Got time?

No timeI’m so full. I just had one of those heavy dinners after a really heavy evening snack which was still being ruled over by a malignant lunch full of rice and eggs. Darn! Wasn’t I supposed to be dieting? Ohh yeah, how did it slip off my mind? I’m me. I give up, I procrastinate, I’m afraid and I lose; every time. I had managed to cut down on the excess flab I had by running hard and by consuming only that; which my body needs and not what my tongue and heart craves. I guess that was a temporary gush of zeal and vigour which has died out over the course of the last few months and I’ve been hogging like a pig. The only difference being me, the fat pig that I am – I eat packed, more cleaner food products and you wont spot me roaming the dumpster gorging on whatever shit is available. Its not like I make a pig of myself all the time but I never lose an opportunity. Like today, I told myself, “Hey! Chetan is coming over, so its alright. Lets have Chinese.” So I did. I nearly choked myself trying to finish up all the Shezwan Chowmein and I now feel like my stomach’s going to explode spewing half-digested noodles all over the place. Hmmm, come to think of it now, it’ll be a rather filthy way to die. I think Abhi is right, I am a foodie and there’s no stopping me. I suck.

LifeI actually began this royal ramble in an attempt to find answers to the question – Are we really busy? I’ve had friends and family turn into absolute strangers just because they did not have time.  They “scrap” me on orkut and thats all that there is left between me and a couple of friends who meant the world to me. People who seemed like stones in cement, they are scratchy and annoying, but they make the whole structure that is my life more stable. Its another story that I don’t bother scrapping them cause for me, thats the way I communicate with people I care less about. You wouldn’t want your life to be like its displayed on the right, would you? Time; is it really that expensive? I have my calculation here: Sleep – 8 hrs. I’ve been very liberal with this activity because I’m trying to catch up on a lot of lost sleep. Repeat – love sucks. I remember there being nights where I’d spend the entire night just waiting for a call or a message from her. What the fuck did I think I was doing? Ok, I’m back after that short break. That wasn’t me, just an alter-personality. He thought he was in love and all that junk, you know? Excuse him please. So, yeah, 8 hrs of sleep, 8 hrs of work (Yeah, I’m particular about this. No more-No less) 2 hrs of travel time and this includes commutation to and from work and other travels that I commit to on a daily basis. Like walking to the bathroom, going to the chai-tapri nearby and stand there sipping on tea for a few minutes, lost in sleep and shit in my eyes. I hate that icky thing in my eyes when I wake up. I wonder where that comes from. I really don’t need a scientific answer to that. Most organic lubricants are disgusting. I’ve covered 18 hrs. Lets see, what next? I’ll award 2 hrs for unavoidably involuntary but pleasurably voluntary activities like thinking hard whilst taking a dump, a long warm water shower (when it isn’t as burny as it is these days) where I’d stand like one of those heroes in action movies who’d thrust their palms into the wall and let the water hit their naked back. Stand there forever as if trying to tackle a world problem. Brushing my teeth, flossing and admiring them. I still have 4 hours left! Thats like 8,64,000 seconds. Yup, I did the math. Sheldon and Miz Beverly Hofstadter have inspired me to calculate, wherever possible.

I then thought about how it’d be different for all the people feigning a busy schedule. What could possibly change in their calendar which makes them busier and thereby glorify my joblessness in the pathetic excuse for a life that I live. Or vice-versa maybe? I’m not sure whats better these days. I suppose and assume from whatever I see around me, that being busy is a trait of a more successful being. 4 HOURS is what I get more each and every day and I’m sure I make efforts at trying to keep in touch with people. I talk to people who’d want to talk to me. I send out emails; sometimes to random strangers who I know will never reply. I chat up, call, text and do everything that I can to let people know that I’m still around. And this, I do everyday. Now, this may not include people like Abhi in it cause with him, I don’t need to. He’s that awesome. He’d make that call and unto now, he’s made those calls without fail. I’ve been inconsiderate to him in more ways than one over the course of time but I’m sure he understands and I’ve been emphatically successful at emotionally challenging him. Which, of course is where he’d fall weak and give in. He’s a bundle of joy! Hmmm, more on him later. For now, my words go out for those millions of people who don’t find time. I’ve got a small story to tell you’ll. I hope you’ve read this before, but if you haven’t, then here’s for you:

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly.The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “Yes”. The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.”Now,” said the professor, as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognise that this jar represents your life.The golf balls are the important things – family, your loved one, your children, your God and your friends, that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your career, your money, bank accounts, your house, and your car.The sand is everything else-the small stuff. “If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. If you put pebbles first there is no room for the golf-balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small things, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical check-ups. Take your partner out to dinner. Spend more time with your loved ones. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. There will always be time to earn that extra dollar.” Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”

This goes out to all of my friends who’d never return an sms or who would never bother messaging online just because they dont want to be the ones making the efforts. This goes out for all of those people who should be humbled by their existence in this beautiful truffle cake where all they need to do is to chew and lick. Its delicious and all you need to do is reach out. Well, lets not talk about recession and the possibility of it turning into a deep depression; for now, ok? Lets just concentrate on that cake. Yes, the truffle. Make time, talk to yourself and adore yourself once in a while. Its perfectly alright. Call up your loved ones whenever you can – you always have time to make a call or drop a message. You know that, don’t you? You’re never busy to share love. Read a book even if you dont read my blog, pfft. My recommendations – You are here, Of course I love you, Anything for you ma’am; those should be a good start. Simple, lucid writing is easily relished, I feel. This goes out to all those inconsiderate people who ignore their friends just cause they have new ones. For all those insensitive slaves of time who think that it’ll always be green on their side. Take 10 minutes out, will you? This goes out for ME.

-Anup

Experimenting with my hair.

StupidityAlright, laugh if you may and please yourself. This for all those laughaholics who’d laugh at a friends misery. Yes, I have those – friends who’d not miss an opportunity to laugh at you. Infact, they’d ask you to send in one of your stupid pictures just so that they’d grab a giggle before the sandman calls. Love you guys nevertheless!

