The discontentment

I have been pondering over this for some time now. I don’t know why I am like this, still can’t figure out any reason for this behaviour of mine. I am not greedy neither I expect things that are unusual. There is always some discontent in me. I have done many exciting things, seen many beautiful places, have had many thrilling experiences, yet, there is something missing in all of my experiences. Especially, last few years, with a lot of new experiences, this unhappiness has grown, irrespective of what I do. My friends were ecstatic when they saw the Swiss Alps. I saw it as well, but it dint make me euphoric rather it was like any other thing for me. I think I get more pleasure in tidying my room and keep it all organised than watching a blockbuster movie or having the most delicious food. Honestly, I don’t know what makes me happy, I have observed my behaviour, where my happy scale would be showing new highs when I speak and spend some quality time with my school friends and a few more people. I can’t even express this discontentment; I probably would be happy if I do something drastically different than the rest or do something to my standards of perfection.

Final Adieu- Good bye old England

It was 60th year of Indian independence celebrations last week. I was not in India at that time; I was away in the UK, a last few days of my stay. It wasn’t the same kind of feeling that anyone would be feeling a week before they go to their home country, to their families (well, to most Indians at least).

I have been thinking about it for weeks, this year’s Independence Day would be a bit different for me as a person, because, staying away from home country for around three years makes you feel overly patriotic. I have seen the country developing, staying away. The amount of happiness you get when you hear the sensex go up, new things are shown about India in any TV channel and all such trivial things is incomparable. Email inboxes will usually have a few forwards about India and a few web links will be off liners. I never missed anything like that and in fact I have forwarded it to many others including a few British. We have travelled miles to be a part of Indian-ness in the west. All this does not seem strange, because everything suddenly becomes “matter-of-fact” overnight and everyone practical in their thoughts and actions. I have been a part of this vogue for last three years now. I was away and staying away has changed me as a person, for the better I believe and what I believe is true.

My experience here in the UK has been immersed with different experiences, well; I would say learning/observations. Almost three years, life was completely different for the life that spent three years ago and now after three years I am returning to the life that I spent three years ago. I am sure things would have changed a lot there. I can guess that it would be no different to the place where I live now. I am happy in a way that I am following my words. I always used to say “Life in the UK is just an experience and not life!” I would say, that the life in the UK has taught me so many things that I would have probably taken a decade to learn if I were to be in India itself. It has accelerated many things in life, from being independent to appreciating and valuing people of different origins. It is amazing how we all are different, yet we all are same.
As I type this, I have a weird feeling; I am growing increasingly cynical about my return home. How I wished that I would go back when I am here, but now when the time has come, I am sceptical about my life back home. It is not that I am here all my life and am going to a completely different country for the first time, but it is still the feeling of going away from something that you unknowingly adapted and started not to dislike (for e.g. when you start craving for burgers and fries of Burger King)

Finally, a grand SALUTE and BOW to Imperial England!! GOOD BYE OLD ENGLAND! I am sure I will miss you.

PS: This again was written a couple of months back, but posting only now. Better late than never! :)

Life eh?

She was there, standing, was waiting I guess. I came rushing towards her, seeing my watch. Thought I would miss, in fact I was more than brisk walking, I was running. I was all smiling. I was early, rather it was late. I had to wait, so was she. She was restless, lifting her legs backwards at random times. She was smiling though. I was waiting, so was she. I was seated in the waiting area. She was standing though there was some seating. In front of me were the youth of Britain. 4 blond girls in skimpy clothing flashing their latest mobiles were opposite to me shouting and screaming (literally). She was still restless, I could not stand her restlessness any more. I walked to her and offered her my seat. She said, with lovely smile. I should say, she was very attractive. She came to me after that and we started speaking. She said “ I have pain in my legs and they are swollen(she showed me her feet). I cant sit because my back pains as well. I am OK this way sweetheart” I could not say anything, because she could not sit nor stand. I felt pretty bad for her state and asked her why cant she go by a cab and even offered her to call the cab for her. She smiled and her teeth less jaw was visible and she said “I cant afford it love”. I have to stay mum. She continued “ I am 82 love and have 5 children; unfortunately no one is around and I live in an old age home”. She continued her story while the bus turned up and we all got back in the queue. I carefully avoided the seat next to her as I really could not hear her story anymore, but was definitely thinking about her and how her family would be. This is life everywhere, irrespective of east or west.

