"Life" supplement of Sunday Times of Durgapur..

How many times have you felt your heart racing against time and skipping a beat, blood rush to your brains, Goosebumps all over your hands? Separate instances, remotely you can relate to, but, a sensational never-before-happened feeling when everything happens in concurrence. As I was driving my bike through the M.G.Road, I did not feel anything different. Prima facie, everything was the same, but, as the distance to the main gate reduced with the throbbing run down, the yesteryears flashed through. There, I used to walk the same road with a bunch of sweet idiots, pulling each others' legs, talking crap about the system (as though we are going to change it), looking up to how cool things are going to be when we start professionally working. Crazy ideas right from the thumping heart and nothing to do with the brains.

We saw what "change" was. How the change was from a single cell-phone (9832132172) in the whole wing to the ever-clicking refresh-button of Orkut pages. How information was and is passed on? How communication is being done? A single STD call used to cost us Rs.3 per min, but, now cross-country calls are free with Skype. I now hear from my then life-supporters (read it Sunny, LH mode Som, Techno Shambu-dha, Xerrrrrooooxxxx guy, et al.) how the crowd has changed and have become more tech-savvy or tech-addict. How much the people here are following the mundane sleep-classes-facebook routine. Life has become a routine for them, which we never had. A matter of concern being, very few people have fun the way we used to have. A "Like" notification is considered a more secure and appropriate way to start a conversation than hanging out in jhoops. With the increasing number of girls, there is more division in the groups. Without a question, the number of couples in the PMC (Piya Milan Chowk), Library, Rickshaws, Library-High voltage lab road has increased, but, is that what the four years vacations is all meant for?

Profs becoming stricter and not allowing students to cheat, 70% attendance becoming compulsory, physical and mental rectifications banned, very few strong groups, where are we heading to? All this may not have an immediate reflection on the way of life now, but, certainly its implications are far worse than to be imagined. But, I am happy for the fact that the crowd is more professionally oriented, more towards the engineering part of it. But, one thing I would like mention here is that, what we guys learnt was more than engineering, it was the way to think like an engineer. The attitude of life - Karo joh Dil Chahta hai, so that the euphoria does not die out. I am more than happy that I was at this place a few years ago, with the best people around and as a true spirit of a human being, I accept that I had the time of my life. Hail NIT-Durgapur...

A Road to Raipur..

"Sir, I need a weekly off tomorrow."

"Last month only you took a day off and went to Bhubaneswar."

"Sir, I went to bring my bike and after that I have had just one weekly off in four weeks."

"Hmmm. Let me think about it. But, why do you need one tomorrow? By the way, tomorrow is Thursday; aaaand that means you will be coming on Friday?"

"Sir, Friday is my weekly off."

"What? Two days leave. What will happen here? You are so irresponsible, taking so many leaves. By the way, why do you need leave tomorrow?" (As if it is his baap ka company which won't run if I don't come)

"Sir..... Have to go to Raipur... Have some work there.... My aunt's relative is coming there to sell her property and she will be flying to Saudi soon and I won't get to meet her beautiful daughter for some years now." (Bingo, Tell a girl's name and there you see his face shine. Frustrated souls of core companies.)

"Oh... Going to meet your girl is it? Achcha, Ok.. But, make sure u come to office by Saturday"

Finally got out of the ill-fated cabin and headed to complete the day's work. Wednesday being the middle of the week, there was not much of work at 1730hrs. Punched out at 1800hrs and reached my home. Packed the necessities and had a sound sleep.

Woke up at 0500hrs on a beautiful November Thursday, freshened up and went straight to Abir's house and picked him up. With lots of nudging and pushing, he finally accepted that we will go in my bird, but was reluctant to take a second helmet. Again, a lecture to convince him and finally we were on the highway to Sambalpur by 0700hrs.

"Any idea, which road to take from Sambalpur?"

"Tippu, we will see to that. First lets have our breakfast."