This is how I look as an aftermath to my encounter with the dude-hairstylist at the ‘Macho Beauty Parlour – Mens and Womens‘ its a classy joint if you feel extra affectionate towards your soft exoskeleton and are in the mood to pamper yourself. Which is precisely what I did today after a not-too-great couple of days. My hair had grown out of proportion and I entered the place hoping to trim it up a bit just so as to look presentable. The dude coaxed me into something I should never have done! HE STRAIGHTENED MY HAIR!!! Arghhh!!! I cannot put into words the dilemma I am in right now. I spent over Rs 1,800 to get my hair to look like that. The smile here is to avoid the look that’d be on the phase of a girl who was recently molested.

Kya lag rahe ho sir aap…” thats what he said as he gave final touches to his master piece. I was in a state of shock and had no words who’d want to fall out of my mouth. I guess even they were embarassed to look at the mirror. You’ll see my trepidation here, don’t you? If there are people who don’t see whats wrong here please scroll down to the gallery below. The last picture there ‘Good bye Nandi’ is how I looked before I walked in and the picture displayed here is what the bitch turned me into! This is the result of over four hours of hard labour. Creams, ironing and washing; I was all over the place. Now you know what happens when you try to experiment, don’t you Anu? I’m pretty sure I noticed a couple of guys checking me out as I tried to keep those strands of hair falling off the edge of my eyes. This was on my walk of shame back home from the parlour. Smelling all girly with all those creamy creams and what-not. Now that its done; I will deal with it and I will, with the help of a lot of almond oil get it back to where it was – wavy and unruly, almost surrealy Junglee (wild)

That being said, here’s a promise (since thats the first step) – I will finish working on my novel by Jan 2010. I will dedicate time towards completing it everyday. Especially for you Abhi. Who by the way, has promised to sponsor and fund it if need be! Should be easy then once I have the data compiled and amalgamated. I know that I’ve been writing more than I used to and its not because I’m jobless. In fact, I’m busier than I have ever been. The new project I’m working on is squeezing out most of my valueable neuropower. *sigh* might as well say… I miss the following people very much – Sneha, Shags, mom, Smikh and Abhi. I’m selfish that way. I expect a lot from the people I love; thereby burdening them. I must stop smothering them. Sleep time.

-Anup

Collage etcetera

Though I’ve managed to type down and thereby frozen the events of my life over the past year and a half; I’ve noticed, recently that there are chunks of it that I managed to forget/ignore. I’ve been lucky enough to grab pictures of most of my travels and outings. Guess I’ll just make a collage out of it and put in a brief delineation of my encounter with life, travel, my car, family, friends and foes. I’ve skillfully managed to avoid foes though so none here. I’ve also omitted my visit to Pune this december on account of Abhi and Muiz’s marriage because those are very important events and I’d probably talk about them later. Mostly cause they’ve indirectly made a marked difference in my life too. So here goes:

The first two pictures clicked on my drive down to Kerala which was both foolhardy and adventurous. I have no clue of the interiors of my car and I cannot fix a flat. So if there be this time when I drove into a jungle and was chased by stray dinosaurs and bless-my-luck there be this time during the chase where my car breaks down; I really would have no direction whatsoever towards fixing it. So, yes, that being said, I was hoping that Jittu (my cousin who accompanied me) would know something about this. I’d then fend of the beasts while he works on a devious plan to fix the car. Uhm, darn me and my meandering thoughts. The next picture speaks for itself. Two very beautiful angels who make life easier for me, everyday. Then we have our new house at Irinjalakuda (Thrishur, Kerala). We then have Gods own country at its best all lushed out and laid in front of you like a green carpet welcoming you to go become Mowglee! This on my drive back to Bangalore – end of Kerala.

We then have Ooty, another picturesque location and I was clicking away wherever we paused, which incidentally was all over the place, even at some random rich guys farm from where we ran like hell after stealing a few shots. He even had a private waterfall. What the hell kinda luck is that? Chetan and I attended Ratheesh’s wedding which was at Pallakad and the next picture depicts an image of a lamb being taken to be slaughtered (Ratheesh in the middle) and two bachelors smiling all over his misery! To share a small story about Chetan here wouldn’t be too taxing on Chetans ego (I hope) he is difficult that way. Ratheesh was supposed to come up with a Mundu for Chetan which never showed up and Chetan was clad in a Black-tee and blue jeans (which he declared hadn’t been washed since forever, then) Here we had a small drama featuring Chetan in the lead role and me in support cast where the anti-hero (Chetan) went on to use some beautifully derogative words for Ratheesh’s lack of sense and responsibility. The picture was taken after Ratheesh guessed the anti-hero’s disgust and magically came up with a Mundu from somewhere. We then managed to buckle up Chetan and he was smiling away for a few hours after that. He was obsessed with the piece of cloth. Precisely what I love about him. Smalls things are important.

We then have the next four pictures from the Coorg outing with the married man Abhi who had come down to Bangalore in January. The first one is picturesqueness personified. I think its one of the best pictures my camera has shot in a while now. Chetan and I – the Floydians, he siding to the Dark side of the moon and me, obsessed with The Division bell. My first and last drink ever – one bottle beer. Hmm, what was it now? Kingfisher? Yeah, I guess so. I was supposed to experience how ‘the high’ feels like and go off to sleep. I was puzzled at the aftermath of gulping down the entire contents of the bottle in three glasses of one go each. Beer tastes like piss, I think. According to me, intestinal discharge is the most distasteful thing ever. Should taste like that then. Add to that the aerated drink had me burping and taking a leak every fifteen minutes. A thorough waste of eighty bucks I must say and I will never touch piss again. The picture here has a blurred out face of a person who was with us on the trip and did not want to be named. He was on a secret mission to Coorg. There will be no more talks about him and questions will be ignored. It was 26th of Jan and this put Chetan in the ‘Bharat mata ki jai‘ mood. Thats him there with a Tiranga on his face.

