A friend like an old shoe; sometimes shoes get worn out

It still gives me a kick – a hefty darbaan pushing the door open for me with a salaam, the huge golden foray, huge bouquets over centre-tables bigger than most loos in Bangalore apartments, the sprawling sofas. Big everything. I can easily see why some guys can get hooked on to living off the suitcases in these places. Room service, continental buffets, Anything else I can do for you, sir? But, I guess, what’s really thrilling is the fact that you don’t have to shell out anything from your own pocket for living this life. A golden cage.
The pansy-looking guy eyes my T-shirt and stubble but still decides to like me. He gives me the kind of smile that goes around with everything – really big.
“Yea, Sudda... No, (what the hell is his name) – Sudipto Mukherji. Room no. 12 something.”
“Room No. 1217, sir.”
“Cool.” Like it means something to me.
He calls and listens.
“Why don’t you wait in the lobby, sir? Mr. Mukherji will be down in a moment.”
“Sure”
I look back and decide that the maroon sofas would be the lobby.
I wait.

Most people think Sudda and I go back to school. Coz we studied in the same school since class I. And weirdly enough, we went to the same engineering college and then did our MBA together too. But to be honest, we hardly registered each other for a decade. Coz sometimes I guess things have their own time. People, money, girls. You never know when what happens t you. I believe that, truly do. That’s why I keep shuffling and walking around – the more I meet, the more I see sort of improves the probability of my hitting something, right?
Anyway, I don’t remember how but somewhere in the second year we landed up in Delhi together on a train with 30 bucks between us. I think it was some college fest or something – yea, it was. We were sort of roaming around CP at midnite trying to get an auto for the dough we had and then the cops took that too. So, we just started walking. Along the way, some autowallahs half-heartedly tried to mug us but we didn’t have any money left. We just bummed a cigarette off them and walked till almost dawn to reach the fest. Sudda was in some choreography affair but he was so pooped out that he missed the audition and the team got kicked out – they were going to get kicked out anyway, he told them. I was sort of just goofing around – part of the free-riders. In the evening, I caught up with Sudda at the canteen. We both had been sleeping the entire day and just sat there checking out girls. On a whim, we paired up for some literary events happening somewhere and next thing you know we are winning everything. I mean, I still remember this dumb charades event – there were guys from Mumbai, Bangalore and Cal who were so fast that watching them do the chopping and signalling was like watching someone having a seizure; or getting electrocuted. And both Sudda (at least, then) and I are not exactly very hurried in our affairs. But we won coz we just read each other’s minds like there was a big prompter sticking out of our heads; with font size 100. Like I got this movie and I just signalled the first letter was an A and Sudda was Amadeus. He just declared it; didn’t even go like ’Amadeus?’ And there were these guys from some law college who got the fits watching us. They ranted for hours on how we had some secret cheat codes that had to be “ferret”ed out (the guys actually used this word) till Sudda had to roughly shove them off – That scared the shit out of them coz Sudda was huge even back then.
And what a gas. Our entire team, an entire truckload of contingent, didn’t win anything in the festival other than what Sudda and I won that evening.
Once back home, we started hanging around. Our gangs merged – some people dropped; ultimately, most of them. But Sudda, Faizal and I stuck.
It’s funny. But I never gave it a thought. Why I landed up with Sudda. And why it took me so long. Just that when things with Nidhi started breaking apart, I thought of him one day. I was thinking of those nights we used to climb a big water tank away from the campus and talk about anything under the stars till dawn. I wanted to speak with him – just wanted to tell him that I am thinking about those nights.
And I had no number to reach him.
And sometimes you just want to call up someone you haven’t called for years and just have a ‘Hey, remember that?’ and they go – ‘Yea’ and you sort of just relive that moment. Coz you know this other person also remembers it and you’re both remembering it right now.
I was in that mood then.
That day, I sort of went over the roads we had covered together. Not like relived every moment, but more like traced it in the map. And, to be honest, it was more like broken roads; all potholes. A little tar ther, a little there – but that’ it.
Sometimes when I am in a horny mood, I think about the girls I have been with and it’s the same. There are some girls I can’t even remember what their eyes looked like. Even the make out sessions – I hardly remember anything.
Then there are the friends I know I had a great terrific friendship with; once. But I can’t recall a single moment or anecdote with.
I don’t know what all this means- this wiping out of the slate again and again but it sort of makes you think what was it all worth.

