The Biscuit Story || A Walk to Remember

Yes this is a boy girl story or it will be more appropriate if I call it a baba – baby story. The protagonist is a three year old, not so cute boy, this is about his affections, his determination to walk the girl to her home; but what it turned out to be the longest walk taken by any human of that age in the part of our country known as Malout, a not so small town in Mukatsar district of Punjab.

September 1991, I was three year old, perfectly completing my duties of visiting my maternal grandfather’s house for the fourth time that year with my mother. Malout no matter how small it was or still is has always remained popular for punjabi salwar suits. So my mom, once in for all forgot about me and was busy shopping. However my aunty (Mausi/Masi *used interchangeably*) was in charge of me, as she didn’t had her own offspring at that time, she was too fascinated with the moves of a tiny but not so cute Satan.

Well perfectly speaking even if I don’t remember, I am sure that I was getting bored. Aunty wasn’t letting me down. Huh what she thought that I was a kiddo ,but this is what I might be thinking “come on mausi I am grown up now, I know how to piss and how to do number two by myself, without any help; but definitely I need someone to wash me off.”  Then she came the cutie pie in her mother’s lap, and upon watching me her mother started yelling at her baby, vekh chhota bachha- vekh chhota baccha (look at the small boy).  My luck favored me probably for the last time and she responded to her mother’s commands. Ah those eyes, lekin wo aankhen; aankhon me jhanken or behkayen mujhe (Those eyes force me towards insanity)

Soon my masi and that new aunty were busy discussing about some new suit designs. I as the ultimate opportunist got away from the claws, and got closer to the girl. Her name was guddu, (yeah I know every household in North India had/has/will have a guddu/kaku in their home at some point of time), but it was the sweetest thing I heard till then. We pretend to play with a toy for some time , but actually we were having some grown up talk.Then she started walking out, and towards her home, yes without her mother, so as a gentleman that I was, I decided to walk her. I secretly hoped that it would be my walk to remember.  There was a punjabi classic folk in the air pichhe pichhe aunda meri chal venda aayin ve (If you are following me, then watch my back).

Things that started well soon turned out to be bad. Her grandmother came out of nowhere, and picked her up. I decided to play smart, I didn’t want anybody to know of our love, so I started strolling aimlessly, but with one eye on my sweetheart. Before getting into her home, she gave me that assurance look, that insurance agents gave to their new baits. That look cast a spell on me, and I forgot about everything and I kept on walking, walking, and walking.

Back at home soon it was realized that the children are missing. The new aunty rushed towards her home and she found her guddu, but where was Ishu? My mother with all her perfect timing landed home, and inquired about me, the reply she got in return was a long, and loud howler from my masi. As a world class pessimist, my masi even made promises to give her first child to my mother. On the other hand I in my white Kurta Pyjama (starched white clothing) was inspecting the area like an MLA, until I felt a urge for something to eat.

The rescue squad (my mamas), were called into action. They went to every colony, of the town, and started announcing via loudspeakers of temples, and gurudwaras. They made a specific mention that the child was wearing a white kurta pyjama when he was last seen, but as he is a child with rowdy instincts it can be of any color by now. Finally somebody responded to the call, he came rushing towards a temple in Camp Area of Malout, met my uncle, told him that they found a child wearing lemon chiffon kurta pyjama, aimlessly strolling and asking for biscuits.

When my uncles found me I was happily sitting on a cot, surrounded by ladies, nibbling over a biscuit, in my brand new lemon chiffon kurta pyjama. I returned home a survivor, but I never met that girl again.

I walked for 1.1 KM only, but still it remains a walk to remember.

Epilogue:

  • My mausi still has two children, she constantly bickers over their habits, and sometimes wishes why one of them never got lost.
  • The grandmother of guddu, soon became most hated lady of the community as she ignored a helpless child on the road, but she still lives at the age of 79.
  • My mother keeps on visiting Malout thrice a year still, and unfortunately her salwar suit shop is still up and running.
  • Guddu got married in 2009, at time of marriage her weight was 81 KG, the lowest in last 5 years before her marriage. I wish her luck and I wonder at my luck.
  • I still have to go to the home where I was found nibbling, whenever I visit Malout. There is a helluva beautiful girl in that household, but I call her mother mausi.
  • I don’t eat biscuits, because if my mother asks me what do you want with tea, and suppose if I say biscuit then she will reply, “If you want biscuits, then why don’t you go to camp?”
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Liebster Blog Award

Pyjama Warrior has displayed overwhelming kindness shortly after Christmas to give me my first Liebster blog award. I have recently started and he is the best among the ones I follow. Read mind blowing posts by this man @ http://thepyjamawarrior.wordpress.com/.

As I have mentioned that I am a newbie in the circle of bloggers, I have quite a few to select from these are the four works of words I adore, and hope that I can be as good as them.