We had our usual Puris at a dhaba and I was feeling sleepy. I asked him to drive the next 100km and then we will swap. There we went asking people, "Bhaiyya, Which road for Raipur" and finally reached NH6. Crossed the mighty Mahanadhi and true to its name, it is Maha-nadhi. So, huge and voluminous that one tends to wonder about the amount of engineering that would have gone in building that bridge. A moment to capture, we shot our Facebook stills with the bike and the enormous bridge. Later, we set out on NH6 traversing Burla, where the nearest multi-specialty hospital is located in the vicinity and at 100km from Jharsuguda, we reached Bargarh. Happy to see a cinema hall there, we made plans to watch all the soon to be released new movies there. Quite a big town and then after 50km we swapped positions. An untold secret about Thunderbirds is that on long rides, the best place to be is the rider. The pillion feels so uncomfortable that the pee and the chai breaks becomes a frequent visitor reducing the average speed.

After another 50km, we came across the board "Thank you for visiting Orissa. Please visit again." "Its my pleasure, atleast I will be away from the sick-state Orissa for more than twelve hours now". After entering Chhattisgarh, the road started to break in the middle. It was difficult to maintain a speed of 60kmph on a trot, but later the road's condition took the sinusoidal curve. Near important towns, the road did get better and for the first time I was riding in a Hindi-spoken state. All around I saw the shops' name in Hindi and took some time to set in to the gathering. Chai in Chhattisgarh sucks and after a few more FB shoots, we reached Raipur at 1430hrs.

Seven and half hours of blissful riding and we straight went into the mall and booked the matinee show for "Ajab Prem ki Gazab Kahani". We had a couple of Pizza and my heart missed a beat when Abir told me that it is difficult to get non-vegetarian food in Raipur. The movie was a real stress-buster and sometime Pagalpanti also has its own cue.

Came down, had a coffee at the nearby CCD and the girls particularly were not that hot or gorgeous. A few mini-skirts to ogle at and the rest were the plain traditional dress. Nothing was out of the way beautiful about them, but, they were trying hard to portray the-we-are-traditional-girls-in-a-modern-city. We then booked the tickets for the night show and the choice was the worst, Kurban. I did not know it then, but repented very much after the movie.

Later searched for a nice hotel to stay and to put our luggage and for the first time I stopped my bike at a traffic signal. It did feel good only for a couple of seconds, then the cop sidelined us and was asking for our identifications. Happy to see that we were coming from a big industry, he was aghast, just like anyone else, as why we came by a bike. We crossed the Central prison shooting night-time videos, freshened up in the hotel and set out for dinner and the movie. I wanted to eat non-vegetarian food badly, but we were lost in quite a big city of Raipur. Too many cross roads took us to the beautiful and residential parts of the city and as a blessing in disguise, my eyes fell upon "Madrasi Grill". How lucky can I be? Double bingo. Authentic Tamil Nadu Muslim Biriyani at Raipur, where you do not come across a non-vegetarian hotel. Relished my dish and reached the theatre in time for the show and what a crap movie it was. It was yet again an american-muslim-terrorist movie. Finally, we called the long day off and settled under the razai as the winter was finally being felt.

Next day, we started our return journey and shot a few more videos of Raipur and were off on NH6. At around 150km from Raipur, due to a sudden overtake and a loss of control, we hit off-road into the bumps and finally the ill-fated accident occurred with Abir. For the n^th time, the helmet saved both of us. Lucky were we that, we escaped with very minor injuries. Then was my turn to ride as he was badly injured and after 10 minutes of resumed riding, he again asked to take the bike to the side. We stopped and he took a nap.

Finally, on the road again, I was feeling sleepy while riding and there came Abir's resilience to take the reins again. With dehydration taking its toll, we reached Bargarh and ran into the restrooms of Hotel Ganpati. Finally, relieved of the pressure, we relished the American (Oriya) Chopsey and headed back to Jharsuguda with winters getting really colder with the then recent rains. That was when I realized the power of Leather accessories, a must in your kit.

Saturday came.

"Aur, Tippu.. How was your trip? How is your girl?"

"Had a nice trip sir. Looking forward to some more if you would grant me leaves."

"Nahi yaar. You had a reason, so I let you go. But, since she is away for now, concentrate on work for now."

"Ok Sir." (I can see my break-up coming. Atleast for the sake of the next road trip ;) )

Safe Riding.

Red and Black..