But I know why Sudda and I never got together in school. We were parts of different gangs. And don’t ask me how that happened. The guy you are seated next to knows another guy, you know a guy who was in your team in a game, then you’re sent out of class with another guy who knows the guy you sat with last year. That’s why I never look back – it can either look all predestined; or random. Depends on how gullible or cynical you are.
But anyway, Sudda was with these guys who were totally into athletics and I was more like a cricket, soccer and resteasy guy. Sudda told me that I hit him once in class V or something with a blue plastic bottle. I don’t remember that. But if he remembers the color of the bottle, I guess he has it right. Yea, that was a down phase for me. I got a little too violent because of this guy in my gang, Saif. He was a senior and totally cool. I guess everybody in those years has a gay phase where they have a crush on a senior. And I got a little rough coz I wanted to impress him. But Saif got rusticated and it was a sort of waking call for me. Anyway, after the initial years, fights got too rough for me – knives and kattas and stuff. I once was walking along the back alleys of Hazratganj and I saw this fight, or rather a guy getting bashed up. All hockey sticks and steel pipes. And it made me goddamm sick – especially the sounds. I sort of became a pacifist after that day.
I don’t know what Sudda’s trip was in those days: I never asked him too. What does it matter anyway; everything changes after college.

Sudda finally walks out. Or rather his paunch walks out and he follows. He’s wearing a suit that looks expensive; but I really am not the best judge. In school I could never understand the concept of uniforms; at work, I never understood suits. Especially in a hot place like India. How the fuck does a thing you wear define how good you are. I think it all started with imitating your white imperial masters and by the time you arrive big enough to change things, you ‘re so full of gas yourself that you sort of start wanting the suits around. And gawwd I hate those shirts with different colored collars and cuffs – usually something like turquoise blue or parrot green. Like a guy who can’t make up his mind on whether it’s a boardroom meeting he’s going to or a disco. If you have to wear shackles - wear them with dignity - grey and dull - making them fluoroscent ain't going to change a thing!
Suits: In an age when you have Tshirts, cargoes and jeans. Sheesh!

Sudda has this sheepish grin when he sees my Tshirt and corduroys. I also grin.
Three years, I say.
Three fucking years, he says.
We hug.
He’s busy all the time; checking his Blackberry after every couple of seconds; walking off to a corner to take some shushedup calls; and coming back with – Yaar, bahut maar ke rakhee hai.
Whenever he takes a call, I play a shooting game on my mobile.
We catch up.
How’s Maddy? Is it true about Vids and Gopalan? Pondy kahaan hai, bhai!?! Tere ko yaad hai...?!? Guess whom I ran into in NY? Rads ki bhi shadi ho gayi. Yea, I heard he got divorced some time back. Hmm, he’s running a start-up. She’s on a sabattical. Dude, check out his wife if you meet him! Fuck man, three years!
I skirt around Divya since I know.
He doesn’t skirt around Nidhi since he doesn’t.
‘How’s Nidhi?’
‘Yea... doing fine.’
‘Kahaan hai?’
‘London.’
‘Tum log shadi kab kar rahe ho?’
‘Hmm, I dunno... we’ve sort of...’
‘Don’t tell me you guys have broken up!’
‘Sort of...’
‘Abe, kya? Kaise? Fuck man! Everybody in the gang – true love to rahaa hi nahi.’
‘It’s a lon.. I mean...Hmm..’
‘I’m sure you must have been the culprit.’
Thanks for the moral support, pal.
‘Kisee aur ko dekh raha hai?’
‘Nope, taking a break.’
‘Abe kar le shadi, you’re 30 now!’
A 30something divorcee advising a 30something bachelor to get married.
‘Hmmm. How’s work?’
‘Hectic man, hectic. I have been awake yawn for the past 30 hours on this project!’
Phew.
‘What about you?’
‘Yea, can’t complain.’
I have been awake for the past 12 hours only.
‘So is XXX planning to go for an IPO soon?’
‘Dunno, haven’t told me yet.’
His Blackberry rings.
‘Hmmm... hmmm... ok. Aa raha hun.’
‘Dude, I have to leave for the presentation now. Catch you at the canteen?’
‘Cool.’

