BLOOPERS – Part I

I felt my cheeks turning beet red with the feeling of pure idiocy.

Well, I don’t know how often it happens with you guys, but it happens with me most of the times and the instant reaction that comes to my mind is, “Please Lord…make me invisible or Let the earth open up and swallow me right now!!!”

I was on my way home in the usual 6:30pm office bus when it happened. It was too late when I realized that I had done it again. :-( :-(

It was Friday and I was in a very happy mood. I don’t know why but suddenly I felt like singing “Aj main upar….asmaan niche…” . No I had not got a promotion or an onsite and the salary hike had also been meager. No prizes for wild guesses…..No didn’t fall for cupid’s victim this time :P …But whatever be the reason, I was very happy.

I had even managed to beat my competitor in the race of occupying my favorite seat in the bus. I felt a strange satisfaction seeing his disappointed face when he saw me peeping through the window triumphantly. Ahh, what a way to end such a beautiful day! I mused.

 I don’t know anything about him apart from the fact that we both work in the same organization, avail the same bus back home and share the same affinity towards a particular seat the bus. Anyways, let me not get carried away by the emos..

The bus started and I happily plugged in my earphones and got swayed away by the music being played.

I started humming slowly. I must say that I have a pretty good collection of songs to suit my mood swings every now and then.

Those who know me know very well that I am a typical bathroom singer and I hate to sing public. Fortunately or unfortunately I had been always the chosen one to sing in all kind of occasions like republic day, independence day, teachers day and all those innumerable days since childhood. Not one such performance had ended without me turning beet-red after that . And with all those Indian Idol and SAREGAMAPA seasons being telecasted recently the hidden singer in me gets charged up..

So I continue to hum. One song after the another, feeling the lyrics, the tune, the soul of the songs, praising the lyricist and the music director even the actors who have lip sung!

I see the conductor of the bus turning back at times, maybe he is concerned about the people getting down. A sincere one, eh.. But I continue to hum, lip-sing with the earphones ON.

The bus gets stuck in the usual traffic jam . Ughh…. how I hate these moments. Suddenly I feel a cold shudder and I look around. 

Oppsss!!! I see all the eyes in the bus is staring at me! Is everybody smiling! I quickly pass a stern glance at my friend sitting nearby. He almost chockes himself with laughter!

Was I audible? I texted him. Even to the person in the last seat! He texted back. What!!! I passed a nasty look at him again for not warning me. Now I can even see people peeping from their seats to see the person who had stopped singing!


Shit man!! I realized that it had been more than half an hour since the bus started. Oh no!! Even my seat-competitor is smiling at me now. Grrrrrr..

“Please Lord…why me all the time??? Now make me invisible or Let the earth open up and swallow me right now!!!”

TaalGaach (The Palm Tree)

Now the next person of Group A to come on stage and recite her poem is Trijeeta. I felt suddenly as if somebody had awaken me from a deep sleep. I tightly gripped my father’s arms in fear. I want to run away but don’t feel my legs anymore. Baba slowly patted my arms and took me to the steps that lead to the stage.

I was hardly 4 or 5. It was my first participation in the recitation competition held in our township on the eve of Rabindra Jayanti. My over-enthusiastic Maa had been toiling for days helping me memorize the poem with the expressions and hand movements every now and then. I had no prior experience of reciting any poem apart from the Nursery Rhymes and had always let my mother down when anybody asked me to recite any one of them.

I climb the steps and stop at the corner of the stage. Uncle lead me to the centre of the stage and made me stand in front of the mike facing the audience. Uncle, as everyone called him was the pricipal of the nursery school I went to and the organizer of that event.
Someone from nowhere came running and adjusted the mike for my height.

My hands froze, my throat dried, my voice choked looking at the audience. The panel of judges wearing heavy glasses sat behind the white-clothed tables in the first row. The children and the participants sat just behind. The parents and the rest of the audience sat behind them. All the eyes fixed on me.
 I try looking for Baba among them. I saw him standing with eyes full of support, exactly at the place where he had left me. I look at him with shy full tears in my eyes and he looked at me with eyes full of reassurance and comfort.

I could hear Uncle prompting me to start.

“Nomoshkar…Kobiguru Robindranath er TaalGachh…” My voice echoed around the auditorium and scared me even more. I gulped in my saliva in order to clear my throat and took a deep breath.

“Taal gach ek paye dariye….sob gach chariye…uki mare akashe”, as taught I look up as if to visualize a distant sky above. I notice lots of mikes hanging above at the different levels all across the edge of the stage. The Disco ball which looked so pretty from far looked giant and scary above.

I close my eyes and try to concentrate.
“Mone sadh kalo megh fure jay…ekebare ure jay….kotha pabe pakha se..
Taito se thik tar mathate…goal goal patate…eccheti mele tar
Mone mone vabe bujhi dana ei…ure jete mana nei…basakhani fele tar…”

While my mother was teaching me this poem, I had asked her why the Taalgach had to stand all day long only on one leg. She said it had only one leg. I had sympathized the Taalgach and had even tried to stand on one leg.

