WHEN ARE YOU GETTING MARRIED?

To start with, will you please raise your hand if you have encountered with this question time and again:

“When are you getting married?”

All of us, I suppose, raised our hands , literally or otherwise.

Crossing over to the other half of my twenties some years back marked the beginning of my encounter with this question. Now that I am dangerously approaching the prefix of a new number in my age, the arithmetic progression of this question is not amusing. Some self-proclaimed unofficial spokersperson on the institution of marriage would want to know not only ‘when’ but also ‘why’ I should get married. In such a case, the by-now inevitable atom-bomb would start with a:

”Now that you have got a job………………”

Tempted as I am to discuss the over-emphasised and flawed inter- linkages given to marriage with job and age, let me use this short post to address the question of the question.

The discussion in the dhabas after the winter breaks in JNU would always include outbursts towards the uncles and the aunts who were bombarding us with the marriage question during the whole holiday season. There is a big difference between concern and nosey. At least, we were all in unison on the other side of the fence. Or so I thought. To my horror, lately, this question has even become rampant even among my peer groups. So fed up was I with the frequent encounter with the question, i devised this clever plan of asking everyone the same question before they get to ask me. This has been working and as much as I understand their annoyance, I have been thinking lately that, consciously or unconsciously, my friends might have been using this as a defence mechanism themselves. Also, winter season being the unofficial wedding season and the influx of wedding picture uploads in facebook makes sure the marriage question remains a trending topic and adds fuel to the fire.

My point here is, let us stop asking this question-which-i-don’t –even-wanna-type-again to each other at least. This is what really bothers me. Let us leave that to the annoying uncles and aunts. Because, if you are my friend, I will call you up personally when I make this very important decision of my life. And if you keep on enquiring before that, you might not even get a card. Just kidding.

I BELIEVE IN ANGELS…PART 2

Everyone who read the first part confessed to how breathless they were while reading. I wish I could promise to slow down. But then, this is a piece I am not enjoying writing, so my aim is to put the story across ASAP. Apologies. (I need smileys here).

Soon as we reached my cousins place in Mahipalpur, homies were already conveying their consoles. Suddenly, I got up, borrowed some cash from my sis and headed towards the airport again. In Delhi, the capital of the country and also the capital of hundreds of other negative adjectives, I knew I had less than a one per cent chance of retrieving my wallet. But it was like giving up the fight mid way. At least, I wanted to confirm it lost after a more detailed search n enquiry.

And owing to the problems I faced with the autos not permitted inside the terminals, this time I decided to take a taxi to the airport. THE TAXI STAND, a good walking distance, WAS COMPLETELY EMPTY. I chanced upon the only auto on the Delhi-Gurgaon highway, a kilometre from the airport. I got in the auto and pleaded with the autowala to take me to the airport bus stand. His asking price: Rs.100. I had no choice but to agree with this rate. Plus, he was getting an earful from me along the 1 km distance. I brought the price down to Rs.70 in the meantime.

Suddenly as we were approaching the bus stand, the auto driver took an unexpected turn and stopped the auto at another completely different corner from the bus stand. It was his fear of the traffic police that made him take the turn. Why?? I still dunno. Not in any more mood to argue, I gave him 100 and THEN he began to crib about ‘khulla’. This location was nearby a taxi stand so I asked him to go and look for it. Maybe I didn’t wait that long in the auto, but I was getting restless delaying myself for 30 bucks so I left the auto and ran towards the bus stand.

On the way, I saw the auto driver asking for change from a taxi driver. I changed course, I really didn’t know why, and ran towards my 30 bucks. As I reached them, the taxi driver and I immediately recognised each other. HE WAS THE SAME MAN WHO TOOK ME FROM THE BUS POINT TO THE DERPARTURE AND NOT ARRIVAL TERMINAL (refer PART 1). Mind you, there were numerous autos in the stands at that point. Then, explaining why I was there again, I asked him to take me to the terminal again. He readily agreed and we literally rushed towards his cab.

Then, as I got inside the cab….TADA….MY FREAKING WALLET WAS FLYING ON THE FREAKING FLOOR OF THE FREAKING TAXI.

I got Goosebumps all over my body. Both the taxi driver and I looked at each other speechless. I then shouted out to the auto driver to come over and the auto driver was also at a loss for words. I emptied all the monetary contents of my wallet and divided it between the two guys(I don’t carry much cash in my wallet, just in case u are admiring my generosity).

