Yes or No???

குளிந்த  டிசம்பர் மாதம், அதிகாலை 7 மணி; அன்று  ஒரு முக்கியமான நாள்;  எனக்கு பெண் பார்த்துக் கொண்டிருந்தனர் என் வீட்டில்; பல பேரிடம் விசாரித்து பல பெண்களிலிருந்து ஒருவர்  என்று  முடிவு செய்யும் வேளை. அனைவருக்கும் இருப்பது போல் எனக்கும் ஆயிரம் கனவுகள், தலை கால் புரியாத நிலை.

அன்று தான் நான் எனக்கு பார்த்த ஒரு  பெண்ணை சந்தித்து, கலந்து பேசி, முடிவு செய்யும் தருணம்.  இரவில் தூக்கம் செரியாக வரவில்லை. அதே எதிர்பார்போடு விடிந்தது அந்த காலை.

Annanagar, Madras; Coffee Shop - 8:55 AM :-

எந்த meeting க்கும் செரியா ன நேரத்தில் போகாத நான் 5 நிமிடத்திற்கு முன்னால் சென்ற ஆச்சர்யம் அன்று .

அதோ அவள் வந்தாள்; சரியாக 9 மணி; இருக்கையில் இருந்து எழுந்தேன், வரவேற்றேன்; அமர்ந்தேன்; 

"Hello" என்றால் ஒரு சிறிய புன்னகையுடன் ...

"Hello, Thanks for coming. எப்டி இருக்கீங்க?" என்று வழக்கமாக தொடங்குவது போல் தொடங்கினேன்!

"Hmm நல்ல இருக்கேன்";

 "இந்த meeting எவ்ளோ நேரம் இருக்கும்?", என்று எதில்  தொடங்குவதென்று  தெரியாமல் கேட்டாள்.  

"நீங்கள் எப்போ வேன்னாலும் கை குலுக்கீட்டு கெலம்பலாம்; நமக்கு  15 minutes போதும்னு  நான் anticipate பன்றேன். நம்ம order  பண்ண coffee ய குடிச்சு முடிக்கறவரைக்கும் " 

நாங்கள் இருவரும் order பண்ண Coffee வந்தது;

"What do you know about me yet?" என்று பேச்சை ஆரம்பித்தாள் . I actually thought it was a good conversation starter.

" Hmm...உங்கள பத்தி???...

   உங்க பேரு மீனா னு தெரியும். 

   நீங்க ஒரு Architect;

   நம்ம ரெண்டு பேருக்கும் கல்யாணம் பேசுறாங்கன்னு தெரியும்

   So far so much" 

என்று சொன்னேன்.

"நீங்க என்ன இந்த கேள்வி கேக்கவே இல்லையே!" என்றாள் 

"சொல்லுங்களேன். Let me listen to you talk" என்று கையை கன்னத்தில் வைத்து கேக்க தயாரானேன்.

"Nothing; Just curious. That is why I am here to meet you today." இந்த girls ரொம்ப brilliant, தேவைக்கு அதிகமா ஒரு வார்த்த பேச மாட்டங்க. 

"True. I am very curious too...

'Meena' எனக்கு ரொம்ப புடிச்ச பேரு. 

அம்மா photo காமிச்சாங்க; என்னமோ சரி ன்னு பட்டுச்சு. மத்த photo க்கள் பாத்த போது ஏற்படாத feeling" என்றேன் என்  Coffee mug யில் ஒரு sip குடித்தபடி;  

அதை தொடர்ந்து ஒரு நொடி நிறைந்த மௌனம். இருவரும் பேசவில்லை. இருவர் கண்களும் ஒரு முறை சந்தித்தது முதல் முறையாக.

நான் எதாவது சொல்லணும் conversation னை நகர்த்தி செல்ல, "You seem to be a studious person" என்றேன் அசட்டுத்தனமாக.

"நீங்களும் தான்; உங்க Specs அப்படியே காமிச்சு  குடுதுருச்சு"

"என் கண்ணாடிய நம்பவே நம்பாதிங்க. நான் Engineering படிச்சேன்னு தான் பேரு ஆனா அத பத்தி எனக்கு ஒன்னுமே தெரியாது"

"உங்களுக்கு Cricket ரொம்ப பிடிக்குமாம்மே?"

"ரொம்ப ரொம்ப பிடிக்கும். நான் ஒரு Cricket பைத்தியம். In fact, Cricket is my first wife."

"Oh, அப்டியா...Why are you looking for another wife then? என்று கேட்டாள் ஒரு அசட்டுச் சிரிப்போடு.

"Perhaps to love me in return. Cricket என்னோட ஒரு தலை காதல்; Cricket என்ன திரும்பி love பண்ணவே மாட்டேன்குது...
Talking about first loves, உங்க first love என்ன?" என்று சாதுரியமாக வினவினேன்.

"Coffee!!! இந்த coffee க்கு Thanks to you."  என்றாள் புருவத்தை உயர்த்தியபடி சிரித்து கொண்டே சாமர்த்தியமாக . 

மறுபடியும் மௌனம் . நான் அவளை ஒரு நொடி கண் இமைக்காமல் பார்த்தேன். கவிதையாய் இருந்தது.

Marriage பற்றி  அவளின் opinion யை கேட்க வேண்டும் என்று தோன்றியது. சரியான சந்தர்பத்திற்கு கூட பொறுக்காமல், " What is marriage, உங்களை பொறுத்த வரையில்?" என்று கேட்டுவிட்டேன்.

"Living for each other" என்று பளிச்சென்று  பதிலளித்தல்; விழுந்தே விட்டேன்.

அவளின் அளந்த பேச்சும் அமைதியான அழகும் என்னை சாய்த்து விட்டது.

"BILL  Please",  என்று I called for the bill.

"எனக்கு நான் கொடுக்குறேன், நீங்க உங்களுக்கு கொடுங்க" என்று திட்டவட்டமாக கூறினாள்.

