Of Sensibilty, Serendipity and a Singular Serenity

Yes, evidently I have a thing for alliterations.

Bas yeh tamanna hai, dil jo apna hai, usko mil jao tum

Ab na khayalon mein, na sawaalon mein, baahon mein aao tum

---

Kal kisne dekha hai, kya bharosa hai, reh na jaaye gile

Yahi ibtadah bhi hai, iltajah bhi hai, hai mohabbat bhi yeh

- Mohit Chauhan, Aankhon hi aankhon mein

I have thought of you and I think of you every single day. I'd love to simply pull a plug and let you out of my mind, so that I have some space that I can use for other things.

Not better things.. Just, other things.

I talk to you when I'm alone, often just speaking your name, just to hear the way it sounds. I don't have (m)any memories, or even a picture. None that are mine anyway. Except the 10-year old one.

1/29/12, 3:09:53 AM: Bubbles: If we ever fight seriously we might end up not speaking at all you know..

I can't recall ever having stayed awake until 6AM! And I don't recall ever having an outright fight, I do not think we've had that. But we're here. And I am not liking it. The "affectionate" is a thing of the past. A past incredibly hard to let go of, because it is hard to let someone go when you are not sure how you feel about them.

1/20/12, 8:36:31 AM: Bubbles: I don't like you

I don't blame you. Really. I don't like me much either. But I am all I've got. Not that that's any justification, though. I think both of us are inordinately hard-headed, maybe egotistic, or just too alike, to be capable of having a normal, passably civil conversation..

1/29/12, 5:42:22 AM: Bubbles: Nor do I like fighting with you, we're excessively polite and thank each other way too much!

And when we are mean, we do go the whole hog. It's not just snapping at the ankles, it gets really, really caustic. But during times of peace, I'm unable to think of a single thing to talk with you about. It gets weird way too soon.

Plus the toneless "If you say so" etc, really aren't much of an incentive to make an attempt at conversation.

1/29/12, 5:36:18 AM: Bubbles: Plus a couple of more fights like the one we had today and I know I'll just delete that app from my phone

And it looks like you have.. When you were the one who got me hooked to it.. And I miss you.. And I remember how I was when you last asked if I wanted to play.. And I am sorry..

1/24/12, 5:24:53 PM: Bubbles: So you asked and I told you. Was that so hard? And if I'm angry with you, trust me, you'll know

Sigh.. I still don't. Are you?

1/29/12, 12:27:24 AM: Bubbles: I was mean to you today

True. But I earned every dollop of it. You were at the receiving end of my bipolar dysphoric disorder!

1/29/12, 2:15:20 PM: Bubbles: Apparently sulking all day gives us a lot of things to talk about

Yes, apparently it does!

1/28/12, 7:37:58 PM: Bubbles: God! We're a pair!

Yeah, well.. That we are..!

1/28/12, 11:25:52 PM: Bubbles: I'm not smiling at you

That, I know. But you still owe me a dance.

1/29/12, 1:33:03 AM: Bubbles: But all relationships change over time

For me, nothing has changed from the two weeks, two years ago.

1/29/12, 3:36:40 AM: Bubbles: All you had to do was message

I'm still working my way up to that. And it's all you have to do too. The fidgety, impatient, grumpy goob that I am, I cannot stop checking my cellphone every 5 minutes. And that's when it's on ringer. Imagine when it's on silent. For maybe, a message that says you did 'mish' me too. The talking maybe, or the arguing, or the inane bantering. Or correcting your English, and hating it when you correct mine. Just so that I can reach that place in my head, where I can see the inevitable, exasperated smile. And hear the inevitable 'softie' that I remember. And pretend to hate it. Where I'd know that it was me you were looking for. Where my jaw would ache from grinning so much, because you laughed that rare wide-mouthed open laugh. Where my laugh would be my own.

The smile is yours, the flutter is mine

The dreams are yours, the prayers are mine

In everything that you do, in everything I don't

The pictures are yours, the memories are mine

They say it’s true

That some dreams are meant to leave, along with those we look up to

But I wasn’t the one who made up these rules, you know

If only I didn’t have to go…

And I know it’s not safe to go alone

But alone is how I have always gone

If only You’d come along…

If only You’d come along…

Maybe, it's not the heights we dread, it's the fall.

