The English - Asian Connection

There I sat at the edge of a trunk table of this airy outdoor place in front of someone I had seen about 4 years ago. No idea what to say, just trying to keep the conversation alive. He did not stare into my eyes while talking and made occupational smoking an excuse to look away now and then. I had no clue I would be spending a long long time with this guy who was trying so hard to hide his shyness that it was more and more obvious second by second.

Started with facebook, a really random message one day. A 'hi' on the chat ignored several times by me was somehow reverted to that day and the talks just overflew. So overly impressed by him, I couldn't stop wondering as to how I was so small discussing 3 percent worth assignments while he was out there talking of LOIs, procurement problems, terms that made absolute no sense to me. I loved hearing; although I must say Commodity trading was not a very interesting topic for a gossip girl series follower like me ! Somehow when he spoke; it all made sense.

A dinner in return for a creative business favour; it was decided and I had succumbed. Who knew it wouldn't stop there. Fate was definitely on our side as neither the conversation went dry nor did my quench for apple caramel mojitos; and later not being charged for it, simply wonderful !

Soon we bid goodbye. England was my love and South East Asia his. With absolute nothing in common, it was so easy to forget, so easy to let go, even easier to not recollect later. But sometimes things are planned to click, planned to create that dent as he calls it.

Singapore could be heaven for shopaholics, a work wonderland for those hard working bankers and engineers, sheer fun for college goers et al. Somehow I felt he didn't fit anywhere. He was indeed trying hard, very hard for something I had no idea about until much later. It was killing me; the suspicion of what he does, where he stays, etc but had no answers what so ever.

I happened to ask him once in one of our million telephonic conversations, why is that I don't know anything about you? He paused for a second and said: Well when I figure on Forbes a few years later will you still ask me this question? I was stunned, a little pissed too I must say with his overconfidence and streak of vanity. I avoided conversation for a couple months until one day I got to know things that would change what I think of him completely.

While I slept on a king size bed in an apartment overlooking the plush city center of Sheffield; he was checking in and out of backpacker hostels. While I updated my Skype for the newest version; he saved money to use the Cybercafe pcs to talk to me. While I bought a new phone asking my dad; he saved up to upgrade his bb services. I searched for his Birthday gift everywhere I could; he wrote me a letter. I bought him a wallet; he got me an antique compass from 1920 British Raj in India. While I discussed the sales around; he discussed the stock market.I talked of submissions; he talked of meetings across countries. While I sat and howled about coming second; he accepted dissolved business deals like a gulp of water.

The difference was so obvious! While things kept lining up for me; he had to trim and cut from every corner to find a fresh piece of life. But still I felt he was much more satisfied; so content to be able to do things one self even though the option of help was just a phone call away. I fretted earlier. Entirely jealous of other girls being swept off their feet by their beloveds. One thing I kept forgetting whatever he did; he did it for me. Whatever he did; he never let me feel it was out of troublesome efforts.

Sometimes you don't have to go far to find someone who is ready to hold you when you fall. But you certainly need to fall to go far with someone! I did.

Love Tutorial. Location: Ladies Room, set'z

It was June of two o one o, summer just kicked in and so did the levels of endorphin. Delhi was the place to be and due to infidel deals with love, boys were a big NO. Girl power was being endorsed. I did not believe that an encounter in the ladies room of set'z was going to be leaving a dent in my mind.

A few long islands and our tiny bladders led us to the plush washroom. Quite a wait, alcohol was beginning to stir emotions. My friend (she who shall not be named) had yet again started whining about what we had come to forget in the first place. Trying very hard to empathise with her, I failed to notice the growing interest and urge to advice her in the vicinity. I tried to shush her out of sheer embarrassment but all in vain as she was loving the " we've all been there" stories. The crowd soon submerged; I opened my sprouse vuitton and pulled out my supposed long lasting mascara for a touch up; my friend was doing the same and I was cursing her for all the unwanted attention.

