Chapter 10 : When fate wears a leather jacket

This is a chain love story as a part of CBC (Chennai Bloggers Club) chain story relay. 17 bloggers get to write a chapter each starting from 4th feb with the climax culminating on 20th March 2013. Thanks Vidhyasankar for introducing me in your post here. All the previous posts can be found here. Now, on to what I must do.

I was totally confused. My mind was in a complete disarray. The last few weeks had been much more than a roller coaster ride. 

Five weeks back

"Yes. Yes, of course I will marry you Guru" - I regretted saying this, the moment it came out. Saying yes was an impulse reaction. But what was said was said. I was stuck with Guru for eternity. Or wait, was I? Surely Guru wasn't the kind of person who would carry too much emotional baggage, if I tried to explain to him. But again, how can I be so sure. Making a mental note to talk to him later and explain my predicament, I hugged him tight. I was engaged.

As a to-be-married couple, Guru and I spent every waking moment possible together. He took care of my every single need. He had already started making wedding plans, even to the extent of which mantap in Chennai to book and who should play the fusion music. Well, that was my idea originally. Sometime back, I mentioned in passing that I would want a fusion music band at my wedding reception. Now, it was coming back to bite me. Guru behaved like an uncontrollable child. He came up with the most weird ideas at times, just to cheer me up. Try as I could, something disturbed me terribly. Perhaps it was the impending talk. "The Talk", to break off this engagement. Oh, but look at the beautiful engagement ring he had given. 

Gosh, Guru seems so perfect. Why am I not able to give something back to him? Is it because I love him too and want to get married. No, that can't be the case. Of course, I had said yes in a split second. But that is proving to be quite a bad idea. Well, bad is an understatement. God, please. Please give me the courage to talk to him. 

"Guru listen. I need to talk to you about something".

"Sure, my love. Tell me. Hey, you know what we should do? For the reception, instead of the typical us standing on stage and people come up with presents, why not have round tables so that you and I could walk around, meeting people. Doesn’t it sound cool?" - Guru was unstoppable.

"Hmm, that won't work Guru. But forget that. I really need to talk to you. I think….. I think I am not ready".

"Ready for what? The round table thing?" - he winked

"No Guru. You know that. I mean I am not ready for the wedding".

I could sense him turning a bit surprised. But not showing his reaction, he continued. "Of course Ahalya, you are not ready. No one is. But it just happens. Don't worry, I am here for you".

Perhaps I should bring it up another time. After all, we still had a lot of time. Or so I thought.

Three weeks back

I met him again at the museum. Rather, I was going down in the elevator, when a man entered at the third floor. As the lift started again, there was a sudden jerk and the lift stopped. "Damn", I muttered to myself. That's when I realized that the gentleman in the lift was none other than Varun. Her Varun. The Varun who was hers; until the day it all ended. It had been more than a year since we broke off, me having moved to Europe and having settled down. It was more of a shock, a sense of uneasiness to have him there, let alone be stuck in the elevator. As we got to arguing, Varun claims I was affected by some shitty Stockholm Syndrome. Cadswallup. What did he think he knew? Was he some goddamn God of Love? Idiot.

Finally the lift took off and we reached the ground floor. Varun walked out of the lift ahead of me, fiddling with his phone as he went. I went after him.

"Look Varun, I am engaged. That means, I have a fiancé who loves me more than anyone. One who respects me, understands me. I am happy with him. So…."

"Hey look, I respect that. I would never do anything to harm you in anyway. You ought to know that well" - Varun responded.

"That's not what I mean. I mean … you know … " - I  couldn't complete what I had to say. Somehow it proved to be hard. But why? Was it because I really did suffer from that syndrome? 

"I know what you mean Ahalya. I am happy for you. I really am. I had my chance and I blew it up. It was my mistake after all. But you really must know why. I think I do owe you the truth" - Varun said.

"The truth? What truth is that? I thought the reason why we broke up was very obvious" - I started to get impatient.

"Well yes, in a sense. But there's more. Now is not the time. Perhaps we could go to a coffee shop?" - he asked me.

"Look Varun, I already told you I am engaged. I don’t think us going out would be very appropriate".

"Hey hey, cool. I am not asking you out. It's just that I am craving for a coffee. Or atleast a caramel hot 

chocolate. I see a Starbucks there. Reckon we go there?" - Varun asked.

"No Varun, sorry. Atleast, not today. I am meeting my fiancé in a while and I really must rush".