"ஏன்??? நான் கொடுக்ககுடாத?" என்று கோவித்தபடி கேட்டேன் .

"நீங்க ஏன் எனக்கு கொடுக்கணும்?"

"வீட்டுக்கு போன  அம்மா அப்பா கேப்பாங்க, சம்மதமானு...'பிடிச்சிருக்கு' னு சொல்ல போறேன்...இப்போ நான் உன் coffee க்கு pay பண்ணலாமா ?"

            

               அகண்ட கண்கள், ஒரு  நிறைந்த பார்வை, கீழ் உதட்டின் ஓரத்தில் சிறு புன்னகை; வேறொன்றும் இல்லை பேசுவதற்கு. அவளின் அந்த மௌனமே எனக்கு சம்மதம் தெரிவித்தது. 

எழுந்தாள், திரும்பினாள், நடந்து சென்றாள்.

இக்கற்பனை மீனாள் உண்மையாக வேண்டி,

விக்னேஷ் நாகப்பன், அண்ணாமலை           

        

Episode 3: ‘The fine line between to be and not’

Viji had Karthick’s image running on her head all day. More so then, as it was time for the bus trip back home. Perhaps that was why she ended up taking the seat that she took in the bus. Viji couldn't decide what Karthick meant to her by then. So, she let things be as they were. Time is the best judge, she thought.

Amid all these thoughts, Karthick just crossed her to take the seat in front of her. She couldn't believe what Karthick was doing. She turned nervous with him very nearby.

No matter how nervous girls are they manage to never show any signs of it. Viji began talking incessantly with Nithya, her friend sitting beside her on the two-seater. That is how girls usually react when consumed by the situation.

That was when Karthick decided to turn up with his introduction.

‘This is Karthick; Guess you have heard me alright’, Karthick repeated.

Viji was pleasantly taken aback and hadn’t reacted until Karthick spoke the second time.

‘Hi, it’s Viji. Nice to know you.’ Viji greeted in a mellow voice with a smile.

Karthick turned numb in joy for a second or two. He had actually heard her talk!

‘I am a third year student. I study Electrical & Electronics’ Karthick had to say something to fill the silence.

‘Oh good...I just joined today. Electronics and I are miles apart. I have taken textile technology’ Viji spoke little considering how much her eyes did.

‘Textile Technology, I understand, must be interesting.’ Karthick just wanted to keep the chat going.

‘Yes, far better than how interesting Electronics must be, I presume.’ Viji for the first time let her smile unveil her milky white teeth. Karthick just felt heaven in as close as inches away.

The next couple of seconds went by quiet. Karthick was visibly lost in the beam of light Viji’s smile let out.

He quickly had to cover up with a question.

‘So, how do you like our college?’ Karthick was playing his part as her senior.

‘I just hope it is good. I should be here for 4 years, now that I have made a choice.’ said Viji, putting back the strands of hair that fell on her face.

Nithya was left out amidst all this. She had to pitch in herself, ‘Hi...This is Nithya, Viji’s friend.’

‘Hello’ said Karthick and carried on his talk with Viji. Viji didn’t bother to drag Nithya into the conversation either.   

‘How badly I want a change of seat now’ Nithya murmured to herself.

‘I don’t think ragging should be an issue in our college; even if so I shall see to that you have no problem...’ actually the fact was Karthick was speaking non-sense just for the sake of talking something.

Karthick couldn't make out what Viji's thoughts were. He was just pleased Viji's replies weren't only one to two words, because that is usually a please-stop-this-non-sense sort of indicative from girls. 

Karthick gathered guts from Viji's demeanour, 'Actually I am beating around the bush here. I introduced myself to you just because I had one thing to say. And that is, you look beautiful!!!'

Viji was jumping up and down though she didn't actually move a muscle. Her eyes were totally engulfed in joy. She wished she heard that once again.

'Oh! Thank you.' Viji said very little given how much she felt elated. Girls normally are very good at playing down their emotions. 

Nithya regretted she had to sit through all this, 'Oh gosh! What more melodrama should I encounter for today?' she told herself. People who are out of that infatuating bubble would feel it all too exaggerated.

'In fact, did you notice me looking at you in the morning? If you didn't, you know that now.' Karthick emphatically declared.

'Actually, I did notice that. It was so obvious' chirped her reply with a shy face.

'Was it so obvious?!' grinned Karthick. 'I thought I did it secretly. I am...I am sorry had I disturbed you doing so.' 

'That's alright. But I never thought you would come up and talk to me today . Even if that happened, I never imagined you would confess to what happened in the morning.'

'That's me. I wanted to say what I felt. That can't be wrong, can it?' karthick said.

Nithya sighed. She knew she wouldn't be able to take in anymore of this. She moved to a seat 2 rows back immediately after the seat was vacated.

Viji and Karthick thanked Nithya non-verbally nodding to each other with a sheepish look.

'I appreciate that. Not many would have been so genuine.' Viji couldn't hold back a compliment. 

Girls offer compliments only when pushed to their limits of admiration. If you manage to pull one out of them, you can be sure you deserve the compliment totally. Karthick very much did. Truth alone labels a person as good.

The bus was soon approaching Karthick's stop. His day was already made. He had said all that he wanted to. He had time for a few closing lines.

'So...I am so glad I got to know you. I wish you have a wonderful 4 years of college. And, this will be a day I remember.' Karthick ended. 
The last line on that being a day to remember implied more than what it actually meant, atleast to Viji.

Viji offered a smile in return, to go with a wave of the hand to mean bye. 

Its boys who let out such loose lines that give-away their exact feeling. Girls are so measured in what they talk. Hardly can others make out what is going through their minds from their talks. Girls teach us many things in life. This is one important lesson to be learnt from them.

