Unfriendship Day

Was listening to songs in the "sleep" playlist on my phone when the melodious voice of Mahendra Kapoor started teasing me with "Chalo ek baar Phir se ajnabee ban jaaye hum dono"
How true were the lines written by Sahir Ludhianvi!! The line means something like..
"Let's become strangers and stay that way"
It is sung by a heart-broken singer to his ex-girlfriend wishing they had never fallen in love, wishing they had remained strangers. I know a lot of people who would want to say that to their wives now.
But on a more serious note, I 've had some terrific relationships in life that suddenly seemed to vanish into thin air (If your narrow mind read that as terrific affairs, I don't blame you... you would qualify as an asshole at heart though). Am too inattentive to realise why that happened.
Why did people I could swear my life on, suddenly cease to be friends?
Why, despite my best efforts to get back in touch (after a small gap of few years), they refused to be friends again?
It pains me that I am not part of their lives anymore. I miss all the attention I used to get from them (Typical Libran you would say!). This doesn't happen with the hundreds of acquaintances we encounter in life.
And the closer you were to people, the more it pains.
The pain is so bad that you wish you had never been anything more than strangers.
Worse is advice from people who themselves are an epitome of emotional stress, who tell you that "At least, you've gained experience from all this!"
If given a chance, I'd like to wipe all that red from my memories and start afresh.
 I'd like to "Unfriend" them all!

Yes!!! That's the word!
That's the best part of FaceBook.

Remember, a few centuries ago, when we all were part of a 'happening' site called Orkut and shifted to facebook?
We were in awe of the hugely involving game called 'Mafia Wars' and to progress in the game, you needed to have more facebook friends who played the same game!
Soon,  I started to accept just anyone's friend requests. So much so that at a point of time I was friends with 3000 people of whom I knew only a 100 or so.
Slowly, as I grew (both in maturity as well as rotundness), I found out that 'Mafia wars', 'Farmville' etc were called MMOGs or Massively Multiplayer Online Games. That No matter how many hundreds of levels I crossed, the complexity of the game would just keep increasing and that I'd Never win!
Then a lot of my real friends started increasing on facebook and I was, for the first time in years, irritated by the 'game posts' which I had stopped playing.
Like Gautam Budhdha, who suddenly gained enlightenment under the bodhi tree, I found this awesome option called "Unfriend"

Just as the first Sunday of August is celebrated as 'Freindship day', let's start observing the third Sunday of September as 'Unfriendship Day"

On this day, I will unfriend all the people who are a pile of unnecessary emotional baggage in my life.

And also, on this day, We could unfriend all people who are in our friends' list and whom we do not know in real life. You never know how many of them are creeps who may stalk you or use your personal information from facebook for their own personal gains!
You could optionally unfriend those irritating folk that repeatedly send you "candy crush" requests.
You could Unfriend that Aunt, who starts gossiping as soon as you are tagged in a picture with people from the opposite sex!
Whoah! This actually has infinite possibilities!!!

In life too, the dictum "less luggage-more comfort" is true. The lesser your emotional baggage is, the happier you will be!

Happy Unfriendship Day!

My 2013 in 24 pictures...

 

There were thousands of great moments, many never were clicked in pictures... Here are a few pictures on how my life was in 2013..
A lot of pictures with others in it were excluded to protect their privacy.

My First hike.... Thanks to my cousin Sindu for that late night call...

 

my first jump :)

 

Descending in the dark...

Then came the slackline....

top-roping and bouldering...

Republic day hike...

Ghattupal hills...

 

 

My love for my Guitar was kinda insane....

 That insane 570 km bike trip...

 

 

Then my parents joined me....

 

Yes, I am sitting on my dad's shoulders :)

 

 Then came the adrenaline stuff.... 

 

 

 

 

And loads of others, including two half-marathons, one Duathlon, horse riding, ATV rides, Zip-lining, swimming.... Guess they'll make it to next year's collection. 

Mud and weed...

I was on my way back from Lahiri resorts in Pathancheru, where I had been a volunteer for GHAC’s Hyderabad Mudrun 2013. After two days of awesomeness, fatigue seemed to seep into my body as I had a tough time negotiating the potholes on the road back home. I needed a small jolt of adrenaline to keep me running, and nothing works better than exploring the unknown. So, looking for that evasive adrenaline, I took an unfamiliar right turn on to the service road of the ORR.

