Last week,taking the cue from one of my friends,I decided that I would undergo laser treatment to my eyes.It was easy,he said,just a half an hour at the doc's,and your eyesight would be back to normal and you could dump your spectacles for good.The talk about the specs took me for a walk down the memory lane,with my glasses by my side.
They had come, the light of my eyes, neatly wrapped in a shiny plastic case with the name of the shop neatly embossed on it, in golden italic letters, and a yellow satin cloth inside to wipe them clean.
They were initially taken off before sleep, carefully with both my hands , wiped clean with the cloth and tenderly placed back into the box. As time went by, I would whip them off and toss them on to my table. The cloth, replaced by the loose ends of my shirts, disappeared first, followed by the box, which ended up covered in dust, at some forgotten corner of my wardrobe. As a result, within weeks of purchase, they invariably end up with one leg pointing towards London and the other towards America.
They made the text on billboards and films on television clearer, and saved me from the wrath of many who would smile at me from far away, only to meet my blind, blank stare. They have emboldened me to look people in the eye, as I know it wouldn’t be very easy for them to see my eyes, through the glasses.
They contrived with my then awkward gait, to give me the geek look, but the competition from my miserable grades right through school and college was too much for them and ultimately the grades won, hands down.
They made me very appearance-conscious, and despite instructions from the doctor to wear them permanently and persuasion from my parents, I always made sure that they rested in my pockets till I crossed the row of shops on either side of the road, which preceded the rather deserted path which led to my school.
They ruined an otherwise good looking photograph of mine--which honestly speaking, is quite a rarity--by reflecting the studio lights with a vengeance. Despite the best efforts from me and the photographer, neither the good looks nor thankfully the glare, repeated itself again.
They once silently rested on my nose, as if mocking at me, while I ran desperately all around the school, searching playgrounds and bathrooms thinking that I lost them. I realized they were still with me, only when, temporarily forgetting that I had "lost" them, I involuntarily readjusted their position on the bridge of my nose.
They have evolved from brown to black, oval to square, from biggish to smallish, the evolutions being triggered by wear and tear or by the latest fashion trends. But the demise of the first pair was the most tragic.
“They were in the pocket of my shirt,
The shirt was hanging on the door,
The door was then slammed tightly shut,
They were smashed and crashed to the floor.”
Nice rhyme, but such a cute piece of poetry occurring to me while speaking of this incident seems quite an anticlimax, as the sight of them crushed to a hundred glass pieces, jammed between the door and the wall, had been too much to bear. I got a sound thrashing from dad that day and a brand new pair on the next.
They have reduced RayBan and PolicE brands to utter irrelevance as far as I am concerned, as sunglasses don’t come with provisions for the visually imperfect, and wearing sunglasses over your eyeglasses isn't exactly what you call sanity.
They haven't been a permanent fixture on my nose of late, and they come up from my pocket only in the event of something interesting (read beautiful) cropping up before me. While at college, me wearing them and looking in a particular direction was a sure-shot indicator of a pretty someone walking past, and scores of hopeful adolescent eyes would soon follow mine. The flip side of the whole thing was that even some of my innocent, unassuming glances were quite often grossly misunderstood.
They get deposited by me, at the oddest of places, on bathroom window sills, on living-room cushions, in trouser pockets and many such unlikely places. I go mad hunting for them, and keep everyone around me on tenterhooks as well. They do resurface at the end, leaving a sheepish smile on my face, but the resultant mess-the upturned cushions,malaligned furniture,rummaged wardrobes- takes at least another hour to get cleaned up.
With the surgery imminent,my glasses wouldn't be staying with me for long.Even with a perfect 10/10 vision,and free from all the fuss which accompanies them,and the fact that I can spot a RayBan without bothering about them,I realize I would miss them ,and miss badly - my unsung companions,their reassuring presence,the desperate spectacle hunts - and the more I think about them,the more second thoughts am I having about letting them go.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
'INVITATIO'Nailed !
They say marriages are made in heaven. But outsourcing being the order of the day, it seems marriages too have been outsourced from heaven nowadays. The quintessential marriage broker and marriage bureaus have taken a backseat as more and more get to find their better halves by themselves. Though largely unsuccessful so far, I have put in quite a number of efforts to this end myself.
