The First Move

It was 7 months and 5 days ago. They had been done with their last conversation. Shilpa sat by her kitchen table and gazed into the night sky. The breeze sent chills down her spine and the truth that now stared in her face.

It seemed like only yesterday that Anjali and she were shopping at the new Pluto Mall in the city. They'd shopped for a whooping 18,000 bucks in all, celebrating their first paychecks. Exhausted, they dragged themselves to the food court and helped themselves to a sumptuous lunch. Just out of impulse, the giggling duo dumped thier bags in the car, pulled up inox and went to "Dhoom". How they came out with the oohs and aahs about John Abraham! That was almost 2 years ago. A tear dropped onto Shilpa's hand now.

She got up from the table and went to drain the coffee- it had grown too cold, with the window open. As she turned on the tap, the smilie on the wall reminded of her of a sunndy sunday afternoon, not more than a year and a half ago.

Anjali had knocked on Shilpa's door on a sunday afternoon and when there was no response, she'd begun to bang and the neighbour came and yelled at her to be quiet. After a minute Shilpa had come hair all ruffled and kajal spread under her eyes, "Oh, its you! I thought it was Lata aunty.." Anjali could not believe Shilpa was sleeping in the afternoon.. "Moron, what the hell are u doing in your bedroom?! Dont tell me you have some guy in there!" "Oh shut up yaar! I'll get you a lime or something" By the time shipa had got the lime ready, Anjali was in her bedroom, spread newspapers on the floor, arranged for water and colours from Shilpa's drawers and turned the AC on.. all set! Shilpa was horror stricken and asked as quietly as she could, "Just what in the world do you think you are doin?" "Come on, monkey.. that's your bit.. just over there.. We are making smilies for Anu, Parth and other children in your layout.." (She was referring to the street children in that locality) 1 hour from then, the floor of the room was filled with little perfect smilies smiling at them in bright yellow. The next day, after giving all of them a smilie each to pin on their clothes, the girls decided to keep one each for themselves.. The one smiling at Shilpa from above the kitchen sink was the one from that sunday afternoon.

The memory hit Shilpa like a cold knife through her chest. She wiped away that drop of tear that was about to drop form the tip of her nose. She shut the window and switched off the lights in the kitchen. She walked to her room and sat on the edge of her bed, facing the open window. As a light breeze blew, she could hear a tinkling as the wind chime Anjali had given her for her last birthday danced to the breeze.

When they had shopped one evening for a friend's birthday present, Shilpa had found the chime in a store and said she liked it a lot and will buy it the next they visit the store. Many visits later also, the chime lay forgotten. Then on her birthday, Anjali gave Shilpa a gift wrapped in yellow-gold paper. And as Shilpa unwrapped it, she found to her amazement and wonder the same wind chime that she'd liked in the store but forgot about it for months. How she was moved! She gave Anjali a tight hug and unspoken words were understood in that minute.Just as she came out of the reverie, the chime clinked again.

Exactly 7 months and 5 days ago, that ugly scene came up in the canteen. A little misunderstanding grew into a feud. Shilpa and Anjali, known across campus as the bestest of friends got up from their seats, and glared at each other. In not mroe than 10 minutes from then, the whole canteen stood and watched as the friends grew miles apart- right before their eyes. They stopped short of laying hands on each other's collars. And since then, they had not spoken a word to each other. Each waited for the other to make the first move. And the move was never made...

And there, on her table, by candlelight, now sat a lone bit of paper, fluttering under the weight of a cell phone. The bit of paper that tore away a part of Shilpa's life, the bit that took away what Shilpa held closest to her heart. The cell phone beeped to life with a new message and the backgorund shone bright- two laughing girls sitting on a seashore.. Anjali and Shilpa. The message was from Riya. Shilpa opened the message and read what she already knew from the telegram: "Hi, I thought you should know.. Anjali is no more" Shilpa slid to the floor, weak and trembling. She clutched the cell close to her heart and tonight she didnt hold back, she didnt fight anymore. She hugged her knees and cried. And this time, she knew that the most comforting shoulders in the world are gone. Gone without saying goodbye.

A gust of wind blows out the candle just as it blows the telegram outside the window...

I'll tell you 'wassup'..!!