Maybe, it's not the dark we're scared of, it's what's in it.

Maybe, we are afraid to care too much, for fear the other person does not care at all.

Maybe, we don't know how much we can take really, and maybe we really don't want to find out either.

Some of us want to be accepted without allowing ourselves to be known. We are afraid that we won't be accepted if we are truly known.

Beyond wrong, beyond right

Beyond fear, beyond flight

Beyond the light, beyond the night

Cobblestones and oceans, a painter's delight

I'll see you there

I'm wondering where you are right now, and I'm wondering what you are doing right now. I'm still waiting for your message, by the way. It's late, it's really late.

I'm still waiting.

Propriety Warfare

Text in pink has been used to depict errors made by the protagonists that are the pillars of this post, or deliberate errors, intended to be a mockery, by the narrator. In no way, should these be construed as grammar gaffes by the author, since he is, let's face it, mind-blasting!

In recent times, the most compelling example I could use to convince people that correct English is of significant value, would be an email sent by a head honcho, of the organization I work for, to a bunch of clients, with our team in CC. And the sentence which must have made a remarkable impact:

"This application release is of great impotence to us."

I'd seen mails earlier, where this person characteristically spells the word, important, as "importent", and on this exemplary occasion, MS-WORD must have simply auto-"corrected" the (apparently unimportant) 'r'.

I had always presumed that English would be the logical choice of communication at work, given that you'd be working with people who do not necessarily speak the language of the place that you hail from. I've been accustomed to using English for quite a while now, and I'm given to thinking in English too, and subsequently, if need be, convert it to another language.

In college, I must admit, I was initially unprepared for my Internal Combustion Engines lab staff telling me "Thambi, anthu machine on panittu, lever thirambu, appram reading edthuko, athikku appram calculations panni, foo-yel level eppidi decrease aakuven sollikkudu". Don't ask me for a translation, I can only tell you that "foo-yel" was supposed to be "fuel".

The only advantage was that after four years of this, I actually did pick up a smidgen of Tamil and Malayalam. Yes, Malayalam is my mother tongue, and I'm not even remotely fluent at it, and you can go ahead and say "Malayali aayittu Malayalam arriyithilla" in the derogatory tone, I've heard that enough from the snooty Malayalis, to develop an acquired immunity to it, and I really don't care!

However, work was going to be different, it had to be, this was IT after all!

Project conference call with onsite and offshore teams - "Ante August lo enhancement cheppisthinaara, athi ella cheyaalo process cheppu". Epic Fail!

And thus began an unscheduled education in yet another language.

But onsite, Amreeka, the big U, and the S, and the A, here it's got be English, and only English, and nothing but the good correct English!

Here go some of the gems I have experienced here :-

A Lead to a Mexican guy - "Arre woh Sterling mein order daal ke dekho, hota hai ki nahi, phir usme kuch appeasement bhi de do". Yes, I'm sure he understood.

A Lead to a Tamil guy, whose knowledge of Hindi is limited to "Dil toh pagal ghe" and "Jab tak ghe jaan" - "Arre yeh return ka kaunsa table mein jaata hai aur journal kaise update hota hai, tumko pata hai kya, thoda bata ke do isko" - Charming, amazing, Kuch kuch hota ghe!

Team discussion involving one Mexican and the rest Telugu colleagues - "oka .com order RDC nundi source ayi dani transfer order fail ayela place chey" - Brilliant, superb, Oka laila kosam kavaaliye!

Team discussion involving one Indian and rest Mexican coworkers - "Puedes poner una Delivery orden, despues la pones como Exception y le haces reship. Necesitamos checar las transacciones generadas." - Yes, absolutely, tu eres culito!

To an employee giving notice - "are U aware of that you belongs to India?" - Was she paid for or was it an ancestral inheritance?

"do the KT" - 'Doing' a KT is wrong on more than one level!

"He wantedly messed up the program." - My ears bleed! Try 'deliberately' or 'intentionally'; 'wantedly' is not even a word!

Email sent to an environment support team - Yesterday, I have sent an email to the team  and requested about the anyone have physical cards. However no one reply me back on this request, only Musa have 2 cards (Discover \Visa French).

