If you're a new comer to Laptop Diary, please read the Introduction...
This is a fictionalized diary entry from an army man's journal...
Life was supposed to be an adventure for me. And for the first 25 years of it, I thought I was doing just fine. Until the incident on 26th August, 1988. As newly promoted Group Leader, it was my duty to carry out reconnaissance missions throughout a jungle that basically functioned as an Enemy base.
It all happened so quickly, that I still dont remember most of it. All I know for sure is this. Because of my mistake, three men in my team were taken hostage. For the next 48 days, they were severely tortured. Though they were eventually freed through diplomatic interventions, life never returned to normal. Not for them. And especially not for me.
I quit the Army. I cut contact with my Army buddies. The thought that my actions had caused so much pain for my comrades, I realised, was too hard to bear.
Which was how I ended up working part time in a restaurant.
My job was simple enough. I took care of preparing the drinks. One day, a customer chocked after taking a sip from a cup of tea I'd made. Turned out, I'd put in pepper instead of Cinnamon.
Which made me realise I wasnt even fit to make a cup of tea.
My boss brought the cup back, and bellowed with fury. "You nincompoop!" he cried. "What the hell are you fit for? Cant make a cup of tea without killing somebody? Are you trying to run me out of business..."
Only one phrase caught my mind. Cant make a cup of tea....without killing somebody.
The next day, I sat idly next to the window, ignoring the growing pile of orders for tea. Soon someone noticed the delay, and called the Boss.
"Oy!" He yelled, entering the kitchen. "What's the matter with you? Why the hell arent you making tea?"
Without moving a muscle, I kept staring out of the window. "What's the use?" I asked. "I'll probably screw it up anyway."
Surprisingly, he didnt reply. Instead, swearing loudly, he got someone else to take care of the orders. That night, as we were closing up, he entered the kitchen again.
"Hey kid, what's the matter with you?" He asked angrily. I didnt reply.
"What, you're sad because you screwed up a cup of tea yesterday? Is that it? So what are you planning on doing? Quiting your job altogether? Is that you're bloody brilliant idea? It better not be, sonny, cuz that's a shitty idea. Let me tell you what you'll do. You'll be here at 6 in the morning, and you'll start making tea the moment I ask you to. You'll make sure they taste good. If there's less sugar in one of them, the next time, you'll add more sugar. If the customer says the tea is too strong, you'll make sure you reduce the number of tea bags next time. And you'll keep doing this, day in and day out! You understand me? You'll keep doing this, until you become the bloody best tea maker in this place!"
He stopped for breath, and threw me a spiteful look. As he turned to leave, he remarked, more to himself than me. "Stupid little kid. Quitting cuz of one little cup of tea..."
What he said that night, changed my life.
I rejoined the Army within a month. By 1992, I was a Lieutant. By 1996, I was a Colonel.
Why? Because I realized that life....was just like preparing tea. Every day is like a single cup of tea. Just because you ruined your cup yesterday, doesn't mean you stop. All you have to do is make sure your cup of tea gets better....one day at a time.
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Showing posts with label Top Rated Posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Top Rated Posts. Show all posts
15 October 2009
18 February 2009
Just A Bat And A Ball
My 11th Grade, Final exams are finally over. And since I'm assured of passing with decent marks, there was enough reason to smile. But something my friend said triggered this post.
As we were laughing in the bus, he remarked, "Dude, do you remember how it was for us at the beginning of 11th?"
I did remember. And it brought back a lot of memories...
At the beginning of my 11th, I had reached the end of my 6 year long life at my previous school. That meant I was leaving behind the best school, best group of friends, and above all, a sense of happiness and comfort. And what did I have to look forward to? Nothing. Nothing other than studiying.
People - including my parents, over zealous teachers and pessimistic classmates - kept reminding me about how much I had to study, how serious I had to be in life, and just how useless it would be to go in search of fun and happiness.
So what was I supposed to do? That's when I thought of the "Bat and Ball" story. It's completely fictional, though it can obviously happen for real. Read the story, and hopefully you'll understand what I mean...
An year ago, I had to go to my ancestral home in India, and stay there for an exceptionally long two months. I had nothing to do, except walk around the house and spy on my neighbours. That's when I saw something interesting in the house next door. An NRI family had arrived, among them a kid of about my age. He seemed really frustrated that the house had no television, computer, MP3 player - heck, it didnt even have regular electricity supply.
So I spent two weeks, watching the kid from my first floor bedroom window. He was lying in his room, having nothing to do at all. There were a few dusty books in the room. And two other things. A cricket bat, and a cricket ball.
The kid got so used to the idleness, that he didnt mind it after a while. Finally, he left with his parents, after wasting his two week vacation.
Next up, was another kid, probably a cousin of the first. He reacted in the same way when he came to know that there was no modern entertainment facility around. But this guy, being a bit more sportive, decided to toss the ball around, and hit it. That is, until he broke a vase. That stopped his cricketing exploits. He too was glad to leave three weeks later. Though his vacation was probably boring...
Finally, the third kid arrived. This guy seemed different from the rest. Sure, he did fuss about the same things as the other two, but there was a difference. On the second day of his visit, he picked up the cricket bat, tossed the ball in the air, and a smile formed on his face. He then did something that surprised even me.
He went to the neighbouring houses, and asked if there were any kids of his age, who were interested in playing. They were a bit surprised, and besides, they didnt have any stumps. Didnt matter for the kid. He asked them to meet him in the field behind his house.
Within an hour, about 16 guys, including me, were playing cricket. It was funny, because we used coconut barks for the stumps, and the players were either too small for the bat, or too big. But surprisingly, we played. Till Sunset. And what was more, we decided to play the next day as well. In fact we all played for the next two weeks. It was the best two weeks of my vacation.
I thought about this later. And here's what struck me.
