He is famous....he is loved by millions.....he is chased by his fans......he has a fame that spreads across country borders.....
But at the end of the day he is human, one human who started from the scratch and struggled hard from the zero to today's super-stardom.
So, during some special moments, the moments, which are special for him also, he behaves like anyone of us....
After all, all these years of struggle and success hasn't changed him to a machine from human.
----------------
My reading hours have come down drastically from 2-3 hours per day to even 0 hours. All thanks to my laptop and the fact that I stay so close to office that I end up staying 14-15 hours at office on a regular day.
----------------
My 15 years old days have come back!!!! Those songs have come back to my life again. Thanks Amith :) ...thanks for the Fingertips Fair Collection....as I said before...u're my backup plan...thanks a lot :)
----------------
Are promises made to be broken? I had kept my first promise associated with this city...but the return promise was not kept....
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
Not Just another Day
As the cruel and cold hands of the clock took their positions, the shorter at 6 and the taller at 12, the clock shuddered with a squeak and started to shriek at the top of its voice. As if it was not enough to kill Siddhi’s innocent sleep; there was something more waiting for her that morning.
Still unable to open her eyes completely, and after successfully having taken the revenge on the clock by slipping it in the pit of silence—only until tomorrow morning, of course—Siddhi could realize that the day was not just like any other day. She could realize herself breathing out of her mouth and her nostrils were blocked and she was having an unbearable headache. She knew what lay ahead of her but was not really ready to face that.
Siddhi had shifted to Mumbai two months back. Getting selected for her dream job, fighting with her parents to relocate to Mumbai from Delhi and settling down comfortably in a PG in Andheri, just two kilometers away from her office, seems to be a distant dream to her now.
New city, new job and new accommodation kept Siddhi so busy, that she kept ignoring the fact that the pollution and tropical climate of Mumbai was causing trouble to her chronic sinusitis. But that day when she woke up with a stuffed nose, headache and fever, she knew that she couldn’t ignore it anymore and it was time for her to go to an ENT specialist.
‘Take a day off and go to a doctor,’ Siddhi told herself.
As she was getting ready to go to hospital, Siddhi suddenly felt very alone and she was upset for being so far away from her house. She missed her own room in her house, those cups of ginger-tea that her mother would prepare for her and her father taking her to doctor every time she suffered from such problems.
‘Grow up Siddhi! You are not a school girl anymore. Stop getting sentimental!’ she scolded herself hard and decided to cheer herself up by dressing up nicely.
‘Pamper yourself, dress up nicely and look good. You will always feel better,’ she remembered her mother’s golden words.
So here she was hunting for her favorite salwar-kameez, matching ear-rings and bangles in her still-unpacked duffle bag. And finally, Sidhhi wrapped herself in her favorite Pashmina shawl that she had got from Jammu on her last trip to Vaishno Devi.
‘Here you go pretty girl!’ she admired herself in the mirror and started feeling better.
As Siddhi was comforting her feverish body in the warmth of her beautiful Pashmina shawl, little did she know that the day still had some surprise in store for her!
Finding out the hospital was not difficult for Siddhi. Her PG mates had instructed her properly. With every passing day, she has started liking Mumbai. She laughed at herself that before coming to Mumbai, how she used think that every second person you bump on in Mumbai would be a filmstar or a gangster!
She got into the hospital and completed the registration process for the ENT specialist. The receptionist asked Siddhi to wait for half an hour, as the doctor was not in yet. She took a seat at the rear row of the sitting lounge and cast a lazy look at the patients and their friends and relatives scattered here and there in the lounge.
There was one more sitting area on the other side of the sitting lounge. There was something unusual there that caught Siddhi’s attention. She could see a very old man sitting in a wheel chair. There was a lady with him, ‘Might be his daughter,’ she thought.
‘He would be more than 90 years old,’ thought Siddhi.
Siddhi could see that the old man was shivering very badly as if he had Parkinson’s. The centralized air-conditioning of the hospital might have been hard on him. The old man seemed very sick and frail and the shivering attack was almost killing him. The lady next to him looked perplexed and helpless as she was rubbing the old man’s palms in a desperate attempt to give him some comfort!
‘The old man needs something warm to wrap himself in immediately.....may be a shawl…..what if he collapses now......I have a shawl..... I won’t die without it.......but it’s my favorite shawl.....what should I do?’—all these thoughts kept cluttering Siddhi’s mind.
She decided something in her mind. Siddhi slowly took off her shawl and started walking towards the old man.
‘Excuse me,’ she told the lady with the old man.
‘Yes?’ the lady replied with a question in her face.
‘Please take this shawl and wrap him up. He’s shivering badly,’ Siddhi told her. That lady took the shawl without any word and hurriedly wrapped the old man with it. The shawl was still warm with Siddhi’s body heat. The comfort that the old man felt was visible on his face. He smiled back at Siddhi.