Hey.. Wassup?!
That, by far, is the most irritating question in the world as a general rule and more so when one specifically wants to be left alone!! OK, I can understand if long lost frens catch up sometime, that seems the most obvious question... Or, if one bumps into an acquaintence around the corner.
What exactly do people mean by "wassup?" when it's probably been 1 hour and 22 minutes since one last met them? NO, seriously.. wat do they mean?! What can possibly be up? Assuming 'nothing is up', one might venture safely to say "hey, nuthing much, buddy.. just lazing around, you know.." and BAM! The next most inevitable and jarringly stupid question is flung at you "So.. what else is up with you?" EH? One is pushed to think that the other did not quite follow one's response.. so one proceeds to explain "Nothing yaar.. all fine..(out of courtesy one may also, dangerously though, add-) wassup with u these days?" And yes, by now one should have expected such a response as this- "Fine here.. so wat are u doin?" [:P]
With due respect to all those who are interested in my welfare by asking me that question over and over again just to make sure all's well with me and hoping to hear that I'm engaged in some meaningful activity, when I say "nothing ya.. all's fine", please just let me be..! I dont know if there are other souls who relate to what I am trying to say. However, thanks for dropping by![:)]
The second most interesting conversation that I have come across- You meet some familiar face on your way around 11 in the morning. Both smile and say hi. after that one might look to continue one's walk. But the other thinks there is a time lag and simply for want of conversation asks the former "Did you have breakfast?" one smiles and replies, "Yes, thank you" One would think there ends courtesy and is about to leave when the conversation continues, "so, what did you have for breakfast?" (One would think- excuse me! am i really having this conversation?!) "Ummm bread toast". "Oh nice.. with cheese?" Does this really matter to either of the conversationalists??! One is rather forced to wish that one had said one had skipped breakfast altogether![:P]
Third most interesting conversation- "Hi.. wassup? (that winner question is kinda pervasive and is almost a sure shot in any 'interesting' conversation) did you finish the portions for tomorrow?" "No ya.. plenty left" "Oh, how much have you finished?" (One would think the other is interested in one's welfare and hence answers this question politely) "3 chapters, got 4 more to go". The other is now now adding this piece of information to his/her statistics.. "Oh ok.. dont worry ya.. Alpha has done only one chapter so far. By the way, beta's done with 5, Omega almost all of it.. gama and ohm with 6 chapters, delta and I just finished the portions for tomorrow.. (one is screaming withing oneself by now- "One the hell, then, did you call me, you.... you moron!") It's all easy ya.. dont worry.. you'll be able to finish it allright" (yeah, rite!)
Well, that, I think is a shade better than when somebody u know has been studyin all day and walks to your door at 12 in the night, (and that is when u have just started finding out what lessons are there for tomorrow's test!) makes a funny i-am-goin-to-fail face, that is such a see through, you know that the other is so sure of topping the class in the paper! The latter continues to stand in the same posture leaning against your door frame, after having finished revising the goddam portions, whining and grumbling about not being able to remember a thing. The latter's eyes looks at the page you are working on in your book.. which reminds him/her of something and drwas him/her insdies.. the page gets the altter excited and the whole graph is explained animatedly in the next 7 mintes and then in a poor-kitty-like tone... "OMG... am not sure if that's teh correct answer.. is it?!" One suddenly realsies how one's time is being eaten away. How nice it would be if this uncalled visitor can just go away!! And finally when the visitor just walks away, you've succssfully lost the little interest to study that you had tried to gather! That's when you realise that some people can really be a pain in the wrong place!!
For now though.. I'm signing out.. and it you want to be engaged in a meaningful activity, tell me wassup?![:)]

Inspection...!!

This is a true incident that happened to me when I was in 12th... this dates back to 2003... and I remember it even today!

