An Engineer’s Love Letter

Well, speaking about love, there is no discrepancy between any mortal alive. Its all the same. The same old emotion flows out, like an uncontrolled gush of water with no check on its flow.

People sometimes judge it  as ‘an intense feeling with deep affection’ viz-a-viz ‘misunderstanding between 2 people’, so on and so forth.

 It is hard to find a person who has not fallen in love. It is even harder to get back the love. 

Lucky are those who get it back, in quantity and quality higher than what you initially give.

It seems that no one ever has questioned the source from which this emotion arose. 

It is seemingly possible to believe that it was there from the day when Adam and Eve plucked the forbidden fruit.

From the day that the 1st pair of coelacanth arose from water and with multitudes of rounds of evolution and still today, being the product of a 4 billion year evolutionary process, love still is the same feeling for us.

It is still there and will always continue to do so.

Our protagonist is an engineer in love.

And here it goes…..

Dear ******,

              On the day we first met the ‘not-knowing-you’ emotion underwent a 180 degree phase shift to a you-are-the-one-for-me emotion.

Our further meetings triggered signals in my heart and amplified my feelings for you. The resistance that I had towards love was bypassed by your presence.

My heart had formed a set-up of a decoupling capacitor where all external interference from friends was bypassed and thrown down the drain.

In short, I felt that we are like 2 plates of a parallel plate capacitor with the whole world around us serving as a dielectric material.

Remember the day you replied positively to my love, the electric impulse that went up my heart was enough to charge a defibrillator to provide a shock strong enough to cure  the maximum extent of damage ever known to mankind. Thank God that I didn’t have to use it.

Every time I see you talk with someone, it makes my blood boil with rage. All the hate gets multiplexed and produces a single strong signal, so strong for him to withstand. 
Thankfully, the output didn’t have to be produced as his sensory circuits sensed some interference from nearby and he quickly withdrew from the scene.
He must have understood no equalizer in the world would have been able to smoothen out this heavily powerful noise waves.

Let me assure you that the signal my heart produces has the same strong intensity, amplitude and frequency. Let me also tell you that my heart is a distortion-less circuit and will continue to produce the same output forever, without fatigue.

Till we meet next time, you shall remain to be in my wavelength.



The Morning of the War

The rucksack hanging down on a side
In it lies all the supplies for sustenance
Guns loosely hanging on the other
Jumping and jiving with the rhythm of the boot
For it doesn’t know its counts of sin
Both balances the shoulders and
The line between life and death
We seek out to the path of justice
Thumping down the barracks
Out the meadows and lakes
Life is taking the toil on him
For his hands smells of blood
And the mind shivers of blood-curdling wails of helpless souls 
that left their dilapidated embodiment to attain the abode of peace
and of the heart touching wails of weeping homes
that lost their beloved love
The tremor of the consequences shatters the heart
The valor of a man braves it well
For he who knows the dharma of war,
It is nothing but, do or perish 
Going to the battlefield is a task
Ahead lies misery and grief
but the end of the path is glory and laurels
Seeking the man and his kith and kin
Girding up his loins and
keeping his mind set and ready 
The moment of war
that seeks not more, but the whole of you
Flee out of sight, so you will
lose out what is all you pride
Fight the way out, 
The road to glory is not that all
All what matters for him is 
his dignity upheld

The Man with the Golden Boot

The cacophony of the whistle rocked my eardrum as the men in black and red started passing the ball. 

Within no time, a short but well built young man took charge and he had the reigns of the game in his hand.

It was hardly 30 seconds since the game had begun when he shot a direct goal from the halfway line. 

The crowd erupted with joy and exuberant exhilaration was on the air. Even the opposition was their feet, clapping for the amazing young man.

He ran around the field (a bit of exaggeration, well, the game was played in the basketball court) with his arms held high. After a small tilt of his head upward to thank the Almighty, he began eyeing for the ball. 

The ball’s prayer to stay away from his hard hitting leg seemed unanswered as the sturdy leg thrust copious amounts of pressure to direct the ball to the goalpost yet again.

The man in black was doing it great for the men in black.

The timer was showing less than 180 seconds and the score was already 2-nil.

The men in red were running helter skelter just to block the man from getting the ball dribbling.

Soon, the nets felt the power of his boot again. The ball flew in with a rage enough to tear apart the net and the score board now showed 3-nil.

He was wreaking havoc in the enemy lines. He would appear in front of the ball at dubious points of time. 

