GMAT Prep - Day 001

DAY 001: I have decided to give my exam on end of April 2008. This is my first day and I have started off with Maths (or Quants to you jargon lovers).

Objective: Complete the Fundamentals of Quants.

In parallel I will also continue to clear my basic English grammar knowledge.

Next update in the night.

My Blog is back

I am extremely delighted to be posting on this blog after a gap of an year!!... thot everything was lost in eternity.. the old contributors to this blog are now all gone their own paths of life..will keep writing more..

Cheers!

Darkness - episode 1

Darkness.... I cant describe it. Cant describe the only color I see. They call it black! but wait I cant call it that. That the only color I see. I am blind.

You don't know how it feels to be blind. Its not scary anymore. No.... but its beautiful. Its a world of imagination. No rules, not preset notions. I have to form definition for everything. I struggled in the beginning, but now I am better. Yes much better, with more life.

I started off with feelings. It was difficult. How does a person look like when he is angry, or when he is happy? Before that, a much more basic question - How does a person looks like? Yes I have formed an image, no no I cant use that word. Image, this word has no meaning to me...I just picked it out from somewhere. How can I describe it then..... yes... I have formed a pattern of a human being. A pattern for a man, a pattern for a women. But its so complex or should I say interesting. I have made several patterns of each person. To me, a person has multiple patterns. When he or she is angry, I put him or her in an angry pattern; when happy, in a happy pattern.

I have defined laws to understand the different feelings. Feelings for me are nothing but those subtle undertones. How will you know how they feel? Yes, they are my colors. Somebody described me color orange as 'Bright color, mostly used to represent fire'. Yes I know fire, its hot its burning. So my angry pattern is of orange color.

My mother's feelings, oh! they are the most beautiful. I have given them color white. Somebody told me she wears white colored clothes. I have asked her the reason. She says she has to because dad is no longer with us. I don't understand. I don't know dad, I have lost his pattern. I was not this smart always. I am getting smarter, but have paid a price for my retarded growth. Dad! That's just a word to me.... That's the price. I get confused when Ma is not in her white pattern. I can see some other patterns in her sometimes... Orange, black ..aha yes black. They told me the night is black. Black is color of sadness, of loss, of pain. Sometimes I see black patterns in Ma. I get confused.

Sounds confuse me sometime. I don't like being in a crowd. There are so many voices, so many types of sounds, so many patterns....... I am not that smart still you know. I like quite places. My Ma takes me to quite places only. To galleries which pictures are on display. Two more words I don't understand- pictures and display. But she makes me understand. I can feel the edges of the pictures, but all the pictures are almost same. The edges are same! hard, cold and smooth. Their size varies though. But Ma always describes what's in those pictures. All the pictures sound so different. I think Ma is making the descriptions up. She is a good story teller, I think she is creating descriptions of those pictures. She always tries to make me feel good. Tries to be her white pattern.

Something happened two days back! I found a new pattern. Well not a completely new one, but different from its closest match. I am trying to name it a color, but I don't understand colors!! Its a confusing pattern, it gives me happiness (green), desire (red) and pain (black). It started when I heard this girl's voice. My Ma knows her. She came to meet us two days back. She touched me and I got this new pattern. I cannot give it a color... should I ask Ma?

"Ma! tell me something.... who was that girl?"

"Its too late my dear, goodnight". CLICK! sound of the light switch. Darkness again, no more patterns today, darkness in my definition.....

ADIOS 2006

31 December 2006

So then another year goes by and one can't help but look back at the colors, dents,question marks and exclamation marks left behind by the events unfolded.Like most other people, I open my diary thinking of putting my goals and resolutions on paper inspite of the fact that i know it would only require a few days to breakthem.Nevertheless the human spirit is hopelessly optimistic and enthusiastic.Who knows a day might come when I actually manage to keep my resolutions.I stare at the blank page in front of me.....

All my flatmates including myself are lethargic entities.On holidays its not unususalto see them sleeping like dogs. I get up and prepare tea for myself and run through the newspapers- the usual year end stuff about "The New Emerging India ", "The Great Indian Dream" etc. Suddenly my eyes fell upon this play at Prithvi Theatretitled - "Karoron Mein Ek"( One in a million...no wait.. One in Ten Million).A friend of mine had given me great reviews about it and having nothing great to do in the eveningI decided to go for it.In order to kill time and share the budget for the Auto Fare Imanage to convice my flatmates to come along.A few kicks and punches later all threeof us are ready.While moving out of our neat and tidy house my eyes fell upon the diary- the blank page having made no progress.I sigh , walk out and lock the door...

