FOC basis

It was SRCC alumni on 2nd Sunday of Feb. Though it has never been a fun to attend the function in past years, but the attachment factor with those rust color bricks of my College building pulls me towards it always. Realising that the sun had already set, I called up few of my close mates to join me for the event. But noone was willing to go this time. I tried to convince them that it wld be a better affair this time. No luck.
“I have a better plan”, replies Harsh (one of my better friend during College days, the other one being Sidharth. I am mentioning his name just to even out between both of them. Though he would hardly care and count on his name being not written on my stupid blog). His plans have always sucked which could never go beyond having dinner at the nearest possible restaurant (to his house) and then straight to home. It used to be so short and restricted that you could not catch even a glimpse of any girl.
“Ok, go ahead”, as I never had so much guts to not even listen to his plan. Though at the end I had always been able to convince him that it’s the worst plan anyone could come out with. I was hoping the same this time too.
“We would be going to some holy prayer kind of thing with music and all at an auditorium in Janak Puri, then have dinner there and rush to my MBA Institute fest at Qutab institutional area”, comes back Harsh with once in a lifetime innovative plan.
Though I didn’t want to break my record by not going to alumni function, but this plan was somewhat appealing me. The only apprehension was ‘some-holy-prayer-kind-of-thing-with-music-and-all’. I had to convince myself too, to go to such kind of thing, which was already sounding like a middle-age thing to me. It would be difficult to tell even other bunch of friends that I attended something like that.
“some-holy-prayer-kind-of-thing-with-music-and-all, whats that exactly???”, I tried to check if he is not taking me to some old age home, wherein they would be showing us their childhood talents!!
“Even I don’t know exactly, but my cousin is insisting me to come along with him. He says its some ‘Art of Living’ concert and this very famous guy, Sahil Jagtiani, is coming all the way from London for this concert and that too for the first time in India. Since my cousin is a doctor, so I have trusted on him that it would be good”, affirms Harsh. Now this is the longest thing ever said by him in his defence. Not that the length of his reply convinced me, but the fact that it was an idea given by his cousin. Plus the fact that it would be followed by dinner and festival night, I gave up my attachment for my alma mater (mind you…that’s for one day only).

“Do you have enough passes or tickets for the concert (me, Harsh, his cousin and Sidharth)”, I enquired.
“Its Free of Cost (FOC). Everyone is invited, it’s the concert for God. And there are no restrictions for chanting God’s name.”. I was wondering if that’s really Harsh speaking or he has read lot many books on ‘Art of Living’ in a single day on inspiration from his cousin.
“We are going as you are insisting so much, but I don't think you'll get to listen to much of the concert if its free of cost. We would not even know if he is chanting God’s name or doing some rock and rap”, I cautioned.
“What nonsense, we must go to the live concert when we have got an invite”, counters Harsh. Now that’s like him, coming up with the most illogical reply, which you can never counter, and off we went for the evening at the concert.

We reached the venue at the right time, on the dot of 7 pm as required. The place was packed. I hadn't realised that dilliwalas liked concert so much, said Sidharth. They don't; they like freebies, I replied. For like almost all cultural events in the Capital, the evening was free of charge. And the Dilliwalas likes nothing better — no, not even Butter Chicken or Veg Manchurian — than something, anything, that's free of charge.

Eventually, we found seats on the extreme corner. We couldn't see the stage or the performer. But we could watch the proceedings on a TV monitor. At least I assumed it was the monitor, because two minutes after we sat down we couldn't see the TV screen, or anything much else except the substantial posteriors (all that Butter Chicken and Veg Manchurian) of Delhi's freebie culture groupies who had come and stood in front of us to gain a ringside view of the tamasha. Doesn't matter, said Amit Bhaiya (Harsh’s cousin) gamely. One doesn't have to see a Concert, one hears it; just shut your eyes and listen, he instructed. So I shut my eyes and listened.

