story

Isn’t our life a story in progress?
Is it not filled with happiness, misery, joy, or uncertainty?
Every single breath of ours is a screenplay?
Our anger, cry, or longing: are these not some kind of screenplay?

If we take a break, think deeply. We realize it is a construct of our thoughts, past experiences, or upbringings.

We are the writers of our script, our life. We have a limited reel( time) to make the best out of it.

Because it every passing second, we are missing out on the best of our craft.

How is your story coming along? Is it a hit or a flop, or a struggle?

community

I got introduced to open source, free software in 2005-6. I made many friends, fought with a few. We had Linux-User-Group, Delhi. We would hang out at Raj Mathur’s house(RIP Raj). We would talk, discuss and in the end, go for a kebab. Other regulars would include Gora, Karunakar, Vivek, Triveni, and Gaurav.

It was a different feeling that time; when we said community, it felt like being part of it, the togetherness. We would visit and take workshops at various colleges around NCR, Rajasthan, and UP. It was different. I am still in touch with a few. We organized open source events, met over beers. I am still in touch with over a dozen of those folks.

Now when I see community, I feel it comes with strings attached. Either about a product or hiring or money or social media glitz. Instead of helping, creating community, making life better for the kids, it’s about sharing photos, writing blog posts, and getting followers. I feel the community is commercialized. So I try to stay from any of these communities.

fear

The more I have ventured into sales, the more I have realized it is about eliminating customer’s fear. In enterprise sales, there is one decision-maker who cuts the cheque but multiple stakeholders. So adopting something new, taking a decision is a tedious process and comes with lots of responsibility. The sales cycle is longer as well.

It requires a lot of perseverance, patience, and comforting the customer that everything will be alright. I got your back covered. But on most occasions eliminating all the fear.

stuck

Gayatri spent all her life in Hassan, a small town on the foothills of western ghats in Karnataka. She was married at the tender age of 16 to Mahesh. Her mother threw a lavish wedding along with paying handsome dowry to Mahesh’s family.

Now in her 30’s, Gayatri finds herself more mature. The early days of marriage were daunting for her. While her in-laws were cooperative, caring, and treated like their own daughter, Mahesh was not into her. During their first night, Mahesh mentioned their arrangements.

It’s been over a decade since their wedding and, Gayatri is without babies, uncommon in our country. Their parents and in-laws visited a dozen temples, tied threads, and paid a donation to various gods for the wish to see their grandchildren.

Last week Mahesh left for Mumbai for some event. Only Gayatri knew about it. It was TV9 news, where he was seen in different attire hugging his childhood buddy and walking fearlessly. It was pride month march and, Mahesh was participating in it. It was a rude shock for his family and, everyone was crying and angry both.

Mahesh was too scared to confess his sexual preferences with the family or go against societal norms. He would have been either killed or ostracized.

I attended Gayatris’s second wedding last week, arranged by her in-laws. It was no less than their own daughter’s wedding. Her mother-in-law was furious at his son and sad about the sufferings of Gayatri. The bride looked like a goddess in her dress and ornaments all over her. She was married to one of her old friends Bhanu.

I asked her politely about this secret vow she kept between herself and Mahesh. She cursed her poverty and illiteracy for this. She wants to give her future kids a good education. They don’t have to go through something like her.

acceptance

I was with a close friend last evening. We were talking about various subjects. One thing which ended up being common is accepting our life as it is.

Stoicism, Bhagwad Gita, and Buddhism all speak about living in the present and all talk about pain and accepting the sufferings. The sooner we understand that life is a mixed bag, full of suffering along with joy, the better our life becomes.

We start accepting it rationally. We give up fighting. We don’t curse ourselves or luck. We don’t blame others for it.

Cinema

People think becoming an is the end of it. I would say everything starts afterward, says Ira. It was another humid day during pre-monsoon in Mumbai and, I was sitting inside a crowded CCD, sipping my cold coffee in one corner.
Ira is in her early 20’s, round face with cute dimples and an athletic build. It felt like she returned from the gym or some dance class. The multiple piercing of ears and tattoos in her hands made her cast of some Hollywood movie already.

The person sitting in my next chair had left and, Ira had appeared with her broad smile. She asked if I am reading some ghost story, I said almost. I think it was cinema and stories of Satyajit Ray which started our conversation. Ira is from Ranchi and is in Mumbai now to make wings to her dream. Like many others in her age, she also thinks of making her name in Bollywood. It all started after her participation in the local beauty contest. It won her a few modeling assignments.