To all guys and girls who have written these awesome blogs, I urge please keep on writing. As you all are my inspirations.

Once again I would like to thank PYJAMA WARRIOR for the Liebster.

The Steps to accept the award:-

1. Say thank you to the person who nominated you in an acceptance post and mention the URL of their blog.

2. Include a snap of Liebster Blog Award in your acceptance post.

3. Nominate 5-7 blogs that have less than 200 followers, but who deserve more recognition according to you.

As I write today

As I write today, the year 2011 AD, is about to end.

Many will blow the horns about the things Homo Sapiens have achieved in the year going by, but a few will look back and ponder upon the losses and calamities that were brought upon the humanity by the same homo sapiens who claim to be wisest and smartest species ever to occupy a small planet, “Mother Earth” as we call it, which is a resident of the solar system of a comparatively smaller galaxy Milky Way.

All of us are good runners when it comes to something that provides us enjoy, happiness, wealth in short benefit; but our feet cease too move and what is more shocking that our mind hibernates when the matter relates to something which does not offer us direct profits.

We run after our governments to cut the prices as we can buy less with the same money with which we used to buy more, but we never walk forward to a man who never had a penny to eat a healthy dinner.

We run after our police, shouting their inability to cop with the crime and criminals, but the sound of a car security alarm irritates us. We never give it a shimmer of thought that somebody’s hard earned and  well invested money is about to be stolen.

We run after our employers for promotions, raises, bonuses, and blah blah, but often the donation boxes kept at the reception of our companies are filled up to 10% of their capacity, were we too rigid to have a stroll towards them.

We run after our politicians for being corrupt, we chastise them, we participate in marches against them, our walls are overfilled with words of anger against them; but the same us never hesitate to offer the green leaf to make ourselves bridges over blunders for which we should be accounted and punished for.

We run after comfort and coziness, impatient and irritated enough whenever we encounter a day of extra heat,cold, or rain, but we never contemplate about those breeds which no longer exist, because out greed contaminated the nature and ecology to an extent that they could not hold on.

We run away from all the above any many more problems within us, very shy to encounter them until they touch out fingertips, because it is too easy to ignore them unless it is the judgement day.

But we ignore a very simple fact, our life is not a sprint, it is a marathon. So running fast will not solve the problems for us. The word human has originated from dhghem which means Earth, and everything we are doing is against the Earth and its residents.

We all must have read that Problem lies within”  as is the “Solution“. So start introspecting and start changing, as a popular branch of Computer Science ADA (Algorithm Design and Analysis) provides a way of problem solving known as DP (Dynamic Programming). DP tells us that optimal solution of a problem can be derived by combining the optimal solutions of the sub-problems of that problem. Start adopting the dynamics of DP, and sooner or later we are gonna make a change, and hence a better world.

If we don’t take a serious diversion from our existing ways, then we will be very unlucky if we have to live beyond 2012.

I the IT guy

Hello brothers. As I write almost 700 million people work in the same industry as me, and from my statistics at least 66% of them are male (counted by sex not by sexual orientation); hence the figure comes out to be ~462 million, that is the number of brothers I have even though many of them will be as old as my uncles, but we shared, share and will be sharing some incidents, thoughts, and accidents, which are as universal as GMT. I attempt to write the plight in this manner:

I the IT guy,

I got selected into a company from a campus drive, so many were picked that the leftovers were the real privileged ones.

I the IT guy,

I always hoped and wished secretly that I will get my training at my preferable location as my seniors, but my wishes were declined as part of some heavenly conspiracy. Yet I booked my flight tickets with a zeal that can rarely be matched.

I the IT guy,

I always aspired for those cool cubicles, state of the art machinery, and cute coffee machines, but I got state of a fart (public toilet like) cubicles, cute machinery (inefficient), and cool coffee machines (so cool that they worked as per their wishes).

I the IT guy,

I the IT guy who could never get through a single chapter before the exam is lurking around the corner, was fed with so much of Java, SQL, and C++ during the training phase that I will be sick with the programming constipation throughout my life for sure and may be afterwards.

I the IT guy,

I again hoped against the hope that after training I will be allocated to the location of my choice, but I came face to face with the real world, when I was forced to land in a city where I could not understand a word.

I the IT guy,

I recollected my shattered spirit, and once again yearned for a project where I can show my real self; but I was forcefully included in the largest team called bench. Till date, I never understood why it is called bench, because during my tenure with it, I sometimes didn’t even find a empty stair to sit upon in the office, forget about a bench.

I the IT guy,

I got a project, as I had lost all my will to work by now; I was bound to be in a project of great importance to the company, yes IT companies have their own sense of “sense of humor”.