The hospital reception was calling Siddhi’s name for the doctor visit. The doctor had just arrived. As Siddhi started walking toward the doctor’s chamber, she knew that the she wouldn’t get her shawl back but surprisingly, she didn’t feel bad. On the contrary, she was feeling very good!
Siddhi could feel her blocked nose opening up and her headache going down slowly. Surely, it was not just another day in her life.
Note: This is a true story with some exaggeration! The fist part of the story is my imagination and last part of the story is my sister's story. I had written this story to participate in a story-writing competition in my office.
Still unable to open her eyes completely, and after successfully having taken the revenge on the clock by slipping it in the pit of silence—only until tomorrow morning, of course—Siddhi could realize that the day was not just like any other day. She could realize herself breathing out of her mouth and her nostrils were blocked and she was having an unbearable headache. She knew what lay ahead of her but was not really ready to face that.
Siddhi had shifted to Mumbai two months back. Getting selected for her dream job, fighting with her parents to relocate to Mumbai from Delhi and settling down comfortably in a PG in Andheri, just two kilometers away from her office, seems to be a distant dream to her now.
New city, new job and new accommodation kept Siddhi so busy, that she kept ignoring the fact that the pollution and tropical climate of Mumbai was causing trouble to her chronic sinusitis. But that day when she woke up with a stuffed nose, headache and fever, she knew that she couldn’t ignore it anymore and it was time for her to go to an ENT specialist.
‘Take a day off and go to a doctor,’ Siddhi told herself.
As she was getting ready to go to hospital, Siddhi suddenly felt very alone and she was upset for being so far away from her house. She missed her own room in her house, those cups of ginger-tea that her mother would prepare for her and her father taking her to doctor every time she suffered from such problems.
‘Grow up Siddhi! You are not a school girl anymore. Stop getting sentimental!’ she scolded herself hard and decided to cheer herself up by dressing up nicely.
‘Pamper yourself, dress up nicely and look good. You will always feel better,’ she remembered her mother’s golden words.
So here she was hunting for her favorite salwar-kameez, matching ear-rings and bangles in her still-unpacked duffle bag. And finally, Sidhhi wrapped herself in her favorite Pashmina shawl that she had got from Jammu on her last trip to Vaishno Devi.
‘Here you go pretty girl!’ she admired herself in the mirror and started feeling better.
As Siddhi was comforting her feverish body in the warmth of her beautiful Pashmina shawl, little did she know that the day still had some surprise in store for her!
Finding out the hospital was not difficult for Siddhi. Her PG mates had instructed her properly. With every passing day, she has started liking Mumbai. She laughed at herself that before coming to Mumbai, how she used think that every second person you bump on in Mumbai would be a filmstar or a gangster!
She got into the hospital and completed the registration process for the ENT specialist. The receptionist asked Siddhi to wait for half an hour, as the doctor was not in yet. She took a seat at the rear row of the sitting lounge and cast a lazy look at the patients and their friends and relatives scattered here and there in the lounge.
There was one more sitting area on the other side of the sitting lounge. There was something unusual there that caught Siddhi’s attention. She could see a very old man sitting in a wheel chair. There was a lady with him, ‘Might be his daughter,’ she thought.
‘He would be more than 90 years old,’ thought Siddhi.
Siddhi could see that the old man was shivering very badly as if he had Parkinson’s. The centralized air-conditioning of the hospital might have been hard on him. The old man seemed very sick and frail and the shivering attack was almost killing him. The lady next to him looked perplexed and helpless as she was rubbing the old man’s palms in a desperate attempt to give him some comfort!
‘The old man needs something warm to wrap himself in immediately.....may be a shawl…..what if he collapses now......I have a shawl..... I won’t die without it.......but it’s my favorite shawl.....what should I do?’—all these thoughts kept cluttering Siddhi’s mind.
She decided something in her mind. Siddhi slowly took off her shawl and started walking towards the old man.
‘Excuse me,’ she told the lady with the old man.
‘Yes?’ the lady replied with a question in her face.
‘Please take this shawl and wrap him up. He’s shivering badly,’ Siddhi told her. That lady took the shawl without any word and hurriedly wrapped the old man with it. The shawl was still warm with Siddhi’s body heat. The comfort that the old man felt was visible on his face. He smiled back at Siddhi.
The hospital reception was calling Siddhi’s name for the doctor visit. The doctor had just arrived. As Siddhi started walking toward the doctor’s chamber, she knew that the she wouldn’t get her shawl back but surprisingly, she didn’t feel bad. On the contrary, she was feeling very good!
Siddhi could feel her blocked nose opening up and her headache going down slowly. Surely, it was not just another day in her life.