The main bottleneck has been the shortlisting.Talkative girls don’t make the cut, so doesn't the fashionable and the over-socializing ones. No mirror cracking materials please, as she would get soon get bored going about cracking mirrors without my company. But long hair and intelligence are an absolute must-I still have my demands, you see. If at all some lady meets all the criteria she would have to still have to get acquainted with me and at least pick up a friendship with me. Sounds wishful thinking, but let me tell you, there has been more than one on my list so far. To be precise, six of them.
Now the twist in the tale. Of the six, two were already married, one was engaged, another one was already in love and the last two got engaged within a month of me meeting them. Call it pessimism or whatever you want, but I formulated my own theory about girls and me. Bring any girl who is struggling to find her match, due to reasons ranging from domestic to monetary to horoscopic, get me to like her and within a month, her cup of matrimonial woes would be empty and mine would be that much fuller.
Then I happened to switch my job. Quite often a change does you a world of good. Sometimes a change is what makes Lady Luck to cast her benevolence on us.Atleast that was what I hoped when I joined the new job. My hope wasn't out of place at all, when within a week I spotted what was to be the next entry on my growing list. She had joined recently and sat diagonally opposite to me. There was everything, the charming smile, long hair, simple dressing and calm demeanor and the fact that I didn’t even know anything about her couldn't put me off at all. Before long, glances and smiles were exchanged, and my brain worked overtime to correlate the smiles and glances to something like a mutual liking. Except for the smiles and glances, we never talked to each other. From my past relationships one thing which I had learnt was instead of being pushy,it was always better to be patiently bide my time and wait for the break.
So far, so good. By the way, I am not in a position to reveal the name of the girl, so let me call her Miss. DreamGirl.I needed to find out more about Miss. Dream Girl, starting with her name. The problem here was that since both of us were new at the office, there weren’t many whom I could ask for such sensitive data and there wouldn't be many who actually would know the details. That was when one day, luckily, I met this particular guy at our pantry. I will call him Mr.GodSend.Mr.GodSend was a talkative fellow, and since then, we used to talk occasionally over coffee. The talk was pretty much the boring crap - about the latest bank interests, housing loans, worsening condition of the roads of Cochin, train timings - the topics which come to your rescue when your interests doesn't match with someone and you still have to pick up a conversation. Though he was quite good at gossip-mongering, I was apprehensive about asking Mr. Godsend about Miss.DreamGirl as his chat never veered to "girl-topics”, as we call them. But his furtive glances and knowing smiles at me whenever a pretty, well-endowed female walked past us made me feel confident that he could be my man. I went ahead and managed to get her name from him, and also came to know that even her native place was the same as mine.
The signs were pretty bright and I sat down and formulated my plans. I methodically rehearsed our first conversations and the questions that I would ask her and so on. Meanwhile the glances continued, the smiles grew wider and the occasional one line conversations started to flourish too. Things were slowly picking up pace when after some days our Mr. Godsend came up to invite me for his marriage. He handed me his wedding invitation.DreamGirl was invited too,and was attending,so I made up my mind that I would attend too, and I joked to him about how me and Miss.DreamGirl would come to his seat to invite him to our marriage. He departed, and I folded the invitation and put it into my table to find yet another invitation there.Out of sheer curiosity I opened it.
I would have admired the card, with its silver background and embossed golden letters, if it was not for the content. I read the card again, hoping that I had read it wrong. But I hadn’t. The bride happened to be our Miss.DreamGirl and the saddest part was the date of wedding-it had happened a good two months before. I couldn’t help cursing her for not sporting at least an obvious Sindhoor mark on her forehead.
Months have passed,Miss.DreamGirl was promptly rechristened Mrs.DreamGirl,she is expecting a baby in a few months, Mr.Godsend is happily married and I am still drawing up lists and cutting the entries off with a speed that only my fast-running-out optimism can match.
The main bottleneck has been the shortlisting.Talkative girls don’t make the cut, so doesn't the fashionable and the over-socializing ones. No mirror cracking materials please, as she would get soon get bored going about cracking mirrors without my company. But long hair and intelligence are an absolute must-I still have my demands, you see. If at all some lady meets all the criteria she would have to still have to get acquainted with me and at least pick up a friendship with me. Sounds wishful thinking, but let me tell you, there has been more than one on my list so far. To be precise, six of them.
