This Part Of My Life Is...

About giving it all without the fear of losing.

After downing 300ml of Absolut Vodka in a Friday night drinking binge, sleeping for 2 hours, watching a totally atrocious but insanely funny Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay at 6 in the morning in the widest computer screen that I have ever seen, having Idli Vada and filter coffee to get rid of the hangover; I came back home riding my bike in an cold, overcast Bangalore morning. A cup of tea, half an hour of sleep like trance, the house owner's appearance after a hiatus of 4 months and a signature on a Rs 21,000 cheque; I was up and running in no time. Well, not exactly running. More like typing sentences for 'para 5' of my Goals Essay version 1.2. Had to get the crisper, clearer, better sounding version 2.0 ready by the end of the day.

I must have worked for a good 6-7 hours on my application stuff today. A running nose and the gloomy weather didn't offer many better options though. And I had made good progress on the recommendation front on Friday, so decided to keep the tempo going.
I have the basic structure to the all important 'Why MBA' essay more or less ready. More than the basic actually! I would say 60-70% is done. Sentences would have to be edited and transformed. Word repetitions removed and all that 'good writing' skills brought to the table. But I'm not too disappointed with what I have. And I've also sort of done the customization (why this school) part for Kellogg. And yes, I have a killer last line for the Kellogg version of this essay! At least I think so, anyway. I hope the middle - the lead up from my current work to my short term goal and MBA gets more seamless in the days to come. That's one part which still bugs me.

So this makes it the 3rd essay, after the professional and non-professional leadership/significant achievement one that I have sort of taken care of. The background/values/what will you bring to the class essay is still in the random scribbles state but I have a nice 'impact' beginning to it in mind. And it will be a totally unique one. No doubt about that.

By late evening, I had grown tired of thinking about the essays. So I thought I would get down to creating the logins for Tuck, Kellogg and Ross and set the ball rolling for the application process. That took a good 2 hours or so but there was a sense of urgency in doing it which I liked. I hate filling up these data forms by the way. Especially the GPA part.

Exactly 2 months to go before the first of my deadlines. I'm not feeling too bad about this. There's a hell lot to be done actually and I'm planning to take a week off around the end of this month. And for all those who have been issued a warning of getting bombarded with my essay drafts for review, just hold on for a little longer. You'll soon get your chance to comment on, critique and bash my essays.

So far, so good. Hope it gets even better.

Number One Hundred

The ones which remained as 'drafts' ....

26 Jan '08
[a conversation with my friendly neighborhood uncle. felt like dad talking to me. i was touched]

Hello Uncle

Atish, I heard the sound of Guitar and was wondering how come you're home so early.

Didn't go to office today. Wasn't feeling well. So akele hoon to socha guitar baja loon thoda...

Oh! I was wondering ye ladke log itni jaldi kaise aa gae... So I decided to call you up. Such a nice way to connect.... music. Come over for a cup of tea. I just had mine but wouldn't mind having another cup. Come.

Ok uncle, I'll be there in 5 minutes.
.............................................................
Do cup chai aur kuch toast vagaira le aana....

Nahi uncle, bas chai... kaafi late lunch kara tha

Ok. So, how have you been. I'm sorry yaar I couldn't talk to you guys properly that day. I was so busy with all the guests.......

Arre it was absolutely fine uncle. The Biryani was so awesome, we didnt have anything else on our minds! The weather was fabulous, the music was just right and you couldnt have chosen a better place for the reception. So your son left.......

......achcha ye sab choro, you tell me how have you been. What happened to your plans for MBA?

Applying this year....

You know Atish, it's very easy to lose sight. I mean you remind me of my days back in the 70s when I had just joined Phillips and stayed with friends just like you do. Of course Bombay in those days was not like what it is today and with a princely salary of Rs 700 we couldn't lead the kind of life you guys are living. What I mean, Atish, is that, it's the 'good life' that you guys are leading. Weekends spent with friends, eating out. Then you have your music. You have a great degree... you can let things drift and then by the time you wake up, it might be a little too late..