On retrospection through his walk back home, Karthick couldn't read too much in-between the lines during his conversation with Viji. Karthick was left wondering what Viji's feeling for him was.  

Viji sat by the window on the bus after Karthick left and smirked on and off. She called up Nithya, made her sit beside her, apologised and made up with her. 

'So, you guys...what is going on?' Nithya asked.
'I don't quite know.' Viji giggled. 
'Smells like something is brewing!' Nithya said and stood up to leave. 


          -End of Episode 3-

Cheers,
nagappstheblogger!!!
    

Brewing up some Romance! - Episode 2

Episode 2: 'Seeing eye-to-eye'

It was a windy July morning in Coimbatore. One of the best things about Coimbatore is its mornings; pleasant, calm and serene.

Karthick, 22, had an eye for the beauty of the ambience around him. His residence was in a posh locality. He enjoyed his regular early morning dip in the swimming pool near his house. Though he was brought up in Chennai, Coimbatore was special to him because of all this.

He was in the 3rd year of his Engineering Course. He used to take the college bus for college daily. It was a 40 min drive from his residence to the college. He had to be waiting at his bus stop on or before 7. 40 am. Getting ready and being on time for his bus was the most difficult thing for him to achieve.

That day was no different.

His mother would drive their sky blue colour Santro to drop him from their house to the bus stop daily; It was 7. 42 am already and they hadn't started from home yet; he was terribly late that day. His mother now had to follow the bus, over take it and reach the next stop before the bus could arrive to make Karthick board the bus. She was used to doing that over the last three years and by then had become an expert at overtaking buses.

Karthick reached the bus after two stops than usual, got down from the car and ran for the bus to board it before it could move on. With his adrenaline pumping, he huffed and puffed into the bus as he waved bye to his mother.

The seating arrangement in college buses is very interesting generally. In some cases, boys are given the seats at back half and girls at the front half. In other cases, the vice versa applies. The professors and lecturers travelling form the middle of the sandwich usually.

In Karthick's college bus, it was the second case. Boys had to be near the front end, and girls were at the back end where the only door to the bus was. The logic, which Karthick understood later, was that boys when near the door could tease girls when they get in and get out of the bus. Wonder why the contrary didn't logically appeal to the world as much. Girls can be naughtier than boys as a matter of fact.

So Karthick walked through the girls section of seats and reached the boys area of the bus. He couldn't find any seats to sit down, thanks to his late coming . He found a pole for support and stood by. His hands searched the flap inside his bag and took out his headset. He tuned into songs that suited the weather that day.

There was some fresh colour in the bus. He couldn't help but turn his head around the girls section. Boys are boys.

At the last seat of the bus in the left extreme corner, there was this girl draped in an elegant white chudidhar. Her face was glowing against the beam of light falling in through the window. Her eyes were deep and sharp. Her hair was signing in tune with the breeze entering the moving bus. Her smile was in short spells, creating its own small audience leaving them spell bound.

Karthick couldn't do anything but keep his eyes on her. The music on his ears started to make no sense. She turned her head left; he did as well. She turned right; he did as well. Karthick had turned into a key operated toy by then.

Girls are girls; they notice guys glancing at them even from kilometres long, thanks to their special powers and gossipy friends.

Viji was no different. That was how she first took notice of Karthick. That was how Karthick and Viji saw eye-to-eye.

Viji liked the fact that she was getting attention. Any girl would be lying if they say otherwise. She found Karthick to be charming. His eager eyes, trimmed hair and dark eye brows were partly responsible for her pounding heart-beat then. The present-yet-absent moustache and beard combined well to give him a boyish-manly figure. His white wrist watch and white head-sets went well-noticed by Viji. Girls tend to notice apparels and add-ons first more than anything else. Karthick wore the customary boy dress, a rugged blue jean and quasi-formal shirt. There was nothing special in it, but Viji felt a strange sense of warmth about it.

Karthick wondered if Viji made out about him looking at her. Karthick questioned God why boys didn't have the privilege of super-sensory powers like girls did.

The college seemed to have moved a lot closer that day, as the bus journey turned very short for the two. But for others, the 40 min strenuous ride came to an end as the bus reached the college place.

Viji, had a look around the college she was to study in even as she kept one eye on Karthick as he began to move to his block. College was never the same again for Karthick. His previous two years in the college meant no sense, eversince the girl he saw on the bus.

8 long boring class hours went by; Karthick couldn't wait for the evening trip back home. Viji felt a connection with the college. She met new people and had a happening day in the classroom.

The bell rang at 4.30. That was all for the day. It was exciting times again.

Karthick picked up a cup of machine-made coffee from the cafeteria near the bus station. He sipped in with anxiety waiting for her to arrive. A few of his friends gave him company as they normally do but he tried to avoid them. Sometimes friends can be a pain.

Karthick recollected his morning bus journey. He very well knew that the feeling he had for the girl he saw was an age bound thing. It was just the pleasure of admiring beauty.

As mature as he was in deciphering that feeling, Karthick was a confident chap and a strong character. He treated women with great regard. His actions were definitive in most cases. He had a good sense of humour about his talk. He didn't want to be dogging behind the girl. That wasn't his nature. He believed in being direct. He wished to talk to her, get introduced and convey that she looked beautiful.

He had planned for all that to happen that evening in the bus!

It was time to get into the bus. Viji entered and took the seat right at the middle of the bus, which incidentally happened to be the first row of the seats allocated for girls just behind the last row allotted for boys. It was a two-seater. She had a friend sitting beside her. Karthick entered the bus. He had to seize the opportunity that Viji presented him by opting for the immediate row to the boys. Karthick rushed to take the seat right before Viji's row. Karthick thanked his lucky starts, for there were no lecturers in the vicinity that evening on the bus.