The last five pictures taken this Sunday when Ratheesh turned bachelor temporarily and we all needed the break. Work has been killing me just as much as its bothering them I suppose. Nandi hills is this small hillock around 60 kms off Bangalore and its the only place we know (for now) which is devoid of crowd and the only place we know which would facilitate a quite walk and some fresh air. The eerie tree looked good on my camera – CLICK! After which we have me, in the thoughtful mood, a jumpy Chetan and me following suit. Post which we quickly said good bye to the place and made a dash for home. It was roadies time. I’m surprised at how much I like that show. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. In other news, mother and Sneha have returned from Kerala. Our new home is all set to house our needs when we go to Kerala next. We hence on do not need to deal with pesky relatives. Work, for me is hectic, tiresome, thrilling and full of learning. Something that it wasn’t until a month ago. I would like to emphatically thank Avinash for sponsoring this opportunity. I injured my car after I decided to chat up with Chetan on the phone whilst driving inattentively. I’m sorry babe. Will get you fixed soon. Mesa got insurance for yousa! Finally, I’d like to end with a song sung by me and one from Ajay, both recorded by him in his mini studio which does a very comprehensive job, I must say. He is good with music; Ajay that is.

Wish you were here – Pink Floyd, by Anup:

[audio:http://www.anup.org/audio/wywh.mp3]

================================================================

Hallelujah – Ajay:

[audio:http://www.anup.org/audio/ajhal.mp3]

Peace out people.

-Anup

A year of not being in love – Happy Valentines – 2009!

He twitched a little as he shifted to third gear. The road was empty and he felt the need to overdrive. It was 11:55 and a cruel clock driven by the need to find a way back into love began ticking within him. It was close to a year since they parted ways and every second that ticked seemed like a nail on his coffined life. He felt the need to stop the car and take a walk but then he had, seated next to him this colleague to whom he promised a lift back home. Jassi (the colleague here) was silent as he tried to listen intently to the loud blaring music. He seemed so unfamiliar to Creed. “Loud music gives me the yips” he said without looking at him. He ignored the comment and switched to fifth gear. The sooner I drop him the better it’d be for me, he thought.

14th of February 2008 came rushing in and it seemed to drown him in a sea of sorrow, regret and hopelessness. That was their last day together. She looked beautiful (he thought) in a white dress with red flowers on it and matching flat shoes to go along. He had no gift, but bought a card and some flowers cause they had agreed upon getting no gifts. He caught her by surprise when he came up with the card cause she assumed that he’d follow himself since it was he who cracked the deal. “No gifts this time! You wanna break up anyway, right? So lets not waste our hard earned money” he said the other night in a voice that seemed to crack over the phone telling her of how much it pained him but he chose to fight anyway. “Alright” she said and slid back into bed. She dialed his number and burst into tears.

She: I can’t take this anymore. I want all this to end.
Him: What happened? Why are you crying? Are you ok? I’m worried…
She: (muffling her sobs) I’m worried. I don’t want to be with him anymore.
Him: I know. Its alright, we’ll sort this out. You talk to him tomorrow.
She: But its Valentines and you know how he can be?
Him: Yes. But you have to tell him someday about how you feel. You’ve dragged this for 2 long years.
She: (still sobbing) But I wanted to be with you. I never thought he’d come. We broke up before he left to join work at Bangalore.
Him: *sigh* don’t worry, just talk to him. Happy Valentines day – I love you.
She: I love you too. Call you tomorrow.

“So you bought me a card and flowers even though we weren’t supposed to get gifts?” she questioned. He knew that was coming. “I know, just wanted to get you closer to reality. You’re a shallow person, you know? Don’t you know me? I would never turn up without a gift” She had the smudged but unwilling to accept embarrassment kinda look on her face as she hopped into the car. She sat down and stared at the mirror adjusting her make up. “You look gorgeous” he said. “Care for a picture?” and he notioned her to get down from the car. She got out and he went all clickety. Pictures always made her happy.

“And whats our POA for the day?” she asked, as if trying to estimate when she’d get free. She had other appointments. “POA? I’m not sure… err, what?” “Plan of action, I mean” she said, continuing to play with her maskara. “Ohhh, movie? I heard P.S: I love you is playing at E-square, lunch and then a drive maybe?” He seemed unsure if she really had the entire day. He knew she had other plans. It was like he always knew. This was the dreaded day. “Sounds like a plan, lets make a dash” and she smiled for the first time. Well, thats what kills a man, doesn’t it? Her tears and her smile. They drove off and she seemed to be lost for most part of the drive to the movie hall. She fiddled with her phone, tried to concentrate on the music blaring out of the radio (she had this turned high on volume, reasons unknown) and finally feigned some sleep. They entered the hall and bought movie tickets. They still had an hour to the start of the movie. “Hey, I’d like to grab a sketch if possible. Guess we’d never get to do that again” it was like the bite of a venomous snake. The pain of the bite and the venom seeping into his bloodstream. The pain was ineffable. “What do you mean? Nothings wrong! you’re crazy…” she lied. She held his hand (for the first time that day) and dragged him to the sketch counter. They stood in front of the web-cam and it clicked a picture and began sketching. Both of them wore a cemented smile and waited for the sketch. The silence grew on them and he broke the dead air…

He: What plans for tomorrow then? I’m leaving day after.
She: Anything you say. Just don’t ask me to bunk work. I hate doing that.
He: I didn’t ask for anything. It’s alright if you’re busy. Its just that, we both know whats to proceed. I thought you’d want to spend some time with me.
She: Yes, I’d like that. Work begins at 4. Jodha Akbar? Tomorrow? I heard its funny (and she guffawed)
He: Alright, good, you get the tickets. I’m sure you’d have saved up truckloads of money on all the gifts you avoid buying. (he winked)
She: Arghhhhhh!! I knew you’d come up with that. I was just doing what you said.
He: Hey! I was just kidding, whats with you? Weren’t you the one who suggested I take jokes?
She: No! I don’t want you to curse me with this later. I want to get you a gift like right now!!

(She dragged him into Archie’s)

He: Listen, please? Forget about it? I was just messing with your head.
She: Yes, you’re a pro at that, you know?

(She has a toy figure of olive oyl in pink in her hand and seems appreciative about its cost)

She: Could you parcel this up for me?
Shopguy: Sure (and he goes on with gift wrapping it)
He: Uncalled for. Suit yourself though.
Shopguy: 220 Rs ma’am.
She: Hey, can you lend me 200? (after shuffling in her bag and purse for a while)
He: Hey, sure thing! Here you go…

(She hands his gift over)

He: Hey, thanks so much! I love the gift I bought myself. (and he winked again)
She: You come up with new ways of killing me every day. How do you manage?
He: I don’t need to try luvey, you are the artist in me!
She: Hey! I thought we were out together on Valentines day? Lets try to be happy?
He: Sure thing. You try. I’m happy that I get to be with you. Its difficult handling all the call waits anyway. You have been a busy bee off late.

