Merry Christmas!

Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ. Celebrated by millions of people all over the world, it's the festival of happiness and benevolence as people share presents with each other. The festival has a special importance in the lives of kids as myth says that a celestial figure called Santa Claus blesses them with gifts and presents.

I too have a vivid memory of Christmas of my childhood. I along with my friends and our respective mothers were returning from school. It was when a Santa Claus standing outside a Cake shop waved his hand to us and thus beckoned us to him. We too happily went to him, wished him A Merry Christmas and received our respective presents from him. It was a moment of joy for all of us after all who doesn't like receiving surprise gifts? I was four then and was in the Junior Kindergarten.

As I grew older and went to the primary school, another fable spread amongst our friends. It said, “A Santa Claus comes to your house on the midnight of Christmas and keeps a secret gift for you. You just need to keep socks tied to your bed so that the Santa Claus can put the gift there.” Being a curious kid, I tried my hand here too. Next day saw the socks filled with a gift. It was an Audio Cassette (In those days we did not have CDs or MP3). My happiness knew no boundaries. This ritual continued for many years and never did it happen that my socks were empty.

 As I grew older, I realized that this Secret Santa Claus who had blessed me with the presents was none other than my Father! (Who even today remains to be a Santa Claus for me.)

Today, at 26, with God’s blessings, I am earning and on this occasion of Christmas I too gift my near and dear with gifts and presents just to see that one broad smile on their face. When alone I too ask the Santa Claus for gifts and blessings but with the age the demands have changed. The inclination is not towards the materialistic gifts but towards health, happiness and well being of me and my loved ones. After all they say that if one is healthy, one can achieve all the mental and material happiness.

So, here I am wishing you and your loved ones A Healthy Christmas, a Merry Christmas!

(And yes, we here in India, at times tend to fall in the boundaries of caste, creed and religion and thus fail to enjoy the moments of happiness which life has to offer. So, move out of your borders and go celebrate after all ‘हर त्योहार मनाना एक अच्छा Idea है’)

  

Be The Change...

Today, 365 days have passed to her suffering. A suffering so ruthless that it led to her death. She who had not even seen all weathers of her life had succumbed to this brutality and lost this precious life in her very youth. Some call her ‘Nirbhaya’, some call her ‘Jyoti’, one may call her by many adjectives but the fact remains that She was ‘Just another Woman’ in a male dominated country called India.

When I say, India is a male dominated country it actually is even though we may have stepped in the Twenty First century but the age old sufferings of women still continue. Female feticide is still rampant. Harassment of a Daughter in Law is like a birth right of the in laws. So if a woman is not safe in her own family, how could one expect her to be secured in the society?

Eve teasing has become the nightmare of almost every woman, making her civil life miserable. When one can’t bear this, there is more to it; RAPE! Nirbhaya or Jyoti’s was only one of the few examples which got exposed due to the alert media and the angry public agitations which followed. But how many such inhuman incidences must be going unheard, one can only imagine.

.

Nirbhaya’s death saw a sea of Humanity crying for her, fighting for her, fighting for the justice (which is usually delayed in our country). The court too this time was on its toes, announcing death penalty to all the accused it had struck back giving a strong message that such atrocities won’t be tolerated. All though one knew that the Girl’s life couldn't be brought back, but this was indeed a justice to the brave heart.

One had thought that the court’s verdict will put a check on man’s devilish tendency which compels him to rape, but alas it was not true. One may find me a sceptic but the incidences which followed made me believe to disbelieve. More rapes followed! And this time the city which was known for its security towards women was also on the Rapists’ hit list, Mumbai!

So even after a year has passed, the question still remains unanswered, “Have we learnt a lesson?” because, even today the women in our country remain unsecured and the administration callous.

They say that there is no man in this world who has not seen a woman with a desire. This may be true but this is also true that the one who can overcome this lust and can respect the woman is a ‘Real Man’ (May be ‘MARD’ in Hindi is a better word in this context). One needs to change the way one thinks. A man should realize that a woman too is a human and she too deserves the same respect (or may be even more) as he expects from her. Strong values need to be inculcated therefore a father who teaches his son to respect a woman is far more worthy than the one who restricts his daughter’s freedom (may be just to protect her, ‘Saat chya aat Gharaat’ in Marathi is a similar way of protecting a girl by restricting her freedom after seven in the evening).

