I talk, eat, sleep and also err ... blog?

Like children in school disciplined by the strict rules, we went through the many decades old Aurobindo Ashram’s main entrance ducking our heads, finger on our lips. There was a winding path dotted with meticulously arranged flower pots and a 20 feet cactus which somehow managed to still have most of its limbs or thorns was it? withstanding the recent storm that blew over the city leaving a mark on virtually every tree and billboard in the city. The cactus seemed like an unlikely victor. Unlikely was the stalk silence as we went deeper and deeper into the winding path. There were cranky old but alert men at every turn, guiding the line firmly but silently almost like those line men in a tennis match, waiting to raise their hand at the slightest hint of the ball skipping the line. There was no scope for a John McEnro here.   As we walked further to the tomb at the center of the portico, I saw a giggle, almost a muffled laughter desperately held on by the lips pressing each other as

"You'll look sooo stupid if you tell this to someone" I chuckled to myself trying to sleep at Terminal 2E of Paris airport. With more than four hours to wait for my flight to Atlanta, all I could think of, was Ms D or rather "Miss" D. So, who was Miss D? As any bachelor in his mid 20s, returning back from an India vacation, foreseeing the daily grind of work that awaits him, wondering why his hair is mysteriously thinning and witnessing the loss of his friends to their wives or work, would feel, I … had this sudden urge to find "the one" for myself. Rather than planning it, I had always wished it would be a random coincidence. Like, finding someone on the plane next to me! With that silly wish, I boarded the Bangalore-Paris flight at 2AM. As I walked to my seat 21B, the silly wish kept me distracted from the sadness of leaving family and friends behind, in the hope that it may come true. No less than a miracle ... it did come true! There she was, on 21

"Hey I know that guy", says Abid, a good friend of mine, when he sees a familiar face in the car in fornt. He honks as if to say "Hi". The frightened guy in the car takes off his muslim cap immediately. Repercussions of the fight against terror ... eh? However, a different kind of fight was on in the Smoky Mountains. And the trees were losing it ... well ... colorfuly. The colors of fall were so vivid and everywhere, that one time, I did feel like "I don't believe this is true, these americans can do anything to get tourists". A few weeks later I realized that it was not so, when the trees in front of my appartment did the same color change trick ;-) And a few more weeks later, all that the naked trees had to show off were empty bird nests. Winter was winning ... well ... colorlessly. Always be nice to the man with a pen and paper on the cricket field. He might be the scorer or as in my case, a newspaper reporter who gave me my " one line of fame

Such is the detail of the painting on the wall ... that, I discover a new meaning or a hidden image every time I ... well ... every time I take a leak! Yep, its hung on the office restroom wall so that its about 8 inches from the leaker's face. It's as if by design, to get your 100% attention when you are at your most relaxed 50 seconds of the day. Jeez! ... think of it ... this would have been the artist's dream come true ... audience's undivided attention ... several times over in a day. The entire purpose of pin-drop quite art galleries bang in the middle of the most expensive real estate in virtually every major city of the world ... replicated to perfection, in the restroom. But an art collector after buying an artist's work, saying "Well Sir, as a mark of my appreciation, I'll be hanging this in my office restroom", would surely not go down well with any artist. Why? ... because it's not obvious enough. What's obvious enough is ... the

As I rode on my bicycle after a snail paced day at office, I couldn't help miss the look on the faces of my neighbours in cars. What were they thinking? ... wow! cool bike .. Or .. bike? what a looser. As hard it was to figure that out, harder was the tag on my apartment door. It said "Flowers for you delivered at the reception". Now I wouldn't mind a secret admirer, but what would she admire about? ... how well I manage without any furniture? or the minimum 3 wides I bowl every over? or the shape of my chapattis? I rushed to Missy (the receptionist) to collect the flowers ... with a smile she said ... "Oh! I didn't even see the name ... soooorrrryyyy". It was for Mr.Young, previous resident of #209. "I never thought I'll buy a Calvin Klein", I said. "Yeah and I never thought I'll fly", said BG (Deepak BG actually, my college buddy and host in NY), as we sat down to empty the 1 giga bytes of memories in the camera onto the l

I felt that I was busy to write this email for more than a couple of weeks now. Hmm .. lets see why ... Twice to Charleston, moved to my new appartment, thrice to Al-Chico the mexican restaurant (courtesy my ever young project manager, Patty, who thought thursdays nights were mexican nights), four times to Walmart, bought a bicycle, planned a NY trip, twice to second-hand furniture shops and my first ever league cricket match at Charlotte. Seems busy eh? Oh yeah also, since I was left with just $3 in cash and two $500 american express traveler's cheques, which no one wanted to encash unless I had a bank account, I opened a bank account too. And a mexican wife. MEXICAN WIFE! ... ok, let me explain. I was caught half-naked in my hotel room by an unsuspecting mexican room service girl. After a lot of "sorry"s from her and "no problem"s from me, I hurried down stairs to tell this to my buddies who were ready with a story which went ... every mexican girl marri

Aaaithalla ... anthu america ge bande ... a thing of dream proportions, but not really a dream. From not boarding a flight in 24 years to 4 flights in 24 hours (ok i'm 25, but it sounds better) .. the excitement hid the strain called "jet lag" for the next 48 hrs. With my fears of over weight bagages now behind me, i was all ready to look down from the sky ... i liked it in the night. The only ones i made friends on this journey were my neighbours in seat from paris to atlanta, an old Romanian couple. Mostly sign language and helping tear open salted peanut packets for them. The Alps were a sight to watch ... it was hard to distinguish the snow capped mountain tips from the clouds ... "naa clouds can't be soo sharp, must be alps". I pity the pilots of trans-atlantic flights, for 10 hours all they get to see are clouds ... atleast we get to sleep. "America is clean" - my first impression. People here are very courteous ... they say hi and wis