Whoever said Love is blind, was Blind.......

I have and I think many of you would have, noticed ill-matched pairs and would have said love is blind. By the phrase "ill-matched" pair I mean, a beautiful girl and a not so great looking guy (for guys) and the vice-versa for girls. You would have wondered, "If this girl/guy can get a pair why can't I??". I don't know how many of you had had this feeling, but I surely have had. I have seen such pairs and have passed my expert comments about the match they make.

The other day I was getting down from the train and I noticed a pair sitting on the stone bench holding hands and smiling. I couldn't help myself from giving them a longer-than-usual glance. There soemthing unusual about the pair. They were holding hands and were smiling and talking. They both were also visually impaired too. I have heard people talk about chemistry, but there I saw. There was an unusual bondage between them. They don't know how the other person looks like. They don't know whether the other person has dark skin, long nose or big eyes. They don't know how beautifully the other person was smiling. They didn't know how the other person glowed in his/her presence. But still there was this strong bonding between them which left me spell bound. Do they ever think about all this I wonder?? We with the 2 beautiful eyes look at other people and pass our so-called "expert comments".

Looking at the visually impaired couple, my perspective towards "ill matched" couples has changed. It is always not so corporeal. Does it really matter to know what the other person looks like??? I was compelled to draw the following comparison after the eye-opening experience .I dont know how many would agree, nevertheless.......

When a pregnant lady, after the nine month ordeal, when she delivers the baby would have a feeling "The wait was really worth it". She would be thinking it is one of the most beautiful babies ever delivered in that hospital, with the nurse agreeing to it as she always does. If you look at the baby, you would find it to be a bag bones, covered with body fluids, screaming at the top of its voice and looking not-so- attractive. You look at the mother's eyes. You see love. Transpiring between 2 souls not realising what they see physically. Whoever said love is blind, was Blind.........

Ouch! that hurts!!!!

Leaving early from office I was finding it difficult to walk to the station. The shoe I was wearing was really small and my large feet were finding it difficult to accomodate in the space provided for them. My little was hurting and I was slightly limping and trying really hard not to limp. It is pretty much hard to pretend not to do when you are actually doing it. I was sulking about the rotten shoe I had worn and my feet were in great pain. But I had to walk to the station and so I continued walking without limp while was actually limping. Quite complicated thought it may be.

I reached the station and was waiting on the platform for the ever crowded train. My cribbing has reached new levels after I have come to Mumbai. I have a problem with everything I see, I do, I experience. Everything and anything about Mumbai frustates me.

The train rumbled into the station with a moderate crowd much to my surprise and I boarded the train and started listening to the radio. I was listening to a remix and tapping my foot and ouch! Ok stand still I commanded myslf, when a hand touched my arm.( I was standing near the door because thats where the radio reception is clear.) I turned and saw an elderly person standing behind me. "Matunga?" he asked me. I shook my head and moved aside. He was a man of about 70 and looked very frail. He hung his walking stick on his hand and with the support of the vertical bar he propelled himself forward. The train halted in the platform and I saw that the platform was very low and the distance between the footboard of the train and the platform was about foots space. The man slowly lowered himself and moved at a measured pace. Standing alone on the platform he looked left and right and the started to move in the direction of the stairs.

I was watching all this from the train. I started to wonder at the man. He was so frail. God knows from where he was coming. He has to climb the stairs to the bridge and then go home. At 70 when he is able to do it then why I am cribbing at 22 and that too for a defective shoe!!!!! Hmph!!!!!

And then..............

Ouch! Idiot whats the hurry? I am already in pain and this idiot beside me has to step on my foot. Idiots. Always in hurry. I hate this city. I hate what I see, what I do and I hate what I am experiencing. This awful pain in my feet.

Rotting till I die

How does a person rot to death? Now please don't think that I am a psycho. I was watching a movie in which a guy dies in a similar way. What would it be like? Chained to rocks in a dark cave, hands and legs tied, mobilty restricted to only a few centimeters, what can he do? What will be his thoughts? A attempt at getting into his shoes ...........


**** **** ****. Why did I ever do that? What was THAT? There are so many things that I did. What led me into all this?? The smuggling? The murders? the Rape? teh Treachery? the bribes? the slfishness? the money? the greed? the theft? the adultery? the lies? the copying in the exams? the forgery of dad's signature in the progress card? the mangoes in the neighbouring garden? the kid i ki9cked in the football game? WHAT IS IT? Why am I here? Where did it all start? Why does it need to end like this? Is it the ending? Or just the begining? Aaaaaah! these mosquitoes. **** they are driving me crazy. Thank God there are no rats. Wait did I just hear one?

Where was I? Aah yeah where did it all start?

