tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46110970735539688402024-02-09T02:20:58.572+05:30MY SILENT RAMBLINGS...Whenever I have this gnawing in my head, and I want that to stop...these silent ramblings begin...and hand hits keyboard! The consequence? Right below - A journey into my own kingdom...Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-73370485408189826642014-04-28T15:46:00.000+05:302014-04-28T15:47:15.613+05:30Friends for life!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I still remember the day we first met, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess God has some things just set.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Time has gone by,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am glad we stood by.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You stayed with me in thick and thin,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can’t forget the support you all gave,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With all those words of wisdom,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You gave me smile and took away my stress.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The time we spent together, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The numerous talks and laughs we had…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have filled my life with wonderful memories,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that’s why I want to thank you, for being my friend.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day has come, to say you all Goodbye,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I pray we will meet again and I am sure we will!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because our friendship can’t be so weak,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the world is not even so BIG.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to say more, much more than this, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I guess, that would always be…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s better left for the day,</div>
Until we meet again…...</div>
Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-26138563865461985182013-11-08T22:21:00.001+05:302013-11-08T22:22:37.247+05:30An Unusual Outpour <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last Sunday, our village team at Karma Yoga* had organized a
special science session for kids. We reached the village and as usual kids came
running towards us. They assembled in the church, waiting for us to start the
session. But I was waiting for Gautam, who was absent that day. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gautam is a 12 year old kid who stays in the village with
his family. His father is a farmer in the village. He has got 2 younger
sisters. I have been teaching around 12 children including Gautam for the last 6
consecutive Sundays. There is something unique about this kid, which got me
interested in him. There is a particular spark on his face with bright eyes. He listens carefully to every word that I
speak, understands things, and shows his eagerness to learn. He seems more
mature than his age. He is quite versatile in his interests – studies, games,
general knowledge, and cartoons. He is a bright child and can go a long way in
life. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the studies, I used to take him for a daily stroll on
the village streets. We spoke all kinds of things. I inquired of him on what’s
happening at school and how the usual things are at home. His English is weak and
can hardly talk. It is more of telepathy that works between us. As the weeks
went by, seeing his enthusiastic nature for learning, I started thinking of more
new things and ways to teach him in particular. It brought out the teacher in
me and I started giving him challenging homework. He used to take it very
seriously and it has never happened that he hasn’t done a thing that I have asked
him to do. I didn’t realize that our bond became so strong until that day when
he didn’t turn up for class.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My eyes were fixed at
the door and I wanted to defer the session till he came. Eventually we had to start
the session without him. There were 11 other usual children who were eagerly
listening to what we were telling and trying to absorb the tacit knowledge. 15
min later Gautam came with his bag. He was limping and I could see his right
leg injured. I left the book that I had in my hand, ran towards him, and picked
him on my arms. All students and children stared at me with the confusion to
see my outpour of feelings towards Gautam. I myself didn’t realize how much I
missed him that day. He told me that he got hurt while playing at school.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On my ride back to college I was looking out of the window
and sinking the moments that had happened. Holding the little boy gave me
immense satisfaction – something words fail to describe. I just got another
reason to continue my village visits. It was amazing to see how much I got
attached to the kid whom I met just 6 times. I realized that I want to do
something more for Gautam. I don’t know to what extent I can empower him or
whether I can help him in a substantial way. All I know is that I want to see
that kid break the shackles of his present, and find success in future. I know
he has talent and I seriously hope destiny is with him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
*Karma Yoga - Karma Yoga is a leadership experiential
project which is part of our MBA program in which, we the students visit the
villages in order to empower the villagers so that they can lead a better life. </div>
</div>
Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-86532808415479829532013-04-21T22:09:00.000+05:302013-04-21T22:09:56.907+05:30Someone Else....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I saw you and wanted to see you more,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then I realized you just wanted to see someone else!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought I might impress you,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I forgot you were already impressed by someone else</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I liked your words coming out of your mouth and the charm in
each sentence you spoke…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then I noticed it all speaks of someone else</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The curly hair that kept drifting back at your face – your
natural beauty</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh damn, it just belonged to someone else!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those big eyes, and the big smile on your face…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…that just grew bigger when you saw some else. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was so much love in your voice,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it just exhibited when you spoke to someone else</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wanted you to look into my eyes just once…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Alas, you couldn't keep them off someone else!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My heart thumps loud when I see you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But you are too busy to listen to someone else…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Neither the board meetings, nor the steep targets – it’s you
who makes me nervous</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My bad, you just cared for someone else</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You shook my hand, and I wanted to hold it tight…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shit, it just wanted to slip into the hands of someone else!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hope to see you again and tell you how I feel for you,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just so that you know - there's always someone else…</div>
</div>
Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-81449791699886023832013-04-07T22:44:00.000+05:302013-04-07T22:44:09.620+05:30Wave Talk<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not too long back, I went to Mumbai and happened to visit
Juhu Beach. I was standing at the shore when a wave came and touched my feet. I
don’t know if it was a different feeling than the experience that I had before
of Miramar Beach of Goa. Within a second I heard a voice: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How are you Mohit? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: I am fine. Who are you?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: I am a wave. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: What do you want?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: I want to speak to you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: Tell me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: I want to speak to you because at some point of time I
was just like you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: I don’t understand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: All waves have characteristics just like humans. When
I see you, it reminds me of my past.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: Ohhkk. So?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: Mohit, what do you think of yourself? What type of
person you are?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: I am nice person.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: How can you say so?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: I think I don’t do wrong to anyone. I am well-wisher. I
have the opinion that the people who know me think in the same way too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: Why do you think your friends love you?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: Because, I am their true friend. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: I think they just empathize to you and your problems. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: I don’t agree.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: Why do you have to take yourself so seriously? Why
can’t you be free and live life like no one did?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: I can’t help. That’s the way I am. You see, I have some
responsibilities and I find myself surrounded by them always.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: Who does not have responsibilities? Who does not care
for their family and support them? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: Ya, I know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: Do you know what life wants from you?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: No, tell me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: Life wants you to live freely. Not like an underdog.
