Whispering Shadow

I have been leading an awfully mundane existence off late. Every time I open my diary, I end up writing a nothing special and send it back to where it belongs. Today, I decided to try hard, and churn up a diary entry. I ended up writing the same thing again. I have been wondering where the 24 hours disappear everyday. I turn to my blog in hopelessness. The inspiration being my the huge list of daily missed calls . It's good to have a big social circle in a city, but it's tough to keep in touch with everyone in it. Especially, in cases like mine, where friends are the only people you have to fall back on, it's all the more important to stay connected. It's shocking the number of times they trying getting in touch with me, and even more shocking is the number of times I miss out on the good, refreshing conversations. This "Nothing Much" schedule should on the contrary give me more time to keep up with my pals but wonder where does the time go? I have no defenc...

I don't know whether to call it his good luck or my bad luck. I happened to have taken a ride in an auto rickshaw , with a driver who perhaps had an opinion on everything you can find in a dictionary and more, and who made sure he expressed it. It's an excerpt from our conversation . Actually can't call it a conversation because it was him who was doing all the talking. Circa 2002, in the garden city, on one of my trips from the railway station to my destination Opinionated Driver OD: Where are you from?? Harrassed passenger ie ME: Mumbai OD: Are you north indian? ME: No, why do you ask? OD: From who are you then? ME: What??? OD: I mean which caste you from? ME: (thinking wt shd I say to shut him up..decide 2 stay silent) OD: I hate North Indians. ME: Hmmmm OD: They spoiling my city. All shopping mall opening. Shopper stop is killing the lungi. No one wearing kannada outfits. ME: (trying to act deaf) OD: My son too forcing me to buy jeans. I told him no. It is not our dress...

Being a food-lover, dining out is a very essential and indispensable part of my routine. I have tried out a variety of restaurants, different, in terms of factors like cuisines, ambience, pricing and customer satisfaction. Of them I have had some fantastic experiences and some forgettable ones too. But of all what I remember, most of them are related to the bit where the meal is over. Given tips is a very debateable practice. I have on numerous occasions persisted with my dad on not giving tips, especially when the food is not up to the expectation or the service has been poor. He insists that atleast a 5% tip is a must give no matter what. His reasoning being that the if the food is not great, then the waiter is not the person to be blamed and if the service is not great, then consider it as an appreciation of the delectable food. He, nonetheless, fails to answer when neither criterion is met. On one instance, my friend ended up giving the waiter a Rs.40 tip. The meal came to around R...

“Woaaaaaaaahhhhhhh” I hear a loud roar. And guess what, it sounds like me! That’s not all. There’s also a tingling sensation in my belly. I’m free falling. I never reach ground zero though. It’s like a video being played in a loop. Before you start wondering what I’m exactly doing here, it is simply a description of one of my recurrent dreams. One of my last few blogs was on insomnia. This one is in the backdrop of the opposite state, the state of being completely cut of from the real world, in the deepest of sleeps. Dreams are a completely inexplicable phenomenon. I have had my rendezvous with them more than once for sure. What’s shocking is over the past few months, I actually recollect bits and pieces of what I have dreamt very often, and I can’t help but feel amused at the haphazard and illogical nature of each one of them. Like in one of my dreams some time last month, I saw this long corridor with a number of identical straw doors, leading to a series of stairs carved in rock, wh...

It happens so often that while walking down the railway platform, you unintentionally bump into someone. Not many of us will be surprised if we hear “Andha hai kya. Dekh nahin sakta.” The only feeling we have then is that of indifference. Mumbaikars have time and again been glorified as the people with a welcoming attitude and a never-say-die spirit. This has been exemplified after catastrophes, both natural and man-made. Take for instance, the floods which have become frequent visitors of the city and the terrorist attacks on civilians which have been giving the former close competition. Hats off to the resilience of the city! All said and done, I see that Mumbaikars chiefly lack in one aspect, that’s giving respect to their fellow residents. Not one person hesitates to take out their daily frustrations on a stranger by passing boorish statements and giving discourteous replies. Is it that the unity and deference come only at times of adversity, to be lost again, in the daily taxing r...

I guess it's the initial excitement of having my own blog once again that is causing me to put up stuff so random so often. This blog comes during one such phase. It is about "void"- the feeling of "nothing"ness. It's something which I just haven't found any valid justification for but it yet happens quite often. It isn't deja vu. Take for instance last night. I was working on this idea of mine. Looking all over the net, magazines, newspapers and everything else I could think off. I couldn't channelize my thought-process to actually come up with something worthwhile. I spent 5 whole hours doing this. I give up all hope and go to bed. That's when stuff starts flowing in, as if a river of thoughts blocked by a dam of confusion had finally broken it's way through. When I'm shit weary, wanting to just shut my mind off and retire, my sub-conscious mind is adamant on not switching off. This goes on till about 5 am in the morning. I'm ha...

I recently happened to visit a MTNL QCSC. Ironically, QCSC expands to Quick Customer Service Centre. I had to submit an application for a new telephone connection.Being a government office I was expecting some delay in proceedings. What followed was to become a real test of my patience. I walked in and stood at the assigned counter. Seeing only 3-4 people I was hopeful it'll not be a very time consuming. I heard a lady seated behind me scream "Dikhta nahin hai peeche line hai. Line mein aa." I stared down the corridor to see the line stretching to some 20 people. I myself being a person who hates intruders in a queue, obliged by taking one of the seats at the end. On my left was a man, who reminded me of Tom Hanks in Cast Away. Not that I am condescending toward those who cannot afford grooming themselves, but then when you are getting yourself a plan of Rs.2000 a month for unlimited calling, I doubt you can't afford the little bit for yourself. Seemingly unkempt and ...