Random Scribbles

This is where I scribble what I please, when I please and how I please…

Archive for July, 2005

Scramble for a highchair – Scene 2

Posted by AtPeace on July 31, 2005

It’s afternoon & no sign of another chair. Cha! No one seems bothered. I call up again, and I’m reassured that ‘someone’ would be sent soon. I continue working, keeping my hopes alive. As the day fades away, so do my hopes.
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Scramble for a highchair – Scene 1

Posted by AtPeace on July 31, 2005

After a refreshing weekend, I return to office dreading the 76 hours that I need to bill this week. As usual, my vinayagar idols are displaced, the miniature plane on top of my monitor is upside down, my keyboard is at an angle and the dustbin is under the chair – proof that someone’s been ‘cleaning’ my desk.

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Of Thayir Saadhams and Geoffrey’s – Scene 2

Posted by AtPeace on July 30, 2005

Later in the day, as we go down for lunch, we continue our tirade. ‘Un kalyanathuku vandhuttu unakku gift tharama, avaruku mattum gift tharuvom’, P tells B and then adds, ‘Avar mattum use panra madhri edhavadhu tharuvom’. My eyes meet P’s for a fraction of a second and we both burst out laughing. ‘You’re perverted. Kevalam di nee’, P accuses me. ‘Ada naaye! Nee dhan modhala siricha… Unna pathu dhan ennake thonichu!!’. ‘Illa, nee dhan modhalla -‘. ‘Of course not, nee -‘. ‘SHOO!’ exclaims a loud, disgusted voice from behind, the source being B, who stalks out of the elevator. P and I continue bickering until we reach foodcourt, where we unite to bicker over ‘traitors’.

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Of Thayir Saadhams and Geoffrey’s – Scene 1

Posted by AtPeace on July 30, 2005

After a 3-month sojourn abroad, D and I return to office. It was truly great to be back amongst my friends P, B, M and K. After the initial ‘hi’s and the distribution of the chocolates to my team, I take off for the pantry to discuss more stories over our cups of tea.

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A for Arya??? Naaah! A for Anil!!!!

Posted by AtPeace on July 27, 2005

‘Arya? Who’s Arya?’ I ask V.
‘Arya theriyadha? Arya theriyadha ungaluku?,’ V sounds very surprised.
D and I exchange looks. It’s obvious to me D doesn’t know Arya either.
‘Illa, theriyadhu’, D tells V.
‘Arindhum Ariyamalum hero… super-a irupan…’ V explains as a sheepish grin crosses her face. ‘Epdi Arya theriyadhu ungaluku?’
‘Yei… adhan THERIYADHU-ngrom la’, I say…. Cha! Oru moonu maasam oor-la illana ennena miss panna vendi iruku… Innum ennelam miss panni irukomo, I think, as I ask V again… ‘Yen, avan avlo nalla irupana?’
‘Amam, Madhu, super-a irupan… Oh, I think I might have a photo… in some forward… irunga’, she says and turns to her PC.
Interested, D and I move closer to her monitor to get a better view. After a few moments, V locates the mail and opens it…
Hmmmm…. I think… ‘Okay va dhan irukan… ana…’

D looks at the monitor thoughtfully, she’s still judging him, I can see.
‘Enna Madhu ‘ana’, nalla illaya?’ V questions me, with a little indignation. She glances at his picture again and adds, ‘super-a irukkan… neenga enna ipdi solliteenga…’
‘Illa pa, he’s okay, but you know…’ I sigh. ‘Therila, enakku avlo super-a irukara madhri theriyala… Maybe ellarayum Kumble-voda compare panradhu nala, enakku andha madhri thonudho ennavo… hmmm…’ I trail off.

D comes out from her reverie just in time to say ‘Thoo! Karmam!!’

I grin and escape from their cubicle.

 


[Seri, all right, here’s the truth – none of the above actually happened, though it very possibly could have. And I reserve my comments about Arya. For all I know, my mind might change at a later point of time!!! 😉 ]

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The shortest and (happiest) love story

Posted by AtPeace on July 27, 2005

This is one of the best forwards I have ever received.He asked “Will you marry me?”
She replied “No”.
They lived happily ever after.