(A quite lunch and an amazing movie later)

“You should consider untying your hair I think” he said and gave her a worried look. “Do you really want to show all that bare back to the crowd?” and he got into the car trying to avoid eye contact. He knew she’d give him the “stfu-low-life” kinda look. “Uhm, I thought you said I looked beautiful” she said carelessly and got in. They didn’t speak for a while. The traffic kept him busy. “So where to? same old?” he asked. “Ohhh yes, lets go there!! I still remember…” she began. “Please! don’t fuck it up with uncalled nostalgia. You know things wont end well if we got nostalgic” he said as he tuned up the player. He drove on until they reached the spot. This was where they used to come when they were madly in love which seemed as though it was all a mirage. For him it was as real as could be. Love slipping away; he had been living with it for a long time now and he wanted to gut it down. They got out of the car and walked slowly towards the tree which stood on a small plateau. They sat down and spoke… for the very last time. The drive from there back home was washed off by the countless tear drops which hit his soul.

He: Why all this?
She: What do you mean?
He: Why did it take you two years to know who you really wanna be with?

(She hits the mute mode)

He: We have to talk, ok? For me and for you!
She: I used to love you.
He: When and why?
She: What do you mean?
He: Just cause you never managed to get his attention? Wasn’t that why you signed up for me? Ohh and add to that, FREE GIFTS!!!
She: Calm down!
He: I’m sorry. I just wanted to finish this dialog and be done with.
She: I’m sorry. I didn’t know things would turn up like this.
He: Common!! think about it. You didn’t know? Is that the best you could come up with?
She: (sobbing) I’m sorry…
He: DOWN with those tears girl!!! We aren’t discussing the probability of us getting married here. Thats long over. All I want to know is about why you put me through this pyre?
She: What do you want me to tell you?
He: The truth. Whatever it is…
She: You sound as though you know it all.
He: I do. But I’d want you to tell me so that its itched onto me and I get rid of your torturous thoughts.
She: I don’t love you anymore.
He: I know that. Crystal. Since forever now. Tell me why. Thats what I want to hear.
She: I’m sorry.
He: Please!!!!!!!!! stop with the apologies. (he broke down) Why apologize when there is no forgiving? I’ve got nothing against you. You just want to be happy and I’m not good enough.
She: No… its not that, its my fault, not yours.
He: God, thats the worst cliche in the book luvey.
She: I’m sorry… I…
He: Lets leave. Thanks for your company thus far. It has been 2 and a half years of bliss hidden deviously behind the illusion you created. I can’t thank you enough for all the times you’ve heard me out. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone as madly as I’ve loved you. I’m letting go and I know thats what you want. I don’t quite know how I’m going to do without you.
She: I’ll miss you too…
He: Shhhhhhhhhhh…. don’t say that.
She: But…
He: No, you have no say in this. Lastly, all I have to say is that you look just as beautiful as you looked today even when you’re in your sweats. I can’t promise about going away without the final struggle. There’ll be tears and phone calls. Deal with it. You know me better than I know myself. Please be patient with me. Now, give me a hug…

(They hug and walk towards the car)

“Hey! Happy Valentines day dude, its 12:02 and you’re the first one I wished!!” he shifted back to 2nd gear and then to first as he slowed down. “Turn left and stop, thanks for dropping me home” Jassi said as he watched tears well up in his eyes. “You have a good one man…” he waved as he sped off. “Happy Valentines day luvey…” he muttered and then there was light! He twitched again,

-Anup

P.S: All the charecters in the plot above are REAL! Sue me.

A timeless story.

I’d like to begin with this:

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then the one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you’re older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone the song is over, thought I’d something more to say

I’ve been wanting to write something about ‘time’ since times immortal. But then, time happens to be a very complicated subject to talk about; for me, cause its bundled up with nostalgia. Now nostalgia as we all know can be pleasant sometimes and disturbing on other occasions. I choose not to experiment with luck these days and I’m trying to avoid unnecessary thoughts. Especially since its nearing the 14Th of February. Hrmphh, guess I’ll surely come up with something by then cause I’m celebrating one year of worry less life on that date. A year of life after the shackles were broken, a year since I began sleeping peacefully and a year since love ended. Or so I want to believe. Couple of days more! Wow, now that’s an accomplishment and come to think of it now, god damn! Its a year since the misery (mine and her) ended. Well, more on that later.

For now, I was pondering about how much time I’ve wasted and its true what they say, time and tide, once gone never return! I’ve wasted a lot of my time doing things I should have avoided. Its pointless cursing myself now but then I’m going to take up this opportunity to remind myself of how big an imbecile I am to have whistled away those many hours, those precious seconds. I should have been utilizing the nanoseconds god gave me by doing something worthwhile. Its during times of self-inspection like these that I realize that I haven’t respected time and thereby I haven’t been fair towards my Karma or my purpose in life. I was certainly not made for loitering around malls buying random stuff that I may or may not need, sometimes for someone else who in the end was all geared up to crush my heart!

