Shar Diaries US 3.0

After hours of in-flight time, sumptuous meals, mildly-friendly stewards and back-to-back movies, we finally landed at Washington Dulles Airport.

We were greeted with serpentine queues at the customs clearance portal. The icing on the cake was the first face of America - the rude customs officer. She not only interrogated our intentions for visiting the first world nation but also took us for a ride with our geography.

With a sleep deprived mood, I some how managed to not lose it on my folks. Even the slight hiccup at the currency exchange counter didn't discourage me.

Mom n Dad were exceptionally quiet during the shuttle ride to the hotel. I was happy to express my first emotions and observations whilst arriving in the USA.

I had never seen so many colored people at a time. At the cost of being racist, I admit that I was happy to see the peaceful co-existence of so many nationalities. Not only the tourists, the staff all over the place portray a gorgeous melting pot scenario. I also got a peek at the Pentagon building - it definitely is the largest on the planet with regard to area covered.

To top it all, my Indian Dad bonded with the Pakistani receptionist at the hotel, who guided us regarding our tourist interests in the city.

As of now I'm happy to be here with my family, awaiting my sister's graduation ceremony.

Next Destination: Richmond, VA

Shar Diaries US 2.0

05:55 AM
The Austrian Airlines aircraft dropped my folks and me at Vienna, as promised and paid for. I woke up from a drowsy mind to a beautiful morning.
Mom said she couldn't sleep coz of sheer excitement, while I enjoyed sound sleep, thanks to the comforts of business class flying.

The airport and the weather didn't seem out of the ordinary. I was pretty much expecting the same from Vienna, that I do from airports in general.

As Dad suggested, we headed to the Austrian Airlines Lounge to kill the time in transit. The Lounge is spacious and comfortable, housing a variety of furniture, placed carefully around the buffet meal.

Mom was craving the stores around the lounge as I tried to get INR exchanged. Dad is peacefully asleep now and I'm enjoying writing.

Next stop: Washington Dulles

Adios Amigos

Shar Diaries US 1.0

Days of preparation and planning finally brought me a step closer to my dream-trip to the States. I'm full of excitement and joy as I Mount the vehicle in transit. Someone special showed up at my door last minute, delaying my packing process and leaving me panicked half an hour before my time of departure.
With a flustered mind and self-criticism for my poor time management habits, I finally made it to the cab in time, saying a last minute good bye to my sweet cousin next door.

As I was leaving, my friends were surprised as to why the excitement didn't show on my face. Why wasn't I jumping with happiness with the thought of the developed country that no one likes to return from. I asked myself the same... I realized, I have been a little closed to my emotions - a shield we all put on while living in the big city alone. But now, it's time to change! It's time for real fun and lots of frolic. Seeing new and beautiful places was never more charming than it is, after serving at a company for 9 long months at a stretch. I'm happy. Excited. And. Ready for the US of A :P
More updates coming up shortly.
Next stop: New Delhi

The Half Story

Seldom do we come across individuals in life, who do not fall under predefined section of our mind. Who are they? Why do they exist? What do they want in life?
It is human tendency to judge a person based on certain stereotypes, to reassure ourselves about life and people. But what happens when we meet a select few who do not fall under any of the stereotypes?

The Half Story this time around, is about one such individual. His intention is noble but he has no motive. Is he ambitious? No, definitely not! Does that make him a fool? Most certainly not!

After going through the video of Mr. Chandrakumar of Megma, I was moved beyond words. He is a retired educationist, residing in the scenic hills of Indo-Nepal border. He does not earn a penny in exchange for his services to the school, moreover to the nation, and yet there is nothing that can stir his conviction.

His story is inspiring indeed, not only with regard to the hard work that he puts in day in and day out, but with the fact that he practises his passion unconditionally. Isn't that what passion is all about, you might ask. Certainly it is, but looks like I cannot help but marvel at his service-before-self attitude towards the school, students and education.

The school is a purely academic place. By that, I mean, it lacks everything else that a normal school would possess. The meagre infrastructure and shabby conditions teach us that attitude  is everything.  These students could crib about this situation, instead they smile at it. They are pleased with their lives, and why shouldn't they be? After all, they have an amazing teacher - to whom they shall remain indebted for the rest of their life.

These children will remain happy whether you make a donation to their school or you don't. But
may be you should do it for the student in you who understands the importance of a blackboard, stationery and most importantly text books. Do it for all the times, that you felt over-privileged about yourself.

