In the year of our Lord 2010
February 5. Notably a Friday.
4:20 PM:
Much against the advise of my best friend, I feel the urge to drive almost 300 miles north west to Detroit, Michigan to meet an old mate who is in the US for the weekend. I must admit that I have butterflies in my stomach. I have shared my travel itinerary with the experienced road warriors at my work place and they reckon that this is a leaky and dodgy boat to cross the ocean. I check the weather radar and I fully understand a that a snowstorm of unparalleled magnitude is striking SW Pennsylvania amongst other places. That this disastrous blizzard will spread its fangs to Ohio and Michigan is unknown to me.
4:30 PM:
I misuse the uncertainty to my advantage and turn on the ignition of my Toyota Corolla 2002. I'm still undecided if I should take the 30 minute drive back home to Shadyside or pull out my GPS gizmo for an address in Detroit. I look at the brand new FM transmitter than I bought this afternoon at Walmart. I look at my industrial boots specially worn for the trip. I feel warm in my new American Eagle olive green jacket and I watch outside my windshield and it seems that all the snow from the Arctic and Antarctic are competing to hit the Pittsburgh ground with unequivocal ferocity. This is by far threatening to be the most nasty snowfall I can imagine at 40 degrees North latitude.
4:35 PM:
I munch on a Hershey's cream and cookies and feel bad about Cadbury's being bought by Kraft as my car gets heated and its time to get on the drive gear.
4:45 PM:
I am driving with the stupid thought that I might beat the storm as I head away from Pittsburgh. Contrary to my belief, it only gets worse. There is an instant and growing accumulation of snow on the pavement. The winds are strong enough to change the course of the vehicle and the snow has already made me lie at the mercy of treacherous skids, spins and may be break dance.
5:00 PM:
I am driving, rather, driving very cautiously past Beaver county and thinking if a U-turn will be a good option. Practically speaking, yes it will. I call my mate in Detroit and give him a brief on the weather extremes. He leaves it on me to make a decision.
5: 15 PM:
Only fools and horses will want to continue in this weather. I would like to think that I'm adventurous, resilient and brave. But perhaps, at this stage, these don't matter. I belong to first category (fools and horses) and I don't know which one of the two is more apt.
6:00 PM:
I am scared and on the ball. At the ropes. Holding to my steering wheel as if it were controlling my very existence and my legs are very sharp on the brakes. I cannot see any lanes, since the snow invasion has taken over the road. The damage is lock, stock and barrel.
6:30 PM:
Visibility ranges from a few meters to may be a kilometer. I should be talking in miles though. The snow has been howling producing sounds best suited for horror films. I discover that I'm among the handful of brave men and women who are driving on the road. For miles I see nothing except darkness and snow hitting the car at break neck speed. My windshield wiper has been working tirelessly.
7:00 PM:
I realise that I am driving in Ohio. Conditions have worsened. I have to stop the car since visibility is near zero as snow storm and wind gusts have made me question my survival chances. I put on a blue tooth device and answer phone calls from two friends who try to help me navigate and provide succour.
7: 30 PM:
I am driving with great difficulty and risk at nearly 35 miles per hour in the middle of the three lane road. The lanes markings are covered in heaps of snow and are invisible. So I don't know which lane my car is on. I encounter black ice and I try to apply brakes as a truck in front of me suddenly screeches to a halt. As I apply brakes, my vehicle skids and starts spinning to the right and I figure that I can't control it. I am now almost at a 180 degree to my original orientation. I find a 18 wheel truck almost at a mile away, heading towards to me. At good speed. Sweet mother o god. That's almost like death and me vis-a-vis. The truck shows no signs of deviating from its route to avoid a head on collision. I am close to getting bonneted. I gain control of my vehicle, turn on my high beam flash lights and accelerate towards the approaching truck at an angle. I accelerate to almost 45 miles per hour within seconds to avoid the monster truck hitting me. The monster and my car head past each other with a hairline separation and I almost ram into a massive mound of snow (nearly 4 feet) accumulated on a road divider. My car comes to a halt. The temperature is well below zero. Almost minus twenty degrees (-20 C) Celsius and I can feel sweat trickling down my forehead and spine. I take off my driving gloves, wipe out the grime on my eye brows and wonder about the mess I am in.