Looking at the administration won’t help but looking inside oneself will. Introspection has become the need of the day so that one can inculcate right values, right respect towards women in oneself. Thus, becoming a catalyst who can change the world.     

Going back to my roots...

While travelling to my native place, I happen to wake up during the early hours of dawn.

If getting up this early is planned or is it just a coinicidence, I really don't know.

Very curiously I look outside the window to check the approaching Station.

And my surprise and happiness know no bounds.

Nostalgia or no nostalgia, again I really don't know but somewhere deep inside my heart I know that there is a strong bond which exists between me and this place.

What if it is just for few minutes, what if it is only on the railway station, It doesn't really matter...

What matters is that I am fortunate to come back to my Alma Mater... Fortunate enough to come back to my roots... This is where I belong to... It is because of This place that Today I am What I am...

Jai Gajanan!!!

-Nachiket Dabhadkar
Shegaon Railway Station
11-12-13

Aah Thuuu...

When Amjad Khan (as Gabbar Singh) had spat his Khaini in Sholay hardly had anyone thought that this spitting would one day become a national obsession.

They may be on board on roads or rails, Indians don't mind spitting anywhere and everywhere. This spitting habbit is more common amongst those who are addicted to a Paan, tobacco and Gutkha. Yes eventhough Gutkha is banned at many places, they say a concoction of various Pan Masalas give the effect of a full fledged Gutkha. If you go by region then this habbit of chewing tobbaco or a Paan is largely seen in people from Uttar Pradesh, Bihar , Bengal and the Vidarbha region of Maharashtra. But with migration of this population to metros, you often find spitting habbits common in the Tier 1 cities too. But a habbit is a habbit and it's not region dependent.

One can frequently find an auto rikshaw or a Truck driver spitting while driving (now this is multitasking). Sometimes the range of their spit ranges from 15 to 20 centimeters (and this is no joke) and they aren't even sorry for it. Many a times wind carries one's spit from one window of a ltrain to the other, thus hitting the face of another person who is enjoying the cool breeze. This erupts into fights and why shouldn't be because being hit by one's spit is actually insulting.

But the fact is that when a person surrenders to Paan or tobacco, he can't simply live without it and when he becomes a slave of these habbits he has to spit the remnants of Paan or tobacco every now and then. And since the laws of our country are not that stringent rather not at all serious against offences like spitting in public, no one cares. Rather we are masters of not following the rules and live with a presumption that Rules are made to be broken and that is why we see a splinters of spittings particularly on those walls where it is specifically written that Spitting is Prohibited or Yaha Thunkna Mana hai.

Administration should thus play a key role by penalizing the guilty as we know that to bring a positive change stern actions are at times necessary. Also this Who cares attitude needs to be changed. If one can't get rid of the addiction then atleast one should try that one is not affecting the surrounding by spitting, as it may lead to spread of diseases.

So next time when you spit, THINK!!!

Anand - Yes, He is there...

It was just another Saturday morning and we were working. We had just begun our day when this lad enters the department and while wishing a daily Good Morning to everyone, very secretly changes the wallpaper on the desktop of one of our senior colleagues. And the latter is surprised to see a ravishing Desi Girl Priyanka Chopra on his screen instead of an intense Smita Patil. The senior chap enquires, “Why this change?” and the boy very innocently replies, “Come on Sir, it’s a Weekend!!!” This was Vivekanand Patil, the Prankster.

He made us talk, he made us laugh,

Before his enthusiasm, everything else was dwarf.

“Anand”- The masterpiece of Indian Cinema, where Rajesh Khanna while making one laugh had brought tears in one’s eyes is one of my favourite movies and have watched it umpteen number times but who had thought that this friend of ours whom we loved will one day become our Anand in real life.

“Babu Moshay, Zindagi Badi honi chahiye, Lambi Nahin...” as if following these lines he lived everyday of his life, making friends at every walk of Life, bringing smiles on every face he met.

Behind every problem to cope,

He was our last ray of Hope.

Guiding us through the way of life, one day He was gone, never to come back. Leaving a void in our hearts.

Today, three years have passed since He had left us and this emptiness in our hearts is so deep that it can never be filled but we can at least try to be happy and cheerful no matter how grave the sorrow be after all we should walk on the path of happiness on which He had once walked.

Zindagi aur maut upar wale ke haath hain jahapanah,
use naa aap badal sakte hain na main,
Hum sab toh rang-manch kee katputliya hain,
jinki dor uparwale ki ungliyon mein bandhi hain
Kab kaun kaise uthega, koi nahi bata sakta

(Vivek)Anand mara nahi…

(Vivek) Anand marte nahin…

Wo yahi hai hamare saath….