Was it my imagination or had Sahil Jagtiani lost — or gained — something during recitation? Or did he really have a passage in which someone attempted to ascertain the current whereabouts of some Girish, Oye saale, where are you, yaar? What, you're finding place to do soo-soo?, How bewaqoof you are, so many trees all around, just do it behind one of them. What?, scorty guards are standing under trees to stop people doing soo-soo? Inko bhi doosra koi kaam nahi hai, oof oh, just go behind stage where they are making all that halla-gulla and do your soo-soo there only, no?

Then there was this dude, Rakesh yaar, this concert-suncert is very boring yaar. Saale I had come out just coz I dint have money to buy movie ticket…isse accha cable pe hi Guru dekh leta. But there are actually nice chiks which has come around this place. Are they really so dharmic?? Ya fir they have come in look out for some handsome eligible dude just like me. Oh hoo…ofcourse you as well. Tu offended kyu hota hai..tu aur main to same hi hain naa yaar.

And another soloist on the other side was enquiring of Bhabhiji what she was making for dinner, and how nice this concert was, the kiddies were having such fun, running around and screaming, it was better than going to joo itself, and best part was it was all for muft, yes, yes, I'm telling, absolutely free, you must come also next time... Somewhere along the line I think the Guitar of Sahil Jagtiani gave up and began to fake it, silently stringing the music as Airtel and Hutch took over from there.

Isnt concert nice?, asks Amit Bhaiya. I nod. We are in the cellphone-free car moving swiftly towards IMI festival, listening to Rang de basanti. (or is it jai mata di?? Atleast its not looless Girish, or another handsome dude Rakesh, or a bhabhiji cooking dinner). Inclinations of people towards freebies and their behaviour were not actually a cultural shock to me, being born and brought up in Delhi. The city gets supplied more culture per resident than it does such non-essential items like water and electricity. For people from outside, dilli’s public culture shauk is liable to induce terminal culture shock.

The Terminator

“Rishtey hi rishtey”, the boards of the marriage bureaus would read loudly. When I first realized the concept of marriage and understood that there is no escape from this institution as well… very much like my school classrooms…I wondered how would I be hooked to a girl. Little elder…and I understood the concept of marriage bureaus, and to my relief. I thought its quite simple to go and get a match for you. But once when I happened to visit a bureau, run by my friend’s father, I saw a little wooden board shouting at me, “Non-returnable.” Not that I went as a customer over there (was still in my school), but the permanency factor involved in this arrangement made me shudder.

Dating agencies have become most normal these days and it’s not much of botheration to find a partner. The most difficult part is to get rid off it. When I was reading that 73% of the marriages end up in sour relationship and 28% of them goes for divorce, I felt there is a strong need for a ‘Separation Agency” as well.

And now I have a ‘breaking’ news for you. Believe it or not…but there is this guy – Bernd Dressler – who runs up the agency which terminates relations!!!!!!!!!!! He is known as the man with the worst job in Germany. “Hello, my name is Bernd Dressler from the separation agency and I have been asked to inform you that she wishes to end your relationship” (an uneasy silence follows…..)

Read his opening line again, and he himself claims its usually ‘she’ among his clients. Most customers (more than 2/3rds) are women in early 20’s, as per Dressler. Well, now you even have stats as a backup to what I always mention….this entire species is not to be trusted. Okay try asking women what they care for more, nice shoes or men? There is no easy answer for them. Loll…its funny to benchmark us to footwear. But, trust me, women can ignore men for sexy shoes. I rest the case. Any takers???

Coming back to Mr. Dressler. Its just a 15 mins job for him (wat can sometimes take an entire lifetime for us to build up!!!). Most of the targets (isn’t this the apt word?) don’t blv at once, and he has to show the contract, which says he has been hired to terminate the relationship. Then there is list of reasons why. Dressler doesn’t accept all the requests. His client needs to have atleast 3 reasons to justify. And just ‘getting on my nerves’ is not a reason. Well… gals must be innovative enough to find out good 3 reasons.

