The fights we fight..

The male ego is a wondrous thing. No one can explain quite how or even why it functions. It's just something that has evolved and grown over the years along with larger brains and the opposable thumb.

The quest to become the alpha male has been one that transcends age, species, geography, race, colour and any other criteria for differentiation except for that of sex. We men indulge in our own little competitions every day, most times, without even being aware of it.

Just yesterday I found myself in the most interesting little battle with the guy sitting next to me in the bus from Mangalore to Bangalore. First of all, this dude steals my seat. He sat next to the window, which was actually the seat that had been assigned to me. But this being a win-win situation (since I prefer the aisle seat), I let things be. But what got to me, strange as it may seem, was that he was intruding into my leg space. Since the combined effects of evolution and civilization have denied us the traditional mechanism of "territorial pissing" (in the words of the late Mr Cobain),the bus makers have , in the design of the seats themselves, clearly defined a demarcation between the section of leg room that was his, and the space that was for me. And what does this man do? He placed his right foot right on top of the divider, allowing a centimeter or two of his foot to enter into my "territory".

He had just violated the most basic of all animal rules. Respect thy neighbour's space! Since I had disarmed myself (read taken off my shoes for a nice night of sleep), I could not nudge his foot out of the way. Had I chosen this particular method to try and win back my honour and prestige, he might just get the wrong idea!
So left with no other option, other than telling him to get his "#%#$@@$ leg outa my space!!", which would seem silly, I temporarily resigned to the fact that he had won this battle. But the war would be mine.

And that was when I noticed that the mother of all disputed territories; which people fight over at home, in school, at colleges, at theatres and at any place where there are two seats next to each other; the 'armrest' had not been pulled down and claimed.

Before he could realise it, I struck my deadly blow. I pulled down the armrest, and claimed it for myself! Hence forcing him to shrug his shoulders in shame and defeat, while I sat like a king...on my throne, both arms properly rested, even though my legs were denied the freedom they yearned.

Soon, that as mine as well. Once I was sure he was not distracted on the phone or any other media, I looked down at his foot, let out an irritated "tsk" and stared at him, forcing him to retreat in haste, surrending the few centimeters of lef space he had earlier captured. Victory was mine.

I slept in peace,my male ego satisfied.
I would remain forever, the irritating dude who sat next to the poor chap who had no leg space because his bag was under his seat.

Roots and Branches

I guess it's that time in my life when I'm done being the dependent and have graduated to the one others depend on. I think that explains why,lately, I've been suffering from a case of acute Nostalgia. The triggers for these attacks come in any and many forms. Today I began reminiscing of my school days when I saw a group of school children playing cricket. I don't even like cricket that much !

But over the past few months, I've realized that nothing else can transport me to another time and place quite like Music can. (I capitalize Music for the same reason we capitalize the H in He when we refer to Him! For that is the power of Music). So many times it has been, that I have found myself back in time, feeling those exact same feelings I felt that day to which my memories have taken me; triggered by a song on the TV or the radio.

Some songs bring back memories of times I've spent with close friends. Some take me back to my roots. Some remind me of who I once was. Some remind me of the best of times I've spent with my family. Some are the songs that put my niece to sleep.Some are the songs I sang to my love.


One of the songs I associate with my initiation to Music would be 'Home on the range'(http://www.musicanet.org/robokopp/usa/ogivemea.mid) . A simple song we were taught in the Western Music class in my old school.

Another song that means the world to me is Def Leppard's 'Two Steps Behind'. Because this is the first song I ever sang in a Band, and also the first song I also played guitar to in a band. (Different bands,differnt time, different places, same name - Inferno.)

Yesterday on VH1, The Fugees' 'Killing Me Softly' reminded me of those days where I used to wait by the radio for hours at a stretch, empty cassette and trigger finger all set to record the latest chart toppers. Back then Pop, Rock, R&B, Rap .. they made no difference to me.

