Showing posts with label down the memory lane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label down the memory lane. Show all posts

A letter to my just born son...

Hi baby, 


This is the first time I am calling a boy - baby. Seems kinda weird to be very honest. I wrote a letter to both your akkas - Pranaya (read here) & Aainee (read here) when they were born. And I knew I had to write one for you. 


I am writing this as your mom is getting ready to bring you in the world - this process, which I have been witness to 2 times already scares me, and makes me respect your amma even more - but scares me for the most part, like if she can take that amount of pain, she can kick my butt if shit ever went down. 


We have been ready for a long time for you, son. When I was growing up, pretty early I knew I wanted a son - someone to share the life with, someone to teach all the guy things one a man learns over time - things about women, wine, beer, bread, work, purpose of life, did I mention women? I think all men start out wanting sons, I always thought daughters would be a lot of work (this part is not true) & you have to constantly look out for them (this part is true) - but the part that I didnt realize is how beautiful my life would get with two daughters.


A friend once asked what is the test of the fact that you are in love - I said if you happen to think about someone more than 17 times a day, you are in love! (Tune in to my daily gyaan sessions on youtube). I think about Pranaya & Aainee a lot more times than that every day. One day you will fall in love with a woman and feel love cant get deeper than that, wait till you have daughters - that love is something different. 


I am lucky to have such amazing women in my life - I am using the word "women" for Pranaya and Aainee coz thats what they are - you should see how they talk! Pranaya is a lot like me, it's like living my childhood again through her - in that sense, she is lucky too - to have a parent who completely understands how she's wired and understand the things that pain her or bring her joy. Aainee, we are still trying to figure out where her source code comes from! She is nothing like any of us, not like the parents, or grandparents or her sister - she is the spice in our very low sodium lives. 


Your sisters are flowers. There are times when I am looking at them paint, or make something with clay and they look at me, my heart skips a beat - it's different from how one falls in love with a woman, but still same same. Do you understand? See? How this letter has become about them?


The other day someone asked me what does it take to be a good father? <Start of gyaan sesh> I said two things  - Indulgence & sacrifice. Indulgence is getting to understand them, involve them in your world, get involved in theirs, be less grown up and more growing up - with them. Sacrifice is the easy bit, it is automatic and doesnt even feel like a sacrifice at the time. <End of gyaan sesh>





It is 6 am on a slightly chilly Dubai morning. You came into the world crying and punching arms to the background of "Eye of the Tiger" (in my head). 


I am writing this after you have arrived in our lives -  all pink (& for some reason angry, like an Irishman). I can't tell you how happy I am, son, that you are here - one very important reason is of course, now the attention of your amma & akkas will get diverted to your misdoings and I will be free to do as I like (or at least that's how it is in my head). Also, I didnt want one more girl come into my family and tell me how I do things wrong - the women lobby in the house is strong as it is (this is also why I call your akkas "women").


I was the first Chaudhary son in my generation and you are the first in yours. Men like us have a great responsibility. For years the Chaudhary name has stood for sacrifice, hard work, leadership & an inexplicable charm - all Chaudharys have it - both your akkas (esp the smaller one) have it. I have it (obviously), how else do you think I got your amma to marry me? You, my son, have a responsibility towards that name.


I am writing this now because when you are 14, I will be 50 & you might think I am not as cool as I used to be. Then you will turn 21 & realize I am cool again & it is amazing how I have changed in 7 years. Jokes apart, I am writing to tell you that I might not be always right about everything. My understanding of the world is mine, it is coloured by my experiences of the world. I might, in my good natured naivety, feel that something you want to do is wrong - be kind to me & remember that your father is also bound to errors.


The men from my father's generation were the last who got to be men. The men in my generation have had it slightly tougher (because no wet towels allowed on the bed), for your generation it might be even more. Some men have it easier than others, some are born into wealth others have influential parents, things that are not in your control and their is no sense feeling jealous about it or worrying about it. Kids born in the most expensive of hospitals, in temperature controlled delivery rooms cry when they are born & so do the ones who are born in poor neighbourhood in the heat & dust. The lives we are given always seem more difficult than they are. If you think something is not right, go ahead and make it right.


Then there will be times in life when it will seem that you made a choice, a bet that didnt pay off. In times like these you might doubt yourself - To that I tell you, forget what the world is telling you - what magazines tell you or what the newspaper tells you - these are just words on a paper - they dont mean anything till you give them meaning. Forget what your friends are telling you, they have seen only as much of life as you, they dont know more, or better.  


My advice to you son, for times like this is - Do whatever feels right to do. And do not what doesnt. 


This advice applies, not to everyone but a few - it is applicable to those men only who are made right by the creator, coder, if you like - and you are the very best he created. I know it, and if you ever doubt it, read this letter again - I hope it gives you confidence and helps you become an even better man.


