Bizarre Frequencies

Jab AN aur AN ke beech mein J aata hai tab ANJAN banjata hai

Friday, June 23, 2006


  • My body has been a store house of germs. It kickedoff with bactermia a month back and now virus. Attached with typhoid due to the former, now its a viral fever with the later. All thanks to typhoid that I had to extend my trip in India.
  • With mercury level souring at 102 (or in flames) i have better reasons to feel home sick. Im mostly in somnolence with the help of the damn soporific drugs that ive been taking.
  • Ive been here for a week now; havent started work yet. I foresee an arse whipping-grinding-boring-milling-sawing-drilling-whatever weeks ahead. I need to talk to my boss, about lots of things- one major thing. Im just sodding myself right now. I need to throw away this detritus.
  • Im bugging people on YM, on orkut, everywhere. I just need to see them online that ive been humping on them. I sincerely apologise to all my YM-ites; and since i havent felt a bit of remorse yet, as a word of caution i suggest you to remain invisible to me. Or have you been persistent?
  • Had problems in settingup an account on orkut. It had screwedup my old profile which was going really fine and now wasnt allowing me to create a new one. Any google guys listening? And got pissed when my stupid friend who had written the first scrap and deleted it. I freaked!
  • I lost a whole set of pics of india. I dont know if it is misplaced or formatted without storing. It had my best friends wedding snaps, my long-hair, snaps clicked when my german friends visited, pics with Annie, ones with Nithya and Pranitha, Manju and Soumya, and most importantly my creative photography in capturing the paneer tikka.
  • I had been listening to desi music so much in india, ive temporarily lost my flavour for english music. Radio Mirchi and Radio City played it non-stop, i played them non-stop; and to complement that i content myself by listening to desi internet radio. But still RM rocks!! ... its sakkath hot maga.
  • For two months my mobile was givingout sounds like never before. Used to get either an sms or a call impeccably every 15 or 20 mins; which has put me into the rote of checking it every hour. Now my mobile is back to its rote of an alarm clock....*sigh*
  • I miss my everyday morning walk with my 77 year old grandpa, and the chess games i used to lose. We used to talk a lot of stuff. He used to teach me (or atleast make an attempt of teaching) life. But i couldnt learn, and nobody would until they age to his. And how I had to repress my tears when he told me that i was best among the grandchildren after what i did - nobody had taken him to movie theatre since 2 years. Oh yeah.... I should also mention about the girl i was checking during the walk.
  • Yeah..... the coolest and the most handsome guy ive known, Rishabh, my 8 months old nephew is not around anymore. We were an awesome twosome playing with eachother, putting eachother to sleep, dancing eachother. Leaving him was like leaving a piece of my heart back there.
  • The most I miss is my satellite aka mom. Satellite because she kept me under strict surveillance the whole of two months. I had to tell her where, with whom and why i have to go out and also tell her when im back, plus intermediate checks and getting yelled at if i come late without informing her before. And the phone calls... uff, she knows it if its a female and if i time more than 10 minutes, she would come, give that stare. But the satellite isnt satellite anymore. She is not there like before to sit me up and make me take the pill, maintain a log of my body temperature, give me the ice pack, touch my forehead and see how im faring. Infact when i had typhoid, she slept beside me till i was completely fit and i could feel her getup at 3 am, touch my forehead, cover me completely with the bedsheet and make sure everything is in order. Not once but always. She is the best MOM and i miss my satellite.

Music: Hum Hain Iss Pal Yahan- Kisna

Posted by anjan :: 6:18 PM :: 23 comments

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Saturday, June 17, 2006

Coming back to the square thing!!

I landed(finally!!) to this so called home on wednesday evening. While I was sailing in air over thousands of meters above ground, was wondering what to call home. I would startoff a conversation with my folks in india saying `Back home..... ´ and the vice versa here. But then, I would like to believe that Bangalore is my "home" and nothing else. Thats where ive put my life all the time. Sometime its like prostitution, because we take something origional and honest and use it. But im back; back to germany to continue what im supposed to. Back home I had to share time with others, and now a 20 houred travel has turned the tables to isolation. Its like the characters have been disconnected and disabled. Its like how the artist has to breathe in when someone tightens a corset on to her and she gets used to it.

Sitting at the düsseldorf railway station and waiting for the train to arrive to get to my city, there was this episode. Flipping through the pages of a book i noticed an old lady sit on the chair next to mine. She asked me if it was english or dutch as the language wasnt quite familiar to her. That kick-started a conversation between us, while I also wanted to know how deep my german would have slipped after two months of absolutely not lipping a word of it. I had a rough start but it soothened after a while. With an english book in my hand and luggage stacked beside me she was sure that I was a brown skin from england who has come here to cheer their team for the world cup. She didnt know Indians spoke good english before i corrected her. Lost in our conversation thirty minutes passed by when we could step into the train. Inspite of me insisting her to sit comfortably in the genreal compartment, she accompanied me in the luggage room. I knew its a One n half hour journey ahead and she would have lots to talk about. She spoke about her life, renaissanse, husband, people, kids, womanhood and much more. We heard drums rolling and people cheering; a group of youth who passed through the compartment cheering for germany. There was a football match due on against poland that day. Football has been larger than life in this part of the world. I told her that I might missout on some matches as I had given my TV away. It occured to her that she had a spare TV that I could take and keep it for myself. She gave me her address and asked me to come home and pickup the tv whenever I wanted to. Between our conversation she reminded my time and again I reminded her of her son; I am being really sweet to her unlike the german youth. Being overwhealmed I told her this is the way we´ve been taught in India. It was fifteen minutes for our destination and she started digging her hand bag looking for something. She takesout a 50 euro note and slides it into my shirt pocket. Shocked and confused I didnt know how to react. Impulsively I gave back the money to her and told her that i cant take it. Not hearing a word of mine she told me that she would be really upset if i wont take it. She convinced me by telling me that she is giving it to her son who is living miles away in argentina, and not me.
I found all this so bizarre. Im just a stranger, a brown skin, a foreigner to her and the amount of love and trust she showed on me was truly overwhealming. Would you offer a televison to a stranger? Give your address and number and invite him? Bless him and give him money?

Music: Lamha lamha - Gangster
Mood: Home-sick ; Mom-sick :(

Posted by anjan :: 10:08 AM :: 26 comments

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