Once the ball was in his clutches, the opposition members had to sweat it out really to get their hands (legs, yeah, of course) on the ball. 

Running up to meet the swiftness of his legs was tiring for all the men, including his own team playing there.

He led them to a glorious win.

The scoreboard was showing 4-1 at the end of the game with 3 massive goals under his belt and a clean pass that led to another beauty.

He is highly regarded as an unparalleled player amongst his peers. Classy stylish gentleman, he is. With the qualities for a manager and the agility of a footballer, let us wish him a wonderful journey ahead.

The Fight to Glory

The day had dawned and slowly was in the progress of reaching the dusk. Earth was still on its non-stop duty of rotating on its axis, while it slowly made its way around the sun. 

Dusk approached. Slowly and steadily, tints of black and hues of red were marching on to the ground that was supposed to be the venue of the much anticipated event.

The event was borne in the hearts of many for many a days. The iron will and sheer dedication was making a dream into reality.

Soon the venue turned out to be a sea of unprecedented joy and happiness . The colors that they had adorned to demonstrate their support was exemplifying the motive.

The basketball court was indeed speckled with black and red.

By the time, the dignitaries declared the event open, the gang of friends had parted ways to form coteries with only one goal- to lay their hands on the trophy that lay glistening on the table.

The speckled color combination moved to form multitudes of majestic red and glorious black to the left and right of the director duo with the other distinguished guests. 

The event or rather the battle of the brawns, brains and wits was declared open with ear deafening ovation.

The masses split into two energy packed huddles, showing off the diversity from within a united closely knit class. The air was humid with the exhilaration of the young managers-to-be as the ball kicked off for the first event- FOOTBALL.

Thus began the games. Friends taking on friends. Men of valor taking on men of might. Women of grace taking on women that outshine.

Friends to foes, 
Forever shall never remain the enmity
But lies within, the fire to cherish and
The glory to redeem
What we strive for 
Is to be unbeaten
We will remain champions
Despite the results that often takes sides
Never do we createth the divide
So do remain as friends
Forever one, forever strong
The spirit of the game burning within

Macroeconomic Distress

Thud Thud! 
Thud Thud!

Her heartbeats moved on from the usual lupp-dupp to a bombarding tone. Her heartbeat was in fact the only sound in the huge amphitheater classroom when I was asked a question by the stern looking professor. 
To buy some time, I asked for the mic to answer. In the mean time, my brain ran helter skelter to create some cock and bull story to pacify the blood thirsty like vengeance he had on the class. 
By the time the mic reached, I could hear my poor neighbor making frantic attempts to swallow spitballs and the breath was becoming paler. 
Was she on the verge of a nervous breakdown?
My heart had taken all the pains of getting higher up to my Adam’s apple. With great difficulty, the vocal cords pushed out a weak gush of air and my voice came out as if my larynx had forgotten to fine tune it. But yes, I did deserve a pat on my back for letting out some amount of language come out of me. 
After my answer, I saw a pale looking lady smiling at me. The tension had drained all the color on her cheeks and she resembled a living corpse of what she was 15 minutes earlier.
An exhilarated exhalation of elation followed as she confirmed that the professor stopped asking questions and turned on to discuss ways of how world would turn to be an economically safe place to be in. 

I think all seats should get an attached spygmomanometer that monitors the real time BP continuously. The meter is sure of getting dizzy on seeing the readings.

He was letting hell break loose. Loading us with assignments and unscrupulous deadlines, he was making life miserable in all possible ways.
It seemed the whole of the trimester was earmarked for just one subject and I seriously doubt even by continuously burning midnight oil, there was no chance of you getting anywhere near he wanted you to be or anywhere near the other subjects.
But, I seriously doubt. Was he in a way trying to make us learn economics? Was he gearing us up for what the ruthless merciless world had to offer?
Instilling fear and building a foundation on it to make us know the economy, the way it is and the way it ought to be, was he on the right track?
Only God knows!! But in this case, only he knows!!!

Fingers crossed!!!

Hamari Rastriya Basha!!!!

The laughter around me made me realize that I, too should at least smile.
The professor cracked a ‘wise’ joke and all my classmates were laughing their lungs (a**) out.
Just to join the company, I let out a sigh and forced my lips to curl to a absurd grin.
For the professor to understand that at least 1 sentence in the last 60 minutes had gained access to a 100% efficient response from the class, I had to join the party. 
I looked around as the people around me were trying hard to control the fits of laughter. 
The sight around me was that people were draining out the streams of joyous tears that left salty marks on their cheeks.
Now it was my turn to put up an artificial but authentic looking smile. 

