Its One Life.... Lets Live it Kingsize

Its One Life.... Lets Live it Kingsize

Its too many times now. I hear these afflictions. The fact unsure off is that how much of it is true. Its hard enough to hear and feel when people from my own age and era speak off with deep regret and deadening concern that they are fed up and they want to quit. Well quit what??.. The Job? The place? The world or the life itself? I have heard off my colleagues speak off in very rational sense that IT job offers you nothing but decreased life span and an overwhelming amount of stress. Many are even rushed to psychologists for counseling and stress release treatments. Medicines have a different way of treating your body. But can it run long enough. Is there any asylum which guarantee that stress will not come back to trouble you. The tentativeness of these methods are short run as these are quick fixes. The readiness to believe that happiness is not something that has to be sought after. It all lies within you. You can make you happy and gratified only if you believe you can be happy amidst even genuine reasons to be unhappy. The war here is between you and your thought process. Situations have modified, prejudiced, mentored and glorified many a great men as well as the commoner over the ruining tides of time. Greatness comes with fortification of the mind to rebel against the demons that try to overpower you with all its strength. The art of maneuvering one’s mind is the key to success.

Amidst all reasons to be happy and agile, to all those who still frown and mumble that this life has nothing more to offer, let us ask a few simple questions ourselves . How many of us have planted a seedling and watch it grow. How many of us go upstairs of the towering structures that we work at with a coffee mug and watch the horizon during an evening. How many of us has the time to listen to the rain. How many of us walk a long stride on a winter evening ? How many of us visit our grandparents? How many of us know the art of silence. How many of us smile in the mirror?

Simple but tough ones. isn’t it ? I believe life starts from the basics and henceforth it grows like a mustard tree with goodness all around it and all within it. We all are fortunate enough to be living in an era where technology has the power to overwhelm us. We are redeemed from many a fatal epidemics which our erstwhile generations looked at only with dreaded eyes and frightened minds. We have life-saving medical devices. We have entertainment. We have intoxication all around us. But nothing is able to redeem us. We still remain unhappy.

I used to doubt when my father used to say that in their childhood days, when the monsoons soaked the countryside, they used to go to school by holding long Banana leaves over their heads while the richer kids enjoyed the freedom of having umbrellas made of bamboo stalk . And during summer vacation they used to collect torn muslin from every homes and wind it on top of tender baby-coconut, stitch it using one and half inch needle and tie thread to make it intact. The whole thing at the end of a profound endeavor would resemble a football made of tight muslin. A foot ball that weighed 5 times the original one. They used it to play football in the mud streets and would come back home limping after playing with a bruised or right-angled foot. The best thing is parents never cared forth whether they have come back with bruised leg or a turned one. The next day, when they come back from school, still with the limping foot, they never ask for medicines or pain relievers. First thing they would search is their toughly-made Muslin football which would have half-torn by previous day’s struggle in the mud. By default a kid in the village was a gifted swimmer and they competed to determine who stayed beneath the water longer. Stoning the ripe blue-mangoes was an art that required immaculate skills. And dad’s best friend, the left handed Ukru was a stunner at this game. He never went out of the village. Had he once gone out and seen the outside world, he would have won a gold medal in Olympics for India in some items like archery, or 10 M short rifle. A man, when his right eye closed, never missed the target. They never saw a cricket match. Instead they heard the commentary over the radio at the one and only radio in the village established at panchayat reader’s club. Every four hit was a dance and every six hit was toddy dance. They never had the internet, the only means of news was the headliner slides shown at the talkies before the show began which showed Indira Gandhi’s arrival in England and how the police busted the Naxalite racket in the champal. They were delighted when they were able to light a zero-watt bulb in the Christmas crib using a 10 volt battery that they bought using money they were deprived off. They ran behind the silver lining. Nonetheless, they have still have the strength to run behind the plummeting asteroid.

By all means, our parents’ generation was so less privileged than us. They were genuinely fragile, malnourished, vulnerable and susceptible. Still heart of hearts they have done more than we could ever fathom in our wildest dreams and they have derived joy for themselves. Where are those times gone. Why are we not able to do the same? The answer is there in the legend their times have to say. The mark between a genuine man and a mediocre man is that when a genuine man says a thing he means what he says and mediocre man doesn’t. One can only achieve success by compounding one’s life to certain rules integrally laid down by nature. Comprehend it to one word and we call it discipline. It’s the underlying code to be happy. One can never achieve happiness if he is not willing to submit his life to this conscientiously crafted rule by the nature and the omnipotent force that governs the magnanimous plot of our lives.