KHAN and the Common Man

They are definitely at loggerheads. They do not see each other eye in eye. Thanks to the highly alert Gossip Media who catches the glimpse of the minutest detail of a celebrity life, the SRK-SALMAN rivalry is public.

 

But something as miraculous as the Chaudavi ka Chaand happens at the Iftaar Party of the Congressman Baba Siddiqui that leaves watchers awestruck. Salman taps on Shahrukh’s back and the latter reciprocates with an amiable hug. The Khans embrace each other for a very brief second and the news hungry media gets their scoop for the whole week ahead.

In the era of 24 x 7 news channels where a small tweet by a public figure becomes a Breaking News, the question to be asked is do such events really deserve so much of attention?

In a nation wherein the terror strikes every now and then, when the Uttarakhand mayhem is yet to be restored, when the meal meant for children’s nutrition takes them to their final destination, when the ruling party is clutched in the hands of corruption, when our neighbours (Pakistan and China) are always on their heels to fight against India, when there is such a crisis all around, does it really matter if our favourite movie stars are friends or foes? Are we so numb that forgetting all the real issues we devote our attention towards real life relationship of two human beings who once played brothers in reel life?

When many may validate this notion, there is indeed a counter argument to this school of thought. No doubt that the common man is enraged with the ongoing National Calamities. No doubt that he wants a change, but the fact can’t be denied that the Aam Aadmi is a mere observer to all these issues. Even if he has the power to vote, things seldom go as per his wish and this develops a wait and watch attitude (A Chalta Hai Attitude) in him. And if some Tom, Dick or Harry even dares to emerge out as a Superman to change the system then his actions are seen as foolhardy.

Thus in his sheer frustration, when the share market crashes, when the rupee falls, when prices of commodities go sky high, when he has to struggle for his share of pie, when his leader backstabs, this common man seeks refuge and here these Super Heroes (who entertain him and make him forget his worries) come to his rescue and he finds it more meaningful to wait for Karan Arjun 2 than to anticipate the NDA 2 (or for that matter the UPA 3)

. 

UTTARAKHAND CALLING, Are you on Board?

The sky was dark and thus there was rain,

Who had then thought, it would end up in pain

A pain so grave,

Haunting alike, a coward or a brave

Hardly had the devotees engrossed in a holy chant,

When the Nature played a devilish errant

Please tell me, Oh dear Lord,

What was the reason behind this heinous discord?

June 16, 2013 saw a nail biting episode in Uttarakhand when the Nature God’s fury was on an all time high. Such was the extent of its rage that for many the Kedarnath Pilgrimage turned out to be their last voyage. Thousands died. Countless are still missing. With our Jawans taking the guard, the rescue operation is on.

But what lies ahead is a bigger challenge. There is a constant fear of an epidemic. Which were once called villages, today cease to exist. With collapsed infrastructure, many are left homeless, many jobless. As a consequence the state is in despair. Being shattered into bits and pieces it is striving hard for its survival.

In its struggle to stand up on its feet, Uttarakhand is calling, calling desperately for help. When everybody can’t physically reach there, There are many NGOs (eg: Goonj, Plan India, Give India and many more) which have taken the challenge to aid the oppressed and are thus giving us an opportunity to do our bit by sharing a small part of our earnings.

It may be just a penny but it is valued as it can save the lives of many!

So, let’s come forward and join hands to restore hope, to restore mankind.

WHY???

Till today they were playing their ‘Game’ but nobody seemed to have bothered. Nobody seemed to have noticed, until this happened. They were found guilty for Spot Fixing in the sixth edition of the Indian Premier League. All of a sudden they have become a household name since past few days. There is a thin line between Fame and Defame and in their case it is the latter. They wouldn't have wanted it this way. No individual wants it this way but I always hold a strong belief that none of your sins goes unpunished and this episode has made my belief stronger.

When S. Shreesanth, Ajit Chandila and Ankeet Chavan are being probed by the Police, I, a common man have only one question to ask, WHY?

Shreesanth is better known for his temperamental cricket and has always had his tantrums on the field. To overcome this I understand he was practicing Yoga. He was also seen paying his homage to the Gods and Goddesses by visiting the various temples. As far as my knowledge goes, both Yoga and God have the potential to lead you towards enlightenment and in no way can corrupt your mind. Then what went wrong in Shreesanth’s way? And most importantly why did he let this happen to him? WHY?