It was morning assembly. Our Principal announced that there would be the CBSE Inspection the next day. I didn’t give much thought to it. The rest of the day was normal. Later at home, I finished my homework, studied for the oral test in Business Studies, pressed my uniform, polished my shoes and whiled away the rest of the evening.
Next morning at school, our Principal again reminded us of the Inspection. That was it! I clearly remembered that I had forgotten something; but couldn’t remember what it was. A shiver ran down my spine at the mention of ‘Inspection’. Was I in perfect uniform? Were all my notebooks complete? Yes, everything looked fine.
During the second Business Studies period, I saw our Principal, Vice Principal and the Inspector pass by our classroom. I noticed that the Inspector had a particularly serious face. Our Vice Principal called me to the Class door and told me that the Inspector would like to meet me in half-an-hour. I looked at my watch. I wasn’t listening to my teacher. I was straining to hear the dying footsteps of the Inspector. I came back to the present suddenly, when my teacher called me for the second time, “Cauvery! Tell me any five contents of the ‘Articles of Association’!” I stared at her for a few seconds thinking all the time “The five ‘What of What’?” Somebody murmured the question again. I thought hard and told her two of the eight contents she had taught us. She was satisfied with my answer, though she was still frowning at me.
“Half-an-hour”, I told myself, “Half-an-hour”. I was doomed; I knew it before it could happen- I was doomed, accursed, bedeviled… that’s the boundary line of my vocabulary. The fan was switched on, but I was sweating-profusely! I looked at my watch again. It was already ten minutes since I talked to our Vice Principal. “Slow down!”, I whispered to my watch. I felt like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole and the acceleration of gravity acting on me was not 9.8 ms-2 but was somewhere near 35ms-2. Before I could come out of the trance, a girl from ninth standard came to my class and called me. I half jumped into the air. I walked out of the class. I looked nervously down at my watch again.
I was ten minutes early for the scheduled meeting. I walked jerkily, wobbled half the way to the Computer lab, where the Inspector, our Principal and Vice Principal were supposed to be. A class was waiting outside the lab. I saw our Vice Principal through the glass door of the lab. She had a very cute, chubby and encouraging smile on her face. Then I saw the serious face of the Inspector again. I guess I staggered back a few steps. I couldn’t bear to look into my Principal’s face. Our Vice Principal motioned me to wait outside for a minute. “Why?” I screamed within myself, “Why?” “Why delay my doomed hour by a few minutes?” I still couldn’t make out why I was called. I was sure I was in perfect uniform. As far as I know, all my notebooks were up-to-date. There was a sudden commotion behind me. I spun around- a ninth standard was having a library class. A few of them who knew me, smiled and waved. I waved back. I saw two teachers sitting on the other side, looking at me in askance. I couldn’t face them. I stared at the Computer lab door. I saw shadows move. I clasped my sweaty hands together in a last minute prayer.
The door opened, I held my breath. I adjusted my glasses. Our Vice Principal came first, the Inspector second, followed by our Principal. I hoped I didn’t look too much of a stupid git. The Inspector had almost gone past me when our Vice Principal spoke, “Sir, Cauvery is here” I was almost about to say, “I’m sorry sir, all my books are up-to-date. I’ll do better in the next exam. I’ll never misbehave again.” I was so surprised to hear him speak before I could. I was more surprised at what he said, “Hello dear madam! What are you doing here?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I was almost sure there was a mistake until the Inspector gave me a vigourous handshake. “How is everyone at home?”, he asked me. “Home?” I reflected. Oh! Yes, this was a friend of my mother’s. I’ve seen him just once before. I realized all this too fast and out of my mouth came a tiny, “Fine, thank you, sir!” All this time, my heart was thumping against my rib cage. “Tell your mom that we met”, he continued. “Yes, sir” “All the best to you!” “Thank you, sir” And he was off. I’m sure the entire school could’ve heard me sighing. “Phew!”, I exclaimed and returned to the class.

Thank goodness for little mercies

I know or I think I know now, that when I get up tomorrow morning, I will see the sun rise, I know I will sip hot coffee, I know I will wear warm clothes, I know my frens will greet me. I know I will walk to college, I know I will sit by a window in class, I know I will take notes(or pretend to!), I know I will smell samosas from the canteen, I know I will hear the birds sing in chorus, I know I will hog lunch, I know I will read a book, I know I will talk to my parents, I know I will paint, I know a few other things.. but I dont think of them often. Today, I do.
When my leg aches, I thank goodness for having bestowed me with legs that ache, than not give me legs at all. Thank her(I believe goodness is a feminine form:) ) for giving me eyes that burn from lack of sleep than not give me the pleasure of sight at all... thank her for giving me a tongue that gets burnt because of hot coffee than not being able to taste at all... thank her for giving me hands that grow tired than not be able to write and paint at all... thank her for giving me ears that go pop in a flight than not be able to hear the birds... thank her for giving me parents who scold me for my mischiefs than not bless me with them at all... thank her for the fun loving buoyant sister than not having given me an older brother... thank her for the frens I have than the many foes I've made... thank her for every fulfilling day than those that seem empty... thank her for today and not expect a miracle tomorrow. Thank goodness for the way life has treated me and shaped itself... including the downfalls and rainy days... for unless I've been through rainy days, I wouldnt appreciate sunny days as much as I do them now. If I didnt fall, I wouldnt know what it takes to get up... So, thats why... thank goodness, I fell! Because I believe: "Opportunity often comes disguised in the form of misfortune, or temporary defeat... or a Fall..!!" :)