The world around us, is filled with the three type of kids. There are some, who complain about how unlucky they are, and do nothing to change the situation. Then there are some, who try to make the best out of their situation, but loose hope after a while. Finally, there is the third kind. The people who set out to change their situation, so that they end up creating memories, fulfilling dreams...and in simple terms, stay happy.
My friend told me the following, just one week after entering 11th grade.
Sure, sometimes life does seem to be crap. Because, like the three boys in the story, we dont get a computer, television, or even an MP3 player. But you know what? Sometimes in life, all we need to have fun....is a bat and a ball.
As we were laughing in the bus, he remarked, "Dude, do you remember how it was for us at the beginning of 11th?"
I did remember. And it brought back a lot of memories...
At the beginning of my 11th, I had reached the end of my 6 year long life at my previous school. That meant I was leaving behind the best school, best group of friends, and above all, a sense of happiness and comfort. And what did I have to look forward to? Nothing. Nothing other than studiying.
People - including my parents, over zealous teachers and pessimistic classmates - kept reminding me about how much I had to study, how serious I had to be in life, and just how useless it would be to go in search of fun and happiness.
So what was I supposed to do? That's when I thought of the "Bat and Ball" story. It's completely fictional, though it can obviously happen for real. Read the story, and hopefully you'll understand what I mean...
An year ago, I had to go to my ancestral home in India, and stay there for an exceptionally long two months. I had nothing to do, except walk around the house and spy on my neighbours. That's when I saw something interesting in the house next door. An NRI family had arrived, among them a kid of about my age. He seemed really frustrated that the house had no television, computer, MP3 player - heck, it didnt even have regular electricity supply.
So I spent two weeks, watching the kid from my first floor bedroom window. He was lying in his room, having nothing to do at all. There were a few dusty books in the room. And two other things. A cricket bat, and a cricket ball.
The kid got so used to the idleness, that he didnt mind it after a while. Finally, he left with his parents, after wasting his two week vacation.
Next up, was another kid, probably a cousin of the first. He reacted in the same way when he came to know that there was no modern entertainment facility around. But this guy, being a bit more sportive, decided to toss the ball around, and hit it. That is, until he broke a vase. That stopped his cricketing exploits. He too was glad to leave three weeks later. Though his vacation was probably boring...
Finally, the third kid arrived. This guy seemed different from the rest. Sure, he did fuss about the same things as the other two, but there was a difference. On the second day of his visit, he picked up the cricket bat, tossed the ball in the air, and a smile formed on his face. He then did something that surprised even me.
He went to the neighbouring houses, and asked if there were any kids of his age, who were interested in playing. They were a bit surprised, and besides, they didnt have any stumps. Didnt matter for the kid. He asked them to meet him in the field behind his house.
Within an hour, about 16 guys, including me, were playing cricket. It was funny, because we used coconut barks for the stumps, and the players were either too small for the bat, or too big. But surprisingly, we played. Till Sunset. And what was more, we decided to play the next day as well. In fact we all played for the next two weeks. It was the best two weeks of my vacation.
I thought about this later. And here's what struck me.
The world around us, is filled with the three type of kids. There are some, who complain about how unlucky they are, and do nothing to change the situation. Then there are some, who try to make the best out of their situation, but loose hope after a while. Finally, there is the third kind. The people who set out to change their situation, so that they end up creating memories, fulfilling dreams...and in simple terms, stay happy.
My friend told me the following, just one week after entering 11th grade.
"Musthafa, life is so shit. I mean, we're in a school where we've got to study all the times. They dont have any extra curricular activities for us. We cant hang out anymore. Parents are so strict. The teachers are so harsh. No chance to have fun....life sucks!"
Sure, sometimes life does seem to be crap. Because, like the three boys in the story, we dont get a computer, television, or even an MP3 player. But you know what? Sometimes in life, all we need to have fun....is a bat and a ball.
Note:
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The next post will be on Saturday, 21st February.
And yes, please do leave your comments...23 January 2009
Thanks For The Memories
For those of you who hate my philosophical musings, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is, what I'm going to say now is quite philosophical. The good news is....you'll probably like it.
Last Wednesday, my classmates and I went to the Sand Dunes as part of our annual picnic. The details arent necessary, since most you already know everything about it. But there was a catch in this particular picnic.
We werent allowed to bring cameras (the school had its own valid reasons, it seems). Nor were we allowed to bring Mobile Phones (that too, for a reason). In fact, we couldnt bring anything that had a motor or used even one watt of electricity. Not surprisingly, the school had its reasons.
Now the question was this. What on earth were we going to do in a picnic, where we didnt have Ipods and Sony Cameras? What good is it if there arent mobile phones in our pockets?
The pissed off mood amongst me and my friends, almost lead us to drop the idea of going for the picnic. But somehow, everyone decided to go anyways. It would suck, 'to the core', as one of my friends rightly pointed out.
Well, surprisingly, it didnt.
In fact, it was a whole lot of fun? You want to know why?
I wouldnt be able to pin point the reason. All we did, was play football or rugby in the beach side, build sand castles (some pretty good ones, I must add!), and finally, walk up and down the sand dunes. We didnt even get buggies to ride, for god sakes!
So who's responsible for making the trip fun? I think it's the guy who lunged onto me when I was playing Rugby. Or the guy who helped me build a fine sand castle. Perhaps the credit goes to the fellow who pushed me down the sand dunes. Better still, it goes to the guy who helped me chase down the guy who pushed me in the first place. How can I forget the guys (and girls) who sang along to my horrible, musically challenged singing? And what about the sixty odd fellows who stomped their legs and clapped their hands to the tune of 'We Will Rock You!'.
Wait a minute, I just realised what made this trip fun. You. You and Me. We made it fun. Because 'fun', as we teenagers call it, isnt provided by Apple Inc. or Nokia. It's provided by our friends. Sure, it would have helped to have a music player. But singing out of tune was way more fun. A Buggy would have made it easier to climb the Dunes, but I'd never miss the chance to roll down the sand with my buddies.