The Wednesday morning was cool with my face getting a splash of cold winter breeze while pillion-riding LML Freedom with Abir. The October 14 morning was just another usual cold morning with the exception of enticing things that lay ahead. Bullock riding our way through the village to the office, we punched-in late by 15 minutes as usual. Then the usual chai with hot crunchy samosas kicked off the work with the same contempt. Although my workplace restricts me to wear only digital watches, I could sense the movement of the seconds' hand of the watch equivalent to its hours. Somehow completed the crappy work and there we were off, as soon as the clock stuck 14:00. I went to my room, changed and was ready with my backpack. With Pratap's punctuality we started our Road trip in his car to the capital of Orissa at 16:00hrs. Abir and I occupied the rear seat with Pratap being the only one to know to how to drive a car on a highway, among the three of us. The keen apprehension of driving back on the same NH42 was enormous, but, with Abir, anything is possible. He ensured that things would be fine, every time when we passed through the Naxalite patches.

We reached Bhubaneshwar at 01:00, 15th October and rested at Pratap's place. One exotic thing about car road trips is the coupling effect of soothing music in amazing speakers with the brilliant landscapes. On our right we had dark, tall mountains and unscathed villages on the left. The best song that we enjoyed was "Jao na" from "What's you Rashee?" apart from the eternal "Dil Chahtha Hai". You got to try, and I am sure, you will enjoy it.

On a lighter note what I observed about the faucets of Bhubaneshwar is that they sprinkle water compared to the gushing faucets elsewhere. At Pratap's place, hotels, anywhere one went the same similarity. We had a light breakfast with the excitement increasing exponentially, reached the only showroom in the city. The Royal Motors, Bhubaneshwar was neither as royal as the name sounded nor as big as compared to the machines in store. Mine - the black one and Abir's - the red one was kept outside and we were introduced the machos. With a pre-existing Thunderbird in the showroom, we took a test ride. That was the first time, I rode a Bullet and the experience was devastating for me. Devastating in the sense, I started doubting my integrity. With some emotional help from Abir, Pratap and my best friend Sangeet, I was doing a little better. The small ride was so sensational that I was haunted with the doubts whether I would suit the bike or not, leave alone my trip back.

Then came the cash transfer issue. The couple of birds cost Rs.2.05lac. As we already had paid an initial booking amount, we were complied to pay more Rs.1.85lac. With no cash in hand and everything in card, we faced the challenge of the day of transferring the money. With Internet banking failing us once again, we were left with the only option of withdrawing cash from the ATMs. Hail Mr. P. Chidambaran and the maximum amount that we could withdraw was a paltry Rs.25k per account. We were short of Rs.1.35lac now. God save and there we went to the ICICI Bank of the city. With some breakthrough technology in the banking sector, our birds were saved with the system of RTGS (Real Time Gross Settlement). From this account to that account and from there to another account and finally to Royal Motors account we transferred the Rs.1.35lac. Paid the rest with cash and with the kind assistance from Pratap, we got the keys of our exclusive birds in our hands. The moment in a life, which everyone must enjoy, is pure bliss. With still some tuning left with the machines, we went for helmet shopping and Pratap was the first man to ride my Bird as I was still damn scared to sit on it. With a confidence-boosting session from Abir, I took a ride to the XIMB Cafe Coffee Day and chilled out with my favorite Choc-a-Vloc. Later, we hunted down for a Spicy Biriyani shop and riding in the city night was a special fun with a new bike. We were the immediate centre of attraction when we criss-crossed the wide roads. Diwali, a day away, we bought some crackers and made to Pratap's place by midnight.

The date was 16th October. Bhubaneswar, being a coastal city had its share of winter. 05:00hours was pretty plain and that was when we kick-started our respective birds to a 355km drive. We were advised not to cross 60 kmph speed limit for the longevity of the engine. We crossed the mighty Mahanadhi and then took the NH42. One helluva experience was crossing a mighty river with a thumping background at 06:00hrs. With the speed tab constantly ringing in our minds, Abir was fixing timely targets as we traveled through Dhenkenal, where we had our first chai stop after 80km from Cuttack. Then, at 150km from Cuttack, we reached Angul, the hub of NALCO and the Naxal-brewing place. We stretched ourselves in a hotel where we had our breakfast and still we had 250km to cover. The time was already 10:00 as I was scared to drive for this long. The first 200+km road trip for me and it really did kick the gut out of me. Abir then cajoled me with his first long trip from Kota to Jaipur on a bike and that was as cool as a cucumber and infused the hunger to drive more. With sleep setting, Abir twice almost fell into the adjoining bushes. That was when we laughed and had a nice photo-shoot. Music does play a very important role, because without music, I am certain to have lost my concentration from the road.

