Who`s sane?

Staring at the false cieling...sans the fan
Screaming like a Tarzan..who missed catching his Jane
Lousy work...A'int am a great dane
Derailed...is but, my career train
Add simmering weather...to lower back pain
Who can be sane..when fluids exited the brain
To thou! Here I do complain....

Broke Back...

Disclaimer: As I lie on my bed and write this post , let me assure you that I am as straight as it can get...

And hence this post it not related to broke back mountain rather its about a broken back...My broken back. The doctor has adviced me three days of bed rest. So I thought I might enlist some common causes of back problems which could have brought me to my present state

?Can it be due to some serious Back breaking work
No, I cannot relate to any kind of back breaking work as I have always been a very efficient person . Kindly appreciate my idea of efficiency as explained below.
Efficiency= Output/Input
My output in nearly constant (since it always -> zero), hence I keep on incearsing my efficiency by reducing my output

??Its also not related to any kinda of accident while exercising(The work 'exercise' here includes all the possible definitions your dirty mind can throw;-))

???Is is because of any trauma of the past
No, again since I have long recovered from the pain of innumerable 'Technical salam`s' we had given to our seniors at the time of ragging

????Is my kamariya (back) nazuk (weak)
No again,since its perimeter is reminicent of a banyan tree...

?????Did I lift something heavy
Possible, I might have paid heed to few , among the people who keep on saying 'Cmon,get your big ass moving'?

But sometimes you just have to bend forward to fold your jeans and if you have the luck I posses, you`ll experience the most gruesome pain you`ll ever encounter.

So what have been the aftereffects?

- I have become even more 'laid back' now;-)
- I could now justify the 'Buddha' tag put off late by some of my female friends
- I have become more religious since with each movement, the only word that comes out is 'Ya Allah'
- I am actually enjoying being pampered at home

Anyways I hope to be 'Back' on work on tuesday...God willing...Inshallah

Recession just hit my brain!!

Kya mein bottle mei padi ...sadti sharab hoon
Ya mein ghode ka ....bacha hua julab hoon

Kya mein khoya hua ...heera ek naayaab hoon
Ya mein band padi..... hotel Arbaab hoon

Kya mein khade collor ka rubaab hoon
Ya mein bageeche mein murjhaya .....ek gulab hoon

Kya mein seekh pe jala kebab hoon
Ya mein purani baawdi mein baansta...... aab hoon

Kya mein latakte chamgadhad ka ....pankhe surkhaab hoon
Ya mein gande naale si nadi...... chenaab hoon

Kya mein nahi dabaya hua .....aadab hoon
Ya mein mehakti hui .....geeli jurab hoon

Kya mein dimaag ki bujhi batti...... kharab hoon
Aur kya mein ab aapko pakane mei kaamyaab hoon?

Shadi Ka Laddu--Part 2

As Mr Siddhu rightly said.."Experience in the comb which life gives you when you are bald".I have learnt this the hard way that you should never leave a job unfinished. My decision to write the blog in parts have backfired majorly . The first part has come under the scanner of my home ministry. Now I am writing this blog under a point 'Belan' range using whatever remaining rights of free speech I am left with now :-(
"Satya -Mev ............(hamesha)Pit-te"
Every dark cloud has a silver lining. And fortunately, my woman is a firm believer in the saying that the quickest way to a mans heart.........
I am not sure, if there is any clear cut partition inside me that divides my heart from my stomach. However,one thing is for sure that both of them have room for many:-)
I am glad that I dont need to survive on maggies or Mr MTR`s survival kits anymore.Since my needs are very basic, heartful meals keep me more then happy.
The other good thing is that I now wear clean/Ironed shirts which now matches with my trousers. And I can actually find the clothes in my closet now. So the daily drill of searching for a missing sock is a thing of the past. My house is now SocX compliant;-)
Talking abt socks ,I was also enlightened with a gospel that the socks we wear have to match with the belt.
I have even broken my age old equilibrium with the colonies of microbes living in the innumerable cavities of my teeth. Their late night buffets have ended now when I am forced to brush my teeth before I sleep.
The chance to work in a Ramsay brothers blockbuster is also gone since I cant grow my nails for more then a week.
She has made sure that I reduce my role in Airtel network congestion too.
Be late then being late is my driving mantra now.
For the first time, I have discovered the meaning of being 'responsible' .It actually feels nice to know that you have a reason to go back to your home. I guess Its almost immpossible to explain the healing effect of her simle when she opens the door for me.
For all the souls who are jobless enough to read this post, take my word and take the plunge.
Even if you are martyred in the line duty, you would have surely tasted this sometime sour/mostly sweet "shadi ka laddu":-)
(After all freedom is not the only thing in life)