Looking in the mirror, this very polished woman; might have been in her 30's was standing behind me. It seemed like she was waiting for us to finish our touching up rituals. Turned out she wasn't waiting for us to make space for her, she had been eavesdropping upon our entire conversation. As we started to leave, she said girls you might not believe me today but a few years later you will. She said: "Love is like finding the lost keys to your apartment, it belongs to no one but you unless you're planning on moving out"

We were quite amused by her and mentally thanked her for merry-ing the mood since rest of the night was spent predicting what was she on?
Summer dissolved soon and dissertation deadlines were the only adrenaline kicking factor left in the life of registration number 090158474 that is, ME.
One day after a glass or two of chardonnay, I thought of what that woman had said the other day at set'z. It actually made sense.
I thought:
"Love is like finding the lost keys to your apartment, you might search the whole world and find one self sitting on a cushion under which they are hidden."
"Love is like finding the lost keys to your apartment, you might have left them in someone else's possession, but if that's the only piece you got, you'll do anything to procure them."
"Love is like finding the lost keys to your apartment, you wouldn't care about the same keys if you found a better apartment! " "Love is like finding the lost keys to your apartment, if someone else has a copy, man its an unsafe place to live in."

And my thoughts continued...

So have you lost your apartment keys off late ? About time find out where they are before you realise your parents start looking for a new apartment , maybe even a house for you ! Haha

Mr. Desai's Awakening

So my friend, Mr. Desai left me thinking, were my friends just statues and stones that my first instinct was to not write about them. I tried to defend this thought by saying NO there is just too much to write but that's not what the real reason was. The real reason is the lack of updates or knowledge of what anyone is doing. Honestly, I do not doubt my capability of keeping connections and especially after being equipped with the world to sit on my lap through facebook, I have no excuses for being MIA.

I don't know where to begin or rather who to begin with. Are they too many of them or there is too less to write. I think the answer lies mid-way.

Kunal made me ponder, who was the first one I bumped into in Manipal? Hmm... practically PG was the very first person I saw belonging to our college and the last one until I graduated from Sheffield; right from the flight I took to Manipal to my convocation at the Octagon. Funny how it didn't strike me until now. Next person I can bang on recollect is Ms. Shanbhag, my supposed roommate until I switched and she got a great friend.

Walking through the hall way of Valley view for the Orientation on Aug 24, 2007, I can't remember any faces I saw. Funny how it just doesn't strike, probably due to the nervousness!

Wait, I can recollect a loud confident voice talking to my mom. Aki was the next person I met. Very genius, very quick and extremely tom-boyish, I had NO idea I'd be knowing her for so so long. It was she who dragged me with her aura saying have you met this other girl from CAL? And I thought, these guys are crazy to have come from California to this town to do what, STUDY? To my disappointment, rather reassurance, CAL stood for our very own Bengali Capital, Calcutta. Phew. I did not know I'd be the co-occupier of 116 with this person from CAL, who I hadn't met yet.

In class on the following Monday after orientation, I came across Kunal, the Bombay-obsessed dude dressed in so called formals due to the fear of being ragged. He introduced me to the one with the large rounded alphabets, my favourite gentleman (literally) Rajnush. I was so excited I had found someone who had sophistication on his tongue and Delhi on his mind. The encounter was short and the repercussions of that even shorter. Engrossed in completely different worlds, we fell in this gap that just grew deeper as the eventful two years passed by.

Shreya from CAL was the one I was destined to stay with for two consecutive years of Manipal. Crazy about clothes and shoes and vacations and magazines etc we couldn't have gone wrong in any sense while choosing a roommate. Sometimes similarities strike and they did. When the issue of different continents sets in, you're in for a big gap.

One day after some lecture ended, these thin scrawny boys (I am sure they look very different now) walked into our section and started talking to their hostel inmates. I don't remember who all were they, but I do know one of them became my great friend, that is, Saurab aka Juicy. I had literally explored Manipal with him , just aimlessly walking around, chatting about our different lives in different cities. As soon as dinner ended at the mess, I used to wait for Saurab to religiously arrive at the gate of 13th block; it was amazing to just converse with someone who was exactly opposite yet so understanding. That too, I must say did not carry on too long as the 70 percent pass mark kicked us around in the butt.

Another light weight and my reallllly good friend, Mr. Chandak with the Chaplin mostache, kept flying around here and there due to reasons known and unknown. I remember meeting him through Saurab. He spoke, but very occasionally and when he did, boy he made sense. He has been my "father" throughout Manipal and even after. Absorbed in his semi conductors and programming, he rarely would look at you if the purpose wasn't important enough. Clan-ned up with his men, I am so proud he has found time for me even though I have been just like a kid bugging/annoying/blaming him or even better. just fighting with him even though the fault was very much my own.

