Showing posts with label engineering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label engineering. Show all posts

Of heartbreaks...and Hrishita Bhat

It was an arrow that pierced my heart. The one who shot the arrow was Sharukh Khan... wait... that didnt come out sounding right. The arrow hit a tree trunk and there she was. She made my heart flutter. In those 3 seconds of screen time, she made me fall in love with her.

The year. 2001. The movie. Asoka. The actor. Not important. The girl who I lost my heart to. Hrishita Bhat.

When it comes to love, my brain works like a woman. Sure, I can't distinguish between 37 shades of pink, or tell you what necklace looks better with the evening gown and stuff. What I mean is, I am not like other guys. (I am sure you girls have heard this line before.) I fall in love with only one aspect of a woman and it is almost always never a physical aspect. And that one aspect shadows her shortcomings, if any. But I am a judger. I judge people, women, even more and I am stricter with the girls I fall in love with.



So here I was, all of 16, mesmerised by a new actress. Hrishita comes in the second half of the movie, and an already good movie (one of SRK's very few good movies) seemed even better.

Hrishita had this quality about her. You know, how some people can light up your day? She could light up my day. In fact, just thinking about her made me feel good about the world. Maybe it was her smile, which she flashed with ease. Maybe it was her expressive eyes, which always hid back more than they gave away.

I am a salwaar kameez guy, which means, I judge the sexiness of a woman based on how desirable she can look in an attire that covers 90% of her skin. When Haasil came out, I watched her carefully. I still have no idea about the story. I watched it only for her. Hrishita wore simple salwaar kameezs and I still could never take my eyes of her.

Among the not more than 10 female wallpapers I have downloaded in my life, she must feature in more than 50%. Sure, like a true blue 17 year old, I wanted to see how she looked in short skirts and all, but more than that I wanted to know how she was in real life... Was she shy? Is she moody? Had she trained in any of the arts? Did she enjoy reading?

My fascination with her might have been because the 12th std studies that didnt leave me without enough time for real girls... Then things went from bad to worse as I got into Mechanical Engineering. There were a few girls and the prettiest one of them had a moustasche. I knew how dry my next 4 years were going to be. I had braced myself.

Engineering, especially Mechanical, Civil and Electrical, also known as the 'Real' Engineering, puts you back by 4 years in the charming girls department. While Elec and Comps engineers are out bunking college and watching movies with their girlfriends, we spend long hours making engineering drawings. All through those 4 years, I knew it was alright, coz there was a girl out there who was perfect. Sure she was out of my reach, but only for now. But one day...

I wasn't crazy for her or anything. I don't believe in that. I am super practical and I believe planning works. I knew I just had to turn awesome (more awesome than I already was back then) and then make a move. I had no idea how or where I was going to meet her, but I thought it was the easy part. In the years that followed, I learnt things, about relationships, about life in general. I also got better with women. Sure, I am still very shy, and I am very self concious, but if I like you, I will sweep you off your feet and there's nothing you will be able to do about it . :)

All through the years, I have had a list in my head, of women I find amazing. It has women whom I have met over the years and take the pains to keep in touch with. Hrishita Bhat is the only woman in that list whom I havent met and still manages to be among the top (it is a ranked list :) )

In the rare public appearances she makes, the very few endorsements, she still manages to make my heart skip a beat whenever I see her on TV. I am all of 27, it has been 10 long years. I should have found some other celebrity who could do that for me, someone younger. Isnt that how a male brain is supposed to work? I have never thought of marrying her. All I wanted to do was know her. This now seemed possible. I mean, I am pretty cool once you get to know me. :)

I asked my friends in media if they knew her and if they could set up a meeting even if it was under the garb of an interview or something. But apparently she doesnt do much PR. The other day I was just surfing when I reached this page about a movie that she had produced. And then my heart broke. She had married this guy who was acting in the movie. I would have been okay if the guy was like a stud. But I bet he can't even grow a moustache.

My heart sank.  I don't know what I had expected out of the whole relationship, which was one way anyway. Rahul Sindal, a friend of mine has defined this as "Chota dukh". It is the dukh that strikes when an old flame is married, irrespective of what your status is.

Every guy has a "Hrishita Bhat" in his life. She may be a celeb, or she maybe someone in college. Whoever she is, she always reminds him of his old self and of what might have been. She drives in him, a desire, if nothing, to know that he could have had her. The heart breaks when she leaves him without giving him a chance.

And thus ends, a weird love story.




Of heartbreaks...and Hrishita BhatSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , ,
10 letters to the editor  

A day in the life of a Salesman...



[Long post with lot of Hindi references]

When I was in engineering, the only time I would touch a foreign author book was in the first week of the semester. Preferably someone with a German sounding name like 'Weiss', 'Scharf', 'Kuchen'.. Okay the last one I made up, it means 'cake' in German. Ah, how I miss German bakeries, which they just called 'bakery' in Germany.

As the sem progressed we would shift to local authors, with a preferably rural sounding name like 'Waghmare', 'Gaitonde' etc. Their English sucked but they managed to send the theories across. As the sem came to an end, with our professors realising there was so much to be done in such little time, we were given 1204 pages of assignments. I still havent figured out how come sem after sem, our professors managed to mismanage everything. During the exams, one book, maybe calling it a book is an overstatement, it was just a few pages stapled together with the words 'Jigar's Last years papers' on it. I still havent figured out who this 'Jigar' guy was, but by God, kya Jigar paya tha ussne...

Things changed at MDI. I remember the nights I spent reading Marketing Management by Kotler. I like that book. I just couldnt shift to an Indian author. That was how awesome it was.

I dreamt of drafting out marketing strategies. I would have a bunch of guys under me whom I would bark out orders to.. I would be loved by kids and women and respected by the men. (Yeah, I can be silly like tht..) But that never happened.