The night i didn't want to sleep

I’m sitting by the window. Its dark outside… cold and pouring. Reminds me of a similar day, years ago… in a different place, a different window. It was a humid evening. I was on the second floor. Through the window I saw a bunch of street kids playing in the mud, dust rising around them like a tiny whirlwind… I was stuck at home, cursing myself and everything around me. I had just been through an accident and got both my legs bound in thick rolls of plaster. That’s why I was… where I was. The kids seemed as happy as happy can get, not a worry in the world. No hunger, no thirst, no work, no commitment… nothing to bind them… confine them within the walls of a room… nothing to confine the bubbling spirits within them. It steadily grew darker and I could see their shadows by the street lamp. They seemed to be playing some sort of “running and catching”. The phrase stuck to my head and strongly reminded me of the uncomfortable position my legs were in at the moment. I grew grumpy. I recognised my maid, Geetha’s daughter, Sharada among them.
Sharada was a tiny (for her age… she was 8 and looked like 5), chirpy bubbly little soul, who had to drop out of school because her father spent all their money on getting drunk… and when he wasn’t getting drunk, he seemed deranged. That poor girl has borne the brunt of her father’s fury and his belt- both- many a times. Today, however, like every other day I’ve seen her, she is happy and cheerful. Such unconditional happiness with no bounds, caressed my heart and tiny invisible dwarves tugged at the corners of my lips, drawing them into a smile. It kind of ached to stretch my lips. It felt strange. When was the last time I did something like that? I don’t remember… I have been too busy being grumpy I almost forgot how to smile.
In the week that followed, I had my plasters removed. I could now walk around in my flat. Life was slowly getting better. I would be soon on my legs again…
Geetha came on Saturday morning, nothing unusual about that. What was unusual however was the fact that she was very quiet and forlorn. She didn’t need any prodding. She came to me by the window and said, “Baba, can I talk to you for a bit?” Without waiting for a response from me, she began, “Baba, there is nothing about my family you don’t know… My little Sharada was ill last week…” At this point I interrupted, “Is that why she wasn’t playing on the street for the last few days?” She was surprised. “Baba, I didn’t know u knew my little Sharada… yes, that’s why she hasn’t been around for the last few days. When she fell ill…” TRING TRING!! That was my cell phone. It was Priya, the girl I was supposed to pick up for a coffee. I switched off the cell on impulse. “Baba, I think you are busy. I wont take your time now…”, Geetha offered. I told her I was taking it off that Saturday and wasn’t doing anything till the afternoon. She continued with a determined look, “I took my little Sharada to the doctor in the big hospital. He said she wont survive… more than a year” the last word was barely more than a whisper.
That night I visited Sharada… she lived in a little tent they call their home. Sharada couldn’t wait for me to ask her to show me her dolls. She took me to a corner and showed me a stack of neatly kept little dolls of different sizes. She burst into a giggle and listed out all her dolls in order or priority, “This is Gudiya Rani, Chinny, Meenu, Babli and Rinny”. “Baba, that’s her most prized possessions and she, mine”, her mother says. I can feel her voice cracking. I had never seen a child so full of life… Her smile was contagious. I smiled at her little brown face and it didn’t feel so cumbersome to smile after all. Geetha went to get me a glass of buttermilk. Sharada sat by my side and whispered, “Bhaiya, you know something? I’m going to meet God soon… and I’m going to ask for a wish”. I was stunned and couldn’t find speech till she continued, “I’m going to ask God to give mamma a baby son so dada will stop beating her. I know it’s because of me they fight.” I stroked her cheek and in a choked voice, said, “No no, child… what ever gave you such an idea? Your mother is so proud of you. I’d love to have a daughter like you.” Geetha got me the buttermilk. I could tell she had been crying. I asked her where her husband was. She said he had gone to his brother’s place to dig up some old fights. Sharada was looking at me intently all this while. Suddenly she asked, “Bhaiya, will you play with me and gudiya rani?” Geetha scolded her saying, “No, Sharada, you mustn’t pester Bhaiya like that. He has lots of work to do.” After a pause of 2 seconds during which Sharada’s eyes pierced mine with indescribable pleading, I could say nothing but “Ofcourse!” You should have been there with me to have seen her little brilliant eyes sparkle in joy and she pranced around like little puppy getting her dolls out of the stack. You should have simply been here to look at her mother’s joy in seeing her daughter so happy. Then was when I understood that there actually are tears of joy. Because as I touched my cheek, I was surprised to find them wet… I was sure I wasn’t feeling sad, and yet there I sat crying into the night. I forgot my office then, my house and its comfortable bed that gave me no sound sleep, Priya and other office deadlines. We played till 3 that day… That night, I felt truly free, truly happy.
Little Sharada touched my life in a way nobody had. She taught me a lesson(sans words) that night that I will carry to my grave. Life is not all about money and achievement. It's more about loving and giving... and more importantly, living the moment...

