The Truman Show

"We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented."

Damn. 

A Streetcar Named Desire

(I'm home for three months. My only goals are to get fit and educate myself in books and films that I've been meaning to read and watch. Call it pretentious or whatever, I'm going to try to post here about my thoughts on the ones that leave an impact on me.)

Today's movie was A Streetcar Named Desire. I knew absolutely nothing about it before I watched it. Netflix recommended it, I downloaded it. It's black and white, and Wikipedia tells me that it's what made Marlon Brando famous.

It started off corny, with a woman getting onto an actual srtreetcar (a tram) that was named "Desire", to reach the house her sister, Stella, shared with her husband, Stanley, in the poorer part of town. Blanche duBois annoyed me. She was an obvious misfit in the Quarter, and seemed far flightier than necessary. She looked down upon the house Stella and Stanley lived in, and called Stanley common. Just pissed me off. Especially because it was obvious Stanley and Stella were in love, who cares about their run down house if they're happy together? Stella definitely didn't care. She understood Stanley under his brutish behavior and genuinely loved him. Stanley seemed like a stand up guy. Quick to anger, and uncouth, but a decent guy all around. He was madly in love with Stella, and was doing well in the factory he worked in. His friends from the factory all got together for beer and poker, and bowling from time to time. They were all loud, had love-hate relationships with there wives, and reveled in violence. Torn shirts and bruised faces were the norm. But, things were running along just fine.

As the movie progressed, complexities were revealed. Blanche obviously had problems with her mental health, triggered by a horrifying incident. Stanley beat his wife, and raped her sister. Stella always went back to him. By the time the movie ended, I was confused about my feelings for all of them.

I don't know what I learned from the movie. There seemed to be no message, apart from the fact that all the themes they covered are still very much relevant.

#1 Mental Health is considered a sissy issue. If you have anxiety, or PTSD, or any other condition, you're just to be written off. People try to help you by shouting the truth at you, and calling you a liar for imagining things. Very, very disturbing.

#2 "No, I won't marry you. You're not clean enough to take home to my mother." I don't think this needs elaboration.

#3 Rape is a way of establishing dominance; it need not be sexual.

#4 Patterns in behavior have to be broken. In the original play, Stella is comforted by Stanley and the men continue their poker game. In the movie, Stella takes her baby and vows to never return to Stanley. What is the last straw? How do you recognize it? Can people ever change their essential nature?


We live in a fucked up world. That is all.

Shaadi Mubaarak!

One of my best friends got married a few days ago. I'm happy for her, I really am. But, it's a bittersweet sort of happiness.  

Our friendship was always...there. I don't know how to explain it exactly. It's like whenever I came back home, I knew I would meet her. We would never get overly excited to meet each other because it always seemed like we were picking up from the last time we spoke/met. You know, how with some people you have a certain comfort regardless of how long it's been since you met them last? That's what we're like. 

Or were like, should I say. Not that we won't meet or talk anymore. But, it's going to be different. She is part of a tag team, now. Everything will be a joint decision. And they've been dating for a while, so it's not like they weren't important for each other before. But, there's something about marriage that enhances that relation. Everything else just fades into the background. 

You know, I've been trying to think why things change, or why marriage is just not the same as being in a long term relationship. Is it that it works as an announcement to the world? But, relationships work like that, as well. Is it that families are involved? No, that's true for a lot of relationships, too. Co-habitation? Not necessarily true for all marriages, and it could  happen even before.

I don't have any solid answers. What I do know is that it feels like the end of an era. 

I Made It! (Or So I'm Told.)

B School results are out. Looks like I'm heading to Ahmedabad for two years. Bye bye beer, butter chicken, and lazing around. Sigh.

Yeah, yeah, I know I shouldn't be sounding so weary already. It's an exciting opportunity and I'll get to meet like-minded professionals and network and all that business-y crap. I'm absolutely thrilled I got in. Really. But, I can't help but dread it, a little. Can't put my finger on the reason.