"Of course. I understand. Well, if you are free Wednesday evening, lets try to make it for dinner. What say?" - he did not bother to stop.

"Uhmm, well ok. But just dinner. Just food. Nothing more, nothing less. Deal?" - I extended my hand.

"Deal" - he shook my hands.

Today

"You should try their Ischoklad. It is really good" - Varun said.

"Isch what?" - I raised an eyebrow.

"Ischoklad. Its coconut oil mixed with chocolate"

"Eww, oil and chocolate? That's like … oil and chocolate. Pah, I don’t want"

"No Ahalya, you really should. It is really good" - Varun piped.

"Alright then. I will have it. Hey Varun listen, I must have mentioned this earlier. But I think my fiancé might 

join us later, for dessert" - I said.

"Oh is it? Well, I must meet this man who has changed you so well. Would love to meet the two of you" - 

That's when the phone rings.

"Hey honey, I am just walking towards the café. I should be there in about 3mins" - Guru spoke over the phone and cut the call.

"See, that was my fiancé. He is so considerate. He did not make any false promises. That's huge eh? 

Anyway look, let's forget all this. You wanted to talk right? Please go ahead"

"Well, you see Ahalya. The thing is…. I uhmm… well, I think I must not …. " before he could complete what he had to stay, he jumped out of his chair and waved over my head shouting "Guru, over here man" - with a huge smile on his face.

"You must meet this guy Ahalya. He is my colleague and good friend. Guru. Look, there he is" - Varun explained, still waving his hand. I turned around to see, and that's when it happened.

This post will be continued by Sowmya Swaminathan, a Commerce undergrad who blogs here. Good luck Sowmya 

A journey into Thailand - Part 4

So, part 3 is  here.

The next day started off with a finely brewed coffee from Starbucks. My cousin from India was a Starbucks virgin, so he badly wanted to go. I was only happy to oblige.

After the steaming hot coffee, we went to the bus stand to book a ticket to Pattaya. Luckily, there was a bus leaving in the next 15 minutes, so we got it. Now, the buses are all Volvo airconditioned, and certainly a zillion times better than our SETC A/C buses. But the bus stand largely reminded me of our very own CMBT. Well, atleast the shops and the surroundings.

It was a 2 hour bus journey to Pattaya and I dozed off the minute we got in. Well, the seats were too comfortable and there was ample leg space. Felt just like lying on mother's lap. After two hours, we were told we had reached Pattaya and the first thought was 'Where the hell is the beach'. Well, yeah we were in a bus stand. But outside, it looked nothing like a beach side city. And then the answer came to us. The bus stand was somewhere close to the city outskirts and we had to take a cab to the beach front.

There was a tourist information office right outside the bus stand and a fine looking Thai girl welcomed us. We spoke to her (well, flirted actually) for about 20 minutes and got all the information. The first thing she suggested we do was purchase tickets for the sex shows. Politely declining the tempting offer, we got a rough idea of what we wanted to do for rest of the day in Pattaya. Bear in mind we did not have an accomodation, so basically we were care-of-platform fellows till the next day. Well, but that turned out to be quite an experience, in itself.

So, we took the cab to the beach road, got down at the very start of that nearly 5km long road and thankfully found an Indian restaurant. A couple of parathas and subji later, we were ready. We started walking along the coast line, clicking just about anything and anyone we found interesting. Some people were too happy to pose, too.

The one word you hear anywhere in Pattaya is boom-boom. That typically means, do you want a girl to get laid. Every few metres away, there would be an "uncle" who would stop you to ask. And each time, we said no. On and on we walked, looking at a myriad different things, making humor out of anything possible, well until it got dark. And that's when the life in Pattaya starts.

The first thing we did was to get the traditional Thai massage. And it was legendary. Truly awesome. One hour and 200 Baht was truly worth every penny. After it, felt thoroughly refreshed. Atleast, for the next few hours. And on we went.

Walking street is the best part of Pattaya. A nearly 2.5 km street, where no vehicles are allowed, but only walking. And that's where just about everything imaginable is. Sex shows, strip clubs, booze, hookah, clubs, massage parlours etc.

We walked around this street nearly four times end to end, that when we go the next time, I will most certainly know where to head.