Rise above that level for heaven sake. That’s your biggest problem. Some things
are not in your hands. Leave it to God. He will take care of them. You can do
great. Trust me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: How do you know that?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: I told you, I was just like you. I have always been a
weak wave. But see today, I have crossed everything, came so far and touched
you. I never thought that I will be able to do it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: I see.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: Mohit, I want to tell you that you are lucky to have
such caring family and friends. You deserved it. But do something in your life
for which people remember you, even several years after you pass away. You have
the opportunity to make it count. Don’t kill time in non-fruitful activities. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me: Can you tell me what exactly I need to do?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wave: You already know the answer Mohit. Don’t you? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then the wave went back and got mixed with other waves
leaving me in all kinds of thoughts. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-41965995965514394192013-02-09T22:28:00.005+05:302013-02-09T22:28:58.644+05:30At 60! Feeling Helpless?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Life is strange. As children we are dependent on our parents
for most of the things. We respect them, love them, care for them as our
universe starts from them and ends at them. We grow up, start working, earning
and become independent. We no longer have to plead them to eat an ice-cream. Slowly,
we imagine ourselves as the supreme leader in the family and forget the
sacrifices that they have done to bring us up. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A week ago, I was travelling from Bareilly to Rudrapur by a
UP transport bus. An old lady (60+) was sitting with me. We were about to reach
Rudrapur. She tried to call her son couple of times so that he could come to the
bus-stand to receive her, but she could not. She asked me to help her. I called
and gave the phone to her. She put the phone on “Loudspeaker” to listen
clearly. Her daughter-in-law picked up the phone and asked her to come on her
own. Her husband in the background told the same to her. Old lady pleaded to
send her son as she was carrying 3 bags with her and it was already 11 at
night. She refused and cut the phone call. Everyone in the bus could hear the
conversation. I saw her face. She was tensed, frightened, dejected and could
cry at any moment. I felt for the lady. In this cold, temperature below 8, it
was difficult to even put your hands out of the pocket. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We reached the bus-stand. I took her bags and helped her,
get down the bus. I called a rickshaw for her. She sat and I paid the money.
The lady moved her hand over my head in order to give her blessings. She left
and I took another rickshaw to my hotel. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had mixed feelings. I felt bad for what the lady has to go
through and felt good that I did nice gesture by helping her. I wonder how
children change their feelings towards their parents. We can see many such
cases in our neighborhood, where the children abandon their parents or exploit
them daily. A lot of introspection is required about how our societies are
moving. With the economic growth, the life expectancy in India is also
increasing. We all need to secure our future so that we don’t land up in such
situations. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some of the things that we can do are: inculcate good family
values to our children. Make them understand that they too will become parents
one day. Do not name your assets- land or property after them in advance. Try
old-age shelters if nothing works. Do not waste your pension. Try saving some
part of it. It is for your benefit only. Children are already losing a lot by
not taking their parents’ guidance, which they don’t understand. At the same
time government needs to take initiatives for the old age people. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All I can say is let’s be strong to face such adversity in
life. Do not expect much. And I hope none of us have to see such a day in our
lives. </div>
</div>
Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-14755726580907140032012-10-24T20:19:00.005+05:302012-10-24T20:19:50.758+05:30U Are Nothing, But a Mass of Habits<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">The dictionary meaning of habit is “An acquired behavior
pattern regularly followed until it has become almost involuntary”. Most of our
life is habitual. You do the same things that you did yesterday. That’s how
life goes on. You never realize which of your habits are good or bad, just
because you don’t analyze them. It happens with everyone.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I was a child, I remember my father told me once to
think everything that you did today before going to sleep. Think what were the
things that you did wrong, and not to repeat them. And repeat this each day.
This will help you to become a nice individual. After that day, my father never
asked me to check whether I was following this practice each day or not. If he
would have done that, I would have probably followed it from my childhood days.
So, the truth is, I never thought of this question even once for
the next 10 years of my life; before one fine day I realized some of my flaws and the number of
times I repeated them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You see, there is no age of developing good habits. Some of
us are lucky enough to have great childhood learning, in the proper guidance of
their family members. Some might not have it. But, life teaches each one of us.
We all fall some or the other time in life, but the important thing is to learn
from that fall and continue the journey with more confidence by converting bad
habits into good ones. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember I had this habit of procrastinating things.