Now, you’ll would probably wonder about why I’ve suddenly come to this moral epiphany. Its more than just a divine manifestation of thoughts in my head giving birth to these rather sad feelings in my heart. This is me looking into what I’ve done thus far with my life and a retrospective self-justification to myself. A feeble attempt at telling myself to step up and grab life by its crotch! Sadly, I guess I’m just a fat fuck lost in melancholy. I dug deeper into the time I’ve lived thus far hoping to find a story worth telling. A story that’s devoid of variations caused by my will to shine. I went quickly past my work life and the part of my life that I’d like to forget the most – college. Arghhh, that was horrid! Except of course for Prab. Prab is an amazing person and I’m sure he’ll be there with my for the rest of my life as my only gain from the limited time I spent in college. I had to track back right up to grade 4 when I was a stupid kid who knew nothing but Malayalam. A kid trying to even it out with the many bright kids that plagued his classroom. This happened to me and this incident makes me feel like I’m alive – even today! I can nearly feel the worry of a little boy. I can feel his apprehension and I can still heave the same sigh of relief that I did 16 years ago. It was all about a pencil…

Satya was this awesome sport man who was loved by all. He was a teachers pet cause he looked cute and I guess the girls dug him right from then. We were supposed to use pencils when working on our ‘classwork’ books so that we don’t ruin it. Later on, once the teacher checks it we’d get to re-write it in the fair copy with a pen. Or if I remember right that happened after the 5Th grade when pens came into picture. Fountain pens mind you. Ball pens were taboo! Heh, silly things like thee make me want to go right back in time and be seated next to one of my classmates. Those pesky, rather nasty beings who had everything but love for a fellow who hadn’t studied for his exams. They’d try their level best to cover up what they wrote on their answer papers. Copying was for the scum of the class, the last benchers. I’ve strayed away… precisely what happens when I write about events close to my heart.

So, yes, Satya. Satya had this beautiful red pencil which he had acquired from someone who had recently returned from ‘abroad’. Abroad here implies a place outside of our knowing. It could be the US of A or it could be the street next to my house that I don’t know of. This pencil; it was the object of envy for me from the day I saw him draw lines with it in his geometry book. I wanted it so bad that I stared at it and hoped that it’d hear my plea and come running to me. Satya could never negate the pencils will! It wanted to come to me, so it did. My concentrated efforts led to nothing but scornful looks from Satya. Probably wondering about why I had my eyes set on his amazing pencil box. Ohh, if I did not mention it, he had a double decker pencil box where he could neatly stack up pencils, scales, rubbers (as we called it then and I dare not refer to an eraser as a rubber now. Heh, we’ve ruined English) and everything else that he could own and did not want to share. I had the old scratchy camlin geometry box that I hated since the time I saw his box. On this specific (but lucky day I might add) he was seated next to Vinod B, an Einstein in the making. I had gone through my ritual of staring at all the cool stuff these cool kids had and gotten back to being my unappreciative self. I was at that point in time cursing dad for not buying me new white shoes. As I cursed on, I heard something fall, ever so gently; as if it was meant only for my ears and then I saw it roll over to my feet; as if it was meant for me! I was filled with incessant joy. It was the pencil. The red pencil I so wanted. It even had a red conical ending to its top portion from where the lead began. I caught a glimpse of Satya and Vinod talking and I hoped that neither of them noticed what I was up to. I slowly slid the pencil under my feet and began gleefully talking to my partner. The bell rang, the kids got up and made a run for it. They all just wanted to go home. I had pocketed the pencil by this time and had rushed out with the rest of my peers. I just wanted to get the hell outta school and rush home. I’d hide it away and shower it with all my love I thought.

The next day was Friday and I was destined to be stupid that day. The first bell rang and we sang the national anthem and settled down with class work. Here is where I extracted the red beauty which was neatly hidden in my camlin box which looked as though it had survived brutal carnage. I began writing away with it. The text I wrote appeared so beautiful that I was lost in its beauty. By this time Satya probably noticed that he was missing his awesome pencil and had begun freaking out. He turned around and caught a glimpse of me with his pencil. Here he went, “Hey, that’s mine!” and I go all crooked eyed and sly. “What? No, this is mine. Uncle got it for me from Dubai” Uhhh, alright, I had no one in the US of A then, OK? “But mine looked exactly like that and I don’t have it anymore” he said looking all perplexed and slightly embarrassed at being unable to differentiate between his pencil and mine. We spoke about it for a while and he seemed to carry on with his work. Crisis averted I thought and continued on my gleeful journey with the red stick of lead. The period after lunch arrived and here we had our class teacher, Mrs. Shirke walk in. We quickly finished our after-lunch prayer and settled down for a boring class. After lunch classes usually meant a lot of snoring, boring, farting and cranky kids. Mrs. Shirke was talking to Satya and I noticed her turned towards the class unhappy about our dishonesty. I chose my lie to be our collective failure. I just decided to ignore what was going on and continued yapping with my partner. Here Mrs. Shirke shrieked, “Anup!!! Stand up…” I stood up with a sheepish grin. “What are you smiling about?’ she questioned. “Nothing miss” I said meekly trying to avoid eye contact. “Ok, you come here now” she said. i walked up and stood next to Satya. Here she began questioning me:

Miss: Have you taken Satya’s pencil? The red one?
Me: Me? No miss, I have only one red pencil and I bought it from Mayur shop near my house.
Satya: Haaaa… miss, he’s lying. Yesterday he told me that his uncle bought it for him from Dubai!!!
Me: Noooooooo miss… I bought it from Mayur.
Miss: Ok Anup, you buy the same pencil for Satya and he’ll give you the money. He’s lost his pencil.
Me: Ok miss.
Satya: How much money?
Me: 10 rupees (that was the largest amount I could think of then)
Miss: Now go to your seats both of you stupid boys.

Satya looked disgusted cause he knew I was lying and he quietly went over to his seat and sat down. Here on I experienced a surge of guilt and remorse and it was nothing like what I had ever felt. I was sad and lost throughout the weekend not knowing what to do. I couldn’t’t talk about this to my parents or anyone else for that matter cause I had stolen what was rightfully someone else’s. I had broken all the values my parents and my school had taught me. I did try to justify myself once in a while. I did not steal it, you know? It just rolled into my pencil back, didn’t it? I spent Sunday trying desperately to find a pencil like that in Mayur. I remembered dad telling one of his friends, “Mayur is a good general store, avide ammem pengalem oyichu ellam kittum” translated – You get everything except a mom and a sister. Mayur wala also couldn’t help me. I was lost and could not find sleep. I even tried avoiding school on Monday but mom was mighty smart; she ducked under my lie and sent me packing.