Ajit Chandila, 29 year old lad from Haryana has hardly played any noteworthy Domestic cricket (till date). May be it was his good fortune that his coach Narendra Hirwani, discovering his talent had recommended his name to Rahul Dravid. Without any significant experience he was selected for Rajasthan Royals. Being so, the boy was on the dream run. But suddenly betraying his coach and backstabbing his captain, he ‘performed’ in an abysmal manner. WHY?

Ankeet Chavan comes from a well cultured middle class family. Wedding plans were on chart. Making his mark in cricket, he also wanted to pursue an MBA at a later stage of life. When he had such determined personal and professional goals, how did he go off the track? And again most importantly, WHY?

They say that IPL is more of a ‘PAISA’ League than a Premier League. And with the spot fixing incident this is proved yet again. An acrimonious manifestation of money exchanging hands!

When whistle blowers are demanding a ban on IPL, there are many who had loved this format. For a common man this was an entertainer where one saw one’s favourite stars battling against each other. And that was the very reason why handling the work pressure in the morning, when the share market was crashing, somewhere in Pakistan when Sarabjit was dying, Far away in the Northeast when China was entering, every evening this common man sought a refuge in the IPL. This was indeed a stress buster.

But this Spot Fixing Saga has blemished not only IPL but also cricket on the whole. That cricket, which is not a mere sport but a religion in the country called India.

Who gave them the right to play with the emotions of the billion people? And why did they do so? WHY?

Today, playing Cricket is a highly paid job. There are umpteen competitions where you can prove your mettle. And once you do that you are a star. Brands run after you for endorsements. IPL Franchisees pay high to ‘own’ you. Even after you retire, there is a plethora of news and sports channels which spread their red carpets for you.

Shreesanth, Chandila and Chavan three of them were (Yes, I have purposely used the past tense) in such a lucrative profession then WHY???

Life Ban or no ban at all but at some stage of life when they will be away from the limelight, away from the fans, all alone may be then they will have to answer it for themselves, WHY???

Sojourn at F'Nagar

The global dictionary of slangs may disregard the ‘F’ word as a taboo but when it comes to the employees of GSFC (Gujarat State Fertilizers and Chemicals) Baroda, they have a completely different approach to look at the letter ‘F’. For them, ‘F’ means Fertilizer, that Fertilizer which earns them their daily bread. So deep is their respect for their product that they christened their company’s residential quarters as Fertilizer Nagar. Lovingly called as F'Nagar. 

Invited by the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Roy (Mrs. Roy being an employee of this organization) to their new haven, I got an opportunity to visit this place and who had thought that one visit and I would fall in love with this place.

Located in the outskirts of Baroda, F’Nagar is situated at a distance which is about thirty minutes drive from the Baroda railway station. If you are a resident of this F’Nagar then conveyance is not a problem since the company offers a bus service which runs to and fro between the colony and the main city umpteen times on any given day. And a single journey costs you less than a rupee (Yes, this price is valid even if you are in the year 2013!).

Though located near to the fertilizer company, the atmosphere here is not at all hampered by the acrimonious smell of chemicals which usually surrounds such areas rather, the moment you enter the massive gate of the F’Nagar, you are welcomed by lush green gardens. All those trees and flowers which you must have learnt in your Botany class are available here and are definitely adding to the beauty of the place.

The employees are allotted with quarters on the basis of their cadres. As one moves up the career ladder, company ensures that one also moves to a bigger and a better home (and why shouldn’t be, after all it’s the law of nature). These houses are generally two storied and the construction is rock solid. Unlike cities like Mumbai and Kolkata, space here is not a problem and thus the quarters are built at a certain distance and follow certain symmetry.

When kids in Metro cities are acquainted with only two birds viz. the sparrow and the crow, kids at F’Nagar are privileged to see our National Bird Peacock dancing at their door steps.

Amenities like school and supermarket are inside the Nagar. Beauty Parlor is also available for the beauty conscious female residents. All daily needs being available in the vicinity of the quarters, people here seldom need to get out of the complex.

With long stretches of jogging tracks, a well equipped gymnasium, tennis and badminton courts around, this is actually a heaven for fitness freaks. If you feel that these facilities are common today even in the residential complexes built in confined spaces of cities then think again, because F’Nagar is also blessed with a Golf course and as if that was not enough, the place also flaunts a Cricket ground where state level cricket matches are played.