I could go on now, but time (and patience) is of the essence. If there's one thing 21st January, 2008 taught me, it's this: Life's best moments are the ones that you share with your loved ones. In this case, you guys!
With Love,
Musthafa
P.S.: Thanks for the Memories
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
Last Wednesday, my classmates and I went to the Sand Dunes as part of our annual picnic. The details arent necessary, since most you already know everything about it. But there was a catch in this particular picnic.
We werent allowed to bring cameras (the school had its own valid reasons, it seems). Nor were we allowed to bring Mobile Phones (that too, for a reason). In fact, we couldnt bring anything that had a motor or used even one watt of electricity. Not surprisingly, the school had its reasons.
Now the question was this. What on earth were we going to do in a picnic, where we didnt have Ipods and Sony Cameras? What good is it if there arent mobile phones in our pockets?
The pissed off mood amongst me and my friends, almost lead us to drop the idea of going for the picnic. But somehow, everyone decided to go anyways. It would suck, 'to the core', as one of my friends rightly pointed out.
Well, surprisingly, it didnt.
In fact, it was a whole lot of fun? You want to know why?
I wouldnt be able to pin point the reason. All we did, was play football or rugby in the beach side, build sand castles (some pretty good ones, I must add!), and finally, walk up and down the sand dunes. We didnt even get buggies to ride, for god sakes!
So who's responsible for making the trip fun? I think it's the guy who lunged onto me when I was playing Rugby. Or the guy who helped me build a fine sand castle. Perhaps the credit goes to the fellow who pushed me down the sand dunes. Better still, it goes to the guy who helped me chase down the guy who pushed me in the first place. How can I forget the guys (and girls) who sang along to my horrible, musically challenged singing? And what about the sixty odd fellows who stomped their legs and clapped their hands to the tune of 'We Will Rock You!'.
Wait a minute, I just realised what made this trip fun. You. You and Me. We made it fun. Because 'fun', as we teenagers call it, isnt provided by Apple Inc. or Nokia. It's provided by our friends. Sure, it would have helped to have a music player. But singing out of tune was way more fun. A Buggy would have made it easier to climb the Dunes, but I'd never miss the chance to roll down the sand with my buddies.
I could go on now, but time (and patience) is of the essence. If there's one thing 21st January, 2008 taught me, it's this: Life's best moments are the ones that you share with your loved ones. In this case, you guys!
With Love,
Musthafa
P.S.: Thanks for the Memories
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
10 January 2009
My Family Pack
A few days ago, I called my buddy, only to find out that he was not at home. Over an hour later, I again called, and he pantingly answered the phone.
"Where on earth were you?" I asked, slightly annoyed.
"Dude, I was at the gym. Ghajini has really inspired me to work on my abs. I'm doing Ab Crunches every day..."
I did not know it then, but it was the beginning of a wonderful adventure...
For the next few days, I kept hearing about how good the exercises were. Then something convinced me to try it out for myself. Perhaps it was the little fact that : Abs were the most attractive part of the male body.
"Dude," I finally told him, "what do you think? Should I get an eight pack, or is a six pack enough for now?" I couldnt hear his reply, since he began howling with laughter. Pessimist, I thought. I'd get a six pack for now...
With complete dedication, I set out for my local gym. I approached the Gym Instructor, and told him, "I would like to develop abs." It was like asking for a bottle of strawberry milk at a department store.
The Gym Instructor observed me from top to bottom, and his lips twitched slightly. I think they teach the Instructors to remain polite.
He took me to a bench, which was slightly curved in shape, and had a bar at one end. I was supposed to lie down on the bench, with my ankles below the bar. Then, just as he illustrated to me, I was supposed to lift my upper body, till I could touch my uplifted knees. I hope you understood.
After saying a small prayer, I lay down on the bench, and was about to start my 6 pack ab campaign, when the Instructor told. "Three sets, okay?"
"Sure," I said, with a smile.
Now, have you heard a pig grunt? Seriously, have you? If you have, then you'll be able to understand the kind of sounds I produced when I did the exercise. I know for certain that they were unbearable, since an old man who was walking on a treadmill, increased the volume of the television.
After I was done, I lay down triumphantly on the bench, my till now undisturbed tummy, completely exercised. "I'm done coach!" I said.
The Instructor's lips twitched again. In fact, he placed his finger in his mouth, and bit hard so as not to laugh. "No, no," he said, almost choking, "you did three repetitions. Ten repetitions make one set. Like that, you should do three sets."
The next day, when my buddy called, I was busy devouring a KFC bucket.
"So dude, how's your exercising routine going?" he asked, panting as usual.
"Err...actually, I'm stopped for now." I said.
"Really? But then, what about you're six packs?"
I paused, thinking of my reply. My eyes caught the label on the KFC bucket.
"For now, I'm happy with my Family Pack..."
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
"Where on earth were you?" I asked, slightly annoyed.
"Dude, I was at the gym. Ghajini has really inspired me to work on my abs. I'm doing Ab Crunches every day..."
I did not know it then, but it was the beginning of a wonderful adventure...
For the next few days, I kept hearing about how good the exercises were. Then something convinced me to try it out for myself. Perhaps it was the little fact that : Abs were the most attractive part of the male body.
"Dude," I finally told him, "what do you think? Should I get an eight pack, or is a six pack enough for now?" I couldnt hear his reply, since he began howling with laughter. Pessimist, I thought. I'd get a six pack for now...
With complete dedication, I set out for my local gym. I approached the Gym Instructor, and told him, "I would like to develop abs." It was like asking for a bottle of strawberry milk at a department store.
The Gym Instructor observed me from top to bottom, and his lips twitched slightly. I think they teach the Instructors to remain polite.