The reason of me being left out was not that I was sleeping.  
I was sitting in the second row and for the very first time in almost a month, I was on the winning side in the battle with my eyes that were forcing to close to take me to the distant land of dreams.
The reason was simple: my lack of knowledge in Hamari Rastriya Basha, Hindi.
I leaned to the chap sitting next to me to translate the joke.
Reported speech never carries the zeal and vigor of active speech.
The joke just brushed through my senses, only able to initiate a small curve of my lips and failing to reveal the dimples hidden amidst the flabs of fat.  

Just the very moment, the professor started the monotone balderdash and the class was left to reel into the world where they would best fit in.

I never knew Hindi would play an important in my life. 
Accha, Teek Hai, Main Zaroor Hindi Sikhunga!!! 
Never mind.

The Love Aftermath

Have you ever fallen in love?

Or ever felt that you wanted to fall in love?

If its a ‘Yes’ to any of these questions, have you ever thought of its aftermath, the pros and cons of loving?

The girl whom you love, walks, talks or even smiles at another boy, ( Man, u gotta be kidding) well, I am not. Cross ur heart, you’ll feel like thrashing him up, bullying him or even drowing him in the Arabian ocean (Sea, i know it, alright). Maybe, he is an angel at heart , but mind you, you are never going to forgive him, luring your heart out of the body’s reach . For gals, if the guy who stole your heart is doing the same, its all swollen eyes and damp cheeks.

Furthermore, is there something called true love? Or is just the lust or infatuation?
When you say ‘ I love you’ to a gal, do you really mean it? Or is it just for the sake of having fun? And my dear gals, please mean it when you do the same. Don’t be mean.

The heart says to approach any girl just because of the fact that a look from her gives you butterflies in your stomach.
The brain warns you that butterflies will fly away, but the lump of sorrow will remain forever.

Love often tends to go the heart’s way.
Mind you, being emotional rather than being rational will be one heavy price to pay for.

And if your response to me is ‘Mind your business, fatty. I know how I am and she’ll come to me if my love is true’, my reply will just be a wry sly smile.


A part of my life was throwing doldrums on me with its dishevelled look that wanted me to back off the war that I waged with it. Yet another part wanted to fight, resurrect from the ashes of the sins of the past and wage a war against the evil me. The good part in me wanted to triumph and the bad me wanted to slog and dint want me to recuperate from the point where I was clinging on.

To soothe the ailing mind, I really wanted a break. The short but sweet vacation really seemed to serve the purpose. Munching on goodies despite having a very ‘petite’ frame, was just the right thing to do inside the theatre especially you have got nothing better to do than watching an awesomely boring movie. The journey, be it in the rickety rackety old bus that swayed last bus riders like in a water bike or in the air conditioned car that provided seating from which metal and cushioned parts poked into the you-know-where are all parts in life worth relishing when you get screwed by profs from all sides. The cold air from the AC vents and light music playing from the car music system had done its job.

A journey makes you learn things. Wandering in the city, fascinated by the lights and its grandeur, my eyes rested on the real India. The revelation of what the life of people were, those living in absolute poverty and in conditions unimaginable to us who leads a life devoid of peripheral miseries.

The quote of Gandhiji ‘India lives in her villages’ felt a bit out of context here. The real Indian is what we see in the urban slums. An evident eye-opener for me, among others who are yet to understand how fortunate you are and yet cribbing on what you do not have. Thank Him and count your blessings.

Well, everything happens for a cause. Causes that can make you work it out for an effect.

Life Aghast!

It has been more than 3 long weeks since my fingers went into the rhythm of feeling the keys of my prodigiously insane lappy. All these days were spent either on memorizing the ways on how I would create my own brand on the shelves of some crappy department store where idiotic consumers would shed out their hard earned bucks for getting themselves robbed or creating balance sheets and P/Ls which never bothered to balance at all.
These were the days where I developed a inclination towards creating (or rather fooling) consumers and had bred a contempt to all numbers in the world, thanks to the unscrupulous tallying prowess I possessed. 

So, my days of freedom, I thought was just a falsified veil of happiness. From the day I reached home, time was passing as if it was just the duration of a wink of the eye. With this thought in mind, I was just lying low, or rather was made to lie low as the happiness and feelings of being home was dampened as I tore days off from the calendar.

The journey seemed ages to finish reaching back to place of wonders, taking into account when things of that sort seemed happening.