Whenever there is any task to do, there is usually some time frame given to complete
that task. I used to procrastinate the task up to the last very day. Once, I
had to pay heavy price for this bad habit of mine. And that day, I swore before
the God I will never ever delay the things.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You go and analyze lives of top CEOs of MNCs, top analysts
of any country, top officials, top sportsmen, anyone who is doing outstanding in
their field of work. They manage thousands, lacks of people. But, you see how
they manage themselves. Each and every second of their lives are bounded by
their good habits. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even a small change you do today and make it a habit, it can
result in a big way after some years. If you need to keep growing, changes are
necessary. Learn to change according to the situation, learn to improvise, otherwise
you will fall behind and the time will prevail. Make good habits because habits
whatever may be good or bad make you who you are. Remember “Good Things Will
Always Remain Good”; how, where, when they might help you in some or the other
way, you just can’t imagine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-76057145954868727052010-06-18T08:54:00.002+05:302010-06-18T09:01:11.180+05:30A TRIBUTE TO MY FRIENDS<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">It has been quite a while that I have started writing. I never thought that I would or I should say I could write on a public interface. I have been poor in English throughout my student life. Over the time, I have improved as a writer, as a thinker. Every time I sit to write something, I delve into my past, my life, which has been a normal kind of sorts but unique in its own way. I search out for something, something interesting enough for u all to know. My motive is just to bring happy grin on your face. The little praises like “Gud one”, “Nice” have kept me on and I am really thankful to you all. I want to give special thanks to Anirudh who has been fountainhead of inspiration to me. I want to thank Rashmi, Nitin, Aditya, Tushar, Tushar, Navanshee, Alpa, Pankaj, Pankaj, Ankur, Sadhvi, Jitesh, Rajesh, Lav, Naseem, Rahul, Hitesh and many more who have constantly read my blogs and supported me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Life is a combination of journeys or phases. One gets over, other starts. Each one has a different impact on us. These small, little stories that I have shared with you are a part of a journey that I have covered with u all. I hope to continue writing more of some stories in the time to come. Remember hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>no good thing ever dies. ...</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-53929674944833570082010-03-20T21:22:00.003+05:302010-03-20T21:46:24.695+05:30COLLEGE LIFE<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">With less than 2 months to the end of our college, I can’t imagine that momentous day when I will say goodbye to my friends, classmates with whom I have spent last 4 yrs. Its amazing how quickly the time passes and we just continue to move with its wheel. <br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">4yrs of my college life are as clear as crystal in mind. I still remember the first day I walked into the campus with a fear of getting ragged by seniors. We all classmates used to remain together wherever we went (even while going to loo). I remember myself being caught by my seniors on a number of occasions and making me do silly things; but that was fun. I liked it because everything was done in controlled and friendly manner. <br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Today, when the college is almost over, I can say that there are many such things that I have felt, learnt, experienced in these 4yrs and I consider all those people lucky who enjoy their college life to the fullest.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>College is about friends, about fun, about exploring the real world. It’s the phase when you enter into adult life and parents give you freedom that you were looking for in the school. Now how to handle that freedom is in your hands. It can either improve you or spoil you. <br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I remember being tortured in school with those strict rules and regulations. The first time I bunked in college was real fun. I couldn’t believe that the teacher is coming to teach us and all the students of the class are running away after writing “THE CLASS IS ON BUNK TODAY” on blackboard. And there were many such occasions when we bunked the classes and went out to watch the latest movie. <br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There was hardly anyone in the class who was not called by their nicknames. Making fun of others had become our daily routine. There were numerous moments when our eyes got filled with tears after a big laugh. There was hardly any sentence in which someone didn’t abuse someone else. Taking photographs of each other, giving funny poses. <br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I am sure everyone had many short time crushes if not the full fledged love story. Some things that we came across in every semester were: Copying the assignments, photocopying the syllabus just a day before exam, running after teachers to complete the attendance, cultural rehearsals before Fest, bullying the person performing on stage and what not… <br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The tension before job interview; the disappointment after not being selected and the elation after being selected are ultimate moments of life. <br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But beyond all this, I want to say that college life is the time when a person starts understanding himself more than anyone else. It’s the time of life when one starts foreseeing his career; where he wants his life to be after 5 or 10 yrs. Away from all this fun, he starts taking his life seriously. Other than studies, this is the time of grooming one’s personality and start thinking from a wider perspective. <br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are many more things that I want to say about college life, but I guess the words will always seem less when we talk about college.</p><p></p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-46070048285919010642010-02-11T23:08:00.003+05:302010-02-12T13:24:04.178+05:30THE DAY I GOT SCARED!!<p class="MsoNormal">Have you seen people getting scared? Have you seen a man running on road ahead of a group of wild dogs? Have you seen people getting scared before an interview? Have you seen a thief running for his life? Now there can be many such instances where people are terrified and their tension can be easily felt. Just look into their eyes and you will realize how much pressure they are in. In all these situations, the person who is afraid can do himself a favor and can get out of it. <br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Now imagine a situation in which you can’t do anything but pray to God that everything goes out well. I tell you what happened last week. I had an exam and by coincidence my neighbor also filled that exam and got the same centre. We agreed to go together. For me it was a welcome change from my usual companion “Bajaj Chetak”. <br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Exam timing was 2-4 p.m. Reporting time was 1:30.We had to take along a photograph with us. I reached his home at 11:00 and found him in his underpants searching his drawer to get photograph.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At 11:10 he gave up and decided to go without it. He had 2 cars. One Maruti 800- 1992 Model and another Santro-2006 model. He sat in Maruti, disappointing me for the second time. He tried to start 6-8 times but couldn’t do it. I hoped he didn’t tell me to push a little. My inner voice told me that all is not well. I asked him to go on santro. I tried to be as generous as I could but it was 11:20 by my watch. <br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Finally we left at 11:25. He told me that this car doesn’t have petrol. We went to the nearest petrol pump and he wanted to make payment by credit card but their machine was not working. I gave 100 bucks and left. My watch showed 11:40. <br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal">He was continuously talking on phone, fixing the place and time to meet up his friends in evening to go on some party. He didn’t mind breaking signals. He didn’t fasten his seat belt. He didn’t mind touching 100Km/hr every now and then. He didn’t mind abusing rickshaw pullers for not giving him side.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>All this was making me crazy. As I was hoping that cops don’t stop us, he abruptly stopped the car near a small shop on the roadside and brought 2 cigararettes. And between all this, he was as calm as a cucumber. Whenever he found space he did’t mind converting his 1100cc car to an aircraft. <br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal">I sneaked 2min from his continuous phone calls and asked “don’t you get afraid”. He laughed at me and said “don’t you worry my friend, you will reach on time”. His sweet words could hardly embrace me. Suddenly he stopped the car again and told that it seems the tyre has got punctured. I was chocked for a min. He opened the door and took a 360 degree round checking all 4 tyres. He came back and said everything is fine. “Don’t you worry my friend, you will reach on time”. <br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Finally after all those hiccups we reached 10 min before time. Credit goes to his avg speed 80km/hr and breaking signals. Reaching on time was like going in the mouth of lion and coming back safely. <br />
