Sorry, Sir :'(

Dear Sir,
No one knows how badly I want to be a part of this programme. This music class is gradually taking me to the levels I have been wanting to reach. Sir, you are God to me. I feel blessed being taught by you. Being trained for a programme by you is such an honour. Refusing to be a part of such a programme feels like a sin. I really did not want to sin. I am still craving to be a part of this programme in which your talented group of students is going to perform. When your students, my music class mates, used to tell me that I gave a good performance in class, I never believed them. I just took it as a good gesture by them. But when you said that I have potential, I was touched. I began to believe in my musical self. Having you as my Guru is one of the best things that has happened to me in my life so far. Time spent listening to you feels like time spent in heaven. You have helped me dig out hidden skills in me.

Yesterday, you asked me why I am not taking part in this programme. Sir, it is not because of anything that anyone might be guessing. It's my family. My traditional, boring, conservative, typical orthodox Indian family. Being out on 31st night, for them, is a disrespectful, shameful and dangerous act. They will not let me stay out of home 'alone' that day because it is not right. What will people think? Where was I till midnight? Partying is such a disrespectful thing to do! They will not come along with me for the show because driving back home will be unsafe since it's a night of drunken driving, accidents, arrests etc. 31st night is sensational and it is best to stay put at home like we have been doing all these years. This 31st night is going to be my saddest new year's night. I will be at home, wishing that I weren't.

You told me yesterday that I should come out of my shell. When you asked me why I wasn't taking part, it took me a lot of effort to stop those tears at the back of my eyes. I had nothing to say. How could I tell you there that it's my family that doesn't want me to be a part of this. I am sorry for letting you and everyone else down. Its a sin to make people request a new comer like me to be a part of the show and me turning them down. I am not big enough for it. Anyday but 31st, I have been told by my family. You will not understand them. I still haven't.

I am sorry. Genuinely sorry :'(

My first NaNoWriMo.

The closest one goes to publishing their novel is when they complete writing it. The closest I went to publish mine was when I started writing it. It was on the 1st of November this year when I decided to be a part of NaNoWriMo. It took me a few years to decide which of the tales in my happening life I should use in my book. A fiction story that you write for the first time is always inspired by your real life, unless you start as a pro. So I kept searching for MY most spicy tale. I had a dozen options till 6pm of the first day of NaNoWriMo. Then I remembered that old saying about how a thousand mile long journey starts with the first step. So I started typing before I had my story in my mind. I kept deleting and re-typing the first couple of lines of my story for an hour when the bulb floating above my head flashed bright! I had finalized one spicy tale to reproduce! Yay!!

My new first line came into being. And then the second. They lived for a few minutes, till I decided that it wasn't framed well and rewrote them. When my day ended, I had two lines. Yes, still just two! The two final first lines of my story. I was happy that I had at least begun. I am so easy to please!! With 50,000 words to be completed in 30 days, each day should ideally end with 1667 new words. I had about 20 at the end of my first. Genius! I will write 2000 everyday, I told myself and slept happily.
Next day I did not sit to type my story. I only thought of it. And then I had a debate with myself about the choice of story I had made. My day ended with the same 20 words of 1st Nov. AND a new calculation!. 1072 words per day, starting Nov 3rd. Sounded fair.

The next 28 days were different. Because I had a new calculation each day and there were days when I didn't even bother to think of this project called NaNoWriMo or even about the fact that I am a blogger.

Finally, on 30th November, my National Novel Writing Month ended with a two lined super suspense novel.

At this rate, I should shift to writing those six-worded stories. My mind will do all the thinking, editing and rewriting. Mighty convenient! :D

Passion appreciated

Finally, the day came when my guru enjoyed my song :) Bliss. Today has to be really special.

Karan Singh Rathore: Part I - Falling in love with a voice

It was one of those seasons when completing assignments was more important than brushing the teeth, when the only source of entertainment in our cozy, wrecked hostel room, amidst A4 sized pages and books that weighed more than my birth weight, was that little talking-singing box, my radio walkman. We listened to RJ Aniruddh’s flirtatious voice in the afternoon, RJ Geeta Modgil’s naughty rants in the evening, unidentified, staccato advertising voices, all this in the middle of songs, new and old, that played all day long. I usually stuck to Radiocity 91 FM because they always played Hindi songs and that’s what I loved to hear.

One night, as my pen scribbled out on yet another bundle of A4 sheets, in between songs, a voice spoke out. My pen paused. I sat still, wide eyed, heart beating hard, full of awe and admiration for the voice that spoke. “Mere sunnewalon, aap sun rahe hain Yaadein..”, went the voice. Poetry followed, thoughts followed, listeners called him up and he spoke to them on air... as I sat there awestruck, dumbstruck, just letting the best voice in the world wash over me, the voice of Karan Singh, radio jockey of Radiocity 91 FM. It was the year 2002.

