Tuesday, July 5, 2011

What did you want to become when you grew up?

What did you want to become when you grew up? A doctor, an engineer, a fighter pilot, army officer, teacher, social worker, farmer, dancer, actor, secret service operator, detective, forensic scientist, astronaut, prime minister of India, tourist guide? What?
I wanted to become a doctor, because that is what I heard everyone talk about and then I did have a fascination of knowing how our body works and the general biology in nature. Obviously at that time I did not know that a general fascination with biology does not necessarily mean that you are cut out to be a doctor. I also did not know at that time the amount of continuous studies and hard work needed to be a doctor on paper and further studies and hard work needed to be a doctor people would like to go to (despite the fact that doctor to patient ratio in India is quite poor). Coming back to the point, I wanted to be a doctor for many years at a stretch and every time the friendly neighbor aunty would ask me my prompt reply used to be “Doctor”. As I grew and knew more about the world, met more people, made new friends, I realized I wanted to be a doctor no more, at least not every time the question was asked. Now I wanted to be an engineer, because, well that needed logic, and was considered the new cool thing and yes, most boys wanted to be one and I wanted to beat boys in all that they wanted to do. So engineer it was, and then I realized I could really become a good one as I was always logical had a natural curiosity to know things and could pick up complicated theories and understand them. However, I could not still understand why we had to sit with a pen and paper and practice mathematics. I found it most interesting to read the solutions to tricky questions and see the mystery unfold. And read I used to, making it difficult to complete all mathematics questions one time. I did manage to get much more than passing marks in mathematics and would often solve problems for friends, but never was the top shining student in the class. That is when I realized maybe engineer is not such a good idea. Doctor always remained as something that I would not mind to be. But as I grew, I read and what I read influenced my decisions to be different things when I grew up. I wanted to be a rebel after good doses of history chapters on various revolutions that brought about changes in governments in different countries. I wanted to be a leader after couple of chapters on Indian independence struggle in 7th and 8th classes. I wanted to be a detective, a secret service agent, a forensic expert, after I was introduced to a taste of fiction early in my school life.... and then everything changed. I could not hold on to one vocation for more than a fortnight or three weeks depending upon the time I needed to finish one book. I wanted to be an actor one week, a painter in another, a farmer the week after. In anything I chose, I would dream of making a difference, as an actor, I would take the standards of acting so high with attention to detail (that even Amir Khan would be put to shame if he knew). As a painter I would be the best and yet want to remain unknown to the world, happy and content only in my art and nothing else. As a farmer, I was the one to introduce the latest equipment and technology to give the best yields and be the top contributor for green revolution.
I was a prisoner, a criminal, a con, a politician (well the two are the same... at the time I did not know that), an army officer, a pilot, a scientist, an astronaut, an alien, a reincarnation, a mutant, an architect, a poet (all I can say is I did not know that u had to be born one...). Yes, with time the distinction between reality and stupidity was blurring fast, and I knew that one thing I will always be was ‘a day dreamer’..... And always be happy, no matter what my circumstances are. Because, I knew that I could be anything. I also knew that I will do anything that I did become to the best of my abilities because that was the only consistent thing in everything I wanted to become. But nothing prepared me for what I had to finally take up. I became an analyst. I was nothing like the things I wanted to be when I was growing up. It was exciting, but did not provide me an opportunity to save the neighborhood from enemy attacks, ate up all my time for daydreaming (leaving me with no new ideas on what I could be). The good thing about being an analyst was I could see any data presented to me in hundred different ways. I could be creative at times. I had to fight to meet tight deadlines. I had to come up with solutions to tricky questions. I had to work under resource crunch. I had to keep some things confidential (not really secret service style). I had to read and learn new things.... I was everything I wanted to be, of course in a much mellowed down way... but I was everything I wanted to be.... I still am an analyst and am afraid will never cease to be one even after I stop working. So what did you become?

Saturday, September 26, 2009

"No one can like to like you..." The music floated through the wondow and the lyrics started registering in her subconscious mind. Her lips twitched forming a faint smile. I stopped my reading and looked at her. The sight reminded me of the times when we looked at rainbows. She and me and how we wondered as kids that the sky smiles so colourfully while its shedding tears... Keeping the book aside I bent to wipe a tear that had rolled down her cheek from her closed eyes. The smile continued. I knew the song was causing pain and so was the voice but I couldnt let myself switch off the radio. As long as there was that smile, I knew she would handle her tears and pain well. Dint she always do it well? Hadnt she succeeded in fooling all about the heartbreak she felt. Even me!!! and thats what dirves me crazy, why could I see beyond that smile... the smile which was so easy to come.. so easy... a practiced subconscious smile I now know.. just like cycling. I was busy I agree but... I could have stopped.. looked more closely.. once atleast once... now maybe its late.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

I survived... yet again!!!