But as they say no place is hundred percent ideal and F’Nagar too is not an exception. Though very less, this Nagar too has its own drawbacks. It is very common for one to find snakes in the locality. Houses being built at a distance, there is a large space of no man’s land between each type of quarters. Though the Nagar offers you with various sports facilities but if you are not keen sportsman then sorry you will soon find boredom gripping you.

As it usually happens in company paid accommodations, people here are no alien to wasting resources like electricity and water. Tube lights and fans serve 24 x 7 no matter even if there is nobody to get served. Same is with water, house maids are seen washing the clothes or doing the dishes under continuous flow of water. People are to be blamed for such deeds but as one spends a lot of time at such “free” atmosphere, one unknowingly tends to develop such “waste” habits and all of us very well know that old habits die hard.

But these drawbacks are actually nothing when compared to the benefits and picturesque beauty which the Nagar offers. After all there is no better a pleasure than sitting in a verandah, sipping a hot cup of coffee with a novel in your hand, of course your loved one sitting on a chair next to you and a peacock dancing in front of your eyes.  

Oh God, it’s actually Heaven!

(And yes, completely mesmerized by the serene beauty of the place, I am eagerly waiting for the next invitation from the Roys!)

Dreaming down the Memory Lane...

A lazy Sunday morning spent in finishing the last part of Shiva Trilogy was followed by a historic afternoon; India whitewashed Australia 4-0. Not sure about what next, I decided to pay my regards to the Sleep Goddess. Yes, at 4 pm in the evening, I went to my bed chambers (Word inspired from Amish’s Shiva Trilogy). Hrishikesh Puranik may find resemblance to this act of mine as He is the one whom I know is the champion of sleeping at odd times.

Barely had I slept for two hours (only!) when half awake, I started dreaming.

I along with Omkar Deshpande had a ticket booked for the evening train to Shegaon. We had to attend the lectures scheduled for the next morning. It was final year. And as I was half awake, I was trying to recollect who my then room partner was. The left hemisphere of my brain said it was Mukesh Bhongade but the right one voted for Babloo Vaidya (It’s not short term memory loss; it’s just that I was half asleep!)

This dream was interrupted in between as my half open eyes saw the clock ticking to 7 pm. I can’t sleep now. After all there has to be a difference between Hrishi and me!!! (No offence taken!) Had I been in Hrishi’s shoes, I would have enjoyed sleeping a bit more!

But this dream took me down the memory lane. That 800 m long lane from Shegaon gate to Khamgaon gate; the hostels surrounding this lane was once our home where all of us had met for the first time.

In this span called Engineering The Puranik-Khandalkar-Joshi-Dabhadkar Family had gradually extended to Deshpande(s)* -Bhongade-Vaidya-Kothe-Mahajan-Patki-Kokle-Mankar-Pusam-Aaglawe-Alkari-Varadpande. [(s)* Omkar and Alok]

There are various anecdotes which if I start mentioning then each one of these can become a separate chapter of a 500 page book which may be called None of us is as Smart as all of us! (I hope you remember this line). But still there are few incidences which I simply can’t avoid mentioning here. Each one of which brings a smile on my face. Majority of them are from First year!

The year started with our names getting displayed all over the college. No we had not topped in any event or exam. We were actually fined for celebrating my Birthday in our own room and possessing a 2 in 1 Cassette player whose volume was not even sufficient to be heard in a 10 x 10 room. With our names getting displayed even in the Girls’ hostel, We were famous.

A day before a Unit Test when I was trying to concentrate on studies; three of my roomies were busy playing with the ‘Sauf ka Dabba’ and in came the Warden Bhambere!

Semester 1 exam began with M1 (Hrishi lovingly called it as YAM 1), at mid night few hours before the paper, few of our abysmal seniors had tried leak the next day’s paper. Not to mention, none of their provided questions could make an appearance in the actual paper.

A night before Mechanics paper; one Deshpande (Omkar) had increased my anxiety by enlightening me with the knowledge about previous year’s mass destruction which Mechanics had caused. The next day saw me getting eaten up by this paper. Six month later when I was to face this monster again, it was another Deshpande (Alok) who came to my rescue. He had wholeheartedly taught the concepts. After the result, he was angry that I had managed to barely pass and not excel in that paper.

