Zeal to Perfection!!!

A rush, a complexity, an idiosyncrasy...What else I can say.  What Felix did may not be a world changing one. What he did may not change the plight of billions of people around the world. He may not put a presumptuous step to take the human race, a leap ahead. But this dude’s made of balls of steel. Some excerpts from his upshot speech which echoed every bit of his exasperating emotion when he’s inside an ominous-looking flat spin that Baumgartner went into around 90 seconds into the descent.

"Because I have a manual push button where I can release a drogue [stabilization] chute which pulls me out of the flat spin, but at the same I time I knew if I push that button, this thing is all over, we're not going to fly supersonic."

Losing out the comfort zone, tackling the adrenaline rush to sooth out the right decision…What not. Felix had not only shown his incredible panache but also his flamboyance in reaching out his goal no matter what the condition is. Even though his prime motivation is to come back alive (as said in his interview after the dive), he never wanted to compromise in his calculated risk to go for an extra mile. Such is his knack, such is his compassion and above all, he still want to challenge himself.

Vince Lombardi said -  “I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, the greatest fulfilment of all that he holds dear, is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious. “ Incomplete. Incomplete. The man’s finest hour, his greatest fulfilment lies in his ability to challenge himself to the extreme and give his heart out to raise the bar of human spirit. History might have been written by the victors, but to be one of them…Look beyond the written lines. 

Ramblings of a whimsical fatso…!!!

A moment on your lips, forever on your hips…As Joey does, I too once used to hate this line. Without second thought I was offended as well. I am not giving an embodiment or an activist based view here. I am just speaking as a Tanuj who lived in my very own body till 2011 February. The one who’s living at present or lived after Feb 2011 had lost more than 13 units of adipose tissue (as bios like Shravya used to call it) or Kilos as British metrics call them. Frankly speaking, nothing changed. Not even an additional testosterone level increase or an added percentage of freaking activeness.

For this transformation to a mirror fitting material, the process included woeful humiliation from every quarter. I do not remember the whole story as it is exactly happened, but jus some jottings from broken words from my admirers (yeah who made my life miserable by looking at my rice plate as if I am responsible for global food shortage). The evolution of this pain started before I came to this world I guess. I remember my grandma telling me that I was born a kilo overweight. They called me healthy and damn everyone was worried when I am not having my food properly and losing my weight at that time. And there was the bomb. They saw an appetizer increasing tonic or some prescribed medicine ad on TV and experimented on me. The results were successful and I have started eating as if the world’s gonna end after my meal. I guess my admirers were very happy coz they found a 2 year old chubby kid, cute. Scene cut, dozen years later they were having all problems with my eating/fattening habits. Has the world turned upside down in a dozen years? We just not eat to satisfy our souls. We are major driving factors of retail foods. I bet none of my skinny admirers would dare touch the sugar coated calories in the shelves even though their heart pound for that. After all we encourage new restaurateurs by visiting them. We are the source of information, critical reviews and GDP growth (retail food combustion rate is directly proportional to our fattening…lame calculation…:P). Considering the fact that Warren Buffet and Mukesh Ambani are over weight, be careful while you comment on the next one you see on the road. 

Welcome back!!!

One classic which never grows old and can sustain over the ages...A lyrical masterpiece fitting in my party log of welcoming 2012...From the pen of Phil the Master...Its just another day in Paradise!!!

She calls out to the man on the street, "Sir, can you help me?
It's cold and I've nowhere to sleep. Is there somewhere you can tell me?"
He walks on, doesn't look back, he pretends he can't hear her
He starts to whistle as he crosses the street, seems embarassed to be there

Oh, think twice, it's just another day for you and me in paradise
Oh, think twice, it's just another day for you, you and me in paradise
Just think about it

She calls out to the man on the street, he can see she's been crying
She's got blisters on the soles of her feet, she can't walk, but she's trying

Oh, just think twice, it's just another day for you and me in paradise
Oh yes, think twice, it's just another day for you, you and me in paradise
Just think about it, uh - huh, just think about it

Oh Lord, is there nothing more anybody can do
Oh oh Lord, there must be something you can say

You can tell by the lines on her face, you can see that she's been there
Probably been moved on from everyplace, cause she didn't fit in there

Oh yes, think twice, it's just another day for you and me in paradise
Oh yes, think twice, it's just another day for you, you and me in paradise
Just think about it, uh - huh, just think about it

It's just another day for you and me in paradise
It's just another day for you and me in paradise
It's just another day for you and me in paradise
It's just another day for you and me in paradise
It's just another day for you and me, it's another day for you and me
It's another day for you and me in paradise
In paradise, oh, oh, oh, oh yeah