SOME FLASHBACKS:

*My brother in SBI was extremely busy since March is d end of the financial year and he was given extra work load that day. His phone was in Silent mode. 
*The auto driver on the way back, told me he got his licence that morning only. He was on a tea break with his friends and on an impulse, he decided to skip the break and the next thing he knew was me getting into his auto.

The auto driver, further added, that i have angels looking after me. I believe him. He was one. 

My mind was going through a thousand "what ifs" on my way back. I needed this experience. I leave it to everyone to read and hopefully be blessed in their own ways.

I BELIEVE IN ANGELS……Part 1

I am back to blogging after almost 3 years..has it really been that long???...so much has happened in my life but some things never change. Strange experiences always follow me….heres a recent one…too tired so I stopped here for today promising to bring out the next part soon.

March 15,2011: Skipped the seminar at Nehru Memorial Library at 3:30pm. Reason: Receiving my sister at IGI Airport,New Delhi.

Ok, first things first. I am not trying to justify myself but those of us who are familiar with the Delhi airport knows very well that it takes at least an hour getting down from the plane, collecting your luggages and heading towards the arrival exit.

Maybe some things are just meant to happen.

DRAMA 1:

My kid sister, visiting Delhi for the first time, was supposed to arrive at 5pm. So it was logical for me to plan my departure from jnu at 4.30pm estimating at least a half an hour wait after the arrival time.

4:30pm. JNU: my sister calls me from the airport telling me that she has reached Delhi and waiting for her luggage. This is the first time in my life that I encountered a flight reaching half an hour before the scheduled time. Talk about efficiency at the wrong time.

Now, to my horror, there were no autos willing to take me to the airport from JNU. Finally, I jumped inside an auto n forced the driver to drop me till the gate. I ignored the exorbitant rates and directly hopped into another auto from the gate. It is another matter that I got a very speed-limit conscious, law abiding driver on such a day.

4:50pm: Somewhere in Vasant Kunj proding auto driver to drive faster: Another call from sis. She’s waiting outside the airport.

DRAMA 2:

Kingfisher now operates from the International Terminal 3. Strangely, maybe one of AAI’s bright exploitative idea of beautification and modernisation, 3 to 4 kms from T3, autos are not allowed to pass. They do have bus services to take u to the terminals. I got up on the bus supposed to leave every 10 mins. 10 mins since I arrived but no sign of the driver. Another 5 mins and my patience ran out.

Upon tryin to get a lift, including unsuccessfully from a traffic patrol officer, I saw a slimy looking fella from behind offering to take me to the terminal for 300 bucks. I had no choice but daylight robbery is a strict no no so I managed to strike a 200 rs deal on our way to the taxi. And this guy, who I am not calling names, took me to the departure terminal and not the arrival (this!!!!after all the hullaballoo!!!!). Luckily, the Arrival terminal was just one floor below (One floor below= hundreds of steps+half the population of India+pls don’t even mention the lifts). I managed to meet my sister after a frentic hide and seek routine.

DRAMA 3:

As we hurried towards the Pre-paid taxi counter and I was about to pay for the cab, I got the mother of all blows. MY FREAKING WALLET WAS MISSING. Poor sis was left all alone again as I ran around the airport looking for my wallet. I discovered that the airport does not have a Lost and Found Counter or a Complaint Cell. Since everyone started asking stupid questions and were irritating the hll out of my mind, we decided to leave the airport and went to my cousins place in Mahipalpur where my sister was putting up.

CONTENTS OF THE WALLET: Some cash, 3 debit cards, I card, driving licence, jnu Id card, college id card, just refilled metro card, ASC-JNU library passes, keys, home sim cards,some shopping cards etc etc…damn big convenient wallet!!!

DRAMA 4:

Enroute to Mahipalpur, my mind and my fingers in my mobile raced towards everyone I knew working in SBI. I called up my cousin who strangely didn’t pick up the call. Meanwhile, my sis called up her friend who was on leave that particular day. My next call was to George in Mumbai. He sent me some helpline numbers since it was not possible for him to cancel the 2 SBI debit cards that I have/had/might not have again. Heaved a big sigh of relief.

the 'ART' of perspectives

We had made up our mind to attend the exhibition but not a soul knew when or even ‘where’. To cut a long story short, it was a finger poking me from behind after the bible study that triggered the already loaded plan(a LIP-balm for guessing who the POKE-man is!!!:)). It would require me another posting to explain the universally accepted ‘persuading’ gift this particular finger is blessed with. Needless to say, THE FINGER has stood the test of time and has been responsible for sensitising stiffnecks and immobile faces in the campus.

