The Other Side of Life

I still remember the first race I won. Frog Jump. I jumped on my thighs like a damn frog and I was better at it than anyone else. I got a gold medal for that. The Principal congratulated me on successfully making a fool of myself and jumping around like a frog because, yes, that is a skill which will help me for the rest of my life. I also remember how I cried when I didn't win, trying to carefully balance a lemon on a spoon, stuck inside my mouth. I gave up at the start line. The girl who won? She had her eyes squinted on to that spoon through out and she didn't lose her concentration for even 1 second. The Principal congratulated her for successfully running around with a lemon in her mouth. I hope she is using that skill well now. When I look back, it was all so stupid. When I was trying hard to keep that lemon on my spoon and I realized that one kid had already specialized the art of balancing and was racing away to victory, I stopped trying. Nothi...

..Sucks. You know you have grown up when.. Every second update on your Facebook news feed is a wedding or an engagement. The horror of it all struck me last week with this update - "It's a girl!". :-/ You walk into grocery/retail stores and don't migrate towards the snacks section to pick up a packet of Lays or Uncle Chips. You actually stand in the Personal Wash section and compare Surf Excel and Tide. (For the love of me, I don't know how they are any different.) When your body clock sets itself at 6:45 am! I don't even know how that happened. It's almost an insult to my life's ideologies. You talk about your life's ideologies and principles. Your incentive for traveling is the Daily Allowance! Retirement planning becomes a reality. I mean, you do it for tax benefit and blah, but whatever. You accepted it, right? The most dialled number on your phone log is, wait for it, the broker's. You do not, come what may, wish to go out on ...

I have a genuine problem here. Who was the genius who declared our Generation as Generation Y, the set of people who can be gleefully described as Mobile phone addicts, Internet dependents, Junk food lovers, whose staple diet includes Pizza, whose day begins and ends with Facebook and who think SMS language is an Oxford defined standard? I respectfully disagree.   I mean, yes, this is what we may have become now, but this is not what shaped us. This is not what defined us or made us who we are today! There's a lot more to this lot of us, who grew up in the 90s. And today, I undertake the noble task of re-defining my Generation. I may never be able to cover the whole gamut, but feel free to add on in the comments section! We grew up watching Doordarshan! - Cable TV was a rarity. We got our first cable connection only in the 1999 World Cup. Till before that, it was Doordarshan. And the worst days of my life were the days following the demise of former Presidents, whe...

And I am back with a book review! Book: RIP Author: Mukul Deva No. of Pages: 286 Genre: Thriller, Fiction Publisher: Westland Books RIP by Mukul Deva is a fast paced read, set in the current context of anti-corruption movements, hapless public, politicians who cannot be touched and the general epiphanies about change. The story is about a group of ex-army men who decide to take law in their own hands when numerous protests by activists have no impact on the political class. They turn vigilantes and challenge the Government head-on by assassinating the top brass and making a mockery of their so-called establishment. To counter this group, an alert politician engages a corrupt ex-army man, willing to stoop to any levels and in a story with many twists and turns, the race between the two groups turns nail biting. And finally, ends up in mission possible. The good things first. Its a fast read. Whether you enjoy the story or not, you will definitely finish the book with...

I swear I heard them. It was a cold December winter night, two weeks back. I was tucked in two layers of razai and clutching my hot water bag for life. My head was inside the warm blanket, lest any cold air enters.  And then I heard it. A strange ruffle and a shriek. I slowly formed a small hole in my razai's enclosing to investigate the sounds. There was no mistaking the source. It was my bookshelf. I strained my ears to try and understand what was going on. Oh yes. It was the books. "Will you move? Bloody hell. You are standing on my back cover! If you don't move, I will tell all my fans and they will sit at Jantar Mantar and protest against you and your stupid establishment. MOVE. NOW." It was Five Point Someone, Chetan Bhagat's magnum opus, speaking to none other than Britannica's Encyclopedia. The giant encyclopedia moved with the slightest of movement and shifted his bulky weight. He grumbled, "Hell ya. Establishment. Who even looks a...