Marathon fever

Running a marathon has always been somewhere on my TO-DO lists.

Needless to say, my secretly guarded list is visible to none.
Sometimes, even I forget where I keep it and what it contains. But I know I am not the only one with this problem. All of us, have some dreams. Some secretive, and some not so much. Some we tell everyone about, and some that we don't. Some that only need us to wish for them, and some that actually need us to do something to achieve them.
It is these effort-requiring dreams that most of us conveniently put in our secret hiding places, and sleep over them. And I guess this was one of my dreams from that category.
I always wanted to run a marathon. But then, I never did take a step in that direction.

It was by chance that our swimming instructor stopped our swimming classes, as he wanted to start the running classes in summers.(Well, that is a different story!!)
And then just for fun, we attended his introductory session for running. There he was , telling us how the goal for the running sessions is the Marine Corps Marathon in October.

We were talking about 26.2 miles here. For someone like me, who last ran probably in 6th standard in school for maybe a 100m, it indeed seemed like a far fetched dream. I would say, it still is.

But then the idea was interesting, and we thought of giving it a shot. Having registered for marathon, and a one miler running session later,  I seem to have become more informed about the "running" world around me.I can see the 26.2 stickers on cars all around, and hope I have one on my car too, someday.

I always noticed people running around with their earphones on, and the ipods securely fastened in their arms. These people are so passionate about running, that you can see them running, any time of the day, and irrespective of the season. Be it freezing temperatures  with snow all around or the scorching heat, you can find them running,  seemingly oblivious to the external conditions. All they seem to care about is running, and that is what they do.

After registering for the run, we seem to be noticing the 'runners' more carefully. There are small things that we are paying more attention to. Details which we never knew existed have become a part of our knowledge bank now.
 It is funny how we ignore so many things in life till there is no option other than knowing them better. Inquisitiveness doesn't seem to exist by choice anymore, it has become more of a by product of have-to, can't-do-anything-else.
I wonder if the world would be a better place if we were all inquisitive by choice, if we were better informed than we are now, if we could see the world around us in a different light.

And about the marathon, well I guess it is too early to make too many comments, but yes, I like more-open-to-the-world-around  side of me!!:)

Tuffy :)

Flashback....
(Me in class XI... trying to study, going to regular school n all....)


One day, I come home from school and dad says,"Go upstairs, I got something for you". I got excited, and had no clue what it was. I went upstairs and saw him there. Black beauty I would say.'
My innumerable persuations and nautankis had paid off , I was finally able to persuade my parents into getting a pup into our house. Pup bhi koi aisa waisa nahi...it was a DOBERMAN :)
 Very cute and naughty, he was like any other pup I guess.But being  the first pet in the family, we all were sooo drooling over him all the time. 
Probably the reason why we hated it when mom would scold him. Not that mom did not love him. She would take him upstairs every night and pat him gently till he fell asleep. :) 


After 3-4 days that he had already been in the house, we were still trying to converge on a single name that all three of us liked( me and my sis and bro ). However, as it turned out, mom had different plans... 


One day while I happened to overhear the one sided conversation between my mom and the dog. My mom was saying, "You know, you will be old,  very old, and still, you will have no  name at all. These people (my children) will still not be able to figure out a name for you. You don't want that, do you? Chalo, from today, you are christened Tuffy" .


When we got to know this, we were like Tuffy???? He's a doberman, not  a pomerian !!!! But my mom had decided that no matter what happends, its gonna be Tuffy.AND SO IT WAS.. Rest all is history..
We had a doberman, by the name tuffy... ferocious, yes a bit, but very sensitive and emotional :)


He was like a small kid... Playing pranks, getting punished, doing it again and the cycle continued...
One day when mom scolded him badly for making a mess of our drawing room, he went out of the door whining... Around an hour passed and we had got busy in our chores. I suddenly remembered that Tuffy was missing.
 I went outside ...and there he was... sitting in the driveway,  with his face down in the opposite direction. I went closer and was shocked.. the poor pup was crying.. He had these huge tears in his eyes :(
Then we had to cajole him to get him out of the depression. :) It did not take him much time to get back to normal though :) But this was the first time I saw an animal actually crying..


I shared a very special bond with him. He was the cutest. Always on my side and always ready to play. When I had to leave my hometown for studies, he got very sad. When I came back home after 6 months for the first time, and I went to meet him, he was soo happy that he had tears in his eyes.. yes.. again :) That was the first time that I saw tears of joy :) Extremely sweet :) 


I have some of the sweetest memories to cherish forever .. all because of him.. :)


Dogs are the coolest and best pets to have. Extremely loyal , loving, caring and super intelligent. For those who have not had an opportunity to have them, I would say, go, have one :) 

What is ROCK? :P

As I am almost midway into a brand-new week yet again, I cannot help but think about the happenings of the weekend that was.