Now the twist in the tale. Of the six, two were already married, one was engaged, another one was already in love and the last two got engaged within a month of me meeting them. Call it pessimism or whatever you want, but I formulated my own theory about girls and me. Bring any girl who is struggling to find her match, due to reasons ranging from domestic to monetary to horoscopic, get me to like her and within a month, her cup of matrimonial woes would be empty and mine would be that much fuller.
Then I happened to switch my job. Quite often a change does you a world of good. Sometimes a change is what makes Lady Luck to cast her benevolence on us.Atleast that was what I hoped when I joined the new job. My hope wasn't out of place at all, when within a week I spotted what was to be the next entry on my growing list. She had joined recently and sat diagonally opposite to me. There was everything, the charming smile, long hair, simple dressing and calm demeanor and the fact that I didn’t even know anything about her couldn't put me off at all. Before long, glances and smiles were exchanged, and my brain worked overtime to correlate the smiles and glances to something like a mutual liking. Except for the smiles and glances, we never talked to each other. From my past relationships one thing which I had learnt was instead of being pushy,it was always better to be patiently bide my time and wait for the break.
So far, so good. By the way, I am not in a position to reveal the name of the girl, so let me call her Miss. DreamGirl.I needed to find out more about Miss. Dream Girl, starting with her name. The problem here was that since both of us were new at the office, there weren’t many whom I could ask for such sensitive data and there wouldn't be many who actually would know the details. That was when one day, luckily, I met this particular guy at our pantry. I will call him Mr.GodSend.Mr.GodSend was a talkative fellow, and since then, we used to talk occasionally over coffee. The talk was pretty much the boring crap - about the latest bank interests, housing loans, worsening condition of the roads of Cochin, train timings - the topics which come to your rescue when your interests doesn't match with someone and you still have to pick up a conversation. Though he was quite good at gossip-mongering, I was apprehensive about asking Mr. Godsend about Miss.DreamGirl as his chat never veered to "girl-topics”, as we call them. But his furtive glances and knowing smiles at me whenever a pretty, well-endowed female walked past us made me feel confident that he could be my man. I went ahead and managed to get her name from him, and also came to know that even her native place was the same as mine.
The signs were pretty bright and I sat down and formulated my plans. I methodically rehearsed our first conversations and the questions that I would ask her and so on. Meanwhile the glances continued, the smiles grew wider and the occasional one line conversations started to flourish too. Things were slowly picking up pace when after some days our Mr. Godsend came up to invite me for his marriage. He handed me his wedding invitation.DreamGirl was invited too,and was attending,so I made up my mind that I would attend too, and I joked to him about how me and Miss.DreamGirl would come to his seat to invite him to our marriage. He departed, and I folded the invitation and put it into my table to find yet another invitation there.Out of sheer curiosity I opened it.
I would have admired the card, with its silver background and embossed golden letters, if it was not for the content. I read the card again, hoping that I had read it wrong. But I hadn’t. The bride happened to be our Miss.DreamGirl and the saddest part was the date of wedding-it had happened a good two months before. I couldn’t help cursing her for not sporting at least an obvious Sindhoor mark on her forehead.
Months have passed,Miss.DreamGirl was promptly rechristened Mrs.DreamGirl,she is expecting a baby in a few months, Mr.Godsend is happily married and I am still drawing up lists and cutting the entries off with a speed that only my fast-running-out optimism can match.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
A Tale Of Two Poems
Some years back,I took a sudden fancy to poetry.I jotted down some,and honestly speaking you couldnt spot even a trace of a rhyme or poetic beauty in most of them.They where just plain prose,with line breaks coming in at absolutely unnecessary places.The titles too,werent any great,and it wasn't long before I gave up on my latest fad.
Recently happened to come across two of them after a long time.These two seemed to be better,and though I could not find a better title for the second one,I thought I'll share them with you.
The first one seemed to have been inspired from the initial days of my then hectic software career.
TECHIE'S TRAVAILS
Monday comes along
Sunday slips away into the past
Friday waves from far away
And I am in bed,half conscious.
The alarm goes off. Damn it!
Damn me rather for setting it to go off at such unearthly hours.
I hope against hope that something has gone wrong .
Alarm might have been set to 4 AM by mistake,instead of 6.
But the sunlight peeping in allays my doubts .
Well,it's monday morning.
I sit up,groggy-eyed and drowsy.
