SECRET LIFE OF MY ALTER EGO

I have been known to excel in my academics right from the day I stepped foot in school. That’s the projected self I show to the world. But, not many people know about my alter egos. You know they say, “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned.” Like any other human being, toppers/chubby girls go through heart breaks as well. And mind you, if they are broken repeatedly for no fault of theirs, they can come back and bite you real hard. I have learned to let go a lot of these things, especially when I realize there was no bad breath behind it and it was purely a figment of my imagination.

There is a difference between having a split personality and an alter ego. In split personality, the two personalities have distinctive memories. That just means that the two personalities are not aware of each other’s existence. Alter ego is attained in full consciousness. It’s just a way of expressing yourself or projecting yourself in comparison to your otherwise normal self. A good example would be Marshall Mathers who also goes by the name Eminem and Slim Shady. Over a couple of days, I figured out I have an alter-ego. What I project myself to the world is a girl who knows her shit, excels in academics, works and pays her bills on time. My real self, the artist inside me is always trying to come up with new ways to make my life interesting, I paint, I write, I make videos and try to make new friends. I read about spirituality and try to link everything with the planetary positions. In the hoard of making my life interesting, the badass inside me turns into a mad dog. I do things which people would not expect from someone like me. But that’s the fun part about it. You can do whatever you want keeping a straight face and no one knows. It’s fun to watch people lie when you know every bit of the truth. 

MONOLOGUE BY AN OLD SOUL

I keep saying this all the time. Things happen for a reason, everything falls in place when it has to. No misery no hardship will go away from your life till it teaches you a lesson. In times of distress, always hum your best lullaby. My life has taught me nothing more than what yours must have, but when I think of it, I feel like I have lived for a very long time. Not here, not in this age, but many ages. I have gathered knowledge that I am yet to remember. I don’t know if I will be able to remember it in this life. But, I know I will when I have to, when I am supposed to, when it’s required to be remembered.

Life is a waste if you don’t fall in love. Love inspires you like no other emotion. It makes you achieve things no common man would even dream of achieving. Things you won’t do for yourself, you won’t shirk from doing it for someone you love. You can dance to the tunes of that emotion. Your heartbeat turns into a rhythm you can’t ignore. It’s an addiction that beats every other addiction. You feel like painting, dancing, writing, singing and much more than that. If you haven’t experienced love you still don’t know what it is to live with a soul.

Soulmate is a concept very few understand. Every soul has a soulmate. You meet your soulmate only when you reach the end of your journey and it’s time for you to return to the soul realm. That’s when our twin soul comes to us to take us back home. The people you meet till then are just allies that came to help you complete your journey. Bear with them, understand what lessons they have to teach you. We all are just fragments of the same element. Whether we realize it or not, we all are connected. Some connections are stronger than others because like atoms with valence electrons, we all have something to offer to each other. The strength of the bond depends on how many valence electrons are participating in making the bond.

Time is a concept, the fact that it doesn’t wait for anyone is a myth. Instead, time is an entity that remains in space and we keep moving forward from one plane to another. We can move back and forth and live the moments again, alter them, but we are yet to remember “How”. We are a living inside a time machine and mind can travel faster than light. So wait, ponder and absorb as much as you can from your current situation. Progress of tomorrow is remembering knowledge which was forgotten yesterday. 

BROKEN TOYS

She walked, shattered and unconscious of where she was going. She kept thinking about what could have gone wrong, why nothing ever goes as planned. She was not at fault, yet the guilt card was played on her. For some strange reason, she always attracted persecution. Ruminating, she kept walking, looking for someone to understand what she was thinking. She didn’t have the energy and the patience to explain and justify what she was going through.

She was distracted by the door that stood right in front of her. She didn’t realize she entered the service quarters. She was far too disturbed by her thoughts to bother about finding her route back home. She sat there and got lost in her thoughts once again.

After what felt like eternity, she saw someone coming her way through the gate. “Hi! Are you looking for somebody?” The strange girl looked into her eyes and tried to read her thoughts. “No. I was a little tired so I came to sit here for some time.” “But I thought you had been sitting here since morning.” “Has it been that long? I think I should leave then.” “It’s okay. You can come in with me. Eat something and then leave.” “Do you stay here? I thought it had been locked down for ages.” “This property is owned by my Father. I just come here to collect letters. Come on in.”