I think someone have Debit cards.

I also see regular instances of "loosing revenue" and "are we is getting the environment available today", and I'm done with the examples because I cannot claw at my eyes any more.

I'm not saying your English has to be of the Rajdeep Sardesai or Karan Thapar finesse, but is basic grammar and sentence construction too much to ask for? And if you say that I must have had an Oxford education, for the record, I was born and brought up in Bihar, I had the same educational opportunities as most of my contemporaries, and I still am better at English than many of them put together, and you can blame my mom and her subscription to Readers' Digest, and a love for reading that culminated from that and Enid Blyton in the school library.

At the very least, if you make an effort to be considerate to others and attempt to restrict yourself to a common language, with time, your ability and grasp of the language does get better. And in mixed company, sticking to English ensures no one gets alienated (I've had front row seats for this!). Plus a good command of the language helps with the ladies too. Ask Katrina Kaif, Deepika Padukone, Gal Gadot or Barbara Mori ;) I know, I know, please come in an orderly fashion for autographs and memorabilia.

Not being infallible (yet), I'm prone to mistakes too, but those are more often due to a lack of focus than neglect of the language. Every once in a while, I misspell 'occassion' and 'occurence', forgetting momentarily whether it's two c's or two s's, and where there are two r's! Until a couple of years ago, I used to regularly mix up the usage of "its" and "it's". Periodically, I still use "whose", when the required term is "who's". Sometimes, I'm not even sure of the correct word or pronunciation. For instance, the examples given here are intentionally mis-spelt, or is it mis-spelled? And are "direction" and "dimension" pronounced with a "di-" as in "die", or a "dee-" as in "dim"?

But whatever I draft, I do give it multiple reads, until I'm sure that it's all correct, to the extent of my knowledge, and only then does that missive see the light of the day.

Then again, there are those with the disfigured definition of decorum. What sets these apart are not the grammatically hideous sentences or typographical errors, but the big-foot-in-bigger-mouth syndrome.

For instance, during a break in a particularly long requirements meeting with business associates, talk veers round to family. A manager asks one of the ladies about her kids, and she mentions she has two daughters. The bloke's response - "Haha, I'm very lucky, I have two sons!" And he continues to chuckle, (unsurprisingly) oblivious to the stunned silence. Watch how I turn a 2-syllable word into a 6-syllable one - Re-e-e-e-e-ally?

If you think it is tough to top the brazen ignominy of that indiscretion, think again. There are some who wear their profession, and in some particularly unusual (unusual, because I do not have a more appropriate word) cases, their religion on their sleeve. How often do you meet someone in the gym, who'd walk up to you and say "Hi, I'm Sean, and I'm a doctor." Maybe not so out-of-place for a complete stranger, you say? I'll accept that. How about someone who stands up in a workplace meeting, with participants from multiple ethnicities, and says, "Hi, my name is omitted-for-obvious-reasons, and I'm Hindu and a Green Card holder."? Now apart from his name, someone please tell me which of the other two facts were relevant. Or was he looking for lavish attention and a gold star?

I'm not sure if such proffered pieces of information qualify as small talk, or if they are a verbal punch to the personal choices of those whom the information is being proffered to. Or is it that this display of going nuts over your faith or your residential status is an exuberant outpouring of your enthusiasm? I'm not saying you should not be excited about it, but when you use it as an introduction, what kind of message are you portraying?

It's said that your faith, and/or what you work at, is what defines you? How could your profession or your religion possibly give an accurate insight into what you are as a person? You could be Einstein, and it is still possible for you to be an asshole. You could be proficient with dozens of programming languages and software, and yet be an absolute nightmare to work with. You could be Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Zionist, and it still means nothing other than the name of a practice that you have decided to follow. Saying that you are an atheist, doesn't say anything about you, apart from the fact that you don't go to church or sing Jesus songs.

I'm a Malayali Christian, and I've met some of the most obnoxious, bigoted, ignorant, self-righteous, asinine and prejudiced people that are Malayali Christians. I've also met people who don't believe in God or religion, and some of these are the nicest, loving, friendly, open and warm people that I have known. One could argue semantics saying truly devout Christians are patient and merciful and blah blah blah, but going through the motions of a faith does not morph a sleeping coyote into a koala bear.