The next five kilometers was effortless cruising on the smooth tarmac, at speeds that would make my mom unhappy and my bike proud, came to an abrupt halt at Kodur junction where the service road ended into two kachcha roads.

After enquiring from a couple of villagers, decided to take a kachcha road that would take me into the city. Thereafter it was a blissful, slow bumpy ride for five more kilometers with fields on both sides and beautiful landscapes.

I stopped after I heard someone cry out. In the mango orchard on my right a couple of guys were beating up a small kid. I am not a hero, and not really built to fight but I am no coward either. I used the whistle attached to my hiking bag and ran towards them after locking my bike. Am not sure whether it was my heavy army-style trekking boots or the loud whistle, but the two guys took off leaving the bleeding kid, one of them dropping a small packet from his pocket.

The kid was around ten or eleven years old, bleeding from his mouth and forehead, and wincing in pain. I carried him back to my bike where I administered first aid. One of the few advantages of being a doctor is having an extensive First aid kit, apart from the knowledge of using it properly.

“Nee perenti?” I asked in telugu.”What is your name?”

“Telugu goththilla, naanu Kannadiga” he replied in crisp Kannada. “Ninn Hesarenu?” I asked again. (Thanks to my profession I had mastered all the south-Indian languages except for Malayalam.)

He told me that his name was Nandu. He was twelve years old, from a village in Bidar district of Karnataka. He knew no one in Hyderabad. I went back into the orchard and picked up the packet dropped by one of the guys who beat up Nandu, and immediately recognized what it was.

I drove to the city as soon as I could and got a chest X-ray done for the kid. The X-ray confirmed my suspicion of a couple of rib fractures. Knowing there was nothing much to be done there I took him home along with a few medicines I bought at the pharmacy there.

My dad saw me park through the window and shouted “Aah, at last you are home! Was really bored for two days!” My mom opened the door and said “you were supposed to be home three hours back! Oh, who is this? And what happened to him?"

I got Nandu comfortable in my bed and told my parents about the incidents that happened earlier, showing them the packet I found. My mom didn’t seem to know but my dad asked “Is that what I think it is?” I nodded my head.

In my hands was a packet of Ganja, or (For newbies - also called Weed, marijuana, or pot). My job at the de-addictioncenter, NIMHANS hospital told me that the packet I held was worth a good amount of money.

After sometime, I started a conversation with Nandu. He told me that he ran away from home a three months back, and came to Hyderabad. While trying to find work, he was spotted by a person called Seenu, who promised him a job and took him to his house. There he met a couple of other kids and Seenu’s friend Yusuf.

The job was simple. Nandu had to carry small packets of weed hidden in his clothes, in city busses to different places, where someone would collect them and send Nandu back to Seenu’s house.
Nandu was happy with the food and clothes Seenu gave him and everything seemed fine, until today when he lost a small packet while getting down a crowded city bus. Seenu and Yusuf, who refused to believe Nandu, were angry about the loss and started hitting him until they saw me approach blowing a whistle. I enquired about Nandu’s parents and called them up. Nandu’s tears of joy replaced his pain as he spoke to his dad for the first time in months.

Nandu’s father and uncle took my address and started for Hyderabad. I then enquired if Nandu could recognize Seenu’s house. He replied affirmatively saying as he was traveling in city busses, he knew exactly how to get back.

Letting him take rest, I left for the Narcotics cell at mehdipatnam. Though I was initially apprehensive about getting involved with the police, all my doubts were laid to rest with a friendly approach from Mr Sreedhar, a sub-inspector I met there. It was already late in the night but he accompanied me home and spoke to Nandu , while I played the interpreter. Mr. Sreedhar told me that he needed Nandu to lead them to Seenu’s house in the morning.

The next morning, I spoke to Nandu’s father who arrived, and explained to him about the Mr Sreedhar’s plans. Though he was initially reluctant, he agreed to send his son with us.

That evening, all the regional news channels were abuzz with the daring police operation which apprehended a gang involved in drug peddling and rescued five kids who were being used as drug couriers. The police also seized a huge stock of Ganja and other drugs from them. The same night, Nandu left for his home town with his father.

