Saturday, April 24, 2010

For more jaankari, le lo hamari.

This is not about another Robert Bruce and the Spider. So those few who already know what this post is all about-Have a good laugh, and for those who don’t-“Welcome to Infoedge!” It’s been more than three months that I have been working with this company, have become belated too new to the system now. Have seen lot of things in the company since then. Loved a few of them (I am not talking about Golu), hated a few of them (Smarika Singh for instance) and been neutral towards the rest of them (Sanil Sebestian’s status messages on FB). Not only this, I have even had my mathematical concepts brushed up here. I am sure very few people know that the rise in the level of interest of participators in a lunch table (or even at the work station) is directly proportional to the rise in the number of suggested ways of finding PB's whereabouts. The math doesn’t end here. I would rather not talk about the concept of parallel lines. I know some of you might have already said the sacred prayer-No one blah blah blah on parallel lines. I am not very pleased with this :-(

Before rushing to other experiences, let me stop and say hello to the memories of my beloved ex-phone. I still remember how till the end I could not believe that it was not a prank. Had it been with me today, my phone and I could have given a strong competition to the Amla-Reliance love story. Good that Amla changed her number. Now its Meenakshi’s turn to depart from her beauty queen Nokia 52 something. I can’t figure out why she takes away her phone from me as soon as she realizes that I am going to press any of its keys. She gives a “isme jo data hai wo confidential hai…aap ise mat dekhiye” look! But I know expecting Meenakshi to change her phone is like expecting Imran to quit smoking. I wonder if all the girls of the world were attracted to the guys who smoked, Imran would have married Salma Hyke. But then it is good that things don’t work this way. After all it gives me immense pleasure to know that he would be associated with Kanpur for all his life now!

The post remains incomplete without the mention of AB(sconding) and Shivani dot ajay at gmail dot com. We three have some real good times together these days. We go out on Maggie lunches (and give the food poisoning responsibility to our Boss), joke around about irrelevant things, and if you have observed, we look like a podium when we stand next to each other. Abhishek 1st prize, Devanshi-2nd prize and Shivani-3rd prize. It can’t get funnier. I am surely going to miss AB’s surprise song transfers via ‘neela daant’ to my phone, and the way my phone lights up and displays ‘receive data from King of Kings’. Now ‘King of Kings’ is funny again. Anyway enough footage to AB, lets move on.

Apart from Smarika Singh, another person I hate is the bearded man who enters Sharmeen Maam’s cabin and keeps her busy with meetings, data and technical stuff every time I need to get her signatures on the letters. I keep waiting for him to come out and he doesn't! It seems as if he is making a mockery of my patience. I hate him as much as I hate getting up early in the morning. I abhor him as much as I abhor Shivani when she pronounces ‘Basant Vihar’ to what is actually Vasant Vihar and happens to be the place where I lived. But I love Shivani when she gets surprise bottles for me. And also when she says that I am the problem of her life. AB and Amla say the same thing. Lucky they are to have a problem like me.

Problems remind me of the health problems Amita is facing these days. But then they are not competent enough to prevent her from cracking jokes, laughing and enjoying all the time. I can visualize a day when her 2-3 year old kid would give Amita her handbag, hang a water bottle around her neck and tell her, “Mommy office me zada masti mat karma..apki bahut complains aa rahi hain..” to which Amita would reply, “ek chutki masti ki keemat tum kya jano chhotu baby!” [Act2 Scene 1 Enter: Manisha] and Manisha would say, “ek chutki…how LS!” and then we would go on discussing all the so called LS words we normally come across. Words like Neodda, Thanda le lo, and sankoch would be star performers in the discussion and it would be garnished with Shikha’s peculiar kind of a smile. Prerna as usual will not spend her brains on this 'sensible' discussion and just be a patient audience.

Lot more to be discussed, lot more to be quoted. I would keep updating things as they come up. Kya Meenakshi apna handset change karengi, kya Amla dobara usi shop se Maggie khayengi, kya Shivani apni mail id change karegi, Kya Manisha badal jayegi aur use crèche ke bachchon se pyar ho jayega, Kya Imran ki ‘unse’ kabhi phone par baat ho payegi, kya log punching machine kharab karna band kar denge, kya mere dahej lobhi sasural walon ki maang badhti jayegi, , kya JS Mumbai ki openings kabhi close hongi, kya log Vivek Khare ke cabin se chairs lena band karenge, kya AB ki nayi company me sach much saare Saturdays off honge, kya log Amita se printer aur Xerox machine ke bare me poochhna band kar denge?

Jaan ne ke liye dekhnge dharawahik “Shalu ke pyar” ka agla episode. hum log. Tiding!