PS: I had written this blog ages back, but it is up only now because of lack of time/interest.

Reflection!! in just 55 words

She was there; she saw herself in the mirror and touched her image to see if she feels any different in herself. She was experiencing the miracle in her life. She looked different than how she looked a few months back. She saw wool on the ground and the two needles. She smiled with happiness!

Tera, Mera and Uska

Scene 1: Mera: Tera, I am fed of hearing about you, please stop talking about yourself. I have never heard anything more than the ‘I’ word from you. Why do you always talk about yourself? Do you think that people would like it always? Why don’t you analyse the situation and speak, what everybody would like to hear instead of some random things about yourself?...........****Sighs!!!***

Scene 2: (Mera is reading the webpage of Uska, a common friend of Tera and Mera and praising his new article. Tera trying to read what Mera was reading) Tera: Mera, you were accusing me speaking about myself all the time, but now you are appreciating Uska’s article titled ‘Me’. I am sure you can understand that it is all about him and his nature and lifestyle. It is just him talking as a third person, but the crux is still the same, as you say, the ‘I’ word. ……………..*****desperation*****

Scene 3 Mera in his bedroom, on his own, contemplating on the events and the words used in the row, was amazed by the use of words. He thought ‘words are so powerful and the same words mean different when told in different ways. What do you call that, an oxymoron? No…I guess no term for such a thing, but it very frustrating and has put me in awkward situation now, what do I do’ Has Mera committed any mistake? Is it his fault if the words are used in different ways? Is it tough to overcome confusion by explanation, because both of them use the same words or is Mera thinking a bit too much?

Development/Confidence or a bit of boast?

It was sometime in early October 2004, during the first few classes of my MSc in University of Surrey,UK, I was very apprehensive and cynical to open my mouth, thinking that people in my class who were all from various parts of the world (I should say, I was the only Indian) would laugh at my accent and my English. I was very nervous and framed my sentence many many times, over and over again before they could hear anything from me. There was a discussion about argument, how to argue and what points should be covered in an argument and how professional an argument can be at workplace. I have read, believed and it has always worked for me that the best way to win an argument is to be quiet. I had put forward my argument (so to say) to the entire class and to the old aged professor! After much of deliberation I did say what I wanted to and the entire class did go quiet to hear the unknown voice which was too much different from the familiar voices of the Caucasian race. It was an achievement for me!! And from then on there was no debate or argument without me being involved in it in the class.


Three years on, I can see how much I have changed and how I am now, at work, generally and how different I think. I have developed the flair to identify the trueness of a person, irrespective from where he/she comes from and keeping away all the stereotypes that rules most of our decisions. One incident at work last week made me feel really proud of myself. James and Peter (names changed) also work with me and James is the supervisor of Peter (both British). I know both James and Peter pretty well. During my break, Peter comes to me and goes on about how much he dislikes working with James and how unhappy he is in his team. “Guru, there are a few people here in this place I guess who are really worth their jobs and you are one of those mate. Honestly, I have more respect to you that towards James, he is an a***h**e”. ‘James, don’t loose your heart, it is not him as a person, it is the system mate, I am sure you can understand and probably you would have done the same if you were to be in his position’, I said. ‘Go get some food’ I added. The conversation went on to several things and we were about to finish our breaks. Peter, opening the door (British diplomacy) turns back to me and says ‘Can I work for you, Guru?’ I smiled at him and said, ‘I will see what I can do for you’


It is not the fact that I can get him a job in my team, it is the experience/ conversation that makes me feel proud….. A self pat………can I say ‘Well done! Guru’

My walking experiences

Walking has been a vital part of my life, not because it is healthy n stuff, it is because I have a bit too many memories associated with that. I have always walked ever since my school days, long walks with no destination, super long walks with a friend, late night walks just to have a cup of coffee from a street vendor in Gandhi Bazaar (Bangalore, India).