</p><p class="MsoNormal">That day I realized how difficult it is when your life’s steering is in other’s hand. Don’t let anyone drive your life like this.</p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-41821753898310667372009-12-22T12:16:00.003+05:302009-12-22T12:20:34.825+05:30DREAMING HIGH!!<p class="MsoNormal">There are 3D’s in life : Desire, Determination & Dedication. You will need all the three to reach new heights; but, it all starts with the 4<sup>th</sup>D… Dreams. This was an sms which I received some days ago from one of my dearest friend. <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Everyone talks of dreams, but no-one tells how to get dreams. I think, there is something which is required to start dreaming. I mean, that if you don’t know what you are missing in life, then you can’t dream. Am I being too philosophical here?? Ok let me explain with an example. <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Last year, I went to Auto -Show being organized at Pragati Maidan. There were 100s of new models of sparkling new cars. As I was going through my eyes caught Mercedes Benz (S-class). I went there and asked for a try. I sat inside for 2 min, held the steering and gave a pose, not because to show it off later to my friends; but to continuously remind myself that this is “THE IDEAL” car. I don’t know if I would ever own it, but now since I know what it feels like to be sitting in one of the most luxurious and costliest car of the world; I can start dreaming about it. <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Once you start realizing you dreams, you start working hard to achieve them. But I have seen many of us lose determination in the tough race of life. At that time, one must get an opportunity to remind himself and again start working towards it. How about giving a lift to a poor fellow who has to walk daily for several kilometers? There can be many other such ways which YOU & I can do seamlessly and be a symbol of great motivation to both rich and poor people. Rich people will no longer be complacent and boastful. In this way both rich and poor people will start respecting each other and will do a great for our society. <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I don’t know if I am talking any sense to you all, but still, this is what I feel. It’s the “EXPERIENCE” that is required to get dreams. Keep enjoying those experiences so that you keep DREAMING HIGH!!</p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-25449577275081607442009-09-02T23:12:00.002+05:302009-09-02T23:19:20.394+05:30“HE THROWS AT ME A PEACH, I GIVE HIM A PLUM”There are two types of people in this world:-
<br />
<div>
1.) Who lose their temper at every other second, and<div>
<br />
2.) Who remain calm for most of the time but when they lose it, as some learned people say, “they spark the damp firewood”.
<br />
<div>
I think the later ones are quite dangerous and guess what??; by God’s grace I fall into the same category. I am not telling you all this so that you fear of me.</div><div>
<br />
I haven’t have fights at all in my life except those “cat fights” with my sis which still happens daily on almost all things. I am talking of the serious fights, which include punches in the stomach, powerful kicks, which leads to the blood flowing from nostrils to mouth, to neck and the blackened swollen eye; before a group of people come in between you. It all looks like the same bollywood films, but it actually happens. I, myself have come so many times in between my friends and sometimes enjoyed their contretemps, but never got a chance to be the cynosure of all eyes. Not that I fear of them, but I choose to avoid them.
<br /></div><div>
I have seen people in my family fighting for property, money and all other issues that you can think of. At that time I was too young to take part in one. I tell you, it was till date, worst time of my life. </div><div>
</div><div><br />
I always believe that it’s not the physical strength that matters, it’s the mental strength and the grandness of heart which holds the key. At that time, whenever there used to be a WWE match in our veranda, I used to run to the terrace away from anything, everything. I used to weep, yell, pray to god.
<br /></div><div>
Gradually, the situation improved, but I didn’t stop going on to the terrace. I still go for a daily stroll in the evening away from all the routine works; where I am all by myself, gazing towards the sky, towards the birds flying back to their abode, the setting sun and the dark clouds spreading all over the sky. It’s all that serene beauty of nature that has now become my old friend and there is one corner on terrace which is still the best part of my home.
<br /></div><div>
And all I can say now that these things, have made me mentally strong to face the life ahead.</div></div></div>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-20055204855532378042009-08-09T09:51:00.000+05:302009-08-09T09:52:57.086+05:30MONSOON RAINS!!<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";color:black">MONSOON RAINS!! How eagerly we all wait for the monsoon rains after being baked in the sun for almost four consecutive months. I want to ask all of you:- is there someone amongst you, who hates rains?? If yes, just let me know :-)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";color:black">In northern India, the summer comprises of almost 8 months with people craving for rains, but I hate them. I know you must be thingking that this man is crazy. I'll tell you why. The rains come and there is sudden change in temperature. Due to these unannounced variations in temperatures, I catch what you commonly know to be “common cold”. As the name suggests, it’s quite common among people, but the consequences of “common-cold” in my case are not very common. What follows, is sneezing spree at least 10 times a min, a blocked nose and the headache. And if I don’t take medicines on time it can get me viral fever. This is what I've been going throuh for the last 20 yrs - every time there is attraction between the positive charge of earth and negative charge of clouds (right, na?). The scent of the wet ground which is appreciated almost by everyone, is one of the foulest odors for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";color:black">Secondly, whenever it rains, all work comes to a halt. Thanks to our inadequate drainage system. The situation really worsens in my area. I can’t go out for work. The population of skeeters surge with a rate of 10^10 every minute.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";color:black">Last week, the Lord Indra became generous for the first time this season and it was raining cats and dogs. I went out in veranda and I saw a young girl of around 5yrs old enjoying the rain in her veranda. She was soon joined by her younger sister. As the younger one came, she fell down. She stood up and put her right leg forward and fell down again. But she never cried. She stood up again and warily came out. Both started to enjoy the rain with their arms stretched, facing the sky with eyes closed. They cuddled each other as I stood there watching them. The first time I realized how much do people love rain. I wanted to become part of their celebrations. Soon their mom came and admonished them and took them in.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";color:#500050"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That day I realized what I am missing in life. Keep enjoying the rains so that I keep enjoying watching you.</p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-38280709768594577302009-06-21T23:18:00.002+05:302009-06-21T23:21:06.427+05:30COUNTRY LIFE<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black">It's june end and it is scorching hot; waiting for the monsoon desperately. This time of the year is generally of summer holidays and it reminds me of my visit to my maternal grandmother’s place. I haven’t been there for some years now, but I still remember every detail of the splendid country life.