It was last weekend that a get-together at a country-side location was planned with friends. Friday evening came and we headed for the location. The trip was fun with lots of people, lots of food, lots of cokes and sprites, lots of teen patti tutorials by the masters which were followed by actual sessions :) Then a semi- night out and an early morning vada pav and chai --Bliss :)  Then a visit to a temple followed by food, more food and fun with  carrom sessions, plus of course the very very famous DURGA  ki coffee :)

Evening was planned to saved for "Thousand Oaks" or as the guys called it-- The Temple!!!

Well for those who donot know what T-Oaks is, its a kind of a hard-rock cafe with drinks and starters. 

We chose to sit inside. The place has an amazing sound proofing system. Before entering the interiors, you have no clue on how loud the music is in there. Totally rocking with a good surround sound system, the place is a little cramped up I would say. But little do the rock buffs mind that. Drinks, food and music is all that really matters to them I guess. 

It turned out that I was the only girl amongst the six of us who had gone there.Apparently, I was the only reason that the five guys were even allowed inside, being a couple's night. Liberal doses of Thank You's continued to flow from each of them in between the starters and drinks.

After the music started inching towards Floyd and what not, I could almost see the transformation in all the guys there :P With each song that the DJ played, their eyes would close and heads would start banging in the air. One guy  was strumming away the virtual guitar with almost insane intensity. Rest of them singing as loud as they could.

 While I was amidst this hysteria, I could not  help but wonder what the madness and dementia is about. Guys banging their heads, swaying to the music, strumming away imaginary guitars, in a bid to catch the notes, singing out as aloud as possible -- well thats what is my definition of this genre of music --ROCK :) 

Although I have to admit that the hysteria does catch you at some point in time if you sit there for a while.

 But I guess I have miles to go before I become a hard-rock fan and exhibit all the attributes of being one!! :) 

The right job?

What is it that defines the right profession? Is it the liking towards a particular field? Or something you excel at? Or something that you were pushed into by people or by circumstances and you seem to be doing okayish at?
What if therez always a thought at the back of your mind that this is not what you wanted to do? Not now, not ever.
What if you just became of a blind race, not knowing where you were going, Just walking where life paved a path for you...
What if you were a bit too practical for life...not looking at, or maybe not even thinking about possibilities?
Isnt being overtly practical and optimistic also bad? Should you stop and think when life takes you in some direction and think whether you really want to do it?
what if you know your dreams wont get you as much money as your present job does? Isn't it worth a try?
Is money all that matters in the current world? All of us have become so materialistic that all that matters is money. Emotions, likings, dreams and all seem so not to be a part of the the real world.

And when you look around, you find almost everybody seems to be sailing in the same boat. Nobody looks like they like what they do. They do what they do because they have to do that they do. There is no passion involved. Just raw need for money.

People say that you should not make your hobby your profession. Because then you lose all interest in your hobby. It just becomes your work. So does that mean that it is a accepted fact that no matter what, your work cannot give you the kind of joy that your hobby might?

What if you swim against the current and make your hobby your work. People might argue saying that what is it that gives you respite from work then? But my question is, if you absolutely, totally passionately love your work, why would you need a break? Isnt the passion what distinguishes the regular people from those who excel at their works?

Down the memory lane...

So many complications…so many problems… so many issues … things that could and should have been avoided.. that would have made life simpler and better…
Things that would have brought smiles into so many lives… Things that would bring us all together…instead of pushing us apart, one by one, away from each other…forever….

Does life always have to be this complicated… do all those moments we spent together have no meaning at all now? Are they just meant to be there , so far from our reach that we can never get em back? Are they just meant to be sighed on?
Those lovely moments when we were all together… Fighting, laughing, smiling, crying, hogging, cooking, cleaning and sharing our lives with small jokes, being there when anyone wanted, giving and taking hugs, going all the way to their places just to wish them good luck for their exams, only to find them sleeping away to glory, screaming on top of our voices, running after those five rupee orange candies, fighting for the last gulab jamun, going to the terrace to watch the city sleeping, capturing them in the blanket and hitting them, getting drenched in the rains, jumping in the rain puddles, those pillow fights, the studies in the corridor lights, the cramming sessions before the exams, the not so nonviolent and clean holis, the bun butter jam sessions, the chats, the group picnics, the treats with all of us turning up as much behenji-ish as we could, the I don’t care attitudes, the fights in the hostels, entering hostel with balloons in our hands and telling the watchman that we had come from the hospital!, the devilish food sessions when someone was back from home, infinite eating and still not putting up any weight, breaking locks for chocolates in exchange, teasing each other with just about anyone, the bawling sessions when we realized that college was about to end, the birthday bumps, the who can steal the most cake times, the “don’t worry I am there” look, the cribbing about colleges, the crying over not attempting unseen sections in the exams, the running to book depots to get books we realized we din have just a day before the exams, the temple visits after the exams, collecting coins from all pockets to buy tea sometimes, waiting for the phone calls in the hostel and running out at each call to see if it was for us, hostel and college gossips, cribbing about the professors, missing family and home food, those crazy photo sessions, cribbing about the hostel wardens, putting up proxies at the stupid attendance at the hostel, going to the snake park and sitting there, spending our lives together, so much like a family, we were a family…

They say, friends are the families we choose for ourselves, then why is it that we cant hold onto this family the way we do for our birth family…Why cant we NOT let go of these precious relations? Why do they have to be the way they are now…
They are not meant to be thought of and cried,
they are meant to be enjoyed…

Why is life as complicated as it is…why?