To make it more fancy, he has got various packages. You can chose between “lets just be friends” package to the more severe “leave me alone” package and they can be delivered either through phone, letter or more personalized home service. After sales services…like getting your stuff from ur partner’s place are also provided. From seemingly solid marriages through to quick flings and illicit affairs, a phone call or a knock from Bernd Dressler is guaranteed to kill the romance stone dead.

No complaints to Mr. Dressler. He is just a messenger. People go to dating agencies to find a lover. By helping unhappy couples to split up, he is offering the same kind of service, but in reverse. But what if a guy wanted to call off his relationship with his pregnant girlfriend. We should not underestimate how profound these things can be.

And what about stale friendships and business agreements turned sour?? I am sure I must not have reached the existence of these kinda agencies, and they must be operating in leaps somewhere. With this, I wldnt have to say ‘katti ’myself to my friend (followed by lots of arguments) and could get away by paying few bucks to these people.

Many treat relationships in the same way as an empty Coke can - when it's finished they want to throw it away. But I guess, in love and business, some things just aren't meant to last forever.

Hazaaron khwaaishen aisi...

I have become a big fan of Mirza Ghalib ever since I bought this book "Mirza Ghalib - Selected Lyrics and Letters" by K.C Kanda.
But what stands like class of its own is this "Hazaron Khwahishen Aisi"
I feel this like mine own story told in simplest and shortest way. At times, I feel in same way that i m all alone and left with nothing but thousands of desires left to be fulfilled. Nothing seems to come the way i want them to and then i turn to these words and feel that even if i am not very good at things, i have a desire to go ...

Hazaaron Khwaaishen aisi ki har khwaaish pe dum nikle
Bahut nikle mere armaan lekin phir bhi kam nikle

Nikalna khuld se aadam ka sunte aaye hain lekin
Bahut be-aabru hokar tere kooche se hum nikle

Mohabbat mein nahin hai fark jeene aur marne ka
Ussi ko dekh kar jeete hain jis kaafir pe dum nikle

Khuda ke vaaste parda na kabra se utha zaalim
Kahin aisa na ho yahan bhi wahi kaafir sanam nikle

Haan mehkhane ka darwaza 'Ghalib' aur kahaan vaaiz
Par itna jaante hain kal wo jaata tha ke hum nikle

- Mirza Asadullah Khan 'Ghalib'

Albert Pinto ko gussa kyon aata hai?

I remember the craze we had in class 12th to get this ‘slam book’ filled up by the classmates, which was started initially by a set of girls who insisted us (me, mohit, ganja) to write in something in that little printed book. The next day, all 3 of us had our own slam book and we were also following up with others to scribble something in that. I extended it bit far when I made my brother and sister to spend their precious (ya…that’s wat they used to ‘think’ while studying medicine) time to write something in that which I was least bothered to see. But I wanted to get the pages filled up. More than me, there were friends who noticed that my sister had termed me as “short-tempered” in the column ‘describe me’. And this was a surprise to them as I rarely used to be ‘angry’ at anyone. However, I felt perhaps she was right, when it comes to her.

I suspect people come in opposites. Rich, poor. Good, bad. Ugly, beautiful. Happy, miserable. Funny, boring. Articulate, introvert. Those who get easily angered, those who do not. It’s the last pair I am concerned with. And the reason is, as my sister described me, I easily get ‘gussa’. The paradox is that I usually lose my cool over people I am actually expected to keep it. It’s more to do with the expectations level. For example, if someone is being silly, or deliberately provoking me, I can maintain my pose, much longer than others would expect. But if someone close does even a slight act of deviation, my smile starts to fade and then my good temper is a temporary phenomena. Of course, it gets over pretty quickly but it can be equally dramatic. Fortunately, like a hot vessel, I calm down fast. But like a spilled hot water, the damage lasts a lot longer, sometimes.

