You don't realize what you've got... until its gone!

Her absence is disquieting, the silence is deafening. Initially you hurrah her exit - finally you can do what you please - but it only takes a few lonely hours to snap out of your reverie, suddenly realizing there's pin-drop silence in the house. I don't like it. It renders me restless and cranky. Just like Kamal Hasan in that brilliant movie 'Pushpak' who couldn't sleep without the theatre's loud acoustics running in the background, I need Mom's voice ringing in my head, else it makes me uneasy - her rattling out a thousand instructions, yapping with the maid and relaying endless orders at the speed of 100 orders/min, talking loudly on the phone with her friends, yelling at me since I won't help her out in the kitchen, snapping at me coz I ate out again, complaining to me coz she fought with sis once more, emotionally blackmailing me to consider that 'perfect match' again..... I miss all that! In normal circumstances, I'd be mighty annoyed with her for being such a motormouth. But when she's away, even for a few days, she is sorely missed.

That brings me to a more important question - whatever am I going to do when I move away from home, from her? I realize I am SO dependent on Mom for so many things. Piping hot and lovingly prepared dinner is ready for me when I reach home from work, my bed is reset and my room is neat and in order. I am coerced to eat more, something that I would certainly give a miss when she's not around. A patient ear is also offered, which I gladly accept, in order to recount the day's highs and lows. But all this may very well come to an end. Soon I may have to be on my own. It frightens me to think of how I shall cope. The prospect of departing from under her wings is scary, yet unavoidable.

I don't know why I am missing her so dearly this time around. This is the perhaps the umpteenth time that I am alone at home while Mom has gone away for a while. Maybe its only normal. Or maybe its the looming near of that one important day in every girl's life. The day when she has to leave her home of 25-odd years and shift base to another. I wonder how Mom did it. Or any other woman for that matter. It is a terrifying thought. Maybe I should adopt Mr. Hasan's ways. A recorder will be of great service, for starters.

All Work, no Play

September has been pretty uneventful so far, which means I jabber a lot less on this over-worked page. Worked my arse off during the first half, following which I can now give a discourse on Swiss private banks and banking secrecy (provided anyone wants to hear it); cursed MTNL as they delivered poor triband service once again (they are so predictable! Of the 24 days in this month, I had access for only 5) and reached level 129 in Mafia Wars (ho-hum; yes, I am a sworn-addict!) . The only highlight was the arrival of my Macbook Pro. Yes, it is indeed everything it promises to be. And much more. Everything else (read Windows & desktop PCs) pales in comparison. Now only if I could replace the dabba PC at work with the Macbook, I would breeze through my assignments! Sigh.... if wishes were horses!!

Speaking of work, completed 2 years at Deutsche Bank now. Although it seems more morbid as I write it, the feeling is nothing of that sort. It seems like just yesterday when I stepped into the huge, imposing office - a nervous girl, full of apprehension of how things will turn out. It was only my first job. However, the experience has been fun, rewarding and I can confidently say, I am much wiser than the ignoramus I was 2 years back ;) Made some friends here, learnt a lot and generally kept myself away from office-politics and trouble (yes, I'm an insufferable bore). Not to mention, the paycheck I take home every month. That's the best and most fulfilling part of this job! Come to think of it, it is for any job!

It is only apt I upload some pics of work. Here they are, the second one was taken chupke se - it is strictly prohibited to take snaps of the office premises:

I know, I know - my desk's laden with girly stuff. But I like to come to an adorned desk every morning. Helps me cheer up! Oh, and everyone thinks its the neatest desk in the place. The Virgo (and OCD) in me is proud!

Its SO hard to click a picture of the office premises (this is only part of it)- what with Hitler-like security guards baying for any camera-click-happy enthusiast. But I managed to sneak out a quick snap anyway, when the guard was looking away!

PS: Now that I've waxed eloquent 'bout my work, can I get that raise please?

Living Dangerously

The sight was chilling. From the corner of my car's windshield, I saw the mangled remains of what was once a motorbike. The mishap must've occurred minutes before I reached the spot. Pieces of glass and metal were strewn everywhere. Somewhere under the mass of twisted metal lay a man, but only a bloodied arm was visible. It wasn't moving. My heart skipped a beat on watching the ghastly scene in front of me. The sight of blood - gushing out uninterrupted - was rather unsettling. While fervently wishing the driver had survived this terrible accident, several questions immediately popped in my mind - WHY do these bikers drive the way they do? WHY do they risk their lives by speeding like maniacs-on-wheels? WHY do they try to overtake the vehicle in front (from the left side) without giving any indication whatsoever, despite there being very little space to manoeuvre ? WHY do they zip past vehicles in rash zig-zags, with every turn potentially perilous enough to go horribly wrong? WHY do they drive inches close to the vehicle alongside - at risk of making contact with the vehicle any moment? WHY WHY WHY???

No doubt they are cheaper and more convenient than their larger four-wheeled counterparts, but I personally feel two-wheelers are the most dangerous inventions ever created for roads. The entire concept is based on balancing a vehicle that is probably 4 times heavier than you are! At blazing speeds, the slightest contact with another vehicle or a minor oil-spill on the road is enough to render the bike to turn turtle and the cause immense injury, even death. Several lives and limbs are being lost due to such mishaps everyday. Bikes are extremely unsafe and hazardous modes of transport and sureshot disasters-waiting-to-happen for the more reckless lot of drivers.

That one unfortunate sight was enough to make me swear off motorbikes or any other biped. It may not for the others, the ones who live life on the edge, who think they can get away with such brash daredevilry. However, today I make a heartfelt plea to all such motorists - please DO NOT drive amok like someone possessed. Whatever it is that requires your attention - be it at home or work - it is NOT worth your life. Neither does whizzing about at top speeds render you a heartthrob of your locality/city/nation. Live a little less dangerously. Value your lives. We all have short ones anyway.

On a lighter note - here is a bumper sticker (crude painting, rather) that I spotted on a rickety tempo plying the roads. Now if only all of us could adopt this chap's spirits!

The wise words: मालिक का दौलत, ड्राईवर का पसीना - रोड पे चलती है बनके हसीना! (LOL!)