Choices…

I know this is my choice, my descion, self- inflicted source…so who do rant to about this!?, who do I complain to, I cant stand in front of the mirror and point fingers to myself and say “its your own damn fault!!”

I see his great wisdom at work, I am foolish enough to make mistakes, but wise enough to have a conscience that would hit me.

…but not anymore… Boredom and Lethargy are settling in my pores, weighing my eyelids down; making me unable to think about myself with regret. So much wisdom at hindsight-all the signs by the universe cannot stop me from thinking about it…which is clogging my senses and preventing the foul odor my scruples from reaching this thick brain of mine.

I can’t help but wonder about the choice I have made…I didn’t plan for this, Noosiree…I did not plan to be institutionalized.

I didn’t choose away my freedom. I didn’t choose away by sleep, my weekends, and my shopping sprees.

What I want is so much more than what Life is offering me right now, and these little desires which surface make it difficult for me to turn away…I can finally see that the parts do not add up to a whole.

Is this my perdition!?....do I have to sit through a lecture of a self bloated prof. do I have to turn down an invitation to fly down to another city. It’s the little girl again throwing tantrums… again…

I’m sitting through my lectures…dealing with a grumbling sciatic area…gives a new meaning to the phrase “pain in the ass”….

Excuses apart, I have to learn to live with my choices, I have to discern my desires and curb my impulses. I have to look at the bigger picture and stop my sub-conscience from getting the better of my “superego”.

What a fun prospect!!

Impulse…

So can a woman regret a good impulse!? OH yes!

In many ways there is a part of me that sighs in smug satisfaction at what I just did. That part of me is one that reads Ayn Rand, Paul Coelho, Ethics of Philosophy and The Holy Vedas. Then there is the part of me.. the pea brained, demented soul living on her impulse… singing at a Karaoke bar, driving down to Goa, deciding to leave for Lonavla at 8:00 pm, screaming in a open air café obscenities to mortify a friend (and boy did it work), the footsies, the sculling, the jives…

…the delight of being youthful.

..so I had another impulse, crawling in my brain but, its success was not my fate to decide. So like a dutiful daughter I ran up to him, with the toddler smile, I posed my request. Much to my surprise… Appa agreed… he smiled like a wise man and said… “I call it the dream of every youth and therefore I regret being old”

I rarely spend time with him these days. I forget his unassuming background. I forget how many impulses he might have trampled for me to fulfill mine.

And its not my conscience that smotes me…its his legacy that I have shrugged off that pinches me. Because somewhere in me, in my being that wallows constantly in self pity, there is his heritage. His words are always his to command, a small feat for a man who could often command his emotions- a heroic task for the likes of me.

… I smiled back “…being old makes you wiser Pa, I think I am growing up too”.

Small Wonders….

I detect negative energy very well- emitting from me, directed towards me and when it’s all around me, I call it “vibes”. I get this feeling in the mid regions right where my rib cage ends!

Some other feelings are like it too, anxiety, loneliness, fear --bone deep, silent kind! But when this feeling stays and knots into a dull sort of pain, that’s when I know how much I distrust it and how much I am in awe of it.

But amidst all the eloquent woes of mine, I have tried to keep myself surrounded by happy things, Happy couples, close friends and of course,Pree- if there is a goddess of positivism, she has been reincarnated.

But lately I have been waking up not feeling myself. Everyday has been a routine of:

Gritty eyes-check!! headache-check!!...lazy pissed off attitude-check!!

..the work, the deadlines, the non cooperating team members…just don’t add to any positive feeling.

And when negativism enters my life, it pervades its existence to all the other aspects of my life. I don’t want it too, but it just happens.

It’s funny what all you can do without trying at all. All the spiritual books in the world, all those little prayers in the night, don’t get rid of the evil. Sleep is just a temporary relief.

Then I tried, “selective perception” and *Blink* ….the unhappy me went on a holiday and in came the school girlish attitude. – giggly , incredibly uncontrolled!!

Little things made me happy - new shoes, new clothes, “shudder” pink outlandishly cute bottle, and cartoons ( so glad to see popeye was back in english)

Then of course there were the meaningful things - Lunch with mom, conversations with an old friend, demented laughter spree on bizarre self portraits, bike ride with a friend, phone calls from a distance...just to say what’s up…and... little gestures from the unexpected ones.

Life ain’t that bad after all.

Here and now

I think I have redeemed myself – alteast a little bit. Though I am mortified at thinking I mite have given someone the right impression.

My friends say that it has to do with the way I am. It’s a lot easier for me being me. (as I believe should be the case with everyone, but if only being true , came without a price…and whole lot of other bullshit)

I almost always give the right impression, when I am conscious of it and I enjoy it too.

Today however I wish I wasn’t as transparent. I wish I never said things as much as I did.