Mom calls from downstairs
I wonder where she gets all this energy from .
Well,I must be off now,I realise.
Sheer will takes me to the shower.
I dress up,
The feeling of the darned tie wrenching my poor neck says it all.
The sight of equally unlucky souls at the office cheers me up.
Just 5 days like this,I tell myself.
To be back in the lap of that glorious feeling of nothing-to-do.
The same feeling,which made me sick,in those horrible jobless days.
This is much better,I console myself .
The thought of salary is vaguely comforting .
And as I get philosophical,the realisation dawns.
And I realise how lucky I am,to be here in this seat at Office.
A little chill down my spine
As the thought of the umpteen unsuccessful tests and interviews races back to mind.
I say a little prayer,and stare at my PC ,
Trying to figure out a pattern in that junk before me.
A curse for the (wretched) soul who created such meaningless(?) piece of material.
I say the prayer again,the junk gets more imposing .
Tea-vending machine is more humane,I feel .
At least it works when you want it to .
A cup of tea,and I am back to my seat,
With the software junk for company.
Two hours of mental wrestling,
Half my hair is strewn across the table.
At last it gives way(the junk,not my Hair) and I smile to myself.
You need to be brainy to crack it,and I feel good.
Wonder how I got the gumption to call it Junk.
Come On ! The day is not so bad ,after all.
Lot more junks,more e-mails and chat .
The days whizz past,great news!
But the deadlines too whizz past along with them ,bad news !
Desperate attempts to catch up,to no avail .
I start believing in miracles more and more.
Soon,Friday comes up,and another weekend .
Its party time.
Celebration of life,nothing less.
Absolute bliss,till the ill-fated alarm goes off once again
Such is life ,
Little disappointments,struggles and some joy at the end of it all.
A saying comes to my mind .
When you are about to fall from the edge of a Cliff,
God either rescues you,
Or He teaches you to fly.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The second one was inspired from a movie I saw,where the protagonist was a poor guy in love with a blind pretty girl.The guy just sells out the his guitar( his most loved possession, sob! sob! ) to raise money for his love's eye surgery.The surgery is a success and the guy is scared whether she would like him when she sets her eyes on him.The poor guy feels she would not like him,and out comes the poem.
THE SYMPHONY OF LOVE
The earth was bathed in moonlight ;
The sky,a hazy blue .
The leaves were sprinkled with silver ,
And the moon smiled from behind the clouds.
The cool wind blew ,
With breaths laden with dew.
And she lay on my chest ,
Lips parting into a smile,and eyes locked with mine.
She never saw me ,
She never saw anyone ,
But all saw her,a true marvel.
I sang to her,odes to her and her everlasting charm .
She lay,savouring my words.
As the wind soothened our tired nerves.
I was numb then,frozen with anxiety,
Even in the midst of the song and the moonlight.
Before the sun would bend down to kiss the oceans again,
She would open up to the world,
My asinine countenance and haggard frame would have to be the last thing to welcome her. The realisation shook me.
As the night melted away ,and sleep soothened our tired souls.
The day barged in.
And bought with it a hundred fears.
All about to materialise as shadows do from a lamp.
Her eyes were closed as she lay,
Wrapped in a serene charm .
And as I watched she opened her eyes ,
To the world ,which she had never seen.
I hoped the earth would swallow me,
The gale would blow me off,
But they were kind,and there I stood,
Facing the moment,the dreaded one.
Eyes closed,tears overflowing,I stood.
As her soft hands lay on my shoulders,
As dainty fingers wiped away the tears.
I opened my eyes,and stared blankly.
My misplaced fears vanished,
She had seen me with her mind,
Which had been a secret jewel-box,
Which I could never unlock,with both my eyes , and my ever so shallow mind.
Love overtook us,
As we stayed close, hearts beating in rhythm,
Whispering to each other,
Sweet nothings,from ear to ear.
The greatest music was born then,
Melting with the wind,lilting through the souls,
The loveliest symphony,
That the Universe ever listened to.
The symphony of Love.
Recently happened to come across two of them after a long time.These two seemed to be better,and though I could not find a better title for the second one,I thought I'll share them with you.
The first one seemed to have been inspired from the initial days of my then hectic software career.
TECHIE'S TRAVAILS
Monday comes along
Sunday slips away into the past
Friday waves from far away
And I am in bed,half conscious.