He took me to a bench, which was slightly curved in shape, and had a bar at one end. I was supposed to lie down on the bench, with my ankles below the bar. Then, just as he illustrated to me, I was supposed to lift my upper body, till I could touch my uplifted knees. I hope you understood.
After saying a small prayer, I lay down on the bench, and was about to start my 6 pack ab campaign, when the Instructor told. "Three sets, okay?"
"Sure," I said, with a smile.
Now, have you heard a pig grunt? Seriously, have you? If you have, then you'll be able to understand the kind of sounds I produced when I did the exercise. I know for certain that they were unbearable, since an old man who was walking on a treadmill, increased the volume of the television.
After I was done, I lay down triumphantly on the bench, my till now undisturbed tummy, completely exercised. "I'm done coach!" I said.
The Instructor's lips twitched again. In fact, he placed his finger in his mouth, and bit hard so as not to laugh. "No, no," he said, almost choking, "you did three repetitions. Ten repetitions make one set. Like that, you should do three sets."
The next day, when my buddy called, I was busy devouring a KFC bucket.
"So dude, how's your exercising routine going?" he asked, panting as usual.
"Err...actually, I'm stopped for now." I said.
"Really? But then, what about you're six packs?"
I paused, thinking of my reply. My eyes caught the label on the KFC bucket.
"For now, I'm happy with my Family Pack..."
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
13 December 2008
Searching For The Best Moments In Life
I was going through the blogosphere (meaning random blogs on the net), when I stumbled upon a blog by Mr. Hemant Kumar. I dont know him at all, but I took the liberty of reprinting a post which he put up on his blog. Dont think I'm plagarising anything. Just wanted you to take a look at this.
It's a list of the Best Moments in Life. And the best thing about it, is that it isnt complete. I need your help in completing it. Take a look at the list, and choose 2 - 6 of the Moments you like the best. And then, try to add your own. After a week or two, if there are enough entries, I'll edit the list and publish it again. Besides, I'll even give you credit for the Moments you've suggested to the list.
Besides, in order to make this blog more interesting, it would be good if you could leave your comments and thoughts. I dont mind even if they're anonymous, just as long as they're good and thought provoking...
One more thing...the Moments which are highlighted in black are my personal favourites!
"Life is not a problem to be solved, but a gift to be enjoyed"
"A true friend is someone who reaches your hand and touches your heart..."
By Hemant Kumar,
http://thoughtsinspirational.blogspot.com
It's a list of the Best Moments in Life. And the best thing about it, is that it isnt complete. I need your help in completing it. Take a look at the list, and choose 2 - 6 of the Moments you like the best. And then, try to add your own. After a week or two, if there are enough entries, I'll edit the list and publish it again. Besides, I'll even give you credit for the Moments you've suggested to the list.
Besides, in order to make this blog more interesting, it would be good if you could leave your comments and thoughts. I dont mind even if they're anonymous, just as long as they're good and thought provoking...
One more thing...the Moments which are highlighted in black are my personal favourites!
Some of the Best moments in life
- To fall in love.
- To laugh until it hurts your stomach.
- To find mails by the thousands when you return from a vacation.
- To go for a vacation to some pretty place.
- To listen to your favorite song in the radio.
- To go to bed and to listen while it rains outside.
- To leave the! Shower and find that the towel is warm.
- To clear your last exam.
- To receive a call from someone, you don't see a lot, but you want to.
- To find money in a pant that you haven't used since last year .
- To laugh at yourself looking at mirror, making faces. :)))
- Calls at midnight that last for hours. :))
- To laugh without a reason.
- To accidentally hear somebody say something good about you.
- To wake up and realize it is still possible to sleep for a couple of hours.
- To hear a song that makes you remember a special person.
- To be part of a team.
- To watch the sunset from the hill top.
- To make new friends.
- To feel butterflies In the stomach every time that you see that person.
- To pass time with your best friends.
- To see people that you like, feeling happy.
- To use a sweater of the person that you like and find that it still smells of their perfume.
- See an old friend again and to feel that the things have not changed.
- To take an evening walk along the beach.
- To have somebody tell you that he/she loves you.
- To laugh .......laugh........and laugh ...... remembering stupid things done with stupid friends.
"Life is not a problem to be solved, but a gift to be enjoyed"
"A true friend is someone who reaches your hand and touches your heart..."
By Hemant Kumar,
http://thoughtsinspirational.blogspot.com
10 December 2008
Me And My Decisions....
I have a story to tell,
One that you should listen,
It's not about a boy and a girl,
It's about me and my decisions.
I was once like you,
With absolutely nothing to do,
Except carry a schoolbag on my shoulder,
And a cap on my head.
Time changes quickly,
Years pass by in a second,
I went from being the topper in Grade One,
To the drop out in Grade Ten.
I had no home,
Only a house to live in.
A place where parents would curse me,
And wonder why I wasnt studiying.
Life seemed hard,
My world seemed cruel,
So what better thing to do,
Than to end it, once and for all?
Now I wonder what it was,
That made me jump,
Poor grades, shouting parents,
Or just myself?
Because now, when I think about it,
Life wasnt so bad,
All I had to do was study,
And never make my parents sad.
Instead here I am,
Staring at the ceiling,
Wondering how life would be,
If I hadnt been complaining.
I wish I can stop you,
From doing what I did,
But how can I, when I'm paralysed.
From the toes till my hip.
I jumped from the top,
Of a five storey building,
I hit the ground,
But my heart kept beating.
They rushed me to the hospital,
Attempted suicide, the nurse said.
The doctor looked at me sadly,
He knew my fate even before I did.
I saw my mother,
Weeping profusely,
My father was stronger,
He tried to save me.
But not even the best of doctors,
or the strongest of medicines,
Could undo my mistakes,
And make me walk once again.
So for the rest of my life now,
I'll meet more people like you,
And to them I'll say,
What I've just told you.