27 Nov '07
[the few minutes in the mild Bangalore winter morning, sipping tea...meant a lot those days]

I stand on the balcony, the sun on my face. The music comes floating from the hall. It's a bright morning in Bangalore and there's a slight chill in the air. I have a cup of tea in my hand. It's the start of another day. At times I'm joined by my flatmate. If it's his playlist then it's on shuffle and anything from Kishore to Atif to Hootie & The Blowfish is equally likely to come up next. If it's mine, then it's following some pattern. Third Eye Blind one day, Scorpions the other, Scrubs soundtrack or Simon & Garfunkel. I like the way my day starts. Earlier I used to make tea for both of us. Now our cook does that. I think he's slightly better than me!

I had my first cup of tea when I was four. On the train while going to Puri. Kullhad vali chai. I never had milk in the morning after that. Cha, it was. In the evening when dad came back from work, I used to have my second cup. And did I tell u. I finished entire packets of biscuits in one go! Mom and dad talked about office and other 'grown up' stuff. I chipped in with anything remotely interesting at school. I always associated this evening tea with a very relaxed atmosphere.

In college, milk replaced the morning tea (whenever I had breakfast, that is) on most days. The 5 o' clock extra messing tea was more frequent though. The best, by a long distance was the one we drank at Sassi. Especially during the winters. Especially after bread omelet. I can't remember any occasion when somebody would refuse to go to Sassi for a cup of tea. It was almost a part of the curriculum.
Then there was the 'Dip Tea' near the Library, to be taken in between classes or during Music events at the Convo. On the rare occasion when I found myself in the institute at night doing something relate to academics, yet again this was the place to have tea and take a break.

21 Jul '07
[when i felt like writing about independence. especially financial]

Its been just over a year since I entered a new phase in my life. One typically characterized by more independence at all levels, particularly financial. And going with my ideology of 'kal ka kal dekhenge' I have made sure that my bank balance is never able to shoot up beyond a certain level. I also managed to convince my dad that all serious investments and future planning would only start a year or so later. So all of it basically meant I went ahead and bought whatever I felt like and I could. A bike, a laptop, a guitar. I'm absolutely loving it. Savoring this free existence along with the knowledge that I'm not doing anything wrong.

29 Mar '07
[my first and only attempt at fiction. i was downright pathetic and somehow always felt that i was copying both the form and content from somewhere.. old man and the sea? dont know. the idea, however came from this picture my dad had taken in Puri. of a man and his son, standing by the boat with the day's catch.]

He was about fourteen. Standing there with his back to the sea, his dark, wet skin glistening in the last rays of the sun, he was a picture of satisfaction. In front of him lay the day's catch, enough to ensure a week's supplies. His father tended to the boat looking for any cracks or damages while he played with the sand. Soon, both headed towards the wholesale market as the setting sun marked the end of yet another day. A day spent on a small boat in the middle of the sea. At the wholesale market, they would sell their catch to the local dealer who would in turn head to the man responsible for packaging, cold storage and transportation and a few days later, some Bengali in New Delhi's C R Park would eat the same fish for dinner, cooked deliciously in mustard oil by his wife, knowing little about the fourteen year old who formed the first link, in a series of many, between him and the fish on his plate.

Life was tough but not unfair in the little village in coastal Andhra. Most of the population earned their livelihood from the bounties of the sea. The sea which gave them their life. Shrinivas, or Shrini as he was called had gone along with his father in his fishing boat for as long as he could remember. He loved the sea and its sights and sounds. The sunrise which would see them push their tiny boat over the waves and head for calmer waters in the middle of the sea never failed to amaze him. The lazy afternoons which saw them taking a rest in the shadow of the boat's mast after having cast the net, waiting for the fish to come, soothed him. Wherever the eyes went, there was water, dotted with a few boats here and there, of fellow villagers and fishermen. There was no sound except that of the waves lapping the sides of the boat and the birds flying by. Shrini chatted with his father, learning new tricks everyday, hearing stories of the sea when his father was his age. That's the way it had always been. They were a generation of fisherman, each following the same method to learn the tricks of the trade. To them it was the only way to grow up, to lead a life.