A tale of cat and mouse

Before starting the actual engravings on my blog wall, I want to clear the air. I am neither a feminist nor a women’s rights activist. I am neither a social reformer nor a modern Raja Ram Mohan Roy. I am just jolting down my thoughts on an article which caught my attention a month ago. This is probably the most serious post of my blog so far and I don’t want to tone down the intensity of the issue to follow my usual suite. My mom used to tell me a famous saying which goes like – “A pet kitten can attack like a tiger, if tortured in a closed room”. I guess the saying has different levels of meaning, but after going through the domestic violence/abuse statistics last month I found it completely wrong. A Colorado court had given a domestic violence convict much debated freedom by basing the act on temporary insanity. One might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. Sad part is morality can never take a chair when insanity prevails. What’s law is planning to prove. Violence against an intimate partner, in most of the cases - women is just an act of insanity???

Let’s start with numbers – Around the world, at least one in every three women has been beaten, coerced into sex or otherwise abused during her lifetime. Most often, the abuser is a member of her own family. Domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women—more than car accidents, muggings, and rapes combined. Men aren’t spared either. About two in five of all victims of domestic violence are men, contradicting the widespread impression that it is almost always women who are left battered and bruised, a new report claims.

More than 30% victims of domestic violence around the world never comes out of their - in this case, the Lion’s den raising their voice because of their fear of shame rosen from the contraceptive decision making in terms of choosing their partners. If the partner is brutally injured and the convict hence proven guilty, the convict is punishable to the maximum of a jail term of 5 years. If there is a kid in the scenario(as a product of their unfruitful relationship), the convict can escape with much lesser possibility of punishment. According to UNICEF’s statistics, more than 75% of children who are grown in these kinds of abusive environment will grow up with psychological disorders which can mutate to trauma and depression that can carry for their life time. The convict of the Texas Chain Saw massacre is a product of one such incident in his childhood. Domestic violence is a widely known dark secret. It’s more brutal than a Sexual Homicide. As a matter of fact, in a homicide the victim is killed on the spot with a one time suffering. Domestic violence perpetuates, influence and disturbs the intensity and defoliates the life. This is not a social message. A society in which every human being is ought to be survived, one should never let down oneself to undergo this pain. It’s very difficult to undergo a cross pollination phase when two human beings coming from completely different backgrounds merged under one roof. Differences do exist. Violence is not an answer and is a severely punishable crime. Law should be stringent to leave any reservations for the convicts. Do not close the door. Ring a bell!!!

COKE 'n me

Black – A colour that represent extreme vacuum in the universe, A colour which showcases deep down emptiness, a colour that defined the darkness and the very own colour of highest point of attraction. I don’t have a squad about how the name COLA came up with this colour, but as a kid I never really tend to pose myself with a bottle of coke in my hands (It was coca cola at that time and people used to call it, with its very own name). The childhood fascination was all about colours and even grayish Limca couldn’t fit into my bottle of wine. It started with Gold Spot. The addiction to orange had grown with age and transformed from long T’d 330ml bottles to mini skirted 300ml cans. Though the cylindrical cans which belonged to cooler gen next, just got themselves confined to my math calculations and couldn’t fit in my hands.

So all the intro above is jus to prove my first love wasn’t with Coke and as the saying goes that Love stories started at a tender age can never last longer than they seem to be. By the time I have started using the phrase I am a grown up now, orange coloured Fanta/Mirinda (Did I mention that Gold Spot evolved into much cooler versions like above) were successfully replaced with world’s best soft drink - Coca Cola. And its an age where my teenage dreams jus subdued and I need to show my prowess of so called male ego of a grown up man. I never liked the smell of beer and alcohol was still considered as a sin thing (I totally disagree with that logic, but cmon consider the Indian so called ethical environment which suppressed the logic behind any belief). First shot at coke did gave me an awesome feeling of sliding through the throat which was parched due to a hot Indian summer. It was heaven. Since then, coke had been my strength and weakness and successfully kept me away from beer.

Coke is just a symbol of realtime addiction, atleast for me. What do I have for breakfast – bread, cheese and coke(a modern French combo); Lunch – Pasta and coke; Dinner – rice and coke; Dessert – vanilla coke; Reduce weight – Diet coke; Need to sleep – Zero Coke; Coke delivered every product to suit my life style. It did complete me. This love story did lasted for a while before I found my date and entered a polygamy with beer. A date with beer has a sense of kick but coke always gave the much needed satisfaction for which I am still an addict. Everything in life has a beautiful ending. And if it is not beautiful, then be sure, it is not the ending. Beer showed the side effects (belly especially) and I had to get back to the love of my life. As U2 sang with or without you in my ears coke defined the perfect sync of my life with a They lived happily ever after climax. This time it’s a happy ending and Maniratnam’s dialogues in Geetanjali did came true – Nobody knows how long they gonna last, but they will be happy as long as they are together. Coke will last forever by giving justification to the core for every addict and I am no Chuck Norris. I did opened my happiness…(Damn coca cola isn’t gonna pay me for this heart felt marketing…L)