I wish you all the happiness & joy. I wish for you a courageous heart & hope that you find love in this world. Love, courage, happiness & hope in your heart, my child, will lead you a long way. 


Lovingly, 


Daddy


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Diaper Rash cream song

This is a guest post by my daughter. I first thought what would she know, but then she knows some mean shortcuts. That day she pressed 3 random keys and the display on the laptop got inverted by 180 degrees. She also has shortcuts to delete a file permanently and change the layout of a ppt. So I assumed this super sharp baby should be allowed to share her thoughts with other babies. So here goes -

Hi,

I just turned 9 months old. I was under the impression that I was 18 months old, someone then told me I am not allowed to count the time I spent in my mom's tummy. That sucks. This advice would have sounded sagely coming from a much older baby.

I recommend you hear the original here.


Newborns of 2015,

Wear Diaper Rash cream.

If I could Offer you one tip for the future.... Diaper Rash cream would be IT. The long term benefits of  Diaper Rash cream  have been proved by mothers. Whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own soft bottom. 

I will dispense this advice now 

Refuse to eat whatever is being presented to you.  Eat from Daddy's plate instead. Don't let him eat. remember you are growing up, he's just growing old.

Point at crows, pigeons, stray dogs and make noises like you are challenging them to a fight. When the dog starts walking towards you, get very scared and hide in Daddy's arms. 

Repeat.

Lick mom's cheek whenever she lets her guard down.  

Pick dirty from every nick and corner of the furniture and taste it.

There will be a very small window between changing diapers. Make sure you do potty/susu right then. It requires the concentration of a sage and the stomach muscles of a samurai. Practice will make perfect. 

Dont worry if you miss it by a few seconds, you will get them next time.

Cry.

Wipe runny nose on daddy's shirt when he's not looking. Don't sleep when it is sleepy time. Cry if someone tries to get you to sleep.

Get exercise. This is the only time in your lives when exercise is someone massaging you with oil.

Do.not.let.them.touch.your.head.It's.sacred.

Maybe you crawl, maybe you wont. Maybe you lay there comfortable, maybe you get scared by a balloon. Whatever you do, dont forget you cry you get fed.

Fart.

Play with Daddy's phone. Play with Mommy's phone.

Press random keys while they are working on the laptop. 10 years from now, they wont remember the worksheets you accidentally deleted.

Compel adults to learn to understand your language. Make an effort to understand theirs.

Drool.

Touch everything you arent supposed to. Throw caution to the winds. 

Wake up 3 times a night. 

Put your finger inside daddy's nostril. 

But trust me on the Diaper Rash Cream.






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Diary of a 100 day old baby...



Day 51: Dear diary, what great 50 days it has been. I have got amma lady lunchbox attending me all 160 hours of the day, I don’t really know how many hours there are in a day, I fall asleep a lot, to keep any track of time, you see…

Day 52: Dear Diary, I had my first heartbreak today. I am no more in love with my boyfriend - the fan. We broke up. I asked him where our relationship was heading. He just went on and on in circles. Now that my heart is broken, I don’t think I will find my love again. I am going to cry myself to sleep tonight. (which is something I do every night actually)

Day 53: Diary! I have found the love of my life. He is my new boyfriend - the curtain. He talks to me and tries to reach out to me. I have learnt to coo and all my coos, oohs and aahs will be reserved for my boyfriend – the curtain. XOXO!

Day 54: Daddy Strange guy has been in and out of my life and what he lacks in skill he compensates in his eagerness to please me. All the other people in the house also do their bit. It pleases me to see such a unskilled but willing workforce work for me. 

Day 55: Daddy strange man came today and spent first 42 mins kissing me. Okay, it might be lesser, I have no idea how long a minute is. Who wants to be kissed? I want him to clean my potty. It is not going to clean itself now, is it!

Day 57: My nails are so dirty. I need a manicure. I wanted to put my fingers in my mouth the other day and almost stopped - looking at my dirty nails - But of course, I put it in my mouth anyway coz #YOLO

Day 58: Daddy guy eats my fingers every chance he gets. But he doesn’t allow me to do it. I think he’s being selfish. He wants to eat my fingers all by himself.

Day 60: Something annoying happened last night. My tummy was acting up, you know how it is, with a liquid diet… So I summoned daddy guy’s services and after 1 hour of walking me around the house, he sat down – LIKE ON A CHAIR! In the middle of taking me on the walk! I mean how dare he! I created a ruckus and he got up and started to walk again tiredly. But tell you what he is going to think 10 times the next time he wants to sit even in his office chair. #Likeaboss

Day 62: Went to a new house. Apparently daddy strange guy also had a daddy...and a mommy and a house! I am gonna call them aaji-baba, coz they asked me to. Nice chaps. Welcomed me with garlands and balloons. Why u no do this everyday?

