Tuesday, July 27, 2010

One more time

Many a times, we spend/waste time contemplating what could have been. Sometimes it becomes an obsession. An obsession so strong that we forget ‘what has been’. We forget the most memorable incidents which happened in life at some point or another, some good, some not so good. I am not trying to advocate dwelling on the past but sometimes, a remembrance of incidences from past helps in motivation, sometimes it helps in bringing a smile on face, sometimes it reminds of bitter experience and you promise yourself you would never put yourself in situation like that again. But most special are those moments which you want to relive again. Moments when recalled immediately bring the response ‘one more time’.

Today I tried to do reverse. Keeping ‘one more time’ phrase as a constant in mind, I tried to move the sliding scale through the lifetime, at various phases to check which incidences occur like a flash, without any effort.

I want to celebrate diwali like in childhood one more time. Get up little prior to dawn when it is not too dark but not too bright as well and light up fulzhadis (sparklers firecrackers) and try to draw temporary designs of glow from fulzhadis in the air. I want to visit those days of school one more time when I would finish my Tiffin during classes or during 5 min break so that the 20 min recess can be fully utilized for playing. I want to write diary one more time as I used to, capturing small, irrelevant details but writing in a manner as if I am a great author.

I want to go to my junior college one more time, when I didn’t even used to know quiz/mid-term time-table and used to carry ‘supporting material’ of all subjects and then trust my ‘special ability’ to get through. I want to live 4 years of engineering one more time. I want to relive that moment one more time when I decide to change my section in 2nd year, which till date is one of the best decisions of my life.

I want to enjoy those initial training days in HSBC one more time, when ‘one gets paid for getting trained’.I want to work with my last team in HSBC one more time. I want to relive those days in ‘Sharda residency complex, Erandwane, Pune’ one more time, creating crazy ‘kaka songs’ along with the best friends in life and literally rolling on floor laughing. I want to spend weekends exploring new restaurants and dreaming of having my ‘one-of-its-kind’ restaurant one day.

I want to meet her one more time, watch her first getting amused and then laughing at my silly jokes and use these moments as an excuse to keep looking at her. I want to tell her how much I love her fully knowing that she doesn’t feel the same way and then enjoy the feeling of burden being lifted from my shoulders.

I want to cry uncontrollably in happiness one more time like I did when Manchester United beat Barcelona in 2007-2008 Champions league semi-finals. I want to get stunned as I was when friends around me were celebrating when Edwin Van der Sar saved Anelka’s penalty and United were crowned European champions.

I want to let alcohol do the talking through Sher-o-shayari with some amazing friends from XLRI on TFEMR L-top and watch the huge flames coming out of Tata Steel change colour from blue to pink to yellow to black. I want to shriek in happiness finding beer bottle which I thought was empty, half full, experiencing firsthand the,’ is the glass half-empty, or half-full’ adage.

No matter whatever, however, wherever you do or plan to do, remembrance of some memories from past instantly bring out the response, ‘one more time’.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Art of Leaving

The first question which can come to your mind after reading the title is, “Did you mean Art of Living? “, ‘Google-search suggestion’ style. And probably if I mistakenly say yes, there will be millions of different views on art of leaving, just like google throws up millions of links if we click on suggested option. But no, I didn’t mean art of living. Living in my opinion is as much a science as art. I would really like to discuss this further with someone capable (read ‘vella’,’jobless’).

‘Art of Leaving’ phrase came to my mind while chatting with a friend few days back (Thanks, O friend!!). But I was pretty sure that there are many jobless people like me (& that friend :P) in this world and this phrase surely must have been popped in some ‘creative’ (?) mind earlier. So, I did google search. Google didn’t suggest alternative option- ‘art of living’. In fact Art of leaving itself was one of the suggestions in search box as soon as I typed ‘Art of…’. Now, mind runs 98979695959 raised to the power 23456007708 times faster than typing as proved by scientist Shambhumani. A word on Shambhumani. He is a maverick. BM-A XLRI, 2011 batch, ‘consumer behaviour’ course students should be knowing him through ‘Shambhumani, his gf Riya, lone servant Ramlal and their haunted house’ story which was discussed in class. Shambhumani’s theory was at work and even before I had finished typing, my mind thought that Google is very smart and it has predicted that people, especially in Asia might invariably be making spelling mistake between Living and Leaving and hence put Art of Leaving as a suggestion to help them.

First 3 results in google search were in fact on Art of Living foundation. But 5th result was titled ‘Art of Leaving’. Finally I had found someone creative. Art of Leaving is a 2004 documentary by Brian Kamerzel. It is described as a journey of self-discovery for a Romanian immigrant trying to regain the past through painting. I decided to explore it later. There was also a link on ‘Art of leaving and living forever’ on Indian PR blog site. It talked about trying to leave a thought so even while you leave an organization, you can live forever in minds of organization and its people. I marked it as ‘to be read later'(when I will decide to quit an organization). Instead I decided to note down what I thought is art of leaving and I remembered following anecdotes:

In school, once sports events were going on. Instead of cheering I thought that it was more logical to run away. So, I along with few friends climbed and jumped 8-10 feet compound wall even without caring about the fact that my bicycle was inside and home was 5 km away!! Someone spotted us, senior boys were sent after us and everybody except me was given the popular ‘public felicitation’ (beating). Teacher found it hard to believe that someone so short and thin can even dare to climb the wall and I got benefit of doubt! This is art of leaving.

Many lecture halls have front door and back door as was the case with my junior college. Leaving through back door after attendance, in tacit collusion with other students so that teacher doesn’t suspect or choose not to suspect is art of leaving.

In Engineering, once me and one of my friend were chatting during lecture. Because of my reputation (or lack of it) only I was asked to leave the class. My friend thought that it was his moral duty not to stay and instead accompany me to canteen. So he too left the class not caring about Prof’s warning. This is art of leaving.

In XLRI, Art of Living sessions were arranged for us in first year. Sessions were split across 3 days, morning and evening. After missing morning sessions for 2 consecutive days, I was politely asked to leave the course and I along with few fellow ‘sleepy’ rebels politely left. This is art of leaving.

On a serious note, letting things go which are not in one’s control is art of leaving. Easy to say, quite difficult to practice.

Moral of the story: ‘Leave and let Leave’