I wish I never called…I wish I never expected… for it never comes about and …with no surprises ...it never did.

But my heart is not broken, and I can’t say that without the feeling of mortification color my neck. I believe I have outpaced these emotional troughs and peaks.

..but if I suffer a little at the end of my desire and a few hidden what ifs run through my head. I owe it all to the fact that I am a woman and I write it down to the inability of the female mind to give up on its favorite fantasy.

Somewhere, I read the theory of commitment and logic constituting what everyone wants to romanticize into love… and I remember dismissing the same logic as frigid .

But then I thought that in , how we all love, loose, move on, love again, marry make babies and dismiss some of our emotions as childish and fleeting lies the proof …of how wise is the concept of “detachment.”

But that silly little thing on which my life runs refuses to go by this logic. I write this now, but tomorrow much like a brain dead person… my heart will take control.

I will smile again, I will wish again…I will daydream, and wonder then if it it will ever come true…

…Can you hear me?....



I have been struggling in the past few days to take some time off and pen down (type out) my thoughts….

..but in the process I have discovered the divine truth of MBA…. in the fear of being caught doing nothing, we take up some of the most frivolous tasks which lead to procrastination of the meaningful ones.

I write today about my thoughts that find root in someone elses...not just anybody though!


In the last few weeks I have had the privilege of sitting through the lectures of some of the great men of my time. Anil Tandon, Y.K.Sabarwal, Narayan Murthy, etc..


I heard them all, talk about the prominence of my nation. I felt the pride.

The pride that we are intelligent, we are unique with our culture, we have survived history, we have been blessed with spirituality, prestigious institutions and great philosophers, we a nation of a billion and counting and are finally visible on the real map of the world.

Unfortunately, I felt like it was all a myth…

Call me a skeptic…but I refuse to celebrate the 9% growth ; while my maid refuses to educate her child.

I refuse to believe that liberalization has done us good while the farmers still continue to take their lives.

I refuse to applaud the prestigious institutes; while the birth of a girl child is still considered as a shame in this nation.

My country's childhood has been traumatic....she has been ruled of her indepenence , she has been raped of her identity, but she still struggles today... be it the himalayan borders or the barren vidharba...

…I am saddened by the Identity crisis my country faces….

We laugh at the political system and the people who run it.

But a country gets the politicians it deserves!! and this laughter signifies denial. Denial due to the fear of our inability to change the system.



Its not funny to me ……not anymore……..

From another life:



Pesticides in coke ;train bombs ,dengue ,traffic,bad roads and curroupt authorities.

All these are reasons for the NRI’s to wonder "But why do I come back to India?" ..

I could note a few reasons why-

- because I want signposts in marathi, I want temple bells at dusk, I want to eat bhel puri on the streets, I want the smelly streets that tell me I am nearing home, I want my ‘chiwda’, I want the beaches with coconut vendors, I want to go the talkies to see a fillum.

Heck, I even want the daily ‘train peak hour rush’…, the slow ass internet, the mosquitoes, the cows on the road, the long bus ride...anything if only it were home.

I was born in tropical heat, I was reared with red tape and bureaucratic bullshit, I am equipped to fight for every 'equal' opportunity because I had the misfortune of being born female or of a certain caste.


I am convinced….

Adaptive Systems....

Adjusting to life...being flexible...and adhering to your beloveds wishes...these are all considered to be good traits, or so the world makes us believe

We have always been taught to think rationally...to be reasonable...

But the real question is who defined reasonable?

I firmly beleve in what the vedas say "we are all belessed with a boon"....few of us have been lucky to find it....most of us develop what I call....

adaptive systems.

Your profound ignorance of your ablilty to give into situations and people you would want to reject under complete awarness...

Thereby, it is okai sometimes to reject the best of the options, it is good to have missed the last opportunity.

Because what you belive is good for you is a pure result of these adaptive systems.


It is said...

The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himslef.Therefore progress always depends on the unreasonable man.


Take a minitue and think.....and next time....dont be so adaptive.....find out what you really want.... and go for it.

Bun Maska and chai….



Any one who has lived in mumbai long enough (and this has nothing to do with time) when describing the city would talk about crowded trains, pitiful roads, bollywood, Vada pav etc.

I add one more to that list…. The Iranian Restaurants.

Most of these restaurants are really old, running back to 20 years. Their menus seem to have caught up with time but their service is nothing close to the speedy century we live in.

Run by old irani uncles who look really lazy, but are far from it, they are mostly managed by the shabbily dressed men, who are probably not the kind of people you want to be served by and I have come to believe that the ambiance of any irani restaurant is enough to kill the appetite of someone who thinks Mc Donald’s needs a customer feedback.

Yet, in their own indifferent way these restaurants can very much be associated with and like any acquaintance you want to cherish, you need to give it more than one chance.