Day 63: Amma lady gave me a manicure today. Good. I am pleased. I am having "fingers" for dessert tonight...

Day 66: Dear diary, you wouldn’t believe what I saw today! These adult humans have a window screen on which you can see people dancing and singing. Then there are car chases and fights and so much fun things. 

Day 69: Do you have those afternoon naps when you wake up and wonder what year it is? That is every nap of my life.

Day 70: Now that I have found the window, I am wondering why do we need daddy guy. I get much needed entertainment from the window screen. The feeding department is taken care by amma lady lunchbox. The caretaking by other ladies in the house. What is really Daddy guy's function in all of this I wonder!

Day 71: Travelled in a car through lots of dark holes in mountains to arrive at Daddy guy's house in Pune. These guys seem pretty well to do yaar, I wouldnt have thought he was much good for anything...

Day 72: Took a huge dump today. Like a nuclear U298 enriched dump. My room now smells like a mix of baby powder, baby lotion and rotten cabbage. #instapotty

Day 73: Diary, these humans have a day and a night! Who knew! I think night is the time to wake up and day is the time to sleep. I might be wrong… Ha! Who am I kidding, I am never wrong! #SWAG.

Day 74: Attended a wedding today, someone Amma lunchbox knows. Totally stole the bride’s thunder. #babymaid

Day 75: Was talking to my boyfriend the curtain and smiling at his flying stories when daddy guy came in the room. By mistake smiled at him. He was very happy. Next time I smile at Daddy will be when I am 13 years old and need a new dress.

Day 78: Something incredible happened today, diary. Some friends of the adult humans had come and they brought with them a BABY! WHAT?  Can you believe it? There are more than one of me? He was very wise and we talked a little and shared notes. He said I should be on my best behavior when adult humans have their friends over and once they are gone we can order them around. I was like – puhleaseee, tell me something I don’t know!

Day 81: Laughed looking at my hand for 15 minutes today. My fingers are so damn funnnnyyyy…

Day 82: Went to the children doctor today. I found more babies there. You know diary, I feel silly now to think tht I was the only baby in the world. Of course, one baby alone cant rule the world like this. We need at least 5-6 babies.

Day 83: Got my first frock today. Aghhh.. About time!! God knows I am tired of those onezies! #fashionista

Day 84: The first few days of my life are a blur. No literally, I couldn’t focus my eyes well. I can focus much better now. Daddy strange guy has a lot more body hair than amma lunchbox. Daddy could never make a chef, they would invariably find at least one hair in every dish. #masterchefbaby

Day 87: Amma lady gives a lot of importance to daddy guy, undeserved of course! They talk to each other for minutes together! Even when my pretty self is right next to them! What is there to talk so much! (Dad: Wait till you reach teenage and I ask you the same thing.)

Day 88: These adult human don’t drink food like I do. They put food in their mouth and gulp it. If I have to point out one reason for babies ruling adults around the world, it has to be their uncouth eating habits!

Day 90: Celeberated my first Vishu at amma lady's place. They call it the new year. What it has been a year already? Seems much less for some reason.

Day 92: Got a injection today. Didn’t cry at all. #fearlessbaby (actually got distracted by the rattle amma lady was rattling)

Day 93: Moushi lady polished me with olive oil. Cried my lungs out. Now I smell like pasta and daddy guy is eating my hand. Go eat some of your uncouth food and gulp it down, DADDY GUY!

Day 95: Daddy guy was making Amma lady laugh. I farted and both of them looked at me and laughed their lungs out. #Lastcomicfarting

Day 97: Diary, it is so hot nowadays. But I don’t like baths. I am in a tough situation here.

Day 98: Slept like a baby last night, which is good coz that’s what I am #funpun

Day 99: I throw a smile or two every now and then at amma lady lunchbox, but not too much lest she get complacent. Very pleased with her work so far. Her life finds meaning  because of my smile. #Oshobaby

Day 100: Dear diary, I completed 100 days. I feel like a successful movie. My life really is a disney movie. I am a princess surrounded by simple folk and the curtain prince. Everybody loves me and I of course take advantage of it. Life is beautiful... Now if you excuse me, I have to watch some window screen.
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Letter to my unborn child...

Dear child,

You will be here in a few days and I feel completely unprepared. I was, what I like to call "baby ready" right out of engineering college. I had begun liking kids and couldnt wait to have my own. I waited 8 years for you to come in my life. And now that you are almost here, I feel completely unprepared.