The road was superb except for the Angul stretch of 30km and the scenery on both sides were scintillating. There were these small chai shops along the highway proving to be a blessing in disguise. With kilometers behind us, we were the talk of the road, as the fellow-riders were asking about the specifications, price and lots other things concerned with the bird. How often, one sees two brand new Thunderbirds, blazing on a highway?

At around 15:00, we reached within the vicinity of Sambalpur. Jharsuguda is just 50km and we were certain that we will reach Jharsuguda by 17:00 hours calculating with our lunch break. Had a sumptuous biriyani again and left for the final stretch. This stretch is our usual weekend road; so, we know the curves and turn as clear as a NFS gamer knowing the tracks. Finally, we reached Jharsuguda and all Abir had to tell me was that this is his first long trip too....

Aaromale

There is a certain calmness one can observe, when looking at the sea. On the shore, they seem noisy with their waves scripting their poetries on the surface of sandy outlines. But, with their perseverance they can convert a rocky outline to a sandy one, just that one needs patience to do so. A little above, looking deep into the twilight, one does see the happenings of the past. Past here, certainly does not mean getting into the pensive mood, but, it means the actual past that we all tend to forget.

Take the sun for an example. On any normal day, be it abnormal too; when we look at the sun, what we see is an eight minute old sun. As science says, it takes eight minutes for the light from the sun to reach earth. So, technically, we are looking at the sun, that was there eight minutes ago. So, this must be true with all the beautiful stars that we see. Even the gorgeous moon is a couple of seconds old. This, when analogized with human's basic life, it is always we, who are looking into what was there, rather than what is there. We tend to forget what is obvious and see what we convince ourselves to be seeing.

Every time, we want to achieve something, we try. When we succeed we are happy and contended. But, when we fail, we look into the past. Do, a RCFA (Root Cause Failure Analysis) and accept the defeat. Seldom have we tried again, because we are happy with the reasons, rather than working on them.

Why do not we ever do something called as RCSA (Root Cause Success Analysis)? Majorly because, when we are successful, we boast our interest and our will in the achievement. But, seldom have we understood that we are looking into the past. Looking back at the time, "when we had looked ourselves into the future, 'how happy we would be when we would achieve this feat. This is all what we wanted and we achieved it.'" It all began then. The moment once thought to be, happened. Aren't we looking into the past-reality?

Our success solely depends upon how strong we feel about achieving this feat. This is the thin line I am talking about - between success and failure. Lots of times you would have heard that if you really need a thing to happen, so desperately, the whole universe will conspire for you. This is the recursive proof for that statement, which became popular from "The Alchemist".

When you fail at anything, try once again looking into the future, "how happy you would be", then try for it once again. But, never give up, because we are born to win. That is because, knowingly or unknowingly, we all look into the past. That is the way, this universe works. When the mighty universe works that way, so would you - a miniscule part of it.

Looking into the twilight, this was what I realised "Aaromale" (O Beloved), because the waves never stop, at least for another five billion years.....

Bikes - The best way to read a guy..

Ever wondered how easier it would be to categorize people on the way they go about with their things. It is like presenting a simple catalogue and asked to choose the best from. But, we only wish so. One of the most prominent common linkages amongst the guys in the age group 18-25 is their passion for biking. Even if they do not have one (passion), they would definitely use a bike to commute. Even if they do not have one (bike), they will use their friends'. Such are the guys divided initially. So, what are these catalogue businesses all about?

<=110cc

Hero Honda: Splendor, Passion, CD-Dawn, CD-Deluxe.

TVS: Star.

Bajaj: Platina, Discover100.