Karthick, given the confident person he is, turned fidgety. No matter how rigid a man is, a pleasant-looking girl can do wonders by actually doing nothing. He opened his window; and closed it. He opened his bag; and closed it. He ran his hand between his hairs; pushed his watch back and forth and fidgeted around;

He made his mind up, then opened his water bottle; had a sip; gasped; turned his head abruptly and said, 'Hi, this is Karthick. How about you', to Viji.


            - End of Episode 2 -

Cheers,
nagappstheblogger!!!

Brewing up some romance! - Episode 1

Preface:

It has been over 2 years since I started to write. From aimless amateurish writing to making it a serious hobby, it has been an interesting metamorphosis. One important pit stop in this journey is this attempt to write a story in a series of episodes. I had this thought as a distant plan once upon a time; I now believe I am all set for it with ample time in hand before I start my management masters later this year.

‘Brewing up some romance’ is intended to be a simple light-hearted love story; I wish to communicate the way I see love and romance; the way I would want to feel love in my life. I thought for a first attempt at writing stories this genre would be the ideal start given that all life I have been inspired by love in some form or the other. I know translating the feeling of love to words would not be a child’s play. I only have the honesty of thought to accomplish this precarious task. Let us see how it goes. Hope all of you like it.  

Episode 1: ‘The four-letter word’

 It was 8 in the evening. The family was in full attendance for dinner on the dinner table. It was a practice for the family to have food together. Cook Palani had everything ready in order to start.

‘Prayers first’, Balan said as he sat, before anyone could start.

‘Needless to say, dad! It has become a habit. I have done my prayers. God wants me to eat now’, 19 year old Vijayalakshmi (Viji), Balan’s only daughter replied.

‘So...Idlys and chapattis for today!’, cook Palani opened the dishes.

Ten minutes went by concentrating on food without a word uttered. Balan’s wife Geetha peeked at every plate other than hers’ to see to that Viji didn’t under eat and her husband didn’t over eat. Balan was irked with the attention his plate was getting. He decided to break the silence around the table so that he could get some respite from his over-caring wife.

‘Palani, how is your wife doing now?’, Balan floated a question. Knowing Palani and his chatty nature, his job to divert attention was done hands down.

‘She should be fine. She is not with me now. She has fled with her new found love, Nair. I wish she is happy now’, Palani replied with a touch of regret and lots of warmth for his wife.

‘That is nothing I should be disheartened about. She left me not because she didn’t like me; she left because she liked somebody else’, Palani was calm and collected.

Viji, just at the end of her teens, was all ears to Palani. She couldn’t miss noticing the sincerity of love in Palani’s eyes for his wife given what had happened.

‘Nair is a good man. He must be taking care of my wife very well’, Palani went on, his tone far from lamenting.

‘They were working together in a company. I think they should have fallen in love then’, Palani’s monologue seemed it had no end.

The thing about the characteristics of people who occupy a low profile in the society, who generally are without an audience, is that they speak their hearts and souls out in a hint of a chance offered to them. They search for affection in everyone. They move with no egos.

Palani was one such. His descriptive nature comes from his loneliness and the want for affection. Each of us has been a Palani at times. How often have we felt lonely even with so many relatives and friends around?

Viji was confused with the fact that Palani showed no hate for his wife after the incident. Balan couldn’t accept the fact either while Geetha was already in admiration for Palani’s resilience and purity of love.

‘Love can be blind sometimes. But not this time; Nair looks very smart; way better than I do. I have seen him once. It must be for his beauty that my wife fell for’, Palani even managed to smile when saying this.

Viji couldn’t find even an iota of frustration or anger in Palani, very much to her surprise. She rather found him to be happy for his wife.

‘Don’t you feel angry for what she did anna?’, Viji couldn’t refrain from asking.

‘Why should I? She chose the one she liked. How could that make me angry?’, Palani said as he moved to serve a chapatti to Balan.

‘This beauty thing is a trap. When you go behind it, you would end up bored of it one day. She will then come back one day’, he sounded a touch philosophical.

Geetha chipped in with the most obvious question, ‘Would you, in that case, take her back?’

‘Why not! What wrong has she done?’, Palani said dismissing the question as if it was a stupid one.

Viji was getting a lesson what the four-letter word actually meant. She, the teenager, influenced by movies and fictional stories couldn’t have understood love the right way. For movies, serials and drama do nothing more than exaggerate or trivialize love in equal measure.

She understood cinematic absurdities like cutting one’s veins or tattooing the name of the lover on the body can’t be the epitome of showing one’s love. She now knew love was not what she actually thought it was; or for that matter what most of us think it is.  

Balan could strike a chord with Palani now and was happy Viji was hearing all this right at the brink of her prospective love life.

Dinner was done. It was time for bed. Viji’s thoughts couldn’t move any further from Palani anna for that night.          

4 weeks later:

Viji had just joined college in her hometown Coimbatore. She was hoping college to be a dream time of 4 years for her. She was anxious and all set for her first day at college. Her home was 50 minutes away from college and preferred to use the college bus to commute between home and college. 

One fine morning on the college bus, Viji met Karthick.

-          End of Episode 1  -

  

 Credits- Episode1 : An Inspiration from K. Balachander’s Kai Alavu Manasu.  

Cheers,

nagappstheblogger!!!

I will remember this!

On Board the aircraft SpiceJet 282                                                      18^th June, 2013

                                I am writing this piece several thousand feet above the sea level. People say they are on cloud nine. A peep round the corner of my window reminds me that I am typing my mind to my laptop screen sitting on top of more clouds than nine. Nature’s beauty, in view now, is taking me to joy which know no bounds. So, what better time could I have to do what I really like doing. Here I am narrating what I am going through on this plane.

First let me tell you people where I am heading to from Chennai; it is to Ahmedabad for a 4 day seminar on entrepreneurial excellence for young entrepreneurs at IIM-A. I got this lucky opportunity through our business’ banker ICICI. This seminar is organised by them in a tie-up with the IIM faculty to explore and educate on tackling the challenges of entrepreneurship and businesses. ICICI gets to invite few from each zone to the conclave. I believe my father’s excellent rapport with the bank and their trust on him might have got me this chance. Enough said about why I am on this flight. There is far too much happening here, so why am I not moving onto the niceties around me right now.