One night after returning from Mumbai, Omkar started living in room no. D14 (our room, which was home for all, yes in Hindi we may call such homes as Dharamshala! agaon, no offence taken) never bothering his actual (on paper) roommates again.

The second semester exam when I suffering from Chicken Pox, had managed to clear all my NINE papers in one go. That was by all means my most successful semester (Not by marks but by the way how I had overcome the situation. Thanks to all the Mahol Pottes who stayed by me)

The rains in Shegaon when all had bathed at the terrace followed by hot Chai in canteen.

Hotel Krishna which used to serve Unlimited Thali at 25 bucks. Akshay used to eat 25 Chapatis there (and it’s not exaggeration). Ultimately the hotel was closed one day.

More Bhau’s Tapri, Ganne ka juice, the Mango Juice wallah (who was rumored to be suffering from AIDS!) were the regular places to satiate our hunger.

The New Year Celebration at Lala’s residence at Khamgaon and the Kharangana Morangana Trip at Pusams are few of the outings of Mahol Pottes.

Ketan and KK’s Gaming zone where Babloo and Akshay also marveled. Being a bad player, I never enjoyed.

Patki and Mukesh’s sketches, Mahajan’s weird acts can’t be forgotten.

The MANIA Photo shoot was just another weird thing which we did.  

PMC, The Benches near Khamgaon Gate, Rasika Dhaba, the temple, the faculty building…

Everything is a part of our cherished memories.

It’s now almost four years since we have engineered ourselves. All of us are now a part of corporate (I heard somebody saying bloody corporate!). Few amongst us married, many on the verge of getting married.

But everything from the Shegon days is fresh in mind as if everything happened just yesterday.

In the end as I am unable to find an appropriate end to this blog, I leave you with a picture which speaks better than these 919 words!

                                                                                                       

                                                                            

Imagination of a Creative Kid

Date:     February 24, 2013

Venue:  Outside CMAT Centre, Bandra

A bit anxious and a bit worried, I am standing outside the exam centre (for the umpteenth time) waiting for the janitor to let all of us in. It is when this good looking girl approaches me. She is fair and a bit taller than me (actually with my height just crossing five feet, most of the girls are taller than me). I start wondering why she wants to stand beside me.

But soon the secret unveils and she clarifies her motto and the conversation begins:

She:       Hi, are you here for CMAT?

I:             Yes (Short and Precise!)

She:       Actually, I am from ABC College of MBA and our College is about to organize GDPIs            for you guys on the basis of your CMAT results.

I:             Ah…  Okay

She:       So, can I have your name and number please?

I:             Nachiket, 9930…….

(Now with a bit difficulty she tries to pronounce my name and with an even greater difficulty tries to jot it down and like a good boy that I am, I come to her rescue)

I:             It’s

                N:           New Delhi

                A:            Ahmedabad

                C:            Cochin

                H:            Hyderabad

                I:             India

                K:            Kolkata

                E:            Ah… (Now what is E for???) Ernakulum

                T:            Tamil Nadu

I can clearly see a sigh of relief on her face after writing my Herculean Name. She smiles at me and hands me a copy of her college brochure.

She:       Thanks for providing your details; we will let you know if you qualify for the GDPI.

I:             Thanks, so are we done?

She:       Yes

The conversation actually ends here but the real conversation begins here not in person but in the most creative part of my body called The Head…

And here it goes:

I:             If we are done then, can I have a few details about you too?

She:       (A bit surprised) Yes, tell me

I:             What’s your name?

She:       Pooja (or Sonia or Katrina or XYZ… readers can imagine whichever feminine name they like)

I:           So Pooja, what do you study at (checking the name on the brochure) ABC College of      MBA?

She:       Finance (Short and blunt)

I:            Okay

She:       But why are you interested?

I:             Well, actually my parents are in search of a good bride for their only son and i.e. me. And to make     their life easy, I too have joined hands in this pursuit of theirs.

                So Pooja, I have clicked your photo through my eyes and have saved it in my heart. So, now if you can give me your number, I can inform you your result.

Before the imagination could go further, the clock ticks to 13:00 and the janitor makes a last call for the bloke called NACHIKET and thus this imagination ends here.

With this I leave the end of this imagination to my readers.

My well wishers can of course conclude this with the girl smiling at me and hence sharing her phone number (HAPPY ENDING!!!)

And those of you who don’t like me as such can think of any bizarre ending, after all it’s your creative mind.