolin in the guy's head. May the lord bless the lady...

Amen!

From the darkest corners of our minds, spring the thoughts that leave us most bewildered. 

Imagine, you are sitting in the middle of an ongoing lecture. The teacher is boring the brains out of your head with the biggest drill-bit he has. And all of a sudden, you stand up and start dancing in the class. And just to add to the fun of it, every one of your classmate joins you.

Now consider another situation. 

There's a mind-numbingly beautiful lady walking in your direction. You look into each other's eyes, stand transfixed for a second, and have the most spontaneous kiss on the planet ever! And again, to add to the fun factor, let us assume there was no follow-up slapping. 

What if you could just tell exactly what is there in your mind to whoever it is you want to tell, and the consequence wouldn't matter? From the little more than 2 decade experience that I have had on this lovely planet, I do know for a fact that there are virtually no consequences to wearing your thoughts on your sleeve. 

Something very strange happened today. Actually, it is still happening as I write this. I get a feeling that time I have remaining on this ground, above which I stand right now, is not going to last too long. I told this to a close friend. He just told me one thing. "Dude, don't kill yourself!". Herein lies the problem. The problem is that I am not the best communicator, with neither written, nor spoken words, by a fucking long shot. So, I am not too sure of the impression I left on this friend of mine. 

I don't know how to convey the restlessness I am going through. 

Even as I write this, I have no idea how these words might resonate inside another person's head. Of course, I know what I feel inside. But to someone reading this, it will be like watching a stone lying on the ground. The stone might be screaming at the top of it's voice inside somewhere. But sadly, to no avail. I'll try to make my words as palpable as possible. 

I happened to stumble upon a video where a bunch of chaps went around asking men of all age groups if they would marry Sunny Leone. To many of us, the very thought might sound preposterous. Even disgusting to a few. What is surprising is that all the people who were reluctant to go with the decision of marrying Sunny Leone(given the choice i.e.) mentioned something very thought provoking. All, in some way or the other, brought in the standard "What will people think?" excuse. It was either family, friends, or the friendly neighbours objecting to the decision that the blokes being interviewed, were concerned about. Marrying Sunny Leone too extreme? I sure hope not! 

But just imagine! If a fellow happens to decide that he wants to marry Sunny Leone(with the understanding that Sunny Leone is willing to marry the fellow), and the chap goes and tells his parents about his wish, I am pretty sure that the bloke's father's eyes will turn bulging red, and surely one can imagine the rest that is about to follow. 

Chuck the example above. I'll be really honest. I am just scared of dying without having told few people how strong and wild my thoughts are for them. And now, I hope my father doesn't have the time to read this. Because the first person in the list of people I have, whom I think I will be unable to tell everything I feel for them before it's too late, is Dad, for sure. It is like a lot of shit held inside, man! I feel constipated just thinking about it.

About the rest of the folks who are fortunate enough to have made it to the list, I have virtually spent hours trying to tell them what I think about, only to remain a pussy throughout the duration of the conversation. I have said everything to them in the process of circumventing from the main agenda. And it sucks. 

I wonder what makes us afraid at the sight of exactly what we want. What we want, comes gift-wrapped to us, as if Santa really exists, and we just let it go for some god forsaken reason. 

Just today, it was raining outside. I remembered someone, someone who the rains remind me of. And I know that I sound too poetic here. For the time I was looking out of the window, all I wanted was to hold this creature as tight as I could and bloody well never let go! Now, I feel stupid as hell for having let my scandalous thoughts leak out. But I am a shameless son of a gun. So moving on... 

Strange, isn't it, that the the body that carries our thoughts is merely a sack of chemicals?

I am sure you have watched motivational videos on Youtube, the ones with music that gives you goosebumps! You would have also felt the weaning away of all the endorphins and adrenaline within moments of the video getting over. But while the video is running, it feels like even flying ain't impossible! And mind you, try doing pull-ups or push-ups while the chemical rush lasts. It works like a dream! You'll easily surpass your highest number of repetitions by a huge margin! I just wish to find a way to keep that effect prolonged. This is exactly where I feel that there is a higher sense we can move into where we loose all our inhibitions about everything. There is a state where you can do exactly what you want, where boundaries don't exist, where there is no malice, where everything is acceptable, and no one minds. Someone might suggest something like "Fill the earth's atmosphere with weed!" or something. You never know frankly. Anything, as long as it works. 