I turn on the two way blinkers and walk out of the car to inspect any damage.
7: 45 PM: I whisper a little prayer for some luck and I recall that I am supposed to live till 86. That's what many astrologers have told me. I take solace in the fact and evoke my spirits to get me going.As I slowly drive in the middle of the road, two huge trucks (18 wheels each) drive past me, on the either side of my car. I am certain that their speed was four times that of my car and they were engaged in a race. I felt dwarfed when the two of them simultaneously drove past on either side of the car. I am at a loss of words.
8: 15 PM:
I'm sipping some sort of coffee at a Starbucks in a plaza close to Cleveland, Ohio. I have to visit the loo multiple times for god knows what. After two large cups of coffee, the road warrior in me drags me back to my car. Once out of the plaza, I witness the tremendous pandemonium. The blinding snow dust is piercing into my eyes, so I have to cover them using my palm and run towards my car through a pile of snow. A lady, ahead of me, trips down as she tried to run towards her car. I try to lift her from the heap and she is more than thankful. I rush towards my car, try to clean my windshields using my handkerchief as fast as I can and rush to the petrol station to fill my tank to the gunwales.
9:50 PM:
As I am still reeling under the snow and trying not to die (reaching Detroit is the secondary objective), I answer a phone call and that affects my control on the vehicle and it skids again only to get hit into a divider, which is of course, covered with heaps of snow. I try to start again but I find that my vehicle is almost stuck into the snow rut. I come out of the car and try to push it whilst its on the neutral gear. I look helpless and pale as the winds and snow destroy the geography of my bare head and face. I try to look around for help. Not a soul. Not a passing vehicle. I feel like a small boat lost in the dark high seas without a glimmer of hope. I hit the bloody snow mound with my shoes in frustration. My hands feel numb and cold beyond human tolerance. I get back to my act again, with renewed energy. I try lifting the car from the bonnet side but its futile. I try pushing it with a lot of muscular force as I try to invoke the heavens, skies and celestial planets and beseech them for help. I crush my teeth against each other, my muscles go taut, I feel the nerves in my neck and forearms will pop out any moment as the west wind and snow continue to blast my face. I realise that all my force has gone down the drain and no work has been done. I take a deep breath and then I see a vehicle driving past and I try waving but he doesn't want to stop. I decide to launch one final effort before dial-ling 911. This time, I push the the vehicle in fits and starts instead of continuous application of force. The vehicle starts budging and my intensity and adrenalin burst makes the car change its stoic attitude. I reckon I'm ready for the next lap.
11:00 PM:
I must be in Michigan now since I read the speed limit is 70 mph. It begins to dawn on me that the worst might be over. I feel the intensity of the blizzard has died down and I see landscapes around me that are not painted in white. I begin to feel confident. I can see signs of human civilisation as they gradually appear. I turn off the windshield wiper after it got into action many hours ago.
11:45- Midnight:
I am within Detroit city limits. I am driving at nearly 65-70 mph, almost with a vengeance. The roads are clean, clear and lighted. Snow flakes are flying off my vehicle, though not completely. My screens have a layer of hard salt on it.
12:30 AM:
My car finally halts at the Westin Hotel, Detroit Metropolitan Airport. My mate is waiting there with few of his friends who know that I'm coming. He unmistakably spots my car with a lot of snow inflicted injuries on it. The speedometer finally reads zero. By now, I have seen nearly one dozen accidents in a window of 300 miles.
I walk out. Light-hearted . Relieved and glad to be alive. This is not baptism by fire. It was the baptism by snow.