A Game Of Thrones night

To understand what the hoopla was all about, with regard to a certain King dying somewhere and his successor coming to power - I finally decided to experiment with the Game of Thrones series in one night. A good 2 years post it's release.
I tried to keep away from it for the same reason that I still haven't read the Harry Potter series. As soon as a popular culture artefact assumes too much popularity, I begin to despise it. This is especially true in the case of books, 'coz herd mentality affects ur judgment of the book and fails the Reader Response theory completely.
So why did I really begin the GOT?
It was certainly a conscious decision. Most of the people I know, who are my age or older/younger wouldn't shut up about it. A part of me wanted to be able to relate to the madness. But moreover, the anthropologist in me couldn't keep her curiosity under the wraps. I wanted to know what is it that the youth of today likes. What is it that catches their interest and fancy so much so that they dread GOT spoilers and can be blackmailed with the same.
Indian youth (at the cost of making a sweeping generalization) are known for being geeks who cannot think out side the box or embrace difficult genres such as magical realism. Then what was it about the show that kept them hooked?
It turns out, it is not really the generic elements that one pays heed to, when one gets to indulge in one's "id" ego.
That part of the conscience which represents the animalistic traits in us humans. To an extent, the barbaric nature of GOT plot, quenches a dormant thirst in people. The unpredictable deaths, not only symbolize the very nature of death but constantly play with the catharsis that a viewer undergoes. Which translates into the fact that even the most loved characters are only a heap of bones and flesh before a sword and an vengeful warrior.
The GOT script and plot reduces the value of life to a minimal and then asks u in the face, how far are you willing to go to win the Iron Throne?
The story is ruthless and audacious. It does not seek to glorify the historic past that we once took pride in. It doesn't leave any room for moralistic idealism. It thrives on survival-of-the-fittest theory. We have seen animals live by rule. But this is perhaps the first show that shows humans in the same light.

Well, I'm addicted for now but the critic in me doesn't let me enjoy the show in full.
Until next revelations - adios!

The Reunion

After months of separation, weeks of planning and days of excitement, we finally embarked upon the over night trip to a luxury resort in the outskirts of the city.

Gang mates were back to the adda-city. Some for internships or entrance exams, while the localites worked hard to manage holidays.

As we entered, we were welcomed by a few hiccups here and there, but once we started with the fun, we were on a roll.

Off late, I have been missing my college life and keep compareing it to the new office group that I'm a part of. The two groups have diverse tempraments. While the college group is more cooperative and mostly broke, the office group is high on ego and almost always broke.

Though you don't really get much choice, when it comes to choosing your group, being in a group, can teach you a lot about yourself and others.

After months of hanging out with the office bunch, the college gang outing came as a breath of fresh air.

I was content. I didn't want anything else in the whole world, for those two days that I could be with my friends. But something wasn't adding up. There was a sense of a void in the air. We were all the same, yet very different.

The fun wasn't the same. The affection that bound all of us, was drifting apart. We still loved one another, but some where down the line, we had lost our spark.

It was amazing to me, how a year long gap could bring about so much change in each of us. Work, studies, competition,  priorities, everything had shuffled for each one. Our experiences define our personality. Why were we not the same anymore?

I repeated that question in my head over and over again. The space was so complicated. I didn't know if I should enjoy the moment or worry about why I couldn't really enjoy the moment...

I then decided to embrace the change that had come about. Sometimes, we have to make peace with the fact that people are not always the same, they change, their circumstances and times also change. The best we can do is adapt and let go.

Later, I asked myself, "Am I still the same naive girl, my friends knew and loved?"
Have I not become smarter by shades-a change that my job brought about in me?  Yes, I certainly had changed.

The trip taught me quite a few lessons about love and life. An enlightenment that only a Reunion could make plausible.

The Muse

Myth says a writer cannot write without inspiration. Where is the inspiration derived from? Usually, a muse. It could be a song, a scene from a motion picture, an interesting episode from the day or even a fable.

A writer can identify her musings through observation - that goes beyond what meets the eye. Seeing the uncommon makes the write-up worthwhile. 'Tis the unique point of view which makes all the difference.

But what happens when a writer loses the inherent motivation to jot down her thoughts, which came only naturally to her earlier? Is it the lack of inspiration, or a possibility that her observation skills have rusted?

Would such a scenario be considered as the "writer's block"? Not really. A writer's block occurs when you begin a piece and get stuck midway... Not when you cannot even begin your piece at all.

Something similar happened to me. A part of my identity which took pride in claiming itself to be a writer, stopped functioning. It became bad enough that I began looking at alternate career options. I was most certainly rusting my brains.

I tried to get back on track by hunting for muses anywhere in the macrocosmic vicinity. But to no respite.

Perhaps what I had forgotten some where down the line, was the fact that a writer is also emotional much like a poet. You not only need a muse, but a heart to feel the depth of the muse. The revelation happened shortly after I succumbed to failure.

My passion for writing was rekindled by the arrival of my teacher, my caregiver - my mother. Her presence in my life after a long stretch of 8 months, touched that forbidden part in me which once thrived on imagination.

My mother has been the muse for this post. Her presence has made all the difference in my life, which is often taken for granted otherwise.