I am not describing each of the guy's bikes in this category because they are the "Sambar" guys. They very well come under the non-passionate-biking category and are termed "The safe" guys. No wonder Hero Honda operates majority of the bikes in this category. They drive so that they won't waste their time commuting and can invest their "saved time" studying or going to temple. So that, they won't waste petrol; so that, they will be safe on road and so that, they can say "We are Desh ki Dhadkan". We got to give them the tag because, they do save petrol.

>110cc && <150cc:

Hero Honda: Glamour

Honda: Shine, Stunner

Bajaj: XCD, Discover, Platina125, Pulsar135

Glamour, a good bike, but, never a girl would fall for a guy riding in this bike.

Shine, an affordable version of Unicorn and nothing special about it.

Stunner, the poor-man's Karizma and is definitely not as amazing as it looks.

And, as expected, Bajaj steals the category, as guys preferring bikes from this category are as not as passionate as the above one or the below one. When around with their girl, they prefer "The Safe" guy tag, but, when their girl is not around, they portrait themselves as "the dude" which they are not. And this category earns the name "In-between" because it is "Hamaraaaa Bajaj".

>=150cc && <180cc

Hero Honda: CBZ xtreme, Hunk

Bajaj: Pular150

Honda: Unicorn

TVS: Apache160

Yamaha: FZ-S, FZ-16, R-15, Fazer

They say they are the hot guys. With little more efforts, they can transcend to the real hot dudes. But, they are the self-contained guys who are happy with the "dude" tag.

CBZ - one amazing invention in the Indian market and a leap forward. I know many will agree when I say that it opened the market of >100cc.

Hunk is as promising as it looks and a cool bike to have in your kitty.

When the Definitely Male, picks up, he is the pick-up service for many girls. The seats are so designed for it.

How often do people realize that there went a Unicorn. Girls prefer guys with Unicorn just for the fact that they are the "safer dudes".

They say Apache160 is faster than Pulsar180, but, I never felt so and girls hate guys with this bike, just purely for its racing abilities.

And this category is single-handedly stolen by Yamaha for its super-miniature versions. Pleasure to race in R-15, FZs and add the double-eyed Fazer to it. "Yes! Yamaha". The benchmark of true racing.

>=180cc && <=250cc

Bajaj: Pulsar180, Avenger200, Pulsar220

TVS: Apache RTR180

Hero Honda: Karizma

Kawasakhi: Ninja

Pulsar180, truly the Definitely Male than its 150cc. Racing is so easy in this bike that you actually forget the speed at which you are travelling.

Pulsar220 looks odd, but, is giving a good fight to Karizma. Girls with racing IQ will prefer their men to have atleast either of them.

The first cruise bike till now - Avenger. Riding Avenger is like faking orgasm. One does not get the cruise feel if you are tall. And short guys, have a better chance of hitting on a girl with this.

RTR180 stands firmly with its tag "Racing DNA Unleashed". Certainly, it has.

Karizma is good with Hrithik on it, but, guys if you love racing, Ninja is on its way on Indian roads.

With one of these bikes you are sure to find a hottie sitting behind.

>250cc:

Royal Enfield: Classic350, Classic500, ThunderBird Twinspark, Electra, Machismo350, Machismo500

The final category on Indian roads. Here, it is not whether the bike suits you or not, it is about whether you suit the bike. Royal Enfield, truly dons this category. Macho guys, who are speed+long distance travel. I think you get what I mean. Travel is made so easy that you only get the best out of it. Girls should prefer guys with cruises because, they are secure, they are costly and they are definitely the head-turner. No matter at what speed you go, you will receive attention. You will become popular because of your bike and of course because of your girl.

When I conclude this, I have ridden almost all the bikes mentioned above, but, there is a special place in my heart for one of the best inventions in Indian Racing- Yamaha RX100. It is completely out of production, but, none can stop noticing you when you ride it on the road. Yet, my dream of riding a RX100 eludes me still and the perfect woman too....

The real-life avatar..

James Cameroon's Avatar - A massive hit of the year and has mind-boggling collections all over the world. Is it only on the screen or does it happen in real-life?

I will take you through to a strikingly similar, with just the names-changed version of real-life happenings that I saw and see with my own eyes every day.

Place:

Pandora, a moon of the planet Polyphemus, some 4.3 light years away from the earth.