I have a story to tell,
One that you should listen,
Its not about a boy or a girl,
It's about me and my decisions...
One that you should listen,
It's not about a boy and a girl,
It's about me and my decisions.
I was once like you,
With absolutely nothing to do,
Except carry a schoolbag on my shoulder,
And a cap on my head.
Time changes quickly,
Years pass by in a second,
I went from being the topper in Grade One,
To the drop out in Grade Ten.
I had no home,
Only a house to live in.
A place where parents would curse me,
And wonder why I wasnt studiying.
Life seemed hard,
My world seemed cruel,
So what better thing to do,
Than to end it, once and for all?
Now I wonder what it was,
That made me jump,
Poor grades, shouting parents,
Or just myself?
Because now, when I think about it,
Life wasnt so bad,
All I had to do was study,
And never make my parents sad.
Instead here I am,
Staring at the ceiling,
Wondering how life would be,
If I hadnt been complaining.
I wish I can stop you,
From doing what I did,
But how can I, when I'm paralysed.
From the toes till my hip.
I jumped from the top,
Of a five storey building,
I hit the ground,
But my heart kept beating.
They rushed me to the hospital,
Attempted suicide, the nurse said.
The doctor looked at me sadly,
He knew my fate even before I did.
I saw my mother,
Weeping profusely,
My father was stronger,
He tried to save me.
But not even the best of doctors,
or the strongest of medicines,
Could undo my mistakes,
And make me walk once again.
So for the rest of my life now,
I'll meet more people like you,
And to them I'll say,
What I've just told you.
I have a story to tell,
One that you should listen,
Its not about a boy or a girl,
It's about me and my decisions...
29 November 2008
Think of Ajay...
Perhaps it's because of the recent attacks on Mumbai, or perhaps it's because I havent been feeling especially humourous lately. What ever the reason, I've decided to ask you, and myself, a relatively tough question. What would you do, if you were in the position of Ajay?
Read this partly fictionalised story, inspired from a true event in Mumbai...
Now here's my question, the answer to which, even I am not sure of. What would you do if you were in Ajay's position? Wouldnt you also want to talk to all your loved ones? Wouldnt you want to tell them just excatly what they mean to you? Sure you would. Well, what if you are going to be in Ajay's position? What if you wont get the small relief which Ajay got?
None of us can say when we'll bid farewell to this world. Maybe two months from now, maybe tomorrow. And if that happens, wouldnt you want to tell your loved ones how much they mean to you?
Stop reading this blog. You dont even have to comment, if you dont want to. But let your family, and your friends, know what they mean to you. Or else, it might be too late...
Think of Ajay....
Click here to receive the latest posts in your inbox...
Read this partly fictionalised story, inspired from a true event in Mumbai...
An 18 year old named Ajay, who was staying in the Taj Hotel in Mumbai, witnessed the hostage attempt. Knowing that he didnt have much time left, he hid himself in his hotel room, and called his parents. Taking all the time he could, he talked to every one of his family members. He wasnt sure he would live to see another day. And sadly, he didnt. After the phone conversation, his family members never heard from Ajay again.
Now here's my question, the answer to which, even I am not sure of. What would you do if you were in Ajay's position? Wouldnt you also want to talk to all your loved ones? Wouldnt you want to tell them just excatly what they mean to you? Sure you would. Well, what if you are going to be in Ajay's position? What if you wont get the small relief which Ajay got?
None of us can say when we'll bid farewell to this world. Maybe two months from now, maybe tomorrow. And if that happens, wouldnt you want to tell your loved ones how much they mean to you?
Stop reading this blog. You dont even have to comment, if you dont want to. But let your family, and your friends, know what they mean to you. Or else, it might be too late...
Think of Ajay....
Click here to receive the latest posts in your inbox...
21 November 2008
Julius Caesar 1.5
Recently, I had a leg injury, which forced me to wear a plaster case (made out of fiber-glass, mind you!), everywhere I went.
As if this wasnt enough, I was also cast as Julius Caesar in the play..."Julius Caesar".
No, they didnt choose a limp to play the role intentionally. Which was why the Drama Teacher was visibly alarmed when he saw me limp into the practise hall, prepared with my dialogue.
"How long will it take for the plaster case to be removed?" He asked.
I told him excatly what my Doctor told me. "More than a week before the play is to be staged sir. There wont be a problem..."
Which set me thinking. What if there is a problem. What if I have to act, with the plaster case, and the fabulous limp? Well, then the play would have a few alterations, such as...
(Cassius, the main Conspirator, who wants to assasinate Julius Caesar, is worried since Julius Caesar hasnt arrived at the Senate...)
Cassius: Where on earth is Caesar. He's twenty minutes late!
Brutus: For god sakes Cassius, dont be such a jerk. He's got a limp. I heard they're carrying him here on a Stretcher.
Cassius: Oh God! On a stretcher? How on earth are we going to assasinate him --
(Julius Caesar enters, in a stretcher, carried by four of his friends. They look really pissed off. They werent told they would have to carry the guy they're going to kill)
The thirteen Senators: All hail Caesar!
Caesar: (in a really bad mood because of his leg) Ya ya whatever. Cinna, Casca, massage my feet would you. God, it's still paining so badly!
(Casca and Cinna hide their daggers, look irritatedly at Cassius. Cassius shrugs his shoulders and signals them to do as they're told...)
Metillus: (kneeling down, ready to stab Caesar) O Caesar --
Caesar: Just a minute Metillus. If you dont mind, could you pass me that glass of wine?
Metillus: (looking stunned) Err-- ofcourse. Why not...(he leans across and gets the glass of wine for Caesar)
Cassius: (getting increasingly irritated by the failure of his plan) CAESAR! I REQUEST YOU TO FREE PUBLIUS CIMBER!