I am not good with networking. I was never the guy who would make friends with seniors and ask them what to expect from a corporate job. I didnt see it coming.

In my interview, the interviewer obviously impressed by my CV asked me to review my decision to join the company. "You might be too soft for this..." were his exact words. We were only 2 minutes into the interview. I said I was super confident and signed the papers. My interview took 3 minutes. Probably the shortest interview of all time.

There is a reason it’s called Sales & Marketing and not the other way round. It is an indication to how your career is going to pan out. And then it started. I had to be a salesman to be a good marketer. My previous boss, a marketing guru himself, had told me this. How difficult could this be? I remember thinking.

I was given the biggest territory in India to sell stuff to. It happened to be in the heart of India. Old Delhi. Ajmeri gate, Delhi gate (which is not the same as India Gate as you ignorant Mumbaikars might think), Chawri Bazar, Chandni Chowk... These areas had been glorified in Yash Raj type movies. I know the readers who have never been to these areas are thinking Parathas and kachoris, pretty girls in shiny salwar suits and white doves doing a masakali... But no, that’s not how these areas are. There are no pretty girls to be found, parathas and kachoris are too greasy for one’s taste and no doves to be found here either.

It's 10 in the morning. I stand in the middle of the road, looking at the expanse of shops on both sides of the road. One can stand in the middle of the road here, it is Delhi, you see! I see the cycle rickshaws packed with cartons of hardware tools, paints, silicon sealants, saw-blades. I look at young boys carry these cartons into impossibly narrow sublanes, where rickshaws cant enter.

I enter the first shop. Shopkeepers are such characters. Talking to them can be fun at times. They come in all shapes and sizes. All levels of education, knowledge and wisdom or the utter lack of it.

“Namaste” I say. I like this greeting. Our generation has forgotten this basic Indian way of greeting someone.
“Arre sirrr! Namaste. Kaise hain. Aaao Aao, baithiye...” He says.

I like to start with the most welcoming shopkeepers.

“Colours saare hain?” Says another shopkeeper whom I visit. He is referring to the colours of the steelgrip tape my company sells. This is his way of greeting. A cup of tea is placed before me and we drink tea while discussing colours, pricing, competition etc.

I move on to the next shop and pass by a foreigner couple. They have a book with the title “Indien” on it. They are Germans. I feel a sense of belonging for some reason. I wonder if I should go talk to them in broken German, say hi!. I decide against it. Men all around catch 360 degree stares of the girl, esp her legs. She’s wearing shorts, a grave mistake.

I catch two street urchins, rag pickers really, eye the girl. No, not her legs, but the kit-kat that she’s having. The younger one looks at the older one. The older one says-

“Abbey koi nahi, bachpan mein bahut khaya hai.” (I have had lots when I was young.)

He is no more than 10 years old. It makes a dent in me somewhere.

There are all kinds of shopkeepers. Some of them are innocent, some have half cooked knowledge, some are plain horny. Most of them know what places I have lived in, and almost always have questions about it. Every week, there is a new question.

“Aaj-kal bahut thand ho rahi hai Delhi mein.” He says.
“Haan.” I say.
“Germany mein bhi thand hoti hai?”
“Haan”
“Matlab Delhi jitni hoti hai?”
“Nahi. Aur zyada. Barf padti hai.”
“Kya baat kar rahe hain sir!”
“Haan. Minus 15 tak temperature jaata hai.”
“KYA?” He almost jumps out of his chair.
“Haan.”
“Sir,” I can sense the mischief in his voice, “Fir itne thand mein unki ladkiyaan itni chote kapde kaise pehenti hain?”
“Unke body mein auto heater hota hai...”

Hahahaaa... we laugh...




I visit a shop with owned by a sardar. One of them 50 years old, and his son around my age.

“Paaji, Fevibond le lo. Scheme chalu hai.” I say. Fevibond is an adhesive we make. It is, like most products we make, a market leader in its segment.
“Chaloji, 2 peti behjdo.”
“Nahi nahi, 4 peti le lo. 2 aapki 2 meri.”
“Chal yaar, 4 bhejde bas.”
Now greed takes over me.
“Nahi paaji, 5 hi karlo na, round figure.”
“Oye, chad yaar... Itna fevibond bechke mujhe kya James Bond banana hai...”

Hahaha... we laugh. The son leaves the counter to pick up something from the godown at the back. A pretty foreigner in a pink Indian kurta walks by. Paaji, all of 50 years, cranks his neck to watch her. I look at him. He smiles. I smile.

He looks around to check if his son is around, he’s still in the godown.
“Sirji, kinni soni lagdi hain gori kundiyaan Indian dresses mein, nahi?”
“Haan. Woh toh hai.”
“Aacha, sirji, ek baat batao, yeh gori ladkiyan patate kaise hain?”
“Arre bahut easy hota hai. Aur ek baat bataun paaji? Unko Sardar bahut pasand hote hain.”
“Kya sacchi?” He asks wide-eyed, almost sorry that he hasn’t tried his luck yet.

I take advantage and write down an order of 5 Fevibond cases.




Most of these shops are run by Father-sons, I visit a Haryanvi father-son.

“Kya baat hai bhai, last time scheme cutke nahi aayi?” says the father in a way that I found threatening at the start, only to learn that this is his “loving voice” when I heard him get angry at one of his workers. There was no female in the worker’s family tree who wasn’t brought into conversation.
“Kyun, kya hua?”
“Arre maal aaya hi nahi toh scheme kategi key?” says the son, probably slightly more educated than the father, but equally crude.
“Ruko, mein call karke poochta hoon distributor ko...” I say.
“Haan, phone lagao uss bhen ke ****, mad****, uski bho@#$%” says the father.
“Poocho usko, maal kyun nahi bheja maa ke %%^^ ne, Bhe$%%# uski, $$%@!” says the son, as if the adjectives used by the father weren’t enough.