25 Jan '07
[about friendship..]

They are the people you spend your entire day with. Once out of home, they are the ones that make you feel at home, become your family. Sure they were there even when you were a kid and had your ma and baba besides you. You had the "best friends" and the other friends, the ones you grew up playing cricket, badminton and a whole lot of on-the-road games. Then college happens and more importantly you get to know about a certain place called Hostel. Friendship takes on a completely different hue as you start to live day in day out with the same set of people who start exerting their influences on your life involuntarily. You pick up some of their styles. Be it the manner of speaking or their posture....

Never Let Me Go

I don't know how you pick your books. I read the title and the blurb. So when I found this book - Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro among the others my father had recently bought, I thought it might be a good time to get back to reading again.

The story is about Kathy, Tommy and Ruth as they spend their lives in Hailsham, a boarding school in the English countryside. As a thirty-something Kathy starts reminiscing about her childhood days, we are drawn to a world where everyone is brought up to become 'carers' and 'donors'. Ishiguro conjures up a world which is difficult to comprehend. We dont even fully know what these terms mean. Yet, he manages to put in the same ethos, the same doubts, the same little joys that we all must have felt while growing up. From the sense of pride in collecting items, to the fear of asking an elder about something we know is forbidden, from the love-hate relationships we had with our friends to the games we played; the process of growing up, getting to know the world around us but at the same time having one of our own is vividly portrayed throughout the narrative.

Reading the book is almost like walking through mist. There's a sense of apprehension which never leaves you. You are not quite sure of what to expect though you have some idea of what's coming. A delicate thread binds all the three principal characters. You can almost feel that it could snap anytime and change the course of the novel. It is this sense of fragility which makes the novel a pageturner. It's hard to 'let go'. Because even though as you read on and begin to feel that the end would leave you unsatisfied and sad, yet you want to get to it. To know for sure.

Never Let Me Go is a novel about a special bunch of kids. Their visions of adulthood, their struggle to come to terms with who they are and their hopes of achieving something which isn't meant for them. It's a story of friendship and love and the complex dynamics that rule most human relations. It hits you and would stay with you long after you have closed the book. It doesn't leave a good feeling even. It leaves you with more questions than answers. But it's a unique story. So removed from reality yet so close to it. And the most striking thing was the fact that at so many levels, I was able to identify with it. The english countryside description with its hillocks and ponds reminded me of similar ones I have read or listened to. And so many emotions which Kathy, Tommy and Ruth go through have been ones that I have felt in the near past.

It's an odd world that this novel is set in. Even after having read it only recently and now writing about it, I don't really know how to talk about it. Except that it's very human. And it has got an amazing pace to it. Not too fast. Not too slow. I didn't quite like his other book, 'When We Were Orphans'. But this one definitely makes me want to read more from Ishiguro.

Of Home and Conversations With Mom & Dad

Home has been good so far. The 'goals' essays hasn't yet come up though there has been slight progress. What's been particularly relieving and almost a surprise has been the conversations I've had with my parents. It's not that I didnt talk to my parents. But of late I had run out of topics. I didn't know if I should be troubling them with my worries and fears. And since there were so many of them, I mostly kept quiet, chatting about inconsequential things and getting my mother to complain that I had become a big bore. This time around though, I had a heart to heart talk with her. About things which I hadnt told her before. Things which are very close to me. It was nice. It eased me. No, she didn't come up with any miraculous solution to my problems, but I trust you to know what I mean. And of course we talked about Bangalore and my friends.

With dad, it was more professional. We talked about the schools I am applying to and the merits of an US MBA. My dreams. This over a few pegs of Absolut Vodka. I made him give me some points on the background/values essays (I mean who better than my dad to do it, right!) and we did come up with some pretty good points. And themes. This was over a glass of Red Wine. And of course, there was the usual talk of values, money, dreams, hopes, failures, friends, relatives. And I did my this-time-next-year thing to which he went ahead and did something like this-time-3-years-hence and what not.

I'm not the kind who is particularly fond of quotes. I like them. They even get stuck at times. And I've tried to maintain a list at different times in my life. But I came across this diary my dad showed to me. He's written down some stuff. A few incidents. Some thoughts. And there were some quotes at the end of it. Some, as I said, stuck.

