Are twins God's mistakes?

Was just wondering about this the other day. You know how people keep telling you that you are unique just like everyone else? That there is something about you that is specific to only you, that sets you apart from the rest? That God has made you this way that there is something about you that defines you.

What happens to twins then? Are they God's mistakes? If every one of us is one of a kind, what wrong did the twins do? Of course I am attributing uniqueness to appearance, but well, it is a well-known fact that twins often tend to have similar liking and disliking for stuff. In such a scenario, are twins then forfeited the right to be unique just because they were born together? And if that is true, then why do we consider twins special?

Or is it that being twins is the something that sets them apart from the rest? But what about each other? In fact, come to think of it, does the whole 'uniqueness' concept even matter? Or rather, is it even important? If man is a social animal, and he spends more than half his life trying to blend in, then why on earth would he want to seem different?

Are we generally different people who co-exist out of need? Or are we generally similar people who co-exist in spite of our differences?

Flirt in Hindi

Well...this was a really 'intellectual' discussion that we had at the dining table. When I come to think of it, good thoughts always follow good food. That is the universal truth of this world. Believe it or not. And it is these conversations, that have always been enriching...to the mind...to the soul...and in this case...to the funny bone.

This happened at my aunt's place...after a hearty and fulfilling meal of some of the tastiest dishes I've had so far. My uncle, who is an English teacher...a very good one at that, started with the question, "The other day when I was talking to a friend of mine, we got stuck trying to understand what word describes flirt in Hindi. Do you have any idea?"

Now coming from him, it seemed like a big deal, after all, he was the English Guru. If he didn't know, who else would? Us? The Hinglish generation? Jack of all 'languages' and masters of none? Apart from yours truly (studied in convents, got a B.E. followed by an MBA), I had my sister (convent + B.E.), my cousin sister (convent, B.Sc.,M.A.) from our generation. And then there were the elders, two and a half couples in all, two pairs of aunts and uncles and my father. One of the uncles, of course, was the man who jolted us up with the burning issue,"How do you say flirt in Hindi?"

Well, we started with the usual evading the answer, followed by making really dumb guesses, like, "ghumana (taking a person around)", "rijhaana (entice)", "nain matakka","chakkar chalaana (trying to get someone laid?-could be something better)"..and well, that's the closest we got. But, none, as you might have understood, if you know Hindi, qualified to be called 'flirt'.

That is when it hit us. You can't flirt in Hindi. And once this statement was made, we all broke into peals of laughter. How did this not strike us earlier?  You can only do so much in your language, and apparently, you cannot flirt in Hindi, it is a very 'English' act. And this being true, if in all your life, you have flirted with any person on earth, you have my dear friend, been English. :)

Forbidden Fruit

What is it with us? By us I mean people...all of us...why is it that we secretly want to do everything that is called wrong? Why do we categorize everything as right or wrong? And how did we get about it? Did we just decide that everything that is fun becomes wrong automatically? And if that's how it is, why is it so much fun? Yeah you know what I mean. Think of the time when you were overloaded with work and you instead took a detour and browsed the net? The time when you knew something you'd say would snowball into something really really bad...and you said it anyway. The time when you knew you weren't supposed to eat that pastry because you knew it would break your 10-day no sweets vow. Why are we like this? I had a cousin who when she was 3 years old, tore a Rs. 500 note coz everyone told her not to.

What is it with us? Why is it, that the instant that something is banned, or stopped or made illegal, we want it...we want it like we never wanted anything ever before? What is this craving for...I don't even know what to call it? Craving for wrong-doing? Craving for just...no idea what.

What do we do to fix this? In fact, does it even need fixing? There are so many questions. Or is it just one of those questions? The ones that have no answers? Or that they are not even questions?

The whole story about Eve about wanting the fruit, because it was forbidden. Why are we always tempted to do wrong? What drives us to it? Are we inherently bad people doing good things? Or are we inherently bad people being forced to be good? What is it that we fear? Do we fear anything for that matter? Everything around the world is culminating. Everything is shrinking into one. Borders are vanishing, people are getting closer everyday. The idea behind this is that the boundaries of right and wrong are growing smaller and smaller every day. We are beginning to realize that what may be saint to one person, may be another's demon but that they both co-exist, often in the same person.

In such a world, what do we categorize as right, and wrong? Or is it just our universal 'thirst' of being restless. Of trying something new? Of being something new? Of doing something different? And if that is the case, why don't we just let go? When does it truly become wrong? Why is it that the alleged wrong-doers come together by a bond so strong that no right-doer (if that's a word), can have?

Wish there was a way to know...