And then, later in the night at around 2 AM, we got some good foot massage for about an hour and some fish spa. Again, a much deserved thing for both of us. Following this, going with tradition, we decided to watch one of the sex shows, and almost paid for it. Thankfully, one Sardarji uncle whispered in my ear "Math jao bhaiya". Taking that as the cue, we just walked on. Sometimes, its hard to beat temptations, but well help would always be there. So we headed back to the beach, sat down and drank a bit. Till both of us were thoroughly exhausted.

Around 4.30, we took a bike taxi back, after bargaining with the driver that we would pay only 100 baht for two people (when he wanted 100 for one) and got back to the bus stand. Again, luckily, there was a bus starting in five minutes. We got into it, and dozed off all the way.

On reaching back to Bangkok, we took a cab back home and again dozed off. Later, in the afternoon, we went down to the pool to relax a bit. Followed by a good round of drinks at some sleazy place nearby

The next day, we visited some local places nearby, both of us being thoroughly exhausted out of the last few days. Later the evening, I headed back to the airport to fly back to Singapore.

Well, the journey in itself was impromptu in a lot of aspects. And each time, we explored something new, ate something unknown, tried to look at each place from the eyes of a local and not a tourist. That way, we saw a lot. True, we may not have visited the typical tourist places to take pictures, we may not have gone to a sex show. But we did what we thought was right, and that's just about it. At the end of it, we had fun and lots of good memories.

I hope you enjoyed reading through this self-claimed travelogue.

--Prashanth

A journey into Thailand - Part 3

Missed out on part two? Fret not. Here it is.

Ok, for a change, this part is going to be more of a photo journey with a two line description of each photo. Where I think necessary, I shall give a detailed write up. So bear with my unconventional form of writing a travelogue.

 A photo of the current king of Thailand

 This building served as a prison during the medieval times

 Something similar to our Arasa Maram concept

 Namesake meditation

So, the photo journey done for now, let me just write a bit about the experience of roaming around the Bangkok streets.

Only the tourist Bangkok seems nice, looks good. The real Bangkok is dirty, filthy and highly poor. And it reminded me a lot of Bangalore, for some reason (no offense of any sort to Bangaloreans). Somewhat highly unplanned, the city is. Traffic, pollution, honking - well you get the picture right? Having lived in Singapore for around six months, it was quite startling to actually see beggars on the streets. The bad old Indian story comes flooding back. Sadly.

Cutouts and banners of the Royal Family adorn every bit of Bangkok. And people respect the King so much. If you come across a banner and point out at it, the Thai people consider that disrespectful. To them, the King is everything. 

Bike taxis are another important aspect of Bangkok, and pretty much of Thailand. Bangkok literally lives on bike taxis. The picture above is also one of that, only we took a triples ride. That moment, I felt so damn proud of being Indian.

So, starting out at around 10 AM on day 1 of the trip, we covered pretty much a lot of Bangkok. We decided not to go into the Grand Palace, because of a sudden plan to visit Pattaya and we needed money for that. Consoling ourselves that we would visit Bangkok again once we start earning, we proceeded on. So, this walking journey of Bangkok ended around 7 in the evening and we returned to our room, to get ready for the next big thing, rather the most important thing - Cowboy Street - the strip club capital of Bangkok.

Now, considering the variety of audience and respecting all the womenfolk out there, I shall not get into the specifics of this leg of the journey. But, would gladly share experiences offline. 

Next post - Pattaya

A journey into Thailand - Part 2

So, lets continue the journey, shall we? I am sorry I couldn't post the second part soon. But if you had missed the first part, you can find it here

Well, the next morning we got up around 10 AM and headed out. We did not have any fixed idea in mind, no particular place to see. This, for two reasons - first being, to visit any typical tourist spot, you ought to have shit loads of money. We were short on that, being students. Secondly, both my cousin and I were particular about exploring the "real" Bangkok. So, having checked the maps first, we decided to go to the place where the Grand Palace was located. This was because the major tourist attractions were around the palace. So once we go there, we could always enquire at a tourist information centre about what things were not so expensive in Bangkok, and what to do off-beat.

We decided to take the local transport. Luckily, there was one BTS station close to the place where we stayed. BTS is basically the sky-train in Bangkok that goes, in a lot of places, between high raise buildings and is really creepy in a sense.

This picture is a bit blurred, but the text actually reads 'Please offer this seat to monks'. And we crib about offering the seats to the needy.