I have no idea if I would make a good father. I was lucky to have a really great set of parents. They let me take my own decisions, let me make mistakes occasionally, form my own opinions, in short, they let me be, well, me. What else are good parents supposed to do if not this? There is no set Key Result Areas for parents. There are no finishing schools, no second chances (per kid). My parents I think did a good job. And still, there were times when I was really mad at them. Maybe it is a sign of growing up or something. Maybe there comes a time when you realise that for the halo our society creates around one's parents, they are after all human and they are susceptible to mistakes too.

I guess, this is the reason why I am writing to you even before you are born. I hope that when you read this at 13, this letter will be still written by your 29 year old father. And maybe he might be more understanding than your 42 year old father who has salt and pepper hair and who your girlfriends think looks like George Clooney.

I am also writing to apologise in advance. I am going to push my dreams onto your shoulder. No matter how good a father I try to be, I might sneak in a few words about IIT and how you should try and get into engineering and how MIT has the best labs and you should work there etc. I am telling you now - I will love you no matter what college you go to or what you decide to be in life.

Interesting people, I have found, do only two things - They either create something or solve problems. The really interesting ones do both. If you are doing this, you are doing life right. Your looks wont matter, what car you drive or where you live wont matter. It doesnt matter what your friends say, or your relatives or even what I say. Being happy matters. Being happy is an art and like every art form, it get better with practice.

Your mother and I love you very much. We already love you, even before you are born. We loved you even before you were conceived. You know what? I was 14 when I first met your mother. And she was just 13. It must be funny imagining you parents to be little, no? I remember saying to myself that she had the prettiest brown eyes I had ever seen. I also remember thinking that she would make a good mother. Amazing no? That the 14 year old me would feel that a 13 year old girl will make a good mother? But tell you what, in all the years that I have known her, my belief in her has only strengthened.

I wish I could insulate you from all that is wrong in this world. But I wont be able to do that. Come to think of it, maybe that is not a father's job. A father's job is to guide, I think, not cajole. If you find this to be incorrect, please let me know. There are going to be times in your life when you wouldnt know what you are doing with your life and where is your life going. Everybody will tell you to do what you love. But no one will tell you how to find what you love. I am sorry I cant tell you that either. Only you can find love, in work and otherwise. One trick that I have found is to listen to your heart more than your mind. Your mind is plagued with what they show on TV and what they write in the papers. Listen to what your elders say, including myself. But dont buy everything we say. Most 30 year olds I know dont know what the hell are they talking about. Extrapolate that to all other age groups. But do listen to elders and ask them questions. This is the only way to gain experience without experience.

We are people pleasers, your mom and I. There are very few who dont like me and I dont think any person in their right frame of mind would dislike your mom. Being likeable is not the same as people pleasing. Refrain from picking up that habit from your parents.

Make mistakes. It's very important.It's okay to fail at things. It is not okay however to not give your best. Think about it, if everyone halfassed everything what would the world be like?

Those who say luck doesnt matter are lying. But over time, I have found, luck evens out. Once luck evens out, only hard work stands tall. There is no substitute to hard work. At the same time, not everyone, no matter how hard working succeeds at everything. Faraday, found out the relationship between Electricity, Magnetism and light. One has to have some divine intervention to find that, I feel. But when Faraday was made to work in a glass manufacturing lab by his jealous boss, he failed miserably for 4 years! You might not succeed at everything. But succeeding at everything is not the aim of life.

Some of your friends are going to have better parents, maybe more educated or who earn more than us or they have better toys or have a good looking boyfriend/girlfriend. You dont know their story. You havent walked in their shoes. Dont be jealous. If you learn to do that, teach me how.

In closing, all I want for you if good health and a good life. Happiness and joy. Experiences and lots of trials and errors. Lots of love and an honest heart, my child, will lead you a long way.

Lovingly,
Daddy.



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The weight of the soul and sand....

I thought of this today. I think of so many amazxing things but since I have a job that takes up much of my time and creativity I don’t get to share the gems with you guys.



Everytime I get some brainwave, I want it to be like a story – you know start, middle and end – something that would enthrall you. But very recently, I have decided that I am going to share my half baked ideas with you and share the real gems with the guys who buy my books – the paying customers, you know! :P

I know what you be thinking – he writes once in abluemoon and acts like a turd, I am going to ctrl+w his shit. But wait – The wait has been worth it for this idea will change the way you look at life, well, not quite, but it’s a good idea, hold on –
So, you know how kids ask what happens when we die and what is a soul and what is its nature? I think I know.

I think every man has a soul – wait – let me scientify it. A soul is not a single entity. Think of it like a pouch of grey sand (found on the bank of Yamuna). There is say 100 gms of such sand dissolved in you. These 100gms is unique to you. Not everybody has 100gms and not everybody has the same shade of grey.
I already have a feeling I should stop here and share this with my paying customers, but anywho –

So, all living things have souls, right? That includes trees, and dogs and cockroaches, sure the cockroach might have only 3 gms of red coloured sand, but it has a soul alright.

