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02:30 am

The visit was fun. Apart from the ghosts of the past in the mind and beyond, things worked well. For some time, I felt like visiting royalty, scheduling breakfasts, dinners and lunches one after the other.

Didn't have time for my best buddy. He's taken up dropping and picking me up each time I visit Dilli. I like it. For it makes me feel that there's at least some one who cares. My folks, on their part make a conscious choice on having me take public transport. And to tell them better, I take the so-much-more expensive radio taxi each time. Father fumes, my smile blooms!

Didn't go to any of my fave eat-outs in Delhi this time. When you live to eat, as I do, that's a big thing to do. There was the family dinner at Se7en, which is now serving as the coffee shop at the Crowne Plaza. wanted to meet the folks so we had a nice time all around. Just a thing that I remembered while we were waiting sitting for folks near the pastry shop. When I was born all those years ago, Dad got pastries from the Crowne Plaza. It was called Surya Sofitel then. I've taken pastries off this place so many times in the past, as it was on my way home from work. It was fun to realise, and to know how I can forget fundamentally unimportant things.

Met a blast from the past. She's grown into quite the woman, complete with beauty and all. Forgot my wallet, and had her treating me, on the same day that she shared with me her employers' inability to pay beyond minimum-wage-rate. And felt better, for I was not the only type of BPO's that exisited in the world. She works in a publishing company that churns out content and design for firang companies. She has no say in the design, and otherwise. I remember the accounts of people who start at the bottom. Wish I could employ her for the sweetness that she is.

The last few months, there's been absolutely zilch reading done, or so I thought. Back in the old days, I would wake up, read for two hours, get ready, go to work, come back, read for two hours, go to sleep, repeat. That meant I chewed on atleat 3 books a week. Bought them by the truckload, spent all my money on them. All of it. In fact, its my firm opinion that if I'd saved all the money that I've spent on Books and Pasta, I can afford the Tata Safari I so want, all in cash. I've done some calculations to this end, but since the money is gone, its a moot point. But doing some soul-shelf searching the other day, its because I read way too many blogs these days. There's this persistent need to know people through their blogs, because knowing how people rant is the best way to rave about them. So, all of you who haven't yet started to blog, because you don't know how to/what to blog about, do it now.

In other news, I've learned how putting your music player on shuffle mode makes life so much interesting. Back in BPOWorld, I used to workout. The gym had a very fancy music system, but only so many CD's. This meant I knew the next song that would come after the one that would play. And make my workout routine according to the songs that would play. Since I was often alone in the gym (this was often at 3 am in the night), it helped me get into a routine. To this day, whenever I hear one of these songs go on, I know what's coming on next. So, when it doesn't, I know what shuffle means.

Its like not having to pay the bill after you've eaten. Not having to huff-puff after you ran 10 meters. Short and static bursts of adrenaline hit you and give you wings. I know I'm not describing this right.


If you'd go over this post once again, you'd know that's what I've been doing so far. I can't even call it blah. Its the most commonly over used word.

As I write, Summer Girls by LFO has been followed by Summertime by Janis Joplin. Not necessarily because shuffle's on. But, because, for some reason, I typed Summer in the search window.

Fluff, huh? Well, the thing is, I OD on Postsecret and GapingVoid. Which means I put out everything even if it means nothing to you. Maybe it'll strike an opera with someone in the future. For now, you have to deal with the BS that I churn out on an everyday basis.

Haunt

01:00 am

Things can come rushing back at you, at speeds that you would've thought are unimaginable. I've just spent 2.5 days in Delhi. I go back tomorrow.

Today was a blast from the past that shook me. All I did was live the life I lived once, just lived it again. Nothing really changes.

Went to my place-of-work during the period 2001-04. The factory that I ran with my sweat-and-blood (I had a non-ac car those days, and my nose sprouted blood pretty often). A friend I knew since I was in school. And liked for a very long time.

I just settled right back in. Its scary. Visited a dealer that I used to frequent some 5 years ago. And discussed the sales of paints and sanitary fittings. Drank the same sugary tea that he had to offer me all that time back. And offered him some taps again. Ditto.

No change in me. No change in him. Both of us sharing and exchanging meaningless conversation and deftly articulate negotiations on what we would do this time, as business.

I thought I'd moved on, and lived in the world of American accents, and then in advertising-land. Full of kids and some grown ups, who in most cases did not give a rat's arse to whatever happens.

From verbiages to verbosity. From cabs to cabbage. From opportunities to opportunists. From creativity to crassness.

There are a few other million words that are floating around my head right now that I need to put in this space, but like someone said, the blog ain't a personal diary, dude. You gotta keep some shit to yourself. Near as they are to me, I'll heed.

Ciao.

Ho Yum..

01:14 am

I travel to Delhi tomorrow for a short trip that involves 34 hours of traveling and 84 hours of staying there. This is not a work trip, but a trip to meet my folks and all other assorted parts of my life. Why is this ratio so skewed, is because my folks think airplane tickets are too expensive (which I agree with) and that as a non-earning student I should travel by train (which I don't agree with, at all). But since I'm still travelling by 3rd AC rajdhani and all, so I shouldn't grumble much. So there.