Amen
Monday, February 8, 2010
Monday, September 28, 2009
The fringe benefits of break ups & cacophony of thoughts from a beautiful mind
Love is a smoke made from the fumes of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears What is it else? A madness most discreet A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
It would be nothing short of heresy on my part if I did not attribute the originality of the above verse to my literary master and commander- William Shakespeare. If your sex is male and you do not quite follow the wisdom above, please consult a standard paraphrasing guidebook. However, if you belong to the 'fairer sex', you know my e-mail address. Before you judge me for a pervert, please understand that I graduated from a school where 'sex kills - come to CMU and live forever.'
Probably, a break up is worse than the 'life and death' I just spoke about. A break-up may be defined as personal situation where you experience the most excruciating sentimental pain over uncertain and varying period of time caused solely by the action or inaction of another individual who was probably paid more attention than he or she deserved. And I shall humbly agree with you that this is not an all inclusive definition, since this is not always the case. It is almost impossible to trap the nuances of the most complex human nature within the confines of the English language. Some people have tried. An exemplary performance is right at the top of this page.
But a break up can be sometimes beautifully refreshing too! That morning, I did not have to get up early and punch her 'good morning' in the one hundred and eleventh language on the text message screen. Unlike yesterday, I wasn't concerned if the cologne and deodorant smelt sexy and swanky. I could willingly choose to postpone my visit to Supercuts by a few months. My shirt and trousers needn't be Mark and Spencer. I could easily get into the not so bad clothing I once bought for a pittance at a
It is evening now and I can join my mates for a few Guinness down at the pub. We can talk about all the girls known and unknown, famous and infamous, blonde and brunette, Asian and European, single and not so single, Monica Lewinsky and Princess Diana, hot and cool, married and unmarried, young and not so young, witches and bitches, NSA and LTR, pierced and tattooed, shaken and stirred, pink iphone and blackberry, martini and single malt, till we're too drunk to hear that the pub will be shutting down in a few minutes. I am no longer the lover boy cum Bill no mates and can sleep like a baby.
Whilst he is sleeping, she is silently awake. In the middle of the night, she remembers about how they met and how the ground beneath her feet gradually slipped. Not to forget that in the fullness of time, her feet hardly touched the ground as she was the princess of his dreams. Will she forget the summer at the beach, the endless conversations, romantic evenings or the last Valentine's day when he almost colonised the moon in her name? The little unknown things she did, the distant destiny she fancied, the winter of despair and the spring of joy - she cherished all the seasons under the sun as long as he was there. The shadow of parting hurt and togetherness was tantamount to unparalleled joy. And then by the caprice of fate or some nuclear explosion on a distant planet, he is lying half dead on his bed miles away from the unattended tear on her rosy cheek. Shakespeare is probably feeling good. The romantic tragedies of life have evolved more character in his characters who have danced to the tune of his Elizabethan ink.
The spring of joy is over. The summer days are long gone. Fall is here and love is in the air. Nature braces itself to meet the harsh winter when the sparrow will have to bleed itself against a thorn on a snowy night to keep the rose red and alive. The matrix of creation looks down upon the human civilisation where love actually still exists. Love, love and love alone caused King Edward to lose his throne!
In the course of her pursuit for excellence, she has reached sun lit outlandish uplands where the three rivers converge to symbolise the unity of body, mind and soul. The monotony of her disposition is constantly challenged by the pleasant thoughts of someone new who might touch her life and add life to it again. The spark kindles hope. But the thought of her past violently interferes with the train of her thoughts. Her frail and pale figure reconciles with the history and reality and then hurries across the quad with dusty books on metaphysics. Suddenly, a new feeling blossoms in her. She cherishes all of those things that never happened to her. She is nonchalant about her success and her failure. The pursuit of happiness is now more exciting since she feels it’s fabulous if dreams fail. Her heart races up the stairs and she is panting. If the boy in her bedroom poster actually came to life, it would be a total loss since the dream would turn into reality. That reality isn't the pursuit of her life. She is in the pursuit of her dreams which should last forever and keep her going. By now, she is intense, fast and furious as she turns her hand to measure the treacherous time. Those extra ten pounds fall off her hands and she almost crashes into someone. They gaze at each other. He has the fire in his eyes. He is far from perfect but he too looks like a dreamer. She has finally met someone she is looking for - a dreamer.