Things that make me happy

It's been a while...quite a while actually since I wrote, and not because I wasn't thinking about it...its just that...I was being plain lazy. Can't call it writer's block just yet, haven't been writing as much, have I?

Anyway, focus! Have been feeling really blue these days, and have no idea why. Actually I do have quite the idea, but well, if something's being bothering you for a very long while, does it still qualify as the reason when it has been, well, forever. It definitely feels like forever to me. I lost my mother, and the fact is, I can't get over it. I don't think I ever will. It's like, a part of me, a really important part of me...or rather, the most important part of my being, is gone. Just like that. No byes, no last words, no nothing. She was just gone. The past one year and two months have been a nightmare. And it didn't help that my life went through so many changes all at the same time. To be very precise, I think the past year was a whirlpool. I accomplished the most important thing in my life (my MBA), my sister got married, I started to get chummy with my father...well some things just never change, but ya, he and I started to get to know each other all over again. And it wasn't easy, at all! So now, the state I often find myself in, is confused. When I am enjoying I feel guilty about it, when I'm not I'm thinking about ways to lighten myself up. I really don't know what I want anymore! I remember being really passionate about every little thing. Now, I don't know who I am. And Mummy's death has also made me realize, life ends, just like that, so I'd better live it to the fullest, before my time comes.

So here goes, the first bit, to figure out, my favourite things:-
1. Watching plants grow from teeny tiny seeds to well, plants
2. Buds blossoming into flowers
3. Learning something new
4. Solving puzzles et al that come in the paper everyday
5. Cooking something new, specially baking
6. Talking to someone who makes me laugh
7. Solving a tough problem
8. Sitting on a beach watching the sun set
9. Talking to a total stranger
10. Trying a different dish
11. Reading a book
12. Going through old photographs and cards

Will add things as and when I think of them. But so far, it seems I have it covered. At least, I won't die with the regret that I didn't do any of my favourite things. Next time, my wishlist.

ACs and farts

Yes you read it right. I am talking about both ACs and farts and that too at the same time. Why? Well, with India prospering over the years and global warming and things to that effect, ACs are being put almost every damn where. And well, Indian lifestyle is strictly not conducive to the AC environment at all. Have you seen the food we Indians eat? There is at least one item that is either deep fried or flatulent. Don’t believe me? Okay, let’s start from the extreme north. Kashmir - staple food – rice, property – gassy, same goes for all of South India, North East and East. What’s left, West – think Rajasthan, Gujarat et al – most of the food there is deep fried and has loads of ghee et al. The best bet could probably be Maharashtra but think of ussal, vada pav etc and you know what I’m talking about.

Now that we have established that our eating habits are not necessarily the most helpful to the alimentary canal, answer me this. What happens when you eat? Well, gas. And what do you do when someone has really farted stale onion and garlic? The first instinct would be to close your nose. What do you do when it is still too strong? Well, you open all windows. What happens in an AC? You die.

And that my dear friends, is why ACs are not the best thing in India. We are way too many people and there is way too little space for any of those wonderful smells to go out. So we either reduce the population (ha ha) or make some arrangement through which we can open the windows time and again. 

The Stalker

Over the years, I’ve witnessed various kinds of stalkers starting from school to college to work. This post is dedicated to all of them, rather to the kind that I have come across so far, yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking…what the hell is wrong with me to have enough stalkers to be able to actually write an article on them, well, let me tell you, its no biggie. On an average, every girl comes across at least three stalkers (a statistical average estimated by some random research someplace –btw, did you know that 90% of statistics are made up on the spot? :D ) and well, this post just might help another poor soul figure out what’s going on.

The Crazy Stalker – Well it may sound ironic but not all stalkers are crazy. True Story. Anyway, we’ll move on to the sane ones in a while, right now, the crazy. This is an anti-social element. You would never ever see him socializing with anyone ever. He will be the lone ranger. The K-k-k Kiran kinds (remember Darr?) Mostly, you wouldn’t even know such a person exists until you find him staring down at you once in a while which of course you would make nothing of. But with time, it would get worse. There’s this creepy feeling that there are somebody’s eyes following you, all the time! A weird queasy feeling will come over you and whenever you’ll turn to figure out why its happening you will see that same person looking at you with the same stony glare, not budging, not moving, not even breathing! And you think to yourself that this cant be right, until one fine day you get a call. And you have no idea who this is coz the person doesn’t own up. It starts with blank calls which are increase in frequency to upto 40 calls a day, slowly modifying to one-liners in which the crazy guy starts saying creepy things in this scary, husky Indiana Jones voice. By this time the best thing to do would be to stop answering the phone altogether, except, the person would now start targetting your friends, especially guys. They would be threatened to stay away from you and if this command is not followed, they would have to suffer dire consequences. I know I almost lost two friends due to this weird guy until we figured out who he was.