Then there was the curly haired Coorg queen, Subbaiah; very popular with the boys and also on the basket ball ground, she never ever found a single moment when she was troubled/tensed or bounded by issues. There for me throughout Manipal, I have no idea where she is today but I hope is just like she has always been i.e. Smiling.

Closely following Ati from Bangalore, was Mihir with his 'waist on the knees' jeans and flashing boxers. Too much fun to be around and talks too deep to sometimes comprehend, he had times going for him in his little town where language was not a barrier for him and charm was endless. Not to forget his clan of late arrivers in class and constant mocking attitude. Studying with him to fighting because I didn't get things done my way, I had an amazing time just trying to figure him out.

And there were many others who left a significant mark in my mind whether it was borrowing Gossip girl from Meghna or Lindtts from Zoya or 'gossip' from Shrimayi or dance moves from Sonia.

Wonderful for me to have been touch with you guys and even those who are not mentioned here, I swear there have too many moments highlighted in the back of my mind but of course I am getting old to savour every memory! so forgive me !

A pack of cards; Two Jokers

It has kind of become an obsession now.

A simple talk shared with friends in my dimly lit den at 403 is taking the shape of a belief rather superstition in whatever I have been doing recently. In fact to my surprise I even relate to the past events in my life following the same overrated piece of conversation.

It was post dinner, my friends and I were delving in our regular routine- a few desserts with too much smoke engulfing the room. The topic of the day was : Past Relationships. Everyone was laughing away discussing the times of "I was 16 and hopelessly in love" , "I thought I will get married to him/her" etc. Matters like this, did not amuse me.

Evidently, I was listening to others and thinking of how lucky they were to have had the opportunity to walk away from someone knowing that hearts were broken and pictures (mental + glossy ones) were burnt. I unfortunately, had never got an opportunity to be the "dumper".

A friend randomly said- Ishi you know in a pack of cards, there are two jokers allowed and once they are exhausted there are just real cards to play with. THIS VERY STATEMENT HAS TAKEN OVER ME.

And so it all began; the thinking process -I changed two schools to finally get to the one I loved, I had to change my Engineering major twice to be a Medical systems engineer that I am today, I ditched two short jobs to get to the one I am loving currently, I even changed my college institution twice to get to Sheffield, two residences to get to West One 403 and on and on and on...

Slowly, this outrage started transcending to the very minute things I did. An example being: checking anything twice before I could believe it, even party invites so ye.

Upon discussing it with someone, his immediate reaction was obviously an explosive laughter - a calm pause followed by a plea to not try skydiving / bungee jumping or marriage for that matter. C'mon who wants to go through it twice to realise it was the third time when things got real.

It made me think, there are people for whom everything just flows smooth. Fancy English medium schools to expensive Universities to dream jobs; its just the obvious demand but for someone like me it was always a staircase that led upwards to something I wanted. Yes the struggle is more , but I certainly think the climb is worth it.

ye ye , I know Grapes are sour. Of course I would want to be the former category but I developed the love to see the suspense at the end of my staircase.

I would walk into a store with just this hope that I find my size, a shoe shop with something I would like, an online exhibit with something I had in my mind, ice cream store hoping for the kiwi flavour, nail bar with the colour I fancy, etc.

The expectation made it so exciting. The wait if I could not get what I wanted ; even more exciting. The alternate plans: epic.

It was like waiting for the jokers to end and real stuff to play with (sometimes literally, wink)

From Blahniks to Oshos: Manipal

Dreaming of Blahniks since 16, I saw myself stepping into Oshos and hitting the very edge of Karnataka, the place where population under 17 was unheard of.

Direct flights were a luxury non-existent to Delhi-ites, the Mangalore airport: a suicidal risk and bus journeys from Bangalore:a revenge from the Ghats.

Not left with much choice, I sat in the white ambassador overlooking the MIT banner advertisement at the Mangalore airport. The anna (analogous to bhaiya of Delhi) looked at me and said: "First time?" sounding absolutely inconsiderate of the tears in my eyes. After about 30 minutes of awkwardness, he turned back again giving me the goosebumps by completely ignoring the head-on traffic on that undivided carriage way and asked: "Valley view?" I shrugged and said Yes.