Starting today, experiment new things in life. Sing a song when you drive back home. After all who is going to hear. Try a new step in the bath room. Who knows a coveted dancer is deep asleep within you. Visit your grandparents back at the native. Listen to the stories they have to say. In my childhood, On a calm night I slept on my Grandmas Lap listening to her saying How Robert Bruce fought the battle 7 times only to fail. But 8th time how he won. Relenting is often taken for granted but I always remember that story from my grandma when I fail. It at least gives me hope that I can do better next time. It’s a flare. It’s a faith. There are secrets deep within them. Think straight and deep. Say things which are positive and that spreads delight. When in doubt, never go for the bigger leap. Donate. Be calm and polite. Be quick to respond but calm to react. Help always and never hesitate. Do different things which you have never done till date. Go for walks. Have a coffee with your teammates. Be sensitive to other’s feelings and be polite. Say “Marvelous job” even if that person has only moved a chair for you. Always appreciate and never ever complain. Be Gentle . Learn to say sorry and admit your mistake once you have realized that you are wrong. Watch out for the wider horizon. There are things which are impending importance. Fall in love. And yes, if you sincerely feel there is someone you have special feelings for, simply stand up walk up straight to that person and say. “I Love you” right onto their face and that’s called guts. Who knows 3 words can find you your soul-mate. There is nothing wrong in denying anything. But do it with gentleness. Lets show our children that our times too have a legend to say. Nonetheless, Lets be the normal guy and be ourselves deep within us. Its just that we must learn to dance to the music. Life is just not as tough as it seems. Just keep exploring. The world is calling, why wait and be sober. LETS GO OUT AND DANCE. It’s one life … Lets Live it King-size.

In Memmorium of my Best Friend…….

In Memmorium of my Best Friend…….


It was one of those pale, cold, breezy evenings in December last when I walked past the large gates of my college. After 10 long painful years……!! After 10 dark years of Solitude….. I am now back at my college which once was Heaven on Earth . Withered Leaves on the road started dancing in the gentle breeze that was there. The air was cool. The Breeze …. gently hit my face …it had such a soothing effect which made me feel light at heart. The same old road ….that has tall Asoka and pine trees all along ……all led to my college…. My Alma Mater. There was the welcoming Board in front of me at the gates which said……

“ 9TH RICHARD GONZALVAZ MEMORIAL AWARD DISTRIBUTION & ALUMNI MEET”

My foot showed laziness to move. I thought …. Today is 21st December. It has been exactly 10 years since Richard has left this world. 10 years of loneliness … since my Richy had left me alone. 10 years back … this was the bloody damn date when he died on my Lap.

Further ahead there was a small turning to right which was so familiar to me …. The ‘right ‘ which Richy and I had took hundreds of times together… walking…. Staggering….riding ….and so on… The sign board said ….’Hostel Block B’. I could hear applauds from the auditorium which was near by and which lay straight ahead. Those sounds meant that the function has already got underway. But I preferred to take right. To go to the room where Richy and I had spent the best 4 years of our lives.Our B-Tech College life. The warden recognized me immediately. Our Old George Bhai.


“Hey Syam .. how are u?, The function has already started . what are u doing here ?”

Asked George Bhai.

I said: “ I know …. Just wanted to see B111… Our old room… just for once….Any one up there?”

“No one there now….here are the keys ….. But …. Why son? Are you both going to conspire again how to fool me and pull yourself out for the second show “?


To this I had only a forced smile and turned my foot towards B111. The corridors seemed very much the same. This was the same corridor where I had to drag Richy to our room after we guys held Booze Parties on the terrace of Hostel B on clear blue nights… stars staring back at us. His vomit splattered on my shirts umpteen number of times.


I unlocked B111. The very same room … Nothing has changed…..except for few coats of paints on the ceilings and walls. Our own very aboard…where we spent night out study sessions before exams…. The place where we discussed girls on powerless rainy nights….The place where Richy’s brave expeditions took shape…. I could feel his 555’s puff smudging the air even now….Richy was my room mate…. No… my friend …. No My brother…. No …. My soul Itself…!!!