What lay in front of me seemed to be vast as an ocean, what life had to offer seemed to be mysterious and it is when I felt that it is just going to get fine in a matter of time. Like everyone, I have been thinking to take studies seriously. It has been years and years of resolution, which seemed like a promise unkempt.

The extreme warfare I had done with books made remind myself of wounded soldier on the battleground, eager to leave the field into the comfy warmth of the bed at home had to offer. But the warrior in me wanted to wage more battles, which I was sure that would rip open the unhealed wounds of the wars of the yesteryear.

Hostel ka Pehla Din

Disclaimer: All characters here are real time living people. To protect their identity, names have been omitted!!!


A notification on Facebook! I felt like getting the first drops of rain on a barren land. With hours of sitting in front of my laptop and doing nothing other than switching windows from Assassin’s Creed and Facebook, I got a response from the virtual world.

Ezio was not able to progress the mission to obtain the Apple of Eden and none of my friends on the other side of the virtual world seemed existent.

The notification glowed red and the mouse pointer moved in haste to open up the hidden treasure wrapped within.

The page moderator had accepted my entry into the institute’s FB page.
It would be the start to networking with peers, all of whom I believe would be along with me, from the time of entry to the corporate world to, well only God knows till when.

Around 50 members were there in the community, all involved in heated arguments regarding whether to join or not.

My entry time seemed good. They were involved in shooting questions about whereabouts of alumni, placement prospects, college facilities and last but not least ‘daaru’ availability and opportunities.

Scrolling through the page, I felt the urge to check out who all were going to be seated besides me in the large amphitheater styled classrooms (I got this news from the that heated argument)

The next click opened up to the world of my ‘future classmates’. As a normal human being, first thing as any man would do, I too did the same- eve hunting. With the satisfaction of spotting a couple of good looking ones, I did what the next top priority ought to be- searching people from the God’s own country. My eyes went from top to bottom of the page searching in vain until I found a name resembling a local name. To confirm, I entered into the person’s personal virtual space earmarked for the public.

He was from my own state, lived almost 5 kms from the place where I previously lived and studied in one of the most prestigious schools of that particular city. Thus went the click on the ‘add friend’ link, the first friend request to the my soon-to-be classmates.

One minute passed, two minutes passed. Poof came the change in the notification tab. Mr. Local had accepted my friend request. After a short Hi and Hello, followed by small intros from both sides, we bade each other goodbye and went on with our own piece of life.

Soon, my cursor point went and clicked many a ‘add friend’ tabs and it seemed many of them too did the same. Friend requests were piling in and after a long time, my FB was active. Really active.

Chats and discussions seemed to make that miles apart feeling nearer and nearer.

The day was nearing and the threshold of excitement was at its peak. Everyone was thrilled on the prospect of meeting and making new friends, intended for a lifetime.

As the days got closer, more and more people were joining the group. My friend list was filling in with new faces. These new faces, within a small span of time became close buddies. You never know, meeting people from Srinagar, Guwahati, Thiruvananthapuram and Ahmedabad , whom you would be meeting in person in a few days seemed fun. All of them would soon be under one roof, fighting the way out to the make it to the other side victoriously.

But the flipside was that the thrill and excitement of meeting new people has died down and meeting the bodily incarnation of the virtual existences has sprouted up.

As excited as excited can be, I packed my bags and set forth to the new destination. My mobile was constantly beeping with real-time updates of group check-ins at various airports in the country. Their friend from the south too boarded the flight with the zeal of best hopes and expectations.

At the gates!!

The gate was wide open and I set foot on the place where, life was to happen for the next 2 years.

I walked with my documents towards the door of the most happening place of the 1st day. The registration room.

The door was slightly ajar. I walked into the amphitheater styled room and over a 100 pair of eyes made contact with this towering personality. I scanned the room and caught the eye of many of the familiar faces I knew from the virtual world.

Post registration, I was struggling to get all luggage from the taxi and get them to my room. Somehow, all that occupied the boot was hauled upstairs and was to occupy the dingy downstairs of my cot. After the last bit of cloth found its place in the cupboard, I dragged myself to visit the dining hall for a cup of coffee, just for that little bit of caffeine.

Climbing down the stairs and walking to get my caffeine boost, all I saw was not new faces, but faces that were very much known to me, on the virtual world.

Distances seemed inexistent in the world that is so connected. People seemed close in the virtual realm and never so outside.

Walking towards dining hall, I was all praises for the virtual world and was getting ready to face the real world which would soon be unleashing its wrath upon the innocent and unsuspecting.