They both chatted for some more. She poured her heart out to the stranger, but not once did her pain go down. “You know you need to relax and stop thinking about everything so much.” They both got up and started taking a stroll around that place. It was huge towards the backside of the house. It looked like a whole different world with green lushes and open blue sky. “I have never seen a place like this here. Is this the only way to come here?” “Yeah! This place is only for the service quarters. Whenever I am bored I come here and lie down on the grass. Let me show you something interesting.”

She took her to a broken well kind of thing. “OMG! It’s so deep. I can’t even say if there is water inside this.” “This well has been there from a long time. My grandfather used to get me here and bathe. But now it doesn’t hold water. Hey! Do you want to go inside? There is a stair that leads right till the bottom of the well.” “Are you mad? Who plays that kind of a game?” “There is no harm. In earlier days they used to throw coins in the wells and wish for something. Who knows we might find some antique stuff to add to our collection. The service quarters have been there since the age of Britishers. And who knows, this well might be even older than that.” “I don’t like the sound of it, but okay. Let’s take a look. But I will go deeper down only as long as I can see the light above.”

The lower down she went, the darker it got. She kept going down till the last ray of light when finally her feet touched the ground. “With that light, I can’t see anything here. I need a torch light.” She switched on her mobile flash light. The well had anything but antique. It was full of dead meat that probably lost its way when it was alive. “Hey! I am not getting a good feeling about this thing. Let’s go back.” She came back out of the well and flashed the torch light for her friend. There was no sign of her. “Bitch! She must have chickened out in the beginning.”

She started walking back to where she was going. The best thing about this entire exercise was, she forgot about the thoughts that kept haunting her. The pain somehow reduced. It was as if she couldn’t feel her heart running any more. As peaceful as it was to walk under the street light, she didn’t notice she didn’t have a shadow. 

MADNESS BEHIND THE BRAND SRK

October 13, 11:00 a.m. in the morning, I finished with my mid-sem, proceeding towards my scooty I heard a gang of first years shouting, “SHAHRUKH is coming in DB Mall.” Blimey!! I thought. Isn’t he like, 45 years old now? Why is everybody getting mad about somebody who is most eligible to adopt them, rather marrying? It’s not like it was the very first time a film-star was coming to Bhopal, not after Prakash Jha’s Rajneeti and Aarakshan, no sir. Overlooking our unconcerned notions, I and my friends decided to be the part of the hysteria and we reached the venue by 11:30.

“No entry without the pass”, one of the black cat security personnel confirmed. Whomsoever we tried to call who could possibly have had the passes was either unavailable or busy. No luck. Waiting for another hour there were only two of us left now, while the other gang members went home irritated by the heat and the tickling sweat. Reluctant to go before Shahrukh does, we squatted there in the middle of the road, while the onlookers passed, commenting on what not. Anything for Shahrukh was the attitude we carried throughout the euphoria and jubilation. Hardly half an hour had crawled when the security officials and the riots control department had taken over the crowd. People were running in our direction and the guards were charging them with lathis. Panic struck we found a place to hide among a group of females not wanting to be victimized by the raining stones. After all the rage and chaos we decided to get our senses back and chuck the SRK craze. There were yet more things to do in life before getting crushed in a stampede.

1:30 p.m. we went to relax inside a cafeteria stacked with the SRK fans. The only LCD in there was constantly showing his movie songs and Ra.One previews. Taking the mind off from the loudspeaker, no luck though as there had been the public for King Khan who talked nothing beside him and the promos. We chucked the chuck the SRK craze and went all the way back to become a part of the crowd again. He had already come by then and we were dying to get a glimpse of him even from a distance of 1000 feet from the balcony of the Mall. After 3 more hours of constant waiting and hiding here and there to save ourselves from the lathis and stones, it was no use standing there anymore as SRK had already left, somebody told us coming out of the Mall. “What!! He left?”

Still not in mood to go back home after waiting for 7 hours and 7 missed calls from home, waiting for the crowd to disperse when finally the crowd roared with madness again.

YES!!! IT WAS SRK ON THE BALCONY.

No kidding, 7 proved to be the lucky number. First time in my life I saw a filmstar even though from a distance, and that too SHAHRUKH. 15 minutes he stood there trying to please each and every person in that gathering, sometime dancing, at times giving his favourite pose, waving at the crowd in every direction possible. We were not less than 200 meters away from him and my friend had        already started waving at him like a drug edict maniac. I saw what she was doing and as I gathered my attention back at him, I saw him doing the same actions. For a moment I couldn’t believe what had happened.

