In Vacant or in Pensive Mood

One weekend, I was trying out a feature I didn’t quite understand in my computer, and so I clicked the ‘Help’ link. A popup help window opened, and as I was reading through it, I found myself constantly thinking about the technical writer who must have published it. The faceless, nameless author of the Help content would have put in several hours of research, relentlessly pursued the developers and SMEs (subject-matter experts) for information, made over a hundred calls, and sent an equally overwhelming number of mails to clarify details. At the same time, this technical writer would have also had to deal with a pushy project manager from the developing team who believes that technical writing is the simplest job in the world, pressing deadlines to the writer’s face without giving a second’s thought to the fact that he himself couldn’t, if he tried, write to save his life! While the usual claim is that the Help document looks simple and understandable, and so must be easy to write

You know what the biggest curse to a writer is? Not having enough time to write! Having to live so many different roles in life that are apparently more important than writing for one’s pleasure, especially when the muses are at work. Take my case, for instance. My primary role, currently, is that of a student. And like all students, I have a lot of academic work on the top of my priority list, whether I like it or not. Whether or not writing is my passion, I need to put my assignments first in line. Here’s a situation I go through pretty often. It is about 8:00 pm, and I am just getting back from college, after a hard day. I have assignments on my mind, and tests that I need to prepare for. I am trying to plan out the few hours left in front of me before I have to start on a 2-hour journey back to college early the next morning. I have to stay up the whole night, I decide. There is no way I’m sleeping tonight! Worried thoughts haunt my mind, and I’m feeling pretty beat up already.

Once again, I managed to drag myself out of bed, bathe in heated water, dress up in a hurry, partially comb my wet hair, and finally rush to the bus stop at 6:45 am. My earrings and safety pins were still clenched in my fist, and the things inside the bag slung over my shoulder lay cluttered as I pulled out my ID card and wore it around my neck. The bus would be there any minute. The bus arrived at 6:50 am, and I boarded it with a smile, and waded through the aisle as I looked for a place to sit. Coming to two empty seats adjacent to each other, I dropped my bag into the first one, and slid my own self into the other one by the window. I opened out the closed window and immediately felt content as the pleasant morning breeze made its way in. Quickly, I organized the things in my bag, put on my earrings, pinned up my clothes wherever necessary, opened out my hair and combed it lightly. Then I adjusted my seat to just the right position; pushed back so that I could lean comfortably,

“It’s kinda funny how life can change. Can flip 180 in a matter of days...” - BLUE Our life is a journey, and it is what we make it to be. We draw up a course for ourselves; deciding, planning, contemplating, and taking determined steps into the future. But sometimes, life chooses to make changes on its own. Once in a while, it alters its course from the usual, and decides to take an unexpected turn. These changes break our mundane routines, and come as pleasant or unpleasant surprises. Either way, an unexpected challenge or change thrown at us by life causes us some excitement, urges us to be creative, and teaches us to think on our feet. Sometimes these changes are welcoming, but sometimes we don’t know what it has in store for us. Such was my opportunity to be associated with a multinational IT company. I was a student from a humanist stream of study, and I strongly believed against the IT industry. I disliked everything I knew about this industry; the centralised air-condi

One Sunday afternoon, I sat with a few cousins, my brother-in-law, and my youngest uncle, playing a game of Monopoly . When a certain argument started out at one point in the game, we had to refer the rules in order to settle it. The argument was regarding a certain sum of money I was to pay my brother-in-law. My brother-in-law claimed one thing, saying he always played the game online and that he knew the rules. I claimed that the rule with the traditional version of the game was different, and so we decided to look it up. My uncle, who played the ‘banker’ (and, for those who know the game, the person with the last say in Monopoly), read the rules and proclaimed it in favour of my brother-in-law. I wouldn’t have worried if it had been a fair decision. However, on reading the rule, it was pretty clear that the situation was actually in my favour. But the men had just decided it was more convenient for them the other way. Well, what could I say? It was the word of two people against

Walking towards my office building one morning, I looked skyward and noticed a few eagles soaring overhead. As I watched them, I was reminded of the white-chested sea eagles I had seen at the Vandaloor Zoo a few days ago. I tried to see if the eagles soaring above me were also white-chested. But they were way too far up for me to see the colour of their chests. I stood there for some time, looking up and thinking how much fun it must be to fly that high up and not even bother to flap your wings. Even as I thought this, my mind switched back to a picture of the eagles in the zoo, and the contrast stung me. I felt a little sad for the eagles in the zoo, for obvious reasons; they don’t get to do those fly-highs they must be so good at. All they get to do is to perch on low branches all day and stare at people who stare back at them or click their pictures. But then again, I argued with myself positively, the eagles in the zoo are being taken good care of. They are all well-fed and ha