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> Surrounded by fields, it’s a small village; ohh sorry, it was a small village; now its no longer a village as mum says. You know how moms are attached to their native places - dismissing their childhood abode as small, isn't exactly the wisest thing to do.</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> Every time you go there, it's all the same. You will never find anything really special. People wake up at about 4 in the morning. The same sounds, whiff of fresh air, the villagers walking along the sides of the road to the market, women with sacks of grass supported by their petite shoulder blades, unwaveringly steady. The small stalls at the end of roads, the naked brown children skittering through dust, dung spread loosely through roads, bullock carts, et all...</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> They are never in a hurry. It seems that they have all the time in the world. I can’t understand one thing - they really don’t have any private life. The neighbors, the neighbors’ neighbors and their neighbors are all part of one family. In fact, any one from that village is as dear as any other family member would be.</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> I remember at night, there were power cuts for hours and there was no inverter as saving grace, so we used to come out in veranda, lay the Chaarpai and lie on it. I used to get miffed by the mosquitoes' monotonous humming around my ears even as I sought cover...</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> But in one aspect they seem to have won the race; in terms of happiness... I think they are much more content in their simple, rustic life. They have little ambition. The satisfaction level in city people is much less.</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black"><o:p> So this would be a rough picture of the country side and if you have been to one, it would probably remind you of your own visits...</o:p></span></p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-9524415846862133362009-06-05T00:01:00.003+05:302009-06-05T00:27:17.634+05:30EXAMS EMOTIONS AND UR FAVORITE PASS-TIME<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">So finally, my semester exams have finished and since I was booked in my room for past one month, I am short of ideas. But I have come up with something that most of us can relate to.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> All of us give numerous exams in our lives. And I know that almost everyone of us have some superstitions in mind. I also have some, but their intensity has decreased now. Some of them were:-</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> I would not shave before the exam. I had this in mind that it would spoil the paper.</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">To use the same pen and wear the same clothes in every exam if one of them goes good, and vice-versa.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> I have given many national level papers and I remember seeing thousands of parents waiting eagerly to receive their kids. And I used to scrutinize among them to find out my dad. And when you find them, what do you see? Hope on the face that my kid has done well. I think this is the one thing that I cherish the most and would continue doing so. When the results come, and you have done well, then that feeling of pleasure is ultimate. And for that ultimate feeling we are doing so much hard work. Isnt it?</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> Now, enough of exam talk. Let us move on to something which interests us the most. I know many of my friends who are crazy for one damn thing, and they can leave everything else for it. Some of them are crazy for gaming, some for music, some for reading and bla bla bla…. For the last few days I have been thinking hard on whether I've got something special of that kind, but couldn’t find one. I have never been into anything with mad passion; probably can’t take anything beyond a limit because I get bored and want to switch on to something else. Still, life is not over yet and the game is still on. Let's see - One day I will find one for sure.</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> But the thing that I want from you guys is that you have to post a comment and tell me that one damn thing that you are crazy about and why. If you haven’t got any like me then think a bit and tell me. Could you do this for me? Please... I don’t know if I am asking for something out-of-box. Try it. Okay?!!</o:p></span></p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-39278654376533392242009-05-03T23:34:00.002+05:302009-05-03T23:39:38.095+05:30PHONE CALL<p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">Hmm.... I expect you missed me last month…he he - probably some of you I know that. But I’m in no mood to explain my irregularities. But yeah, I am back - and I will survive.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">Last week, I went to one of my school friends’ home. It had been a long time. As we were eagerly listening to each other, when his younger brother came rushing from school with a love letter in his hand. He was in the 2<sup>nd</sup><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>standard. Yes, a girl in his class had proposed to him. I wondered whether it was too early… ;-) I am probably three times his age and still looking forward to such a day! :-D<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">It reminded me of the prank that a girl played on me. …… I was in 9<sup>th</sup><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>standard, month of January - Sorry I don’t remember the date, but yeah - it was in the evening probably around 6:30 as my dad was already back from work. The phone rang. At that time I didn’t have any mobile, so my school pals usually called me on the landline no.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"> My dad picked up the phone and a girl said: “ CAN I TALK TO MOHIT”?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">DAD:- May I know who is speaking?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">Girl:- I am Mehak .<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">Now, my dad knew about Mehak as she was my classmate since nursery and she used to live very close to my home and also because she was the only girl who called me and that too on days that she would have missed the school and she need to ask about that day’s homework. So my dad gave me the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">ME:- Hello. “ Yes…. Who is this?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">MEHAK:- hello, mein mehak bol rahi hun yaaaar ,,,,,, kya haal hain tere,,,, tu milta hi nai hai aaj-kal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">ME:- Now I was shocked, I had never expected that. The voice was familiar but it wasn’t mehak. I asked again “ aap kaun bol rahe ho?” (As I asked for the second time my father who was in the same room glanced me.)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">MEHAK:- “ mein mehak bol rahi hun yaaaar.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">I dropped the phone, took a deep breath and went back to my room. 2 min later, the phone rang again, and my dad picked it again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">ME:- hello,,,, “ Who is this”?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">MEHAK:- <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>mein mehak bol rahi hun yaaaar…. Tujhse <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>kuch samajhna tha yaar maths mein….. tujhe kitni baar bola hai………..tu samjhaata hi nai hai yaaaar. Mein tere ghar aa jaaun??<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">I sprung in surprise; That seductive tone got me more and more uncomfortable as my father was right in front of me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:13px;">