Meanwhile, our friend lying half dead after pints of Irish lager is mending his oars. The hangover is long gone and the distant sea rises and salutes his spirits as he prepares himself to embark on these wanton waves to meet his dreams. That skimpily clad lady stands in the middle of the vast ocean wearing tiger skin with saffron dyed long hair that almost touches her knees. Her eyes are wild and Atlantic blue and she exudes Arctic freshness flavoured with musk. She holds a silver trident in her hand and a rose (yes, the same one saturated the sparrow's blood) in the other. He can almost see her in the middle of storm. That nasty break up has been left behind in the narrow alleys of forgetfulness and the future lies ahead. It might take him days before he gets to his new love but his spirit lies undeterred. The cold temperature and the stormy waves remind him of what he heard on BBC America this morning.
"It’s a rather cold day in
Amen.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
WORDS OF WISODM
The summer of 2009 has been rather mellow. While the world is reeling with the recession cacophony, top institutions have been churning out promising graduates who have dared to walk out of their hallowed portals under the dark clouds of unemployment and uncertainty but not before they have heard the commencement speeches delivered by the glitterati and the pundits of the real world. Most of the commencement speeches this year gyrated around ‘being recession- resistant and upbeat’ and have invariably been ‘words of wisdom’ heard by students and scholars after years of toil and labour. These sermons have not only played the role of parting messges but have also been a cynosure in the education and media square. These speeches have hundreds of thousands of hits on Youtube and they definitely are a timeless treasure.
‘Stay hungry. Stay foolish’. Rings any bells? These resounding words echoed first in the lawns of Stanford University on a sunny commencement day in 2005 and then the word spread across the educational landscape of the planet. It was a person of the stature no less than Steve Jobs who gave the graduating class the lesson of life woven around three stories and one deep message to which he claimed no originality. His fifteen minute speech has more than one million hits on Youtube and he shares this ‘millionaire’ platform with the likes of the legendary ‘Last Lecture’ professor – Randy Pausch. The Carnegie Mellon computer science professor’s surprise appearance at the 2008 commencement ceremony, where he shared the dais with Al Gore, was witnesses by thousands at the Gesling Stadium and later watched by millions using the prowess of Information Technology. Those eternal words about ‘achieving your childhood dreams’ still reverberate in the minds and hearts of many people who may or may not have met the man who was once denied admission to Carnegie Mellon but perseverance brought him back to the same place where he created history in the midst of adversity.
Harvard has interestingly invited speakers from across the pond in the last few years. Last year Harvard was charmed by the magical words of JK Rowling four years after Sacha Baron Cohen a.k.a. Ali G appeared in his gangsta regalia to teach the class of 2004 a lesson or two about ghetto culture. Definitely taking the road less travelled, Ali G laced his speech with sex, drugs and scatological functioning. On the other end of the spectrum Rowling mesmerized her audience with her classical and posh accent in true spirit of Harry Potter. She recalled the picture of the 21 year old lass she was at her inconsequential graduation and twenty one years hence, here she was delivering words to arguably the most coveted graduation ceremony in the world. The journey of her life where she dealt with poignant issues like poverty, breakup, extended failure and the discovery of the harsh world through the eyes of her job at Amnesty International were carefully marked in her speech titled ‘The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination’. Of course, life was never the same again for many and especially for her, after she had met Harry Potter. Her crafty speech had a class of intellectual humour with sentences like, ‘There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction’ and sharp messages like, ‘You might never fail on the scale I did. Unless you live so cautiously that you might not have lived at all, in which case, you failed by default’.
Not to forget the splendid Eric Schmidt (CEO Google) commencement address I attended as a graduating student from the Class of 2009 at Carnegie Mellon. He expressed his special admiration for the parents of the students and suggested that the students may actually listen to them, now that they have graduated. ‘We got our news from newspapers, your generation gets it from blogs and tweets, and for those of you who don’t know, that’s not what you hear in zoos... We just didn’t tell anyone about our most embarrassing moments, you record them and post them to Facebook and YouTube every day’ reflected the oracle’s passion and inspiration towards technology that drives the world today. His repeated mention of Facebook, Twitter and his ‘favourite search engine’ enthralled the crowd largely composed of students with an above average geeky index. His words oozed optimism as he spoke about the amazing resilience of the human spirit’- ‘it’s what got us through World War I, World War II and it will get us through our current challenges just fine.’