Maybe it's because this is hardly going to be like DU, where I studied only to save myself from flunking out. This is going to mean hitting the ground running and trying my best to be among the top half of the class at all times. If I want to "succeed", that is.

Which brings me to a more philosophical question. What is this success?

Does it mean earning a seven figure salary (or more)? Does it mean getting the best placement in your school? Does it mean launching your own start up and become one of those wildly controversial and successful (that word again) flip-flops-and-shorts wearing CEOs? Or does it mean having your own personal definition of success, the world's opinion be damned?

How long does the golden period last? How soon till I want to switch jobs? Will I be doing the same thing ten years, twenty years, thirty years later? If not, will I have "wasted" my management education?

Gah. Someone please stop this train.

Haven't Written Here In A While

I'm writing this only because I woke up in the middle of the night (thanks to an ill-timed text by a friend) and I haven't been able to sleep since. 

It seems I've forgotten why I wanted to keep a blog. I mean, I already have a journal. So, what is the purpose of this blog? Especially because I'm not exactly forthright with details here. Maybe I had a clear vision in my head when I started this. Maybe I just wanted to be one of the cool kids. Whatever it was, the reason is eluding me, now. 

For posterity's sake, I'll give you (who is this you, even?) a general update of my life since my last post. 

I finished my course at Xavier's. Worked in Delhi for a bit. Quit. (After two months, to be exact. If there was a Flakiest Employee Award, it would be mine.) Studied for the CAT. Hurt my leg in an accident and was restrained to the bed for two months. Took the CAT. Chilled for a month. Got my CAT result. (It wasn't terrible. That's all I'm saying.) Chilled for two months/gave B School interviews. Started working with an IPL Team. Finished interviews. Still working with said IPL Team. Waiting for B School results to come out. 

That's how my life is going to end. In anticipation. May not be the worst way to go, if you think about it. At least you're looking forward to whatever is coming. 

Kay, I don't know what else to write. Until next time!

Waitin' On The World To Change

Note: Had tried and failed to publish this on the 10th of November. Got lazy and forgot about it until now. So, yeah. This is a week old.  

What an anti-climactic start to my second semester. I'm waiting at the Chandigarh airport because my flight has been delayed. Indefinitely, it seems. 

The only rays of sunshine while everyone waits for an announcement are two little kids who are playing some game - that only the two of them seem to understand - and laughing their asses off. 

I looked away for a second, a while ago, and noticed everybody around me also looking at the kids with similar wry smiles on their faces. Perhaps envying their ability to laugh even when their parents were trying to reason out the delay. 

Life Lessons Learnt Today: 1 

It's time.

I can't believe my 40 day stay in North India is up already. 

Good decision to take that internship in Delhi. My stay was eventful, to say the least. 

That's all. 

Things (You Learn) To Do At An Internship

1. Use the hand dryer to dry off the absolute last droplet of water that remains on your hands after washing them. 

2. Ask for free office coffee confidently. 

3. Make Facebooking seem like SRS BSNS. 

4. Eavesdrop on conversations. 

5. Read the newspaper cover to cover. 

6. Take screenshots on your laptop. 

7. Learn about the Snipping Tool and realize it's much more convenient than taking screenshots. 

8. Make a presentation about anything and everything. 

9. Ask questions. 

10. Make pointless lists. 

Don't leave the brownies behind.

Yesterday, I attended the last class of my first semester at XIC. 

Today morning, I woke up late and almost missed my flight. In my hurry, I left behind The Yummiest Chocochip Brownies Ever. All twelve of them. 

Right now, I'm on a plane that's going to take me home to Chandigarh. 

Tomorrow, I will travel to Delhi and stay there for a month to intern at a digital advertising agency.

Then, home for Diwali. 

Life is good. 

 

Signed, Sealed, Delivered.

I sometimes get these panic attacks when I'm least expecting them. It's like that feeling you used to get on the last day of the summer holidays when you have six unfinished holiday projects due the next day.

So, I'll be walking out of college and will suddenly be struck by that special blend of guilt and anxiety, making me think I've forgotten to do something really important, when there's absolutely nothing that I'm supposed to. I can't explain it.

