Six!

Several years ago, I was one of those guys who didn't know how to flirt

I would try of course, and the reactions would invariably be so inert

Xenon, Argon, Neon, Radon and Krypton, even they weren't so curt 

Yet, I persevered, because at least in my head, I was smart and funny

Even as those around me grimaced, every time I said something pun-ny

After all, I did have true friends who could grin and bear it with a smile

Rare creatures those, who have managed to put up with me all this while

Some of them so cheerful, they could make a cloudy day feel quite sunny!   

All those years of practice helped, when I finally had to step up my game

Gone were the hesitation, the shyness, the jokes which were oh-so-lame

One funny, sappy, quirky rhyme and I finally managed to impress the dame!

She still can't believe she fell for that, she still keeps asking herself why... 

Her mind tricked her into accepting, she tells herself a comforting lie

Even after all these years, she doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry!      

Something like magic cannot be explained by logic, only be seen

As she remembers the lunch by the beach, quite a lovely scene 

In just a fortnight since they met, she felt some chemistry so keen

Divine intervention, or destiny, she still wonders what does it mean

Yet, she definitely saw something in him, something she can't quite explain

Even she doesn't know why she said yes, much as she racks her brain!

So she tells herself, better to go with the flow, not search for logic in vain...  

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PS1: It's been six years since my stupid rhyme skills got me the best possible prize. A girl who said yes! It's a day I try to honor, by writing more stupid rhyme!

PS2: As the years go by, I realize that love is not about the grand gestures. It is the little things. Like a blog in memory of the big day. Or at least, that's my sorry excuse for just writing this and not buying something expensive ;)  

Gratitude - Part II

Last year, in the midst of the pandemic, my old college professor had got in touch with me to check if I could sponsor the college fees of some students whose families were facing the brunt of the economic slowdown. I, in turn, reached out to family and friends, and we managed to help about 20 students. I wrote a blog post on the topic. Then, more people reached out on their own after reading the blog, and we ended up funding about 30 students in all. 

It made me realize that, in the midst of all the PJs and stupid rhyme posts I do otherwise, this simple act of penning down that I want to pay it forward can help in widening the reach of the message. I have come to realize that people are usually quite generous and become more so when they see that there is an easy way to help others.

There is a saying that the right hand should not know what the left hand does. That the act of giving should be discreet, and one should not advertise it widely. It is a good concept, and certainly needed in these times of PR where politicians, businesses and NGOs sometimes plaster their names and faces in the name of helping, often spending more to publicize themselves than on the actual aid itself.

But, there is also a case to be made to put out a message that here is an opportunity to help. And often, people do act on it, just because they have come across the opportunity, even if they were not actively looking for it. It's like buying chewing gum at the supermarket check-out line. You don't plan to buy it, but you see it is there, it is small change, and you go "Why not?"

And, I have often had this debate with myself, as to whether publishing this would indicate an exercise in 'blowing one's own trumpet', so to say. And like a true MBA, I ended up doing a half baked cost-benefit analysis and decided that the cost of this could be that a few people think "this guy is just showing off on social media and there are quieter, more dignified means of helping out people". The benefit is that 10 more students get their fees paid, just because people happened to see the message as they were scrolling through their facebook feed. And weighed against that benefit, the cost is miniscule. Or at least, one that I am more than willing to pay.

But, why this? Why not support other stuff - there are poor people who can be fed, handicapped people who can do with a bicycle donation, cancer patients who need help with their hospital bills, trees that can be planted and a multitude of more deserving causes. I have no good answers. Other than to say, it is better to do some good, than to point at all the issues that one can't help with and end up doing nothing. Plus the fact that I am not Bill Gates, and hence don't have billions of dollars to throw at multiple problems. 

Also, there is this minor detail that this specific form of paying it forward has a personal appeal to me. In the sense that I benefited from something like this. And therefore, I get more personal satisfaction from doing this than other forms of help/ contributions. 