What to do when you have a crazy stalker – Never ever go out alone, this person can be dangerous. Do NOT answer calls from unknown numbers. Most of these people bank on the attention they get, if they don’t get any, they stop bothering you. Remember, even if you try to scold them, it will edge them on.

The Silent Stalker – This is a comparatively better category that the crazy. To start with, this guy would almost never ever come out in the open. He might have a shrine in your name in the deepest dungeon of his house, but he will never bother you. He will just be on the lookout for you at all times and you will see him almost every place you go to with amazing precision. So much so you just might notice him and say ‘hi’ once in a while and tell him how it is weird that you people see each other almost everywhere. This would actually scare the guy to his death and he would then vanish for a couple of days waiting for you to forget about him, seething in agony because he is really miserable all the while. In due course of time he will get back to his original schedule and well, you know better than to talk to him anymore. As and when the duration of your course gets over, he will vanish from your sight, probably stalk you a little bit on FB until he finds his new ‘love interest’.

What to do when you have a silent stalker – Nothing, he will vanish with time.

The Intellectual Stalker – This is actually a very interesting kind and well, you should actually feel honored to have such a stalker. Unlike the silent guy, this guy will never show himself to you, ever. In fact, sometimes, it would make you wonder if this really is a person or just a figment of your imagination. This guy likes being mysterious. But, he also wants to be noticed. He will somehow procure your number and text you messages which are really intellectual. Things about platonic love, things about completing each other, things about there is no real world, there is no such thing as desires, you get the idea right? He will often quote famous philosophers and you just might need a dictionary to decipher meaning of what he’s written, but when you figure it out you just might fall in love with the person. If you do, do it at your own peril. You have to understand that if he isn’t coming out in the open, it has to be for a reason. This person is actually too good to be true.

What to do when you have an intellectual stalker – Not too sure here. I did not reply to any of the messages he sent since I was already in a relationship with a real person but to this day I keep wondering what would have happened if I did.

The Confused Stalker – This is by far the most interesting stalker you can have. Its like being the focus of someone’s attention minus the craziness (almost). This person is an acquaintance who one day decided that today onwards I like this girl (hence the name). He starts like a silent stalker, trying to get the most of (seeing) you until all of a sudden he would make up his mind that he wants you to notice him too. Then he would start making it obvious that he is around you because he really finds you interesting. But when you do start noticing him making this effort, he will start to act nonchalant, as if you had it all in your head. Then suddenly he will shower you with compliments but then when you meet him the next time, he will act completely aloof and give you the cold shoulder, as if he doesn’t even know you. He will always try to be in your vicinity but will never talk to you, then there would be times when he will be really interested in talking to you. He has this weird love-hate thing going on in his head where he does and does not want to be with you all at the same time.

What to do when you have a confused stalker – You are basically a part of his plan of, well, I don’t know, staring at you or something and you are not supposed to ruin it by getting involved. Enjoy the attention while it lasts or just ignore the whole thing completely, this guy is harmless. 

Sweet Nothings

Falling in love, is a wonderful thing. The little things you do, the little things you say. Those stolen moments when you try to catch a glance of the one you're in love with. It is such a wonderful feeling. Lucky are those who get love. Today, I saw this movie called "The Magic of Ordinary Days" (Highly recommended by my quad mate, thank you :)). And, as the name suggests, it was a very very simple movie. No melodrama, no action sequences, no over-the-top scenes, no larger than life characters. Just the story of two people and how, without having known each other for a very long time, they developed this eternal bond.

A bond in which the guy, even though it pained him to realize that he was playing second fiddle to another, it was not enough for him to give up on the woman he loved, with all her bag and baggage. In fact, he understood her more than she understood herself. He made small changes for her, which would never even matter if you took a 'holistic' view, but at the same time, nothing mattered more.

They do little things for each other. Really little. Like making an omelette, getting the other's favourite book, waiting for them at the dinner table.

And that is what real love is about. It isn't about the initial adrenaline rush. It isn't about firsts. The first glance, the first time you talk, the first time you go out on a date. It is about finding little things, that may not be firsts, heck they could be really mundane, but there is far more meaning in getting these little things right than there is in falling in love for the first time.

Here's to the many little things to come....and more.