Maybe it's a sign?

Oh, won't you please take me home?

It's been about two months in this city and until two days ago, I still felt as if I was on vacation. You can't blame me. At every step, there was a mental comparison between my host city and my home city. One is bound to feel this shift is of a temporary nature. 

Two days ago, however, that changed. There was no trigger, as such, except the fact that I reached the sudden realization that I would miss winter entirely, this year. 

Now, this is a pretty big deal for me. I'm a complete winter baby, you see. I love that season. I love snuggling up in a razai at night. I love blowing on a scaldingly hot cup of tea to cool it down enough for me to not burn my tongue - and then burning it anyway. I love bundling up under layers and layers of warm clothes and putting on lots of holiday fat. (I'm not really lagging behind in the gaining weight bit, though. I'm doing a little too well for my liking, in fact.) 

If all of that doesn't prove my love for winter, maybe this will: I packed sweatshirts and jackets even for Mumbai.

(My leather jacket almost got ruined because of all the moisture here. I had to send it back.)

Anyway. So, I realized I would miss winter. That led me to think about a typical winter at home. Chandigarh. The family. I became terribly and irreversibly homesick.

Crybaby that I am, I teared up. 

Whatever. 

That's when Mumbai changed from being a city I'm currently in to a city I'm living in. 

I'm still trying to figure out what my opinion on this change is, though. 

Waiting for a Miracle.

Well, I'm in Mumbai. [Yes, this is me shamelessly ripping off a Raghu Dixit song. Whatever. It fits.]

It's been about two weeks and everything is still shiny and new. As someone said yesterday, it's raining elephants and giraffes, not cats and dogs. I'm not even tired of the incessant rain, right now. Let's hope it stays that way.

College is fun. Learning shitloads every single day and I wouldn't have it any other way. I was apprehensive of my ability to sit still in my chair for multiple two-hour sessions everyday, but I surprised myself. It probably has to do with the teaching style being interactive here. That coupled with the fact that this subject really interests me. So, y'know. 

I'm still discovering Bombay. Last Sunday, I spent three hours in the early morning just walking around and watching the city wake up around me. I think I'm going to do it again this Sunday. 

My Saturdays are working, so it limits the scope of the weekend. Still, I try and make the most of it. 

One phrase I'm really getting tired of, though, is "out of the box". Oh, Lord. You'd think advertising people would at least try to be a little more diverse in their choice of words. 

Time for a jog, now. 

Later. 

New beginnings.

I'm not as sad about college ending, now. Nostalgia is bound to hit, I'm sure. But, I'm looking towards the future. It's like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff moments before jumping off. The thrill of anticipation. Somehow, the unknown doesn't seem so scary. 

Maybe it's because I've finally made up my mind about what I want to do in life. Maybe because, for the first time, I am in a position to fully appreciate the kind of support my family has given me, despite not fully agreeing with my decisions. Maybe it's because I'm flying out to Bombay just for a day right in the middle of exams. 

Whatever the reason, it's a good feeling. The kind that should be recorded at this moment in time. 

This is the end.

College is almost over. This sounds cliched, but I don't know where three years just flew by. I can still clearly picture the night before my first day in college and how excited I was to finally start a new, more independent life.

Cut to the present, my farewell is in two weeks. It all seems a little surreal.

Meanwhile, I have no idea what I'm going to be doing after college. SP Jain results are going to be out any day now and I'm getting really anxious. This is going to be one of those moments I'll look back to and say, "That's where it all changed."

I feel like I'm being forced to walk a gangplank. To jump off into the unknown with absolutely no preparation. I'm not ready for this.

I miss texting and emailing.

Don't get me wrong. Whatsapp is cool and everything. And Messenger is really convenient for sending links and sharing videos. Innovations in technology are great.

I miss not knowing when the receiver gets my message. The anticipation of a reply. Not knowing when the actual typing is happening. I sometimes don't want people to know just how much time it's taking me to frame a particular message.