A journey of unbuttoned knickers and torn shirts

When driven back in those memories, there were no egos, there were no night outs, there were no tensions and there were definitely no running and waning outs behind life. But there were egos because I had fewer pencils than my best friend, there were tensions because I never knew how to explain my social studies marks to my mom and there was tiresome running because of hard hitting dodge ball. There were sweet kisses on cheeks which were not coincidental, then there were half eaten carriers and scolding moms along with brain eating dads. In my case its 6 days of grandma and grandpa along with 1 day of mom and dad. There were power cuts, blood rush jumps from buildings to buildings when spider man exists only in comic books and cartoons. There was also Chitrahar and Chitralahari along with Ramayana, chandrakantha , Mahabharata, and Disney hour with Ducktales and Talespin.

There was a time where dancing with a girl means love – a mere misnomer from famous tollywood movies, ofcourse it wasn’t tollywood too at that time. There were puppy shames whenever I used to forget zipping my knickers and a blush despite you are a boy. There was this Sunday bathing ritual with dad and mom running behind me to get the process started. There were summer holidays where I don’t have to worry about getting tanned or sun burnt. All I can think of was loads of cricket and badminton with pretentious acts of mischievousness. There were night outs on new years eve to beat the best rangoli in the street and saving the pocket money to buy cosco balls for weekend cricket. There were broken glass windows, woken maniacs (all elders in street) and preaching neighbors. The best screwed up punch line was “Please study Tanuj. You have plenty of time to play.” Oh please who can get me back my childhood. I will pour in all my savings along with my shares I bought. Please get me back my childhood and same feeling where two rupees was a treasure. Despite consistent outburst of worsening marks, even the worst injuries along with empty homework books used to make my day. I was proud to be called an adamant kid but I never looked back and regret. I broke the flower pots in school, destroyed the garden and even fought with my friends and tore their shirts. But never a dull moment or a moment of hypocrisy. I can still feel the same, but with an added tension of growing old.

There was an old telugu song in which ANR sings to a crying baby which gist to why do you wanna grow up so soon. The life beyond this sucks. Yes practically it sucks. But at the same time the enjoyment is taken care at every step. So everyone’s life was a summer of 69. It goes like “But when I look back now, summer seems to last forever and if I had the choice, Yeah I always wanna be there. Those were the best days of my life.”

C'est la vie Murphy!!!

Murphy’s Law says “If anything can go wrong, it will definitely go wrong”. It seems so discouraging for asking oneself to give up on fight when it’s not actually started. Seems too preemptive isn’t it? When you actually know the circumstances and give it an open heart it doesn’t matter. But showing a white flag before the battle starts is pathetic. Even if it is, amidst ruins. We all hear about great battles won on the split second decisions and courageous face offs. What if the battle is lost in mind beforehand? I have a small story to share

“ Decades ago a Chinese army going for a battle stops in front of a temple and started praying to god for their win despite the reality says the chances are less. The major of the battalion talked to the soldiers about destiny’s role in win–loss situations and how we cannot overcome it. He asked soldiers whether taking the chances straightaway is worth it or not. None of them could answer. So he decided to flip a coin in front of god to take the matter of fact whether it’s destined for them to win, or lose the battle. He called heads for win and tails for loss. Strangely it turned out to be heads. The army with an overarching enthusiasm and confidence fought as if they are ordered by almighty itself and against all the odds won the battle.”

The story talks about odds, risk and doing what is invincible against all of them. The twist in the tale is that the coin tossed by major is a two headed one. Moral is simple. Win the battle in mind and heart before entering into the ground. Life is more of cross roads and taking decisions in the periods of utmost uncertainty. In my first ever post, I have tried explaining a process based approach in taking decisions. Now when I see it down the line, it’s YUCK. My current bottom line - Take the decisions that drive the hell out of ya and back them up with logic. Vince Lombardi quoted “man's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle.” I have just clipped the last word of the quote Victorious coz it makes no sense. Win or lose when exhausted and lying down on the ground fighting the battle gives a sound of HELL YA, rather than giving up taking the odds into consideration. And as the myth says the heaven is always reserved for the people who fought and died in the battle, but not the ones who watch it as a mere spectacle. I found a battle today which is calling for an unwanted humiliation as a reward for loss. I was blank, destructed and petrified by the way it turned up. But a warm heart asked me for a restoration of pride and for a kick ass journey. And here I am to defy Murphy’s Law, if it has actually decided for some worst odd!!!