So we took the train and headed out to a station called Victory Monument. From there, we were supposed to take a bus. And we took the bus. Only then we realized we hadn't checked the bus stop where we were supposed to get down. And the conductor did not know English. Thankfully, a Thai Paati helped us out and spoke to the conductor. Now, the Thai buses are no different from our very own MTC buses, except that most of them are air conditioned. Apart from that, everything else was mostly same.

This picture is just a small sample of the Thai Language. Some of the characters resemble Hindi right?

So a half hour journey in the bus, we reached the stop. Opposite to us was the Bangkok National Museum. Our very own Ganesha welcomed us to the gates. Yes, was quite surprised to see a Ganesha poster outside the museum.

Right opposite to the museum was a small hawker centre, quite different from the ones I see here in Singapore. It was more of a roadside eat out kind of place, the Thai version of kayendhi bhavan

Outside the museum, we bumped into a tourist guide, who spoke amazing English. He was our tourist information centre for the day. We got all the details from him, as to what to do and where to go. He patiently gave us a schedule, even called one of the tuk-tuks, bargained a charge of 100 baht to cover some 4-5 places.

So what are tuk-tuks? Quite simply put, they are one of the two lifelines of Bangkok. Tuk tuks are the Thai autos. Only, a lot more spacious than our own autos.

And here's our tuk-tuk-wala. One helluva driver he was.

 So where did this guy take us? The next post would contain only the pictures and captions of all the places he took us. Until then.....

A journey into Thailand - Part 1

So, last Thursday when I got up in the morning (read afternoon), I did not even think in the least bit that I would be moving out of home that day, let alone the country. As was routine, I logged into Facebook and there was a message from my cousin bragging about his visiting Bangkok. We talked about it, one thing led to another, and there I was, scheduled to fly to Bangkok that evening. Yep, it was so damn simple. And inspite of all my misgivings of Tiger Airways, the one thing they are the best at - cheap airfares. It costed me hardly 250$ for a return ticket. So frantic few hours into deciding what clothes to wear, and running around to print out the ticket, there I was, finally, sitting in Changi Airport at 7 PM for a flight scheduled to fly out of the airport around 9 PM.

Two hours later (well, one hour, considering the time difference), there I was in Suvarnabhumi International Airport. The airport is bloody huge. Imagine this - I had to walk nearly a 750m from the gate to the immigration point and a further 350m to the Visa on Arrival counter.

Thankfully, I had exchanged dollars to Thai Bhat in Changi itself, so I could directly proceed to the immigration counter. But the VoA formalities took around a half hour, and the dumb immigration officer happily made a mistake - he stapled the departure card onto my passport. Cursing him mentally, I walked out to the exit to take a cab into the city. I was slated to stay with my cousin, who was crashing with his cousin. I gave the address to the cabbie, who simply stared at me. He couldn't read English. Some kind heart soul nearby wrote the address in Thai and gave it to him. And so we went. On and on and on.

I simply loved the highways of Bangkok. The city itself is so huge. And it boasts of tons and tons of superfast highways. Some of them which go on to three levels. Huge criscrossing junctions, but on the highways, traffic seemed so seamless. I so badly wanted to shoot a few pictures, but the cab was flying at such huge speeds, that it was absolutely impossible.

After what seemed like eternity and 600 Bhat of taxi fare, I reached the place. My cousin returned home shortly and we got to talking way into the night. And gradually slept off, having planned big for the day.

The Bangkok experience to continue on the part two of this post.....

Cravings for the past - what Chennai means to me

This post is part of the blog tag titled the CBC Tabog, where CBC stands for Chennai Bloggers Club. About 35 bloggers from Chennai are participating in this blog tag; everyone will write about Chennai and what has attracted them here. Thanks to Muthiah Sriram for passing the buck on to me. Muthiah calls himself an amateur blogger, although a brief skimming through his blog makes me not want to agree with him.

But before I delve too much into why I am attached so much to Chennai (or Madras, as I prefer calling it), a small trivia. I was born in Madras on a fine evening of '88 and guess who was the nurse who delivered me? Don't we all know Nurse Nalini? Yes, the same lady. So, in a way, my birth itself is a bit of a controversy.

But back to the city. Whenever I think of Madras, a sense of warmth sweeps over me completely. Like the warmth an infant feels in a mother's arm. Yes, I am, but, one of the many children of Madras. And a proud one at that. An NRI child, who still craves to cling on to all the beautiful memories this (g)old city has bestowed upon me. How much ever people abuse the city, both verbally and otherwise, one cannot deny the fact that Madras gives back only love; only care. It embraces one and all, irrespective of caste, creed, color, race. To Madras, each one of us is equal. 