Train Journey - The PC Monitor

This was back when I was in college, II^nd year. My father had bought me a brand new PC, oh yes, back then PCs were ‘the’ things to have, this was before the whole mobile and laptop and tablet revolution you see. J

So where was I? Yea, the new PC. So for those who are not aware, a PC (Personal Computer), consists of three parts, the CPU, Monitor and rest of the parts (keyboard, mouse, speakers etc). Of these, the monitor and CPU have to be packed separately and consisted of two cartons of my luggage when I had to travel  back from Lucknow (my hometown) to Bhopal (where my college was). This was a 13 hour journey. Not too long you would say, well…read on.

I was supposed to board a Mumbai-bound train which started from Gorakhpur if I’m not mistaken, reached Lucknow around 12:30 at night and reached Bhopal at 1 o’clock in the afternoon the next day. So ideally, this was supposed to be a fun journey. All you had to do was get on board sleep through most of the journey and then wake up just about 2-3 hours before you reached. Well, that’s what I thought too! But I was sourly mistaken….

My parents had come to drop me off at the station and well, we were all very emotional because well, I was going. My Mum was on the verge of tears and Papa was trying hard not to show how sad he was. My sister was trying to make jokes about the whole matter, hoping it would lighten our mood. But all this lasted  only till the train came. After that, all hell broke loose!

Back then we used to travel by the sleeper coach mostly (students, remember?) and the best compartment used to be the ladies’ compartment, seats 1 to 6. It ensured that if nothing else, at least the company will be all female, we all know how safe it is for women in India. So well, getting back to the story, this time too, I had got my seat reserved in the ladies compartment. It was the upper, number 3 if I remember correctly. This compartment is right next to the coach entrance making it all the more convenient for me since I had a lot of luggage to get off when I reached Bhopal., or so I thought..

When the train started entering into the station, we were all really sad but only until we got to my coach. And the sight was scary! There were people literally oozing out of the coach in every possible direction, it looked just like the scene from Schinder’s List where the Jews are stacked together in trains and sent to concentration camps, the only difference in this case being, well, people had voluntarily got on board and had paid for this.

What is worse is that these were all villagers. Now I personally don’t have anything against any person from any area but I am very particular about hygiene, which if you are from India you’d realize is not a very big deal for these people. My coach in particular was filled with females, actually married females sleeping, one on each berth. No wait, let me finish. From each berth I could see tiny hands, legs and in some cases heads hanging out of the berth. Each of these females were sleeping with at least two kids and judging by the way the children were spread around them, these females were not the best mothers. As for any possible leg space, it was filled with their huge trunks which they were taking with them. Now the next question that came to my mind was, these don’t look like the kind of females who would travel alone all the way from Gorakhpur to Mumbai on their own, where are the macho males that are supposed to order them around. And well, my question was answered soon enough, there was one man sitting crouched on the lower berth with a haggard old lady, she was presumably the mother-in-law and this man was the husband for all the three females. So one seat was for the MIL and son, one each for the wives and their two-three children and in the other two seats were me and this equally shocked other female.

As for my PC, because there was no space for me to keep it under the seats as is the norm so I kept a lot of my luggage in my berth (thank God for the top berth) except for the monitor, which had to be kept down in the way since it was too huge for my berth. You would think this was the end of my travails but sadly, you are mistaken.

While my family saw me off really, really tense about the crowd and the people (they didn’t get sleep that night), I was bracing myself up for the journey. By the time everything was settled in and I finally lay down, crouched up due to the luggage on my seat, the haggard old lady who was sort of the head of the family took out this carry bag filled with halwa (halwa is something like tapioca pudding only a lot more oily and a little less gooey) and that is when my real struggle began. To start with, I could not figure out why a perso would even want to eat halwa at 2 o’ clock in the morning but well, probably her dear son asked for it. Dagnab him! So well, this oldie started feeding him with her very own hands, which would have been fine had she not gone ahead and tried the same thing with her other bahus (daughter-in-laws) who were fast asleep. She would force open their mouths and stuff some of the halwa and then close it again. Weirdness galore! And why was all this a torture for me? Well, she was reaching out to each one of them by stepping on my monitor! Oh, the horror! And what’s worse was that whenever I tried to shoo her away, she thought I was irked because I thought she was dirty. So she would go on like, “Nahi hua tumhara dubba gundaa.”(Your box didn’t get dirty.)

I tried everything from scaring her to telling her that it was a TV which might break but to no avail. As a result, I could not get a wink of sleep the whole night through since I would have to keep watch on the stupid woman standing on my monitor. Eventually I told her that she could keep stuff on it but not sit on it. this seemed to please her and my monitor now became her dining table, a small price to pay considering if she stood on it, I would anyway have had no monitor in the first place.