This, when the distributor and the Harvanyvi shopkeeper are best friends!! The ways these guys express love, I tell you! I make sure things are in place. And I leave, my vocabulary now richer.

On my way to another shop, I get stuck in a human traffic jam!!! There are so many men all around, I cant move for a good 20 seconds. I manage to wiggle my way out of the lane. My shirt by now is not as crisp as it was in the morning. My face is covered with a layer of dust. I wipe my face with a handkerchief.

The next shop I visit has a rate error in one of the bills for something he ordered last week. The rate is different only by 3 paise. But because of the sheer volume he ordered, it makes a difference of 3000 rupees to the final bill. Swords are unleashed. I take a step back. He pushes me a little, I push him back harder. Verbal volleys, fingers wagged, business sense brought into conversation, logic and rationality discussed. He settles down. I settle down. Tea is ordered.

Real men are animals inside a suit. The better the man, the better hid the animal. The better the man, the fiercer the animal. Mediocre men, who fail to recognise real men, suddenly settle down scared, once the real man unleashes the animal within.

I walk back, tired from all the talking, walking. I sit on a bench outside a tea stall, sipping my fifth tea of the day. Evening has set in, but there is no visible reduction on the hustle and bustle. Suppliers, rickshaws stacked with cartons, runners, customers who have parked their Mercedes at Ajmeri gate moving from shop to shop to get the best price. Such different people all working in the same market. From someone who earns 3000 rupees a month to someone who earns 500 times that. All of them fighting for their place in the market.

Then I see them stop, or at least slow down and gaze up at the telephone wires above. I see them smile. I crank my neck. A baby monkey is playing with his mother. He jumps on her tail, pulls her hair, hangs from the wire, all under the watchful eye of his mother. Everything slows down. Everyone has a smile on their faces.

His mother soon realises the undue attention her baby is attracting towards them. She picks him up, much to the chagrin of the baby, who protests like a kid who has to leave the playground when his mother comes calling. Soon they get hidden behind a crevice in an old building. Sanity or insanity, depending on how you see it, returns. People join other people flowing in the river of humans. But the smile refuses to leave. Both theirs and mine.

I wonder what am I doing here. All the degrees, all the hardwork, the talent... what does it boil down to?

Then it hits me –
What is life but a scrapbook whose pages you are trying to fill with photographs of memories? At the end, if you have a photograph each day that will stick in the scrapbook of life, you, my friend, have lived...


A day in the life of a Salesman...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , ,
15 letters to the editor  

What is Love? Explained.

I just returned from an awesome trip to the United States. This info is of no use to you and I am not bragging. It's not brag worthy when every Tom-Dick-Natrajan from Hyderabad TCS has been to Detroit and back. This info does tell you that I have returned and have been jet-lagged to the hilt. So I am sleepy at lunchtime (unlike all you IT engineers, I am sleepy before I have had lunch) and am wide awake at 5 in the morning.

So, I was trying to get myself to sleep one of these mornings that I couldnt sleep at 5 am. Unlike normal people who deem counting sheep as a fairly effective way of falling asleep, I, from my IIT JEE prep days, know that nothing puts me to sleep better than an Organic Chemistry problem.

I gave up on Organic chemistry years ago. I don't get it. It doesnt get me. We don't get along. So, I chose other more difficult, more universal problems to tackle. I picked up a subject, I have been racking my brains over years. What is Love?

Not that I didnt have the answers to this question when I was 17, the age when I finally decided that life wasnt worth living without cable TV. But those answers werent, well, all satisfactory. They left me wanting, like a good meal without dessert. But everything changed the other day at 5 am. Things became clear. I can't explain the feeling. But it was pretty close to when I first learnt how to bowl leg-spin. Oh, I remember the fear in the eyes of 8 year old batsmen every time I came to bowl. Ah, good days those.

So, let me explain What is Love, with pictures for better understanding. You might want to take notes and all. Yes.

All love, father-son, man-wife, brother-sister, grandpa-grandchildren, girl-teddy bear, young man-fast car, nerd - Harry Potter book can be explained using Love between 4 permutations.

1. Love between a Man and another man




All men admire each other at some level. I think it was hard wired in us by nature. We had to like each other to be in groups. There is strength in numbers in the jungle. Being in groups men could protect themselves from other predators. It kept them safe.

(Notice how I have watermarked the images now that I have finally invested my time creating something?)

Men dont want to be caught dead confessing their love for another man, heck, a grown son wont even kiss his father on the cheek (unless he is Italian of, course). Even between male friends, you will never find one man appreciating another man's friendship. Words like - "You should brush your teeth everyday rather than biweekly" or "Stop being such a jackass" frequent among friends. The only way of spotting true male love is when they talk about each other. There is pride there and admiration and if the friendship is really deep, a hint of respect.

Try that between any two men, try a father and son. They might not confess loving each other, but you will find these three emotions when they talk about each other.

This theory can be further strengthened by proving the converse is exact opposite. Remember a certain politician's son was caught doping the night after the politician was killed by his own brother? Okay, search Pramod Mahajan. The world, I think was too harsh on the son. They said he didnt love his father. Yeah. True. He didnt respect his father. He didnt admire him and wasnt proud of him. In short, he didnt love him. So he didnt care.



2. Love by a man for a woman



All men have an inherent need to protect the women they love. A father is always protective of his girl, a brother is protective of his sister, a boy of the girl he loves... There is something very primal in this type of love too.

Along with protective instincts comes ownership. Men were so obsessed with ownership that the society world over decided to make the woman change her surname when she gets married to a man.