Maybe it's just me. Some people find it easy to just read a message - letting the other person know they have - and still not replying. I think it's impolite, though. As a result, I've got week-old emails in my inbox that I still haven't read because I haven't found the time to reply. Can you imagine how frustrating it must be to know that the other person has read your message, but still hasn't replied?

Sigh. Sometimes, technology does more bad than good.

All I Know.

I miss being able to just pick up the phone and call you to tell you something funny I witnessed. I miss your reactions. I miss hearing the slight crack in your voice and your perpetual cough. I miss the way you scrunched up your face in mock-anger when I did something stupid, but funny. I miss you calling me by the idiotic nicknames you had for me. I miss being able to steal your jokes and call them my own. I miss you getting pissed when you found out. I miss your Bohemia imitation. I miss you pushing me around like a rag doll. I miss getting irritated and screaming at you. I miss trying to make you laugh with my lameness. I miss seeing you crack a smile even through all the pain.

I miss you so bad.

I got this as a forward today:

"The bus driver ram singh went out with his 6 friends ( 2 rkp sabzee wale + all bihari ) the girl and the guy was called by the driver and were given proper tickets ( the bus was a school bus with black curtains .. Not permitted for transport use ) the girl was 23 a very good student and wanted to reach dwarka mor.
After they got in , the guys hit a rod on the guys's head and threw him out , then raped the girl one by one which was moving continuously in the porsh areas of delhi and ncr.
After raping her badly , one of them inserted a very long rod in her vagina which almost killed her and threw her out and ran away.

She was lying in the middle of the road hurt and nude.. Not even a single person helped her or covered her for an hour.
When police came in no one helped them pick her up. They were just not interested at all.

The girl's vagina + small and large intestine is totally damaged and she cannot live a married or normal life. Doctor said " main byaan nai kar sakta ki ussne kya kya jhela hai ... Bolte hue mujhe dard hota hai ". She has gone in coma 5 times from 16th dec. She is unconscious , critical and is not stopping to cry. The ribs are damaged as well.

That's the whole story
And that's what delhi people are.
And her only fault was that she took a wrong bus

You have sisters , mothers , daughters and soo many females at home.
Please don't sit and relax
Its not that small deal ... Its bout your families safety..

Dis msg myt sound way 2 provocative and open 2 broadcast over here bt still it gave me goosebumps ...our bc's and status may not make much of a difference bt still we need 2 be aware of wat exactly has happened wid dat girl , at d end of d day she is sum1's sister sum1's daughter ! Spread it and make ever1 aware of d real plight of dat girl....!!"


I understand the outrage and am personally horrified and enraged about the incident myself.

But, I have a lot of problems with the way people are speaking out about this.

What the hell are "sabzee wale + all bihari" and "that's what delhi people are" supposed to imply? Can we really club everybody belonging to a particular community into the same category just because of something certain twisted individuals did?

Another thing. Why is it that whenever a woman is raped in India, people condemn it with the logic that she is "someone's sister and someone's daughter"? Is it just the so-called familial "honour" that must be guarded with due diligence? Do her rights as an individual count for nothing at all?

The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

"I guess what I'm saying is this all feels very familiar. But, it's not mine to be familiar about."

I finished reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower today. It turned out to be so much more than I had thought it would be.

To be very honest, my interest was piqued only because Emma Watson plays Sam in the movie. So, I downloaded the e-book and started reading it yesterday.

I love the way it's been written. I love what it's about. I love how simply the most complex of thoughts have been conveyed.

I felt like I could relate to each and every one of them.

And therein, I feel, lies the secret behind a good book. It makes you feel like it could have been you.

Spring of Hope, Winter of Despair.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way."

- Charles Dickens, A Tale Of Two Cities



Exactly one year since I spoke to you last.

Fade To Grey

Just another day, only with more lights and a lot of sound. Our lane looks like everyone is getting married tonight, of all nights.

Diwali's no fun without you. Here's hoping that wherever you are, you're blowin' it up.

I miss you, bhai.