Remembering you

When I look back and think of you,

I remember-
The innocence of two children sharing an ice-cream,
The cuteness of two buddies dancing in the rain,
The togetherness of two blossoming personalities,
The maturity of two grown ups sharing their sorrows.

I remember-
Watching the setting sun late one evening with you,
Seeing you cry when I was hurt,
Cycling down the lanes madly ringing the bells,
Wishing by the ‘wishing well’, that we’d never part ways.

I remember-
The train crawling into the station and halt,
All your bags packed, your house vacated,
Our hearts as heavy as your bags,
Wishing time would freeze.

I remember-
The long calls that kept me going,
The letters that kept on pouring-
Gave me a reason to smile,
A reason to survive…

I remember-
That cold winter morning…
I got a mail saying you’d died-
That was when I almost died myself!
That winter of 1998 was really bitter.

I remember-
Your daughter stayed with me for a while,
She seemed to have lost her world,
All she kept saying was ‘Mamma’… and
Al I could do was give her a warm hug.

Today, as I sit by the window,
Watching the setting sun,
I miss you... like I’ve always missed you.
The best thing to do in the world is to
Simply REMEMBER YOU!

All about Winning

Here is a poem that has truly inspired me... and taught me a lesson that I will remember for life

The Race

Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face,
my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
A children’s race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn’t hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race
or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
to win, to be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire.
One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
was running in the lead and thought “My dad will be so proud.”

But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
the little boy who thought he’d win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.

As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn’t win it now.
Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.
But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win that race!”

He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all,
and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.

He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
“I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”
But through the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face
with a steady look that said again, “Get up and win that race!”

So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast!”
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.

Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
“There’s no sense running anymore! Three strikes I’m out! Why try?
I’ve lost, so what’s the use?” he thought. “I’ll live with my disgrace.”
But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.

“Get up,” an echo sounded low, “you haven’t lost at all,
for all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
Get up!” the echo urged him on, “Get up and take your place!
You were not meant for failure here! Get up and win that race!”

So, up he rose to run once more, refusing to forfeit,
and he resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been,
still he gave it all he had and ran like he could win.

Three times he’d fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.
They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place,
head high and proud and happy -- no falling, no disgrace.

But, when the fallen youngster crossed the line, in last place,
the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
you would have thought he’d won the race, to listen to the crowd.

And to his dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.”
“To me, you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.”

And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face,
the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.

And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face,
another voice within me says, “Get up and win that race!”

*************************************************************

So, I learnt.. Winning is not never falling,
But rising each time one falls...

And no, i didn't write the poem... it's credited to DH Groberg.

A grand welcome

As the car sped along the curved road towards Ettimadai, I leaned against the window, holding on to the dream I had in my eyes... I felt like a kid waiting for Santa Claus to drop by... Only, this time, it felt like the kid was visiting Santa Claus :)

After the last bend, the sign board rose to annouce the proximity of Amrita School of Business, (my home for the next two years)... I was thrilled somehow and goosebums ran down my neck... I was with my father and turned to look at him. He smiled happily at me and there was a glint in his eyes... As if he'd been waiting for this moment for a long time... I was pleased. That is an understatement, if there was ever one!

We got off at the guest house. We had a hurried breakfast befor my father's official presentation began. That I will keep for another time.