Caesar: (enraged and surprised) What! (He jumps up from the stretcher, and glares at Cassius)
Casca: (taking the signal from Cassius) Now my hands will speak for -- (He moves forward and accidently steps on Caesar's leg)
(Caesar roars out in pain, and begins to hop on one leg. The Conspirators are baffled. They watch him hop around. Finally, Caesar's head hits the lamp holder, he tumbles down to the statue of Pompey, and lies still.)
(There is complete silence for a moment.)
(Every one looks towards Cassius.)
Cassius: Crap man! What the hell do we do now?
Brutus: He's dead right? That's what we wanted....so....
Casca and Cinna: (very vaguely, confused and unsure) Liberty? Freedom? Err....Tyranny is over?
Cassius: (still shocked) Hmm....listen. Some of you, you know, go to the pulpit and tell them...
Metillus: Tell them what?
(Complete silence. No one has an answer...)
The END.
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
As if this wasnt enough, I was also cast as Julius Caesar in the play..."Julius Caesar".
No, they didnt choose a limp to play the role intentionally. Which was why the Drama Teacher was visibly alarmed when he saw me limp into the practise hall, prepared with my dialogue.
"How long will it take for the plaster case to be removed?" He asked.
I told him excatly what my Doctor told me. "More than a week before the play is to be staged sir. There wont be a problem..."
Which set me thinking. What if there is a problem. What if I have to act, with the plaster case, and the fabulous limp? Well, then the play would have a few alterations, such as...
(Cassius, the main Conspirator, who wants to assasinate Julius Caesar, is worried since Julius Caesar hasnt arrived at the Senate...)
Cassius: Where on earth is Caesar. He's twenty minutes late!
Brutus: For god sakes Cassius, dont be such a jerk. He's got a limp. I heard they're carrying him here on a Stretcher.
Cassius: Oh God! On a stretcher? How on earth are we going to assasinate him --
(Julius Caesar enters, in a stretcher, carried by four of his friends. They look really pissed off. They werent told they would have to carry the guy they're going to kill)
The thirteen Senators: All hail Caesar!
Caesar: (in a really bad mood because of his leg) Ya ya whatever. Cinna, Casca, massage my feet would you. God, it's still paining so badly!
(Casca and Cinna hide their daggers, look irritatedly at Cassius. Cassius shrugs his shoulders and signals them to do as they're told...)
Metillus: (kneeling down, ready to stab Caesar) O Caesar --
Caesar: Just a minute Metillus. If you dont mind, could you pass me that glass of wine?
Metillus: (looking stunned) Err-- ofcourse. Why not...(he leans across and gets the glass of wine for Caesar)
Cassius: (getting increasingly irritated by the failure of his plan) CAESAR! I REQUEST YOU TO FREE PUBLIUS CIMBER!
Caesar: (enraged and surprised) What! (He jumps up from the stretcher, and glares at Cassius)
Casca: (taking the signal from Cassius) Now my hands will speak for -- (He moves forward and accidently steps on Caesar's leg)
(Caesar roars out in pain, and begins to hop on one leg. The Conspirators are baffled. They watch him hop around. Finally, Caesar's head hits the lamp holder, he tumbles down to the statue of Pompey, and lies still.)
(There is complete silence for a moment.)
(Every one looks towards Cassius.)
Cassius: Crap man! What the hell do we do now?
Brutus: He's dead right? That's what we wanted....so....
Casca and Cinna: (very vaguely, confused and unsure) Liberty? Freedom? Err....Tyranny is over?
Cassius: (still shocked) Hmm....listen. Some of you, you know, go to the pulpit and tell them...
Metillus: Tell them what?
(Complete silence. No one has an answer...)
The END.
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
22 August 2008
How I Got My Dimples
When I grow up, if I turn into a public speaker, I swear to God I will tell this story in front of every audience (and probably get a standing ovation for that as well!). What is the story? It's about how I got my dimples. One clue. I didnt have them on my 4th birthday. I had two of them on my 5th. Intrigued?
Let's go to the story, shall we? First the scene. It's a bathroom (hold on, you perverts. The bathroom door is open...). My Mother is bathing me (dont expect to tease me with this. Your Mom must've bathed you too when you were 5 years old.)
To fully understand what happens next, you should know the following:
- I had come home from Kindergarden. I was sweating and thus needed a bath.
- My Mother was using a soap to bath me (like duh!).
- The Tub had a kind of dumpy elevation in the front part (those who really are into this story, take a break and check out your bathtub. My guess is, it will have those same elevated bumpy stuff too.)
Guess what happened then. It turns out there is an impression on my left as well as right cheeks (the impact was that great..) By an impression, I mean, like how the moon has a lot of impressions on it. In other words....er.....holes. Alright, I'm not crazy, but the truth is, there were deep, hole like thingys on both my cheeks.
What my worried Mother and not so worried Father does, is go to a few doctors and get me some oinments. The Docs all said that the deep, hole like impressions would slowly heal. Well, atleast I have that as proof. The next time you see me, watch closely. My left cheek has a dimple. My right cheek apparently doesnt.
Normally, things arent like that my friend....
So all I'm saying is.....Would you like some Dimples?
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
21 August 2008
The Mallu Who Lived
I'm going to talk about the day that I almost died....
(All you cynical readers out there, dont rejoice yet. I said almost. But not quite. I'm still alive and kicking...)
The day was a long time ago. Back then, I was a 5 or 4 year old kid, enjoying my time in India. When the action starts, I'm in the front porch of my house, jumping around, making odd noises, and you know, playing with my lips (that was my way of enjoying.) Just then, my Mom got hold of me, and gave me some cough syrus (for my cough, obviously.) She saw that I had some peanuts in my mouth, but didnt bother about it. I didnt either. I just continued jumping around and making noises. Little did I know that those peanuts would kill me....almost.
