Saturday, October 30, 2010

hail his dream of crucifying India

It’s not mission critical I argued. My prejudice was growing stronger as he, a good friend, made the following claims.

  • They are going to save Rs.340000000000 (stop counting the zeros, its three hundred forty billion or three thousand four hundred crore) for India every year.
  • They turned down an offer of Rs.2000000000 (again, its two billion) which they promised themselves that they would do it for free.
  • Heights of all, the American president referenced their work on one of his speech.

Hearing his gyan was more like a teleshopping bullish ads that promises you a TajMahal as your loo for just nine hundred and nine ninety rupees only.

He said all they are going do is making a piece of software work for each and every government doctors in India, in suggesting medicines. And the catch is that it need not even say what medicine would cure which decease. I thought, then what the damn it got to do with suggesting medicines.

And if you give an extra ounce of analysis on “software in every government hospital in India” would serve as a great joke upon which we can laugh for hours. How many government hospitals have a computer to run the software? Sieving out the politically showcased ultramodern urban government hospitals, most of the rural hospitals don’t even have proper electricity. And not to forget there are thousand plus doctors who trek mountains, boat wild rivers, cart ride miles to make a government hospital made of nothing but them. From where they could afford electricity, computer, internet and then the software comes.

He an overgrown in knowing the myriads of software and information systems, a premature technologist whose door steps is queued with projects and companies to better tune their solutions to keep its heart beat going. His stature made me to take a step back, emptying my mind cup and rationalize his reasoning's.

Hope you would realize that most likely we doze, over an hour or more, after any medication, be it for cold & cough, headache, fever, injury, toothache, back pain, sprain, skin allergy, etc. to name any disease or illness for that matter. We would leave our mouths ajar out of shock if we consider the multiplying effect of the ‘doze over an hour or more’ considering each one among the thousand million Indians, each time falling for either minor or major illness across three sixty five days of a year. The lost productivity because of the ‘doze over an hour or more’ alone costs India three hundred forty billion rupees for every year.

A military doctor explained, “In a war room hospital if a doze for an hour after medication is avoided, we’ll get beds freed sooner for next injured soldier hence avoiding congestion and chaos”. Same is the story with disaster recovery hospitals during flood, earthquake and other disasters. So it is mission critical.

Its found that, when certain enzymes present in different medicines come together causes the doze. The solution is find would a combination of the medicines given, considering their countless versions, dosages and brands, cause the doze or not.

Having found the plot of the criminal, my friend with a team of seven members that includes a professor from IIT is working an solution to weed out the criminal. To impart required response speed, couple of months back they scraped a solution developed for more than five years and started freshly with the lessons learnt and without loosing the hope or any bit of energy. That speaks their commitment. And he says, “We need more passionate people to help us, not necessarily techies or experts”.

The solution includes a software that run on computers and handheld devices that talk to servers through satellites. And believe me this description of the solution is just the tip of the iceberg, there are lot of effort going in for effective use of network and resources, to make it affordable for a country like India. Querying millions of data and to respond a doctor sitting in some remote corner of India in less than six seconds would brief the complexity.

He said that he wants to crucify India where his father was pushed to near death in a village hospital, and resurrect India with better rural health. Let us hail his dream and join hands.

It is Boojapathi I here referred as my friend here. My first two cents Booja ;)

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

its lousy, boy

To every romantic number I listen, unconsciously I started putting her in the song’s female stand. A sharp knock on my head, dispelled the illusion there. When I turned around it was her. She continued saying authoritatively “Not me there” and switching to a convincing tone “My parent’s obvious ‘nope’ would easily overlook if at all it is ‘yup’ of mine. Dear, I’ll tell you better things are in store for you”. She remains me The God Father and the art of perseverance in convincing.

A friend says, “a true lover care for her forever, even if it is not accepted”. I felt mean there that it sounded bullshit to me. All I saw in her was a rare ingredient that would make my recipe delicious and naturally the joy lend would boomerang reckon with interest.

When I realized any number of marches with banners reading ‘marry me dear’ is not going to move her, I decided to lay down the banner. Incidentally a friend who didn’t wanted me to give up, ended writing a beautiful energizing stanza though not able push me back. Happy that I infected one more soul.

Though my business as usual is immune to her ‘no’ logically, Serotonin, biologically called neurotransmitter and literally the commander who carries order from mind to body as muscular contractions, was shouting commands to me like ‘shrink your face more, this doesn’t look sad enough’, ‘why the hell you shave so often’. It took considerable time for me to make Serotonin behave normally, like a teacher who behaves pleasingly after a serious of prankey insults.

One night braking my silence of couple of months, she make my mobile say ‘tring tring’, and we had a casual ‘long time no see’ and ‘gone in air’ chat. The next day with a beep my mobile showed that she had wrote to me, “a boy and a girl were playing hide and seek. She sent a SMS: ‘If you find me you can marry me, if you cannot find me, I’m hidden in the shed’”. Read the message again, with all the context I guess you would infer what I would have inferred.