She mentioned how her first break as a cast in Bollywood put his family in shock. Her mother celebrated, her father was furious, and her brother was in rage and still not with her in talking terms. All because reel life portrayed her as an escort in that cast.

She mentioned the life of an actress is till the ’30s and, she has another decade ahead of hers. Life on-screen is different than reality. Acceptance, expectation, pressure, and morality are a few things one has to keep questioning daily. She starts her day on Instagram connecting with her fans and rest on running door to door at one or the other production house. Life has been a mixed bag for her, but she is not a quitter. She has been saving from her work, living frugally with three other friends who like her trying luck in Bollywood.

I had a meeting in another hour, so I exchanged pleasantries and left. I could have exchanged our numbers, but kind of Dork I am, I did not.

Fast forward seven years, I found her name trending on Twitter. She is making it big with a star kid in an upcoming romantic movie. Ira arrived with a big bang in her early 30’s. Her hometown and mother must be very happy and proud of him.

end

The challenging part of writing any story for me is its end. I feel so stuck at it. It is like a tunnel with no end. I have over a dozen stories lined without the endings.

I was told to drink some coffee, take walks. It helps at some times. But mostly it makes me an insomniac. Is this every writer has to go through? I don’t know.

Bewra

They would call him Bewra (a drunkard). He looked athletic with a broad chest and around 6 ft in height. He would wear the same torn jeans and a cap written “Attitude” on it. His eyes were brown and, his unshaven mustache, hair made him look like a hippie of the ’80s.

He looked like someone from a wealthy family, not a homeless begging for money to quench his thirst for alcohol. Sometimes he would address himself as Ajit Chaudhary while another Salman Khan or Sunny Deol, depending on what Bollywood actors are hot or in the news.

I would see him in the afternoon while going for my maths tutions. Some days he would dance break free or another sing in loud, mostly romantic broken heart songs. I would wonder if he is some detective or police informer in disguise of his looks. Other times seeing him crying, singing made me feel as if it was broken love. Sometimes we friends would joke if he is playing a character from some Bollywood movie or preparing for a big break in cinema.

Last year December, my hometown visit, I asked shopkeepers about bewra. They told me he moved to Vrindavan with the visiting Sadhus. The government banned alcohol in Bihar and, Bewra liked drinking quality alcohol.

Last week I saw the news about a stampede at a temple in Vrindavan. Among the death victims, he was also there. He had not aged at all, same mischievous smile with eyes closed. To my utter surprise, what was he doing at a temple? Many questions kept on hitting my head. Did Ajit Chaudhary turn into a Sadhu, offering devotion to Lord Krishna? What Corona or Alcoholism did not do, stampede did to him. Will they cremate, put it in fire, or throw him in the river for fish?

RIP Ajit.

the catch

Chinamma is a stout lady in her early 60’s. She had a few chickenpox marks on her face. She was wearing a red sari, jewelry in her ear, nose, and a gold chain on her neck. She was not an ordinary fish seller. Her basket had a fresh catch of Pomfret, Bhetki, Rawas apart from Crab and Prawns.

I met her during the Monsoon season when the sea behaves unevenly because of rain and wind. But fishermen venture into the sea to kill their hunger, feed the family. The risk is worth taking.

She would wake up early morning to escort her husband, son, and grandson to the nearby beach. They would have a meal and pray before venturing to the sea for a good catch.

A devout of Lord Vishnu, she did monthly fasts and avoided eating meat, fish on those rare days. On the other days, she could not avoid eating fish. She mentioned that both her daughters are happily married and lives in Bangalore. In 2012 July month, her husband bought a catch of a Pomfret. One of the fish looked unusual in size. Chinamma cut the fish in half and noticed small glittery stones apart from the intestine and river of blood. It appeared like some miracle. She prayed to her Lord Vishnu, washed those stones, and took it to the village priest. The pious man returned half of the stone to her and kept half as a donation.

If you are driving on the national highway 66 between Karwar and Kundapur, you will find a big temple of Lord Vishu. People across the state visit it.

I asked Chinamma, why after all the money, she continues in this business. She replied this is the only thing she is good at and enjoys doing. She does not want to retire at home watching TV but, she likes talking, meeting locals. That is her way of life.

hold

We hold on to our past. We compare our present to it. In some instances, we celebrate while suffer in rest. I have known some people constantly living and dying in the past. They gave up their purpose after losing money or loved ones. I have also seen some moving break free, fearless from their past, and making the best of their present.

Our life is a gift. We are better than the cattle: artificially born for consumption or a larva born to die in few days. How much do we have to hold on to our past and live miserably?