Time ran back ….like in a dream…!!!

I still remember the day when we checked in as complete strangers.



Richard Gonzalvaz from Goa (B-Tech, Mechanical Engineering). Aka Richy.

Syam Mohan Varma from Cochin , Kerala(B-Tech, Mechanical Engineering).Aka Sam.

Room number B111.



I started knowing Richy as a very outdoorsy person, a guy who had no inhibition in spitting out what ever he had in his mind…A bold, stern, adventurous handsome dude. He was fair, tall, and had bluish green eyes.

His idea of life was to enjoy to maximum whatever it takes to be. Without any responsibilities… without knowing what “worries” were. He found madness in bikes, speed, sports, rum and money. There was nothing romantic in the guy’s life. At a later point of time, I learned the reason for that. Richy was orphaned at a tender age. His parents died in an accident when Richy was a Kid leaving him as a very Rich Orphan. Richy grew up as the commander of his own life. No one to question him. He once told me that he started smoking once he was in his 9th grade. He always used to say “Richy…. The Champ…”. He was stubborn. Never held his head low. But He was good at heart.He was an atheist. A guy who took life as a play where nothing but entertainment mattered.

I also hated Richy for his weird Ideas like cracking fireworks in seniors’ room… revenge for ragging. When caught, Richy took up the responsibility and freed me out of the punishment which he bore alone ….one month suspension. Also he had Wildest of dreams like trekking on Rodingarph’s cliff where no one ever returned after trekking. The guy also knew loathsome tricks like inhaling smoke and blurting it out through his eyes. But The positive art the man knew was his tennis racquet in his hand. He crafted golden victories for the college with that. When it came to tennis, Richy was simply unbeatable. He won many accolades and this won him the so called “college fame”.


Everything in of our lives just fell into place. Our Hang-outs on Richy’s bike, The college excursions, the behind-the-scene proposals( which we used to laugh at), the weekend canteen chats, his tennis practice in late evenings, the college day skit (which was such a flop) ,the terminal exams(no sleep) n so on….

It was beginning of 6th semester when Nandini walked into Richy’s Life. Or rather our lives . Nandini was also a Mechy(female mech. Engg). She was beautiful, smart and alluring. One of those girls who guys would eye even if they decide not to do so. She Joined our Lab group. Not only was she smart at doing things but also she was good at studies. So Richy and I didn’t have problems finishing our records and stuff. We three went out for films. Had long chats in the football ground gallery and it was so much fun. We gave her the biggest surprise on her B’day(though Richy sponsored the gift) ….An electric Guitar that she longed for. Richy himself wrote his special lines on her B’day card. A few days Later I saw them sitting on the edge of football ground…chatting and laughing their stomach out. I didn’t go out to them and spoil their private company. While walking alone to the room, the chord of silver struck me. May be Richy has found his soul-mate. Nandini and him made one heck of a pair. May be they are in Love. No.. that cant be the case… he wont hide it from me…My doubts strengthened when I happened to see his copy a few days later . It was all scribbled “Nandini” in various calligraphy. I felt happy for them. More for Richy because finally he now knows the meaning of Love. He has fallen in Love. God … I couldn’t Believe it. I felt a little envious also since Nandini was not that sort of girl that any guy would appreciate being taken away by another one of his own sex. I too had a crush on her like any other guy . But Now She is my Richy’s Girl. I felt happy for them.

Time went by… and it was our last Christmas week in our college Life. Everyone were in an exhilarating mood. I still remember …. It was on that dark December 21st I received a call from Prof. Varghese saying that Richy has met with a terrible accident and is dying on the hospital bed. I rushed to the hospital. My blood already was red Ice….!! The doctor said he wanted to see me. I went in…. There lies my Richy..all wrapped up in white cloth… Breathing hard through the Life Supporting Mechanism. It was so pathetic to see. It was like seeing your soul about to leave this world. He took my hand in his. His eyelids barely open. What amazed me was he was still trying to smile and he slowly stuck up some thing in my hand…a ragged piece of paper. With that …lies my Richy, Dead. His smile still there on his face. His Bluish Green Eyes …. Wet …. But motionless…!!!