</span></p> <p><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">In an eluding way I told her to meet me the next day and dropped the phone. I was probably immature at that time. Later I found out that she was my sister’s friend who usually came to our home. She was 2 years elder to me. After that phone call, there hasn’t been any call of that kind to which I could do proper justice. Probably I am not so gullible now. But you know, the reality is that we boys always would love to be deceived by the girls. But the girls generally don’t take charge. I hope someday they will. Okay, time to go, my phone is ringing……..hahhaahaa<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span> ;-)<o:p></o:p></span></p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-88044870602616055662009-03-22T23:48:00.001+05:302009-03-22T23:52:03.700+05:30COMMISSION OF ERRORS<p class="MsoNormal">Yesterday, I was going through one of the articles in newspaper which reminded me of my school days. I was one of the most studious, sincere and bla..bla..bla.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>in my class. But who cares for dat?? Certainly, my siblings! Perplexed?? <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I know…. But u know, the great disadvantage of having elder brother who is the most idle son, idle student and<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>is that u r constantly compared to him. Same was the case with me and my sis. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I was sincere doesn’t mean that I wasn’t scolded by my teachers. I want to share some of the incidents on which I was severely punished by my teachers, either due to my stupidity or bcoz I was trying to act over-smart.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I don’t remember a single teacher of mine (except dat of maths which only consisted of numbers) who hasn’t scolded me for my cacography. But I never paid attention to their remarks. Now sometimes I feel envy of the 1<sup>st</sup> class students who have better handwriting than me but I console myself by saying “ yaar ab to e-mail ka jamana hai”. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I remember, it was back in my 9<sup>th</sup> standard, in history class; our teacher was reciting the chapter as we were scrutinizing the lines. Suddenly mam paused…….. shouted …….Sudeeeeeeeppp (my partner)…… who is sitting wid u??<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sudeep:- mam, Mohit.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">ME:- still looking into the book.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><br /> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sudeep tugged me. I gaped at him as everyone looked at me. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mam:- r u day-dreaming??<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I stood up, unable to understand wat was the fuss about…… , kept mum.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On another occasion I didn’t complete my English homework. The teacher asked who hasn’t done home-work. I raised my hand and saw I was the sole person. I knew many more wudn’t hv done but never told mam.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">MAM:- come here.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My heart sank. My throat turned dry. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I went. She adjusted her bangles and then my necktie and bang! Bang! on my cheek. I became red like tomato.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The next time u come without it and I will throw u out of this window. I wondered she could hv admonished me as it was my first time.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I remember wearing my white canvas shoes on Thursday. On one day I forgot to polish them. The PT teacher called me and asked wats the color of ur shoes? I thought yaar aaj to gaya. I thought why not to bring smile to his face. I said in a joking way. Sir, Blackish white. I thought he wud also sneer but he pulled my ear n told me to take 10 rounds of the playground.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I feel gud today that I have studied in an environment of strict discipline which always imbibes good qualities which u ought to carry throughout ur life.</p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-48381891327674908092009-02-28T21:29:00.005+05:302009-03-04T18:15:24.022+05:30HOPING TRANSLATING TO HAPPENING!<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:#500050;">Some of the things u always hope but never get:-
(Right from a child to an adult )</span><span style=" font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; font-family:";font-size:12.0pt;color:#500050;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">Ø Waking up late in the morning and hoping that the schoolbus would</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">
</span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">arrive late.</span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">
<br /></span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">Ø Hoping that the teacher stays absent on the day of a test you've</span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">
</span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">not prepared for!</span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">
<br /></span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">Ø On an empty bus and hoping that a hot chick sits right next to you</span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">Ø Having an extramarital affair without your wife knowing</span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">Ø SENSEX continuing to soar</span><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">Ø A terrorism free world.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(80, 0, 80); "></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(80, 0, 80); ">Ø Indian politics do not remain as bad as it is.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(80, 0, 80); font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi- line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">Ø Hoping that India bags a medal in hockey in Olympics this time.</span><span style="line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:black;">
<br /></span><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-line-height: 115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-line-height: 115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; font-family:";font-size:11.0pt;color:black;">Let me tell u, the Oscar was on my list and this time Indians have won the coveted Oscars for the first tym.</span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";color:black;"> The film bagged eight awards including two Oscars for Rahman for Best Original Score and Best song "Jai Ho", which was penned by lyricist Gulzar and one for Resul Pookutty.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";color:black;"> But for me, <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>the film didn’t work. It’s my personal opinion. But kudos to A.R.RAHMAN, GULZAR, RESUL POOKUTTY . JAI HO!!</span></span><span style="Arial","sans-serif"; font-family:";color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"; font-family:";color:black;"><br />
<span class="apple-converted-space"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;color:#500050;">So, keep the hope alive so that in your heart the juice
is worth the squeeze because if one fine day u get what u want and u
don't know how to celebrate, then that moment will get wasted.</span><span style="Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";color:black;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-63652451680493610252009-02-14T22:48:00.000+05:302009-02-14T22:50:10.748+05:30A PEEK OUT OF THE WINDOW - IS THAT ME?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; "><div class="Ih2E3d" style="color: rgb(80, 0, 80); ">2 days back I was on my way to my college and I was snarled-up in the
</div>traffic jam; what's that? bumper-to-bumper. It sometimes becomes quite
frustrating especially when you are getting late for work. So I was
<div class="Ih2E3d" style="color: rgb(80, 0, 80); ">sitting on one of the window seats; frustrated and hoping the traffic
</div>gets cleared asap and my eyes got hold of a small kid(sweetest of
their kind) seated in a car next to the bus stuck in the dreaded
traffic like the whole lot of us. His face scored all my attention. He
may have been just about 2 years old. He caught me glancing at his
movements
<br />
I smiled. He gave me an uncharacteristic sneer - not what we ususally
expect from two-year olds. I gaped as he tried to wriggle free from
his mother's (I guess) embrace. In doing so, his head collided with
the window pane and for perhaps a quarter of a minute cried and then
<div class="Ih2E3d" style="color: rgb(80, 0, 80); ">mopped his forehead with his hand; opened his mouth and shut it again;
his tongue moved over his lips. He seemed to brace himself. He
clenched and unclenched his tiny hands. His eyes were large and
</div>luminous and he stood goggling at me again. He pursed his lips, raised
his eyebrows. I was non-plussed. I shrugged, and he shook his head at
me. I had never seen such calm in a kid. As our telepathy ensued, the
<div class="Ih2E3d" style="color: rgb(80, 0, 80); ">traffic cleared and the bus started to pick speed. I waved my hand and
he waved his hand too and the feeling of receiving from the other end
was simply terrific.