Orissa, a state in the country India, some 3.5*10^-10 light years away from Pyramid of Giza. (Pyramid of Giza chosen for obvious reasons).

Mineral:

Unobtanium, which can save the earth from present energy crisis.

Bauxite, which can flood the earth with more automobiles and aircrafts that cause these energy crisis.

Organisation:

Resources Development Administration, carrying out the Pandora mission.

Vedanta Resources Plc., carrying out the Vedanta Aluminium Project.

Affected:

Na'vis of the Pandora, especially the Omaticayas in particular, whose sacred "Hometree of pure sprits of Eywa" are encroached upon. HomeTree rests upon Pandora's biggest deposit of Unobtanium.

Common people of Orissa on the whole, with Dongaria Kondhs in particular, with their sacred mountain Niyamgiri hills in jeopardy. Niyamgiri has the biggest desposit of Bauxite.

Currently, Vedanta's Alumina-Operations have come to a standstill because of the agitations caused in the Niyamgiri mining area. But, since they already have an 0.28 mtpa aluminium smelter in full operation in Jharsuguda, Orissa, they are importing alumina from Australia. Someone, who is unsure about the way the mining rights case is going to go, won't produce aluminium at $1793 per ton when the market selling price is only $1953 per ton. The ulterior motives and hidden truth of bribes is clearly seen.

The undertaken CSR activities aren't that wonderful enough, to keep the agitators pacified. Now, caught in the wrong foot, the only safety net is the Indian government, which is going to turn the verdict in Vedanta's favor. That is because, if a person who sold Aluminium scraps from an Aluminium PSU - BALCO can woo the government to buy-out the same, with the then political family's support, he can repeat it once again, as the family hasn't changed in any dimension.

The factual analogies are clearly stated. And now comes the time, where we face the harsh reality that, it is not a happy ending in the real-life when compared to the reel-life. The Supreme Court is on the brink of issuing "No Objection" certificate to Vedanta Resources to resume mining in the Niyamgiri hills.

With money anything is possible, especially in India, as people's sentiments are secondary. Those of you, who think, "let the tribal people relocate" and support the argument that "let the tribal people step back to prosper the Industrial Revolution", I just want you to think about a situation and answer honestly. If there is a new metro rail project coming up in your city and the route that has to be laid is such that, your house which was built by your father's hard-earned money or an ancestral home has to be demolished, wouldn't you feel pathetic?? It is all the same.

I know when someone higher up the hierarchy reads this article, my appraisal or even my job is at stake. But, let me tell you, with my experience here in this place, I sometimes feel that uprising of Maoists is very much justified (although I don't support their acts). When they mean that they are poor and deprived, they are. I am very much aware that the money paid by Vedanta has given me the liberty to travel places, read literatures and write my opinions. But, someone has to be on the other side to deliver things to the world. My actions may not bring a change right now, but, my words would do, because I know this message would spread so that people will join me to oppose the non-sense and deliver a diplomatic solution to the affected.

The 4th idoit..

DISCLAIMER: Do not ask me the authenticity of the title. This was suggested by my "friends", who desperately wanted me to write on a person whom they affectionately call "4th idoit". I will direct the Copyrights commission towards "my friends" if they feel that I am violating the norms. All characters in this story resemble very close to reality and any resemblance to people living or dead (let peace be upon them) is purely intentional.

There was this guy, the hero or rather the comedian of the story. His name was/is Sushil Gulati. He was/is the fun-loving guy who spent/spend most of his valuable time doing things which made any value-addition. He was/is smart, intelligent and handsome. He was/is a great guy to hang out with and a real crazy dude for bikes. After one and a half years of work, he was not sure of where he wanted to go. Not because he was confused with no choices, but, with plethora of choices. Anything that stands on the face of the earth interested/interests him and a very friendly guy. People love to talk to him and spend time with him always.