I entered on board wondering if boredom would catch me like it often does while travelling alone; sat down on my seat 29A at the tail of the aircraft. This being a noon flight on a weekday, the flight wasn't full. The seats next to me went unoccupied. That perfectly suited the idea to blog with only loneliness around. The take off had just happened and I have typed the first few paragraphs since. The fully stretched view of marina’s shores from here is breathtaking. Chennai can be, indeed, so beautiful too. I am now looking down on the clouds. It is quite different from usually looking up to see them. I see its shadow falling down on the city from what they call a top view in engineering classes. Each shadow likened its respective cloud exactly in shape like a mirror image. I see that they are the only shades to save Chennai for the scorching sun.  

I am now allowed to take my seat beats off. I immediately rush to the lavatory to answer to nature’s call.

I am back. As sit down, I glance at the air-hostess as she brings water. Well, if anybody has the obvious question that I had, the answer is that no one looks good. SpiceJet it is; so, not much to expect. I am now reminded of being on Emirates for a family trip to Europe; they were how air-hostess should be indeed.

We are on cruise mode now. The crew start their food delivery. The food tray comes close to my seat.  I expect it to be complimentary and ask for what juice they have on offer. The hostess says lemon; I take it with a smile in reply to hers. She looks at me and says ‘30’. I had no option but to dish out 30 from my wallet though I didn't need the drink because I would have else looked so dumb. ‘oh no, 30 for two sips of lime water?!!’, I questioned myself. ‘Budget Airline’, I answered my question too.    

The best part of conservative Indian families is, they never lose an opportunity to cut the odd extra expense. I had chapattis packed for lunch as rolls. I now take a break from typing to eat it. It is 1 hour into the flight time of 2 hours and 20 minutes.

10 minutes has passed by since, and all the chapattis are into my stomach. I have felt this feeling and it has been proved by science too. Every time after hunger’s quest is answered, mind takes its break too and dozes off.  What better example than our memories of attending classes after lunch in school and college.  So, I am wondering what I type now.

My mind takes it time and goes to Ahmedabad. It feels uncomfortable of the fact that it has to wage a battle with its supposedly powerful IIM counterparts. Lack of confidence is not something to feel bad of. Everybody goes through that feeling on and off. Although we try to keep it up always, it rocks to the bottom for no apparent reason or the reason of a false fear. I talk my mind through it and say it will do fine there. It doesn't agree and keeps questioning me. I then cast my mind back to the pleasant experiences it has had. It smiles in return and says, ’bring it on’.

By this time, I have lost my ability to hear partially. My wondering thoughts bring me close to the time for descending to Ahmedabad. I am asked to switch off all my electronic devices and open up my window sheet. I am saving this now. I will get back to complete the story.

IIM-A campus Management Development Centre      Room No. 57           22^nd June, 2013  

Four days have gone by since, and it has been an amazing time. The programme had people from diverse businesses; all fresh from starting their own or taking over from their fathers'. I was thrilled to be part of it all. The networking we had was very important and good. Listening from IIM professors, the lessons on management was nothing short of an overwhelming experience. With no real management experience, I was pleasantly surprised to see myself being so participative in the class to the questions of the professors. It sure gave me confidence for my career ahead. At least, it gave me a feeling that I belonged to that coveted group of the best.

A campus tour around IIM-A left me in awe given the beauty of it all. To think this is where India’s top minds come from made my presence unbelievable. I leave this place fully knowing I have had one of the best experiences of my life in the last four days.

I am not sure what I intended to convey through this write-up, maybe the happenings of an air-travel initially; but at the end of it all, the very feeling of living a dream made me finish the way I did to savour the experience for a long professional career ahead; hopefully one that will end successful, satisfied and peaceful.  

Wish me luck,

nagapps-the-entrepreneur

I like being single...

This is such a pleasure. He would be seeing Switzerland on a blackboard; she would be admiring her pretty face on a utensil. While he would, actually, be at his classroom listening to mundane lectures and she would be washing her cooking vessels.Yes, I am talking about this four-lettered feeling, love. Isn't it such a pleasure?!!!

A lot has been said about it. Heaps of poems, loads of stories and as many as uncountable novel numbers have explored this feeling. Yet, a lot still remains unsaid about love. That is the magic of this feeling. 

I once heard Tamil speaker Barathi Baskar say, "Poets, writers and invariably all creators are beggars to love in order to make a living." How true..!

I could try and put to words how does it feel like to be in love. But, I know I would miserably fail to do justice even. No, I am not a poor writer; such is the feeling, words hardly help. 

Yet, I shall try and put forward my one-liner on love. It is simple and complex; It is as light as a feather and as strong as rock. I am sorry, the line is as lame as it gets. Cliched by any standards. But I will stick with that definition; cliches are cliches for a reason.

Having said what I have about being in love, I wonder why I have never felt an urge to fall into a marital love yet. After serious soul-searching, here I am blogging on it.

To start with, marital love is not something someone goes on a hunt for. It happens without a reason for a reason. While I totally endorse that viewpoint, there needs to be an urge from within for that happening to happen. The lack of which is what I am debating myself on.

If you are already thinking that I have no taste for beauty nor do I like the idea of love, you can't be more wrong. No one can escape the feeling of love; and I am no exception. That's the very feeling that made me a writer-creator, if you readers acknowledge I am one. 

So I feel love yet I like to be single. How do I explain your next obvious question which is, "why the hell would you not want to have a girl friend?"   

True love often is not seen in a human figure. It is always around; in the air, somewhere there. Just that small-minded mankind tries to give a definitive shape to what is everywhere. 