Now as a rule, soul can neither be created nor be destroyed, it can be only moved from one living being to another. You know how they say at the beginning there was God – well, that might be true, he had a million gazillion gms of sand type soul which he later dispersed in living beings – also known as the big bang – into small bacteria like life forms, gazillion of them probably, each having 0.0001 gms of sand as the soul.

Oh, we have gotten the deep end of the pool. Let us go now to the much more enjoyable shallow end – How do babies get their soul and when?

I think as soon as the sperm and the egg mate, the baby gets a soul – a teeny tiny 0.001 gms of soul maybe, but a soul nevertheless. As it grows in the womb, the growth of the soul remains stagnant. Let me clarify at this point that just because something is growing doesn’t mean its soul is growing too, also the weightage of the soul isn’t directly proportional to its weight. For eg – an elephant might have less of a soul than a man or a dog for that matter. Also the soul grammage differs from elephant to elephant.

Once the baby is born, when it starts crying, it is for a few seconds just surviving on the 0.001 gms of soul that it had for the 9 months of its inception, its only when it gains awareness does it get its entire soul. For babies that are stillborn, there is only 0.001 gm of soul that nature has to recycle which I am assuming is easier. Sorry for being so morbid and insensitive at the same time, but bear with me.

When a human dies, their soul is no longer of use to them and is recycled by nature. It need not be immediately recycled though. The babies yet to be born in the particular humans’ family, I think, have first dib’s, to get a part of that soul. That is why, so many kids have the peculiar habits that their great grandparents had.

Some characterstics are pre-coded into your soul, just like some people have blue eyes, some have a dark soul, they don’t wanna help others, are jealous, cranky.. while others might be more helpful, polite, loyal…

Nature vs Nurture

I strongly believe Nature wins over nurture big time. The fact that most souls remain in a family getting passed from great grandpa/ma to great grandson/daughter, a bad souled grandpa would lead to a bad family. I might be over simplifying but what I basically wanna say is this – If the parents didn’t do a good job of nurturing a kid, maybe the kid wasn’t worth it. Do I hear the knives being drawn?

I have no way to justify it, but I think, a good kid would do well, irrespective of what the parents’ report card says. Also, I am saying that parents do less for the kids who they know aren’t good seed.

Hmm…Maybe is this is why I don’t publish half baked ideas. But this one has taken quite a bit of time to write and it would be a shame to hide it in my documents folder – So here I click the publish button – Swish!

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Those 5 minutes...






She stood alone on the crowded Mohammad Ali road... Where did he go? Maybe he was thirsty and went to get a drink... But he could have stayed put in one place at least till she got back... Now she was angry... She didnt spend much time adoring that kurti at display in the window... Pretty things catch her eye. That was probably her only handicap... She could not resist pretty... And now he was gone.


1 minute.

She kept looking for him.. doing 360 degree turns all over... all she saw were people... There are so many of them in this country, she thought... And still her heart goes out to one boy... And he cant even stay put in one place.... What was he - a 5 year old?



Why does she miss him so much? How did she fall so much in love with him, that his absence would make her feel so alone... Or was she worrying... Worrying about him? But he is not a 5 year old - in spite of the way he behaves around her... She knew he was known to the city as much the city was known to him... He could not get lost, or could he?


She saw a constable dressed in khakhi buying a glass of chai outside a tea stall... Should she ask him if he could find him? Would he laugh at her?


He wouldnt get lost now, would he? He will find his way back home... But was it him she was worried about? Or was it herself... She was left alone in the middle of a crowded street... She knew the way back home... She knew should would reach home safely.. then why the worry?

The noisy street started to turn quiet... No noise could reach her eardrums or maybe the eardrums failed to send the vibrations to her brain which was now heavy with worry...

What should she do?


2 minutes.

Some maulvis passed by her after their evening prayer...What could she do? Go ask the maulvis? What would them holy people know! Who could she ask? There was a boy selling mango juice... He must have seen him... but he seemed so busy mixing the juice with his ladle!

Ah... he is so stupid... If he is hiding behind one of these shops, she will punch him in his stomach, she thought...


3 minutes.


The first drop made its appearance in her eye... She was helplessness.

He tapped on her right shoulder and stood next to her left side, while she turned right expectedly, only to find him standing on her left....


Anger... Hate... Relief... Love... All this for him. Stupid boy.


"I am sorry," he said.


He had an apologetic smile stuck on his face. She looked at his smile. She so wanted to punch him , but God, she loved his smile.


4 minutes.


It was a joke! Why did she have to be so worried about it! Silly girl. Worries so much. He shouldnt joke around with this sweet girl. How much he hated seeing her cry... Why would she cry? Did she think he left without taking her with him? Of course not... She knew it was joke... didnt she?