We were 4 roommates and we all listened to him together with a lot of admiration and appreciation (and a lot of shivers and little shreiks from me). We’d write down or record his shers and his panktiyaan.. his lovely writings that he used to recite passionately to all of us, on air. His style of reciting was incomparable, matchless, and that teamed with his deep, husky, heartfelt tone, it was heavenly!! :)
An urge grew within me, irrepressible urge. I wanted to talk to him. But silly me, every time I heard his voice on air, I’d go weak in the knees.. if I heard him on phone.. talking exclusively to me !!!! I’d ... THUD!! drop to the floor!

And so, I remained a craving fool, just listened to him and envied the people who, unlike me, were not nervous to call and talk. Thursday was the day of the week when he used to take calls. On that day, he used to ask his listeners a common question and the callers used to answer one by one. It’d be a question that made people think, analyse and then answer. I always had stuff to say. Everything I had to say filled up within me till I couldn’t contain anymore. That’s when I decided to start mailing him. I’d mail him elaborately about my thoughts, my views. For every little thing asked on air, be it questions or suggestions, I would mail him my replies.

One day, to my pleasant surprise, there was a mail from Karan Singh in my inbox, awaiting to be read. I screeeeamed in joy!! :D :D A mail from the man whose words and voice I admired and whose voice I knew was the best in the world! I'm falling short of words to explain my excitement at that time :). Soon, he started mentioning my name on air, thanking me for my mails, reading out my suggestions and mailing me off and on :)

One Saturday, Geeta Modgil, another RJ of the same radio station, before going off air after her show, announced that Karan Singh would be off air for 2 days because he had got married and was on his honeymoon. 2-day honeymoon?? Karan Singh got married?? :-O Technically, it shouldn't have made a difference to me, but like all female fans, I was.. not a bit happy. Na.. not one bit! It didn't seem fair! I sulked for a few hours, but slowly spoke to my head that I should be happy about it. The next day (Sunday), I sent an e-card to him and distributed chocolates in the hostel. (Everyone there knew that I was a HUUUGE fan of his!)
Monday night came and Karan was on air again. He began the show with, "*sigh* main thak gaya hoon.. Geeta ki harkaton se.. Nainashree aur Shrutiji, thanks for your ecards." (Nainashree was another regular caller). He assured us that there was no marriage and that Geeta was just being a little brat.

The next day, I distributed chocolates in the hostel again :)

(...to be continued...)

Death

The last of my grandparents expired - my maternal grandmother. She is the only grandparent I have really had a sensible conversation with, the only one I 'knew' because by the time I was 10, she was the only one left. She was 93, frail and weak with no ailments and died in her sleep in her house. Not in a hospital. That's a very peaceful death.

But I don't want to die like that. I still stick to my brain tumour fantasy. With all the passive smoking and excessive pollution inhalation (added to my liking for the smell of pollution), I am sure I will not even reach my eighties. I don't want to. I know I will be suffering from ailments that don't even exist now! Moreover, I am not the kind of person who takes care of their health.  I don't eat right or sleep right. How many youngsters these days take care of their health just because they want to live longer? Going to the gym, taking brisk walks or jogging are not the only things that keep one healthy. There are numerous don'ts to be followed too.

Forty cigarettes a day. Have you heard of that? What level of elasticity must be left in those alveoli? Zilch!! Heard of anyone who has quit smoking only once and never smoked again? That's a fictitious species. The more common kind you find is one that quits every night. Then they start again the next morning. EVERY next morning! They have an excuse each time too, just like they have, each time they drink and damage their liver and kill their brain cells. But who cares?

What these uncaring fools don't know is that at a point in their life, they might be with the perfect partner, with lovely kids and their love for life will have increased. They will want to live longer so that they can feel all the beautiful moments. How would it be if one such beautiful moment is near and our uncaring smoker finds himself on his death bed, never weaning off the ventilator, trying hard not to slip into unconsciousness, yearning to live a little more to witness that blissful moment which might just slip out of his reach? How will repentance help then?

Sleeping less has adverse physiological effects. And I am sitting up at 2am and preaching about how one should take care of their health. This habit is enough to make sure that I don't live beyond 80. Nice thing. Like I said before, I don't want to be dependent. A late brain tumour detection would mean quick death, with a brief period of pain and suffering.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vrijilesh from Chai Biskut With Vrij got into a blogging treaty with me yesterday. Only bloggers who've had a family in blogosphere can understand  how it hurts to miss blogging for so long. The treaty says that at the end of my post, I tell Vrij what he should next write about. The post has to made within a week. At the end of his post will be his question for me. I am allowed to make a post totally unrelated to his question.
Okay, the last line there is a lie :P


So, Vrij, I want to hear about the oldest patient you've had.

Alive now

Long break. I know. The break happened because of a lot of things, about which I might tell, some other time. But for now, I have something important to report. Who knows what might happen?

I got my first real death threat today. It was from the father of a seemingly mentally abnormal girl who enjoys cheap gossip. Can I just post this much and go? Posting this so that there are at least a few people who know that there really WAS a threat. Just in case I get killed or something... you know :-/

Am active on facebook. So you know when I'll really be dead ;)