I have often witnessed how even honest love vaporizes once we bottle up such a magnanimous feeling of love into a confined entity. What happens is, we get bored of seeing it in the same form; and end up targeting our emotional baggage of life to that bored and fed up entity which we call the only love. 

Love is forgotten to be in nature, in God, in good music, in language. These are not something we ever get bored of, the reason being they are all formless and everywhere.

Its hard to blame human beings for being human and feeling love in human forms alone. After all, even religion gives us a figure shape for God to make us follow. That is religion understanding what mindset humans are made of. No human is an exception to not be human. Certainly not I; so I will fall to the trap of figurative love too one day. But I would know at the back of my mind, love has other different forms too. 

So maybe as I feel love already as different entities, there is no real urge for me to pick a girlfriend as yet. That is keeping me waiting for an arranged marriage where I shall open up all the bottled love sourced from the other forms of life to my special her. Marriages are made in heaven; I shall leave my choice and destiny to the God I love through my parents. I cannot stop myself from quoting my favourite poet Kannadasan here to compliment my argument,"Manaivi amaivathellam iraivan kodutha varam". 

When I have told friends that I like to be single and gave the reason that I have given above, people have asked if figurative beauty hasn't attracted me at all. To them I replied, there was never a moment when I have let feminine beauty go unnoticed from my eyes. I enjoy beauty in all forms, the beauty possessed by my opposite sex tops the list of all. I only maintain that, it doesn't make me a candidate to fall in love with one such. 

I agree that love affairs initiated by a strong mutual liking to physical appearances have gone on to become epic ones. I understand mutual admiration to beauty and lust are the much needed fodder for love to take firm roots. I believe, only lust can form the medium to make the two into one, both physically and psychologically. Lust is like the oxidant on the tip of a match stick which gives the ever-lasting fire of love. 

So I have nothing against being committed, it is just that I like being single.

I also feel it is important to be single for a considerable while, because it helps develop a craving sense of affection to the partner we are to find. I often get the idea that the feeling of love is something that is definite. The human mind needs to have a cause for exhibiting love. I say mind, and not heart; because heart can pour indefinite love. But unfortunately, it is the mind that controls human activities in most cases for most individuals. Mind likes playing tit for tat. It argues why should I smile when she stares. So, that is when this being-in-single-time comes in handy. It makes us feel the importance of a companion and value the relationship. That is when the heart unknowingly takes over the mind to make sure it gets the love it desperately wants.

The when-am-I-going-to-find-my-one and who-is-going-to-be-the-one feelings are also a thrilling part of being single. Trust me, there is nothing like falling in love. And so, there is nothing like having to wait for it.

So, I shall happily live with being single for now. This is also a feeling that should be enjoyed as much as the feeling of being in a relationship. 

For committed detractors who think we are to be pitied I end by saying, 'Sorry, we are having a blast; by feeling love in all that we sense.'

Cheers,

the-happily-single-vikinagapps!!!

    

The league of Cricket

The hammer had come down on the winning bids; Millions of Dollars exchanged hands to determine the owners of the IPL teams. The year 2008 was given the luxury to give birth to a tournament which every cricket fan dreamt of. Every Indian cricket fan had another team other than the Indian national team to root for. Cricket meant business is every way possible.

The gentleman’s game had a few questions unanswered from its younger generation of followers. A freakish quick fun form of their beloved game was the forefront of their demands. Promptly catering to their demands, and much more, T20 cricket originated. Cricket could now very-well serve fans with five intensive classy days or bundle that all up into one or even make it a 3 and a half hour dug-out watch. The IPL was born in the latest format and gave cricket its version of the EPL. Young fans thrilled with only speed, now not only had Soccer, but also a faster-than-soccer version of Club Cricket with IPL.

As a die-hard fan of cricket from my childhood days, I most welcomed the club form of cricket. Cricket with only 10 odd competing countries on a regular basis needed a bit more diversity on the field. The circuit of tours became routine and nevertheless felt repetitive within the 10 countries. Unfortunately for a fanatic who thrives for variety in his sport, countries like France and China remain on a cricket field only as The French cut and the China-man.

As someone who sees the game with a classical eye, I needed the display of different skill sets on the field to keep me spell-bound. Only that in-fact would do justice to the beauty of the game itself. Naturally one can only expect different geographies to bring different dishes of food to one’s plate. The Windies are heavily built by body and are good athletes in nature helping them to exhibit a raw form of adamant cricket. So they run up and bowl fast, hit the deck hard, with a carefree attitude towards batting and a celebratory mode of athletic fielding. The Australian mindset is to dig-in, be gritty and bring in their die-hard ways into the field. The Asians love to keep things easy, not run around too much. Rather their natural physiques doesn't allow them to as much as the Africans. So the intend to fox with spin, play with wrists, display elegance more than arrogance. The inventors of the game are quite different as well; they play flamboyantly even as they stay true to their coaching manuals by playing technically correct. The pitches and weather also have helped in the evident differences in the playing styles of the different countries as well. To my delight, the IPL has filled this void of not many cultures in the game by mixing up cultures and creating new-brands of cricket on the field of play. To me personally, this is the best gift that the IPL has given the game’s followers.

You now have a team set fielding benchmarks, while some others set those for team-effort, strategies and the like, in more scales than just the 10 different ways by the teams in the international scene. All this boils down to add to the interest levels of the millions of the game’s lovers. 

Ultimately every sport is a business. Rather every move on earth, when looked with a microscope, is made with a business motive. I see international cricket being a business as well. There is no place for pride. How can it be in a case when it isn't an international event like a World cup, or a champion’s trophy? Mere repeated bi-laterals are just no fodder to playing for pride under the country’s name. They are just planned and aimed at turning over revenues for the respective boards. In India’s case, BCCI is not even a government entity. It is using its tag as the country’s cricket controlling board, as appointed by the Sports ministry of India, to name the team as a national team and generate revenues with the sport for the nation. So let IPL be commercialized the way it is; being commercialized will only do well to the game in the country.