I don't know which of these emotions came first. Is a man protective of a woman because he owns her, or does he feel he owns her because he's been protective of her?

My theory can be verified by testing it for love between a man and an inanimate female object, like say, a car. The love that a man has for his car (provided he loves the car in the first place) can be categorised by ownership and protective instincts.

The makers of Rolls Royce were so protective for their car that they sold it to only those people who they felt could take care of the car. Now, that's love. Some parsi men are known to spend more time with their cars than their wives. (That might also be one reason why their numbers are dwindling.)


3. Love of a Woman for a Man






A woman starts loving a man once she starts respecting him for what he is. A daughter loves her father because she respects what he does for her and her family, the fact that he protects her from all evil, that he is her shield. A wife (not surprisingly) has the exact same reasons why she respects her husband.

Pride is another trait of a woman's love for a man. Ask a woman where her fiance studied - the pride that brims over when she says -IIM Ahmedabad. Never before has the name of the city "Ahmedabad" been pronounced with so much pride. Ask woman about his less educated man's education and she would go - He is the MD. MD of what company, you ask? MD of his father's company. You later learn that his father owns a stationery shop and the MD is actually the shopkeeper.

Like men, women have a few inherent needs too. Women find that the men they love are incomplete without them. A mother feels that about her son, so she ends up ironing the clothes of her son who lives in the hostel, does such stuff on his own back there, every time he comes home. A wife feels the need to pack the bags for her husband's South Asia trip, because "he can't do a good job on his own", forget that fact that he has been around the world before getting married, and has been pretty much packing his own bags.

Men, obviously like the attention. It is a kind of love they are incapable of. Love that is blatantly obvious.

The only problem with the "incomplete without me" emotion is, that when there is more than one woman vouching for the love of a man, it can get catty. Like when - the wife joins the beta-ma club. True story.


4. Love of a woman for another woman:






There always exists a subtle hatred between women. I think it is evolutionary too. When stone age man used to go around in groups so would their women. Inherent in human beings is the need to protect it's young. Now, a man would have relations with more than one woman, every woman would want him to care for her offspring more than the child of another woman in the harem. Hence the hatred.

But this subtle hatred is important for love between women. This tells them that they are related in some way. Indifference is worse than hatred. Indifference is what you dont want someone to feel for you.

Women, when they start understanding each other, they fall in love. It might be easier said than done. Go sit in a ladies compartment in a mumbai local to learn more.

Caring comes naturally to women. But they extend this only to the women who they deem worthy of it. Once they do, they do love each other.

Now, when a woman says she loves another woman, that shouldnt be taken seriously. Observe two girls when they first become friends. The rainbowy talk, the sweet secrets being shared, you think it will go on for ever, only to find them go their seperate ways in two weeks for something as silly as "she likes Ranbir Kapoor. He's mine." I say why fight over Ranbir Kapoor. He's gonna get fat one day anyway.


So there. That is my complete understaning of love and I have explained it with pictures. In case there are any questions, I am always available in the comments section.

Till the next time, keep falling in love.







What is Love? Explained.SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , , , ,
11 letters to the editor  

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

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , , ,
17 letters to the editor  

Arranged!

Short Story

"Heyyyy! Long time... What are you doing here?" Rajani yelled from across the shop.

Yelling in a saree shop is acceptable. It is like a cafe... for women... And you get to meet so many of your old friends... Rajani was a dear friend from college.

"I was buying sarees for my wedding..." I said.

"Woooowww... When are you getting married? How come you didnt tell me?" She asked.

"Umm... In two weeks... everything happened so fast..." I managed to say.

"So how is he? What does he do? Is he a Doctor? Remember how you used to say...," Rajani glanced at my mother who was going through a pile of sarees, "Is it a love marriage? Or is it arranged?"

"Umm.. It's complicated Rajani... He's an Engineer. Works with a multinational in Banglore," I said. I looked at my mother who was now getting impatient going through the pile of sarees all by herself... "I should get going Rajani. I will call you some time?"

Rajani left. She noticed I was under a lot of stress. Weddings are stressful. I thought mine will be smooth sailing. But life doesnt happen how you think it will.

I thought I will marry a Doctor someday. He will sweep me off my feet. I would be intrigued by his passion for his work. His dedication towards his patients, his ability do good for the society would attract me towards him. I looked at the sarees my mother was showing me. Peacock green with a turquoise pallu for the sangeet. Bottle red with shades of pink and a light orange pallu for the wedding day... I had a say in choosing the sarees I wanted to wear.... But what about the man I wanted to spend my life with?

Why didnt I have the right to choose him?

***

For our honeymoon, it was decided that we ll go to Ooty. It was close to Banglore. So it was decided.

Sometimes I think things would have been different had I been born and brought up in a big city... Maybe then I would get to choose the man I wanted to spend my life with. But look at Rajani... she lived in the same city... we went to the same college... and she can fall in love and marry the man she loves.

Why didnt I fall in love? I was friends with some guys. I had a crush on a guy in college. But could never fall in love with him. Should it be this difficult?

Walking down the steep inclines of Ooty with Suresh, now my husband, I couldnt stop thinking about how I had imagined my husband to be...

I thought how I imagined our afternoons to be... How we would talk about serious issues... about work... about how we wanted to do something for the poor... contribute to the society....

Suresh cracked a joke... I smiled... just enough to not hurt him... The poor guy had been trying to make me comfortable for the three days that we had been married.

He's so different than the guy I thought I will spend my life with... Suresh pointed towards the valley. He said something and laughed. I didnt hear what he said, I was too lost in myself. But his laughter was infectious. I smiled. This time, not out of mercy.