The strange part is that place where we all can be in that state of open-mindedness, is right here, right where we stand. 

Again, I am flooded with a sense of shortage of time, a sense of inexplicable madness, and it leaves me restless more than ever. And to you, and to everyone that this piece of written work might reach, if you feel the same way as I do for some reason, we are headed for a place where the only thing we will be able to look back and say is "It's a trap!!".

A lady, long time ago, asked me to choose one superpower that I wish I'd have. Being a huge Batman fan then, even more so now, I did not have anything specific I wanted, because even as a kid, I knew Batman had no superpowers. But now, as I think about that question, rather, the question being the only thing I can think of, all I want is the balls to say and do exactly the things I want to without holding back an ounce of what I have within. And to be all the more honest, I wish this ability for each person that shall ever set foot onto this paradise. Okay, maybe not all of them.

On near-misses

A lot of professionals, each, veterans of their respective crafts, have written "On" a lot of things. For instance, Stephen King has written a book, his autobiography of sorts, called "On Writing". Zig Ziglar, one of the best salesmen of the 20th century, has written "On Selling". And if I go on to give more examples, the list would be endless. And to be honest, the fact is that I cannot recollect any more examples. But, the point I want to convey is that, once someone turns into a "Pro" in what one does, it looks like a worthwhile investment of time to write a book titled 

"On *whatever one's craft is*". 

If you are smart enough to see that 2+2=5, then, by now, you would have pieced together the title of this post and the gibberish in the previous paragraph. As a result, you would have also figured out what your dear future author is an expert at. 

So today, I am going to type to you about near-misses. And I shall specially focus on near misses in a social scenario. 

But first, i shall make it crystal clear as to what I mean by 'near-misses'. It is the situation where everything in the world conspires to unite you to your destiny of choice, and you magically manage to mess things up. And I, proudly claim to have mastered this magical ability. I also hope my father's never going to read this. Without digressing too much, I shall shift my focus to the social aspect of near misses. 

Ever been in a situation when you are walking toward an acquaintance, you wave at them, and they don't recognize you, and you have an "Oh, Shit!, What do I do!? What do I do!?" moment? There's another situation, where you wave at someone who looks like someone you know, but on closer inspection, turns out not to be the person you thought he/she was. And again, you're like "Oh, Shit!, What do I do!? What do I do!?".

These are situations you can laugh off, and write about later in life, while telling your story to a bunch of supposedly 'avid readers'.

But let's just take the "Oh, Shit!, What do I do!? What do I do!?" moment to the next level. 

The scene is set. 

You enter the scene. It is your college canteen. You go to the counter to place your order. It is the usual lady on the other side of the counter. You smile, she smiles, and you finally give her your order. Now, about the lady behind the counter....

She is a usual looking lady, the understated beautiful type. Her beauty doesn't jump at you screaming "You donkey! Can't you see I'm beautiful??!!"

But today, for some reason, she's looking really good! Perhaps, it is her off-white dress that did the trick. Goodness knows what it is that enhanced her looks, but whatever it is, has worked. And hence, you finally, after a wee bit of hesitation, decide to pay the lady behind the counter a compliment. So you turn to her, and say something like "Your dress colour really suits you"(in Malayalam). 

Two words. BAD TIMING.

While I was saying this out loud, she was in the process of turning her head to look for something. And all the words I blurted, that I had aimed at her ear, went and hit the wall behind her head. And no, the words didn't ricochet off walls to reach her ears. 

And I stood there hoping no one heard me. I was thinking to myself, "Oh, Shit!, What do I do!? What do I do!?"

See? perfect setting. Beautiful lady, bad-ass guy, nice lines, and still... AND STILL!! A BIG SCREW-UP!!!

Next time around, Timing is key. Check. 

Case Number 2.