As I sat on my desk expecting the worst to happen, I could hear the kids call me all kinds of names. Chor, chortya, dhaprya. These are all variations of the word ‘thief’ I was expecting the worst. First period, prayer done. I prayed hard this time. Mrs. Shirke looks at us sternly and begins teaching. I could feel the seconds go by in milliseconds. I thought she’d take this matter up after the class ended. To my amazement, neither she nor did Satya come up with this unsolved case. Then the next period slipped by and then another. I couldn’t eat and I wasn’t able to be my usual self. Slowly but surely the day went by and I couldn’t believe my luck. They actually forgot. The entire class of 40+kids and the teacher forgot about it in over two days. What kinda luck god did I pray to? I hid the pencil away and never bought it to school after that. The days slipped by and no one ever spoke about the pencil. I don’t have the pencil anymore, but I have its memory and I can still remember how it looked in my hands. Someone else’s prized possession. It looked sad and stolen. I’d never forget those few weeks. I spoke with Satya recently and told him about what had happened then. He was completely blank about this ever happening. I sometimes wonder if Mrs. Shirke and he let it go on purpose. Just cause they were angels in disguise. I was a lovely kid. I never stole after that.

Aha! I feel refreshingly awesome now. Even though its 2:30 AM and I have had a rough day at work. its memories like these that keep me going. For all the time I’ve wasted, its memories like these which seem to make up! Thanks Satya.

-Anup

Good night…

Romantic books and movies have engulfed me off late and I’ve been reading extensively on a subject thats delicate and something that brings me very close to creativity and words – love. Its 12:45 AM and I’m about to crash. The sandmans here but I’ve kept him waiting cause I needed to write this down.

To my dear dearest,

As night falls,
And yet again,
As sleep calls,
I hope;
With you I be…
In all the dreams I see.

Good night.

-Anup

Raw cut, served fresh – Anup Menon

I was being paranoid the whole day today about how I don’t take care of myself and about how that lands me in trouble. I ate at the new office canteen yesterday and thats where I caught this violent intestinal regurgitation; following which the undigested contents of my experiment with fate yesterday were forcibly expelled. Out of my mouth, mind you. Disgusting! I suffered from food poisoning and I’ve promised to never eat at work again. So while I was taking care of myself and as I watched Yuvraj and Sehwag thrash the Sri Lankans, I found this notepad where I had randomly written stuff about myself.

Now, I’m probably obsessing about myself here, but then, what the hell? This is my place. Here goes:

  • My name is Anup S Menon, S for Sasidharan, thats my dads name and he is my Idol.
  • My family includes and is limited to: My dad (Sasi Menon), My mom (Usha S Menon), younger sister (Sneha S Menon) and me!
  • I have loads of cousins and I’ve other family spread across everywhere; Kerala, Bangalore and the US of A!
  • I wouldn’t say that I love them, but I surely think about them once in a while. I like it when I speak to them.
  • I spent my entire life (upto around 4 months ago) in Pune, Maharashtra.
  • I did my schooling from Kamal Nayan Bajaj High school a convent in Pune.
  • I loved my school and everything about it and thats a section of my life that I’d never forget.
  • I used to have loads of friends there and I’ll never forget them. I get nostalgic once in a while and I miss them all a lot!
  • I still have some friends from school who keep in touch, some courtesy orkut.
  • I did my Junior college and my Bachelors from D.Y.Patil college, Pimpri, Pune.
  • I never liked my college and I hardly ever attended classes.
  • During the times I bunked college, I used to frequent cyber cafes and chat on the IRc network – DALnet.
  • I learned a lot of stuff during those times, cool things like, Linux, Windows, servers, clients and so on.
  • Thats where my fascination for computers began and its never ended, I still make my living off these machines.
  • I loathe the people of my college and whatever it is that they did for girls and cheap thrills.
  • I sincerely hated the porn they drew on the college desks and the dirty cheap talk they did, apparently, to impress girls! I mean, what?
  • I failed all of my dads dreams about me, when it came to educating myself, I was a failure.
  • My dad wanted me to be an Engineer, huh; isn’t that a cliche? Every dad wants his son to be an Engineer or a doctor these days.
  • I seriously never wanted to slog or fight a losing battle with those huge books cause I always knew that they weren’t my friends.
  • I managed to graduate myself somehow and trust me, I have no clue of how I did it.
  • I began working at the age of 20, Argo Tech, Pune.
  • I was not particularly happy with the fact that I was a prodigal son and my dad was awesome; he helped me throughout. Never left my hand.
  • Mom looked up the newspapers for me and found for me a place that’d decide my future – Convergys.
  • Convergys gave me everything from information to wealth, from friends to a girl friend.
  • I worked there for 2 years, 7 months and 3 days. I loved the place then and I love the place now. I still miss it very much.
  • A few of my assets from there – Abhijit, Manoj, Sanket, Smita, Smikh & Muiz.
  • I lost a couple of them to love and I feel sad that I’d miss them for all my life, but I guess thats how the world works.
  • A few of them have stood by and are my closest friends to date.
  • Thus, Convergys, I must say has been a place thats given me loads.
  • I learnt what I know now all because of it and I’m well placed now at HP, because of it. Thanks a lot!
  • Continuing from there, I got a pretty nice job with HP, Bangalore and thats where I am as of now.
  • My life is currently a cycle of cliches and I feel ok about it.
  • I find those cliches to be better than unexpected shocks, know what I mean?
  • I am proud to say that I have madly loved and lost! Some say its better than to have never loved at all.
  • She has given me memories that I’d never forget and I’m thankful for it.
  • She has taught me lessons that I’d always remember and I’d use them to better myself.
  • Friends are people I’ve always lacked, but I’m thankful for the handful I have as of now.
  • These few, I can say are really MY friends. I’ve managed to differentiate between the hypocrites and the good ones. Ohh, thanks again to love.
  • I own a car – A Maruti Swift and I’m super happy that I own it cause it makes my life much easier.
  • I live in a rented flat very close to my Uncle; thus I’m well fed and I maintain my weight.
  • I’m plumpily plump; which means I’m very plump.
  • My sister says that my height seems to cover for it, but no! I feel I’m fat cause I FEEL fat.
  • Thats one of my resolutions for this year and I’ll work hard over it.
  • I love rock music and my favourite bands include, Staind, Poets of the Fall, Daughtry, Pink Floyd and a few others.
  • I love movies and I can be a buff once in a while, where I watch one move at 10 AM, one at 12:35 PM, one at 4:00PM and the last at 10:00 PM, all on the same day, ohh yeah, I can do that. To top it off, I’d be alone when I do this.
  • I read as and when I can and I love reading, just that I haven’t had time off late. +favs: All of Dan Brown, Most of Paulo Coelho, Chetan Bhagat and I really liked The Kite Runner.
  • Writing is one of my passions and I seem to derive immense pleasure when I get the right flow. I can write for hours listening the same song over and over again for hours if I get the right subject. Most of what I write is personal though and I really feel the need to move into greener lands and reach out to people.
  • I’m an Agnostic, but I respect people who believe in what they want to.
  • I have myopia and its at an all time high of -5.75 R -5.00 L and it sucks that I’m practically blind when I take off the glasses.
  • Sometimes I feel like I suffer from OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I feel like repeating what I do till the time I’m perfect.
  • I overexpect from people and I’ve been treated for that recently.
  • I’m a vegeterian.
  • I’m happy whenever I can be.
  • I’ve been accused of being a sexist; but the truth is… I’m too much in love with the fairer sex and I just can’t hate them!
  • I do not drink (consume alcohol) or smoke (tobacco, weed and its brothers and sisters)
  • Finally, the only reason I feel sorry; is for hurting my parents.
  • If you’d read me someday dad – please know that I am trying hard. I’ve just been stupid!
  • Also, I’m still not sure about the person I am; is it wrong if you’re a soft hearted guy? A guy who’d cry? Someone who’d be hurt easily? I loved myself more when I was in love and I’d miss the emotion forever.
  • To end this, hey you, yes you; if you’re reading me; thanks for everything!