Ohh! Uncle is prompting me again. I had stopped reciting. What are the next lines? I helplessly look at him and then guiltily at the judges. Uncle comes to my rescue prompting me the next lines.

“Saradin jhor-jhor …thor-thor….kanpe pata pottor….ure jeno jabe o…
Mone mone akashete beriye…tarader eriye…jeno kotha jabe o…”

I had seen my classmates getting punished and asked to stand on one leg infront of the pricipal’s office. They were not allowed to play during the games period. What did the Taalgach do? Did he not do his homework , was late or had forgot to bring his books to school?

“Tarpore hawa jei neme jay…pata kanpa theme jay…fere tar monti…
Jei bhabe Ma je hoy mati tar…bhalo lage aarbar…prithibir konti…

Dhanyabad”.

I ended exactly how my mother taught me bowing in front folding my arms together. I walked to the end of the stage and ran as fast as I could down the stairs, diving straight into Baba’s arms, hiding my face in his shoulders out of embarrassment, guilt and insecurity. I knew I had forgotten my lines and all the expressions in between.

Baba, usually a man of few words, patted my back and caressed my hair and said, “Bhalo hoyeche..”

PS: For the people who don't understand Bengali, please excuse me. I have dared not to translate the poem by RabindraNath Tagore.

Shadi.com

Note: The below blog is purely written in light humor. No offense is intended to anyone. And in case some of you get alarmed reading it, please understand that some portions have been tweaked or exaggerated to suit the theme. But otherwise, I’ve tried to stay loyal to the original plot.

It all started when most of my friends got married one after the other. It was enough to set the alarm bells ringing for my parents and a steep rise in their B.P. and blood sugar levels was noticed.  I had even started lying to my mother about my friend’s marital status and ending up missing their much awaited marriage invitations in return.

After being pestered a lot by my mom to create a profile in the matrimonial sites for many days I gave in. Not because I wanted to see my mother happy but I had nothing else to do one US support night where there was not much of work to do and I had to stay awake till 6AM in the morning! Yawwwnn..

None of my friends were online and I was bored listening to music and refreshing the SYSAID to check for new tickets. Yes, there was one more reason, the vital one indeed. I wanted to get married. I am tired of paying for all my expenses myself. What? It was a joke!! Have you guys lost it?!!:D :D

OK..thats how it started..and it was enough to keep me awake for the next few days!!

After creating my profile, I saved my search criteria as well…and Lo! 5457 matches! WTF(wow that’s fantastic J)!!..it cant be serious! No wonder the female ratio in India was lower than that of male…The feminist in me sighed...

I started scanning the profiles..good looking..not so much…pathetic…cute..so-so.…with mustache…dimpled…geeky....NRIs…self employeds..loads-of-degrees…preferred matches…mutual matches….Ugh!!

I scrolled down the list scanning the profiles and then scrolled up. Oh…hmm…Cute...was my first thoughts when I re-checked a profile highlighted in green by the site. A preferred match. I don’t know what the logic behind it is but I want to really thank the person who has written this code. :D Oh!The horoscopes match 74%! Thank you so much Lord!  :P Haan Haan…I know…I don’t believe in them…c’mon there can be exceptions too.. :D :P.

Ok..so my first ever  conversation starts..with Mr. PM(Preferred Match). After an initial hi-hello he asked, “After going through my profile, do you have any questions “?

Yes! Will you marry me? I wanted to reply but controlled myself. :D :D

“ What are your expectations from a guy?”

”Oh yes..he should be…err..well”..

Damn, I should have done some preparations at least. I quickly scanned through his profile again for help!

Well , though eventually things didn’t work out with Mr PM , yet I managed to gain a lot of useful tips and tricks of Dos and Don’ts in matrimonial. *Sob sob* (Did anyone say it’s hard to forget your first.… :P)

Next someone asked me, ”I shall ask you a question and if you don’t feel like answering you can say PASS and then vice-versa”. What!!!

Or like. “Who do you think is the role model in your life and why?” Is someone considering himself as  some beauty pageant judge? :P :P

Ok...So moving on...My cell phone continues to beep with the members interested in my profile. And here are some hilarious profiles which really drove me into fits of laughter..

Profile#1(partner preference):

She should be well educated and also career oriented professional i.e. homely and yet outgoing and at the same time a good friend and also a good wife. She should have no greed for money and should love me and me.

No greed for money ..eh?? whose money?? :D :D

Profile #2:

If baldness is not a problem for you, then I can certify that I am quite a nice person :)

A bald saint..what say?? :P

Profile #3(about himself):

To marriage with Mr XYZl!!!. is a Software developer(Java/ J2EE) and a Software Development and software products and other Business-man!!!Annual profits u may not imagine also!!! If u have any idea about a software company and shopping site do profit in year then u may imagine about profit. And I am not willing to fully disclose it here now, u will be knowing it on our direct discussion time.

Ahaa!! I guess there are no income tax officers around.. :D :D

Profile #4(about himself):

 I am really a very good human being, kind heart person what u cannot find out on others (I am having some special characteristics I think).