I still remember the good old days when I was a school kid. Back then, we lived in Kodambakkam, the Kollywood capital. Just a stone's throw away, Vairamuthu lived. In my own flat, some small time actor and his father lived. Memories of actually wanting to get even his autograph linger somewhere in the brain. Those days also formed the most happiest memories of my life. I am talking of a time when Satyam did not become so awesome, but was merely a theatre with four screens. At that time, watching a movie at the AVM theatre in Vadapalani was considered rich. Udayam theatre was the second best choice. Every weekend, my entire family (my parents, dad's brother and his family, my cousins) made it a routine to either catch up a movie at AVM, or hit the Marina beach followed by dinner in one of the star hotels back then. Uncle, being filthy rich, mostly treated us. The scores of times we have had awesome family time in the beach can never be forgotten. I look back at those days with such a heavy heart, now that we don't do it anymore. 

There was this one restaurant near Mandaveli bus terminus called Mela. They served the best Shahi Paneer in all of Chennai. My aunt used to take my cousin and me there every alternate weekend. At one point, the restaurant started giving us discount for being regular customers. The last time when I was in Chennai and went along that road, and that restaurant was not there. What a shame.

And then the new Satyam came in. Even as a school kid, I remember hanging so much at the theatre, that sometimes we used to watch three movies back to back. Thankfully, all our dads did not mind that. A walk along the road leads one to the Church Park convent. Need I say more? Everything back then seemed so simple, yet so memorable. Even today, although INOX, PVR and AGS have found a strong loyalty base, in my case, it is always Satyam. Watching a movie in Satyam is an experience in itself. And that's something non-Chennaiites would never understand, even though many other cities boast of far superior multiplexes. 

Studying in one of the finest schools of Chennai (and probably India) had its own merit. Yes, I am a proud alumnus of Padma Seshadri. What I am today, is because what PSBB gave me. Which takes me back to wonderful memories of friends from school, many of us now settled in various parts of the globe, but our roots still are stuck with Chennai and I am sure it always will.

I was not so lucky to experience the city as a college kid (both during my UG and now my Masters). Studying in a college outside Chennai had its disappointments, but I used to run back to Chennai at the tiniest of opportunity available. Every time when we took a bus from Trichy to Chennai, once the bus crossed the airport, I used to be wide awake. Just to enjoy the early morning beauty of the Kathipara flyover. The flyover is still one of awe, everytime I drive over it. How much the traffic used to suck around the area before the flyover was built. 

A walk along the Nanganallur market is a visual treat to anyone. All the Iyer mamis clad in their madisar 9 gajam is such a beauty to watch. And trust me, these mamis are unbeatable when it comes to bargaining. Such smart ones they are. The awesome puliyodharai and vadai from Anjaneyar temple is something to crave for. The unique taste can never be matched. 

Watching a match at the Chepauk stadium is always a thrill. I have watched matches both in the Pavilion and Pavilion terrace (once, even getting a close up look at the Master Blaster), as well as from the most cheapest of stands. But cheering on with other fanatics, especially during the much recent IPL matches, screaming voices out to support CSK, booing Delhi Daredevils once - wow, all that is just absolute bliss. After one particular IPL match in which Chennai won, we were so urged to drink, that we actually took the car all the way from Triplicane to the airport (Zaras), only to find that it was closed. And then we headed back to Thiruvanmiyur to a friend's place and got drunk all night over foreign scotch and local sarakku. And still managed to head to office the next morning

The beauty of Chennai is that it has retained a big part of its erstwhile Madras era even today. On the one hand, the south of the city has changed so much that you can mainly see glass covered tech parks and software companies. On the other side, there is still a big portion along the Mount Road, PH Road where the colonial look has still remained. Each of those 100 year old buildings near Ritchie Street are such grandeur structures.

Travelling in the first class compartment of the electric train from Pazhavanthangal station to Paranur to work is something I will both miss and not miss. True, it used to be so damn crowded, that I'd just want to jump off the train every day. But the fact that the first class compartment was right next to the ladies compartment made up for all the irritation. Both salwar clad techies of Mahindra City and the jean'ed girls of SRM University were just the best part of the one hour long journey. Each day brought in new experiences, new things to talk to, new people to look at. 