“HE ACTUALLY WAVED AT US. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

 Those 15 minutes washed all the fatigue of waiting wearily to get just one glimpse of him. Shear frenzy was that. I didn’t get the night’s sleep before I wrote this down and called and told almost every single friend of mine who was an SRK fan. The insanity for the name SRK proves the very own statement of Shahrukh Khan, “I am not Shahrukh Khan, rather I work for the brand Shahrukh Khan.” Best wishes for Ra.One.

P.S. I am going to watch it fist day first show.      

LIVING THE DREAM OF UTOPIAN INDIA

 16th august 2011, after celebrating our 65th independence anniversary and a three day holiday, I was in no mood to go to college on Tuesday morning. Spick and span as I came out of my room, I got a full 5 min lecture on early to bed and early to rise, even after getting up at 6:00 am in the morning. Had getting up early made someone rich then the milkman should have been a millionaire.The newspaper boy was late and my father was restless for his morning call had been delayed yet again. “Somebody should teach these Indians the accent of time management. “ By the time he realised that it was a national holiday yesterday and that his time management lecture to the newspaper boy would have to wait another 24hrs, I was done with my morning chores and was ready to ride off on my 90cc.

Bhopal has always been a city where people aced in breaching the law even if it was a mere traffic rule which meant no harm to follow.

“Where is your helmet? Park your vehicle this side and show me your license.”

Out came a Rs 500 note travelling a distance of a few inches from the blue denim pocket to the Khaki Uniform. “You may go”, insinuated constable Mahesh Sharma. “And be careful next time. You are the future of our country.” Too right you were Sharmaji. He is the past present and the abominable future of Incredible India which was worth a Rs 500 bill. 

Waiting for my friend on that wretched Underbridge as it was drizzling after the heavy rain a few hours back, I had the usual sight of hawkers pulling out the drowning vehicles from the puddle. Oh no, it is never free of cost. Had it been so, why would they have endeavoured to block the drain pipe near the bridge thus ceasing the exhibit? This was not something conspicuous for me in my three years of college life when I had to nearly fight with TVS service station to get a proper servicing for my oil oozing Scooty which used to worsen every next servicing only to get the thing done by a mechanic near the University gate who was able to provide ‘customer satisfaction’ in less than an hour.

There were 20 more girls in the class and some of the boys were sitting outside.“I hope you guys know what Anna Hazare is doing for our country. We are supporting his efforts against corruption. I request you to join us outside the University gate for the protest”, the guy in black kurta advertised in our class.

“Whoopee!! No class today.” 

The boys got away with the class and so did another 8 hours from our education. I was surfing my Facebook account which was filled with status updates from almost every single active person on my friend-list, supporting Anna Hazare or protesting against corruption. Notifications and page request from all the more communities of Annaji flooded the count from the average 3 or 4 to 65 that day. Out of the blue, somewhere in the middle of those updates were two most absurd, one by Premanshu about the facts and figures of Bengali NRIs and their richness to which they were proud of and the other by Prajapati about the NO BAR, NO POWER CUT and 100% women education policy of the Gujarati Samaj. I never understood why Indians were so keen in associating themselves with small groups derived of their genes.

As I studied all my notification the list for PSU’s shortlisted candidates was out and I knew my name was not in that list as I happened to be in the unreserved half of the society in addition to not being in the top 10. Not 1% was I deplorable for the alluded quota. I had backups being the progeny of a businessman who had no problem monetizing my GRE scores. Yes, that is the most favourable solution someone of my background adopts and for the time being it was. But should this scenario continue with the technocratic brain drain and the declining masses of educationalist who find more acknowledgements abroad, I hope the demolishing image of Indian education system doesn't recognize us as illiterate, viruses of corruption. The so called favourable solution would then turn into a bane should we abhor to educate our own people to lead a white collared life under white man’s burden. The dream of utopia will be lost in history as a recapitulated yet thwarted attempt.

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CRAZY DAYS

8:45 in the morning I could hear her phone ringing. God knows what this girl does all morning. Another day she let us late and she is dead.

“Hello?”