Note: This is a true story with some exaggeration! The fist part of the story is my imagination and last part of the story is my sister's story. I had written this story to participate in a story-writing competition in my office.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Story vs Story-telling
While watching a movie, ever felt like that the movie shouldn't end? I felt the same while watching Dhobi Ghat. I felt like watching some more days of those characters....reading some more pages of the Mumbai Diary...
But unfortunately most people go to see a movie to see the story.....many people don't understand that more than the story, the way of story telling is more important in a movie. So, when I was about to watch Dhobi Ghat, my room mate said that she and all her friends hated the movie and they didn't understand the story and she warned me not to watch it. But after I had finished watching the movie, when I said that I loved it, she was looking at me as if am an alien and told me 'I think you should get your brain checked'. So I told her that this movie is for a niche audience and I fall in that niche like many others who loved watching Dhobi Ghat like my brother and sister. She seemed a little pacified.
It's difficult for me to explain why I liked the movie, except for the technical aspects like editing and amazing sound engineering, but I liked the way the story was told here, since I believe that the way of story telling is more important than the story itself. And when the way of story telling is not dependent on the story itself, the movie watching becomes as delightful as this.
For example, the way of story telling in Dhobi Ghat is so unique and so much independent from it's story and the characters within, that you can actually fit ANY movie story in this format and present it. It's amazing, it's like a variable that can take the form of any value.
And more importantly, the story is also something which has no fixed beginning or fixed ending. The typical Yash Chopra, Karan Johar or Farah Khan pattern of story telling would have killed the story.
Few other movies that I can think of right now whose story-telling was unique and flexible enough to be treated as variable are - Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi, Jab we Met and Andaz apna Apna.
But unfortunately most people go to see a movie to see the story.....many people don't understand that more than the story, the way of story telling is more important in a movie. So, when I was about to watch Dhobi Ghat, my room mate said that she and all her friends hated the movie and they didn't understand the story and she warned me not to watch it. But after I had finished watching the movie, when I said that I loved it, she was looking at me as if am an alien and told me 'I think you should get your brain checked'. So I told her that this movie is for a niche audience and I fall in that niche like many others who loved watching Dhobi Ghat like my brother and sister. She seemed a little pacified.
It's difficult for me to explain why I liked the movie, except for the technical aspects like editing and amazing sound engineering, but I liked the way the story was told here, since I believe that the way of story telling is more important than the story itself. And when the way of story telling is not dependent on the story itself, the movie watching becomes as delightful as this.
For example, the way of story telling in Dhobi Ghat is so unique and so much independent from it's story and the characters within, that you can actually fit ANY movie story in this format and present it. It's amazing, it's like a variable that can take the form of any value.
And more importantly, the story is also something which has no fixed beginning or fixed ending. The typical Yash Chopra, Karan Johar or Farah Khan pattern of story telling would have killed the story.
Few other movies that I can think of right now whose story-telling was unique and flexible enough to be treated as variable are - Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi, Jab we Met and Andaz apna Apna.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Beg Borrow Steal
All the three attributes listed above are bad attributes of people.
But we do beg for various things to our very near-ones like parents, siblings, spouse or best friends. But what about begging for extra starter items, which caterers bear all through the party venue, in a typical Delhi buffet party? How cheap is that?
But we do borrow things from our very closed ones when we need to attend some function and we realize that we don't have good clothes. But what if somebody borrows clothes for marriage....for his OWN marriage? How cheap is that?
But we do steal those cake pieces and sweets from the fridge when mom is not around. But what about stealing tissue paper rolls from the office toilet or stealing towels from the Rajdhani Express train? How cheap is that?
From the childhood our parents teach us about morality, honesty and other such qualities. I always used to think that all kids are being raised with the same teaching in their respective houses. But I am wrong. There are parents who teach their daughter how to keep her husband under her control like a pet, they teach their daughter how to tell lies swiftly to their in-laws so that she can fool them, there are parents who appreciate their son when he comes home with a stolen good from office or Rajdhani Express train, there are parents who teach their son how to be fraudulent to deceive someone. They teach their children how to be a fraud, a liar, a thief, a dishonest mother and a bad person. How cheap is that?
But we do beg for various things to our very near-ones like parents, siblings, spouse or best friends. But what about begging for extra starter items, which caterers bear all through the party venue, in a typical Delhi buffet party? How cheap is that?
But we do borrow things from our very closed ones when we need to attend some function and we realize that we don't have good clothes. But what if somebody borrows clothes for marriage....for his OWN marriage? How cheap is that?
But we do steal those cake pieces and sweets from the fridge when mom is not around. But what about stealing tissue paper rolls from the office toilet or stealing towels from the Rajdhani Express train? How cheap is that?