After the talk, as I walked with the crowd, a great realisation dawn on me.. This is where I'm meant to be! I have finally found the right place, the right atmosphere.. and the right people! The campus is huge, and friendly faces welcome me with warm smiles at every corner.. In two years time, I'll be placed and on my own.. I can hardly wait. I'm looking forward to the incidents life has in store for me..

In the afternoon, before lunch, we went for my counselling... Unfortunately, I got to know I'd missed out on Swamiji's talk on lifestyle at Amrita... The Dean and other faculty members spoke to my father and me about life at Amrita and some regultions that need to be followed without exceptions... What i might have rebelled againtst as a teeenager, i found very reasonable now. My father, needless to say, is very happy with the the place, the serenity it offers and the discipline it is known for :)

I got to see my first ever independent room... at the age of 20! :) and an attached Balcony.. it was wonderful.. there is greenary everywhere... i was welcomed and shown around.. it felt as if i belonged here.. Now, all that I have to do is work... 2 years of hard work and dedication.. and that should pay off... c'mon, I know I can do it!!

What do i dont have?! My room, a safe and happy hostel, serene atmosphere, friendly seniors, smiling wardens, world class faculty, the constant and unfailing support of family and friends and Amma's presence :) There is nothing to stop me from doing my best.. and being one! :)

As we drove back last evening, I could hear a low humming within me, I felt as if little invisible dwarves tugged at my lips because i could just not stop smiling, I could not stop being happy! The breeze blew into my face and Ettimadai welcomed me :)

Wish me luck and pray for me. Thanks for visiting this page.
Do come again.Until then, tc..

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

One is bound to feel lonesome without friends. To deny that would amount to lying. I have a bunch of amazing friends... At the outset, let me ask for forgiveness if I miss out on anybody's name.. but I'll try not to forget.. :)
From KV times, my closest friends are Vineesh, Kannan and Ammu, who have been there for me through thick and thin and who care for me uncoditionally.. more recently, I found a dear friend in Kamal.. :)
From BVB, I think the only friend to influence me strongly and to have leant supprot in times of need has been Madhu.. we've been through rough patches as well, but I'm glad we moved on to be great friends till date... A recent addition should be Nandagopal.. :)
At college, well, lots of people have touched my life... Some of the closest and most loved ones are Bhash- the one who is a kid at all times and gives his 100% to everything, Shobhit- the smart one of the lot and the great planner, Soumya- the philosopher and friend, Veeraj- the quiet one with intelligence in speech, when he talks, Sandeep- the talker and counsellor..
I think 2 other persons demand a special mention here... my little sister, Kichu, who has always believed in me and the things I do, has stood by me in my worst times, has shared my joy and anxiety and worry and fun... I am forever indebted to her for her support and kind ways and her counselling and a million other little things...
The other is my cousin, Charanya, who's three quarters of a doctor as of now and has been my personal counsellor in dire times and though it may sound cliche, the friend philosopher and guide thourgh most of my life.. :)
There are countless ohter people who have touched my life and I thank them for being a part of it... and I wish I can be to them what they are for me... :)
Thank you everybody! It's been a pleasure knowing you.. :)Take care and come again!

Lessons

I have learnt a lot of lessons in my life.. usually the hard way. And that's what made me. I learnt to not give up. I learnt to be honest. I learnt what it is to lose loved ones. None of the lessons are unique to me.. all you guys must have gone through them as well.

I've left Pune, the city of my dreams, behind me.. trying hard to move on. My friends in Pune are the best things to happen to me after my KV friends.. all the in between is worth forgetting! For now, i'd like to mention a few people i got to meet in Pune, who have touched my life and left a lasting impression.. Mugdha who taught me to work and was my first close friend in Pune, Riya who loved unconditionally, Ruby who's always chilled out and fun loving, Lipsa who thought of others before herself and added colour to my life in many little ways, Niveditha who stood by me in trying times and is genuine at heart.. This post is my tribute to them, thanking them all for being a part of my life..

A new Beginning

Am feeling on top of the world... :) Am joining Amrita School of Business(ASB) in 2 weeks, have done my last semester exams well... My little sister made it big and has cracked IIT...
All's well that end's well...
Am home now... singing away to glory... enjoying life... but that's how I have been all my life... :P
2 years and am all set to enter the world.. by myself... wish me luck!
Will be posting soon. Do visit again. Until then, tc...