I love journeys - all types of them. Be it an Auto, a Bike, local train or my feet.Maybe because I find music in the rhytmic sounds of such vehicles- the cadence of the train wheels, the vrooming of the auto or the Tic- Toc of my shoes..somehow all these sounds fall in perfect sync with whatever plays on my pod.Anyways the three of us reach the theatre and find that we have half an hour to kill.So we head to Juhu Beach and roam around for a while.4'o clock were back in the theatre, the crowd slowly pours in and settles down.I notice the guy I chatted with few minutes back outside the theatre happens to be the background musician for this play :( the music gently picks up as the lights dim out and I am gone.I don't know what happened to me in those two hours neither will I tell you anything about the play.All I will say is this- there are plays which make you laugh or cry,there are plays which move you , there are plays which tear you apart and then there are plays which become part of your body, of your existence.It breathes as you breathe, it diesas you die.This play was of the last variety.I cannot help but mention this phrase from the play - "Akshar na gira" ( Donot drop words ).
Boy o Boy.

The three monkeys that were us now head to Irla Market for some shopping and eating.We roam around in what I would call Brownian Motion.Any logic behind what we see, shop, and eat is purely coincidental.Our behavior is the most accurate definition of Randomness.I head to the restroom and while I am taking a leak, I see these white tiles infront of me staring at me like the blank pages of my diary.I quickly pull back my zipper and run away.

My friends are pulling me for this New Years Eve party at Andheri Sports Complex.I am numb and drained from watching the play and do not feel like going but I still go.There are things i do not understand about my friends and there are things my friends do not understand about me.My taste in Movies, music, Books are somewhat different from thepeople around me- I would rarely ever go to see a Bollywood Masala Movie unless somewone points a gun at my brains.Now there are two possibilities - One - I am abnormal and all the guys around me are normal and Two - I am normal and everyone around me is abnormal.Similar such events have probably labelled me as "Social Outkast"( Outcast with a K coz im different).They think I am being reclusive but I am not.These are some vague uselessthoughts running through my mind as I head to ASC.
I meet my friends at the entry and as always I feel great to have them around.We enter the stadium to find a good crowd turned up topped with neat light arrangementsand a sound system that will drive you to an orgasm.Nelly Furtado lighted the fire, she came into action entertaining the crowd with some "Happy" numbers, singing ,dancing with her troops and surprising the audience by singing some hindi numbers as well.As the countdown to the new year approached , AR Rehman played some of his mesmerising numbers which caried forward the fire lit by Furatdo to a virtual bombshell which exploded bang at12 Midnite.We all find ourselves hugging each other.
There is probably nothing quite as great as starting a new journey with a celebration and with your friends around you.And what happened to my resolutions? well i did make someresolutions..standing there quiet between the jumping, shrieking crowd i really came to my own .I knew my direction and where I had to go.And for a change no pen and paper this time.
I smiled and whispered to myself - "Akshar na gira" - Donot drop words.
I love jouneys and I look forward to another one...and I shall find music in it...
Welcome 2007.

PS: - A poem which probably does the best work in summarising the year gone by -
The year that is passing
Has made us low and high..
With colors bright or grey
We did manage to fly.
Now is time for elation,
To swell with pride and joy
See our prize, the celebration!
The festive season has come by.
So here is the treat,
Another reason to greet….
I offer my wishes with a virtual hug,
Take the pill, light the candles
I bet happiness is the best drugJ


This was probably written by a friend of mine. She wouldnt tell me if she wrote it or notbut in my heart i know she did.Only she could. ;) Thanks P.

The Real Fighter

They made a film on him, named it on his nick name 'Cinderella Man' . To the world audience it looked like a movie gimmick of a life. The underdog fighting his way out of the ghetto of life. The Rocky story retold.

The film does justice to this man. Not to the completeness of his life but to some extent. He was a fighter - in LIFE. Kept his hands up all through his life, not just inside the ring, not just between the start and finish bells.