The paper he gave was the last ever words he spoke… The Solemn secret of his that I have Held for the past ten years…. Which gifted me one Life Time of agony….The most paining words u ll ever get from a friend…

Dear Sam Brother,

Pardon me if I am being wrong in doing this. But I have no options. I will not be there to smile back at u when u r reading this stuff……..U know bro… Life is a bloody riddle. I had been cheated once when your so called God took my Mom and Dad away. But he gave you to me.. I rejoiced. He gave me one beautiful set of friends … Like David, Eshant , Gayathri and…. And finally Nandini. She is too Good Man. Such a sweet Kid.

I don’t know what made me close to her. But One thing I know dear….. She was starting to make sense to my Life….But I m such a monster to take her feelings for granted…..I thought she was mine ….until yesterday evening. That’s when she said …….

She is in Love with You Buddy…..!! Trust Me She Loves You….. And Look where am I again. Again a bloody rotten story from Your God ….. I am out of Picture…. Again fooled….Again he is trying a prankster on me…..This time I wont fail… You don’t want your Richy to fail…. Do you? So here I go in search of my Wildest dreams ……trekking on the Rodingarph’s cliff. I will return …..Richy will rewrite History.

You and Nandini form an awesome pair buddy. Marry her. I ll attend your wedding sometime soon. If we have a rebirth … as u fools believe, I always want you to share my Mothers Womb With Me Brother… Because I love You more than anything in this world…..One more thing Dude….. Please don’t take me away from this place …. Where I met u guys…. Let me rest in this soil…. Dreaming U guys will return……to see me …..Promise me two things….

1.I wont leave our campus
2.Nandini Will never Come to know this. Let this trekking thing remain an accident to rest of the world.
So … Its time … to take the passion to my soul…..Live Life Kingsize Brother.



Love,
Your Dirty Brother
Richy The Champ.


As the train of thoughts lay dead, I found myself standing beside Richy’s tomb holding a torn piece of paper. The letter Richy wrote to me. He lay at the far end of our campus. Nandini sits in her wheel chair beside me staring at the words on his tomb. I wanted to speak to him.

Dearest Richy

Had we known that You were this light at heart(not the one you seemed to the world), we would have never dared to play that prankster with you dear. It was I who asked Nandini to say like that to U so that you …. U would open your heart to her that time at least. She loved u Buddy….. not me. She wanted it to hear from u my brother. But look what u did….. Your Nandini has never spoken a word after you left……she always looks to eternity expecting your return……all these years.

Wont you forgive me brother? Wont you come back to us…….!!!

I promise you brother I ll take her to any part of the world. Get the Best of treatment possible…. I ll bring your Nandini back to life.

I know U Richy, within a man lies his real self....which is known to only him....which is so bizarre.... sometimes.....Even the mirror can lie to You. We saw you..... Ur real self.......But u never saw us.....!!!!
Please say … Something … Forgive us dear…..!!!

As the cold winds brushed past me on that December evening, I walked back .. taking Nandini along with me…. To get the promise I made to my Richy. After all that’s the Best I can do for him.

Richy lies there watching us go …..with letters on his tomb echoing ……



"HERE LIES A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE



WHO LIVED FOR HIS FRIENDS….



AND WHO DIED FOR THE SAME……”



Author: Jean J Kachappilly

Infosys Technologies Limited, Bangalore

My first LOVE...!!!

Hi

This is Mathew Nynan Koshy from Gods own Country, Kerala. Yesterday evening I had a fierce verbal fight with my Wife, Rachel. The reason was the most common. I couldn’t take her to our son’s school Annual Day Celebration. Actually the reason was something different. Our Kid’s Annual Day Celebration was an Open forum for society ladies to showcase their newly bought designer sarees and that was one place where there was throat-cut competition between mothers to virtually determine who looked the most natural out of the heaviest of the make-ups. But to her hard luck I couldn’t make it from
office Yesterday. So she had to take sunny(our son) to school all alone. Since Sunny was with her she couldn’t fully get involved in gossips and “beating her own trumpet”. Usually on occasions like these Sunny stays with me. Rather she put him with me. Though he is only a 6 year old,he also knows its better to stay with his Dad.