“Hello! Gappy? Chalein?”

“Head out in 2.5 minute”

“I never understand why you always have to give such exact calculations when you are precisely 15 minutes late every day.”

“When you know it, why do you ask every day?”

“Shut up and be quick.”

“Okay”

I know there is no scope of improvement in her timing but I don’t know why I have such high hopes for her waiting for that one day when she would come on time that I end up on that stenchy under bridge only to wait for 15 minutes when she comes waving her hand. Her scooty, nearly gliding with the wind, as with a framework like hers’ even a zephyr would be enough to blow her to half a meter.

“How long have you been waiting?”, I bet she ever asked that as if she actually meant to know.

“Not long. Just came now.” Even if I did tell her I came 10 minutes before what difference was it goanna make for her. After three long years of experience I had finally lost hope of reaching early in class for once.

“May we come in sir?” Though I always cursed Sneha for getting us late for the first class I understood probably 15 minutes late in Raghuvanshi Sir’s mundane Mobile Communication class was a much better option.

“Come in”

I wondered if someday he would say, “What is the use of that watch on your hand when you don’t use it?” Not to mention Sneha’s watch was 5minutes faster than mine.

I could see Swapnil and Apoorva striving hard to pull back their smiles. “Can’t you two come a little early? Why should we save a seat for you every day? Shameless buggers”, Apoorva blurted.

“Shut up Appu,” out came a unanimous scorch.

“It’s your duty to save us a seat.”

“Yes, one day when you will come late and we come early, even we will save a seat for you.”

I raised an eye on Sneha. "Gappy, don’t give hypothetical examples."

Raghuvanshi continued with his usual harassment of English. I might have tried some weird stunts in my college life trying to test my aural powers. From one ear striving to hear what the person on the podium was saying and from the other getting all those reasons to why Munni Bai came late to wash the dishes and why Sneha had to wait for her to leave before she could ride off.  

“May I come in Sir?”  No matter how late we were, Saleha made sure she came after us not to break the convention of our arrivals. And I could see 100 eyes darting in her direction which she had got used to by the time. I suggest modelling companies should consider hiring average heighted pertaining to the lack of beauty over boldness. If something like this can be implemented she will definitely prove to be a good model material.

After 30 minutes of hard luck I decided to give both my ears some rest. Apoorva and Saleha were discussing some serious issue I could make out from the lack of prompt answers from Apoorva in between the class. After discussing about it for some time they got up from their seats approaching Raghu.

“Sir, I am not feeling well. I keep on coughing all the time.”

“WHAT... you were laughing?” I knew he was a little off beaten with English, but I never thought he might be even impaired with the language. Still I could beat anyone crossing the corridor just outside might not have heard the loud burst of cackle coming from ECE 2008-12 batch.

“No sir, I said I was coughing.”

“Cough outside the window and drink some water you will be alright.” Okay so the cackle was back and as it settled Raghuvanshi gave a stupid grin, “okay, go.” I know Appu would have shattered his teeth if it wasn’t for her grades and just one more year ahead to finally leave this downmarket environment.

I wondered how come she so badly had to go to pee in the first period itself. OH...so you thought she was actually not feeling well because of coughing. Well it was partly true. How can anyone feel well in this condition?

50 minutes of Project Management lecture was more of a speedy writing practice more so often bombarding with the heavy business vocabulary. Sheeba believed in making final year students stand like school kids for every small thing even if you want to ask if you can ask your partner what she dictated just then. I get so emotional in her class, filled with the nostalgia of my days in primary, part of which I don’t even remember. Sheeba continued with her seemingly but not so crammed short notes,” The most important principle of cOntrol (with a double ‘au’ sound). .........”

“Oye......what have you brought for lunch?”

“I don’t know.....beans...maybe.”

“What.....again? Fuck you Vasu.”

“Same to you. What have you got?”

“Aloo ki sabzi. Oye, look around and tell me where Juzar is sitting.”

“Gappy, will you please use the codeword. By the way 5.5 (it’s not five point five please, its sadhe panch. Don’t spoil the spirit of the code.) is sitting right beside you.”

And so she removed her specs trying to get a glance from the corner of her eye. Okay look, we are not serious about anyone till date, but you know what they say,” thodi der ke liye kisi or gaadi me baithna paap hai kya?” Some times hindi movies can be a good source of Tag lines. Thanks to NO ENTRY.