He won the heavyweight title of the world beating the 10-1 odds against him. But does the story ends there? Not by a long shot. We have this concept of world champions living big lives. Having a big house, perfect a wife or two, big cars; now here is a story, the story of James Walter Braddock.

Born in a poor Irish catholic family he grew up in dire straits. He never forgot about his roots, and no this is not a statement from a motion picture. Ever heard of a world champion going to fight a war with the Army. James, 'Jim' as they use to call him, fought gallantly in WWII. Have you heard a world champion working as a constructing worker?

Its said that when Jim was fighting his heavyweight championship challenge, after the 6th round, there was no one in the statium cheering for his opponent. The real fighter, one who can touch so many lives at once; he would have won even in his loss. But god does play his part.

"Lord! give me courage

Give me hope

So that I can last till the last round

Can still standup and raise my hands"

Cheer!...

It’s the time to hear,
So at least the ability is near..

The ears that were lost will heal in years that are to come..
Oh so this is what,
It sounds like to be a family..
And this is the music to which
People sway and I had looked in dismay..
Dismaying it isn’t so much!
It is deafening this new life.
I still don’t know.
My tongue twists in the mouth
An incoherent volley of words comes out..
I used to think I must be sounding musical!
Just that now I know it is a different kind of music,
Just why I could never win friends,

But then how dumb can I be
I never knew what sound was..!
Now I can hear, there isn’t much to hear,
Its deafening, roaring maddening…
Maybe I l get used to it
One day, when I will…
I know I will speak in the music
Which everyone will love…
They just rolled in the device,
And expensive disguise!
“silence is fear”,
The doctor smiles.. “its time to hear”…

It’s the time to hear,
Maybe they are right, “Its time to cheer”

This color..that color..

Holding the strings of vibes

We move to the dance of life.

Dance to the pain of life, to the joy of reality.

Dance to the song of love, to the sounds of time.

Move to life up and down.

Dance to the beat inside your soul.

-Chelsea DeVries

The other side...

Yesterday I woke up as a flowervase. In that house, on that study table. I woke up as a flower vase!. Empty flower vase. Empty distorted flowervase. Oh no.. I was actually an empty distorted ignored flowervase. Why?..How do I know why?
There was a bed by the corner of the wall facing me. ”Hey you, hey..Whats your name mister.”…
“ I am Wall, Mr Pale Wall.” It said… Uh..”nice name!”

“Mr Wall, you know how it feels to be an empty distorter ignored vase in a stranger’s house!”. Mr Wall had a blank look on his face. No emotions. I was sorry he wasn’t sympathizing with me. He looked like he stood there for ages and ages. He looked old. His face was wrinkled and shreds of pale white makeup were peeling off baring the dark brown skin. If only I could see him from the other side.

“Mr. Wall.. what do you see on the other side?”

“Well its nice..I see so many things”…”would you like to hear about it?”

“Oh ya… give me some attention. I am sad and I feel ignored. I am empty also!. You know how it feels to be jobless. Atleast you are protecting the room. They have some work for you!... I am so ignored and lonely. Why don’t you tell me what you see? Atleast it will keep me occupied”

“Oh dear vase… I have seen so much in my life. Let me say stories to you. You are the first one who wants to hear me out!”, said Mr. Pale.” You know they white wash me every six months. I am very pretty from outside. It’s only the inside that they don’t bother much about. You know I am pure shiny white in color from outside. Would you believe that…haha.. A bystander would often say. What a lovely shining Wall that is!”

“So let me tell you what I treasure and have witnessed in the twenty five years of my life. Mind you that’s quite a life for a Wall Ms. Vase. Quite a life. A girl was born in this room twenty years back. What a beautiful little angel she was. It was in this flowery garden outside that she grew up. Playing with butterflies, flying kites. She was a tom boy. She used to bang her cycle right into me all the time. I was so scared when she started to learn how to shoot!. She made a small tiny dot on me and she d aim at it with her air gun. Bang, she d miss it. It used to hurt like an ant bite.”, Mr Pale said with a laugh.