There was a Durga Pooja in the college. And a very dear friend of mine was part of the organizing team. So as far as I was concerned, it was time to DANCE! My first time ever! And I bathed in my own sweat. Everything was going cool. I was about to break down after all the break-dance. Suddenly, from the corner of my field of vision, I saw a friendly acquaintance sitting silently, amidst all the noisy music. And my mom taught me to never leave a beautiful lady alone. No, mom never taught me that, but anyway. She is cute and everything, but, err (brain fart..) No clue what to type next....

So just to regain a bit of my energy, I felt it would be the perfect time to take a break. I walked up to and sat right next to her. We had the standard murmurs. And it was purely platonic. And I was getting bored. And like a dumb-ass, I said to myself "Let's get out of here." instead of telling the same to the lady next to me. *FACEPALM*!! Not that she was necessarily going to get up and do "Dhating Naach", but the odds of that happening, given the loud background score, was probably 50-50. What sucks is that..... I have no clue what sucked. Now that sucks. 

Wow! I sometimes wonder if I should let out such intimate details of my personal life in the public domain. But then again, who cares? I get to practice writing in the process, and some bloke gets free advice as to what not to do in life. And it all seems like I get a kick out of all the sadomasochism, which is obviously not the case. 

So until next time, hopefully, I shall be able to turn the tide around in my favour, and also be able to give a better account on what to do, as against what not to. Stay "tunn!"

Another moody day

I can really feel it right now already. Even before I touch the 20th word of my post, I know for a fact that I am having a massive mood swing. It feels like being strapped to the farthest end of a 20 meter long pendulum which itself is having a mood swing! It is extremely nauseating! On top of that, someone in the room next door is playing this shitty song from this movie called "Happy New year". It is called "Indiawaale". Heard that one? Hideous bloody song! Indiawaale? I guess Indians are gearing up for a race. The name of the race is "The country to bugger the Oxford dictionary the most WINS!". We already got "Jai Ho!" in, AND WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!. And despite the race being international, our folks will find a way to get quotas into this too. For instance, if we manage to put 10 words into the dictionary, 4 will be Hindi words, 2 will be Tamil, 2 will be Bihari, one Rajasthani, and one Assamese. And then there will be a fight over why the remaining 9999 languages did not get a shot at the quotas. Then the government will get hold of a huge supply of pacifiers to shut the trap of all the 'other-language' folks who are against Hindi being given preference. But the pacifiers will all be imported from the USA, for some reason. So all the proceeds from the un-discounted overpriced bulk order of pacifiers will go (not to charity) to the USA's kitty. The dollar will strengthen its stronghold on the Indian economy. Then there will be more brain-drain, because where companies in India recruit young workers like they are cheap labour, given the abundance of intelligence here,  spending a huge chunk of money to get a degree from abroad, then getting employed outside to get a bigger pay check, which in turn gives you a faster return on your initial investment, sounds like a decently lucrative option. And then one shall come back to India, carrying all of the faux-American accent, just to tell the relatives that "I went to Amreeka, where Laal mirch powder is Paprika!".

There's another thing I am pissed off with, even before I started kicking my mom's belly from the other side. It is one of the most unpleasant word on the planet. Pure waste of alphabets as a matter of fact! It is called MARKS. If there is one word in the whole set of all the words of all the languages known to mankind, that can completely terrorize every Indian, it has to be this word 'Marks'. 

The next most terrorizing thing is your neighbour playing the "Aashiqui 2" title song LOUD, and singing it at the same time! It is like a choir of terrorists when all the occupants of the next room sing this song! A bomb is just about to explode.. Any time now...

Oh my goodness! I am alive! Yes, of course! The chaps next door are engineers. That figures why the bomb they made didn't go off. Besides, yesterday was "Engineer's day". It was like a riot on social networking sites. No one had a clue what was happening! We have a day for everything. But one dedicated to engineers? Given the number of engineers in India, it just might become a national holiday.  

Coming back to MARKS.

I have unfortunately had to see perfectly happy folks turn into completely depressed creatures over marks. It is like a recursive loop. Your parents want you to get more marks. Why do things have to stop at 100? Apsara pencils came up with a perfect idea to quell this thirst for marks. "Extra marks for good handwriting." Nothing worth patenting, but a good idea never the less. Specially since no one actually got more marks. Some body must have recognized that it is purely a gimmick by Apsara to increase their sales. How the hell do you get more marks? By buying a new box of pencils? What a farce! The only case that ad would help anyone is if there are no pencils in someone's home. In that case, you might just get marks for having written something on the answer sheet. Now, that's the worst joke on the Apsara ad by a long shot. Here's hoping you got it.