Last but not the least, his last words underscored the two fundamental facets of life – ‘always remember to be nice to your parents and true to your school’.
Abhinav Charan
‘Stay hungry. Stay foolish’. Rings any bells? These resounding words echoed first in the lawns of Stanford University on a sunny commencement day in 2005 and then the word spread across the educational landscape of the planet. It was a person of the stature no less than Steve Jobs who gave the graduating class the lesson of life woven around three stories and one deep message to which he claimed no originality. His fifteen minute speech has more than one million hits on Youtube and he shares this ‘millionaire’ platform with the likes of the legendary ‘Last Lecture’ professor – Randy Pausch. The Carnegie Mellon computer science professor’s surprise appearance at the 2008 commencement ceremony, where he shared the dais with Al Gore, was witnesses by thousands at the Gesling Stadium and later watched by millions using the prowess of Information Technology. Those eternal words about ‘achieving your childhood dreams’ still reverberate in the minds and hearts of many people who may or may not have met the man who was once denied admission to Carnegie Mellon but perseverance brought him back to the same place where he created history in the midst of adversity.
Harvard has interestingly invited speakers from across the pond in the last few years. Last year Harvard was charmed by the magical words of JK Rowling four years after Sacha Baron Cohen a.k.a. Ali G appeared in his gangsta regalia to teach the class of 2004 a lesson or two about ghetto culture. Definitely taking the road less travelled, Ali G laced his speech with sex, drugs and scatological functioning. On the other end of the spectrum Rowling mesmerized her audience with her classical and posh accent in true spirit of Harry Potter. She recalled the picture of the 21 year old lass she was at her inconsequential graduation and twenty one years hence, here she was delivering words to arguably the most coveted graduation ceremony in the world. The journey of her life where she dealt with poignant issues like poverty, breakup, extended failure and the discovery of the harsh world through the eyes of her job at Amnesty International were carefully marked in her speech titled ‘The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination’. Of course, life was never the same again for many and especially for her, after she had met Harry Potter. Her crafty speech had a class of intellectual humour with sentences like, ‘There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction’ and sharp messages like, ‘You might never fail on the scale I did. Unless you live so cautiously that you might not have lived at all, in which case, you failed by default’.
Not to forget the splendid Eric Schmidt (CEO Google) commencement address I attended as a graduating student from the Class of 2009 at Carnegie Mellon. He expressed his special admiration for the parents of the students and suggested that the students may actually listen to them, now that they have graduated. ‘We got our news from newspapers, your generation gets it from blogs and tweets, and for those of you who don’t know, that’s not what you hear in zoos... We just didn’t tell anyone about our most embarrassing moments, you record them and post them to Facebook and YouTube every day’ reflected the oracle’s passion and inspiration towards technology that drives the world today. His repeated mention of Facebook, Twitter and his ‘favourite search engine’ enthralled the crowd largely composed of students with an above average geeky index. His words oozed optimism as he spoke about the amazing resilience of the human spirit’- ‘it’s what got us through World War I, World War II and it will get us through our current challenges just fine.’
Last but not the least, his last words underscored the two fundamental facets of life – ‘always remember to be nice to your parents and true to your school’.
Abhinav Charan
Sunday, October 19, 2008
My Heart is in the work
By Eleven, This is my first blog ever.
I am writing after eleven months and a distance of eleven thouand odd miles from my home. Eleven months back I was in love. Deep love! Suddenly eleven weeks back she saw through me and now I am nursing a broken heart though I dont have even close to eleven dollars in my Pee and See bank account.
