Shaken and Stirred

  Ever since I learnt how to drive, I have felt how each drive is a microcosm of life itself or at least a slice of it. In this series of short stories, I shall purport to portray the parallels that I perceived. I have noticed several times that when I drive, my speed and aggression on the road closely correlate to my emotional state. This is a story about driving under a great deal of stress. Swati got into her car. She was shaking all over. She had no idea why. To be more exact, she had no idea exactly why. It wasn’t rage. There was no anger, only resolve. To know the truth, one way or another. As her car shot out of the basement parking, she was on autopilot and yet driving faster than she had ever done. “What am I going to get from this?” she asked herself. Perhaps some peace of mind that she was not going crazy. That would be great after all she had been through in the past couple of weeks. Her Red Suzuki Swift was deftly responding to her every move almost before she

Ever since I learnt how to drive, I have felt how each drive is a microcosm of life itself or at least a slice of it. In this series of short stories, I shall purport to portray the parallels that I perceived. Shift into first and gently release the clutch The first part correlates the stop-starts and hiccups in the early part of a relationship to the first time you drive and eventual smooth release of the clutch. “Damn it, I am already late!” thought Akhil looking at his watch. That wasn’t new. He was habitually, and only occasionally fashionably tardy. He was driving his flat-mate Vikram’s Honda City, navigating it through Bengaluru’s traffic. He had an arrangement where he could borrow it at a reasonable rate of Rs.8 per km. This came in handy for getting groceries, or occasionally to go to the office. However, today it was essential. Akhil was going on his first date in a long while.  “God, why did I have to wear this dress?” thought Aarti getting into the car. She had gotten stare

I read this blog post on the turmoil of the twenties. In an eloquent piece, the blogger captures the pangs that one goes through on the threshold of 'true adulthood'. The following is my (unsolicited) response: As a guy on the verge of turning 29, I have gone through the phase you are speaking of. There is no guarantee that I won't go through it again, but it is worthwhile to pen down your thoughts when they seem crystal clear after having gone through a time of muddy swirling nothingness. 1. Disable your facebook account. Humans have survived for hundreds of thousands of years without it. I am sure you can survive the next 20. Alternative is to unsubscribe the 'friends' you speak of. You barely keep in touch with them anyway, just spend precious moments you should be spending thinking of you in thinking and probably cursing them. 2. Decide if you are all about money. You know that already I presume, else there would be no blog entry. 3. Do something. G

Love. It can be fulfilling and frustrating at the same time. Something you wish you had never encountered and yet can't wait till it strikes again. Setting aside all the cliches about the melodrama love entails, it is quite evident that it does not follow the dictum - once bitten twice shy. It is quite possible for a person to hesitate to confess to the quickening of the pulse and the general debilitation of the central nervous system at the mere sight of another after faltering at a similar endeavour earlier. But, that does not imply the absence of all and any falling victim to the vicissitudes of the villainy of the vain heart, which causes pain not just to itself but to the gullible host as well. Love is the phenomenon that thrives in adversity. This fact is well documented. You give it war, inter-religion rivalry, societal mores and it will find a way to thwart the odds. But at an individual's level, it shows this fickle nature by springing its cupid head when you least

I tried the hair saloon once. What I mean by that is that I went to the expensive, air-conditioned Britney-Spears-playing stylists as opposed to my regular round-the-corner barber. This was after I came back from France and my long, flowing European tresses were getting stripped away by the minute in the heat and dust of India. As it had been more than eight months since my previous haircut, I was willing to experiment. Besides, there was the little matter of the 50% off coupons in my possession. I was turned away at first when I reached there since I had not taken an appointment beforehand! Not one to get the hint fate was giving me in the form of the rejection, I scheduled my coiffure at a convenient hour. At the anointed hour, the first thing I noticed in the saloon was that I was the only male customer there. Of course, there was no dearth of spiky-haired, booted-up, covered in body art, men in black stylists that were present. Once in the hot seat, I got the sales pitch about

Till about a month back, the question on everyone's minds was "How do we make the Tests less boring?". Of course, that was until it was revealed that the most fervent followers of the game - the bookies - like Test Cricket the best as they make the most money from it! Well, at least someone does... Test cricket is always termed by most players - former, current and currently suspended - as the pinnacle of cricket, the ultimate test of your abilities on the field. With the exception of Chris Gayle, who was then blasted for such blasphemy. Drawing on my years of playing test cricket, (our own street test cricket version where hitting a six was considered out, to ensure more measured play) I can empathise with that opinion. But, my views as a discerning observer of the more commonly known form of test cricket will be suitable for the purposes of this post. Professional sport, after all, is a microcosm of life itself. Grown men and women try their best to out-do one an