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There have been many things to talk about. The top most being, I got my phone back. What happened was that my phone got picked from the class one of these days, 3rd August to be precise, and I was slightly devastated. It was a 2-month old PDA after all, which looked like a distant dream for all that I know, to buy again i.e..

I waited for my bill to come, and since it was a delhi no., all local calls within Pune were also listed. I started calling them numbers one by one, and coaxed cajoled and threatened to get the name of the guy who had my phone. After some time, I reached a wizened soul called Kedari, who works in a कचहरी somewhere nearby. He assured me that he would get my phone.

Next day, I get a call to meet him somewhere in the middle of nowhere. All my friends chicken out from accompanying me, except D, who's probably the strongest of them all anyways, being a girl and all. So finally, I tell the guy I wouldn't meet him in his den, and that we should meet in a public area (which means an area with enough public to have them save me, should this guy want to engage in street kungfu). I then received a phone call to meet him in front of the Balaji temple where he was present in a cream-colored Scorpio. Enough to set my blood racing. Two of my friends, who had earlier refused to go, were unfortunately going that way, and I had them come with me.

I reach the temple, and I see this group of 6-7 marathi uncles, with Mr. Kedari sitting in the middle. Your typical marathi uncle, with a thick gold chain, thick gold watch and a not-so-thick paunch. He asked me my name, address, phone no. and ratified the rest of my resume. He was apparently a son-of-the-soil, and didn't think much of my cool-types Advertising MBA. So we chatted up, had a chai, and he gave me my phone.

I know of no one who's ever got a stolen/lost cellphone back. This in addition to the lost car that was then found is a blessing from all the gods I've been running away from these last few years.

The time has come for me to have faith again, for it helped me at times that were a little too hard. Its easy to give up our faith, rituals and ways of living. I hope to share this happiness with others soon.

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On matters of faith, here is another tid-bit. Apart from the buddhist philosophy I follow, there is the ISKCON movement that is rather close to my heart. I dunno how much depth I have in my devotion for Lord Krishna, but a visit to the temple in Vrindavan was fortnightly affair for me. Listening to the Hare Ramo, Hare Krishna chants while trying to speak to Krishna is a deeply personal affair for me. Its worked for years, and it still works. I went to the local ISKCON temple yesterday. A few things were a little skewed, and here's my take-

1. I enter temple. Take off shoes. Walk towards the sanctum sanctorum.
2. First person that I notice is a prabhuji. These are people who have dedicated their lives to Krishna and live in various ISKCON centers around the globe. He is on the cell-phone, right outside the sanctum sanctorum. He is bending over to pay his respect to the god(s), and then walks out to continue his call. I don't like. Sanctum Sanctorum =sanctity, No?
   
3. Second person right after him is a youth, who switches off his Creative mp3 player to enter. I muse about the changes in our lives, and how the player is his only companion till the time he reaches the gods. More on this later in my series on modern day spirituality.
   
4. I go, speak to the god, and come out.

Here in, starts the fun. As you would know, I'm a student of advertising. And I notice it everywhere I see it. Its a craft I wish to master, blah blah. So perception levels are on the zenith.

ISKCON is making a temple. A huge temple on the outskirts of Pune. They need funds to build that temple. And they have some pretty savvy people on their side. People who know fancy softwares like CorelDraw and PhotoShop etc.. And they know things can be printed on huge billboards, and small flex boards. So every inch of the temple, except the main building (where there are little reminders) are covered with a donation plea. There's even a scale model of the proposed temple, to let you see what you are paying for.

There are instances from all the holy scriptures, telling you of all the heavenly qualities you'd bear once you agree to pay for the construction of the temple. Here they are-

Narsimha Purana
O devoted one, one who builds a beautiful temple for Lord Narasimha will be freed from all sinful reactions and he will enter the Vaikuntha planets.

Vishnu Dharmottara
A person who builds a temple of Sri Vishnu will get the same result as performing the Rajasuya Yajna and Ashvameda Yajna.
O best of brahmanas, as many atoms are there in the temple so built, for so many thousands of years will he be able to reside in the heavenly planets.

Skanda Purana
Just by starting the construction of a temple for Lord Krishna, sins committed in seven births will be wiped out and one will deliver his forefathers who are suffering in the hellish planets.

Srimad Bhagavatam
One who offers the Deity, gifts of land, markets, cities and villages so that the regular daily worship and special festivals of the deity may go on continually will achieve opulence equal to My own.

Vamana Purana
Whoever constructs or helps to construct a Vishnu temple will protect eight generations of fathers, grandfathers and forefathers from falling into hell.

There is a billboard with a list on it. The first 51 devotees who pay Rs. 1 lac or more. And there are boards on the vehicles of the temple, there are boards near where there's a small restaurant. And there are boards on the outside boundary wall. And the side boundary wall.

You get the picture? I don't.

My faith remains. My faith in what would become of the Pune chapter of ISCKON is another matter. I hope the Gods will do the needful.

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There are quite a few other things that I want to mention, like my reviews of the latest flicks I saw. But that later. I'm tired, so are you. Let's call it a night.
Ciao.