Sinking Thursday, March 26, 2009 |
So here I am with my CGPA staring at me. I have been avoiding the calculation for a really long time and when I finally did; wham it hit me on the face. I was really upset for the first half of the day but in the evening I finally sat down and thought. I checked my armoury. Pulled out my latest tools and said, "This is it boy. This is your challenge."
I am tired of complaining about it to others. I have never been a dependent guy. Always self motivated, I don't remember going to help to somebody in school. This was not arrogance. The reason I say it was not arrogance was that I was humbled by his presence. Back then, I had a ritual. I used to lie on my bed and then get up to drink a little water. Then I used to call out to him and discuss the day. He too shared his experiences. All this while my eyes were closed. It was a lot of fun and I really looked forward to that part of the day. After a minute, I used to lie down and peacefully go to sleep. However, he left me in college. Rather, it was me who left him. Never did I speak a word when I was happy and experiencing new things. I called him once or twice I wanted something but I could only hear silence asserting its presence. Two and half years in college and I have been humbled. Today I am going to drink water again. I will call out to him. I know he is angry but I know him better than anybody. I will call out to him every night and talk. He will talk back one day. I know. I know for sure.
Labels: Faith, Memoirs
Holi Thursday, March 12, 2009 |
Sweet dreams are memories
Who am I to disagree
It is ringing in my head. It is ringing in my head beautifully. I can hear it so well. I remember the time when George, Sanjit, Surya and I were on the terrace and we sang this marvellous song. Today I sang it. Alone.
I could not celebrate Holi. I wanted to celebrate Holi. I really did. I love it more than Diwali. For me, it is the time of joy. But I could not. I was in the train. I missed being home.
P.S. Being alone does not mean being sad.
Labels: Memoirs, old monk
I was visibly glum and tired in the hot afternoon at the Aroha station in North Malaysia. Tired because it had been a long day already and Glum because I had only 4 RM in my pocket. I was hungry but I could not afford anything (I hate a hungry stomach). It was only 4pm. There was still half an hour for the train for Kuala Lumpur to arrive. I had nothing to do except reflect on my bad financial decisions in the last week.
Beer in Lekha Lekha : 20 RM ( A bottle of Chivas Regal costed only 40RM in Langkawi Duty Free *Sadness*)
Upper Birth in Train : 7 RM extra
Wrong Package offer in Genting Highland : 15RM
Taxi instead of metro from Petaling : 3 RM
(While the first two can be attributed to recklessness, the last two were purely informational errors.)
Instinctively, I took my wallet out and stared at it as if I was angry. I saw a little greenery in the innermost pocket in my wallet. Curious I looked through it. Voila! Out came a crinkled 1 US Dollar. It was followed by 2 others. Well I almost shrieked! It was unbelievable. I ran and showed it to my teammates who were excited as well. I muttered a thanks to God. What had happened was that I had brought exactly 133 USD to Malaysia. I did not have the heart to convert all my money and conveniently put 3 USD in my wallet. What a smart decision in hindsight. *Pats on back*. Well the story does not end here. To try my luck once more, I jumped in the inner depths of my wallet. And Ladies and Gentlemen there was another light at the end of the tunnel. Out came our very own Rs 100. I don't even remember when I had stored that money. And like this our little tourist was 16 RM rich and was able to buy dark chocolates.
Labels: Malaysia, Memoirs, Serendipity