"I was worried," she said with a stream of tears flowing down her cheeks.


She was worried. When was the last time someone had been so worried about him. She cared for him. She was scared of losing him. She wanted him too. Her stream of tears brought a wave of satisfaction with them for him. He meant something to someone.


"I just left for 4 minutes," he said using reason to justify.


That is it? 4 minutes? It seemed so much longer. She looked at her watch. Yes. Only 4 minutues.


She worries so much. Why is that attractive? How he wanted to take her in his arms, console her... Should he, in a crowded street like this? Would she be comfortable? Was he thinking about someone else's comfort? Since when did he start doing that... Should he hold her hand? Maybe he should... He liked her... He could hold her close to him... It is okay... So many people brushed past him... On a crowded street, where unknown people come too close for comfort, it was considered wrong to hold your girl close to you... This whole country is an oxymoron of sorts...


When he looks at her, why does it become so uncomfortable for her. He made her so concious of herself. His look could pierce everything.


He held her hand... She was the only one on the street that probably had around 6000 people about 10 seconds ago. The shops disappeared.. The shopkeepers were gone... The street transformed... Now it was just an empty street... Her big brown eyes... Her dark long hair... Her soft hand...Did HE who made her fall in love with her too? An empty street... It got quiet...


He held her hand... Why is he holding her hand... There are so many people around them... They all seem to be watching... What if someone sees them... Is it wrong? But this is a street... The way he looks at her... He seems to be calm... Doesnt he get scared? What would she give to get him scared like he did to her just 5 minutes ago... His smile can make him get away with murder, cant it? An empty street... It got quiet...


"I love you," he said, "I guess, I always have... always wanted to tell you..."


"I love you too," she said,"what took you so long?"

It stayed quiet in the empty street, when slowly, the 6000 people started to return... starting from the end of the street... Soon their noise filled the street... The shops re-appeared...


5 minutes


Those 5 minutes...






















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The Screwdriver : The awesomeness of youth


I was a good kid. Really was. And then a good teenager. My parents must have been really proud of me or something. I think the problem with being a good kid is that you start seeing yourself as the world sees you.


Engineering like other professional courses, if done properly, ends up teaching you more about life than about the subject itself. It pushes you to your limit, makes you realise that you might be the best in the city, but stand 15th in your class coz all 14 of them are the best in the city! It is not a good thing for a 20 year old's ego.

I first heard "The Sunscreen song" when I was 20 years old and in the 2nd year of Mechanical Engineering.





I was undergoing a very difficult phase. I think the process of becoming a man from a boy is always a difficult one. No, it is not a physical or a hormonal process. You could be 35 and still be just a boy. This process is tougher, it's emotional, but once you are through, there is nothing quite like it.


Everyday, through Facebook messages and fan mails, I have 20 year olds, not very unlike the way I was, asking for advice about how they could get their girls back or how difficult their jobs are or how confused they are regarding a career choice they have to make. I wish I could answer all their emails and offer them advice, in spite of the fact that I am as ordinary as they come and dont have much experience in life and such compared to what their parents, siblings, friends would have, I do wanna help.



The Screwdriver.






As a young boy, I watched my Mechanical Engineer father fix a broken hinge or a loose compartment door with just a twist of a Screwdriver. Screwdriver fixes everything. No tool box is complete without a screw driver.



If I can offer you one advice for the future, Screwdriver would be it.



I am going to dispense that advice - Now.



Enjoy the awesomeness of your youth, even if youth to you means studying 12 hours a day, commuting to college, attending boring lectures, bruised hearts and itchy pimples. You will look back on these years, sitting on the swivel chair in your office, looking out of the window, sipping coffee...... And feel proud of yourself.



Take time to set your beliefs and form your opinions. Then work hard to defend them. All this while keeping allowances, for they might not be all correct.



Sing.


Even if you don't like your voice. Even if others dont. Bathrooms were designed to make you better singers and nobody has to know.



Don't be jealous of people around you who you think have got it all... When you get to know them better, you realise they dont! Their lives are only as perfect as yours and the millions around you. If you learn to do this, tell me how.



Love.


Love someone... even if you hate the world... love at least one person & when you do, do so with everything you got... It's not love if it doesnt take everything you got.



Spend some time on a beach or a hill. You will realise you probably arent as important as you thought!



Make somebody smile each day.


And when you find that smile you want to spend your life with, let them know...



Do get married.


In spite of what the divorce rates in your country tell you, In spite of what your divorced friends tell you... if you want someone for life, make them yours...


Do NOT sign pre-nuptials, it is the worst thing you could do to yourself.



Understand that money brings freedom to you, but making money needs you to give your freedom away.



