Mind of the Confounded Man

 "Pick up whatever you feel like and let me sleep!", she said and hung up. I am not much of a drinker and neither is my wife, but at Duty Free shops I have this crazy urge to buy alcohol because I love good deals that help me massage my ego. You would think that as a marketer, used to toying around consumer behavior, I would realize the irrationality of my own habit. Well I don't and this is a perfectly rational behavior in my head. My wife has given up on trying to make me see the absurdity of it but she hasn't given up on her sleep. So when at 3AM, I landed at the Mumbai airport (home to some of the cheapest booze in the world), and took a rational decision of calling my wife to check on what booze I should buy "for her", I soon realized this was a faux pas. While boarding the Uber back home, my mind had already switched to damage control mode: 1.Should I pick up her favorite coffee from Starbucks | At that hour it was suicide 2. Flowers? The only flowers

  My wife and I go for long walks through a silent and serene park to talk and unwind from the day that has been. We have promised not to take our phones on these walks as she especially treasures the peace and calm of the surroundings. Overall it is therapeutic and helps us cope with the times. That day the walk started a bit hurriedly, perhaps a desperate attempt by me to escape one of those bad days at work. In my hurry, I forgot to leave my phone behind so the promise shifted to not using it.  As we strolled through the calming silence of the park, I complained about life and people. My dear wife, who loves me to bits and wouldn't let any emotional harm ever come to me, ran her hand gently through my hair and said, "You know they are wrong" . Felt better. Just then I got a group video call from my parents and sister. Now we are a regular Bengali family whose cacophony would overpower the calm of the surroundings that we were in. I wanted to generally complain about th

  The other day I stared into the mirror looking at my receding hairline and feeling I could have done with some better genes and some better hair maybe? But then I stopped and shut my eyes... One thought led to the other and took me down a rabbit hole of time, back many years, to that barber on my street who used to give me a cut for Rs.11/-. The barber's shop wasn't very big and had room for a tiny bench behind the cutting chair, where his customers patiently waited their turn. Seated on that bench, there were only 2 interesting views to be had: one of the sunlight darting in through the little entry door that spot lit the dance of dust particles in the shop; and the other being the back head of the customer who was getting the haircut. For the customer getting the haircut, however, there was unfortunately not much of an option in terms of views: at best he could stay entertained with the snipping tune of the scissors and the banter of the barber and the bench guys. During on

This one is a tribute to C-303, GG. I write this mail today with a heavy heart. I feel an overwhelming sense of loss even as I vacate C-303, GG Apts. Never before have I felt so dearly for leaving a house which does not even belong to me. But, it does…… it does belong to me in more ways than one. It belongs to me as much as it does to Vaibhav, to Robin and to Manhar. 30th May,2009: My last night in the house and there is nothing that can make me go to sleep. I wonder and I wander. Try to figure out what is it about this house that gets me so attached to it? I lie down. The ceiling fan above me spins on. For a brief moment I close my eyes and let my mind take its own path to search for an answer. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear a continuous lovable banter, some one is laughing, making everyone else laugh, someone is cracking “black jokes” on me… Ah! That is Robin, the life of every party, the soul of every house. The mind wavers again. An unknown hand pushes open the door to anot

To B.E., or not To B.E.: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die to ............k! k! k! lets cut this crap out! Flashback Orientation day: Mind in utter chaos. Linguistic inconveniences. Is it too late? Has the bullet left the barrel? Do time machines exist? Brad Pitt shouts in his indomitable style,"Focus! Focus! Focus!" Am I losing it or is that an overdose of David Fincher? Present Day: "Four years of engineering completed!" You share this with a person in solitary confinement for the last thirty years and he does not even flinch. You share this with your pet pooch and he is bored. You share this with that Angelina Jolie's pic in your restroom and...nah! there are better things to share instead. But you share this with that fellow engineer,not from your college or city or state but from some lousy corner of Bi

P.S.( I am assuming if P.S. is post script then so is it pre script so please bear along) :The title should not be hummed the Mambo No. 5 style but should be read straight. Let Us Pray: I have been looking through my keyboard for the past one hour and have not yet found the symbol OM anywhere.Do let me know its exact location on the keyboard.Anyways.....the prayer: Lord please forgive me for I know no what I do....I never had a chance to ever meet You(Oh my god that's not the prayer that's Encore). Once again... May the Lord make us truly thankful for what we are about to receive .......give us today our holy bread.....and forgive us our trespasses........For thy is the kingdom....the power and glory...forever and ever and ever and ever and Amen! The Mind Talks(Caution!This mind has a mind of its own): I sit at the comp. trying to figure what excuse do i have to be sitting here at 2:30 in the morning.I should rather be tucked away in my bed catching whatever valuable little sl

Yeah yeah...its old news that the monk sold his ferrari. Its older news that this book traces the transition of a lawyer from materialism to spiritualism.However, i would like to know how many people actually believed in that garbled garbage (trust me! I am being very polite) which turned out to be an international bestseller.How many got inspired by it? How many turned towards a spiritually satisfied living? I don't blame the book for being preachy.Rather, I blame it for its apparent shallowness.Here is a lawyer who has returned with a fresh lease of life ingested into his system.He sees the world through the eyes of some distant yogi residing in the Himalayas.The yogi himself is nothing short of a Tamil film hero who can shoot arrows better than William Tell and bathe in water several, and i mean several, degrees lower than room temperature. It is always easier to be the preacher and the teacher.Seriously, the last thing I need is an idealistic monk telling me to finish my daily