When I returned from office at 10.00 at night , both of them were at home. Rachel’s nose Were red. I ignored her and went to Sunny. He jumped to me in affection. “ Dad where Were U…..?”.. he asked …..It was Rachel who responded for Sunny’s question . “Your Dad is the next Prime Minister of India. How come U didn’t know this Son……?”. It was sheer sarcasm. I Ignored her. I spoke to my son. “How was the day dear….?”

“Dad I won the SMILE BABY competition along with Neena.” He responded and showed the prize and the rose bouquet. “Oh fantast….” I started . but Rachel interrupted.“From where did you learn to smile sunny? I haven’t seen your Dad do it. He doesn’t have time to do it.” This time I couldn’t hold it. “Rachel … stop …. No abuse infront of the kid atleast”.

To this she darted back. “ Oh.! There were hundreds of Kids today at the school. All of them were happy to walk into their school with their parents holding their hands. It was only our Son who didn’t have his dad to hold his hand. Don’t you think that was an abuseto him . What sort of Dad are you…?”

I groaned “ Can I expect you to come to my office and finish my work then…..?”

She thrashed… “Gosh…..You………”

What followed was nothing less than a battle atleast for an hour. By that time Sunny had gone to sleep. After sometime both of us were tired of arguing. She went to sleep. I settled into a arm chair. A few moments later I caught sight of Sunny’s prize. Smiling Competition Prize. The One he won along with his best friend Neena. I looked at the prize . I looked for some resemblance. Atleast any resemblance to the prize that I won years back for the same competition. When I was a kid like him …… The Prize I won along with my then best friend….In Fact my first Love in my life. Memories fled back.

Year :1985

Venue: St. Mary’s Convent Lower Primary School, Trivandrum.

It was early time of my life. As early a time when I was asked my school’s name I would Proudly say …UKG B(Imagine …an age where I was not even able to differentiate between a school and a class) .That was the time when Rosa walked into my life. Rosa was a nice cute girl. Our relationship got away once when I was caught by our class teacher for not summarizing the rhyme. Then there was Rosa behind me helping me out. But Rosa too was caught for helping me. Both of our diaries were stricken with RED on that day and were sent to our respective homes. I felt like killing Sister Rose Maria, not for striking Red in My diary but for penalizing my angel Rosa. But that’s when we made friends. Friends… Big time Indeed. Sharing every new stuff that came up in our hands
like once she brought a new re-filler pencil(pink coloured) and gave it to me . I gave her my scented rubber (the one my uncle brought from gulf … the one I treasured ). As days went by .. we became the best pair in the convent.. winning the “Smile-Baby –Smile” competition at the same time. I even remember at one of marriage functions ,a distanat relative asking me with whom I was getting married. I was not at all hesitant to say Rosa’s name. All laughed around me. But I wasn’t joking . I wanted her.

All was fine till the end of UKG-B. That was the time when her father felt his daughter should be moved to a more socially respected school. So she was moved into a school where children of “Elite “ class got educated.

She was leaving. Rosa turned to smile ,tears running down her cheek. I forced the smile. I didn’t want her to see me crying. However I remember Crying when Rosa had gone. Gone to eternity.

Today….. after long 23 years, The only thing that I know about her is that
that she is married and she is mother to a kid. Her pink re-filler pencil lies Somewhere in my memories just as the ripe memories of a last bench of UKG B in St Marys Convent.

I felt someone’s hand on my forehead. I slowly opened my eyes. Rachel stood
There tears running down her cheek. She said “I m sorry for what ever I said
today…..wont you forgive me?” I stood up. I looked into her eyes. It resembled that of a cute little girl’s…. With whom I fell in love for one and only time…… Years back at the last bench …of UKG-B in St.Mary’s Convent school.

I remember her name being called out for attendance…. “Rachel Rosa Mary”… Then a Cute sound next to me used to respond … “Preshent Sishterrr….”. I felt her tears …. The same old tears which ran down her cute cheeks …when she had left me alone years back at those large gates…..!!

Today she is the mother to my Kid. The only love in my life……I took her in my
arms….as she fell onto my chest….i kissed her on her forehead. “ I love You Rosa…for what you are……”

You know what …. When you are destined to fall in love ….. there is nothing that could ever be in your way….. Rosa and I are living testimonies. And our little Sunny is the Best gift God ever Gave us……

NB: This is an article which is the result of pure imagination. All characters in this are unreal.