After three bloody days of her no-reply to all my ‘tring tring’s and beep’s, just before the war in me would have gone crazy using nuke, she says, ‘Come on dude, its a forward’. Serotonin sarcastically laughed at me like a teacher, whom I’d insulted near to grave, get to evaluate my exam.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

where is your underpants ;)

‘married couples should sleep together to give birth to a child’ argued Sanju against mine of ‘tying thali is enough to get child’. By then our class teacher announced “5th B students come form the queue, its getting late for the magic show”

When the magician called for a volunteer for one of the trick we both rushed yet he was lucky. The magician was about to surprise everyone by making Sanju lay a egg which the magician lost in air a moment back. As the magician pulled down Sanju’s trousers for a single instance and in-between he got a egg in his hand, the whole auditorium saw Sanju‘s bum as he didn’t wore underpants.

Except me the whole auditorium was busy laughing, while i was dwelling on the existence of the god as he spared me from Sanju’s embarrassment. ;) yes you guessed it right.

Sashi, a physco who occupies upper cot of our double cot in the school hostel, came running to me and told ‘warden is enquiring who are all not wearing underpants in hostel after Sanju’s incident, you’ll be caught’.

At start of every term, my parents would buy me a new set of things. As the term start, we all will take bath and wash things daily to use newly brought soap, inners, shampoo, powder etc. As the days goes love for new stuffs would worn out, and would be overtaken by laziness. Interval of washing briefs, socks and vests would grow form day, to week, then month, and eventually unwashed for long would turn tough to use and at a point would cease to exist.

The names were called out from the list (non-inners-users) and straight two minutes for a person and a bamboo stick would brake. My heart was pounding and stomach was sicken. In mid Sashi, an known trunk wearer even at the young age of 11, was called from the list and beaten as his claims were ignored similar to others. And guess what god spared me again.

Confused me, as I was stepping into the bed that night found Sashi’s trunk lying beside my pillow which had fallen from my upper cot handle where people in upper cot usually leave their inners to dry. And incidentally (and intellectually ) the list should have been prepared based on drying inners around each one's place. Great escape.

Blog Bonus : Roughly after fifteen years.

Sanju in verge of completing his medical course visited me and was staying in my apartment for a while, which i was sharing with my other friends. Even now he had a peculiar behavior. As soon as he steps into the apartment just with a lungi he gets rid of briefs. Of which he was proud and even defends as “its an form of freedom, a silent fad in my hostel resident of the next generation doctors”

One day I noted that even after tem minutes after stepping into the apartment ‘that behavior’ was missing. When I was about to make fun on him on why he hadn’t removed it, he gagged me saying, “Simple macha only if I'd worn it when I left out I would remove it as I step in”. No more words.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

rush, pour your heart out, queuing it might be fatal

He was telling me “it’s simple dude, go to a mall, look for a innocent girl, ask her to help you with hindi saying you don’t know, then the relation will grow automatically”, this was all a part of fun conversation we had two days back, today he surprised his son, who came back home from kindergarten, by hanging himself. Yes I was trying with my bloody English to say he is no more.

Whenever he says, “Dude, it’s not ‘I do have to’, ‘it’s ‘I have to’”, correcting my English, with patience as if telling it for the first time, though it was the twentieth time he was repeating it, with a fun in his tone to make sure he sound like a friend rather than a language expert or strong-head,  I’ll feel like telling him how grateful I was to him. Which for some reason I’d never labored my tong to pronounce the feel.

Now it is pricking my heart that if I had told him what high esteem I had for him and how good I felt for him, it might have made him feel better at least by  inch extra, stopping him from losing faith on his existence.

I wish he comes before me all in a sudden and laugh at me that he had played the wildest prank, making fun at me on this blog. But on wearing reality hat made of thorn, makes me realize that he will be no more  around that I could tell him that, “Hey senior, just in a month time you had overwritten the relationship tag we had that said ‘teammate’ as ‘friends’”

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

help me chasing her

When Saddam was about to strike Kuwait, he wasn’t dumb  not to realize that it would evoke the whole world against him. Gandhiji knew his family would be spoilt if he throws all his attention to the nation alone. And I too took a similar call when I proposed to her.

Hold on buddy, yup I knew the will those great people had, as they foreseen the positive outcome, was giga folds than mine. Still my stake was as precious as theirs, for me its her friendship.

And as soon as they stepped into their quest, in the nascent stage there ware signs of losing their stake, yet they said to themselves ‘no looking back’… ;-)

As a friend I had ran behind her for some time of her with me. Whenever she was not be able to make it, unlike with other friends where my strong ego would never let me show that I felt upset, strangely I went back to her with a sad face asking her not to let me feel the same way again.