Blurting out stuff without careful forethought is not something I'm new to; the silliest being a quip about the iPhone being narcissistic that was a spur-of-the-moment thing (questions or comments on said anecdote are taboo here), and the most brash being an outburst during a meeting where a person who habitually comes in to work late was giving a speech, extolling the virtues of being punctual.

Do I regret the outburst? No.
It is plain hypocrisy to be preaching something you have absolutely no intention of practicing. And what does it say about your work ethic when you waddle in at 10:30AM, run away at 5PM, bill the client for 9 hours, and all that you do in the space of the day is check out the latest deals on electronics and holiday packages?
Plus there is something deeply disconcerting about being the only one present at a table of sixteen, on a work day morning, having to endure the disapproving glances of client counterparts who do come in on time.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to the living, dead or soon-to-be-dead is purely coincidental.. Or just poorly covered up...

Hi, I'm Eby, and I'm human. "Regretably".

The cynic way of life

Cynics are not born; they are made. Introverts are the other way.

Cynicism is not a fork in the road; it's a lifestyle.
The cynic is, more often than not, an introvert. By choice and by nature. And not necessarily in that order.
Note - Does not imply that all introverts are cynics. That's only a privileged few.

Cynics are not negative, they are not pessimists. They are merely not overtly optimistic. A cynic simply does not believe in being a naive bubble-headed daydreamer, walking around vomitting sunshine. There is a subliminal subtlety involved.

For eg, a cynic can be really passionate about dance. Said cynic might be really good at it too. And he dances frequently, if only at 3:30AM in his room. Or breaks into a jig when he's in an unnaturally good mood (unnatural for others, not for him).

But no, he does not dance at clubs, because he does not believe that grinding groins, posteriors and everything-in-between qualifies as dance. Then again, he might not get too many invites from the ladies to dance, not being the last word in sartorial elegance. Not that he resembles a botched botox job, though.

And no, he does not dance at parties, where everyone save him are piss-drunk. And further to that, he does not relish people pulling him onto the floor, yelling "Come on man, DANCE man, teach us some steps man!!". The inevitable hand gesture made at this point is an atypically kind request to go violate yourselves.

Yes, the references used are obvious ones.

Cynics are not mad, depressed or antisocial. Well, antisocial, maybe. Introverts are commonly misunderstood, only the cynic delights in it.

Introverts are not anyone's good deed for the day. Introverts do not need you to get them into the "elite" social circles.
Introverts are not friend/father/brother/husband/son substitutes. They aren't bodyguards, chauffeurs or perennial agony aunts.
Introverts are not free GMAT essay reviewers.
Introverts are not please-like-my-page-I-need-your-support friends.
Introverts are not someone to go ooh and aah over your kid's pic. Some of the cynical ones don't even like kids. These, in particular, don't care and don't want to.
Introverts are a little more than a number, an email address and a facebook page.

Conversations with cynics deserve a special mention. Cynics do prefer keeping to themselves, but they are not, I repeat, not, I repeat yet again, not averse to conversations. However, the following "parts of speech" do not qualify as conversation:
1. "hmmmm.."
2. "k.."
3. "whatever.."
4. "What else?"
5. "LOL" (spelt U-G-H)
6. "ROFL" (spelt G-A-H)
7. "Y 2 thnk dey dd tat wen v hd nt pd d muny?" (What the!)

When you have nothing to say, it is okay to not converse. Simply prolonging it with "Aur kya" (What else) and "Aur kya chal raha hai" (What is happening) just makes the silence more awkward than it needs to be. That applies to phone calls, video conferences, text messages, all ubiquitous forms of multilogue, including comments on social networks. When a just married martyr, puts up a couple pic, or recent parents put up a pic of their newborn, it is okay to just hit "like", instead of going overboard with "Aww, such a sweetu couple", "You both look so good together", "Made for each other", "Rab ne bana di ghodi", "So cuuuuute", "Oyeleee", while Patience's mummy, daddy and grandaddy roll over and squirm uncomfortably in their grave.