I was lost in my thoughts as we walked downhill. Just then a state transport bus came screeching down the slope and Suresh pulled me towards himself. I looked at the bus that whizzed by... too arrogant to care about a girl lost in her thoughts. I looked into the eyes of Suresh. He held me by my waist. I could feel his heaving chest, his strong hands... This was the first time I was standing this close to a man. I felt safe. I meant something to someone. There was someone who cared for me. He let his grip loose. His eyes almost apologetic for having held me so close.

He was back to his jocular self after a while. This time, I was lost in his talks. He was so intelligent.. so witty... We came across a park where there were school kids playing with balloons. He kept looking at them, a smile playing on his lips... The smile faded when he saw a poor boy in tattered clothes looking at those school kids. He went ahead a bought a balloon for him. The eyes of the little boy lit up. He ran off with the balloon jumping with joy. There was a smile on my husband's lips...

I fell in love with my husband.

***
Back home, once we were out shopping...

"Heyyy.. long time... How are you?" It was Shreya. We were friends from school... "And when did you get married?" She asked looking at my mangalsutra and the sindhoor on my forehead...

"Last month." I said.

"Woooowww... that is so amazing... Love marriage or arranged?" She asked.

"Arranged." I smiled.




________________________________________

I would like to thank Heena. This is the first time I have adapted a story. "Arranged" was first written by Heena here - (http://queenofmars.wordpress.com/2010/09/08/a-walk-to-remember/)

This post is dedicated to Nupur and Heena for different reasons. You know the reasons.

I was talking with a German friend the other day. The topic steered to Arranged marriages in India. Though she argues with me on most things (in spite of me being right always), I never thought I will find myself supporting the concept of Arranged marriages so strongly. I hope this story helps.

This is the first time I am writing from a girl's point of view. And yes, it was difficult. If any of my engg friends call me girlie after this, expect some serious ass kicking..



Arranged!SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , ,
8 letters to the editor  

Something that I have to share with my readers...


People have many fears. I have this friend who has never failed an exam and still fears that he will fail. One of my uncles fears losing money in the stock market. You know what my biggest fear is? -

I fear that nobody will want to hear what I have to say...




On a wintery morning in January of 2007, I wrote my first post. I didn't think of the future then. It was just something you do when you are fed up with life.

I was in my final year of engineering, and as it is famous for, Engineering did enough to make my life a boring routine - Lectures, Assignments, Practicals, more Assignments, Prep leave, Exams, more Exams, Results, Placements and more...

Life happens not in a planned way but on a wintery Tuesday morning... like it did to me...

It happened when I decided to start blogging. I never thought I was a good writer. All I knew that I could tell stories. I wrote my first post and hoped my friends will like it. Some of them did. They pushed me enough to write the second post, then the third... till I became addicted to writing...

I think a lot, and I continue thinking till I write my thoughts down. This very blog taught me that. I would write down my thoughts and that would clear my head for newer thoughts, saving me from the cycle of thoughts that I used to get caught up earlier.

Dont you think who will remember you when you go? When I go, will they rememebr who Arshat Chaudhary was? Was he a good guy? Was he funny? When I go...I will leave these stories behind... and hope that through my stories you read my soul...

It is difficult to write a blog. It is difficult to place yourself out there. You are potentially standing naked on a street. in fact, it's even worse, as on a street, no one knows what you are thinking...what your deepest fears are... Everyone who has been on this blog, knows me.. atleast a part of me...

What gave me the courage to a guy like me, shy and an introvert, to start writing, putting myself out there! Trust and Love!

I hope through my stories, I have made you smile, made you cry, made you think, asked you to fall in love... I hope I have fulfilled my purpose of starting this blog.

I look at the followers of this blog. I am humbled when I realize there are so many of you who have never met me, dont know what I look like, dont know what my religion is, or what is my political inclination, but still you love me enough to read what I have to say...

It's funny how a simple comment from someone whom I have never met made me feel so happy for days together... I hope my stories have had a similar effect on you.

I can't help it if I sound sentimental today... But today, something happened which I didnt think was possible...

I have always loved your comments, even when you didnt comment, I knew you had read the post, and I was in some way, able to touch your lives in some way... I felt happy that I could do that. All those words of appreciation some of you showered on me on my Orkut and facebook profiles and through email, though exciting, only ended up humbling me and pushing me to come up with better stories...

In most of my posts, I must come across as a guy who has this inherent urge to announce his supremacy by cracking stupid jokes about how awesome he is... But honestly, isnt that the trait of a person who wants to be accepted? Dont you think the guy who goes on saying that 'I am the best' is actually not too sure about it..?

All this while you have enjoyed my posts... I sincerely hope that you have... You have seen me grow... From a boy studying for his final year engineering to the man that I have become... I know, not much of a man... but play along, will ya? :)

I have shared so much of my life in the last 2 and a half years, I have to share THIS with you, this is what I did today...

I signed these papers. I am now an Author.



I owe this to each one of you.... each one of you who has come on my blog... liked my posts... or even disliked my posts... each one of you has influenced my life and writing in some way.

Today, to each one of you who has taken time out of their lives to hear what I had to say -

Thank you
Something that I have to share with my readers...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , , ,
27 letters to the editor  

Of growing up, getting married and saaleeee....

The tough thing bout growing up is that the feeling comes rushing.. It gives you no time react... Like when one of your male friends is off to get married.
Its different from your female friends getting married, with them you can always reason with yourself that in certain communities girls get married early and girls usually get married off before guys and maybe its not yet time to growup for you.. But once your guy friends start getting married you know you are growing up!
One of my closest friends is getting engaged in a few days, and I cant help feeling that we are growing up, big time..

I remember our engineering days.. He came across as studious to me, but in due course I realised that he never studies, hes just plain gifted..