Words are, of course the most powerful drug used by mankind - Kipling

Never apologize for showing feelings. When you do so, you apologize for the truth - Benjamin Disraeli

Dreaming

I hardly dream. Not just the flying over mountains kinds, you know. I dont think much about the future. What would I be doing same time next year. What will happen 5 years hence. I think it scares me. Thinking about it might ruin its chances of it actually happening. Superstition? Dont know. Come to think of it, every time I have, nothing like it has actually happened. Strengthening my belief that it's best just to keep doing whatever you are supposed to, without thinking that it will eventually yield the results you want it to.

But I've started dreaming again. The same-time-next-year, same-time-6-months-later kind of dreams. Maybe I'm so used to seeing them get shattered that I no longer care if they are. Maybe constantly losing can lend you a certain degree of fearlessness. A confidence even. Maybe the law of averages will finally catch up. May be I've changed.
There's a feeling that things are actually falling into place. A feeling that this is right.

I've started to look at things in a different light. Have been forced to in a way. But its hugely rewarding at times. The vaguest of things are slowly starting to take shape. Sitting in my room and thinking about what I want from my life and why, seemed the most impossible thing to do a few months ago. But almost every day I can find myself scribbling away at the text documents titled "Notes" or "Goals Essay" or "Why MBA". I love talking about it and thinking about it. I keep waiting for those rare moments when something suddenly becomes that bit more clear. They are few and far in between but I'm willing to wait. I'm generally an under confident guy. Those who know me might put it as humility. I guess they are nice people. But I know that at times I find it hard to believe in myself. This time around though, it's different. It's almost like all this while nothing happened because this was in store. And no, its not just about gut feel. It's about doing almost everything that is there to be done. It's about deriving strength from the self. It's about having the knowledge of having seen someone go through it.

I wish I could write about this phase of my life. It's very different from the last ones. But I'm still scared. I would rather have it all in my mind and just do what I'm supposed to do right now.

Taking A Walk

A guard talking to his relatives. I know the dialect he's using. A baby crying as his father tries to quieten him. A guy standing on the balcony and talking to his parents at home. Explaining why he wasn't able to call earlier. Too much work, he says. I wonder if thats the real reason. A car goes screaming past me. A couple taking a walk. The TV is on in a house. Some stock market stuff. I think about my stocks for a moment and realize there's no point. The weather is gorgeous. Even by the city's standards.

Long time since I took one of these walks. This one's short though. Hardly 20 minutes. I want to think about my essays but nothing really comes to my mind. Instead I just let it wander. Think about same time, last year. I do a little chain of thoughts thing. But come back after a minute or so. I fast forward to 2009. A thought makes me smile. I head back home.

On Track

I woke up at 6:00 today. That's like a good 3-4 hours before I usually do. I glanced through the text document which had the questions I wanted to ask him. I didnt want to miss anything.
To my frustration, I found his answering machine at the other end of the line. I shut down the computer lid and went back to sleep. Another great beginning to a week, I thought.

We talked for a little over 40 minutes. Yes, I woke up again at 10, checked my mail and found that he would be free. It was awesome. He spoke passionately about his school. Patiently answered my questions (there were quite a few "That's a great question, Atish" in between too!). He made so much sense and more importantly for me, he said that I made sense.

"All the best with the application process, Atish. Call me up or shoot me a mail whenever you have any questions regarding anything."

The B school students I have been talking to have been very helpful. But this morning's conversation was the best so far. It helped me come out of yesterday night's gloom. I think I'm back on track.

Looking Forward

Life can be overwhelming at times. So many things happening around you. And others that are not. Your life is intertwined with the lives of others. And all of it affects you. Even the smallest ones. Butterfly Effect, I guess.

It seems quite a struggle right now. So much to think about. Introspect. The Whys and the Hows. Every action, every wish has to be backed by logic. There's a lot to be done in the coming months and even thinking about all of it makes me uneasy. Your past tends to have control on your future. And it can be scary thought. The fact that people can and in most cases will, judge you by your past seems right and wrong at the same time. Funnily enough, it keeps me going. At least there is something to look forward to. Something really big.