Towards the morning she had finally settled in and gone to sleep much to my relief. After jumping over a couple of villagers who were sleeping around on the ground, I finally managed to freshen up and managed to have a little something crouched up with my other luggage. But my, what a journey! The ladies while their mother in law was asleep tended to all their eight children who well created a real ruckus but well, I was way past caring by then, my monitor was safe.

By the way, my train reached two hours late and I almost wanted to kill myself by then. By the time I finally got off, I was all but insane. 

Things Professors say

Well, after an eight-year long hiatus I decided to go for my MBA. But, this post is not about me and how I adjusted to the place. This is about the awesome professors that I had and the funny things they said.

Take 1
The first incident was in one of those very technical classes, DMOP, where pretty much nobody understood anything, not because the professor couldn't teach well, he was really good btw, but because it was really really really hard core operations and it didn't make sense to most of us.

So, to keep us engaged, the professor tried to bring in a little bit of humour into the classes, hoping that it would help him understand if the students are atleast awake. So while going on with this process, he often cold called a few students. One such time he cold-called a person who was very very busy with his cell phone, due to which, he was looking down at the phone on his lap and not at the slides. Unfortunately for him, the professor noticed him and called him out. The guy looked up, the professor then asked him something very very relevant to the subject which I have already forgotten (its been all of 6 months since I studied that subject you know) and the student obviously did not know the answer. So the professor says, you might want to put away your cell phone, at which the student gave that incredulous look which said, "Hey, I WAS paying attention.", to which the professor said, I know you were looking at your cell phone, you cant be looking at your crotch! The whole class burst out laughing and that guy, well, he did not look at his 'crotch' throughout that class. :)

Take 2
Well, we had this tradition in which once a professor had finished his last class with us, we would call him for a group photo. It was on these lines that we invited our FADM professor (a real cool guy I must add, and well you will get to know this in a few minutes too) So well, FADM stands for Financial Accounting and Decision Making and the professor was explaining to us how to understand account statements, more importantly, how to write items in the Cash Flow Statement if I remember correctly. So well, he went on for quite some time when soon enough, it was time to end the class. And well, people were getting ready to invite him for our group picture when he was finishing up. But before we could say anything, he says,"Now that we have finished this, I am going for a well-deserved potty break." And off he went, before we could even fathom what he really had said!

Traxx

In India, one of the most convenient emerging form of transport is the 'shared' auto or Tata Sumo. You need to pay anything from between Rs. 5 to Rs. 40 and go from minimum distance of 5 kms to 30 kms without having to shell out a hefty sum.

But then, like every thing else, it is a mixed bag. If you want roses, you will get thorns too. That was my failed attempt at similies...or whatever. Anyway, back to the point. 'Shared' auto.

So this one time, in the peak of summers, my sister was to go in a 'shared' Sumo with my father. This is her exact narration of what happened. They had been trying to get a conveyance for quite some time and had pretty much given up, leaving them with no resort but to travel by this 'Shared' Sumo. Now the actual capacity of a Sumo is, 2 in front (driver + pillion) , 3 right behind, in the seat parallel to the drivers (engineer's description), and 6 right at the back in the opposing bench kinda seats that open at the rear. So how many does that add up to? 11. You're good! :P

The drivers being the greedy lot that they are...want to squeeze out (literally), every penny from you. So they want to fill up the WHOLE vehicle until there is absolutely no space to breathe. They fill in 3 ppl in the front ( excluding the driver) , 5 ppl right behind and 8 in the opposing benches.

Another important thing that you need to know is that my father CANNOT tolerate heat and when it is as hot as 45 degrees, he definitely didn't want to be scrunched up in the back with lots of people. He therefore chose the most preferable seat, the front seat. And when he came to know that there are 2 more people who're going to sit in the front with him, he decided to wait outside till they were 'stuffed' in. 

Finally the time came and the Sumo was full. So, my father, very conveniently went and sat in the corner-most part of the front seat. There was just one problem. The door wouldn't close. Then he tried, unsuccessfully, to twist and turn in order to fit in, but to no avail. 

The driver, during this whole time, did nothing but watch him try and fail, smiling all the time. Then, when my father had given up, he went up to him and said,"Saab thoda haath andar karke baithiye". My father, exasperated by now, complied. And then, the driver, who very well knew how to make his gaadi work for him, went, "Bang" "Bang" "Bang" ...you know how we try to close our suitcases when they are stuffed to the brim, exactly like that, except he didn't sit on the door (mostly coz he couldn't). By the fifth Bang, the door closed, he locked it and the vehicle started to move, with a very dazed man sitting in the corner and a girl rolling with laughter at the back. :)