-Anup

No strings attached.

I learnt all of a sudden and as an unwanted revelation that I live amongst people who have no strings attached. They aren’t attached to anyone who are not their own. Greedy and selfish all the more, these people plague my life. Most of the people I meet have words which they vomit like it’s an involuntary push in them. Most of the words they use are words which have no meaning and even if they have sense attached to it; it turns out to be information you cannot trust. Actions, as I believe happen to be an aftermath of words already used and thought off. Words, as we all know are like bullets; once fired, you cannot regain control of them. Most of the people I know happen to be ignorant about what they say, including me; I’d say. I have had so many occasions where my seniors and people I trust have walked up to me and corrected me. Told me that I’ve been wrong on these occasions and that I must change the way I react to my environment.

Something out of nothing:

People, busy and running after more time…
Days, months and years aren’t enough they say,
They need more to earn their dime.
Loveless and without a heart,
We continue pulling our square wheeled cart.

There seems to be no hope,
Cause all I see is people cry;
As per them, money and time are to elope!
I try to run away sometimes,
Where are my people with whome I’d give a try?
They’re all stuck up within time’s crimes.

So I pull myself out of the wreckage,
Scarred but alive, hurt but I survive.
I’m surrounded by this apocalyptic wasteland,
And here’s where I meet people who, for love are parched,
But are brave enough to say, “Hey! No strings attached.”

No strings attached. This was a statement someone used a while back. It’s a statement that shakes me out of my veins because of the complexity involved. I believe, as per the way I’ve lived that there are strings that connect to me and from me to the people around me. Those I call friends and family. That’s the way I talk to myself and make-believe that I’m really alive. I like the strings and I need them desperately. How odd is it that some people do not have any strings attached. Sentiments and emotions are nothing more than clichéd remade fables which they hate, experiences that happen to them every day and something that they choose to ignore with a certain amount of pleasure.

I hate myself for being emotionally overshadowed by people who don’t care. I know it very well that they don’t mean much when they say the things they do. They don’t care much about how I feel or why I do the things I do. It’s always been weird that everyone I’ve loved has always wanted something from me. Unconditional love is something I’ve never experienced. It must be a wonderful feeling, wouldn’t it? I mean, when you own someone and someone owns you back.Heh, unconditional love! Bullshit. I understand that there are people who like to maintain the distance and I agree that it’s essential when you live in such a sticky world! All so full of people who are so fragile that they break their hearts themselves and all so full of people like me who hurt themselves all so often. But then, sometimes, try and be human? How difficult is that? I find it very difficult to comprehend the mental state of people who are ignorant and callous. People, who can ignore another person and what he/she feels, people who are nothing more than assoholic backstabbers. I pity their very existence. I don’t have anything more to say. I’m done, tired and worried about why people are – the way they are. I hate em’ all.

-Anup

The smaller things in life.

I’ve always been in love with the smaller things in life. I’d take my time to savour every second of such an occasion and my brains full of these tiny but important things. Come to think of it now, I don’t like thinking of the more complicated problems I or anyone else has for that matter. I’m better off in my world of bits and tinier bits.

I was talking to Ruch yesterday and it was from there that I had this whole thought of expressing whatever was in my heart. Again, I’ve not yet learnt the basic instinct where we humans think and act from different parts of our body. For me, its all heart and I’d want to change but I can’t seem to help myself now. Ruch was telling me about her small squabbles at home and how it affects her. The weird feeling in me was about how drabby life would be without these small fights at home. No reason to cry, no reason to apologize, fights with mom and siblings, a sibling who adores you, a father who acts tough but isn’t and most importantly the food mom cooks! Foods the reason for all make-ups at my place. We’d all have to face each other at the table, whatever the fight be!

I sometimes feel like I’m watching the world around me from a distance and I look at all those people running around for glitz, glamour and glory. I’m confused, do I really want to be a part of the mob or am I happy where I am; this distant space in time where its just me and I’m looking at the world? I’m not a part of the race. I don’t feel the need to excel in anything. I don’t feel like competing cause I always find myself running on a different plateau and I’m tired of running. Why should I bother competing with myself? I can see everyone else running a race they’d never finish. Trying desperately to outrun everyone else. And in this feeble attempt at winning life’s race they’d forget to wait and notice whats whizzing by. Its beauty unlike what they’ve ever seen. I am contented with what I have and with the way I live life but I feel the need to share the infinite joys I find in smaller things and I find no one to share it with cause everyone else is running. I know, I might sound depressing. But then, think about it how many of us have the time to:

  • Wake up in the morning and look at the rising sun and feel its warmth.
  • Talk to the watchman and share a smile.
  • Take out your own garbage.
  • Let that stray dog walk with you silently.
  • Take a walk and observe people.
  • Think about aliens and wonder about life on other planets.(HELL YEAH!!)
  • Dig your nose on an idle tuesday afternoon. At work? Then notice the people around and pretend that you have an irritable itch.