Two days later, we all went to the doctor, (well I didnt want to go. I wanted to play with my lips and make odd noises...but who listens to me anyway!). My Mom just mentioned to the Doc that I had some peanuts in my mouth when she was giving me my cough syrup. The Doc (being one of the few good ones in India at that time) told that we should check it out immediately. I wasnt so enthusiastic about any of it, but before I could voice my opinion, they stuck a needle into me and gave me anesthetics. I dont remember anything after that.
Turns out, something bad happened. Now listen carefully, since this is the technical part of the story. It seems that after having the cough syrup, the peanuts got quite confused about which pipe to go down, and went through the wind pipe instead (I know, such retarded nuts!). What happened then, was that the peanuts ended up in my lungs. Not the ideal place for digestion, you'll agree.
The Doc was frantic about it all (I was unconsious...). He said that if the peanuts moved a bit more down my lungs, it would block the alveoli or something. I would just end up on the table, chocked to death, though it would be peaceful (since I was unconsious...)
My Mom got ready for her part of the role, and quickly began crying. My Dad did what he was supposed to, and began pacing around the rooom. The Doc, who thankfully knew what he had to do, ordered a Bronchoscopy.
Now most of you dont know what that is. It's this cool procedure, where they send a tube down your lungs. Obviously they all wanted the peanuts out of my lungs.
My extended family and relatives all sat at home and began praying for me. My Mom turned up a gear and more tears started flowing. My Dad....well he was a bit tired from all the pacing around. He took a bit of rest.
To cut a long story short, they took the bloody retarded peanuts out of my lungs, threw them away, and I was woken up. I couldnt understand why everyone started hugging me after that. Years later, my Mom told me this fantastic story.
I read Harry Potter, and thought, 'He just survived a killing curse. I survived a handful of peanuts trying to choke me to death. I'm way cooler.'
That's why I say....I'm the "Mallu Who Lived..."
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
(All you cynical readers out there, dont rejoice yet. I said almost. But not quite. I'm still alive and kicking...)
The day was a long time ago. Back then, I was a 5 or 4 year old kid, enjoying my time in India. When the action starts, I'm in the front porch of my house, jumping around, making odd noises, and you know, playing with my lips (that was my way of enjoying.) Just then, my Mom got hold of me, and gave me some cough syrus (for my cough, obviously.) She saw that I had some peanuts in my mouth, but didnt bother about it. I didnt either. I just continued jumping around and making noises. Little did I know that those peanuts would kill me....almost.
Two days later, we all went to the doctor, (well I didnt want to go. I wanted to play with my lips and make odd noises...but who listens to me anyway!). My Mom just mentioned to the Doc that I had some peanuts in my mouth when she was giving me my cough syrup. The Doc (being one of the few good ones in India at that time) told that we should check it out immediately. I wasnt so enthusiastic about any of it, but before I could voice my opinion, they stuck a needle into me and gave me anesthetics. I dont remember anything after that.
Turns out, something bad happened. Now listen carefully, since this is the technical part of the story. It seems that after having the cough syrup, the peanuts got quite confused about which pipe to go down, and went through the wind pipe instead (I know, such retarded nuts!). What happened then, was that the peanuts ended up in my lungs. Not the ideal place for digestion, you'll agree.
The Doc was frantic about it all (I was unconsious...). He said that if the peanuts moved a bit more down my lungs, it would block the alveoli or something. I would just end up on the table, chocked to death, though it would be peaceful (since I was unconsious...)
My Mom got ready for her part of the role, and quickly began crying. My Dad did what he was supposed to, and began pacing around the rooom. The Doc, who thankfully knew what he had to do, ordered a Bronchoscopy.
Now most of you dont know what that is. It's this cool procedure, where they send a tube down your lungs. Obviously they all wanted the peanuts out of my lungs.
My extended family and relatives all sat at home and began praying for me. My Mom turned up a gear and more tears started flowing. My Dad....well he was a bit tired from all the pacing around. He took a bit of rest.
To cut a long story short, they took the bloody retarded peanuts out of my lungs, threw them away, and I was woken up. I couldnt understand why everyone started hugging me after that. Years later, my Mom told me this fantastic story.
I read Harry Potter, and thought, 'He just survived a killing curse. I survived a handful of peanuts trying to choke me to death. I'm way cooler.'
That's why I say....I'm the "Mallu Who Lived..."
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
18 August 2008
Once Upon A Time....When I Was Cute
Now don't laugh at the title. It's true. Once upon a time, I was cute. But I've grown older, more rugged now. Too much time in the sun, too much time in the kitchen....all have made me loose my cuteness.
I wouldn't have complained about it, if it wasn't for an annoying picture. The picture of my 5 year old self.
You see, a few months back, I decided to put this ridiculously 'angel' like picture as my MSN Display Picture. The reason? I couldn't find any present day picture of mine that was socially acceptable. The problem is, I think I've become jealous...of my five year old self. It's true. And there's a reason too.
Every guy who chatted with me, asked me who the kid in the pic was. I said its me. What do I get in return? :-O. Or :P. Now that's insulting!
What's more, the girls who chatted with me, immediately asked, "Whose picture is that?". I replied, (blushing - though I was sitting in front of a laptop) "Err...that's my picture. When I was 5 years old."
"Oh cho chweeet!" they all say. (I don't know why, but apparently 'Cho Chweet' is better than 'So Sweet').
"Thank you. The picture looks cute right....just like how I look right now?" I added, feeling a bit pleased with myself. Strangely, they all quickly went off line after that. I wonder why....
So late at night, or early in the morning, I stand in front of my mirror, looking at the picture of my 5 year old self propped up in front of me, and think to myself, "Ah...the good old days...when I was cute."
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
You see, a few months back, I decided to put this ridiculously 'angel' like picture as my MSN Display Picture. The reason? I couldn't find any present day picture of mine that was socially acceptable. The problem is, I think I've become jealous...of my five year old self. It's true. And there's a reason too.