He is the brand ambassador for gujjus in mumbai.. He actually picks up clothes from Fashion street.. And all the tacky ones - Tshirts in colour of red orange and yellow!

His quick wit is legend.. and so is his tiffin.. All those wafers, theplas, samosas his mom used to pack in for him..yumm.. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Aunty.. The reason why ur son isnt round and fat is coz I used to eat half of his tiffin! burp!lol
He had half the kitchen packed in his tiffin box. He even brought spoons, knives and forks to eat with.. And he always brought something for dessert.. The dessert, unfortunately, was never shared..

Great times those were.. I remember how we broke rules in our own inconspicuous way.. How "saale" was our preferred nomenclature for each other inspite of the choicest Indian gaalis that Engineering offers.. How the assignments were submitted always late and how we had decided what all days to bunk college to(the days no practicals were scheduled!).. How we attended very few lectures but enuf to not be black listed. How we worked hard for that disticntion aggeregate, which came late but came with a bang.. How we played multiplayer Explode arena on our bluetooth cellfones during the lecture and how we still crib about who owes how much money to whom!

I still find it difficult to believe that this guy is actually getting engaged!


Heres the chat we had a few days ago..
Now he has announced his engagement to very few guys, mostly close friends and family, so I have changed a few details bout him in the post.. Maybe after he officially announces it, we can have a more colourful post.. ;)
Lets call him MunnaBhai(To protect his identity baba!) and lets call me er.. Arshat(I cant hide my identity on my blog now, can i?!)


Arshat: Kaisa hai saale?
(Note that I start off with the "word" )
MunnaBhai: Thik hoon..Aur bol, kya chalu hai?
(Note that he doesnt ask me how am i doing... he was never a fan of the obvious..)
A: Kya bolu bey.. chalu hai..
MB: Abbe, I wanted to tell you this - I am committed..
A: oh..I see.. but committed to wht? to ur studies? college?
MB: Saleee.. commited to a girl na!
(Note the triple "eee" at the end.. this is used for greater poetic effect)
A: Kya baat kar raha hai? If this is a joke, I will kick u in the butt and a lot of other places..
MB: Abee seriously!
A: Kya? how? when?
MB: Arre 3 weeks ago..
A: Aur tu mujhe ab bata raha hai?
MB: abbe yaar..It still hasnt sinked in yet..
A: And y dont u have a committed sign on your orkut profile?
MB: Wohi toh.. It still hasnt sinked in..
A: Obviously na.. who thought a girl, that too an alive one could like you!
MB: Saaleee..
A: So when did you do this?
MB: I asked her 2 months ago.. She said "yes" 3 weeks ago..
A: Hmm.. Cant blame her, other girls would have taken a lot more time to say yes to you! and who knows if they would say yes in the first place! :P
MB: Saaleee...
A: Shes a gujju too?
MB: Yeah.. my caste..
A: She hot?
MB: Saaleee...
A: Tere mein itna guts kab se aya saale.. proposed and all!
MB: Dunno re.. just aa gaya..
A: What does she do..?
MB: Arre our jodi is like your parents..
(Note the word "jodi".. Typical of him)
A: huh? As far as I know none of them are gujju!
MB: Abbe, I mean shes a doctor too..
A: Wow!! You got yourself a doc!! Man I am impressed..
Btw, Is she hot?
MB: Saaleee... Shes gonna be your bhabhi..
A: Not untill the next few years..!Atleast 1-2 saal bad shaadi karega na..
MB: Haan re.. once i settle down, job and stuff..
A: Man.. I am really happy for you mate..
MB: Chup bey...You sound like a girl..
A: Do I? hmm.. but cant help it mate.. who could have thought a guy with your intelligence would end up with a doctor..!
MB: saaleee...

There was a lotta truth in that last line.. No, not the intelligence part.. He is very intelligent and has a super memory.. He can byheart 14 pages of a VB program, without actually knowing the head and tail of VB(Visual basic, baba). But in the 4 years that I have known him, I never thought hes the kind who can fall in love with someone, and more astonishingly ask her to spend the rest of her life with him.. I really thought Aunty will have to do it for him.. twisted
mrgreen Hehehe.. I just imagined Aunty say that to a girl - "Jinal beta, tamme maro dikro ne saath apne bakine life spend karu cho?"(Man my gujju sucks!) bwahahahaha... tht IS funny!

A: So, you are ready to spend the rest of your life with her..?
MB: yes.. Thats why i asked her..
A: You are in love?
MB: I think so..
A: How do you knw?
MB: Saaleee, tu toh Karan Johar type questions pooch raha hai..!!! Close your eyes and if you see her face, then you are in love with her! heh heh ..
A: hhehehehehehe.. Kya paka raha hai saaleee..
MB: I dont know re, you feel like wanting to be with each other and talk, u knw..
A: Just talk?
MB: Saalee.. Gutter brain...
A: Abbe nahi re, I was asking if thats enough to know that you are in love..
MB: Arre you want to be with each other all the time.. I call her whenever I get time and so does she!
A: wow! Its been a month since you called me..
MB: Well, I would if you would spend the rest of your life with me... :P
A: Yeah.. dream on! hehehehe...
MB: heh heh..lol..
A: So thats all you wanna do? Talk and stuff...
MB: Yeah! We talk a lot.. mera last month ka bill 1300 aya..
A: Saale gujju.. Baniya jaisi baat mat kar..
MB: heh heh.. I was just giving you an estimate..
A: hmm.. Can I look her up on orkut?
MB: Saale.. dont even dare do that..
A: Is she hot?
MB: saaleee...
A: Man! You already sound like you are her husband..
MB: Hehe.. I do.. I know.. I guess I like her too much then..
A: Hmm.. She must be a nice girl.. And you know what, I will be her fav among all your friends..
MB: I am sure you will be..
A: hmm..
MB: hmm..
A: chal then..Its 2 am... I should get going..
MB: Yeah.. bye
A: Just one last thing..
MB: Yeah?
A: Is she hot?
MB: Saaleeeeeeeeee...
 Of growing up, getting married and saaleeee....SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , , ,
10 letters to the editor  

Taking it to heart...