“Stand up and give your roll calls.”

“Oh wow...period khatam. Yippee”, but only so long till Yadav sir came to teach neural networks.

“Shit...Is it going to be Brain Dead Networks? Gappy.....I am going to faint. Quick take me to Amer Bakery Hut. I am getting weak. I need butter chicken.”

“I want to go to pee. Cough..cough..see even I am coughing. I am also not feeling well.” Off with our over acting I turned around to see Swapnil all alone in her hot seat. I smiled at her. She gave a blink and a grin that didn’t last for even 5 secs as if someone just clicked a picture of hers and then she returned back to her newspaper. That was one thing I often tried reading every morning but only half of the front page got the fling to input my neural networks not more so often like they changed the weights of Manudev’s who was also preparing for UPSC just like Lovee.

Till the time we reach our fourth and final period everyone is exhausted....I mean half of the initial number of people left in the class out of which some left after the first period itself and some attended only the second and third period. I took a pen from my bag and started scribbling on the table.

“What are you doing? Writing that joker’s name again are you?”

                                          

“He is not a joker. He is better than any other boy in this institute.”

You see, since I am writing this story I am not gonna tell you who the person whose name I was scribbling, is. But probably half the people who will read it will already know and half of you would have guessed it wrong

 “Appu’s hairs are looking nice today.”

“Hmmm...even Siya’s are looking good.”

“They look good every day. Appu’s is something new for a change.”

“Poor Appu....there is some or the other problem with her every time. Now that she has become thin her eye sight betrayed, fighting with the spectacles every time she is.”

“So the Jhad akshish and bhay akshish............” it was hard to concentrate on what other boys were doing when Sangeeta was disturbing consistently with her Antenna theory. What is the use of attending the lecture when 3/4^th of the course is for us to complete. If we are capable enough to study 3 parts, then I think we can manage 1 more part as well. By the way this is only till the minors are ahead. One week before minors we are rushing to Mata Mandir to get her notes photo copied and then calling each and every possible source to get an idea as to the head or toe of the Photostat.

“Chalein ghar?” Appu always wants to reach home before someone even says Bye.

“Wait. First let’s finish our Tiffin.”

It’s my bad luck whenever I bring beans for lunch, no body considers to even touch it and that reduces the count of lunch boxes to three as Appu seldom ushers hers when it is a half day.

“Oye.....I want to become Daddy for once”, I hit up for.

“No, I am Daddy”, Sneha claimed.

“You have been Daddy for last one year. Now it’s my turn.”

In the middle of the whole conversation Swapnil’s voice came out, “Arey....first tell me if I have been reproduced or not? One day I am your child the other day I am back in the embryo stage.”

“Shut up. Bacche badon ke beech me nahi bolte. First let us decide who is going to be your mummy and daddy, and then we will decide when to reproduce you.”

No ..no..this is not another case of homosexuality. It’s just one of our sick games that we play to make a monotonous college life a little fascinating. Okay I agree it’s more than sick, kind of mental.

The tiff between me and Gappy continued till we reached our scootys. I guess we have been fighting for daddy’s post since I don’t know when, not to mention the constant reproduction and embryonisation of Swapnil whenever we wished.

“You know what”, Appu changed the topic, “that ‘kala kauva’ was teasing Makhi by fevi’s name when they were sitting together.”

I came up with my usual despo remark, “shit man! I wish I was sitting with Vikalp. When will that day come when somebody will tease me by another boy’s name?” All three of them started laughing as if I knocked a joke. Nobody takes me seriously. Father forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.

“Kisi ko to chhod de Kamini.” Out came a unanimous comment and the chuckle continued.

It was getting late so we headed off with our vehicles as usual all five of us blocking the road while the entire lane in front of MANIT blurted with loud Beeps.

On my way home I took a turn from RRL and we bid goodbye to each other.

“BYE POO...”

“BYE SU...”

Without that final touch the day would have been incomplete. And so I went on that broken path anticipating another day like this which wouldn’t last long, but just for another year when this whole system will throw us into different walks leaving us pining for a reunion which might not happen for a decade. And even when it does happen, I am not sure Gappy would still want to fight for becoming Daddy when her husband would be standing beside her or even Swapnil who will be apprehensive to call us Mummy Daddy in front of her subordinates when she becomes an IAS.  

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