Similar more other such patterns rang a bell in me. It sounded ‘she is your girl’.

The very first thought was, “hey don’t behave like a typical guy”. I sat down thought through it, put all my sense just to make sure not to fool myself around with such thoughts.

At a point in time I realized that I kept ignoring the voice of my heart.

Yet there were handful of human oddities between us those would stand on the way wearing masks such as race, acceptance, etc. My heart simply said, “love for the person” would thrive through then and I just need to feed it with patience and tolerance for pain until then.

When I first messaged my proposal, after a long silence she said ‘no’, but also assured me that this act of mine had not hampered our friendship. She quoted the human oddities as the reason for the ‘no’ and there will also be lot of silence.

The worst part is she had never let me talk on this with her in person. Stealing some phrases of one of my favorite song “Its only words. words are all I’ve to take her heart away”. I’d never got my eyes to talk to her’s.

And I’ve a strong feeling that her silence is not an un-matured way of  saying get lost. After all she is the one who made realize humans are never flawless and beauty of any sustaining relation lies on the tolerance of such flaws.

I would give up on this pursuit, provided she proves me that the thought I’ve is impossible.

I’d had tried and would keep trying all possible things to topple the spinning coin and choose its side ( secretly I’m working to make it fall on my favor ;) ). It might be as stupid as putting myself low.

Its end of story time, now tell me what do you feel. Am I missing something that she signals me to stop these ‘bullshit’, as girls would love to call it. Or if you feel I make some sense, bestow me with your help in chasing her and let me ‘take her heart away’

Friday, July 9, 2010

and she is so special, because…

Is she the first girl in my life? of course not. Hold on, then what’s special about her. So there were girls who touched my heart prior. And she is just another one. Fair argument.

Or is she sounding more in my heart now just because she is the current road I’m passing by, which I would eventually pass by similar to other roads I’d passed as my life pursued.

I sat down, asked myself, ”prove yourself true”.

Thoughts cajoled.

Unlike me who live in world of words and second thoughts, she was full of life in person. And she is one among the very few people who implicitly has a magic to bring life in me as a person.

She was persistent and capable enough to brake the hardcore, with which I encapsulate myself letting me pretend ideal. Such braking needs a great deal of charm, energy and maturity. Even my best friends fails doing so.

Whenever such hardcore brakes, it exposed me and consequently it’s obvious for a person to lower the esteem they have for me. But she persuaded me that the prior thought (on exposure, esteem lowers) was just my assumption, atleast with her. And notably such persuading is as expensive as that of braking the hardcore cited before.

I was slowly getting comfortable in being myself with her. I enjoyed being so.

The best part is, she did all this unknowingly and effortlessly.

In the quarter century I’d lived, hardly with two souls I was truly selfless and it took years with them for me to be such. And my heart says she is worthy enough for such compromise.

And it’s for the first time I’m convinced that my feel for her and her impact on me are so strong, with which I would be able to persuade her that I would be her guy.

If she denies to be ore of my boat it would not drown, conversely if she accepts to be the ore, with a bit of exaggeration, my boat would fly. And all my heart longs to fly.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

letting my heart speak

I’m waiting for her reply. The moment my thumb sanctioned a down stroke on the key in my mobile, that its software rendered as send button, is one of the toughest and joyful moments of my life.

It was tough because the act was potent enough to change the course of my life, might be pleasant or its antonym. And I’d to prepare myself to face either face of the change. It was a costly gamble, I staked a good friendship and presumably the trust of one, among the few best personals I wished (and more than that) to be a part of my life.

It was joyous because I let white pigeons fly in my mind stopping the clash of thoughts, whether to spell my heart to her or not. The clarity in me woke up after a long nap unleashing that, to me a friend is someone who doesn’t stops with accepting me “as what he/she perceives I’m” but goes ahead accepting me “as what I’m actually”.

I don’t need a power glasses to see my thoughts clearly, provided I’m relaxed and shut out from the world of any minor cent of distraction. It usually happens when I’m in bed where I could just see the black of the darkness or in a calm early morning rest room (yup, my poor roommate crib about it always). Splendid ideas of my life had born at either of these place.

It’s there I made a call between the choices I was debating over and over, and decided to speak my heart to her.

Why I choose to text her? I don’t know. Is that the best way to go about it? I didn’t gave thought about it. Straightaway I started composing the message. Every word was carefully chosen just to reflect my thought without any refraction or diffraction. And it took shape like this.

My heart says ‘go for it’. Thinking consequently I may lose a friend. For a moment snapping the thinker in me, {her name} I’m wondering how gr8 it would be to have you as my life partner.

Felt like capturing the ‘joy’ as fresh as it was just after hitting the send button, and so is this writing. Moment worth living.