Summer of 2001..
A R's classes..

Sitting in that class with all the happy faces around me, I couldnt help but wonder why I wasnt feeling happy.. Why wasnt I feeling happy for them and why I wasnt feeling happy for me. The class was for coaching us blokes for the engineering entrance exam(2 yrs in advance!!!). The class had a steady mix of ICSE guys and SSC guys. The ICSE results had been declared two weeks ago. The SSC results were declared 2 days ago.. The happy faces however did not belong to the ssc guys.. Ofcourse they had scored 85%+ which during our times were decent scores, but the jubilation had somewhat been dampened by the scores of the icse dudes.. The lowest icse score in the class was 87%.. The avg icse score was 90%. At that score any ssc guy would be famous in his galli and mahulla, with aunties coming to him and asking him bout what coaching class should her son should join and stuff like that!

Now getting admission in Mumbai is fierce competition, more so in the central suburbs, simply coz there are more students than college seats, not to mention 50% reservation(subject of a different post) and various regional quotas.. Every mark counts, and when you see guys from a different board getting scores as high as 92% , simply coz 90 marks in languages are gettable for them whereas only a handful of ssc students get those kinda scores in languages, you cant help feeling sorry for yourself..

AR's classes continued well into the admission season. You expected colleges to do something bout this gap in the scoring of the two boards. They didnt do nothing..! You expected the State board to intervene.. It didnt do nothing..! The icse guys got admissions in the first list itself.. Ruia, Ruparel were easy pickings.. Sies and Khalsa were too downmarket.. Sies was chosen only by those who wanted their education to be free.. Sies offered full scholarship to anyone scoring more than 90%.. Yeah that included even the icse guys. And the city was full of 90+ icse students.. I lost respect for the college after that.. 

The ssc students  on the other hand were waiting for the second and the third lists. The ones with less than 85%, like me, waited for the fourth list..

Rejection is a big deal when you are young.. When you dont make it in the first 3 lists, its the college telling u that u aren't fit to be in the elite.. You aren't good. You don't meet the standard. Its what a designer feels when his designs get rejected, its like when a filmmakers feels when his movie flops.. But it is tougher here - here YOU are the product..!
The filmmaker can come up with a better movie next, but how are you gonna come up with a better - YOU?

Admists the turmoil of thoughts and emotions, I remember telling myself - "I will make them take me in the next time.. "
Such wisdom could come only from the very young and the super naive..

Now that I look back at those 2 years after ssc that I slogged, I realise I did it to prove to those colleges how wrong they were.. And how their "elite" students wont make it to the Engineering college that I will make it to.. And yet, the thought itself is so wonderfully stupid that I cant help but feel proud of it.




Summer of 2008.
Siemens Design office.

As I was flipping through the newspaper, I came across this article bout a new "system" that will  be introduced this year. It said that the ssc students needed a fairer trial versus their peers in other boards. It said that Icse board had a liberal marking scheme and to normalise that, the govt. has come out with system. 

I couldn't believe what I was reading.. This is what I have been saying all this years! I finally had it in print! Some smart guys in the govt. had finally taken notice of the injustice imparted to ssc students and had come up with a plan.. 

Cynicism disappeared.. Idealism returned.. Justice does that to you. This system was not gonna affect me in any way. I was through studies and college. So were all my friends and everyone I was close to. But I still couldn't help feeling happy that atleast someone will get a fair deal. Finally after all these years, the govt took notice. Thank you Education minister.. You are the man! 

The number of ssc students in the elite colleges doubled! Ruia, Ruparel, HR, Xaviers were, all of sudden, within reach.. Ssc students were finally getting what their marks were worth.




Summer of 2008
Mulund Residence

Last Saturday, I woke up to this - IT'S CANNED


The Mumbai High Court has ordered the Govt. to can the system they used for admissions. They say the system used isnt fair on the Icse students.

__________________________________________________
Now the system :
Lets say you score 83% in ICSE. And lets say the avg percentage of first 10 rankers of ISCE board in the state is 98%, then your percentile will be - (83/98)*100=84.69%ile. 

Lets say you score 83% in SSC. And lets say the avg percentage of first 10 rankers of SSC board in the state is 93%(yeah! thts the wide gap in the marking I was talking bout... ), then your percentile will be - (83/93)*100=89.24%ile. 
___________________________________________________

Pray tell me Mr. Chief Justice Swantanter Kumar, how is this system flawed??!! 

Lets assume that you are right, after all you have read a lotta law books and passed from the best schools(Icse were they?), what do you intend to do about this situation? since we are canning this system, is the govt. allowed to come up with a new one? Or do we go back to like it was all these years? 


I have nothing against the Icse guys, some of them are close friends of mine. Half of my cousins are from the Icse board. Many readers of this blog are Icse educated. I think Icse educated guys are very intelligent. They know bout a lotta things. They are exceptionally good at Indian and World History. And are also good at Science, esp. Physics. My knowledge of Icse students is limited to my cousins and my friends, so my observations are an extrapolation of it... 

But you cant deny that Icse is liberal when it comes to marks, and when it comes to admissions ssc students always get a raw deal.. Maybe, just maybe, this new system was unfair to the Isce students, but then, all these years have been unfair to us..   