If I don't make any sense, maybe it would help to inform you that I have to start on my essays soon and can see myself being completely taken over by this "apping" process. I would have to cite instances from my life and work. Leadership experiences at that. Sound coherent and logical with my goals. Be realistic yet stand out from the crowd. I would have to dazzle (maybe not in the same way the hero does in 21 but still!)
And on top of all this, there's me. Playing tricks with myself. One day, I would be beaming with confidence. The next day I would be doubting everything and even convince myself that there's little hope. Thankfully, I come out of the gloom sooner than later.

The enormity of it, the various pieces which would make the jigsaw, that's what gets to me on the worst of days. I don't have a plan B in place. In fact, I'm gambling by not changing what I can because it would not fit into the scheme of things. Then again, just because the stakes are so high, it makes it worthwhile. I feel very alone at times. Having to do everything by myself. Sure there's help around. Sometimes from unexpected quarters too. But it becomes difficult because apart from this whole B School thing, there's nothing else to look forward to. Life, seems to have come to a standstill.

My Mornings

I love my mornings. It's a different thing that they start at around 9:30-10:00! Getting up early has been and remains one of my greatest weaknesses. In school, before exams, I used to forgo that last chapter for an extra hour of sleep telling myself that there wouldn't be any questions from it. Statistically, I could say it worked. In college, things weren't any different. Morning classes were meant to be bunked. Here and now, my current employers have made sure that I don't have to change.

Mornings, to me, should be unhurried. And that's what they are in Bangalore. These days, quite often, it begins with an email which sets the tone for the day. A song from a friend, a longish reply to a question asked or one from a US B School student. Yes I am a sucker for long emails.

Having a cup of tea, glancing through the Bangalore Times and the sports page of ToI, changing channels from CNN IBN to Vh1 and MTV, putting on some music (these days its John Mayer) and just standing in the balcony for a minute, I let the day begin slowly. I think a little about what the day holds for me, if I have work at office or not, which match is on in the evening (Thank God for the Euro after the IPL!)

There's a certain freshness, a promise that I have come to associate with these mornings. Nothing out of the ordinary happens. But there's this feel good thing, an expectation even. Also it's one part of the day when my emotions have been constant. In the last couple of months or so, I have oscillated between feeling at ease and good about myself to feeling terribly low and doubting every step I have taken. I know everyone has them but I've had them too often for my own comfort. But almost every morning, I've felt like looking up to something. Its felt like a new beginning.

Last Week

There's so much to write about. But I don't seem to have the patience nowadays. So here goes another of my incoherent posts.
Last weekend, particularly Sunday, was great. Two friends came over from Delhi. Another couple arrived from Hyderabad. One in Bangalore shifted base to our house for three days. No we didnt go out of town on a trip or something. There was a lot of alcohol, insane amounts of hostel/college/life-ke-funde talks over mugs of beer or cups of tea. We had a blast doing nothing.

Sunday started with a breakfast of idli vada and filter coffee. Back home we took turns playing fastest fingers with the TV remote and then finally decide to go for a 4 o'clock show of Jannat.
With eight people giving a running commentary, Jannat turned out to be fun. A typical Bangalore evening greeted us as we got out of the hall. We decided to give our non-Bangalorean friends a taste of Purple Haze.
7 people downed 11 pitchers of beer as we drank from 7:30 to 11. To say that the Residency Road PH is so much better than the Koramangala one would be an understatement. Neil Young, Nirvana, Doors, Floyd, Maiden, Clapton... they played pretty much every thing and the others that I couldn't recognize; even they seemed terrific as we got high. The three smokers in our group finished around twenty cigarettes in the meantime. Next day one of my friends from Delhi said that the music Did get to him even though he hardly listens to Rock. Purple Haze, had lived up to its reputation.

The guys started leaving by Monday evening and from Tuesday it was back to work. Four days of no office, no MBA stuff. Yes, there were periods when I talked about the more important stuff going on in our lives with my friends. Catching up, sharing details. But it was more of a let out than anything else. We were happy to have made this little reunion.