Coming back to the original story, five art greenhorns(lipok(e), me,alem,toinali and zuali) then set out for the exhibition. How we squeezed into one auto was an art in itself. After our customary squabble with the autowala over the location, we took some involuntary rounds around Shahpur Jat( which in a way made up for the jogging routine we missed that evening) till we echoed in joy upon locating the gallery.

What happened during the first few minutes inside the gallery are best described by these pictures:

(scratching heads, looking lost, do we stl need a 'do not touch' sign?, a long ????????????....lol...
we need another exhibition for these pics)

It was quite a change to be surrounded by such refreshing artistic interpretations of various ordeals.In the midst of all our regular PJs, we came up with our own interpretations of the various arts in display. As research scholars, the dependency on books and the internet tends to foster unconscious complacency. I always thought that, at least for me, only the BIBLE had the propensity to speak different messages to me in different situations through a single verse. I realised during the exhibition that this was my undermining God’s reach. I discovered today that art is a BIBLE in itself. It enforced me to view all of God’s creations with a second look, to look for the bible hidden in them. Some of my understanding of the paintings was vastly different from what the artist had conceptualised. But for me, i would like to stick to my own understandings and interpretations. And Prittam Priyalochan, if in one in a billion chance you happened to read this, you could not have been more right when u said “.....my paintings speaks for themselves”. And if letting them speak for themselves was what you intended, u nailed it to the T. Take a bow, Prittam! Thank you so much!

'DUH' REAL STORIES PART 1

i don't even remember the last time i updated my blog, but here i am again...... not promising to be regular but to continue posting irrelevant nothings as and when the situation demands.

....AND did i mention that i purchased the SONY T70 digi cam early this year????? well, most of my close frens are tech-norants so i won't bother blogging the features of my wallet-pinching purchase. instead, i have been making use of my digi-cam for some serious spy work(paparazzi i am not). the lens are already worn out with the untold stories and secrets that it has been concealing till date.

so here i am with some unbelievable and unexplained moments, which i have to share for the sake of dusting off my weary digi-cam lens. there are several chapters, so i'll be posting them one at a time. Presenting to you:

DUH REAL STORIES PART 1:WHY DID TOINALI CRY?
our dear fren sanjeevini had to leave jnu after she got a job in mumbai university. so the customary farewell required zuali,toinali and mangneo to visit the famous khubchand and indira market. my camera followed them to capture some happy moments but here is what it came back with:

first scene:zuali doesnt look very happy with toinali.

second scene:zuali seems to be giving toi a piece of her mind.

third scene:toi is crying while zuali is checking her wallet.

final analysis:mangneo, the third party in the shopping expedition refused to comment so we assume from scene 3 that it might have been an issue of money. however, things were cordial between the two ladies after the incident.

what really happened, we might never know... but soemthing did happen and we do know that(oh, for the camera.............)..............:))))

p.s. :part 2 coming soon. clarifications are most welcomed but here and here only!!!!

An Open Letter to Miss Insomnia

[yes, yes..its me dozing off during a seminar......but am i to be blamed for this state i have often been reduced to???? do read on as i fight my case..]

Dear Miss Insomnia,

Please take a second to glance at the footer of this posting for a time-check and u will understand the reason behind this very public emotional outburst of my feelings for u.

In so many unexcepted ways, you have turned out to be the one constant factor in my life. My life graph depicts extreme highs and lows at every stage of my non-existential existence. There are instances where i climb the graph with moments so happy and dear that compares to none, i sincerely believe. again, moments of betrayal and failure activate me to ski down the graph like a pro. Yet, my dear, there has never been a night spent without you visiting me. In my happiness, u were there. In my sadness, u stayed the whole night by my side. 'In sadness and happiness....' they vow at the altar, but you, my dear are someone who does not need an altar to prove your faithfulness to me.

I genuinely want to walk an honest path with you and this is exactly why i want to clear my doubts. My dear, there have been instances in my life where you have deserted me when i needed you the most. Why oh why do u leave my side during the sermons on Sundays? Why did u forsake me in the midst of some of the most important lectures in class? And whoever gave u the idea to play ‘hide and seek’ with me during so many sessions in the JNUCF Summer Camp?