I can think of many more small reasons to feel happy for life but then I feel the world around me has turned anhedonic and what makes them happy is success, power, money and everything else thats nothing but temporary. I guess people would laugh at me for being a dorky dreamer or a whacko freak but then I’ve learnt to not give a shit and then again – Ignorance is bliss! I feel sad for myself cause I’m part of the mob and I sometimes tend to flow in its flow. Here again, I remember the time when I was in love. Man!! I so miss those seconds… those seconds when I watched her walk back home and I waited for her to fade off, waited for her to whisper a ‘love you’ as she clenched onto my jelly belly and we drove off to nowhere, watched her eyes close ever so slowly as we kissed; seemed like eons of neverending glee… THEN! Now, I don’t quite know what to make of all of that. I’m just part of the move on generation and all I can do is move on ever so nonchalant, lost for words and love.

-Anup

Education – overrated.

Burdened by books
Burdened by books

I’ve always been strongly opiniated about the fact that education isn’t merely restricted to the letters you add to your name and the data you can mug up in order to attain those degrees and letters. Mugging up or by-hearting as we call it has been something I’ve despised from the time I started dealing with the harsh reality of not being a very bright student, or so they declared – average. An average student. Why? Like I said in my previous post, a B+ was the best letter on my score card and I was proud of my achievement because mugging up was the hardest thing for me to do. I couldn’t quite understand its need. Why should I mug up? I could never absorb the meriting system in school and shrunk away from any kind of competitive exams. These were ruled by the so called brighter blob of the mob that we were. A mob of culturally, intellectually and linguistically different people. The cream, I remember, consisted of a handful of kids who either had photogenic memory (lucky by birth) or the sloggers; those who burnt the night oil all through the year (academically forward by choice). I wouldn’t classify either of these two sets of people as “intelligent” though. These were and are kids who manage to vomit information onto the answer paper. Doesn’t make them anymore intelligent than what I am.

Intelligent, as far as I’m concerned are those kids who can reason. Those who can answer by giving solutions to problems and not spilling out solutions given by someone else. Intelligence is the watermark which differentiates people who can absorb, understand and radiate; contradicting the current theory that kids who have a good academic track record are intelligent. They are good with books, no doubt but thats just about where the comparison ends. I used to hate being in competition with any of these nerds. I have had my way with books and I’d want it to be that way. I have never mugged up and I will never do it in the future either. Its alright if that makes me a failure. I have my principles and I will live by them. Also, not to forgot, I have met very few people whom I consider intelligent and Sanket is one of them. We call him scientific Sanket, just for kicks. This is a guy you could turn to for reasons on anything and everything. Luckily, he isn’t the kinds who’d slog either. Thats precisely what I like about him. He’s plain intelligent. No more flattery. Another thing I’ve learnt from him is that intelligent people (the real ones) tend to be people who cannot accept the fact that they can be wrong once in a while, they are arrogant (mostly) and most of them think of you and me as pests. Just my hypothesis. Its alright if there are no takers to my thesis.

The education system we have in India has been flawed forever now and even though I see some improvements cropping up now especially in parts of Kerala, the overall dearth in intelligent people lead me to believe that we need an awakening. The possibility of which is very grim since we currently have a fatherhood of people who are from the immediate post-independance era. Thus, according to them, education is limited to what is taught in school, whats mugged up and puked out. Its in your head only if its in your scorecard. I’m hoping, from the pit of my heart that things change. Education be more interactive and thought provoking than what it is. There should be optional subjects of study. And as far as choosing a stream of study, a profession and everything along its path, this should be left upto the individual. All the parents must do is to support him/her in whatever way they can. I sometimes see the plight of little kids carrying bagpacks twice their own size. I’ve known of 12 year old kids who don’t play anymore because they have three competitive exams coming up and they have homework. So what about the simpler, more important pleasures in life as a kid? What about playing games, falling and hurting yourself, teasing and be teased, friendship? I mean, would all of this be limited to the walls engulfing the little ones along with stacks of never ending books? I shudder at the very thought of such a fate!

I’m sometimes amazed at how I achieved what I did. How did I ever complete 12 years of schooling and around 6 years of college (Junior and Senior) I have no clue of how I managed to get that Bachelors degree. I cross my heart and hope to die, I haven’t mugged up ever since I was like what 10. I still managed to clear and not only clear, I did average on most occasions. Until there was the time when I was the prodigal son who broke a fathers dream and instead of going into Engineering I turned to a stream I knew I’d never be happy in – Commerce. I had to do that cause I scored outrageously bad in my 12th boards. I faintly remember those years and I can’t stop smiling. There was this godly hand above me else I’d never have cleared academics. Dad still seems to dwelve in the possibility of me educating myself further. I always lose in a debate or an argument when it comes to dad because I can’t yell at him like he can. That’d mean I’m being disrespectful. After a certain point its just waiting… waiting for the collosal damage being done to whatever I’ve accomplished so far to end. Waiting in brutal agony. Sometimes, I think about ways in which I could make him happy. But then, guess what? There isn’t any. He seems to have given up on me. His son couldn’t be an Engineer. Pfft, loser. Anyway, here’s a public apology father. I’m very sorry I couldn’t accomplish your dreams for me. I wasn’t made to study a course which required a lot of money and dedication. I’m too much in love with life and I’d like to LIVE every second of it. I never wanted to be an Engineer. And yes, I couldn’t be one even if I wanted to be. I do not understand derivatives and integration and trigo. I don’t understand their purpose in my life. It was too much of a burden on me anyway. WARNING: no misconceptions here. I love my dad very much. I couldn’t get him what he wanted and I feel sorry about it but he’s my role model. I wish I was as perseverant as he is. I wish I was as awesome as he is! But dad, lets agree? Educated today is overrated and I’m a living testament to the fact that you can do well without an Engineering degree. Booyah!

-Anup