I drive into the campus. Sudda is nowhere around – still presenting I guess. The guards remember me and wave me in without asking me to sign anything, the canteen Prabhakar grins and embraces me, Chhuttan is shy and hides his face in his hands as he giggles when I tickle him. Prabhakar prepares a kadak chai for me and asks me a hundred questions – woh lambe wale saab kahaan hain? Aur Kholu? Sudda abhi aa raha hai? Shaadi ki?
I roam around the empty corridors.
I usually hate coming back to campuses. I feel lonely; all the guys I spent my times here with are gone and to the new guys I’m just a stranger. I was in college when this old guy landed up at my door in the morning and starts telling me about how he’d been in this room, years ago. And I felt really sad for him even tho’ he’d woken me up and everything.
That’s my point – why go over something that’s no more? Memories are never happy – they are always sad. Even when they have happy moments, you get sad coz those moments are not there anymore.
Sudda walks in like a filmstar: surrounded by fans. They jostle and try asking smart questions. Sudda has this face that he couldn’t care a fuck. A guy pushes forward and tells him that he’s Rank 2. Seriously – right there in front of everyone. Sudda steals a glance at me and can’t resist it. He puts on a very grave voice and says – ‘That means you’re not trying hard enough.’
I guffaw. Sudda and I barely scraped through.
Sudda drops on the chair, greets Prabhakar and yawns. The crowd disperses tho’ some wannabes lurk about. Eyeing a live top-notch IBanker.
I wonder what they think of me. They probably think I’m not even from here. If they do, they’ll probably think I am a loser.
I wonder what if I come to sell my company here – an obscure low-salary start-up. Probably not even the bottom-of-the-barrels will turn up. But I don’t feel shitty about that – placements have nothing to do with the real world.
Yawn yawn YAWNNN.
‘You wanna sleep?’
‘With whom?’
‘Is that what your standard of humor has fallen to?’
‘I have this really hot girl in my team – looks like a fucking Ms Venezuela. But she sleeps only with MDs.’
‘So how many years do you have to become one?’
‘Oh, lots.’
He nods his head sadly. Probably he thinks the girl won’t stick around till then.
‘What time is your flight?’
‘Huh... ah... 5 in the morning.’
How the hell can they live like that?
‘You sure you don’t want to crash somewhere?’
‘Nahi yaar, this is all the time I have. I can always catch a nap in flight.’
‘As you wish.’
‘Tere ghar par daaru padi hai?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Chal phir.’
He slaps his thigh and gets up and stretches.
YAAAAAWWWNNNN!

After a break-up...

Things that change

1. No body calls you with a "Kahaan ho?" unless they want to catch a drink with you. (slightly exaggerated)
2. You stop caring whether the toilet seat is up or not.
3. The maid routine lasts a lot lesser in the morning.
4. You can have a week old stubble and nobody cares.
5. You smoke in the room; and not the balconies.
6. You become a minor guest at the parties of married friends.
7. You start looking; but nobody looks back at you now.
8. Your phone bills reduce by 95%.
9. You can have parties and binges till midnight and no one sulks in the other room.
10. The mood swings from day to day are more wild.

Things that don't change

1. The world still rotates.
2. Your parents still love you.

Watching an old classic again

I think it's every cinema buffs favorite pasttime to scout for movies where the truly greats come together. Even Hoffman and DeNiro, perhas at their worst, in MeettheFockers can run a chill up your spine when you see them there together on the sceen and the entire oevres and history behind.

"On the Waterfront" - offers three greats - at their prime!
Lee J Cobb (Jury2 in 12 Angry Men and the legend of his Willy Loman that I have only heard about)
Brando, of course
and the brilliant Rod Steiger (In the Heat of the Night, Dr. Zhivago, Oklahoma - from my limited exposure to his works).

And I haven't even mentioned Karl Madsen!

Raw, brilliant, brave, groundbreaking, relevant: backed by acting of this class.
Watch this movi if you haven't. Also, read about its social context - why and how it was made.

Haikus

Inspired by posts on Vishesh's and Subbu's blogs
The wise man nods
At my words.
Alas,
He sleeps.

The light tinkle
of this yellow brook.
I shake
the last drops off.

Is Godot really dead?
I ask him
He stares silently
Holding the milk-can.

Revision

I have a friend - one of the most intelligent in terms of all-round emotional and rational yin-yang - but not in the league of the geniuses I saw in IIT (I saw only one genius in my entire IIM batch).

He's running his own company and it 's always a pleasure to speak with him. What I love is that his world-view is emerging from the risks he's taken. For example, in a discussion today on firing , many of his thoughts echoed Welch's own tho' he's not read Welch. Perhaps, they went a little beyond too. I recalled a similar conversation with another friend running a startup two years ago in Bangalore. The parallel was that both of them had gone through the teething problem of doing their first firing in a market where resources for fledgling startups is very tough to get.

One of the geniuses I knew of went to Harvard after topping in the IIT. Before that he worked in Microsoft Seattle for two years. After Harvard, he moved on to McKinsey US.

Great.

But if instead of Microsoft, the top company would have been, say, I2, I know he would have gone there. In the end, he just kept hitting the topmost band of whatever he could get. There was no pursuit of passion that he was risking for. Just following his own herd - small tho' it be.

In engineering, I was obsessed with genius.

There were guys who farted it, there were guys who didn't have it.

After almost a decade, it is the latter who surprises me right now.

These are the guys out of job for two years, risking careers/lives for ideals. Not the guys converting their genetically endowed assets to the hottest currency of the day - IB, Consulting, Harvard, Mac, IIM, whatsoever. Of course, there are exceptions - guys who would work for the Microsofts and Macs even if they were not the "hottest" jobs in the market and the guys were toppers from IIM. Exceptions in the same vein as albinos, black swans, six fingers and beauty with brains.