SMS lingo can never be spoken of, unless "Kill me, kill me now" forms a part of the same breath. When text messaging, you are saving space, as you squish more info into 160 characters, but what could you possibly be hoping to achieve when you use it in emails, communicator windows and regular conversations? N un4tun8 10denC dat -es d dxnre n d glsre (In regular english - An unfortunate tendency that negates the dictionary and the glossary - an actual statement from a next-gen cousin).

Cynics are not nice; at the very least, they do not want to be. They aren't shrewd or calculative either, since that requires too much work and a single-minded focus. Cynics are just plain indifferent.

Some day, I'm going to be killed in my bed. Or in prison. Or my mind will eventually turn on itself, and on me, with a vehemence it wasn't aware that it possessed, and leave an impression of its knuckles on my skull.
Cynicism may not be the healthiest of choices. But then, it comes down to what helps you sleep at night. Whether it's a strong sense of denial, or the fact that you like someone enough to not want to inflict yourself on them.

Bubbles

I'm not sure, if this is me talking to you, or me talking to me.. Lately, I've had trouble finding that line, let alone drawing it.
Parallel storytelling.. Well not storytelling, per se, just snippets of two personas, very different, yet intricately connected, or maybe not at all..

Random song lyrics

An unsung threnody

Scintillating conversations to look forward to

Lame repetitive mono(tonous)logues

The promise of rain - sweet, refreshing, endearing; When it's coming, one knows not

Cloudy days, overcast skies; Anger and jealousy seething under the surface, stoked by the vile hands of fear

Confusion, contradiction, a constant consternation
Thunder, lightning, fire, electricity; Powerful

A hurricane, of doubts and fears; Devastating, punishing

A black hole, all-consuming; Famished, yearning, needing

Quiet, unassuming, a mask, the silence of honey eyes

Arrogant, snappy, resentful just because you hate that you miss someone

Trust, uncertainty; So much left to luck, or the roiling whims of fate

Fear that chokes, thoughts tumble, words do not come, sentences left incomplete

Thoughtful; stripped of walls, of pretenses
Genuine, candid, real

..Coherent sentences strung together, verbose wordsmith-y, a panorama of sarcasm and drudgery
!Epic fail

Pictures, where once was laughter

Dust, where once were sandcastles

Blue, white, baby-pink; Elusive, mystical, gorgeous

Endless expanse of grey; enough said

Everything, and nothing

Yet human, imperfect and flawed

.Me

Mine. Or atleast, was, for a little while.

"We each have a place where we are meant to be. This is mine."
Someday, perhaps, I will say that as confidently too. For now, there is the darkness in front of me, the sun at my back, and the curves of the road in my sight.. For now, I am good. Or as I ever will be.

Turning 30

Yes, I'm 30... On a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is the most awesome you can be, *I* am a 30. You're welcome.

Since graduation (2005), I've been spending a lot of time fighting the Folks on the malignant malice, that is as conducive to a happy life as a bull is to a bone china emporium. Come to think of it, it even begins and ends with the same letters as the word 'Malice'. It is also a taboo term on this blog (and in my life, in general), hence I'll bestow upon it the title "U-No-Poo - the constipation sensation that is gripping the nation."

But I digress..

So, of course, the Folks had to bring this up when I reached the momentous (I suppose..) tri-decade milestone. And, of course, it had to turn into a spectacular waterworks display as well. And why? Because I can't live the rest of my life being shunned by a society that is more into appearances than honesty? Because life is less about living the way you want to and more about compromising your choices to keep everyone happy?

Compromises, yes. Suicidal ones, might want to think again. I’m obligated to a lot of people but not at the cost of my (or someone else’s) sanity.

If I was a perennially obedient son, maybe I too would have married some really sweet docile home-birdie that my parents picked out for me.

My parents would be happy, the church, that stupid Kerala Samajam back home, everyone would be happy thinking “Yes, Eby did the right thing, he married within the community, within his religion, conforming to all the rules of society that was set up by a bunch of hypocritical old farts.”

But iron WOULD enter my hitherto kind soul and I would absolutely detest having to live by someone else’s rules. And being the submissive son and member of “society” that I would be, all that wrath inside me would pour itself out on that innocent blameless girl who had the misfortune to be married to me.

