Aleatory

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Back in Wayanad , there is this orphanage I often visit. My dad believed that it was more divine to give to the needy than to break a coconut at the temple. The first time I visited the orphanage was because I had done something terribly wrong , sacrilegious and greedy. My Mum often told me when you feel agony or pain you should turn around and look at the people who doesn’t even have half of what I cherish. My parents wanted me see what kids my age could go through. They thought it was time the 8th grader was introduced to reality and the non scalable complications to life. Even today when I drive past the monumental statue at the entrance of the orphanage, I remember sulking on the back seat of a car , tears rolling down yet not crying out. I had realized the mistake I had done, what i had put my parents through. Looking back, my parents were more than mature to have handled the situation in such calm and sanctitude.
Today I am more sensible than that 8th grader but I don’t have cloths that fit the kids here anymore.All I have is a little time, to tell these kids about what they want to hear, some of them want to play with my phone ,some others want to know if I watchedthe latest movie in town and some of them want me to play with them.I enjoy the simplicity in them, how just a bunch of 4-lined notebook for cursive writing can bring about a princely smile on their face.

About an hour and half later I steered down the road, in a hurry to meet some of my old school friends.There was an old man by the road, asking for a lift, I did not stop , his image got smaller and smaller in my rear view and then as though I was enlightened about the breaking system,i stopped the car,  reversed…”To the town?”, “Yes”, he replied, I nodded, asking him to hop in.He was old, he had no much hair on his head,it shined in the sun, like a sword which had fought a million battles. He had something about him.Like an invisible halo. I opened the door for him and made him sit in the front seat, helped him put his bags in the boot. ” Going somewhere far ?” I enquired tightening my seat belts.”Far..”
He replied. He never stopped thanking me for letting him tag along.I learned about him, how he had no one left and that he was on his way to an old age home. I was speeding all this while, I slowed down and listened to him more intensely , he asked me if it was okay to stop at the nearby temple. I nodded without any hesitation. He told me how he and his wife would go there often,while tears rolled out of his eyes. He kept telling about his time in Bristol the south west England and about his love for physics.
He said he would get off at the main road from where he would walk to the old age home because he thought it was too much to ask of me and keep me from my friends.I assured him that it was okay.As I pulled over at the old age home people , there were two men, waiting , like they knew he was gonna come.I passed the bags to guys and opened the door for him. He thanked me a million times more and hugged me like he knew for a while now. ” You have made an old man very very happy, may god bless you.”
I drove out of the woods ,accelerating through the empty roads. I did not talk, i did not bother to check my messages or put on the music system on. I drove, wondering what would have happened if i hadnt picked the man up.I felt as though I had not done anything quite serene ever before.
Earlier this month I had pinned a note in my cubicle which read ” Stop chasing , start living”, I guess I am getting there…..I know I am.
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Mumbai Calling.

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Yet another random incident , the byproduct of my decision to be impulsive. I booked a ticket to Bombay and decided to ramble the streets with the good samaritan I had met in Nitte, Mr Anuj Uchil.