As his life was rollicking ahead, it so happened in his life that he met a good-looking girl called Pooja Tiwari. But, as he clearly explained to his mates that it was pure acquaintance that they meet each other, which his friends did not believe. The very thought that he went out for luncheons made them think that even and finally Sushil has fallen for Pooja.  He tried explaining, but in vain. The acquaintance-turned-friendship relation was a small stint as Pooja had to move on in life. But, out of so many co-incidences, it so happened, that Sushil was equally frustrated with his work-life. To be precise, about his own value-addition. The pinnacle of his frustration was on the day Pooja was leaving the glorious city of Jharsz D.S, Odisha County, RoI. So, as small minds think/thought, it was because of the reason that she is leaving that Sushil is so frustrated. His friends coined him the name "4th idoit" in sync with the movie "3 idiots" being released and the instances that structured his part of life. In the world's eyes, Sushil remains a "4th idoit".

As he was/is a good writer too, they asked him to pen down his thoughts as well. Being a very close friend of Sushil, I tell you that Sushil is innocent and will like to be a 4th idoit. After all, people love to spend time with the 4th idoit and he rocks. And Pooja, if you reading this, do not call Sushil as "4th idoit", as you know the truth. :)

The 4th R

After reading “2 states”, I have to write this – Yeah, We Tamilians, affectionately known as Madrasis are unique in every way. Just like a Punjabi, Marati, Malayalee, etc. None of the other 27 states speaks his tongue. But, a tad different from others, a Madrasi’s only weapon to counter-strike the Rest of India is his English. Well, Hindi is the Greek that he had been listening from the North Indians in The Madras state. My own experience of being a South Indian in North India for the very first time kicked the gut out of me. The same applies to a NI as well, when he visits the foreign states down south. Maybe, gut is not the word that should have been used, but, a euphemism does sound better. After all the crap that Indians listen from fellow-Indians, we feel like expatriates in our own country.

And, I just took a break after completing the previous paragraph to get some chicken. On the way to the chicken shop, I kind of very slightly skid my Bullet. In vain, I attracted attention from two drunkards on a “Definitely Male”. They chased me down till the butcher’s shop and abused me after confirming the fact that I am not from Odisha. Their feints were scary and the question of why they went that far is best answered, as they guessed that I am a Madrasi (although, I don’t look like one).

Thinking about a united India is a Utopian concept which has to be changed time and again. Aptly, should be changed according to the whims and fancies of our beloved politicians. Whether they learnt discipline and ethics from British is one I am confident that they haven’t, but, they have very well learnt the technology of “Divide and Rule”.

Indians are the most racist people in the world. This statement made by an Indian himself, iterates the fact that we are. Black and White, but, who remembers that we are all brown? We point at the species “down under” and call them racists for their attacks. I am not justifying their act, but, we need to be clean ourselves to point fingers at others.

The second question anyone faces is the place they hail from than how much educated they are. People are more curious to categorize people on the basis of region than intellectuality.

Indians are brilliant. They don’t ask the forbidden question – that of the religion. I brand them brilliant not because that top brass of any Fortune 100 company consists of Indians, but, because they quickly guess the guy’s faith with their name. The secondary branding that they go for, roots from the name. Did I miss the so-called “title” part? You must have guessed it being an Indian.

The 3Rs of Indians – Race, Region, Religion. We desperately need the 4thR – Redemption. We need to redeem ourselves from the narrow-mindedness of our thinking. The character – We all are Indians – has to be inculcated. I am not asking a Gujarati to marry an Assamese. But, I am asking you to think that, if such a thing happens, don’t embarrass them with questions. Accept them, respect them and appreciate them. They are the brave souls of the nation. Be proud that they are one of the few people like me to unite the nation (The 3Rs is applicable to me as well). We are not a Dravidian or an Aryan, a Madrasi or a Bangali, a Muslim or a Hindu, but, a redemption to seek – Indians.

Rob-ile

This has been a long battle between me and the mobile phones that I have used over a period of four and a half years. I would not say I have been lucky, but, I have been horrendously amazed at the turn of events each time my phone was conked or chose its own way.

Chronological order:

1. Nokia 1100 - Oct, 2005.

My first phone cost me Rs.4500. The Made for India model was just launched and was an instant hit. I loved the phone very much. It had a torch and freaking monophonic tones. I used to fight with my mates over the Signature tones. One day in November, all of a sudden it was stolen from my hostel room. The irony being, a BenQ color mobile was kept right next to it, but, the thief loved mine.