Shadi ka Ladoo...Part 1

When you are fully aware that your knowledge competencies would not support any meaningful dialogue that would further increase the present intellect level of human race, then you start blabbering on this topic ,given your qualification that you have jumped over 'the fence'.
Of the many choices life offers, the most scary is obviously to/not to eat this so called 'shadi ka Laddu'. Having successfully avoided many marriage ceremonies and match making instincts of friendly neighbourhoods and innumerable 'close' relatives ,who sprang out of nowhere only because you had a decent job, I finally ran out luck and of places to hide. Before I could blink, I was asked to open up my mouth, eat the laddu and close it back (for the rest of the life;-)).
However, being an iternal optimist, I am a firm believer in the saying that 'Bander kabhi gulaati maarna nahi chodta'. At this moment I should mention about my perfectly functional 'tracker' that successfully locks on eligible target anywhere, be it the food court of my office campus/ or a car passing at 100 Km/hr in the opposite lane.This tracker triggers a reflex reaction in my body that generates achain of commands which compells my neck to behave like a sunflower(or more like a heat seeking missile).
The first casualty on the 'other side' was this tracker. I now find that the peripheral vision is gone now.The only direction I can look is 12 O Clock (Experienced people would understand this direction;-)). All the time, my concious mind passes some timely alerts simlar to this famous line from a not-so famous reality show...'Big Boss is watching you....sssSSSSS'.
The second casualty are the front disc brakes of my bike. They are rusting as they are rarely used now:-). The lists is innumerable, if only I had the courage to list them all.
I envy the sambi`s and Sriram`s of this world who avoid this laddu citing their allegance to the teachings of Swami Vivekanand (Or is it Osho?).
..............................To be continued;-)

Dress Code...

Of the innumerable useless mails that floats around in office, we got a rather interesting one about the dress code policy. All these mails related to any company policy is usually associated by an animated gentleman who calls himself a poilcy pundit. Ironically he was talking about dress code when in all practicality he was wearing nothing except an ear to ear smile.
As if to bring a coherence in his appearance and the content of the mail, I noticed a line which read "When in doubt...DON'T".
DON'T? So was he trying to indirectly motivate all by asking everyone to be comfortable under (only) their skin?
Anyways, ignoring this blunder, the mail enlisted all the Do`s and Dont`s with a footnote that read that each dresscode violation would be fined Rs 200.
Had the punditji being discrete about his description of Fab India/Party shirt/Half shoes/Sandals/Corduroys/Sleeveless floral kurtas/Ritu Beri`s expired labels, the company would have lost out on a big chunk of money as per the following calculation

Total employess=10000
%Violation/per day=20%~2000
Income Lost= 2000*200*365=Rs 14600000/year

I know this is calculation is too far fetched but trust me,that there is a 20% violation on any given day. Besides I also need to some monetary association to cox the enforcers of this policy, to aleast have a glance.

My contention is that ,either you dont make a policy or when you do make any, enforce it with rigour.

What say?

Whats in the place?

Raju Supari's,was the term coined for all of us who joined MACT-REC Bhopal from Rajasthan. That was the first time I realised that an association to a place defines the herd you have to move around, atleast in the ragging period. I asked myself, what makes me a raju when I cant even speak a word of Marwari or Mewari. Well ,with due deliberation, I could find atleast one attribute which relates me to the soil of rajasthan, and this was my height. So this 'Oonth' can proudly claim to be a native of Udaipur, when all my life I never even bothered to visit the city palace or any other place which defines it as one of the main tourist attractions on Indian map.
I have also spent 8 years of my life in Maharasthra, and thus I could have well earned a Matthu domicile till one day Mr Raj asked me to recite the recipe of Bhakar wadi in Marathi.
So I migrated to Hyderabad and I soon felt at home thanks to all the fact that everyone around were as ignorant in Hindi Vyakaran, as I was. Besides this place had common slangs with Bhopal or Nagpur, my nurseries where I enriched my vocabulary.So whenever needed, I exchanged the 'compliments' with the necessary goodwill attached:-)
However, even after spending three years here, I still cant read the bus numbers or stand the sight of Mahesh Babu/ Chiru on the hoardings.
Something has stuck me now and I could now relate to one more thing from MY LAND. Its the free spirit of the Rajasthani tribe called 'Banjaras' .
Besides I have realised that what's in the place, after all its just a Noun;-)

Whats in the name?

I was born Saqib, bred and fed as Saqib,till I moved to amchi Mumbai to persue my MBA. Muh frnds re-christened me to saQ. I wish it ended there. Feeling extra generous, they gifted a 's' at the end of my first trimester. So my name would henceforth bear an uncanny resemblance to 'the' thought that engages an average male for 90% of his time. If you are still wondering what I mean, imagine someone calling you saQs. To some dudewala`s, the sound of this name may inflate their ego`s (if not anything else). But I am Saqib, and my family name bears no resemblance to the Hashmi`s of this world.
I thought of gaining my self esteem back once I am out of Mumbai. But,life has its own sense of humour, and I ultimately landed into a job with the same set on friends around.
So saQs continued...And I resigned to the fate...afterall, its just a noun