Category: Yesterday

  • Transience

    Its comforting to walk about, and intuitively know the way around, without ever having to pause and think..the familiar roads and buildings, and places that are significant thanks to the associations they have with yesteryear life.

    Its soothing to catch up with people who you haven’t spoken to in years, and still be able to have a conversation which you feel had been left off  only the day before, about friends and friends of friends, where they are and what they do..

    And as you walk around, its also a bit unsettling to find out that some old landmarks have been replaced with swanky buildings, the roads don’t look the way it used to, desolate buildings that you stare at and say “I used to know some people here”, new street names and sometimes whole new streets have cropped up.

    And when you look around, you miss a few old faces, that used to smile at you from shopfronts…nameplates that you thought would remain forever, have been replaced, bringing new characters and creating new stories.

    And sometimes, as you talk, you understand that even the old characters have changed, perhaps without even them knowing it.

    And that’s when you realise that there’s something both sweet, and sour about having a town you can call home. A home where your life and memories were shaped, and which is now being reshaped by others’ dreams, and lives.

    And as places fade away and landscapes change, you are reminded of sand slipping through your fingers, even as you try to hold on. What remains are those tiny flecks, to give you memories, and to remind you of the fleeting nature of it all…..

    until next time, mortality

  • The real inflation

    And the nation cringes as the inflation goes way beyond 8%, and threatens to go even more. A litre of petrol, which was about Rs.20, when i first started using it, now costs well over Rs.50.
    I remember the kind of vehicles that used to accompany mine in the petrol stations. A few Ambassadors and Fiats, on their way to extinction, a lot of Maruti- the normal 800 as well as Omnis and the occasional Esteem, and mostly two wheelers. The scene has changed with global brands vying for the customer’s attention. So we have the Hyundais and Fords and Chevrolets and Skodas bringing out bigger and costlier cars that are aimed to showcase its user’s affluence and highlight his standing, which is er, a little above that of his peers.?
    Of course, the way he behaves on the road would make you doubt this premise.I have very often, in the course of conversations, heard the owners of the big cars complaining about how their cars guzzle fuel. And how they feel the pressure when the petrol prices go up. And i have always wondered that even if we manage to control inflation, will we ever find a way to control inflated egos.

    until next time, pricks… for the ego

  • The Cybernauts

    Was reading a book a few weeks back – The Cybergypsies by Indra Sinha, which was a kind of autobiographical take on the early days of the internet, thats starting around the mid eighties. Its a tale of the early cybernauts, their addiction to the internet and how their real and virtual lives fought each other for attention and threatened to engulf each other.
    It took me back to the turn of the century, my early days online, when the net of Indra Sinha was well on its way to becoming the worldwide web it is today. It reminded me of the a/c internet cafes, visits to which were not so frequent because of the steep costs, and the dimly lit computer labs in the university which had only the unreliable vsnl connection.The days of IRC and chats with unknown angels and merlins and superboys, the arcade games, the imaginary worlds created among friends across geographies, in a way, it was almost the kind of life the early cybernauts led.
    And when you were asked what exactly you spent hours in front of a computer for, you really couldn’t explain what made it so worthwhile. The days of usa.net and eudoramail and theglobe.com, names which have bitten cyberdust quite a whileback. I still have a friend from those days, almost a decade of only virtual friendship, well, almost, since she sent me flowers for my wedding 🙂
    And then came the initial days of blogging, and friends made on rediffblogs, people whom I did not know really, but with whom i shared thoughts, and rants. And, that, i guess where virtuality started ending and reality started taking over. There were blog meets and the imaginary worlds created carefully gave way to the cafes of the real world.
    It took a turn with orkut and co, where the networks were used to get in touch with people you already knew in your real life. And these days, on twitter, i meet a few who i used to know during the rediff days, but gone are the days of anonymity, for my linkedin profile would readily tell people who i was in the real world.
    i miss those days, because there was only communication and a conversation among equals then. No virtual celebrities, no social media experts, no snobs, everything was virtual, your imagination and thoughts were the only thing that mattered, virtuality was a shell you could retreat to when the real world became too unbearable. Its different now, virtuality and reality are too enmeshed, and as with everything else in the world, behind every virtual interaction, there is a real intention. This must be Cybernauts 2.0

    until next time, really virtual

  • Value for money

    A term that is bandied about a lot these days, especially since we live in an era of consumer monsters, who insist on getting every paise’s worth. But i remember the time when two of the words were used differently, and remember the generation which worked hard to make us understand the value of money. That generation lived most of their life before liberalisation, and are yet to come to terms with the plethora of choices that are now on offer.

    It hit me a few days back, when I was sitting in a desserts joint working my way through a chocolate mound, and saw a man, perhaps in his early sixties looking into the shop, and for a fleeting second, at me. The melancholic look said it all. The look of a man, who has perhaps spent an entire working life making sure that his family was well provided for, that his kids got a good education, and they had a home they could call their own, and while doing all these, mostly missed out on things that he’d like to have done.

    And now, when the kids are all grown up, and he finally has the time, he realises the world has changed, and the value of money has been drastically altered, and that the plans he might have made are rendered useless, thanks to the prices and the amount of people who are capable of and willing to pay a premium for the same services. People, like his own children, who work hard to make sure they earn enough to pay the premium, and end up not having enough time for the people who kickstarted their lives.

    Long ago, when he gave up that new shirt piece, so that his child could have a new toy, could he have imagined that one day, his child could buy shirts from brands he thought would never see in India, but not have time to remember the toy his father had once bought for him? Could he have imagined this was the way it would all turn out to be? And after he looks at me through the window that separates our worlds, i look at myself, and wonder whether it’ll all work out the way we plan, or will we also be unable to comprehend the lives we bring out into the world?


    until next time, values

  • Long before we had single button publishing…….

    A few days back, a friend buzzed me on GTalk to ask if i was the kind who contributed to magazines. She had seen a 1996 issue of Reader’s Digest which had an item with my name and hometown, a combo which was too coincidental to not check out. And right she was.

    Took me back to 1996, second year of Engineering, a time of upheaval. I was still getting used to staying away from home, and books were something i clung on to, not the engineering type, but fiction, perhaps as a link to a life i left behind. And since RD was something we subscribed to, at home, i sometimes carried it to the hostel. Incidentally, Dad still subscribes, and when i go home, i still get laughs from ‘Humour in Uniform’,’Life’s Like that’ etc.

    I remember the time when, after reading the ‘Towards More Picturesque Speech’ section, I sat down to make spanking new oxymorons. It didn’t matter that i had no clarity on whether ‘Picturesque’ was made of two separate words i knew, though i couldn’t see what sense their joining made, or it was a totally new word. Meanwhile, dozens of oxymorons made their way to RD, but only a few managed to get published. Maybe they are still laughing at the ones that didn’t get published.

    In the old days of India Post exclusives, I waited for the postman to bring me news of RD accepting my entry and er, paying me. When, eventually they did, I also remember the thrill of getting paid, and for the first time, seeing my words and name on print. Of course, I was also asked to explain the humour in (for example) ‘Mutually Exclusive’ and why it got published. I usually failed. For that particular example, the one that got published in 1996, I remember the picture on the cover too, because that was the last entry i ever sent to RD. Something must have changed after that.

    Have you ever tried to look back into your past, a sort of bird’s eye view? And sometimes, while doing so, have you ever felt conflicting emotions? Sometimes I cannot understand myself and why i’d done things I did. And sometimes, I understand myself totally and wish someone had been there to give me a hug that I was longing for. And that still brings a lump to my throat. Maybe I haven’t changed after all.

    until next time, published