Entered Manipal, which was exactly a 15 minute strip off the motor way, I arrived at the hotel I was booked in, Valley view indeed. Neat white building housing the ITC trainees, much to my surprise just stood out from the rest of the town. The porter managed to tell me in just about 5 minutes of my arrival how the building used to be a student accommodation for rich spoilt children coming from Delhi who took infinite years to finish their bachelor's in Medicine. I feel it had something to do with my innumerable bags or maybe just my passport which said New Delhi.

Nevertheless, I loved my room overlooking a few buildings which I had no clue were about then ( later I discovered was the emergency ward of KMC). I freshened up and headed down to look for my building and fellow college mates who had also arrived for the Orientation weekend.

The autos were 'THE' thing there. These very fancy accent flaunting men would drive you around like they bought the rights to the road yesterday. Drove me to Manipal Stores, the auto driver waited anxiously as I ticked everything on my bare necessities list and in no time the owner of the shop started publicising about some bar/club he owned to owning every hookah flavour in the market. Honestly at that juncture in my life, the LEAST I cared about was dancing at a club or smoking sheesha with the auto-walas (since those were the only people I had met till then).

Roaming about in the MIT Campus, I was yet to discover the existence of my college, the International Centre for Applied Sciences. Asked a few people who looked at me as if I had asked for the directions to the Arctic Circle. So my college was two floors big in a glass facade building with an official staff strength of 3, okay maybe 4.

The biggest fear that I was avoiding till now was discovering the hostel and my roommate. I was expecting an old tattered building and tiny cubicle rooms with vamp looking wardens who cane you if you are late or absent. It was exactly the opposite.

A big space equally divided into two with plenty of light seeping through the wide windows gave me a reassuring satisfaction.

True to what people say, Once in Manipal, you build your own little world, I fell in love with the intricate details of that place. From the ignorant auto annas refusing to converse in our country's mother tongue, hindi to bribing akkas with henna cones to stay out for just one extra day.

From the silence of the End point to the roaring seas at Malpe beach, from so the called oriental food at China valley to Manicures lasting however long you want at U-Like, from 70 rupees tequila shots to the most expensive meal for 200 rupees at Valley view, we build our own little world which had seam less boundaries.

First since March 2009

Got re-directed to my blog- space today.

Apparently been blogging since March 2009, I had nothing to read on my own space, not a trace. I am trying to recollect (very hard) when I got rid of it, which is leading me to questions like what did I write about when I was 20 years old? to the dead(-est) end "Why, why did I shred everything?"

Sitting on that sultry evening in one of the so called posh Shambhavi apartments in Manipal, I can remember very faintly working on my HP when a friend told me, "Hey do you know what hp stands for?" I gave the typical "Do I care about THAT when my laptop hangs every 10 seconds in the middle of my assignment , more importantly facebook-ing " look. But he was just not convinced.

I obviously gave in since of course opening Google would take ages.

He said "It stands for Hewlett Packard and you should know why"

Pause followed by several minutes of no acknowledgement as to why we were discussing that. I went back to working/socialising.

I saw his blog the same day, not entirely convinced by the need of it. But the fan following clearly was contrary to my thinking. I started reading very regularly ( I wish I had the liberty to post the link for it here) . It soon became a habit, more like a necessity. As the editor of my college magazine, I even tried to include his writings in the annual yearbook with little success.

Time just winked past and 2 years later sitting in cold Sheffield town, this time in an actually posh apartment , I was doing what every engineer of my grade was- Vigorously applying for jobs. I came across a Business Analyst opening at HP. To sound "know it all" in the application form, I decided to read a little about the company.

What took me by surprise was the story behind how the brand name: Hewlett Packard came up.

Started by two friends Bill Hewlett and David Packard, the name deciding ceremony was the trickiest one. Will it be hp or ph? Flipping a coin was decided to be the way to go. Packard won kept it Hewlett Packard. Selflessness at its peak.

That statement took me and put me on the same bed two years ago in Manipal and it hit me as to why I was asked about this in the first place.

Not in touch with people years later makes me feel that we love to have it our own way. I don't know where is he, who told me about this but has obviously left something to ponder about and the reason to start writing again. Selflessness at its peak ; I must say.