<br />
Its amazing how the lives get more and more complicated as we grow up;
</div>striving hard for each and everything else in this competitive world
only to lose ourselves. I wish I could a 2 year old all my life;
<div class="Ih2E3d" style="color: rgb(80, 0, 80); ">naïve, innocent; away from the cruel tortures of the world; away from
all the problems of life; away from all the responsibilities and
</div>obligations …….. JUST I, ME AND MYSELF.</span>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-81673277594346426142009-01-28T22:33:00.001+05:302009-01-28T22:38:35.824+05:30"THANK GOD! IT WAS ONLY A DREAM, AFTER ALL"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"><p><span lang="EN-US">I suppose everybody's had the experience at one time or another of waking up after a nightmare in which they were being chased by leopards or chewed by cannibals or some such thing and drawing a deep breath and saying to themselves: "THANK GOD!<span> </span>IT WAS ONLY A DREAM, AFTER ALL".</span></p><p>
</p><p><span lang="EN-US">That's how it was with me on the 27<sup>th</sup> Nov, 08; A day after Mumbai was jolted by the attacks. The commandos were still hard put to evacuate the hotels and wipe out the terrorists. I was on vacation with my four friends. We were staying in the Oberoi hotel. We were in our room when we heard the severe blasts. We were terrified; unable to think; choked. Room service came and told us to lock our rooms from inside. The first time we felt the dread of being in mortal danger.</span></p><p>
</p><p><span lang="EN-US">One of my friends quipped, "<i>abhi toh hum kunware hain</i>" but seriously everyone of us was shuddered from stem to stern; desperate to move out of that place. Then we started praying to Almighty, beseeching to save our lives.</span></p><p>
</p><p><span lang="EN-US">22 hours later two commandos came and rescued us from our despair, and at this point of time my nightmare was over. I was breathing stertorously, sweating profusely and I said "THANK GOD!<span> </span>IT WAS ONLY A DREAM, AFTER ALL" and went back to sleep.</span></p></span>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-87375359805028646882009-01-11T19:25:00.000+05:302009-01-11T19:28:39.553+05:30LOVE IS BLIND - AIN'T THAT MORE THAN JUST A CLICHE?<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I remember vividly, that it was a month and a half back, that I was preparing for my semesters.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p><br /> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">TIME: 11:05PM<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The next morning I had my paper and I had still left two chapters untouched. I was a little stressed, but was confident enough to complete the syllabus. As I was frisking through my notes, I heard some noises. At first I tried to evade the disturbance, but after a while the cacophony became loud enough to distract me. I could hear "KHOL….KHOL….KHOL". I understood our neighbors were quarreling, which they usually do atleast two times in a week. So there was no point lending an ear to such conventionality.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">TIME: 12:10AM<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I heard a police horn and it blew louder and louder and went static at its peak. I could make out the police van was right in front of our house. It was enough to drive me crazy and I couldn't resist myself from peeking through my window. What I saw was two policemen had held the husband by his collar and put him in the jeep. What had happened was that the drunken husband came home and was back with his usual business. He began to beat her wife. But this time she was smart enough to dodge him and lock herself in one of the rooms and called the police. People came out of their homes. Imagine, amidst the night people are ready to sacrifice their sleeps just to get a glance of what is happening in others life. I thought this is it. Finally the Indian woman has broken the shackles of society and come out. Now, this time she won't spare him. I was back with my studies.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The next day my paper went on fine. I came back from college and what I see is the husband and wife are having tea and having a nice time together in the verandah. I was amazed how quickly the things settled and then I was reminded of the adage "LOVE IS BLIND."<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">After that day she called police on two more ocassions, but it is still was not enough for the husband to hit the tracks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-85661968855763308372009-01-04T16:49:00.007+05:302009-01-04T23:02:38.545+05:30HOSPITAL VISITExactly two and a half years ago, I was admitted to the hospital for my appendix operation. I used to get stomach aches at least once in a fortnight for the past 5 years, but the reports never showed anything. It was July 4,2006; I was dying of stomach pain. My father took me to the Sarvodya Hospital. This time the pain was so severe that it was screaming out loud "THE APPENDIX WILL KILL YOU" - and by chance, the doctors heard it too. They suggested a surgery, and my father took the date July 5. Next day, I was all set for the operation.
<br />
First of all, a male nurse removed all my hair (chest, stomach and also the ummm....). CLEAN SHAVE!!! I asked him why in the world did he have to do that for! But u know na, these doctors never empathize with the patients (they are trained like that only.) I was taken to the operation theatre at 9:00AM. After that I don't remember anything and 3 hrs later I woke up in my bed.