It has been four days since I took that unplanned right turn near the ORR. And my face lighted up when I picked up my phone today. Nandu was home, recovering and very happy. We spoke for a long time about Seenu and yusuf being arrested. Just before I cut the call, he told me to tell my father that he will fulfill his promise.

“Dad, Nandu was saying something about him fulfilling a promise. What was that all about?” I asked my father.

My father, who is an accomplished journalist, raised his head through the book he was reading and told me “It was nothing. He said he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and asked me how he could do that. I told him to always follow what his father told him and study well, and that's exactly what you did. He promised me He'd do that” and slipped back in to his reading.

Courage...

My ICSE exams had ended a couple of weeks back and I was already getting bored. Youtube and facebook had nothing interesting on. So, I googled my name and was bombarded with search results about Abhishek Bachchan, the movie star. Happens when you share your first name with someone so popular.
I retried with my surname instead. One result made me curious, and I opened it. What I read stirred long repressed memories...

We used to stay in Hyderabad in those days. Our house was built when I was too small to remember, but what struck me as peculiar was that inside our gate, was a huge empty space, just beside the house. Something that wasn't in any other house in the neighborhood.
This 'empty' land , I was later told, was equal to the place our house was built and was sold by my dad to his sister, my aunt. The place was full of weeds, trees and rocks and full of moles!
I am a pet lover. My dad doesn't allow pets because the loss of his dog in his childhood had scarred him badly. But, I am terribly afraid of moles. Mice are cute. Moles are scary.

This fear was increased by the terrible screams my mom would let out whenever one of those horrible rodents wandered into our home.
I would suggest killing all of them, but being in 2nd grade, I didn't have a clue as to how to do it. But, my mom, wouldn't even think of hurting a fly (literally)and would reject the idea outright.
My dad, had a huge company, which used to construct a lot of buildings, and was always at office.
We had a huge roof top garden including a bonzai mango tree, a lemon tree and lots of roses.
One day, I saw a small but fat cat behind the lemon tree. It wouldn't budge when i tried to shoo it off, and my mom told me to leave it alone. She would in fact leave milk near the lemon tree for the cat.

"Mom, the cat so small yet has a huge tummy, like Raghu uncle. It doesn't need any more milk! " 

Mom said that the cat had babies in it's tummy and would, in a few days, give birth (whatever that meant) to kitten. She was worried that the moles (being so huge) would kill the cat.

The beautiful day arrived and i saw six cute kittens! And boy were they hungry! Lapping up all the milk poured by my mom in minutes! I wanted to touch them, but the small cat would scare me with her sounds.

The gardener came to mom the next day and told her all the moles were killed by the cat. He disposed off about 12 dead moles. I puked for a long time after looking at them. "Mommy, how did the small cat kill all of  them? they were so big!"

Mom just said "you will understand someday..."
 
The next day, mom and dad were whispering in the dining room. They stopped as soon as I went in. Mom looked tense, had tears in her eyes. I have never seen my mom crying until that day. I tried to ask  her, but she said that I wasn't going to school for a few days.

I didn't care about anything else after she told me that. I was so happy! I could watch cartoon network and pogo all day now!

Mom now used to lock the door all through the day. There was a police uncle at the gate sometimes. Mom wouldn't let me go out and play, but I could play Super Mario on her laptop as long as I wanted to.

The bell rang and I jumped to open it. Two uncles, wearing scarves, asked if my dad was home. One of them had a beard, sticking out of his scarf. When I said "no", they pushed me and came into the house. My mom came running as soon as she heard me scream.

The bearded guy caught me tight and showed my mom a big dirty knife. My mom started screaming but stopped as soon as she saw the knife. I was still crying, and had no idea as to what was happening.

They were about to take me to their white van outside when my mom said "Leave him alone, I have money and jewelery here. You can have it all, but leave my son alone!"

The other guy followed my mom and she gave him a bag. Then, she went into the kitchen where she had a lot of money in one of the steel boxes. After a few minutes, the bearded guy  took me into the kitchen. On the table was a bundle of money. The bearded guy said "Thanks for everything. Your husband can pay the rest and then we will let go of your kid"

Suddenly, my eyes started burning , and I could not open them. All I could hear was the men screaming. I knew someone was taking me out of the room.

I was out of the house, and realised I was with my mom. Trough my teary eyes I saw that her saree was full of red stains. Soon, there was a lot of police at home and I slept off.