By traversing the path less traveled back then and swearing in to the world of Rock, did I turn more mature in my choice of Music, or did I put on my blinkers and stop looking around me?

What hits me hardest (and I'm probably repeating myself here, but I feel the need to, since I have strayed a bit) is the feeling of "SOB !! I used to like this stuff!" And more often than not ..."SOB !! I still like this stuff!"

Lately I've started liking other forms of Music as well. Rap, Hip-Hop, R&B, bollywood Music...and even though I hate to admit it in some cases, mainstream, heat and eat, open flap and pour - Pop.

So that may be why I've asked one of my best friend's Manu, also one of the most talented musicians I have had the privilege of knowing and playing Music with, to accompany me in playing songs that have meant the most to us. And we play this to the world.. enter Youtube.

We've uploaded one video so far. We recorded a shoddy version of Oasis' Do You Know What I Mean. Hopefully we can do a cleaner version of it soon.

Until then, any suggestions for songs you would like us to cover in acoustic will be welcome.

And let me sign off on this note. Please listen to Bob Marley. I've just begun to. And I don't intend on stopping.

And I'm back

It’s been a while ... if a year and a half can be called a while!

Why the sudden return you ask? (And I’m asking and answering this question because I know the imaginary followers of mine who I have conjured up to justify to myself that returning from my blog retirement is worth the effort, who eagerly await my next post, even for a over a year, will surely ask this question). Well, some of my friends are regular bloggers, and that again inspired the part-time writer in me (and by part-time, I mean once a year. And I say one year and not 1.5 because in November last year, I started another short-lived blog elsewhere) to blog once again. Plus, Veda, who’s like a kid sis to me, has been begging and pleading with me to start blogging again. (@ Veda: I know you just mentioned it offhand once or twice that I should perhaps blog more often, but let’s imagine you begged and pleaded with me. Our little secret!).

And hence, I visited my blog, and ended up reading some of my old posts. Like I’ve said before, this blog was meant to be a diary of sorts; for me to look back on and smile about. And in that sense, it has been a success.

Getting into IIM-A had seemed like such a giant achievement at that point of time. I’ve told a couple of people this, but before we got into IIM-A, it seemed like the greatest achievement possible. But once we entered those gates, and were ground into the system and IIM-A became WIMWI for us, it felt surprisingly normal. I look back at my posts retelling my entire CAT story and smile at how my perspective has changed.

Sure, getting in has changed my life in more ways than one. [And one more significant than all, more than the huge impetus I hope it lends my career {hope being the keyword here (I notice my school mathematics classes coming into use right here …Round brackets within curly brackets within square brackets.i.e’[{(_)}]. The correct ordering of brackets within an equation. I feel proud of myself! See, this blog is informative as well!)}. But that is a matter for another post, which I may or may-not eventually feel the inspiration to write.] But now all that seems a thing of the past. A part of my life that has gone by. Something I failed to enjoy as much as I could have…

But I’ve started to realize that this is how I feel about anything that was good in my life. ‘I could have done more!’

So I think, will I spend my entire life in eternal regret of what has gone by? Do I make a conscious effort to make the most out of every single day of my life? I could make a promise to do that, but I know I will fail in that attempt.

But what I can attempt to do, is write about stuff that happened in my life, that played a significant role in making me what I am. The people I’ve known, the places I’ve been, the sports I’ve played, the songs I’ve loved, and the ones I love.

So this entire post has played out in my mind as a press conference I’ve just called for, with the crowds thronging (the above mentioned imaginary readers) and cameras flashing, and mikes pointed at my face. (You may think … Really? Is he that zonked out? A press conference for a blog revival? To you I say, believe in Aaj Tak my friend.!)

So at the end of this aforementioned press conference I have just one thing to say… “I am Iron Man!”

P.S. : I just told one of my closest friends I was going to start blogging again, and when he asked why, I said “It felt nice to read my old posts again.”

And so I guess, that’s a major reason why I’m planning on writing again.