So tired of nursing my broken heart, I decided to 'MoVe oN'. That cliched line which monkeys, chimpanzees, apes, gorillas, urangutans, snow man, all the different kinds of primitive men and the modern metrosexual men have been telling each other when all their corrsponding female monkeys, female chimpanzees, female apes et al 'change their minds'.
I can't reiterate more than this when I swear that in the eleven accents that I can talk in that this is painful moment of my life. But then, very similar to what Sir Winston Churcill said: If the British Empire were to last for more than a thouand years, men shoud still look back and say that 'this was their finest hour', I took could say, that if I were to last for a hundred years, you folks could still say that 'Mate, this was your finest hour.' - The Battle Within.
Now lets give a break to the jabberworcking and consider what you would enjoy reading.
Are you intrigued by any of these:
A creative writer?
A quizzer ?
A debator ?
A Manchester United supporter ?
Ever fought in the World Wars ? or even the recent ones ?
Interested in American Universities ?
Obsessed with Lindsay Lohan ?
And the lips of Angelina Jolie ?
Admire the Pittsburgh Steelers ?
The Indian Cricket team ?
Engineering and Management ?
The crappy structure of governemnt jobs !
Operas of Guiseppe Verdi ?
Bill Cinton and Monica Lewinsky ?
William Wallace ?
Love, Love and Love alone ? Poor me :(
Age of Empires ?
1/11 Gurkha Rifles ?
Vodka Martini...shaken not stirred ?
British vs American vs arghh Ozzie accents ?
Princess Diana and her kids and their bitches ?
Earthquakes in the Far East ?
Testicular Cancer?
Sherlock Holmes ?
Sex on the beach..the cocktail, I mean ?
An Electric Kiss ?
If yes, then stay on and get drowned in the nectar that will soon ooze out of the mountain on top of Shangri La.
If not, you will soon get intrigued by one of these.
Nomine Patris et Filius et Spiritus Sanctus. Amen !
I am writing after eleven months and a distance of eleven thouand odd miles from my home. Eleven months back I was in love. Deep love! Suddenly eleven weeks back she saw through me and now I am nursing a broken heart though I dont have even close to eleven dollars in my Pee and See bank account.
So tired of nursing my broken heart, I decided to 'MoVe oN'. That cliched line which monkeys, chimpanzees, apes, gorillas, urangutans, snow man, all the different kinds of primitive men and the modern metrosexual men have been telling each other when all their corrsponding female monkeys, female chimpanzees, female apes et al 'change their minds'.
I can't reiterate more than this when I swear that in the eleven accents that I can talk in that this is painful moment of my life. But then, very similar to what Sir Winston Churcill said: If the British Empire were to last for more than a thouand years, men shoud still look back and say that 'this was their finest hour', I took could say, that if I were to last for a hundred years, you folks could still say that 'Mate, this was your finest hour.' - The Battle Within.
Now lets give a break to the jabberworcking and consider what you would enjoy reading.
Are you intrigued by any of these:
A creative writer?
A quizzer ?
A debator ?
A Manchester United supporter ?
Ever fought in the World Wars ? or even the recent ones ?
Interested in American Universities ?
Obsessed with Lindsay Lohan ?
And the lips of Angelina Jolie ?
Admire the Pittsburgh Steelers ?
The Indian Cricket team ?
Engineering and Management ?
The crappy structure of governemnt jobs !
Operas of Guiseppe Verdi ?
Bill Cinton and Monica Lewinsky ?
William Wallace ?
Love, Love and Love alone ? Poor me :(
Age of Empires ?
1/11 Gurkha Rifles ?
Vodka Martini...shaken not stirred ?
British vs American vs arghh Ozzie accents ?
Princess Diana and her kids and their bitches ?
Earthquakes in the Far East ?
Testicular Cancer?
Sherlock Holmes ?
Sex on the beach..the cocktail, I mean ?
An Electric Kiss ?
If yes, then stay on and get drowned in the nectar that will soon ooze out of the mountain on top of Shangri La.
If not, you will soon get intrigued by one of these.
Nomine Patris et Filius et Spiritus Sanctus. Amen !
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