Be minimalistic in the way you live your life. Buying many things or too many things you dont want, will make you give up a lot of things you will need in the future. If you don't understand this statement, dont worry, everything will be alright...



Everything is alright. In spite of the 70 year olds who keep telling you that its not. Dont worry, you will be 70 one day and feel the same. But till you reach that age - Everything is alright.



Write.


Even if you cant throw a sentence together. Write something for someone - even if it's a thank you note for the old lady at the bakery.



Support the underdog in a fight. The stronger competitor has fans. All the underdog's got is your support!



There is no better feeling in the world, than proving the world wrong. Prove the world wrong. Time and again.



Put trust in yourself. And then work hard to keep it.



Don't be scared to be alone. That is the only time you will get to learn more about yourself.



Understand that your salary, like other unimportant things in your life like your high school scores, is just a number.



Don't watch porn or Do watch porn.


Either way, know that porn, like a Tarantino movie - has no class and no hint of reality to it.



Nature has a plan for you. Be smart enough to decipher it. Go turn off the light in the living room. Now.



Spend some time away from the cities in the open world. It will do you a world of good.



Run.


If you are ashamed to, run behind a bus, acting like you have to catch it. If the bus stops, quietly walk away. There will be another day, another bus.



Remember the compliments, forget the criticisms. However, dont let either change who you are!


Don't feel bad if something that you worked hard for didnt pan out. If this didnt, something else will. I can't tell you what, but something...



Laugh, out loud. (Don't let it be just an internet acronym)



Listen to your parents. Respect their wisdom. But take your own decisions and be man enough to stick by them. Take responsibilty of the consequences.



Love your parents. Love your siblings. They are a lot like you and you will miss them when you dont get to see them everyday.



Believe in Karma. The world is a system that works according to rules. In 25 years of my life I have realised that Karma is definitely one of them.



Dont be heartbroken by failure, in love or life... Learn from it and know that success wont taste so sweet if it wasnt for the failures.



Have kids. Cute ones. Know that biological clock that's ticking? It was put there for a reason.



Live in suburban Mumbai once, learn first hand why there is nothing like it in the whole wide world... But leave once you start falling in love, for you wont be able to live anywhere else... Live in Old Delhi once, you will know why it's awesome to be Indian.



Everything that's good and bad in this world is due to ego. Only if we could learn to use it better.



Look at your best friends through the years, try to find what traits were common in them - you will end up knowing yourself better... If you have had the same best friend through the years, know that you are very lucky.



Dont be ashamed if you are 20 and dont know what to do with your life - You have such thoughts when you think you can do everything, but just cant decide what you wanna do. Dear 20 year old, rejoice, for you will do well in life.



Advice is almost always autobiographical, only, it's more optimistic than the autobiography itself. Be careful as to whose advice you buy. But be patient with the ones who supply it.



But whatever you do, keep a screwdriver in your toolbox.Trust me, Screwdriver fixes everything!


-Arshat Chaudhary


__________________________________


Dedicated to all the early 20 year old followers of this blog, my facebook fans and everybody who is young and going through a crisis. Trust me, It ll be alright.

The Screwdriver : The awesomeness of youthSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
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17 letters to the editor  

Shaandar Hair Cutting Salon!

The name says it all! Its situated among one of the many boulevards that Mulund boasts of.. This street near my place is full of such shops which some small time traders have set up. There are kutchis, Shettys, Guptas and Yadavs among others who have made this street what it is today.. Among all these shops is Shaandar Hair cutting salon

I have been going there since I can remember.. My dad used to take me there.. I always hated my long locks being cut.. I dunno why, but it felt bad...very bad...like... like someone died.. Maybe it was coz of the tajis* you get the next day at school, or maybe its coz your teacher wanted you to cut your hair short and threatened to tie you a pony tail if you didnt.. Somehow not doing what the grownups want you to do always seemed cool to me (i still find it cool!) By tht logic, cutting your hair was so UNcool..

tajis*- the ritual(?) tht involves slapping the back of the head of the guy whos got a fresh cut. Kids usually stop tht once they get into the 5th grade..Well, most kids do..


So the point is tht my dad used to take me to Shaandar Hair cutting salon every 4-5th Sunday.. I had to come up with like really silly excuses for not having my locks cut and my dad had to come up with like really silly anecdotes to get my dark long locks cut- "You look like a monkey with your falling on your face like tht" (Little did he know tht a few years down the line someone with the very same credentials will rock Bollywood.. yeah SRK! mrgreen)

I have no idea why we went to Shandaar.. Maybe coz it was nearest from home about 5 mins walk and we still took our kinetic..Yeah lazy we were!

So we would get into Mr.Yadav's(tht was his name if I rem correctly) salon. Mr.Yadav is this big paan chewing guy who has the mother of all beer bellies...His teeth were stained but tht didnt seem to embarass him coz he laughed heartily at any silly thing tht his "boys" said in their Bihari accent..