Only in India can you sell your products by instilling fear/lust for marks. The parents completely buy it. They devour this shit!

I'll tell you my story for a change. When I was a kid, running around at kindergartens, there used to be this system of stars. The better you do your work, the more STARS you got in your notebook, on your answer sheets, and that sort of things. At home, my poor mom used to take lessons for me. She used to get really surprised, hopefully pleasantly, if I'd get all the questions correct. She must've been like "How did this retard get these right?". So anyway, just to make me happy, ans also to add a little variation to my star-lit notebooks, she started drawing rockets. I was like "Wow man! Chuck stars! Rockets are the next big thing. Dumb shit teachers!". And I was all happy with the stars, rockets and space travel. I almost felt like an astronaut! Had it gone any longer, I would have probably beaten Carl Sagan at finishing "The pale blue dot"!

But then, someone started 'marking' us for exams. No more outer space. Only Crash-landing. Head-First! Given that I used to pronounce "Take-off" as "Taefock", there was bound to be something wrong mid-flight. More on that some other time. 

And so flew 2 decades or so right in front of my eyes. And still, I see chaps crying. What they say while crying is still a puzzle to me, but it sounds like "hhhmmmmBubbyyyy!! I don't get marks!! Bhhhaaeeinnnnnnnn(cries)". I so badly hope that you, the reader have the mind capable of putting together what it is I am trying to tell you.

*** This is no attempt to dissuade you from your relentless pursuit of academic excellence. Just that in the 'rare' event that you are unable to attain your score, don't feel too disheartened. The world will be a no less better a place than it is already due to the absence of a Marks-monster.

Actually, if you come to think of things, why do we call these things 'marks'? "How many marks do you have?" The question seems to come straight out of a sadist who wants to whip your backside at the first chance he/she gets, so that you can get your 'marks'. 

And I am supposed to give a seminar tomorrow. Best part is that I don't even know the topic for the seminar. Now THAT's awesome!

The 'Maths' problem

My best ideas, or what I think are my best ideas, are the ones that pop up right before the date of an exam. For instance, I have an exam tomorrow morning, and I just came up with a brilliant idea of what I should write for the college magazine right now, while talking to my father. I am sure, that if I were in the toilet, taking a dump, while simultaneously talking to my father, the idea that you would have read, would have been much better than the one you are about to read. But never the less.....

Now, if you belong to a typical educated Indian household, there will be a few peculiarities that are common to most of us. Specially if you consider the order of importance of subjects we have in the school curriculum. Let's start from the top. The first subject that should ideally come to mind is... wait for it... wait for it... MATHEMATICS! If this wasn't the subject that came first to your mind, you.... probably sucked at studies in school. And mind you, those aren't my words. All Indian parents share that sentiment at some or the other level. 

If you go down a little further in the order of subjects of lesser importance, you will realize that the remaining subjects have virtually no relevance. So if the subjects were to be listed in order of importance, the list would look something like this.

1) Mathematics

2) Doesn't matter what subject

3) Doesn't matter what subject

4) Doesn't matter what subject

5) Doesn't matter what subject

6) Doesn't matter what subject

Now this is considering there are six subjects in your school curriculum. If the subjects vary according to location, feel free to 'do the math!'.

I am in the final year of graduation. So companies are swamping into my college(well, not exactly, but moving on) for campus recruitment. Here's a deal. There is a company that turned up. Their tagline went like this... "Do the math". And I was like *Facepalm*. That's how deeply rooted our unending obsession with Mathematics is. The only subject that can rival Mathematics in terms of favoritism is the Sciences. That too, I'm not too sure about Biology. Let's bash subjects one-by-one.

Starting with English- If you're good at it, all well and good. Apart from South-Bombay, that is all that remains of the British rule in India. Statistically, we are the second largest English speaking population. But then again, given our population, we shouldn't exactly be glorifying ourselves. A mere 10 percent of our population would outnumber that of many, many countries.