I read somewhere -"Part of growing up is taking what you learnt from that and not taking it to heart...". 
Mr. Chief Justice, I am taking this to heart, not for myself, but for the thousands of kids who coz of your esteemed decision will have to learn that life is unfair and live with it.. Not that I dont want them to know that, we all figure that out eventually, its just that adulthood can wait, 15 yr olds shouldnt have to go through this..



For the record, no Icse student from A R's class of 2001 could make it to my Engineering college.. 




Taking it to heart...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , , , , , ,
12 letters to the editor  

Shopping in the Ladies section...

Picture this - You are roaming around in a mall..In and out the overpriced showrooms... Shelf shopping through the Mens section..

Shelf shopping coz you are still in the last year of college and cant afford this stuff... You are going through the different types of shirts and jeans that are on the shelf..Denims are in, six pockets are out, or capris are they called?

And whats with the commando prints? What guy in the right state of mind would wear something like that.?! Just then a middleaged uncle with a paunch to show for walks by you wearing the same commando shirt.. Hmm... thts the kind of guy!!

You are browsing through the casuals section, then on to the Formals, then accessories and then you stand at the entrance of that section of the mall where thou haventh venturedth yetth - The ladies section.. You dare not enter.. There are women all around and there are clothes, all girlie clothes and there are a few men giving company to their respective ladies.. every third guy has a baby balanced precariously on his right arm..

You look at those men.. You knell down..God.. Please dont let me one of those men.. Please dont ever make me enter this section..ever..

Then you see men at the payment counter.. Paying for the shopping escapades of their girlfriends, wives or sisters..

You think to yourself, what kinda sucker buys from stores this overpriced!! These men into high paying jobs, loaded with money, pushing consumerism to the limit.. You think to yourself, When I start earning, I will not spend in such overpriced stores..

You see a guy with 3 bags at the counter.. He has a lady with him, shes going through the dresses in the bag... Theres a smile on her face which refuses to quit..

You look at the guy...You cant help feeling sorry for the guy.

He swipes his credit card.. turns back and looks at you looking at him.. and smiles..
That story..




One year hence, you have a job.. Amongst design software and hard core Engineering there is no time for shelf shopping.. You have decent salary and your bank account has started to smile..

The sister has to pursue a professional course and needs a few new dresses.. Now the sister does believe in my taste when it comes to apparel, this is one the very few things she gives me credit for..

So she decides to punch my smiling bank account in the face.. she took(read dragged) me to the costliest showroom in this part of the world..

We entered the mall.. We passed through the Mens section, casual wear then formal wear.. We were getting closer, then came the accessories section.. There I was standing at entrance of the section where men had their salaries drained... hours spent... credit cards maxed..

While I had a grave look on my face calculating how much this was gonna cost me, the sister was as excited as a kid in a amusement park!!

So wht are you looking for?
Party wear..!
What? You are getting into a Professional college.. You think theres gonna be time for parties?!
I just want this one dress..
Oh..ok..
For the rest of the formal ones we will come back again..
Whaaa?

My eyes started searching for discounts.. Where were all the discounts when you needed them?
I saw some % sign at a distance.. I was pulled by its magnetic presence to its direction.. 40% discount.. Cool.. Just what I needed.. Checked out some tops there.. Rs.1940.. Hmm.. 40% off on 1940, that is..er.. A pretty salesgirl stood there smiling..
"Sir, that is the discounted price.."


I lost my love for arithmetic after that.. I just stood there looking at salesgirl for 1 minute, then at the top for another minute, then looking at her again for one minute.. then she got bored of the routine and left..

The sister by that time had found 3 dresses she liked..She handed me the three dresses to hold while she shopped for more..

I thought u didnt like green..
Oh I meant emerald green.. this is bottle green..
I see..
Yeah..

The sister was getting deeper and deeper into the section. You see, the ladies section is pretty much like a city. On the outskirts of the city you get cheap (relatively) real estate.. But as you move deeper into the city, the real estate prices shoot up.. Similarly, the cost of apparels increases as you keep going deeper and deeper.. Then we arrived at the "core" area.. The Nariman point of the ladies section.. This section is usually occupied by 30 somethings businesswomen or iit-iim grads who earn enough to make grown men cry!

An hour later we had found around 5-6 dresses (some of which were from the "core" area) which she had to try on..I had three tops on my left hand, a maroon, peach and a black number.. On the right hand had I had a green, er I mean bottle green top, a pink one and a off-white one..

Then came the trying on the dresses.. You are allowed only 2 dresses inside the changing room...Here comes my part in the evening...the brother has to stand out with the rest of the 4 dresses and has to approve of the dresses he finds classy enough for his sister to wear..

So I am standing there outside the ladies changing room.. And getting those stares you get when you accidentally board a female compartment in the local train..!
http://www.topnews.in/health/files/angry-woman.jpg

I take this opportunity to go through the price tags.. All 4 digit price tags all of a sudden seemed less classy to me :P And yes, that included even the ones with "cheeky" prices like Rs.995.. I
mean even a 5th grader knows that trick..

After a gruesome half an hr of trying on the dresses, we zeroed in on one black number which I can safely say was the classiest of all dresses we had chosen..

Half an hour of alterations on the dress and we were ready to move on to the payment counter..
As the sister was busy adoring her dress, I was shelling out a few big Mahatmas..

I looked around I saw some college students looking at me.. Giving me that look, the look that I thought I had invented..

And I looked at the sister.. Still adoring her dress.. A smile adoring her face.. All grownup she was, all of 18 years, but I still see her as an 8 yr old who needs me to fetch things for her.. And all those mahatmas be damned, I would give them away for that smile.. And those college guys will know only when their sisters ask them to buy a dress for her... They will realise that its all worth it..

I swiped my credit card.. turned back and looked at the college guys looking at me.. and smiled..
That Story.. Shopping in the Ladies section...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , ,
13 letters to the editor  

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