Because at the end of it all, once the fancy masks of MBA education, private equity job, and the hubris of nation building through investing in infrastructure are all set aside, the core underneath is a simple guy who happened to stumble into this city, and got quite lucky. Lucky to have parents who valued education. Lucky to have relatives who hosted him. Lucky to have friends who accepted him and made him feel less of an outsider. Lucky to have met the most amazing girl and even luckier to have got married to her.

Because, merit, or the facade of "I studied hard, I got good marks, I work hard at my job, so I deserve success" is a good one to tell myself, to convince myself that there is a direct link between effort and result. To fool myself into believing that the world is not as random as it seems.

But it is a good practice to look into the mirror once in a while. To acknowledge the hard truth. And get a periodic reminder that the 'merit' argument papers over the privilege of never having to go with an empty lunch box to school and pretend to be busy when your friends are having lunch, never having to wear the same shirt every day and get teased for it being dirty when your friends wear sparkling white shirts, never having to struggle with English because it is a language that is alien to your parents, never having to juggle higher education with a part-time job, never having to sleep in class because of a tiring, long commute, never having to decide between eating lunch or dinner since one can afford only one meal a day, never having to drop out of school because you can't afford the fees. All of which I have seen happen to friends over the years.

And this exercise of paying it forward, is a small measure, to ensure that at least a few deserving students, do not have to sacrifice their dreams because they can't afford the college fee. Because dreams are priceless. Especially when they come true.

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PS: If any of you want to contribute, do reach out. If you are already contributing elsewhere, more power to you. 

PS2: If you are going "why is this bugger giving so much gyaan, I come here for the PJs and the stupid rhymes", don't worry. Normal service shall resume soon. This is just a once in a year occurrence.       

Fifteen...

 Last year, I thought I should wrap up this tradition. 14 years was a right number, the end of the 'vanvaas', so to say.

But this blog hardly gets updated, and at least this tradition allows me to step back into this long forgotten space, sweep away the cobwebs, dust it up a bit and take a little walk down nostalgia lane, when life was simpler, I was younger and I could crib here about my single status and sneer at all the lovey-dovey couple posting mushy romantic stuff on their Facebook page.

Little did I know that I would end up being one of 'those' folks. Life has a way of gradually turning you into the very people you mock in your youth.

On that wistful note, let me try my hand at this year's edition...

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As I look back and wonder how long it has been

That I have been whining for more than fifteen

And I realize that kids who were not even born

When I first started, will now be eating popcorn

With their girlfriends in a theatre, waiting for a 'scene'...

And if you think realizing that makes me feel really really old,  

Yes, sometimes my joints creak, even in Mumbai's mild cold,

But the more things change, the more they remain the same,

I remind myself that I may lose but I can still play the game,

Because in life, you call or you raise, but you never ever fold!

And as we complete two whole years of this boring 'stay-at-home' 

The virus wrecks our plans to go visit London, Paris, and Rome

All we can do is reminisce about the mountain lake in Bergen

Or about the translation of that Russian hostel lady and her gun   

Is there a German word for this 'wanting to travel' syndrome?

Because what is love, but the memories we collect together

Of remembering all the silly things I did just to-get-her

It is also about wanting to continue to create newer memories

Like 'pasta without shrimp' and 'breakfasts of only berries'  

Of inside jokes and secrets that make sense only to each other

Love is joking to folks that you have forgotten how to ride a bike

And going on a walking tour, but cribbing about the 10 hour hike

Waking up tired the next day and going for another long, scenic route  

And then wrapping up with a dinner of reindeer and pureed beetroot 

And wondering later which is the veg dish, since they both look alike!

Love is sleeping through dinner time, and having just carrot cake

And also 'birthday special' trips to a hotel overlooking a lake

But love is not just about fancy trips but the daily routine stuff too

It is about how you care for me, and the little things that you do 

Like worrying when I wheeze, and the medicines you insist I take...

  

Some wise old man said the older you become, the wiser you get

Even if you mostly tend to ramble a lot and most things you forget

But nothing beats the feeling of being young, and walking a mile 

Just in the hope of catching your eye, and sharing a silent smile

Even the wise old men would like to rewind the clock, I bet... 

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PS: And like every year, I hope to get away by writing some crappy rhyme in place of a nice shiny gift...