Every guy who chatted with me, asked me who the kid in the pic was. I said its me. What do I get in return? :-O. Or :P. Now that's insulting!
What's more, the girls who chatted with me, immediately asked, "Whose picture is that?". I replied, (blushing - though I was sitting in front of a laptop) "Err...that's my picture. When I was 5 years old."
"Oh cho chweeet!" they all say. (I don't know why, but apparently 'Cho Chweet' is better than 'So Sweet').
"Thank you. The picture looks cute right....just like how I look right now?" I added, feeling a bit pleased with myself. Strangely, they all quickly went off line after that. I wonder why....
So late at night, or early in the morning, I stand in front of my mirror, looking at the picture of my 5 year old self propped up in front of me, and think to myself, "Ah...the good old days...when I was cute."
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
What's Wrong With My Hello?
What's wrong with my Hello?
Yup, I'd like to know that, thank you. At first I thought it was just some kind of a joke going around. But now I'm seriously taking up this issue.
For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, here's the details.
Like any active teenager, I receive phone calls from my friends. While attending those phone calls, I - as per 21st century protocol - start by saying, "Hello."
And the smart mouth at the other end, starts his conversation by saying, "Ha! What kind of a Hello is that? Ha-lo? Don't you even know how to say Hello properly?"
I don't suffer from extremely low inferiority complex. But when a few guys, over the course of a few months, tell me the same thing, I start to feel bad about my "Hello".
So like any normal teenager trying to fit into society, I decide to improve on my hello...
"What's wrong with it?" I ask with concern. My friend likes the sudden authority he has. "Well, you sound as though you just came running to get the phone."
The next time the phone rang, I was at my study table. Getting up slowly, I hummed a tune, and slowly walked along the corridor. My mother started screaming at me to get the phone. Still breathing calmly, I neared the phone, took a short breath, and picked the receiver. The line was dead. Apparently I took a little more time than allowed.
My mother was furious at me. "Why on earth cant you pick the phone up quickly?" she asked.
I nodded my head. "You wont understand, mother. You wont understand."
This happened for about four times. Finally, I did dash to get the phone. Gasping for breath, I said, "Hello?"
It was the same smart mouth who hurt my self - esteem. "What's wrong with you?" He asked. "I've been trying to call so long, and no one's picking the phone?"
I mumbled some excuse for that. "Anyways, leave that," he said. "Man, you're 'Hello' is so crap! Ha-lo? Ha ha..."
I tried a different style from then onwards. "Good Morning" was kinda good, until my friends started thinking they'd dialled the wrong number.
"Hi" was nice for some time, but somehow it never caught on. Finally, in an act of desperation, I picked the receiver once and said, "Yo!"
It was my biology teacher. After asking whether she had dialled the correct number, she wanted to speak to my mother. About ten minutes later, my mother came up to me, looking annoyed. "I just talked to your teacher now," she said. "Son, what's wrong with your hello?"
From then onwards, I seldom attend the phone....
Over and Out.
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
Yup, I'd like to know that, thank you. At first I thought it was just some kind of a joke going around. But now I'm seriously taking up this issue.
For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, here's the details.
Like any active teenager, I receive phone calls from my friends. While attending those phone calls, I - as per 21st century protocol - start by saying, "Hello."
And the smart mouth at the other end, starts his conversation by saying, "Ha! What kind of a Hello is that? Ha-lo? Don't you even know how to say Hello properly?"
I don't suffer from extremely low inferiority complex. But when a few guys, over the course of a few months, tell me the same thing, I start to feel bad about my "Hello".
So like any normal teenager trying to fit into society, I decide to improve on my hello...
"What's wrong with it?" I ask with concern. My friend likes the sudden authority he has. "Well, you sound as though you just came running to get the phone."
The next time the phone rang, I was at my study table. Getting up slowly, I hummed a tune, and slowly walked along the corridor. My mother started screaming at me to get the phone. Still breathing calmly, I neared the phone, took a short breath, and picked the receiver. The line was dead. Apparently I took a little more time than allowed.
My mother was furious at me. "Why on earth cant you pick the phone up quickly?" she asked.
I nodded my head. "You wont understand, mother. You wont understand."
This happened for about four times. Finally, I did dash to get the phone. Gasping for breath, I said, "Hello?"
It was the same smart mouth who hurt my self - esteem. "What's wrong with you?" He asked. "I've been trying to call so long, and no one's picking the phone?"
I mumbled some excuse for that. "Anyways, leave that," he said. "Man, you're 'Hello' is so crap! Ha-lo? Ha ha..."
I tried a different style from then onwards. "Good Morning" was kinda good, until my friends started thinking they'd dialled the wrong number.
"Hi" was nice for some time, but somehow it never caught on. Finally, in an act of desperation, I picked the receiver once and said, "Yo!"
It was my biology teacher. After asking whether she had dialled the correct number, she wanted to speak to my mother. About ten minutes later, my mother came up to me, looking annoyed. "I just talked to your teacher now," she said. "Son, what's wrong with your hello?"
From then onwards, I seldom attend the phone....
Over and Out.
Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.
04 March 2008
Top Rated Posts
This is a list of the Top Rated Posts of Laptop Diary, as chosen by the Author (meaning me!). If you would like to add any other post to this list, or remove a certain post that's not so deserving, leave a comment here. And this list will be continuosly updated, as and when I write a Top Rated Post.
One more thing...please do comment, or subscribe to the blog.
One more thing...please do comment, or subscribe to the blog.
#1 - A Handful Of Olives
#2 - My Card House
#4 - Julius Caesar 1.5
#5 - The Mallu Who Lived
#6 - You Had A Bad Day?
#8 - How I Got My Dimples
#9 - My Family Pack
#10 - Think Of Ajay
#14 - Me And My Decisions
#15 - What's Wrong With My Hello?
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