When was the last time you did something for the first time???

The last time time that you did something for the first time…
Life happens and things happen. But we just take everything for granted..

Someone said to me the other day that when was the last time that I did something for the first time and I was thrown into a deep valley of thoughts. Thoughts that left me wondering…was there really something at all that I had ever done for the first time.. and this was one the few times that I was forced to think..walk down the memory lane to admire, to appreciate the gift of life, the so many small things that make life really beautiful…

So many things, right from the time I must have taken my first step to the time that I spoke my first comprehendible word…although I was too small then to put such things into my list of “ brightening my day stuff”…but I can for sure imagine the amount of happiness it must have brought into my parents lives….

I have been a very independent girl ever since I moved out of my home to pursue my education in Pune. That was perhaps the start of a new life for me, a life where I could take my own decisions, decide on what was right and wrong…I had the prerogative to decide what I wanted to do , based on my self developed list of ethical behavior. Nobody ever questioned me, but I wanted to have a clear conscience and I can proudly say that I do.

Living in a hostel , you get the true picture of life…A very practical view opens up and you get to see and meet all kinds of people. Right from the high society babes to the middle class girls trying to find a place in the upper strata..from the wannabes to the actually there ones….from the calm and composed to the outspoken ones…Everyone...



Moving back to the topic from where my rendezvous with the past started, the first time…
If I start writing about all my first times, perhaps that would turn out being an autobiography.Not sure if I really want to do that…I am no politician, no actress, no model, no famous painter..just the plain old, well not yet quite old… I am someone who you would find in atleast one of every ten homes in India today…I am a software engineer. :)
So I have had quite a common list of first times for me…

The first campus interview( which I cleared luckily) , the first job, the first few months of bench, moving to bangalore, meeting long lost friends who I had lost touch with over the years ( and I am so grateful to God for making me meet them again ) and who brought happiness and smiles in my life all over again.


The time I cried in public for the first time at the thought of losing my friends and moving to a totally new place. The fear of losing them was what was killing. The new corporate friends I made ,The devilish laughter sessions I shared with my competitor( in laughing) roommates, the first time I identified my huge apetite (for food) with someone who complemented me on that totally.
The time I was duped my a rickshaw-wala the very first day I reached Bangalore.

The first time I realized how guys are so idiotic and desperate sometimes that they just fall for anybody who comes across. The first time I celebrated diwali in Bangalore with an idiot who came ringing our bell to offer sweets in a bid to get introduced to me and my friend as he happened to have a crush on one of us .I still don’t know who it was that he had a crush on.

It was in Bangalore that I realized the importance that my family and friends held in my life. I realized for the first time that although you tend to take these people for granted, they are the ones who count the most.
The first time when I went out to eat alone in a restaurant after many food-less days .The first time I went shopping alone and realized that I really liked doing that. People who say that girls just go out and shop like crazy when they are depressed or angry or upset.. are right. Because that’s what we do. And believe me, it really helps us to pep up. Its like a stress buster.

Back to the line of thoughts I started on, I cant help but smile when I remember the first time I and my friend fell in a public place, on top of each other, with hundreds on people around us watching us ..That helped me get over the embarrassment that surfaced each time I had fallen down previously. Now I am over it :)..I fall, I get up, I smile and off I go…:)

I remember the time I came back to pune and the first time I saw the tears of joy on my friends faces on seeing me. Speaking of tears, I remember the first time I went home during college times and tuffy(My dog) actually cried….that was when I saw tears of joy for the first time.

I remember my first interview after almost three years of work-ex in a company I did not know about and blabbering about a technology that I had really never worked on.

The first time that a subzeewala made fun of my bag :). The first time that I slammed a door on someone. :)
The first time that I realized the importance of people in my life. The first time that I was able to attend a friend’s shaadi.
And then the funny events like the first time I slammed the door of a car when my own finger was stuck in there , the first time I fainted because of the pain. The first time that I sat down to write the last time that I did something for the first time.

Come to think of it, its just a matter of your perspective of things. If you start looking at it the way I am now, its almost everyday that you end up doing something new. What really matters is whether you have the time and attitude to notice and appreciate it.