For a fan, I would say, commercialization of the league would help to engage him better with the game. He would follow the business transactions of his team. The picks they opt for and the prospective worthiness of the bid would drive crazy the business mind of a cricket geek. He feels he owns the team. He buys their merchandises, plays their songs, and wears a thinking cap on him to help his captain on the field through his TV room. All his team needs to owe him back is, to play spirited cricket on the field.The IPL prospers in developing new friends, and foes too. The fellow Indian team fan would now have turned a competitor when their teams take on each other. It all adds to the fun and intensity of club cricket. I atleast hope, one day IPL like EPL would dominate international fixtures; the reason only being, it engages its viewers a lot more than the mere namesake pride riding on an international game even if it originally wasn't meant to be a battle for pride.  But for now, the IPL is here to stay and stay in our hearts forever.

Cheers and regards,

nagappstheblogger!!!

A day with my specs...

The alarm bell rang loud at the stroke of 7'o clock in the morning, "Oh no, it is morning again", I told myself.

The frustration was over breaking a nice and sound early morning sleep on a cold day. The day might have lots to offer to us. But nothing is worth it than the sleep we get after putting down the sound of our alarm.

'Snooze', I pressed on my mobile.

I curled into my blanket and enjoyed the early morning air on a beautiful morning.

After six snoozes and two shouts from my mom all the way from her kitchen door, I finally woke up for the day. It was 8 on the clock.

I fiddled round the corner of my bed to grab my spectacles and pushed in to the rest room to pick up my toothbrush and paste.

From now on, my spectacles will narrate the story, rather its journey through the day...

I moved out of the rest room sitting firming on the nose of my boss as he took me to the kitchen once done with his morning duties.

The kitchen was with its early morning very busy look to it. I scanned through the dishes in preparation for the day. They had a nice blend of color among them. My boss requested mom for some coffee and took me out to the balcony...

I checked out the clouds and the greenery on view across the balcony door. It was a nice and bright day. The lush grass and the small bamboo tree nearby was just perfectly beautiful. I couldn't believe I was treated so well. Thanks to my boss. He is my man.

His mug of coffee arrived and he was set to read the day's newspapers. My day to work had started then...

I skimmed through the papers on his orders. I read about India's name-sake democracy that is in place, raising rape cases and assaults, political issues surrounding religion, caste and the like, India's increasing fiscal deficits and Sachin Tendulkar being urged to retire for the umpteenth time.

I soon thought, 'I must be an idiot to think I am treated well', this time thanks to the news in the society.

The last sip of the coffee mug was tasted, signalling the end of newspaper for the day.

I was removed and placed in my box and had to wait for my man to finish his bath. Well, I surely needed that rest to freshen up as well.

Hot idlys and red hot chutney was served for breakfast. I could only treat on the visual appeal of the food and appetize my man. I enjoyed the food my way though!

Both of us were done and time had arrived to start for his office.

My boss wiped me to take away any dirt I had accumulated as we trodded down the stairs. We got into our car and started our ride.

The traffic in the city was as usually insane. To whichever side I turned to I saw vehicles, only vehicles and nothing else. The car inched its way as pedestrians overtook us. The pollution in the air was uneasy too. Thank God I didn't have means to listen to the noise of honks of different frequencies. Else I would have cried no doubt.

"The first file of the day", he said as we sat down on our office cubicle.

I was back to my reading assignment once again. It was a long day ahead. Files weren't as bad as the newspapers though. So I was okay with it.

The one good thing about being specs to the eyes of a young man who is just into his twenties is that he has an eye for beauty. He helped me romance with the eyes of young women. Oh boy!!! almost every woman had artistic eyes and a beautiful smile. Maybe the age of my man had its effect on this opinion of mine. But I didn't complain.

I cheated my man to check out girls the way I shouldn't be doing. It was easy for me. No man has control over his brain when doing this. He doesn't listen to anything but the stimulus of the girl around him. I think girls are no different. And I am sure the girls would agree with me on this.

As I feasted on the the dark eye-brows, sharp eye-lashes, the cute curly hair running around the ears periodically put back and forth by long thin feathers of fingers, I didn't think I needed to shut down even for a minute.

It was 6.30 in the evening. It was time for another coffee. This time to denote the end of the day's work.

My man is a quite a romantic unlike many others in the world who only let their work and self, dominate the many pleasures of the world. He took me to the beach in the evening after the work day.

I took a stroll on the sands of the beach as my guy enjoyed the fresh wave of wind hitting his face slightly moving me from my seat as well. It was refreshing though it carried a few particles of sand along with it.

We reached the sea. We saw it covered by the sun-set sky. It had a mixed bed of dull white clouds with pale red rays of sun. The blue sea extended to this sky; the sky extended to the horizon and that was the end of the world-the simple world that we are complicating so much.

The sea waves rose and hit the shores and our feet. It went back, rose and reached us again. And again. It was unrelenting. It held a huge potential force in it seemingly teaching us the way to lead our lives. I concentrated on the waves; followed its movement from its origin to our feet. Nothing that I had seen earlier had been so fulfilling.

By that time, the night had descended and the crescent moon gave a shy look to the sky as if it was romancing the waves beneath it. We had seen the best and that set us on our way back home.

Once him and I reached home, he gave me a break to wash his face and put me back on.

His sister brought him a glass of deliciously looking Orange Juice. In an anxiety to quench his thirst he splashed a few drops on me and only wiped me off after his drink.

I am not sure what it was- the girls, the sea waves or the juice, that set his mood right for writing something. Perhaps it was the combination of all three that made him take his pen and pen down that night. I must say he is a good writer. Rather when in such a good space of mind, most people are good creators.