Coming back to the subject 'English', if you're brilliant at it and just above average at other subjects(read Mathematics), parents are going to be worried about you. 

"What are you going to do? You want to graduate in Arts? Beta(kid), you won't even jet a job that pays you Rs.10000 per month!"- Mother/ Father/ Some nut-relative

Now, let's turn to Social Studies, (infamously SST)- If you are good at it....

"Marks बड़े अच्छे लाए हो बेटा । Percentage बढ़ जाएगा तुम्हारा। पर काम के लिए क्या करने का इरादा है?" (Oh! Your score looks good in SST, kiddo! It will boost your overall percentage. But seriously, what are your plans as far as jobs are concerned?) And you go like *Facepalm*.

I shall not delve into other subjects, as things go from bad to worse. But just imagine, in case you are good at something like drawing/ music or creative stuff, the only caveat being that the remaining subjects look like alien languages to you, let alone Mathematics.... Oops! 

"I'm going nowhere! Somebody help me! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Stayin' alive!"

In my experience, neighbors have had rivalries  over the Math scores of their kids. Many a times, one of the mothers was mine. "बेटा , Maths में कितने नंबर आए ? ओह ! इतने कम कैसे आये, बेटा ? मेरे गोलू/मोलू /गांडू के तोह 100  में से 100  आये हैं। तुम जब चाहो तोह यहां आकर गोलू/मोलू/गांडू  के साथ पढ़ सकते हो, ठीक है?"

(Hey kid! How much did you get in Maths? Oh! So less? My son Golu/Molu*or-whatever-the-piece-of-shit's-name-is* got 100 on 100. You know what? Feel free to come over anytime you feel like studying Mathematics with my son.). And all this happens before your mother.

*Exit Neighbor*. 

*Your house door closes behind your back.*

 And somebody(Mom, usually) is giving you 'THE' look. And IN YOU MIND,.......YOU SAY.... Uh Oh. I'm so fucking DEAD! *Gulp*

"Mom, I'll study more next time"

I have absolutely nothing against Mathematics. Personally, I love Math.(**Many conditions apply!)

And honestly, I have had my share of screw-ups with the subject. So despite that I am not at all bad at the subject, I am not exactly the ace my parents think I am. But that's how things are in case you go to college far from home. The parents are perpetually under the impression that their kid is accomplishing a big deal, when in reality, "Meh!". Let's leave it at that. 

Here's how my conversation with my parents went today morning...

Mom: "You're all good, right, son?"

I: "Yeah, mom! I'm amazing. You tell."

Mom: "Nothing much. You study well. You're regular with your CAT(the stuff that gets you the IIMs if you work your pants off, just in case you're wondering) mathematics, right?"

I: "Yeah, mom! All going fine."(I probably didn't sound that convincing.)

And she was talking with the 'loudspeaker' mode 'On'.... My dad was sitting next to her!!!!

Mom: "You don't have Mathematics in your college curriculum anymore, no? Didn't you clear your backlog in Mathematics last semester?"

I:"No, mom. Yes mom."(WTF, mom??!!!)

My father was hearing all throughout. Suddenly I heard him say to her "He doesn't like Mathematics, or what??!"

You know the times when someone asks a question in such a threatening tone that the question sounds more rhetorical than worth answering? And you just nod/answer in a way that you can get out of your present predicament alive? This was going to be that situation.

*Somebody's gonna get hurt real bad*

Mom: "Okay, here you go. Talk to pappa."

And like that, Shit just hit the fan.

Dad: "Hey kid. What are you up to this fine morning??"

I: "Nothing, pappa. Just reading the newspaper. I'm going to study after that."

These are times you don't realize that you are going to be writing about this conversation for the next hour.

Dad: "All right, son. I'm driving. So, you do your Math properly. And yeah, take care."

I: "Okay, pappa. I'll call you in the evening." 

*Click*. Phew! I'm still alive! That calls for a toast! With omelette on top of it! 

I just remembered that I have an exam to prepare for, for tomorrow. How many hours do I have till the exam? I don't know. You do the Math!