Thanks and Regards. Lol.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

I want to be a kid

For this one moment, I want to be a kid
And do everything, once upon a time I did

Sit on my father’s lap and recite a nursery rhyme
And then ask him to lift me, so that I can touch the wind chime

Proudly tell my mom how I rode the bicycle without supporters
And ‘seriously’ fall in love with the TV news reporters

Keep all the self-esteem, pride and honor at stake
And threaten to cry if I am not given the cherry on my B’Day cake

Make faces on being denied a ‘fruity’ in winter season
And believe god’s existence without ever looking for reason

Hate milk and secretly throw it away in the garden
And later feel guilty for the deed and beg Almighty’s pardon

Jump on the carom board if I fail to get the queen
And fantasize about traveling alone when I am eighteen

Like superheroes and find Spiderman better than the rest
And then feel proud to believe that my daddy is the best

Loiter around with my pet and call her my best friend
Look at things from my perspective, from my end

Talk to sun till late afternoon everyday
And try to convince it to make a night stay

Come across strangers and give them a smile
And nonetheless, dream of growing up all this while

Scream nonsense, talk gibberish, act stupid
For this one moment, I want to be a kid.


Devanshi
2004

Ai mere mann

Ai mere mann kuch aisa karte hain
Chhod saari uljhanein, kahin aur chalte hain
Har pal dakhal deti is duniya se door
Kuch der ke liye hi sahi, mahaul badalte hain

Jahan khamoshi hi khamoshi ho chaaron or
Na waqt ki chinta na logon ka shor
Bass neela aasmaan aur use chhoo kar guzarti hawa
Suna hai khwaab me milti hai aisi jagah

Log kehte hain tu kahin bhi ja sakta hai
Jo koi na pa sake use tu pa sakta hai
Agar ye sach hai to bass kuch pal
Mujhe apne saath us khwaab me le chal

Kabhi sote huye kabhi jaagte huye
Kitna waqt gaya sapno ke peechhe bhaagte huye
Thodi si fursat ab mai apne liye bhi pa loon
Kuch dil ki sun loon, kuch dil ko suna loon

Tere kaano me dheere se...chupke se kehna hai
Kuch der ke liye mujhe us khwaab me rehna hai
Aa hum dono us khwaab ki talaash me nikalte hain
Chal mere mann...kahin aur chalte hain.

Devanshi
2003

Rogue

My magniloquent self
Stands in the middle of a vociferous crowd

I hear the people
Singing accolades for me

I love this fame
I love the idea that people around me
Acknowledge me as an achiever.
The fact that all the kudos
Is unearned and undeserved
Remains inconsequential.

So what if I am grabbing
Someone else’s share of applause
Who would ever come to know?
I am not a scrupulous person like everybody else
And I am sure that the immoral me
Will never have to face any eye.

I see my reflection in the mirror
And feel proud of being what I am.

But

Is my reflection proud of being me?
Why is it giving me that look of disavowal?
Despite all the admiration, all the glory,
Why does my own reflection
Make me feel like a scoundrel?

I scream blue murder
And shatter the glass into a thousand shards

But each shard screams back at me
And tells me
That I’ve cheated the figure in the glass
I’ve cheated my own self.

Devanshi
April 2004

I

I am (apparently) a management student. An ardent poetry lover. A day dreamer.

I like cave houses and dream of living in one someday. I hate wet slippers and getting up early in the morning. I love throwing paper balls on my friends in the middle of a class session. I appreciate things I like. I fantasize about being on cloud nine (literally I mean). I imagine about being the richest person in the world. I forget things, have déjà vu’s, always assume I don't need to note that down because I'll remember it, walk alone in the night, wrist watches, solitude, good cinema. I love having conversations with people I value. I sometimes dream of having a vanity van instead of a house. I love the smell of wet mud. I like articulacy. I like keeping in touch with good people. I miss my school. I don’t know whether God exists or not. I don't like wearing clothes than don't have pockets. I love my sister and think of buying her lots of things. I like lazy Sundays. And badminton. But not on Sunday mornings. I get angry. I like leading. I hate bad language. I am emotional. I get misunderstoodframe perceptions, observe people, get choosy with food, get bored, be insecure. I don’t believe in superstitions. I believe in faith. I love unpredictability. I love life. I love to exist.


Devanshi
July 12, 2009

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Insomniac

In the abyss of darkness
In the monopoly of silence
When the world’s enjoying slumber
I lie awake.

Intruding thoughts
Invading memories
Attempts to get rid of them
And failures.

Isn’t the night darker than the usual?
Is the moon really gazing at me?
I find meaning in the meaningless
And notice the unnoticeable.

I want to dream
Of destinations unexplored
Of peoples and faces

Will the black horse of thoughts
Running in my mind
Excuse me for a while?

The clock tick tocks further
and the horse speeds up
I plan to put it to a stop
I plan to sleep.

But before I can
Another intruder is in.

First rays of sun
all set to welcome me

I say ‘good morning, world’
And the plan of seducing sleep
Is devolved
To yet another night.


Devanshi
May 16, 2007