Shaandar cutting was a small place, you walked 6-7 steps inside and you would hit the wall & I am talking first grader steps. Once inside, it felt like a really cool place to be in with the blue coloured plastered walls,mirrors mirrors on the walls, hindi magzines like "sulekha" or something, radio playing songs from the 60s.. Now I, like any other self respecting rap loving, eminem worshiping fan didnt like those songs, but there is something about tht place, you wanna sing along Rajesh Khanna when he goes "mere sapno ki rani kab aayigi tu..chalii aaaa tuu chaliii aaaa..."

Tht place had a weird smell.. The smell of henna, V-John shaving cream, pan parag (or whtever tht is tht he used to chew), Raj ratan red coloured hair oil, pan parag (did i mention tht already?). And thn all these smells amalgamated together to give your olfactory lobe a high of a lifetime..

Mr. Yadav's modus operandi was simple.. Get the sicssors and get snapping.. "Sab Barik kar dena"("Cut it all short"), was all my dad had to say.. and Yadav uncle would dutifully cut my hair short, real short.. But thankfully my hair grew at a rapid pace and there I was again after 6 sundays!

Then I got into the 7th grade, the grade when suddenly your appearence becomes important coz of tht girl you been eyeing and she probably likes you for your cool locks.. You cut your hair and all tht remains of you is, well, uncool.. And they call us "shallow"!

I started going to Shaandar solo, I noticed he had taken dad's "Sab Barik kar dena" very seriously.. It was time I made a few modifications to this statement..
"Uncle, Kaan ke upar ke barik kar dena, baki lamba rakhna"
(Cut the hair around the ears short, and dont touch the others..)
He didnt seem to like this new "kaan ke upar..." thingy. I got this feeling that he loved the "Sab barik kar dena" thing.. That maybe coz he got more freedom to snap his scissors tht way..

"Arre garmi ke din hai, barik karva lo"(Its summer time, u better get a short crop), Yadav uncle used to say mid-January!!!
He kept cuttin my hair the way he wanted, which was real short, and I didnt like it too much... I just kept waiting for a better salon to come up near my place.

I stopped going to Shandaar once I got into engg. Another place had come up near my house. This place had an AC, and it didnt smell, it had english mags, it had lesser mirrors...And yes, no pan parag. The guy who worked there was all cool and stuff with highlights in his hair and used to speak broken english. V-John cream was replaced by Gillette foam gel, Hair gel had taken the place of Raj-Ratan oil, cable TV instead of the radio... In one word, this place was COOL..



The other day, the place where I go usually, was closed and I needed a haircut, so I decided to go to Shaandar..
The place still smelt weird. And yes, there was paan parag around.

Mr.Yadav wrapped a white cloth around my collar

"Kaisa hai?", Mr. Yadav asked.
The mother of all beer bellies had become even bigger, like when you felt there can be no one bigger than "undertaker" and then "Khali" walks in.. The teeth were stainier than ever.. He looked old, half the hair had gone grey, he looked weary too. The condition of the salon wasnt too good either, it looked like a whitewash would help.. Sumhow I got the feeling tht business wasnt too good..

I was taken back by Mr.Yadav's "Kaisa hai?". For two reasons- First, he still remembered me! Its been 3 years since I have been here.. Second, he asked "Kaisa hai?" insted of "Kaise hain?"(which imparts more respect). But this guy knew me since I was 3 feet above the ground, so I guess it was ok..

"Theek hoon.."

"Aaj kal aate nahi aap"
I realised he shifted to a more respectful form of addressing. Sumhow I didnt like it very much. I have been used to being called "tu" by this guy and then all of a sudden he shifts to "aap". It makes you realise tht on the outside you are a grown man to the world.

"er..er.. Bahar rehta hoon aajkal"
How could I come up with a lie tht unconvincing..

"Sahab(refering to my dad) aate hain kabhi-kabhi "

"hmm.."

"Aap bhi aaya karo.."

"hmm..aaonga.."

"Ab toh dadhi banvane bhi aa sakte ho!!! HA HA HA HA"
Stained teeth still didnt embarass him

"hmm..aaonga.."

"Kaisa katun baal? Kaan ke upar ke barik kar deneka, baki lamba rakhne ka na?"

He still remembered how I wanted my hair!!



"Nahi uncle, Sab barik kar do....."

I still remembered how he wanted my hair!!






Update:(May 01)
There is this blog one of my schoolmate has, he has written bout a similar post on haircuts, and the way it is written is dramatically similar to mine.. Now I found it scary, see if it scares you too, it was written way back in Jan or something. Here is the link



Shaandar Hair Cutting Salon!SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
Current Issues: ,
12 letters to the editor