I wasn’t event sure when i would get back, I had never been the risk taking guy , I was one among those who always got to the airport two hours early and here I was in en route to Bombay without even booking a return ticket.I had made up my mind I would make the most out of all that I have got. One such thing happened even before my journey had actually begun,I Met Adil , the chimp rider. The Guy was one master piece , he rode all the way from Lucknow to Bangalore on his bike solo .He kept telling me how I should be doing something similar and the adventurous funda of it .Adil was a co-passenger , from the bus right behind mine,his story made a perfect coffee time treat. I hoped to meet him while we exchanged numbers at the small dhaba a little outside of Bangalore.
The morning was cold, I stepped into the streets of Sion. Anuj was on his way to pick me up. I decided to get my first cup of coffee from the amchi mumbai street and what are the odds that I would run into a Rahul , a fellow cyclist from Mumbai who went “ oh , you are from Bangalore , the most civilised people live there. You are welcome to Mumbai”. I chuckled at his Naivety while i enjoyed the treatment I was being given. I said bye to him to hug one among  my favourite people , Anuj.
We got into the taxi of the infamous  Ramu kaka, or so i assume ; ‘ you know , the taxi  guys here don’t cheat and its gonna 140 bucks, which, you are paying.’ I nodded looking out the window . The streets of a city that I adored as a kid.
We walked out of a room we had just checked into, into the streets of the great Mumbai.We didn’t know anything, anything at all , we decided to embrace all that the city had to offer doing anything we wanted to while we still could.
V.T was the first place Anuj wanted me to go to, considering how close it is and locals should be fun for a guy who is not a Mumbaikar he joked.Struggling to the Byculla station we thought it might be a good idea to just ask where the station was , we were taken back by surprise as of how this man actually guided us to a bus station which could get us to the place in just ten minutes. He waited till we got the right bus , “ so much for not being the most civilised people “ , i thought in my head.
We got off to the streets of VT, the scent of the incense sticks and crowded walk ways, typically Mumbai ! Anuj was as euphoric as me to see the crowd at the Local station.Huge british constructions. We were awed like a toddler out of his nest.Then began our rambling sessions. first day marked 18.54km on my health app. We had to call ourselves “The Ramblers” , we just had to, roaming the streets of colaba, nariman point and countless other infamous streets, another one of which i recall is Pasta street , fancy innit ? Also we couldn’t be more grateful to the Digital mapping system.
Day two made us experience the local trains, according to anuj “ if you haven’t been in one after coming to Bombay, you haven’t experienced the Mumbaikar life. This is the backbone of this city ”. We got into a train that took us to Bandra…. after a long walk and ache in our backs we sat on a parapet outside a typically old fashion store . A couple of minutes of googling let us know that we weren’t far from Bandstand. We as expected walked another couple or more furlongs to see one of the most beautiful places in the  Bombay suburb .
The journey for the day ended in the King Edwards Memorial Hospital, Lower Parel where Anuj’s elder blood awaited us. The place was a mess, dogs , cats and humans sharing the same platform happens to be  one of the best medical colleges in India. Ashwija looked like someone had drained the life out of her, engineering was not that bad after all I thought.The night was spent at the marine drive, Anuj and I sat there discussing small, big and all that happened in our lives.
Day three started late, an omelet pav and coffee at the YMCA canteen kicked started a day that was gonna be far more experiencing than the past two.We spend the whole morning in a Coffee day discussing our secretive plans for the future till our lady friend decided to call us .Half hour later we were waiting in front of Regel, awed by the moving crowd and enormously large British buildings. Again we rolled out into the streets for her to shop, it was more of a licence to check out hot girls who bargained over a 200 bucks sandal. She then introduced me to the mouth watering Dhabeli , a distant cousin to the vada pav.
As she bid adieu to us  , Anuj and I gazed at each other, exchanging the inner thoughts. Alright , we are going to Ville-Parle he declared. I nodded , in another half of an hour we were on a skywalk that never ended. We plotted a place in the remote Andheri to which we walked talking about all that we possibly could.The rest of the night saw a the couple of drunk ramblers, oh you guess , it was more than just fun.
The next day morning Anuj help me board a bus to Pune , he acted like my big brother , making me wait by the side while he enquired about the busses and made sure i got the right bus !
A journey that was totally random , that was the best outcome to my possibly weird   impulsiveness was coming to an end. While my heart throbbed to stay back i wanted to get back to the weird codes of salesforce. Sometime soon i whispered. Sometime soon….
P.S: Happy Bday Anuj. You sharp-witted bastardy !
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Serendipity

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Cycling down the road , I saw a silhouette, a fellow rider speeding through. We cyclists feel like a family , it is always a pleasure  hallooing out at them. And it is ecstatic when its somewhere close to home.

I geared up to get some speed , wondering if this guy would turn out to be a late night riding pal . Getting alongside between her dorky spectacles I found a face , smiling at me.