That is how I got to narrate my story of the day to his readers. You will have to tell him how well I did that. That apart, I am narrating to make a point; that you should serve your lenses well with goodness, only that would help us to serve you with happiness in return. My day's experience would help tell what my kind-the specs and eyes, would like to be seeing. Please don't deprive us of our rights. We would pay back most appropriately with soulful peace of body and soul.

As I finished telling you my case on the writing pad, he signed his name on it and closed his pen. He then folded and placed me facing him on the pad; "I love you", I said and smiled a good bye to him until he woke me up for the next day. It was a marriage I never wanted to break with him.

Cheers,
nagappstheblogger!!!

    

 

 

I too have a daughter...

"Keep these files upfront on my table, they need some follow-up", I informed to one;

"And these can be sent across to our branch office", directed another;

"Can't this simple thing be looked after by you, don't be expecting your pay if I end up doing your work", I finally lost my temper.

No it wasn't my employees who were at fault. It was my anxiety over an expected call which gave in to my anger. Poor fellows had to take in my shouts along with the pay I had on offer for them.

"yes...Tell..me..uncle", the call I was expecting had arrived.
"Did every..th..ing go on wel..ll?" I bit every word too eager to know something;
"You have a girl", my uncle replied living and cherishing each and every syllable he meant to convey.

I closed my eyes and allowed a tear drop that filled my eye descend down my cheek.

"Thank you Uncle!", I cried the words out.
"Is Meena fine?!", I enquired about my wife.
"She is so full with joy!", my father-in-law beamed.
"I can't wait to get there. Take care of her. I shall start right away", I said as words didn't have my control and ended the phone line.

As I placed the phone on its seat, I went completely lost; didn't know the world around me;

I shut my office; Kept foot after foot reiterating what had just happened. The feeling hadn't sunk in yet. I have become a dad. Yes, I have a daughter.

It is a practice in our part of the world where wives head to their mother's place to seek the necessary care and attention when they are to deliver a child. That had kept me away from Meena for 5 months now. I missed her so much that moment;  more than ever before.

I had to get to her immediately somehow. Fly, drive or atleast run to reach her that very moment.

It was evening already and I had to look for tickets to Kumbakonam where my queen and princess were.

I managed to find a place for myself bribing the TTR with a hefty sum. For once, bribing wasn't such a bad thing to be doing. I got to my seat and laid down thinking. Thinking was all I did and could do that night.

How should I bring her up? What will be her name? How will she look? the seamless such questions kept coming through the journey.

"I should give her the best possible in life", I told myself.
"She should have the best education", I added.
"She would one day be proud to call me her father", I puffed out my chest and said; the parent in me had found birth.

In the middle of all these thoughts, the sun came out the next morning...

I headed to the hospital well-received by my in-laws at the station; that's the best part of the Asian culture, you have family around in every important moment of your life. To cry, fight or laugh you can always have a company around.

"Dhanlakshmi Hospital", I read as I entered the hospital and approached our room with increasing anticipation on every step that I took.

More than I wanted to see the baby, I wanted to see the fulfillment on Meena's face.
I envisaged how she would react on seeing me!

The first step into the room brought me eye to eye with Meena.

I hadn't seen so much joy in someone so far. She didn't intend to give me a smile at all, I just knew it from her deep eyes, unruly hair, motionless lips and the hidden teeth beneath them that she meant so much more than what a smile could possibly convey.

She moved her hands across her forehead to gather her falling hair and rolled it behind. She was in the hospital clothing, yet was picture perfect beautiful that moment. The best that I have seen her since marriage.

I didn't take my eyes off her even for a second until she cupped our baby girl from her bed and held her up against me. Before I could get introduced to my daughter, for some reason I kissed Meena on her forehead.

Amid the giggle of my in-laws about the kiss, Meena couldn't hide a sheepish smile. And so, I couldn't hide one either.

I took our daughter into my arms and couldn't react for a second or two. You never know what to do when happiness engulfs you, do you?

I made a silent prayer to God then and derived the courage to bring up my daughter by being an ideal dad.

I whispered to her ears, " I am not sure what fate has written under your name, but I promise I will see to that I will correct all the not-so-happy lines in it".

She was asleep then, but I knew she would have heard me loud and clear. I put her back on her cradle.

All close relatives had gathered by then and made warm comments about the looks of the baby. The grandparents began, "She is so beautiful, she is gonna get a great looking groom".
Others replied, "Yes, she is gonna make the guy run after her".

"The Indian family can be unduly exaggerative, fortunately or unfortunately", I murmured more to myself.

"Every 'baby' looks cute", shrugged off my 12 year old niece in a matter-of-fact tone. It all added to the beauty of the occasion.

By the evening the dad-feeling had sunk in. I had become more responsible. I atleast seemed so.

"I shall go and get milk and the other things needed for the mother", I pitched in to help my in-laws.
"I'll join in", my brother-in-law Muthu offered to help.
So both of us started out;

Milk was first on the list and it was supposed to be Meena's diet for the day and thus for my little girl too.
So I was very particular about the quality of the milk, with it being my first ever deed as a father.
 
"Lets buy from here", Muthu said it the 10th time showing as many tea-shops.
"Not clean; Not hot; No packeted milk", were my alternate replies for the 10 occasions.

"I regret to have wanted to accompany you", Muthu must have thought.
I wasn't ready for an acceptance even if it seemed to be the best available.

That defines not only me as a father by each and every parent.

Leaving me-being-a-dad-and-having-a-daughter story here, we as kids have similar duties towards our parents. To do anything and everything to protect their happiness and peace has to be the foremost of responsibilities in our lives.

About such a great relationship that transcends generations, I can never say enough about. So I end here with me wanting for the day when I get to be a dad to come very soon.

Parenthood is the proudest and heartiest feeling of life. I wish every one of us is blessed to have a kid and be called Appa or Amma. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can match that feeling.

From,
nagapps-the-appa!!!