I the IT guy,

I joined my project. As usual against my wishes I got a production support project, night shift, seat next to the project manager (PM), no girl in the project, even no girl in the 20 yard radius from my seat, no cab facility, and no night shift allowance. I still thank that all night canteen which was more than 4 KM away from my office, but with all its unhygienic food it saved my life.

I the IT guy,

I sustained so many knowledge transfer sessions, that at a point in time I could not not spell my name. Every facilitator was a performer of the highest degree, destiny’s chosen child to enlighten the lowly souls, as per his/her thoughts. I was the mere mortal who was destined to die once, but died again and again in the holy name of KT.

I the IT guy,

I pushed myself beyond limits every time but always skipped the deadline. One day I understood the real meaning of deadline, which is “only dead can reach this line”.

I the IT guy,

I listened to a strange word one day, onsite. At first the very sensation of this word was delightful, I remember those goosebumps. The word became a paranoia, a thing like ghosts; everybody talks of them but nobody has seen them.

I the IT guy,

I received my goal sheet one day and I was bewildered. The things I am paid for are not my goals, and my goals are things which can do no profit to anybody. Still for the sake of a rating I did those certifications with the help of dumps, I copied those attributes from others, and I highly rated myself in every goal. The appraiser evaluation was the negation of all the aspirations.

I the IT guy,

I work hard, but I only expect a B band as best case scenario. It is nothing like that I am skeptical of my abilities, it is only that I am afraid of the side effects of a A. I always get a C, and the hike associated with this C, contradicts with the literal meaning of word hike.

I the IT guy,

I put more overtime hours than regular hours just for a rating of 4, I got 3 same as the other dude who used to come late and go early.

I the IT guy,

I was never good with girls, and strangely I liked all the girls as beggars don’t choose. I could never muster enough courage to go and propose one of them. If I would have, deep down I know they were too smart to marry a fellow IT human being. They had their targets in managers, doctors, MBAs, plumbers, electricians, rickshaw-pullers, i.e. anyone but IT guys.

I the IT guy,

I became synonym of donkey, dog, pig, horse with time. Maybe this was the example of multitasking which I never understood during my college days.

I the IT guy,

I saw several representatives of credit card companies giving lucrative, offers outside my office. I was annoyed with them, so I decided to tell them that they were standing outside an IT company, and the very next day came with a sigh of relief. They even took their pamphlets from the wall with them.

I the IT guy,

I was not feeling good one day so I tried to go home by nine o’clock, I got an excellent remark from my lead which I still treasure, “come on man, you are an engineer, you guys finished whole Lord Of The Rings(LOTR)  series in one night, now you could not stay back for one more hour.” That one hour my friends was larger than all the seasons of “Big Bang Theory” combined.

I the IT guy,

I can talk about anything and everything with anyone and everyone, but I always avoid the word salary in my conversations. It is my darkest secret, and I don’t want it to see the light of a day.

I the IT guy,

I smoke, I drink, I struggle, I die.

I the IT guy,

I never had a choice.

The Tasteless Tale of an Emotionless Dumbass

People often suggested or better I can say passed their judgement, about the lack of emotional quotient in me.

During the prime era of being a college student, I decoded the aforementioned statement as I am cooler than others, but during the penultimate semester I realized that being cool is an emotion too. So I am as cool as the δx or δy, both of them are used to represent infinitesimally small amounts, apparently.

I brought another alternate to fight the demons of being an in-emotional  being, which was “I am in Control”, and it was a solid addition to the arsenal. But sometimes it was needed to lose the control to get hold on the situation. Simply to say use the manly ego before the calmness of a saint (read turncoat).

With time the diplomacy which was a weapon of choice and produced pretty accurate shots, was off target. Getting caught sometimes and using the torrent of words to come out, which would have seemed to work forever, was not exactly as promising trick as it promised to be. The words became whirlpool at some instances and gulped their master.

The situations are hardest when the game of case taking turns to something personal. An emo can easily say “Go Fuck Yourself” and feel better, but the situation is not so easy for a stolid. He can’t hurl insults, he can’t use the silent treatment because usage of these tricks will make him an emo too, which is a bigger insult for him. He/She will prefer being a bastard.

What I will do is, that I conspire, I make plans, I be patient, I lay low, and wait for the right moment to explode when the stakes are high, so is the vulnerability of the target. The method seems to be adopted from a movie which feature Mosad or KGB or Forth Reigh, but lets get it straight it does not work. As life is too complicated to remember the petty nuisances, plus as a stoic you don’t have the fuel of emotions to pump up your rage. Soon you forget but the emo on the other end treats those words of insult as an achievement, and makes a picture of you being a dumbass (who does not know how and when to react).

Next time when you hear somebody calling you very practical or stoic; Please Please listen Emotionless Dumbass.

#StrangeWaysToReact