“When she got married nine years back, they had decorated me with lovely shining glimmering lights, with flowers and satin. I felt the most handsome that day. But from the inside things were always wrong. I wasn’t peeling but I felt very damp and creepy. She had cried all day sitting here in this bed. With a piece of paper in her hand. Hey Vase! I could never find out what the paper read. But I felt very sorry for her. Then they would not let anybody come in this room!.. I haven’t been decorated in the inside since then. I have been like this. I am peeling off, growing old. The garden outside still has flowers but I could never see her again.”

“Anyway, it dark outside now. The sun has set and I can see some kids playing in their front yards. They will grow up one day. I can see so many Walls , all bright and beautiful from outside. Only I don’t know whats inside dear Vase. Atleast you know you are hollow. You don’t hide anything inside you. Look at us. This is worse because noone outside knows whats behind us in the hiding. Hey I am sleepy man.. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Okay Pale pal. You go get a nap. I l be awake some more time, Thanks for giving me company”. I told Mr Pale. Nice Old chap. I was sitting by the window which was closed. I could not see a thing. I felt I will choke in sometime but the moon light flooded the room. It had seeped in through the glasses.”

“ Hey Vase…Hi!.. you are new.. Know what I come here everyday!... they haven’t put flowers in you. Not Strange. ”, The moon light was talking to me.
"You know when I had hands I would pluck flowers and my vase would always be full of lilies. I used to keep it there by the corner table. They sealed this window also. A vivid bunch of roses used to look into the room from here. They are still there outside. I still feel them on my skin as I used to do before.”

“Really!... how old are moon light?”..

“ I am quite old dear… you know that cupboard there. It’s got my clothes and books. I still seep in from the thin crack to smell them. And when I roam in the garden, it just looks like yesterday when I was playing and cycling there.”
“Oh and this good old wall.”, said the moon light with a coarse weepy voice.
“It used to be so lovely from inside when I was living here. They really don’t care about how things are from within. The people in this house. Everything is beautiful just to the passerby. I guess it was always the unfamiliar onlookers who were more important.”, the voice had remorse filled with anger.
“They buried me in a different city so that no one would know!”, the moonlight was talking to me. I wanted the Wall to be awake and hear all this. But it was fast asleep.

“Vase, I wish I could pluck some flowers and decorate you , but I cant. I will go now, there are heavy clouds. I am dying again.”

It kept fading and fading until it became pitch dark and I could hear no sound. Suddenly it started to rain outside. A heavy sound of water drops falling against the Wall. As if someone was crying.

I suddenly felt happy that I was an ignored empty Vase. Nobody could harm me, I could harm nobody.

Wicked world

Old generation people always are trying to paint a wicked picture of the present times. Many a times you might have heard them say "Back in our days, things were better". Are these claims justified? Is our time really wretched?

In my view any society has a sub-set of players whose characteristics remains constant across times. Some of the players and their characteristics are:
1. Politicians - They are always corrupt to a certain level.
2. Law enforcements - They are always ineffective and corrupt.
3. Religious clerics - They always will try to exploit people.

If we consider the above set and then judge the plight of things today, are we really living in a deplorable time? I will argue otherwise!

The level of corruption in politicians might be high today, we might not have any trust on our law enforcement bodies, but I think this is more visible today because of an energetic media and an independent press.

Honesty is a virtue of a good society. If on an average a society has honest people, the society is bound to show positive traits. It will have low levels of corruption, crime and incoherence.

Present times gives us a lot of examples of the widespread honesty that is prevalent. Take the example of ebay. This successful business is based on the assumption that there are more honest than dishonest people in the world. You might think this is an absurd point so let me put my prespective. Lets think that number of dishonest people selling their merchandise on ebay is more than the honest ones. The number of people who are getting chiselled off will rise. This in-turn will reduce the volumn of prospective shoppers visiting ebay and thus will set in motion a chain of events which will lead to the ultimate demise of the online market site.
There are a lot many other business ventures who are in business on the assumption of righteousness. Companies providing Credit Cards, monthly mobile installment schemes, home shopping etc. all are in business to a large extent because still an average person is honest.

I think we can all turn back and tell the older generation, "Our times are good! Still strangers step in to help me in my hour of need. Still my wallet is returned to me if I drop it somewhere". We should say "I like my times, as these will be my good old days when I am of your age"

I will quote a para from the famous Baz Luhrmann song Sunscreen

"Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders"
....So lets live now!