Yes, the city has its own limitations and problems. Traffic, pollution, heat, Cooum river - the list goes rather huge. Yet, all these are also a part of the legacy that's Chennai. Everything cannot be perfect. Something has to be wrong. What would be complain about, if everything was right? We have to learn to live among the imperfections, yet try to correct them unsuccessfully. The balance of good and the not-so-good should be retained. And, Chennai has done everything in its capacity to retain this balance. 

I perhaps have left out on the most obvious things about Chennai. But Chennai, as public as it might be, is also my personal pride. Naturally, whenever I think of the city, I would only look at it from a personal view. Chennai has given me so much, and I am sure it would give me much more. And I would be eternally grateful to the city for making me who I am today. True, I don’t live in the city now, and I don’t foresee my return (permanently) for a few years. But the reality is, I embarked on this journey of doing my Masters with just one sole purpose - to make enough money to actually purchase just one house in Chennai, so that I can get back to what would rightfully be mine, hopefully in a few years. A simple Chennaiite's dream. When I say this, I cannot fail to miss that one tiny drop of tear that's clinging on to my eye, which reminds me constantly that this is for the best and that I would be back soon. Back to my roots. Back to my base. Back to Madras.

This post would be succeeded by Rajiv Nagarajan, a Chennaiite who blogs on random stuff, often mokkai. I wouldn’t quite agree, but why don't you decide for yourself? He blogs at here

2012, as I saw it and 2013, as I hope to see it

So 2012 went off smoothly (perhaps not). Too many good and a lot more not so good things have happened the last year. The fag end of the year went off in all of us anguishing over the gangrape of an innocent 23 year old girl in Delhi and later an entire nation mourning her loss. Somehow, it is sad that a lot of these events were not something we could do anything about.

But, as I sit here and think of the past year, I am reminded of a few events that happened in my own personal life, some which I cherish and some, not so much. 2012 was a momentous year for me, because I finally got the balls to do something I wanted to do three years back. I decided to pursue my Masters degree. Thankfully, Singapore formed a natural choice, considering I was very particular about not going too far away from home, yet a place that offers excellent scope. The point about not going too far, was in a way driven by the fact that 2012 was the year when my parents completed 25 wonderful years of wedlock and I did not want to miss out on organizing something grand to commemorate the occasion. Thankfully, that went very well. It also gave me a shocking reminder that I am growing old, something I am still coming to terms with.

2012 was also the year when I completed a one year long relationship with my new gal. She's black, but brilliant. An amazing companion, knows what I always want, and bows down to every wish. She goes by the name Spark :) Yes, my own car, bought out of my own money (well, dad is now paying the EMI, but still). Also, this year, the first male cousin in my family got married and relatives are now behind my back, hinting at tying me down. Thankfully, Singapore gave me a helping hand, atleast for now.

That said, I hope 2013 would also be as momentous as 2012. For starters, I really hope I find a job soon so that I can once again get independent and not be tied down by the troubles of an international student. I hope to make certain important life decisions as well, and I hope things fall into place (for details, offline please). Lets see how that goes. And a couple of other wishes, all in due time.

But now, to the more important question of what I did on New Year's Eve. Although you might well have guessed, let me elaborate. The evening started off with spending time on Orchard Road (read this for more information) and hitting a pub there with two office colleagues (well, I am working with a company for a month) and then head to Marina Bay Sands (read this) to drop the jaws at all the decorations and then go back to this place called Clarke Quay, which is the booze capital of Singapore.

So once at CQ, we bought a couple of beer tins and found a spot for ourselves (this time, with my college friends). And trust me, we made the maximum noise in all of CQ, considering there were more than atleast a thousand people assembled (or much more). And one of the friends became the victim of all the sarakku abishegam. Two beer tins, a bottle each of Coke, Sprite etc. were swaha'ed on him. Poor chap.

All this done, we formed the usual train and ran around the whole place, making complete fools of ourselves, but not bothered in the least bit about it, wishing the most random people a Happy New Year, well and all that, till a few policemen came and asked us to shut up. So, there. The police factor is also in place. Some more time there and it was back home around 2 AM, completely drunk, but nonetheless, having the best of new year in recent times.

Happy 2013 :)

-Prashanth

So long, sister

For no fault of yours, you so badly suffered.
For no good deed, you gained so many siblings

Brutally slaughtered, you had to undergo so much hardship.
To satisfy the barbaric desires of a few monsters, you paid a price.