Is it all my mistake?? No they are not. Why should they be my mistakes. Circumstances drove me to all this. Yeah thats tru. Circumstance, this soceity, the intitution ... all of them. Was I born bad? No!!! they changed me.

Wait. I am in a hopeless situation and still I am afraid to come in terms with the reality.There were umpteen chances for me to change and come on the right track. Or that is what they call it. Eh! Right track. Simply because that everyone says that murder is bad I am bad. Why even the judge murders so many mosquitoes sitting on that chair in the process of sentencing someone to death. Eh! hypocrates.
What is happening to me? Am I going crazy? Is the thought of death driving me crazy? No No No It is I who will drive death craxy. Yes I will do that till death will itself remove these chanins on me. Wait what did I hear? A rat???
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Eh! where was I? Wait what was the last number I counted? **** I had fallen asleep. I will have to start all over again. What have I done with my life? I had a beautiful home. Coem weekends and mom used to chase me around the backyard for the oilbath and dad used to cheer me to run. The friends I used to play cricket with and with whom I used fight with if I were out. It all started then. The others never cribbed after getting out. But it used to be fun. All the fist fights and all and only to return back for the next match. The time I spent in school flying paper planes in class. The one that was caught in the princi's hair. He he what fun it was that day. The days in college spending in the canteen and sharing one plate of the hopeless fried rice with 5 friends.

Then it started. Why should I think of it now. Oh God there it is. There is another one here. Oh God. What is that sound. Is it a truck? No it is the rain and it driving in all the rats. Oh no. Not here go there. There is nothing here. Go go go go go go go go go go. Ouch Ouch..............

Step Moms

I dont know how many have u have watched Susan Sarandon, Julia Roberts starrer Step Mom. I have watched it many times and have cried everytime I saw it. It is a kind of movie which chokes your throat and brings water to your eyes.

For many people who know me this may be a shock. I lost my mom when I was 11. A very unfortunate incident that changed our lives very much. I was young and the loss affected me much lesser than how it would have affected my dad and sister. My sister, she was there as a pillar of support. I would turn to her for everything I needed. She was very strict but thats what has brought me to what I am.

My dad remarried a few years later. There were many apprehensions to what the new lady would be like. There goes a saying that when God closes a door he opens another. For me he opened two. One was my sister's revelation as a very compassionate companion and the other was our second mother - I will not call her my step mother. She is our second mother.

She accepted us as we are and there were a few ripples at the start but they became a matter of no concern later. There is bound to be these comparisons between our moms and that is natural and human. But as the person she is she is the best and we accepted as she is. I dont remember a day when she would have scolded me. She has been very compassionate and she has been the best a second mom can be. I really thank god for what happened to us. I always keep saying that i dont have any luck in life. Maybe getting her was the best Lady Luck could do to us.

My second step mom, my sister. She is the source of my energy, my dumping ground of tempers, my idea of the best girl, my pillar, my weakness and whatever I am is what she is. She is just there whenever I want and the best thing that happened to me ever.

I will never ever complain in my life of bad luck. Lady luck has smiled her best smile at me and I should be grateful for that.

What programming does to you!!!

There were times when life was not complicated at all. I used to live life free of any worries. Exceptions were automatically handled at run-time. Waking up early had always been a problem. The sleeping thread in me will always experience a delay. But still there was this trigger from my sister which used to wake me up and i would start running. Never have i calculated the time to reach the station to go to college. I was there always there on time and catch the same train everyday. Ofcourse there were few exceptions that were properly handled in the later part of my journey when I had to take the bus to reach college on time.

College was no problems. The expected 8 hour ordeal with god-sent breaks in between. Walking to the canteen with 15Rs in the pocket never made us worry. even if there is no money there was this parallel thread running along with me Rajesh, my friend who always had the buffer to provide me the extra money i wanted. Nowadays I keep doing these frequent visits to the ATM to draw money, the three digit figure that i draw dwindling the minute i leave the place.

There were no qualms about availability of food. it is not now too. But there is always this initialising of the order to the waiter and the availability of resources to make the dish i request for. Gone are those days when my mom used to prepare meals and there was never this null pointer exception thrown.

My dad always used to say that i dont stay at home and he is not able to talk to me properly. But now I am the one waiting for the connectivity to the database of emotions(MY DAD!!!!!!!). Even he is getting held up with his own work. There is just not enough space in the bufferpool I think. So what do I do??? I ping him every now and then and then he responds after a delay.

There is used to be days when I had to answer my sister and how much I used to dread those moments. But now she is my garbage collector and that she does so perfectly fine that my mood gets refershed once i finish talking to her.

One and a half years into the software industry all I do is now exception handling and troubleshooting. I have to plan my resources and keep putting these try catches before every action i do so that there is no exception.

I have forgotten English. I have learnt JAVA (Just Another Vague Acronym).