It has been eight years since that day. We shifted to Delhi two days later. I was never told what really happened that day.

"Kanna, Dinner is ready!" my mom called out.

I snapped out of my memories, wiped my tears, closed the news page, with the title 'Housewife stabs kidnappers, using chilli powder to blind them, to protect son' , went down running and hugged my mom, and said "I love you mom".

My mom was pleasantly surprised and asked "what happened?"

I didn't tell her, but I knew now, how the cat managed to kill all those moles.

Mind games?

Am talking to my "someone" on phone. I think we all have a "someone" in our lives.. A few of us have more than one "someone"s...
It is that girl you love a lot. But she is kinda unreachable. For half of us, this is a choice. They chose to let go of this girl because they weighed their options, the pros and cons of turning this friendship into a relationship. For the miserable half, it is destiny. I know the girl likes me... maybe even more than a friend. But she's got her sights on someone else.
I don't know what she sees in him, but I hate that bugger from the bottom of my growling intestines. I know for sure that there will be a lot many things I can share with this girl than he'll ever get to know... IF their relationship lasts this winter that is.
I listen to her voice... sleepily requesting "Put me to sleep". "I can't sing darling (Oh yes, I do call her that... She doesn't seem to realise that I mean it.), My mom's in the next room!"
"Please?...."
I can see her puppy eyes, eyes that would put Milo to shame, though you would argue we are more than a thousand miles apart. I whisper "Okay! give me a minute.", and silently make my way across to the terrace. ( Now I know why all people in love talk on phones on the terrace. It is not the network, it's a place to getaway from moms!) 
I start crooning " Ye utthe subuha chale... Ye jhuke Shaam dhale... Mera jeena Mera marna.. inhi palkhon ke tale.... Teri Aankhon ke siva Duniya mein Rakha Kya hai?", meaning each and every syllable of this Rafi classic. I know she is not a huge fan of Rafi Saab, but everything I ever wanted to say to her was in his songs. She never really got it though.
A couple of minutes later I hear a "smack". Am I dreaming??? Did I hear a soft kiss on the other end of the phone? "Hello?" I wait for a reply that never comes... "Hello!!"...
"Yyeeeaaah." I understand that sleepy tone, wish her good bye, control all my urges to kiss her goodnight on the phone and hang up.
Maybe I was imagining that Kiss. Maybe I heard a distant rustle and mistook that sound.... Why would she kiss me anyway? She's with someone else now...
I come back to my room and slam the door in frustration. "How the hell am I supposed to live like this?", when I hear my mom shout from her bedroom to keep it down....
"Opps! did I just shout that out loud?" I just don't know what to believe.

Am on my way to meet Vaishu.

No, she is not my "someone". She could've been, but she got married last year. Vaishu and me go a long way back.
Seven years back, on a fateful day, we were informed by a circular that the college hours have been cut short, and we should all get home soon, in the wake of a Bandh call given by a political party. Most of the busses were stranded, and the few that were running were threatening to topple over to the left because of the crowd. How was I to get home?
All my troubles vanished when I saw Niha (She too is not my current "someone"). Those cute brown eyes, and her wavy hair.... I could just keep seeing her all say. If it weren't for some fatso who stepped on my foot, I wouldn't have noticed her calling my name!
"Hey Abhay! You okay? How are you planning to get home?"
"I don't want to go.... I mean I don't know... haven't thought about it.... what are your plans?"
"Meet my friend Vaishnavi. Vaishnavi, this is Abhay. ."
I didn't take note of this new girl at all... I had eyes only for that one girl.. (Isn't it always like that when you have your first crush?)
A few months later, I grew out of my infatuation, but ended up being best buddies with Vaishu.

"Abho!"
Vaishu's louder than that-fat-opera-singer's voice brought me back from that flashback I was having.
"God! you look gorgeous! I think you are actually cooking these days... there is certainly no other way you could've lost all that weight after marriage"
"Shut up! I am cooking, and that's the only reason I am still alive. You cannot imagine how horrible food is in Cuttack!"
She had been complaining about the food in Odisha for more than a few months now. She had to relocate as her husband was posted there on routine transfer. What else do you expect when you put a "I-swear-by-all-that-masala-in-this-Biriyani" hyderabadi into a state where sugar is the favourite flavour?
"Let's go to Shadab! I am really yearning for that Biriyani!"
"Okay madam! As you wish". I started my bike and was looking forward to the best Vegetable Biriyani that Hyderabad had to offer, drooling enough saliva to wash my bike for a month.