When you come to think of it, there’s a lot of sense to these three short sentences. Wouldn’t life have been much simpler and happier if women had stayed on Venus and men on Mars?

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Reaching God

Posted by AtPeace on July 24, 2005

This is from Paulo Coelho’s note in his book ‘By the River Piedra I sat down and wept’ :“..we must never forget that spiritual experience is above all a practical experience of love. And with love there are no rules. Some may try to control their emotions and develop strategies for their behavior; others may turn to reading books of advice from “experts” on relationships – but this is all folly. The heart decides, and what it decides is all that matters.

All of us have had this experience. At some point, we have each said through our tears, “I’m suffering for a love that’s not worth it.” We suffer because we feel we are giving more than we receive. We suffer because our love is going unrecognized. We suffer because we are unable to impose our own rules.

But ultimately there is no good reason for our suffering, for in every love lies the seed of growth. The more we love, the closer we come to spiritual experience. Those who are truly enlightened, those whose souls are illuminated by love, have been able to overcome all of the inhibitions and preconceptions of their era. They have been able to sing, to laugh, and to pray out loud; they have danced and shared what Saint Paul called “the madness of saintliness.” They have been joyful – because those who love conquer the world and have no fear of loss. True love is an act of total surrender.

…Thomas Merton once said that the spiritual life is essentially to love. One doesn’t love in order to do what is good or to help or to protect someone. If we act that way, we are perceiving the other as a simple object, and we are seeing ourselves as wise and generous persons. This has nothing to do with love. To love is to be in communion with the other and to discover in that other the spark of God.”

I don’t think there is anything more I can add.

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All in a day’s work…

Posted by AtPeace on July 23, 2005

‘M, what would you like in your guy?’ a chat window pops up, when I’m working hard to decipher the code in my black-n-green screen. It’s A. ‘Huh?’ is my response.’No, I wanna know if you would like your guy to wear clothes of one particular colour’, A tries to explain. To me, it sounds like A’s recently been hit on the head with a brick. I’m truly mystified. ‘A, what’s up? What exactly is it that you want to know?’ I try once more.

He then sends me a forward in an attempt to explain – it’s a forward I have received several times before. (It’s the questionnaire from a guy to a girl asking ‘Why do you stop talking and look at me everytime I enter the classroom?’, ‘Why did you stop singing the other day, when I looked at you?’ and other such foolish questions with equally foolish options. The forward also has the reply from the girl rebuffing the guy, with obvious answers to every one of his questions. Apparently, at some point, some guy decided that the rebuff was too much to endure, and modified the genders, making it appear as if it was originally from a girl to a guy.) One of the questions in the original forward was ‘I mentioned casually that I like the colour blue. The next day you wore a blue salwar. Why? Options (a) You wore it because it’s my favourite colour. (b) You wore it to please me… and other such lousy ‘options’. This had been altered to the girl mentioning that she liked blue and the guy wearing a blue shirt the next day, in the forward that A received.

*sigh* Poor A, the fool that he is, found this a little bewildering and wanted to know if girls indeed prefer guys wearing shirts of specific colours. (Trust me A, as long as a guy is fully clothed, I wouldn’t mind anything, I want to answer.) ‘No, A, we really don’t have any such preferences. Now that you mention it, we don’t even notice the clothes that guys wear’, I venture to explain. A is startled. ‘You mean girls don’t care at all about all that?’. ‘Of course we don’t, A. We have better things on the planet to discuss about’. ‘Oh….’, A trails off. After a few seconds’ silence, he ventures again. ‘Appo pasanga dhan loosu madhri ponnunga pinnadi alayarangala?’ he asks. Sadly, A, yes, I say. With another ‘Oh….’, he relapses into what I assume is a thoughtful silence. I leave him to ponder over what was apparently a relevation to him and resume my war with the black-n-green screen.

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