Hee..Hee….might be he turns into monkey man at night!! Or Were-Wolf!! Or Vampires!!Gosh!!

Profile#5(partner preference):

 I required a wife whose heart is having already stored full of love for her life-partner and waiting to give her life partner. And after marriage with me , she will give her heart(s) full love to me and will bind me by much more love forever.

Yeeeshhhh…oshlill… :D :D

Yes and the journey still continues. I just pray it doesn’t turn out to be a frustrating one and I meet my “potential suitor” soon. Wish me luck guys!

5 years of so called professionalism

Its been 5 years. Yes 5 long years.

The journey started on 02^nd July 2007 and still goes on.  Sure there were ups and downs, highs and lows but I really miss those initial days..

Me sleeping in the boring ABAP training…(Yes !! On the first row!! Right beside Sweta whole noted down every single word uttered by the trainer.. :P)

Scoring awful in the tests..(No wonder they put me in XI from ABAP.. :D :D)

Bunking office to go to RDB,

The regular walks and jhalmuri in the evening exploring Sec-V..

Sharing the lunch..( I eyed the lunch boxes of Rakhi, Ritu and Manisha..:P :P)

Free ka cold-drinks and milk.. :D :D (Ahh!! that’s a secret not to be revealed)

Posing in front of other people’s car and uploading it in Orkut.. hehe…(Most of them have their won cars now)

The frustrating months in bench..(Though I enjoyed the most.. :-) )

The morning coffee at the lounge which usually lasted till lunch.. (was in bench yaar.. :P)

The Recession…

The regular visits to the Resource Manager’s cubicle..

Walking with my cv in hand around Sec-V in search of a job with Ritu..(I was pretty scared of a lay-off .)

Teasing Subhajit about his wife, then his girfriend..(:D :D I don’t miss it now… we are again in the same company!!)

The drooling over onsite pics of some colleagues… (tch..tch)

The over –emotional Anurupa..

My  no-carb and no-oil diets..(it worked though)

Our non-stop photo shoots at every possible location in the office premises.. :P :P

Arijit’s marriage..(not to forget his special gift.. :D :D)

The birthday treats…

F1.... (well... :D :D)

Shopping Spree with Rakhi Bose..

Our first picnic together…

Our Jashn(annual party night) plannings…(Remember Rakhi…we were so busy shopping for Jashn that we almost forgot to go there!!)

The pranks I played in office... (Sankar my usual bakra...lol)

Aww!! I miss it all!! It’s been a memorable journey…

Who said no one is your friend in professional life? I got my friends for life here.

Though times have changed and we are spread all over the world at present..and meet only in Facebook…yet the same bond prevails… the same feeling of togetherness…

ONLY IF...

You could stay a little longer…

I had the courage to make a different choice….

I could see a happy reflection of mine in the mirror again…

My memories could let me sleep ….

I could trust you again…..

My  eyes stop looking for you everywhere….

These rains didn’t make me restless…

My mother had some more faith in me…

My sister shared everything with me as before….

The exams of life had some syllabus like in school…

All the stories ended with “And they live happily ever after”….

ONLY IF...

Is This Love..

(Attention : Though many may not agree..... :P :P  yet all characters  in this post are completely fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons or incidents is purely coincidental. :D :D)

“Love is patient, love is kind, love means slowly losing your mind”, says Kevin to Jane.

Naina was sipping the glass of Cola while reading a magazine, suddenly paused and looked up at the TV. The Movie “27 dresses” was on.  Jane had met Kevin in one of the marriages. Kevin helps Jane home but is disgusting her with his cynical views of love and marriage.

“Love means slowly losing your mind”? Err.. Well.. May be……. Naina is feeling a lot of it recently.

Just when she had nothing to expect from life, after all these years of waiting and loneliness, she was feeling the same restlessness, the same old rush of blood into her head.

Her heart is pounding fast giving her alerts that something is changing. But what is it?

She had met him on a Social Networking site and has been glued to his web profile since then.

First it was a mere curiosity but then it turned into an addiction.

She has not even met him or heard his voice.  They both chatted often, a few times, for short and long durations mostly late nights.  There was a sad and mysterious aura about him that she found so attractive.

She knows the usual time he is online every day after his work. She waits for him. She likes watching the small green icon beside his name indicating that he is online, as if he were sitting in front of him. She posts random links, quotes and pictures and silently prays for a single like or a comment.

A simple HI from him brings a wide smile on her face. She cooks up all the pretexts she can to initiate conversation with him.

Yesterday while she passed the flower shop on her way home from office, she stopped. Looked at the bunch of red roses and went in. Bought them and placed them in the empty vase on the small table placed in the corner of her room.

Is the radio playing only the romantic classics lately or she has not noticed them earlier?

She inhales deeply the smell of the earth, of the first rains of the season. Ahh..just enough to  melt her heart.

What is happening to her? She is feeling like a teenager again.

She sees hope in his words. She just cannot stop thinking about him. She craves to talk to him.

 “Am I in love? Is this really love?”, she asks herself.

“Love is patient, love is kind, love means slowly losing your mind”, answers her heart back.