Very funnily, a friend on this trip told me that he was looking for self-actualization this way. But the fact is that the actualization is not self driven at all! It is market driven - big moolah, rubbing shoulders with the high and mighty, hot shot, etc. Some of them might go to build their own companies - but I am not talking about just startups per se - even that is a cliche now - guy with top network putting together something with media hype or those horrible juvenalia reeking with BGOs posturing as corporate books. I am talking about self-actualization. Finding what the self is and then actualizing on that. Unfortunately, the former goes with years, if not entire life, of heart-wrenching self-doubt and swimming upstream.

Basically, guts.

I am still forming my thoughts around this and will get back on this. Coz this is basically a reevaluation of my value set. My aim is to steer my own life around this value set; that is if I have the guts to do it.

No way out

A man entered the lift of my apartment bldg as I left for the office. About 50, laptop bag hanging on the shoulders and morning blues.
I just thot that i don't want to end up like him. In the same loop as today - living in pigeoncoops, working for MNCs.

But I don't have any exit plan.

Bland Dylan

How many dumps does a man have to take, before he knows there’s too much crap
How many prayers does it take to bring beer to the tap
How many meetings do you have to attend , before you stop to nod
Yes, and how many hours does a bitch have to yak, before you can lay that broad
The answer my friend is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind

Kholu on the harmoica here

Roster

Things looking up

I handled a crisis without letting fear creep in
I called up three friends I hadn’t spoken to for some time – just like that
I have friends to bail me out
I didn’t call someone I desperately wanted to
I got out of something cleanly
I wrote something I liked
I called up home more regularly

Things still looking down

I couldn’t control my temper at the office
I was part of office gossip again
I didn’t call some friends I should have
I snapped at my mom jut coz I was in a crappy mood
I was not prepared for a trip
I still don’t have a fucking clue of what to do with myself
I am still miles away from becoming a person who can bail someone out

Things I did that I hadn’t
I made rotis – twice. One of them turned out to be perfect.
I cleaned up my place

Things I did that I always do

I slept late
I half-listened, half dreamed

Comment on American conservatism

"If ignorance of nature gave birth to gods, knowledge of nature is made for their destruction" - Shelly

This is a comment from a blog on atheism -

I am totally overwhelmed by Mr. Pierce Butler's pithy intellect.

In the United States, a carefully-cultivated cultural schism includes not only the evangelical religious revival you speak of and a wider ideology with its own "reality" and agenda. This viewpoint, which with typical dishonesty calls itself "conservatism", is hard to delineate because of its frequent shifts and dishonesty: perhaps prototypical is an account in Time during the first Clinton administration, describing a daily talking-points fax series from the Republican National Committee to talk-radio hosts, which one day would describe Hillary Clinton as a nymphomaniac, the next day as frigid, and the next as a lesbian.

Now read this!!!

Incoherent intellectually

but well-organized politically,

this movement relies on

repetition and emotion.

I'm going to print this and pin it to my cubicle!!

Its components include a massive metanetwork of media outlets, numerous churches, think tanks and political organizations, and a followership with numerous legitimate grievances and no comprehension of how its anxieties are being manipulated for an elitist seizure of power. Essentially fascistic, this crusade is possibly unique among its kind for the absence of a central "strongman" leader: though GW Bush may seem to fill that role at present, even if he truly made White House policy decisions he would still be a figurehead, as this movement was quite powerful before anyone outside of Texas had heard of him and will be powerful after he's gone.The resurgence of religiosity in the US these days is only part of a surge of commitment to belief in the counterfactual: consider the high percentages of citizens who firmly believe that Saddam Hussein was involved in the 9/11 attacks and was preparing to hit America with "weapons of mass destruction"; that "just say no" programs could end drug abuse, teen pregnancy, etc; that foreign aid and welfare are the major causes of the federal deficit; that blacks commit most of the crimes around the country; that all gays prey on children; that abortion causes breast cancer; that the people of Haiti, Nicaragua, Vietnam, the former Yugoslavia, etc, etc, even Iraq, are grateful to the US for having been liberated by our troops; that universities are monolithic citadels of anti-American indoctrination; and so on endlessly (I didn't even mention myths regarding the "liberal media", feminists, environmentalists, most racial minorities, lawyers, teachers, unions, global warming, and countless other targets of disinformation and scapegoating).This isn't a Great Swoon, it's a Great Delirium - and it's not the result of blind impersonal historical cycles.

Strike me dead God! I am a budding criminal!

This website is so ridiculous taht I half expect it to be a mock.


Here, the site argues how crime is a direct result of - hold your breath - masturbation!


It even presents an interesting graph - I would really love to know where it picked the red line statistics from.

Read it here.