With your suffering, a bunch of morons called women names.
Dented and painted, one called out

What nation is this, that cannot protect its own children
What country is this, that passes on the buck (each time)

And then you were airlifted, in the hope you would survive
You fought hard, at home and abroad

Yet, God wishes otherwise; he took your life away
Is it so that you can reclaim your dignity; pass on to peace?

Sorry sister, you deserved much more
With your absence, you gave us a cause.

So long!
Rest in Peace

Orchard Christmas

So, three years back, I was in Europe around Christmas. It so happened that on Christmas day, I was in Vatican. And I got to see the Pope. Although I practice a different religion, it was really a wonderful experience to actually see the religious head of one of the largest religions in the world. And I thought that was the best Christmas in many years to come. Until two days back.

Orchard Road in Singapore is one famous two kilometer stretch, that is just filled with innumerable number of malls.

Literally, a person would need atleast one day to walk through each mall. All the world famous brands including Prada, Louis Vuitton and many many more find base there. And you go there late nights, it is famous for the oldest practiced occupation of the world (any guesses there?) And the road was filled with beautifully decorated Christmas trees every few yards. I've never seen such mind blowing decorations

See the lighting in the picture below. That's how the road is lit up all along the stretch. Some places are even more grand.

Fountains colored beautifully, it adds beauty to the whole scene.

So, these decorations are just a part of the grandeur. There's much more along the entire stretch and each of it is an absolute visual treat.

Remember our very own Ranganathan Street and how crowded it is. Well, not surprisingly, Orchard Road on Christmas eve was just like that. To cap it all, everyone of them had foam bottles in their hands, and by the end of it all, we were just soaked in foam every bit of the body.

The best part of course, was the dressing up of all the gorgeous women, richly colored clothing, a little too much revelation than necessary and the fact that they didn't really care about what they revealed. My my !! It could last one a lifetime.

If Christmas was such, I wonder how New Year's eve would be.

Disclaimer : All the pictures have been taken on my handphone camera.

Kasab's death : Dedicated to all the brave police officers who saved the nation

Death is death. There are no differences to it. No tags can be attached. Be it one of the most popular Prime Ministers killed by a bunch of linguistic fanatics, or innocent citizens of a nation's financial capital, it is still the same. So why must a terrorist being hanged until death for a heinous crime be treated any different?

After Kasab's death today, I see a lot of people broach up the topic of death sentence once again and try to figure out a stand. Some friends who, I am sure, are hell bent against death sentence are hailing the killing of Kasab. I ask them how such a stand is possible, and they comfortably reply 'there are always exceptions'. Well, I don't agree. When it comes to the life of a person, there can be no exceptions. Its either whole or none. Support it or oppose it. No selective support of any kind.

I, for one, certainly support death sentences. It is purely my opinion that people who oppose it (or in such cases, selectively oppose it) in the name of human rights, and Gandhi's very own 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind', are actually fooling themselves. And trust me, you guys would never know the pain a victim goes through, unless you actually witness it first hand. I wonder if you'd stick to your Gandhian philosophy then. Probably not.

Kasab was one of the ten terrorists who took out to wipe out a part of our nation. His misfortune, he was caught alive. In his case, the law has only done what it is supposed to. Those who mock the Government for waiting for four years, please let it rest. Be happy that you are part of a democracy where even the nation's "enemy" is given a fair trial. If it takes four years, well so what? In some sense, justice has been served right?

To those braveheart social network addicts who post things like 'ROT IN HELL' and such shit, get a life guys. Don't merely mark your attendance on the social networks through such cheap posts. Think of all the pain those police officers' families are still undergoing. Empathize with them, that's important. Not you goddamn "present sir" on Facebook and twitter.

I am sure Arnab Goswami, Sagarika Ghose, Rajdeep Sardesai, Barkha Dutt and all those pseudo journalists are making out special segments. Please do not give us your crap this time. Don't project Kasab as the epitome of terrorism. Remember, this ain't the end.

There could well be terrorists plotting their next attack on the nation. What we need to do now, is wake up to reality. Laws like POTA need to be brought back to tackle with complex issues. The Government is at a moral responsibility to assure its citizens that they are there to take care. And my dear fellow citizens, for once, appreciate the Government for what it has done, and show your solidarity and support to the families of those brave policemen who lost their lives saving us.