By fate, I have been able to do so; every university I have studied at, has had an irani restaurant by the side. First Stadium and now Gulshan…

Bedsides... all the biryanis and mutton patties that they are known for my favorite remains Bun Maska and chai…

For a mere 12 bucks: this little combo is perfect! Especially at 7:30 am when the city is wide-awake and the irani uncle plays his favorite mohomad rafi track.

You really feel like you have you have traveled back in time.

In my busy schedule where I am living on a clock this 15 mins of my early morning chai makes me feel there is no hurry, no timelines, no worries….


If we are what we eat…I would be this refreshing chai and bun maska……available amidst all the superficial concerns, which would kill your desire to know what it is really all about.

All it takes, is a second chance.

Multitasking…


At 22, I am institutionalized.

I have rules, an agenda, a meeting and a team of people to work with.

The older I become the lesser my autonomy.

But most of it is self-inflicted.

The list of things for me to do on a daily basis include:

1. Read eco times
2. Read TOI
3. Work on the paper
4. Meet professors for discussion
5. Read a book (currently reading Blue Ocean)
6. College work (placement, alumni etc)
7. Presentations (Variable)
8. CSR projects
9. the inevitable studying. (Highly variable)
10. and a list of things I do for other people purely out of guilt.

Such kind of Multitasking is actually considered to be a good thing in management.

I could be viewed as someone with high energy levels, very active etc. (flaws of HR?)

To me I am just doing stuff…

I have the time and I have the resources, I mite as well make full use..

Don’t misunderstand. I do have a life…my occasional visits to Leo’s never stop, I still walk around fort and I still go shopping.

Now the real thing to wonder is…

Does doing so many things, which you believe is worthwhile always good?

I dunoo…

But I remember reading somewhere:

“Doing stuff is overrated. Like Hitler. Wouldn’t we all wish he would have just stayed at home and gotten stoned.”

Point is: Its okay to be lazy, its okay to sleep extra one day and reach a little late for work.

And if you get a brilliant Idea at 3 in morning...please go back to sleep... nothing is as important as it first seems.

Need to be Opinionated.

After, giving nine consecutive papers, having three arguments, meeting four really good friends and some several bad jokes later …I headed back home.

On my way I encountered the usual mumbai traffic, bad roads, broken signals with no traffic police. I was a victim to this wretchedness for a good 2 hours.

During that journey I wondered,

Why are the roads always bad?
Why aren’t the signals working?
Where are the traffic police?

…poor sanitation, drainage problems, poor healthcare

Who is responsible for all this?


…I have the ‘Right’ to know this information. It is one of my Fundamental rights!!

The problem is we don’t exercise it enough. Because we are not opinionated!!

When we leave the house we assume we get traffic, we know the roads will be awful, we know littering is bad and no one to hold us responsible, we know there will be floods and so we prepare our selves for it

Why do we always work backwards??…or are we really this complacent?

Throughout history there have been many examples where people have reacted against injustice, rigid mindsets and unfair ideologies ,however its not just their emotions that have made them change the course of actions but it’s the number.

Mass revolutions.

The British who were sent back home from India, the U.S troops who withdrew from Vietnam, The women who won their right to vote, are all examples for what public opnions can do.

Recently the protests across the country led the government to withdraw the amendment to Right to Information.

A victory to those who were opinionated.

As for those who still aren’t:

be intolerant, be insensitive, lack patience... because we need to reach that point in time where we say ‘enough is enough’


As for me…. I shall file my first Right to Information!

Walking down Causeway

....Churchill…Picadelly….Leopold’s and the familiar smokes from Henry road….

Since college has gotten over I haven’t been to causeway… and I really miss it.

Far away from home, it takes me a good hour to get there…but it seems all worth it

My liking of that place has to do with many reasons…. friends…dates…drinks …movies good food…but most importantly the familiarity I share…I could walk blindfolded and yet navigate myself perfectly from mondeys to golden yolk. (Conditions apply)

I have met some interesting people on that street...a bunch of friendly Delhiites overwhelmed with mumbai’s fast life …a few ‘firangs’ who almost always fell prey to the our desi beggar tactics,a split personality cabbie who called him self “Joe something ”.


Causeway to me is not just a street…it seems to convey a lot more than that… …it still has that old Bombay feel to it… The Gateway of India, the art deco style Regal theatre, the cafes (Mondegar, Royal and Leopold) all add to it.

Don’t get me wrong…this is not a guide to the best places in mumbai…

I just believe that everyone has a favorite place in their much loved city…a place that u customarily find reasons to go to ….a place where you’d always want to buy your things from, everything else from anywhere else seems inferior…a place which you would unquestionably miss when u leave the city.

Now think….If you were in your favorite city where would you go?