I have not lost my balance for even once before that and then there I was, lying on the pavement , mortified till the last piece of flesh on my body. I heard her mumble, “ damn the roads “ as she succoured and removed the cycle off me. “are you alright ?” I sheepishly nodded my head,embarrassed . She grabbed her cycle and walked with me… “ so do you fall a lot? “ she taunted with a  giggle. “only when i see pretty girls on a cycle “ .  *Guffaws*

We walked a little bit longer ,in tranquility .“ Do you wanna have a coffee , Mr Junior Software Engineer ?” *Pointing at the coffee shop by the side*. “ How did you know that ? “ I thunder bolted  and then she handed me my iCard .I felt like the girl . She was taking charge of our first collision of a date.

I had somehow gotten over the fall, for maybe her candidness was making me fall for her. I liked her, cause she didn’t mind having the ort of a cake that I had or sharing the coffee I was having , every time she adjusted her glasses, she talked to me like she had learned everything about me despite my quietude. I thought in my head…” damn I have always had a thing for southpaws, maybe this is just that part of my brain playing games with me deceiving me into the arms of solitude that has to follow, I am a big boy, I can handle being alone , I do not have to find a potential girlfriend in everyone “.

As we rambled back home , pushing the cycle alongside ,we aligned beside each other , I digressed in my  mind “this is one perk of having a left handed girlfriend…”. She would giggle in my stillness, like she was inside my head , conscious of all thats happening there.

I stood outside the huge gate, gazing at her disappear, she peeped out again to whisper , “ just a minute”. As I watched the street lights flicker, of a city that had fallen asleep. In the quietness of an empty street she came back to bless me with a buss.

A week later here I am , enjoying the warmth of her naked back on my arms, the smell of her hair. She canoodles like a two year old running away from light , nudging into my arms, finding comfort.

As I laid there, I felt a sense of content. I had not deceived someone into getting what I wanted.We were there just cause we both wanted to , we loved each other, snogging or riding the streets at odd hours.

I recall what Anuj said between the campus drives and the frenetic nights before the fest, giving me the nudge “ it’l all make sense , at this point it all seems so absurd , but in the end it’ll line up, just the right way and it will all make perfect sense”.

P.S : Fiction inspired by ‘J’.

Sometimes you just have to do the Write thing.

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An avalanche of my thoughts, through her 🙂

Deepika Vasani

Midnight conversations are the most meaningful and the most real conversations one can have, for it is then, that we pour our hearts out, let others view the pattern of our thoughts and also get a screenshot of the real us. She had found her escape and she liked it there. She didn’t know why. She didn’t even care. No judging. No fear. No hesitation. It was a fortunate accident.

       “Circumstances change us. Whether you like it or no, reality takes control of you, and you know what? That sucks. Change sucks.” She complained.
       “Change is not always bad. It broadens your mindset.” He consoled.

“But sometimes you make a choice in that moment
 and you know in your heart it is going to change everything.”
Scary. Scary how one choice you make is going to attack you like a snowball of consequences running…

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Amiably Broken

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Rant 

I am  at that juncture right now, when you realise that your tenets about someone you thought you knew like the back of your hand was a complete dubiety,the tranquility turns into a turmoil.Calmness into chaos and life as we know it,cease to exist.

Canto ONE
Amidst one of these senile evenings, my phone surprised me with a message, it said “Sreedeep,is it okay if I come over for a few days.I am quitting this place, this is not what i intend to do with my life.”, it was my so called black box from college , the roommate.
I did not ask him much, neither did i think of anything either.”Scoot out,the door is always open for you!”. This chap could have stuck around that place , trying to prove to the world that he is all that he has no intention to be, pushing him to the extend that could break him.But he just made it clear for me “Its not the whole world that i need to prove, it is yourself.
Canto TWO
Arduously, i decided to meet an old friend.A lot of things had made things between us very awkward, we hardly spoke. But then we decided to let it all go and catch up for good.
Sitting on the darker corner of the bricked building, we broke the silence with a long island. Quite surprisingly it was not even close to awkward.
Opening up to each other we realised ,we both were on the same boat albeit on different corners.
Swaying to the music, we had forgotten we had so much to worry about.Life seemed stoic,knowing you are not the only one in a catch 22.
Canto THREE
Another Sunday morning enjoying a delightful breakfast at Brunton Astor, I received a text from Sangeetha Aunty , “ thought of you when i saw this” and an image which said ” A good life is when you smile often , dream big laugh a lot and realise how blessed you are for what you have”.That made my day,since then I haven’t ranted about all the forlorn things in my life. 
 
