Bliss

“I am a Literature graduate”. Every time I am asked to say something about myself, be it in an interview or elsewhere, this is usually the first thing I say about myself.  I do not say this to merely describe my qualification. They say that apart from your family and the society that you grow up in, schools play an important role in moulding your personality. I am sure they do but the way three years of Literature has shaped my personality I consider it nothing less than a part of my identity.  “Literature is not just verse and prose. It will take you on a ride of History, Sociology, Psychology and other different streams as well. Are you ready for it?” I still remember our HOD’s words on the day of my interview for the course.  “I am absolutely looking forward to it”, I said without fully understanding what he meant. But as I moved from one semester to the next I started comprehending the meaning of his words. Literature of any era is a reflection of life and society and everything wi

Well , it has been really long since I wrote and some dear friends have been very disappointed to see nothing  new on my blog for quite some time now. Frankly, when people start asking about your next post you start thinking of coming up with something really good. You wait for that right idea to strike a chord with you so that you start penning down your thoughts effortlessly.  Its not like no idea struck me in these past months. In fact I had some very enriching experiences in my first year in a B-school, some ideas absolutely worth sharing but blame it on my bad time management that I didn’t write. Today, however, I am not attempting to come up with something really good or impressive. Nothing too creative or witty or sarcastic. I am just writing to share this one idea that moved me deeply. In the first year it was mandatory for us to attend the several talks that the college kept organizing almost every other day. So one sat through (read slept through) CEO talks, expert talks, g

Here's an attempt at writing a sonnet...however it doesn't follow the conventional structure..purists stay away from my blog...haha A queer coexistence Doubts with confidence Gloom with exuberance Chatter with silence Both real, none pretense A smile so ecstatic Yet at times, so plastic A moment full of magic One with zero logic Like others yet maverick Define yourself, they say A funny question, you see You too feel this way Or is it just me?

"Bhartiya Hockey Ka Satyanash"...The newspaper carried this headline in extra large font and in red color about a year or so back when the Indian hockey team failed to qualify for the world cup. Our ever so righteous media, both print and electronic, expressed their indignation on the current state of our national sport in the highest decibels possible. The only comfort was that at least  for once they were doing full page features and hour long reports on any sport other than cricket or soccer(lucky only when the world cup is on). The over the top anchors chided the politicians(everybody's favorite punch bag and often deservedly so), the sports federations and the players for all that was wrong. Cut to now, in May the team won the Azlan Shah tournament and in July the team won a series in Belgium drubbing the hosts 6-0 in the last game. Given the consternation our media saints displayed at the team's failure one would have thought them to come up with similar exubera

I wonder if there ever was a time in history when the mantra of optimism was so bandied about as it is these days. From books to talk shows to SMSes and of course movies, everywhere the ‘think positive’ drum is being beaten with such enthusiasm that even the staunchest pessimist would have felt inclined to say “all is well” at least once. It seems as if these three words are panacea for all the problems in the world. But it is easier said than done because my heart needed a great deal of  wheedling to believe that all was well when I saw a little finger sized, creepy, olive green lizard on my bedroom window. No amount of shooing from me or my mom could shoo it off. Even my mom’s tried and tested trick of hitting the area around it with a stick failed to budge it and it remained still as if dead. Mom gave up and returned to her chores. I tried to continue studying but found myself with book in hands and eyes on the motionless creepo. What did it think it was, Snoopy or what!! Now, snoo

Cricket is to India what soccer is to half of the world. Its not that we don't love the Beautiful game but an India-Srilanka final definitely takes precedence over an Italy-Slovakia game. So while the world was getting its headache from the vuvuzelas we discovered our very own vuvuzela, with a much higher irritation quotient, in Neo Cricket's ad sense. It was not a case of ads between the match but the other way round and when they did show the match half of the screen was still filled with ads! Fine, its understood that ads come up after wickets fall. wickets fall-we cheer-players cheer-enthused commentary follows which is music or molten lava to the ears depending upon your loyalties-and then finally the ads come. But no! Not so with Neo Cricket. Say if there is a chance of a catch out. The ball is in the air-the fielder positions himself-the ball barely touches his hands-God forbid but you blink-and there is Shahid kapoor selling you a fairness cream! Its only after the play