I have a conscience, one that would not let me live with the fact that I sentenced some unwitting girl to a lifetime of that. Forget society, even to please my parents, nothing gives me the right to take away that girl’s right to a chance at happiness.

Galatians 6:4 - "You should each judge your own conduct. If it is good, then you can be proud of what you yourself have done, without having to compare it with what someone else has done."

"Everyone else is doing it" is not a good enough reason. Just isn't. If my peers from school decide to take the plunge, that is their call, their own choice. That is no grounds for me having to do the same. And tying the knot simply because a particular community or a religion advocates it, is just plain absurd.

Religion, ironically, may send more people to hell than anything else. Religion, ostensibly, is Man's quest/adoration for a Supreme Being, or God. But today, religion is more about ridiculous rules and rituals than about people. And since when is God more about rules than people? Alright I have no clue about the rest, but isn't Christianity purported to be about God's attempt to reconcile with an exceedingly wayward mankind?

And what is the point of being the 'socially-accepted' religious kind if you are zero on faith? The New Testament says in as many words, that you cannot "earn" your way into heaven, it is just faith and His grace that get you through. Or are you the kind that starts having doubts about what you believe in, after reading something like The DaVinci Code? Is that all your faith is? Pot, kettle, black, anyone?

Sidenote: I don't intend this to come out wrong, I loved The DaVinci Code, I have read it multiple times, and I bear absolutely no ill-will towards Dan Brown. The book, the content, the allegations, made absolutely no impact on what I believe in. And I am a God person, though not (never!) a church person.

Knowing me, even if I was stuck in a marriage that I didn't want to begin with, I probably wouldn't turn into the animal I spoke about earlier. Being mean is too much effort. But regardless, I still wouldn't want to be a nice guy. Two reasons :-

A) It is cliched. Beyond belief. Period. It is immensely cliched, so much that cliches go hang themselves at the cliche. Yes, the point of the "Period" has been compromised and I have resorted to yet another cliche, but I blame that on the cliche. And this is milder of the two reasons, since this is just from the logophile/sequipedalian in me.

B) The second reason is a lot more carnal (where "carnal" is not to be taken in its visceral sense). Nice guys don't get laid. Yet another "period". Like teddy bears. You wouldn't want to be one. Teddy bears get the "oooh"s, the "aaah"s and the "awww"s, and then they are picked up and stowed in the dark corner at the topmost shelf of the unused closet. Nice guys don't get where they intend to. They are dropped on the sidewalk, like used tissue. Nice guys are befriended for what they are good at, and when the usefulness peters out, attitudes revert, almost unbelievably instantly, to who-are-you-and-why-the-hell-are-you-in-my-breathing-space.

If I was that good, I wouldn't be where I am right now.. I'd have someone to interlace fingers with while driving, I'd have someone's hands ruffling the hair at the back of my head for no reason, I'd have someone who'd snuggle up to me when they were cold, I'd have someone whose hair I could nuzzle and inhale from, hell, I'd have someone to just hug and sleep, when I wake up umpteen times in the nights..

Like butterscotch ice-cream with crushed cashew nuts..

Like the morning of your birthday (even if you are turning 30!)..

Like a long drive through wintry valleys and fall colours..

You say I'm cynical. Yes, I sure am. But cynicism didn't just plop into my head on a fine Sunday morning. Cynicism was brewed from a lifetime of meeting people, the likes of whom I've talked about here, on this space.

I won't say that I am unaffected when I see others together. I do get that slight twinge of envy. That wistfulness when I think of someone. But at the end of the day, there is a sense of responsibility, an emotional maturity that I do not possess, so I'm okay knowing I'm exactly where I'm meant to be, where He meant me to be..

I'd agree with JD, I can't say for sure, but maybe people aren't meant to be by themselves. Maybe if you actually find someone you care about, it's important that you let go of the little things. Even if you can't let go all the way. It's true, nothing sucks more than being all alone, no matter how many people are around. Believe me, I know that first-hand! And maybe, in part, it is comforting to know that, while I'm sitting at home, staring at this screen, just wishing that I had someone to sit quietly by, none of the idiots who have someone out there realize how lucky they are.

30 is the new 20. Amen.

Now, gym.