From the childhood our parents teach us about morality, honesty and other such qualities. I always used to think that all kids are being raised with the same teaching in their respective houses. But I am wrong. There are parents who teach their daughter how to keep her husband under her control like a pet, they teach their daughter how to tell lies swiftly to their in-laws so that she can fool them, there are parents who appreciate their son when he comes home with a stolen good from office or Rajdhani Express train, there are parents who teach their son how to be fraudulent to deceive someone. They teach their children how to be a fraud, a liar, a thief, a dishonest mother and a bad person. How cheap is that?
Thursday, January 19, 2012
I practice Pedagogy!!!
"Pedagogy is the study of being a teacher or the process of teaching. The term generally refers to strategies of instruction, or a style of instruction. Pedagogy is also occasionally referred to as the correct use of instructive strategies." - wikipedia.
That's my work, that's my job but I never knew about this term. Sounds interesting.
If you want to read more, visit the following link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pedagogy
That's my work, that's my job but I never knew about this term. Sounds interesting.
If you want to read more, visit the following link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pedagogy
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Office Office
They say “This is not just another run of the mill project. This is different. So, you guys need to gear up and walk that extra mile to deliver the best product”
But they say this for every course I work on. Where are these run of the mill courses made? I want to work for one....that'll be relaxing I assume.
-------
I know winning a spot award is no big deal. But I am happy for having won one :). But more than that, I am happy to receive those Shopper’s Stop vouchers. I know I would have never visited that unreasonably expensive shop to buy anything unless I had those vouchers.
-------
Every day habit of swiping the identity card innumerable times has gone to my head to that extent that some days back instead of pressing the doorbell at home, I was looking for my identity card to swipe and open the door!!!!!!!
-------
Those days and late nights of work are back when I forget the entire world and get glued to my system. I came to know that I love this when I didn’t have this. I love it and I enjoy it.
-------
The ink in my pen is over. I am damn happy. After a long time I have the pen with me long enough to run short of its ink!
-------
My friend had got a brand new collection of Salil Chaudhury’s songs from Kolkata, on my request, and she handed it over to me in office. I was jumping with joy! That was the time when I was having crazy hours at office leaving every day after 11pm. That day also when I was leaving at the 11th hour to catch my 11pm cab, the security stopped me, and found the CD inside my bag and CONFISCATED it!!! I was awestruck but didn’t have time to get into any conversation as I was getting late for my cab. The next day when I went to meet the duty manager, he said that they would check the CD and if they find it blank, they’ll return it to me and if they find any data in the CD, they would break it. Almost in a breathless condition I asked “what if there is music in the CD?”, “We’ll break it”, he said coolly!!!!
I didn't know what to do. I spoke to my manager, team lead and everybody said that this is unfair but this is the company policy. Big thanks to my friend Chandrima, who actually got the CD from Kolkata, somehow convinced those stone heads and they agreed to return my CDs. A lesson is learnt and now I submit even the Flipkart parcel also at the reception if it contains CDs.
But they say this for every course I work on. Where are these run of the mill courses made? I want to work for one....that'll be relaxing I assume.
-------
I know winning a spot award is no big deal. But I am happy for having won one :). But more than that, I am happy to receive those Shopper’s Stop vouchers. I know I would have never visited that unreasonably expensive shop to buy anything unless I had those vouchers.
-------
Every day habit of swiping the identity card innumerable times has gone to my head to that extent that some days back instead of pressing the doorbell at home, I was looking for my identity card to swipe and open the door!!!!!!!
-------
Those days and late nights of work are back when I forget the entire world and get glued to my system. I came to know that I love this when I didn’t have this. I love it and I enjoy it.
-------
The ink in my pen is over. I am damn happy. After a long time I have the pen with me long enough to run short of its ink!
-------
My friend had got a brand new collection of Salil Chaudhury’s songs from Kolkata, on my request, and she handed it over to me in office. I was jumping with joy! That was the time when I was having crazy hours at office leaving every day after 11pm. That day also when I was leaving at the 11th hour to catch my 11pm cab, the security stopped me, and found the CD inside my bag and CONFISCATED it!!! I was awestruck but didn’t have time to get into any conversation as I was getting late for my cab. The next day when I went to meet the duty manager, he said that they would check the CD and if they find it blank, they’ll return it to me and if they find any data in the CD, they would break it. Almost in a breathless condition I asked “what if there is music in the CD?”, “We’ll break it”, he said coolly!!!!
I didn't know what to do. I spoke to my manager, team lead and everybody said that this is unfair but this is the company policy. Big thanks to my friend Chandrima, who actually got the CD from Kolkata, somehow convinced those stone heads and they agreed to return my CDs. A lesson is learnt and now I submit even the Flipkart parcel also at the reception if it contains CDs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)