I was still waitng for her to get onto my bike when I turned right to see a Red SUV ram into my bike, in slow motion, the kind that Peter parker sees, the spidey-sense stuff. I wasn't quick enough to react though, and could feel a million blades cut through my right leg where the SUV impacted. I hit my head on the floor to wake up and half-realise that it was all a dream.

I could hear my mom shouting "He speaks on phone all night... and never gets up before 11a.m., He ought to take up some responsibilty for his life!!"
I was trying to get up when I realised I could not move my right leg. I blurt out "WTH??...@@$$)%($ " , and noticed that my leg wasn't just there! I swear I could have had a Heart attack if I wouldn't have realised that all this was a dream and I was in my room, on my bed with a terrible headache and (Thank God!) a healthy pair of legs.

Looked at my phone to check for messages or calls. None.
Not one from Vaishu, who got busy after marriage... neither from my "someone".
Woke up to start one more depressing day of routine work, when my mom shouted "You get out of that bed! It is twelve o clock , and you are still sleeping shamelessly??"

So, my dreams, or rather dreams inside dreams... (or maybe some part of it was real?), was all part of the games my mind has been playing with me?

One thing is for sure.... even these mind games didn't dare to mess around with my mom's impersonation.

A common man's genuine doubt : Burning the flag????

Like scores of other corporate slaves in the city of Hyderabad, I too get to read the actual newspaper only on weekends. And a good part of my day goes to Google news, and the other news websites it redirects to.
Was reading up an article on "Terrorists dressed as Pak soldiers attack Indian army post: 5 Indian Jawans killed", which was soon followed by a video by some news channel, showing a "protest rally" against Pakistan.
The people in the video belonged to a national political party and were shouting anti-Pakistan slogans and burning a huge flag of Pakistan.
That got me thinking.....

We should never burn flags! Whatever the reason, burning a flag is never the solution. Imagine the effect it has on the millions of people across the border who see this video. (Or imagine how bad you'd feel if the Indian national flag was being burnt in a video in Pakistan - Would you even care to look for why those people were doing it?)
Burning flags doesn't really make a difference! You think it will deter terrorists from planning other attacks? or will it awaken the government from it's power-crazy sleep to focus on these issues?

My Genuine doubt:  WHERE DO THESE POLITICAL PEOPLE GET THEIR PAKISTAN FLAGS??? DO THEY KEEP STOCK? I mean, do they order online and stack up say 50 flags?
"What ??? Pakistan terrorists killed our jawans? here take these two flags, burn one near the parliament, and one near Chandni chowk... "
"That Pakistani cricketer commented on an Indian batsman??? Here, burn this flag with an effigy of that Pak cricketer."
"We are running out of flags to burn... have e-bay deliver more of these in a couple of days!"

And do people realize that these are the same videos that are used by terrorist outfits to mislead kids and young adults in madrassas... "See that? They are burning our flags! Doesn't that make you angry??"
And young Kasab was filled with fury... He resolved at that moment that he would avenge this insult to his motherland!!!
 
Gandhi never burnt a single British Flag! Then how come people say they are Gandhians and are protesting peacefully, burning flags? Someone has to oversee these protests and tell people how not to protest!

Maybe the judiciary would take a look at it? Oh no... They are too busy denying bail petitions of a few politicians and acquitting a few others, telling med students that their hard work for a national exam is useless coz they can't rule against the millions earned by private medical institutes, telling the govt that it should not exercise influence over investigating agencies etc etc.....

I was about to say God save my nation from these fools, when a voice from the skies shouted "NO!!! That is too much to ask! I can't take such kind of pressure anymore!!"

Another life... another time.

I love the way you smile.

I love the way your eyes shine.

And when I shake hands with you,

I love the way your hand fits into mine.

I’ve been in love before.

I’ve seen people use that to score.

But when I see into your eyes,

I know I could never love more.

I know you don’t like the way you sound.

But when you laugh, you make my world go round.

You don’t realize that you are very special.

Trust me darling, you are divinity unbound.

I wish I could tell you all that I feel.

I wish I could ask you to be my amaranthine queen.

But you know my life's spinning out of control .

I wish we had met, 

In another life, another time.