I cannot help but write my thoughts on what my numb mind saw and heard on television the last three days. I saw, I heard and what played in my mind was a different story. I do not know why but all my mind could actually see was the images of a destroyed war-struck Afghanistan, as potrayed in the book – “A thousand splendid suns’. I can’t help but dread the possibilities of India turning out to be a disaster story like that. I may be stretching my imagination a bit too far, but isn’t the best way to plan is to plan for the worst? Isn’t that is how the wars are won? Isn’t this how we should as a country prepare ourselves? There I go on again, but these are some of the questions that come to my mind.
Experiencing, discussing, accepting and forgetting such attacks seem to be becoming a way of life here. I cannot even remember the last time blasts made news in India. This is a scary thought. After all how can we solve a problem if we fail to remember? But then, remembering alone doesn’t do any good does it? Neither does writing blogs on this subject. What about cribbing every time a security guard at a movie hall asks to check your bag? What about getting impatient when security personnel demand your id to be displayed in office? Does this help at all? I have always understood that these measures are important and have tried to co operate, but despite the understanding there have been times when I have been irritable on being faced with these situations. If nothing else, these pictures of horror flashed on the TV screens are going to make me more compliant to security measures (whatever little) being taken in the country.
There have been times when we have laughed off the lags in security in the past, only this time am sure there is no one even smiling, except ofcors who wrote death in this drama. I distinctly remember how we made a joke of an incident where when one of our colleagues just walked straight into a Hyderabad cricket ground with the security guards shouting from behind for her bag to be checked. She of course was unaware of the guard and therefore did not bother to stop. Now I wonder what if it wasn’t a normal person unaware of the surroundings and in a rush to watch a cricket match for the first time. Is this how easy for someone to breach highest of security arrangements? The incident did seem funny at the time. Now, after witnessing the terror attack for three days it doesn’t seem so funny.
And now as I sit at 1.30 am in the morning, my mind is playing games with me. Some I sit and try to see forward in the future, and I see streets with blast debris, I see ladies in their darkened houses grieving about their recent losses and taking pride in telling the stories of their old ones. I see a house with smoke coming out of it. Smoke not from the kitchen chimney, but from where just a missile hit it. I shake my head and I see a green valley. I see a girl standing near a stream, the sun turning the stream into sheets of gold. The girl turns and I see a smiling happy India, an India we made. I just want to close my mind, and freeze my thoughts on this happy scene. Freeze it and remember it. So that we know what we need to work at!
PS: Do read the book – A thousand Splendid Suns – by Khaled Hosseini

Monday, November 17, 2008

They say they say

I knew my end was near the day i became a no one in my own eyes. Human beings have a weird quality of believing things as true if they hear them more than a couple of times... and I for sure carry this trait of the human race. The truth after sometimes just ceases to matter and gets twisted out of proportion. What is left is the imaginative lies... And how does this affect us?... well I used to pride in being a very intelligent and strong of our kinds... but then when did I turn into this weak pathetic creature, cribbing at every possible opportunity... I dont know but then this reality has hit me hard in the face, and I have two options.. either I crib about the whole change in me or just start thinking in a logical way, not on how did it happen but how can I get back to the same old self i took pride in... The fact that I was able to acknowledge this change is a positive sign as it says that i still have hope... hope of survival.... survival in a world where the weak are reputed to get extinct at a pace that seems just a made up figure...

Me vs She

No matter how lucky I am, she still seems luckier to me...
There are certain things that always affect you when you are least expecting…
On that rainy evening, when we all were out to have a nice time, I came face to face with these two little girls… One had a huge bunch of red balloons, which she was trying to sell off, and one with cute pink ribbons in her hair… they were the same age, same size, yet so different and as soon as the girl with the pink ribbons in her hair stepped out of her car, she saw the girl with the red balloons.. And it made me smile to see an expression of longing flash on the little girl’s face… It was actually funny, this girl thought the other one to be so lucky, after all didn’t she have a whole bunch of balloons in her hands, she looked at her parents.. with those eyes, begging for just a few of those balloons, and was just led inside the restaurant… the girl kept looking at the balloons … as they slowly disappeared from her sight… I was quite amused and turned back to look at the other little girl, and just froze, not because I saw sad eyes on a young face, but because what I saw was an expression-less face that had aged beyond its years…