Moments such as these trigger my belief that u have left me for good. But when darkness spreads itself over the bright blue sky, u always find your way back to my life............even in a night such as this, when i have a hundred errands to run tomorrow, u are with me...refusing to leave me......what is a man to do then.....the least i can do is type down my thoughts....to someone so faithful, so caring.

I know that u love me so very much, dear miss insomnia....i hope one day i can tell u the same but until then....

GIMME A BREAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Vulnerably yours,

Ronald Thangeo

P.S. I PUBLISHED THIS POST AT FRIDAY, 4:37 a.m..........AND NOT AT THE TIME AND DATE AS SPECIFIED BY GOOGLE'S SETTINGS...........

Sharing the Blessing

Acts 11:26

"............the disciples were called Christians..."


i have continually
gone through this bible verse
since my childhood but it was only
recently in the JNUCF Summer Bible
Camp that it provoked me........in the midst
of struggling to keep awake during a session....
to change my perspective of who a CHRISTIAN is.....
F...........O............R...................E..................V.............E..........R

P.S.:the pic is a view of the sunset from campsite, Dehradun...
thks to Lienza for capturing such a breathtaking image.

Sentimental Trash

It’s an old boring topic by now that I had viral fever since last Sunday. Seniors, friends and elders often attempted to uplift my spirit by telling me that this was a time for me to reflect, to understand myself better(?) and a chance to come out stronger(??) and understand more the virtue of good health(???).

The JNU philosophers, as usual, came up with their theories regarding the cause behind my pathetic condition. Some of them cited stress and fatigue as the main reasons but the accepted general opinion behind my sickness seems to be my singing the tenor in last week’s kuki worship service. The argument further strengthened with the doctor diagnosing a throat infection. Whatever was the cause, it was one whole week of sleeping with blankets in the Delhi heat when the rest of the population was getting naked. It also gave me the privileged opportunity to SMELL the emergency unit of AIIMS, not once but twice.

And with almost every senior enlightening me on the reflections, fighting spirit and discovering myself theories, I was kind of waiting for my moment of enlightenment. However, the moments when I forced myself to relate my condition to something more profound and meaningful were the only moments I sniggered (with a blocked nose and sore throat, even this didn’t come easy). All I could think about was all the food items I was restricted with. But I did discover something in the midst of all this. Even with a temperature of 102, two blankets and an infected throat, my mouth was as efficient as ever. I could still talk and give it back to people who deserved!!!! And again, it was not a realization but rather a reminder that God has blessed me with so many good friends (who sometimes did not even let me rest). I bugged them and disturbed them and owe my recovery to all of them.

Looking back, I guess it was a sickness I could have really done without. I wish I could say I learned this and that and blah blah blahs……. but sorry,it was a wasted one week and anyone trying to draw some lessons for me from the experience may as well know that I hated the classroom and therefore couldn’t concentrate on the lessons!!!!

So Near Yet So Far

(with malice towards no particular person…….this little scribble below is just an expression of how much the rumours of single seaters have gone to my head)

In the first place, I was in perfect harmony at room 20, kaveri. I have a good room, roommate and even a backyard with aloe vera, king chillis and mangoes sprouting from uneven locations. But my unrest began when our dear hostel caretaker told me “Beta, you are getting your single seater very fast”. He had given me this big hope. All I went for was to pay my monthly mess bills. I really don’t know how fast is fast but it has already been two months. At that moment, he sounded like I was getting it in a week or so.

But the poor caretaker is not to be blamed. The real reason seems to be the (when will they finally leave) seniors who have made a habit of extending their stay. Thank goodness for small mercies like the absence of a 9C provision. A very reliable source informed me some days ago about 14^th August being the D-date for all outgoing students for their permanent vacation from JNU. The very reliable source again informed me later that there has been some one month extensions granted yet again. Really, this fast is going really really slow. My patience has run dry. My mind reaches its most innocently disastrous nature and here are two ideas I was contemplating upon; first, my raja mirchas have been yielding abundantly. And at one point I wanted to burn them and smoke out some people for my convenience; second, I was planning to call up someone with a NOKIA BL-5C battery and talk non-stop till the phone explodes.

Until then, let me enjoy my stay here in my room where I am really happy. This picture taken on 18^th aug should
validate this statement…….