2. Nokia 6670 - Dec, 2005.

After my first mobile loss, I wandered without a mobile for a month. It was a very difficult period. Finally, after lots of persuading and fights with my mom, she agreed to get me a Nokia 6600. I went to the shop and found the 6670 model attractive and bought that. It cost me Rs.13000. Never mind. Exactly a month after that, I drowned my new phone in the beaches of Mangalore. As expected the salts corroded the mother board and it was unusable.

3. Nokia 1100 (Second hand) - Jan, 2006.

It cost me Rs.1200. Was handy and useful until the BL-5C burst while charging. A different turn of events this time. The whole phone was shattered into pieces and also my plug-points.

4. Nokia 1108 - Jun, 2007.

This phone cost me Rs. 3000. It was a good one with moon-light display. Setting new records in the Snakes game was the favorite pass-time. One fine day in Jul, 2007 it slipped out of hands from first floor and LCD was damaged and there goes my fourth phone out of order. Anyhow, I was using it for some three months and the phone conked when I gave it for repairing.

5. Sony Ericsson w200i - Sep, 2007.

One lovely phone. It cost me Rs.5300. I thought my phone jinx is over and constrained only to Nokia as this was a super-specialty phone. No problems whatsoever. Had all the functions except for bluetooth which pissed off many of my friends. Was very much contended with it until, a thief broke into my house and robbed me off my personal diary on 16th, June, 2009. There ends my saga of events with the only phone in my hand being Nokia 1202C now.

6. Nokia 1202C - May, 2009

Cost - Rs.1350. Just for the plain fact that this phone offers brilliant battery back, I chose to buy and use it instead of my w200i then. But, out of no option now, I am forced to use this.

Total expense on mobile phones till date - Rs. 28350.00

What more can I ask for..??

Ithu namma Ooru, maamu.. (Its our city, dude..)

Its five years now. Five long years since I have taken the internship with the Nomadic Society of India. And the internship is still going on, on and on and on. I was just a small little fellow in a big city. The city that is known for Idly, Marina, Super Kings and me. The city renamed after the Chennappa Nayaka who ruled it as the history would say it. But, I liked the old name, the ethnic heart-beat name as we are called, all over the world - Madrasi. Madras refers to the illicit yet camouflaged mix of MAD RAScals called by the British for their violent revolt down south. What is there in a name, but, we all love it. The new name is not that bad, but, people still love calling Kolkata as Calcutta; Mumbai as Bombay and Bengalluru as Bangalore. It is stylish, vibrant and pronounceable by all ethnic cultures.

This is a crazy capital. Just like the others, but, a little different in its own way. The city with the second longest beach in the world (Marina), the largest bus terminus in Asia (CMBT), the biggest eatables trading centre in India (Koyambedu Kothalchavadi), the most crowded place in anywhere in the world (T.Nagar), the most organized traffic police (CCTP), and the least affected city in terms of terrorism. Potentials untapped, yet, magnanimously giving space to every other person from the world to share his joy. Life seems so easy here. Might also be because it is my hometown. People say it is difficult to survive as people do not understand Hindi. The only counter-argument is when our language is one of the most primitive ones, even older than Sanskrit, why would we adopt a second fiddle? Yeah, we are international. The common people understand and will help you in English next to Tamil. All direction boards contain English to make it easy for everyone. It just inculcates the habit of going international to any illiterate who steps into.

I miss living in the city. The Marina, Elliot's beach, Chepauk, Mount road, Ritchie street, T.nagar, Anna flyover, Meenambakkam, 100 feet road, ECR, MRTS, Wandalur Zoo, Egmore Museum, Snake park, Satyam Cinemas, Ega theatre, Spencer Plaza, Koyambedu market, Ambattur Estate, PH Road, Aminjikarai, Vyasarpadi, Murugan Idili Shop, CMBT, Pallavan, Anna Tower, Crescent ground, my home in Razack Garden, everything. The best place in the universe just remains a part of my memory.

I write this now as a part of my internship of knowing the world better, sitting in my balcony watching the tall chimneys smoke and assimilating the bitter fact that I would not lead a normal life in the place, closest to my heart. Whenever I am there, I will be what I am, because I know for a fact that I don't need to wear a mask there. CHENNAI ROXXXXXX..