The fight usually happens at the silliest of things. I recall getting ‘gussa’ over one of my friends few days back. To brief, it went like this. Everytime my friend would promise to call back, the call wld never come. To start with, I was being patient. But the problem is that if you don’t make others realize, the behaviour continues (even though its not deliberate). As an icing on that, even when we were talking, the voice from the other side comes, “ Just hold on for a second”, and those seconds would actually tantamount to half an hour. With three of these ‘little seconds’ in quick succession, the paranoid element in me got the better of me and all patience was lost. No wonder, I decided not to initiate contacting myself and wait for my friend to react. The call did come the next day, but it took two days to patch up.

Of course, fights with others (less significant souls in my life) are not as long lasting and neither do they flare up that quickly. I, however, know that my initial response is usually wrong. But, I am wiser when its too late. Afterwards all I can do is make up by saying sorry first. Sometimes it works but not always. And more often I use it, I shall have to find synonyms for this word so as the sheen of the meaning is not lost.

Few days back, I happened to read this explanation by an American behaviour analyst: “The short-tempered, by which I mean those who are easily but often wrongly aroused to anger, are free of guile and transparent. They lay themselves open to ridicule but they are usually unfairly judged. It’s far better to lose control, as they do, but be honest about it, than maintain a false and deceptive calm only to mislead and deceive.”

I wonder if my family/friends would accept this justification. Or they would reply, “ye koi gussa hone ki baat hi nahi thi, itni chhoti se baat pe bhi koi gussa hota hai? And this logic above is utter crap!!” Perhaps it is. It sounds too good to be true. But, then, Thats Me!!

India is the Canvas today!!!

Just when it comes to Holi…it reminds me of the evergreen song …'rang barse bheege chunar waali' from the movie 'Silsila'. And always attracts me to have some ‘bhaang’ atleast in one holi. Unfortunately, even in this holi I cldnt fulfill my attractions!!
But I still remember two years back when I went to a ‘bade logon ki holi’ with sahil (chilli) and annie…there was this free flowing 'bhaang'…lots of colours…and food stall by the side. Needless to say where I was stationed!! And ofcourse chilli had to try that 'bhaang' after going through all the liquor brands available in ‘wine and beer’ shops. But the after effect was really funny when everyone was struck with one activity. I cld hear ppl speaking, “aaj bahut mazaa aaya-100”, “mujhe ghar nahi jaana-100”, and chilli was like, “main Australia se wapas nahi aaunga-100”, and I really pitty the plight of the guy who was struck brooming the entire floor!!!!

When I was in Kolkata, it was a struggle to answer queries on the way Holi is played in North India, particularly delhi. That elderly person found it quite shocking for some reason that men and women play holi together with so much passion. He was surprised that the colour was wildly applied on anyone and everyone. I wld say to myself, “ You’ll never understand”.

That’s another thing that lately even I am not too fond of the idea of chemicals giving me a rash on my face and making my hair brittle. But that’s me. Now. I don’t see a reason why kids shouldn’t be having a great time, it was a great fun as a child and during my teens. I remember my mom’s senses wld refuse to recognize me as her ‘beautiful’ child when I wld come back home smeared with golden, silver and black colours on all my visible body parts. We used to create ‘tolis’ and move around the streets full of ammunition like maniacs. The colour wld take days to leave my skin. There was a sense of achievement, the next day when you go school, if u had the most colored nails and fingers! Even though I dint play holi at all this year, I still purchased a ‘pichkari’ (not for me) with one of my friend, which was fun and reminded me of my younger days wen I wld force my dad to make me buy a new ‘pichkari’ every year!!

The surprising part is that some of my friends especially go to Vrindavan to play holi, though they know nobody there.
“Whom do you play with?”, I asked the first time.
“Bhagwanji ke saath”, they said, with beautiful simplicity.And probably that’s why I don’t see why one needs to explain it. Stay away. Or play!