Author : Jean J Kachappilly
Infosys Technologies Limited,Bangalore
Posted on : 20th July 2008

The CAT Hurricane

The CAT Hurricane

Man. I have to tell you. My Plight for CAT has ended. I have ended up scoring 55 in CAT 2006. I don’t know where the hell will I end up with such a score. Any way it was fun . The story goes like this.
(Guys who fear horror is requested to refrain themselves from reading this blog)

It all began when I enrolled myself for the super-long batch at TIME in Nov 2005. I was elated initially. In fact, I loved what I was doing then. I do it even now but with a reduced spirit. I used to attend all classes at TIME. Collected all the study materials. Started going through it with cocksure enthusiasm. I started reading ‘MBA Education & careers’ with delight. Checked out various websites containing huge volumes of may-be-asked kind of crap. I spent hours in front of my PC browsing through the all those junk sites.

Oh!! My God! How many movies did I miss! How many parties did I sacrifice!. All for one stupid exam. Alas.Alas….I should have been brainless to give a try at something like CAT. Its amazing to think that 1.91 lakh people take it simultaneously. And also this is the test taken by all those dumb asses, far more intelligent than me. They are the ones who don’t take their eyes off the book even when a sizzling dame comes and sits on their lap. Oh! Boy .. Its ridiculous.

But You have to admit one thing. The Mock-Cats were super cool. One should have been patient enough to such an extend that he didn’t go nuts. Those exams really tested the matter. Even when I was writing the mock tests, I felt indifferent. I thought that 50 percentile in the mock cats means you are damn sure to have at least an eighty percentile in the original one. Bull Shit. It turned out to be. I was feeling this because many a jack asses will take CAT for just the sake of taking it. They do it to boast that they have taken CAT and has derived shit out of it. But in fact I was the big “jack ….”. The ones who has taken it for granted seems to have bagged the show. I sit here and write all these crap. Its funny? No man. It Isnt.

Guys, Now I understand one thing. When You are pitching against someone or something which is of bigger size than you, You have to set your brains working. Oops!!!..I still have to check out Whether I have one or not. Another thing is that they don’t refund the money. Its Rs1100 bucks for the form. Another fifty hundreds to apply to all the Classy Instititutes of your choice. This is ridiculous man. Why the hell have they set a scheme of this fashion. You have to apply before you know the result. It stinks man. It really does. Added to that the Answer keys that are out contradict themselves. Oh Boy!! How is that?? We are playing the Gamble. Gamble to fool ourseself.

Having an engineering background I Didn’t have much problem in solving Quant or basically mathematics. I managed a score of 30( Didn’t clear the cut-off) in 1.4 hours of the exam. The moment I saw the passages I thought of leaving the entire verbal section. It seemed awful. You will go nuts. Do Human beings write such stuff? I guess not. They must have fetched the article from some other planet. Yet I managed to attend 2 passages . Out of which I got 3 corrects and 7 incorrect ( wow!..what an accuracy!!amazing) .There was another stuff in English Section this time. You have to judge whether a statement is a judgment, fact or an Inference. This was comedy. All the options can be applied to all the bitchy statements. At some point of this exercise, I thought they should have given a forth option …”hypothetical”. Well with all the gaming I managed a 7 from this section ( the worst) DI (or in simple terms Data Interpretation) was Strategically Ok. Thank God!! No Graphs and “pies” this time. It was hard to manage time. But then Its Important how quick Ideas click your mind. I managed a decent 18 from this (the only thing to reach a cut-of).

Inference: CAT is a gamble. Luck is your partner here. You have to be rich to write CAT.
Serious preparation will come handy. NB: this means You have to study your 10th math n stuff all over again. 3 hours of work a day ll do. You have to miss parties, gossips, chitchats, movies ,hangouts, flirting, and all crap that a human will be interested in.
All this done means u might well have a faint chance to survive the hurricane.
And ya. For those who write it for the sake of writing it. Please don’t flirt around when you are writing CAT. Well… who knows u might get cuties at IIM’s. So please take the test seriously.