The alarm goes off. Damn it!
Damn me rather for setting it to go off at such unearthly hours.
I hope against hope that something has gone wrong .
Alarm might have been set to 4 AM by mistake,instead of 6.
But the sunlight peeping in allays my doubts .
Well,it's monday morning.
I sit up,groggy-eyed and drowsy.
Mom calls from downstairs
I wonder where she gets all this energy from .
Well,I must be off now,I realise.
Sheer will takes me to the shower.
I dress up,
The feeling of the darned tie wrenching my poor neck says it all.
The sight of equally unlucky souls at the office cheers me up.
Just 5 days like this,I tell myself.
To be back in the lap of that glorious feeling of nothing-to-do.
The same feeling,which made me sick,in those horrible jobless days.
This is much better,I console myself .
The thought of salary is vaguely comforting .
And as I get philosophical,the realisation dawns.
And I realise how lucky I am,to be here in this seat at Office.
A little chill down my spine
As the thought of the umpteen unsuccessful tests and interviews races back to mind.
I say a little prayer,and stare at my PC ,
Trying to figure out a pattern in that junk before me.
A curse for the (wretched) soul who created such meaningless(?) piece of material.
I say the prayer again,the junk gets more imposing .
Tea-vending machine is more humane,I feel .
At least it works when you want it to .
A cup of tea,and I am back to my seat,
With the software junk for company.
Two hours of mental wrestling,
Half my hair is strewn across the table.
At last it gives way(the junk,not my Hair) and I smile to myself.
You need to be brainy to crack it,and I feel good.
Wonder how I got the gumption to call it Junk.
Come On ! The day is not so bad ,after all.
Lot more junks,more e-mails and chat .
The days whizz past,great news!
But the deadlines too whizz past along with them ,bad news !
Desperate attempts to catch up,to no avail .
I start believing in miracles more and more.
Soon,Friday comes up,and another weekend .
Its party time.
Celebration of life,nothing less.
Absolute bliss,till the ill-fated alarm goes off once again
Such is life ,
Little disappointments,struggles and some joy at the end of it all.
A saying comes to my mind .
When you are about to fall from the edge of a Cliff,
God either rescues you,
Or He teaches you to fly.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The second one was inspired from a movie I saw,where the protagonist was a poor guy in love with a blind pretty girl.The guy just sells out the his guitar( his most loved possession, sob! sob! ) to raise money for his love's eye surgery.The surgery is a success and the guy is scared whether she would like him when she sets her eyes on him.The poor guy feels she would not like him,and out comes the poem.
THE SYMPHONY OF LOVE
The earth was bathed in moonlight ;
The sky,a hazy blue .
The leaves were sprinkled with silver ,
And the moon smiled from behind the clouds.
The cool wind blew ,
With breaths laden with dew.
And she lay on my chest ,
Lips parting into a smile,and eyes locked with mine.
She never saw me ,
She never saw anyone ,
But all saw her,a true marvel.
I sang to her,odes to her and her everlasting charm .
She lay,savouring my words.
As the wind soothened our tired nerves.
I was numb then,frozen with anxiety,
Even in the midst of the song and the moonlight.
Before the sun would bend down to kiss the oceans again,
She would open up to the world,
My asinine countenance and haggard frame would have to be the last thing to welcome her. The realisation shook me.
As the night melted away ,and sleep soothened our tired souls.
The day barged in.
And bought with it a hundred fears.
All about to materialise as shadows do from a lamp.
Her eyes were closed as she lay,
Wrapped in a serene charm .
And as I watched she opened her eyes ,
To the world ,which she had never seen.
I hoped the earth would swallow me,
The gale would blow me off,
But they were kind,and there I stood,
Facing the moment,the dreaded one.
Eyes closed,tears overflowing,I stood.
As her soft hands lay on my shoulders,
As dainty fingers wiped away the tears.
I opened my eyes,and stared blankly.
My misplaced fears vanished,
She had seen me with her mind,
Which had been a secret jewel-box,
Which I could never unlock,with both my eyes , and my ever so shallow mind.
Love overtook us,
As we stayed close, hearts beating in rhythm,
Whispering to each other,
Sweet nothings,from ear to ear.
The greatest music was born then,
Melting with the wind,lilting through the souls,
The loveliest symphony,
That the Universe ever listened to.
The symphony of Love.
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