My usual walk will be, well, used to be mostly alone, not on a common route but in a familiar area. Thoughts just flow in my mind as I walk, analysing myself, my day and people, people I meet, my family and the circumstances I am in and the people are in. It has always been something that I would love to do. A good company, a long walk talking to myself as I see and watch things around is like a bliss.

I have been on frequent walks when I was in India, well at least once a week and here in the UK I used to never go for long walks here. I feel it a bit intimidating and like someone is always watching you. I have never felt comfortable to go on walks here because an asian guy walking alone late in the night is an easy target and with all the drunkards around, walk would not be appealing. Lately I had been on a walk, not late night, sometime just after the evening when the temperature was just right for a walk. I was remembering all those beautiful walks in India as I walk and was talking to myself (yes, I always do) and a Brit walked beside me smiling. I smiled back and asked, “Why are you smiling? Did u hear me speaking?” There was a reply that shocked me, guess what?...... He said “I thought you heard me speaking” I was with a blank expression and he walked off. I was smiling after that and was happy to learn that I am not the only one in the world who speaks to himself, there are a few more and I had just met one. Isn’t it cool?

After all everyone is a human

Another quotable experience in public transport, this time not in the train. It was in a bus. Well, I would say an empty bus. One teenage couple; I and a white family with no woman were the only passengers in the bus. It was pretty evident that the woman of the family was not present in their lives. It was a family of two little girls and a father. The father was sitting in the front seat of the bus and the two girls were standing next to him holding the pole. The bus driver was a bit of an Indian auto driver kinds and was speeding in the narrow roads of Guildford. At one point, he applied brakes and one of the girls fell over in the bus. There was an expression in the face of the father. A mixture of anxiety over his daughter and annoyance over the driver. I can never forget that expression. It made me feel that we are all humans, after all humans. We all feel the same; we may be different in the colour of our skin or the way we speak, or the way we live, but all show the basic animal instinct to love and being loved.

Being a Twenty Something

"Being a twenty-something

It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at what u are studying or your job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.

Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure.

You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone! but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you're doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.

You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself...
and while winning the race would be great, right now you are scared just to be a contender!

What you may not realize is that every one reading this relates to it. Well everyone who is in their twenties or even thirties. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. "

This is a forward that I got sometime back. I usually wont read many of them (especially if it is an attachment), but this one I read and I feel I can relate to it too much and so you people. Let me know if this makes sense to you.

Alas.................

Alas..................men DO cry

A Perfect Picture?

I don’t work in London nor in one of those high rise buildings in its suburbs. I work in one of the richest localities of the UK in not so high rise retail complex. I sit near the window in the staff canteen, seating on one of high rise chair with my lunch box in front of me, a pack of crisp and a fruit in the staff canteen which has décor similar to a call centre in India. Trying to read a novel, I look around to see if anyone is bothered to see what I am eating/doing. Bored with the book, I see through the window to see this perfect picture (?) A not-so-common bright sunny, yet cold winter day in the UK, traffic signal with the red lights on and around ten cars neatly aligned one behind another within the small lane. A family with teenagers who were surprisingly well behaved, a young mum with the baby in the buggy looking frantic as she cross the road and a group of youngsters with either coke/coffee cups in their hands. There I sit on the high seat with a crisp in my hand and mouth open and look amazed. Just around 200 pictures flash through my memory as it a happens in one of the those old Bollywood films when the hero sees his long-lost twin brother, but here with me no twin brothers, but reminding me of everything I miss. My family, friends and all those lovely and long chats and laughs in my college/school days. The chaotic traffic, the buzz of peoples’ presence (yes, just the presence) all flash in front of me as a collage and I think that was perfect picture!!

My first grey hair :-)

Um….. it is time for me to realize that I am getting old I guess. I have got my first grey hair and believe it or not I have taken its picture. It will be daft if I upload that picture. I am thinking, am I that old or is it because I am thinking too much or is it because a mixture Garnier Fructis, Head n Shoulders, Dove and Himalaya shampoo for a week can cause some greyness? I prefer to choose the third option.