<br />
With syringes and glucose bottles continuously penetrating in my veins and no food, no water for the 1st day, there was hardly any respite for me. But there was one thing which kept me breathing - A nurse (female this time), as pretty as could be. She was on duty in my block only. As soon as I saw her, all my pain melted away (ain't that a perfect analgesic?) and she warmed the cockles of my heart. Whenever she used to pass by me, she threw me a cute smile. She would always ask me " DARD HO RAHA HAI??" and I would always answer " THODA SA". There was a certain warmth in her grip and her touch that had a personal feel.
<br />
After 2 days, I was discharged and was quite happy and I still remember that face………that face which brought a smile to me when I was suffering from severe pain.Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-5467535958333701602008-12-21T22:56:00.011+05:302009-01-05T20:03:11.356+05:30ME: THE CULPRIT<span style="line-height: 115%;">It was the 2nd week of our 2nd semester. We had the subject engg. drawing. The teacher had asked us to bring all the instruments required including the drawing board(24"*16"). As usual with the most sincerity I was there with all the things. My drawing lectures were 5,6,7,8. But before that something happened that caused me more than just a bunch of excited nerves! It's not everyday, that one falls in trouble, you see.
<br />
It was the end of the 3rd lecture and before the next teacher came, two boys started fighting. I was sitting at the front seat and I had kept my board at the back of the class due to inadequate space. Then, one of the boys picked up my drawing board and flung it toward the other person. The latter was smart enough to dodge in time and my board fell on the floor with an unpleasant THAK!. I had already inscribed my name at the back of it, so everybody knew it was mine. I went back and lifted the board and guess what a, BIG CRACK in the middle of it. It really hurt me. The brand new board which I bought a day before for 300 bucks was of no use. Fuck man!!. I knew who had done this as everyone was telling me except him.
<br />
The 1st time in my life I couldn't control my rage. As I began to accost him, I came across a wooden disc in the aisle. Let me tell you, what's the purpose of this wooden disc in the middle of our class. It is the upper part of the stool on which we sit. And our college management hardly takes care of the broken infrastructure. So, I thought why not to scare him by this disc. I picked up the disc and pretended to hit him, and thereby irritate him a little. But by mistake, it actually slipped from my hand and like a perfect Lord Krishna unleashing his chakra to kill his enemies, it was bang on target. He just got aside in the nick of the time and saved both our asses! But it only partially saved me because the disc went on to the window glass and the glass broke into crystals. It was followed my huh hah,,,,haw,haw,haw……. Which students generally do after someone commit a mistake.
<br />
For 30 sec I was there standing, trying to digest the fact that I have broken the glass of our class-room. No, No, I cant do this…. I was in the limelight for the first time in my life for this damned thing (shit). I was not punished for this because ours is a govt. college, so like any other govt. office the administration hardly bothers about that.
<br />
At the end of the day I was relieved that the person didn't get hurt. And I still get the nightmares about its consequences. And yeah, now I have some reputation in my class of a macho-man (though I don’t look like that at all). Now, after almost 2 yrs, I am sitting here and writing this real story of mine with amusement, but yeah, at that point of time I got the goose-bumps.
</span>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4611097073553968840.post-34078694909514075502008-12-06T18:19:00.002+05:302008-12-06T20:40:32.212+05:30ONE NIGHT AT THE DISCO<div align="justify">How can I forget that night... followed by my best day of my life. I had been offered a job in Maruti Suzuki Co. which had come to recruit in our college for the first time - I was on top of the world! I decided to enjoy the day to the fullest. I called Amit and Rohit who were also placed in the same company, and we decided to meet at Richi-Rich Disco at 10:00 pm. As for me, it was the first time... and I was stunned by the ambience. Such loud music that my ear-drums almost went phat! Couples were dancing on the floor like anything. All of them were drunk way beyond what you'd call moderate levels, which I could make out easily, as they were almost falling over each other. Girls were in mini-skirts and I couldn't stop myself from staring at them!
</div><div align="justify">After half an hour or so, my friend asked if would like to drink, or like every other occasion - just gulp down a bottle of Sprite. I had already planned that this time I would rather not tee-toal. So I took VODKA. It was pathetic. Though I didn't seem that way, simply because I was a strong man and had to show that I could handle it easily. Even as I took my last sip, my head started paining. Soon it went round and round and round in my head. I didn't know what was happening. I had lost all my senses.
</div><div align="justify">At first I began to laugh madly. After that I began to shout at everyone around me. My friends accompanied me to the vacant table. I started revealing my secrets. I had just broken up wid my gf a couple of weeks ago. I had a serious crush on Rohit's gf. But I forgot that he was sitting right in front of me. I told Amit that Nisha(rohit's gf) was too hot and I thought that she also liked me... Amit tried to control Rohit because I had already lost all my head(so why to bother to bring me back to senses!). As Rohit heard every word of mine, he drunk a full pack of bear in one go. Then it was Amit's turn. I held Rohit's hand and put my other arm on his shoulder and said that "yaar, yeh Amit's mom is too pakaau." Amit lives 2 houses next to mine. His mother is always interfering in our house-hold affairs. "kamini." Amit's face became red like a tomato and he threw a glass of water on my face. For me that was not enough. I was still in my own world. I went to Rohit and asked if I had said something wrong. He himself went out of control and pushed me with a force stong enough to unbalance my shaky legs. I fell on something which I don't remember, but it hurt me enough to drive some sense into my head. I understood I had said something wrong. I wanted to ask both of them, but decided to keep mum as it would have aggravated the situation.
</div><div align="justify">Today(9 months later), I am still afraid to get drunk. Though that incident wasn't enough to stop our troika. Chuckles!!! We're still great friends. But yeah! this night will stay clear in my memory for many years to come!</div>Mohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04062967933049013389noreply@blogger.com13