Cessation
People like this make me realise there is a lot more to life than i am impeding it to. 
I might be broken,but I am amiably broken. 

A little better.

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A lot of things have changed in the past two months, I am an engineer now.
I live a life a lot in contrary to what it was just a couple of months ago.

To begin with I am so acclimated editing in the command line that this blog is being written in a Linux terminal.Unlike the times before , you don’t get to have your friends with you all the time,cracking jokes sitting in the last bench and barring the precious weekends, I cook , I eat alone, I cycle alone, I shop alone;Denouement : Ultimate independence.

The small things matter so much now, when you have your best friend relocating half way round the world ,just a couple of hours having coffee with her,talking bout all the crazy things we have done, could make the eve a much better occasion.

The joy of discovering that the place I and Divya used to hangout
in Nitte being there in Ecity too,the money plant growing a leaf,that extra mile on the cycle,the new route that you discover to work,meeting a friend who can laugh at your stupid sense of humor while putting on her kohl and another one who cleaves you bigger piece of chicken despite his intoxication.

Above all i had a biggest of joy last weekend.
Having spend an epic night with a bunch of friends who had come down in between their hectic training schedule ,I woke up to the vibration of my phone.
Mum, “Dad has left for Bangalore a couple of hours back.” Briskly, putting on some cloths , i dialed up my Dad.
He sounded worried , in very feeble voice he told me  “Sreedu, I am stuck . will be late, you carry on, have fun with your friends.
My bus is at 5:30 to Pune I can go on my own.”
I paused ,I could not believe, for once that my Dad was actually telling me to simmer down with my pals and not meet  him.”You call me when you are nearby , I will get there”, I hung up.
A couple of hours eating the finest of doughnuts the city had to offer, my phone wobbled again,” Son,I am here “

I rallied through the city on my bike overtaking vexed auto men , irked bus drivers and blokes on their bikes.
I reached the bus terminal to see my Dad standing there with his backpack.Though he would not concur with me, he sure was relieved to see me there.

A couple of hours and a half later, the guy gave us the bill,
I slowly patted my dads hand and signaled him that I had this one.

I learn every moment how such small things can make your laugh a little louder, your smile a little brighter, and your life a little better.

Values.

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So recently I moved into my flat in Bangalore, empty house and a couple of huge bags. I swabbed the flat, unpacked and spread the mat in the living room. I sprawled on the mat for a while, my back hurt a little after all the swabbing. I was a little hungry. The box of cupcakes that a dear friend gave as a going away gift couldn’t have been more adept. I sipped down the water that I had got from my college cooler, seemed like that was the last link I had to my fun filled college days. *SIGH*. I decided  to go get things for my house. Started with a mattress, then a couple of door mats and so on. I was staggered realizing that I was looking for things in specific, the buckets handle, the door mats bottom, the bulbs voltage capacity, the mirrors finish et cetera. I came back home and put the stuff at its place, checked the bills and sprawled on the mat with my head resting on the newly bought pillow while the plastic on it made the crackling sound. It was pleasant feeling. I realized I had just figured out something important.

The cross checking that my granddad did, the specificity that my dad had and the walks that my mom made was not because they couldn’t afford not to, It was the value to things that they held so dear to them, it just let them sleep better at night because they had the satisfaction of having exactly what they had wanted, no matter how small, no matter how little. It gives you that sense of fulfillment.

Isn’t that, something all of us long for?  I had figured out that it is not the big things that give us all the happiness in life; it is the small things that count the most.

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