Friday, October 26

Travelogue - Mukteshwar


It was Dushera, which meant a welcome holiday amidst the long six-day work weeks at the factory. We decided to get away from civilization, which is quite a natural feeling when you are in the land of Forests and Factories - Uttaranchal. Our shortlisted options this time consisted of a Touch&Come overnight Dehradun trip or a drive to the picturesque forests of Ranikhet or the small temple-hill town of Mukteshwar about 85 km from Haldwani. Finally the Atheist in me lost and we decided to visit Mukteshwar.

Getting up at 6am on a Sunday is possible only when you have joined a coaching class at Dadar or for an exam at 7am in a B-School or when an interesting new place is lined up for travel. Thankfully this time it was the most pleasant one of the three. Leaving by 7.15am, we hit NH87 and took the detour off the Nainital road towards Bhimtal. Even the off-roads are great, which should come as no surprise if you have already entered Uttaranchal from UP. We drove for an hour and got a bit bored of the chilly weather making us sluggish. The car parked safely, we began a small, half an hour trek through the beautiful trees and the comforting sunshine.


With some warmth in the bones, we drove on for another half an hour past some breathtaking scenery devoid of any human beings in the entire horizon. Uttaranchal is blessed. Period.


We drove near the Bhimtal Lake where we had been just a week ago and headed to the small town called Bhowali. After a short breakfast stop at a very cozy place overlooking the valley, called George’s, we took the road towards Ramgarh which happens not to be the one from Sholay. Duh!


Enroute the hills, a sudden moment of sanity made us realize how fucked up we were with the Fuel indicator at one stick. Thanks to some pretty awesome ‘Crisis Management’, 7 Bisleri bottles (filled with a suspected 33% Petrol, 33% Kerosene, 33% No-One-Knows-What) were purchased for 100 bucks each just to Play Safe. Finally we reached the temple at 11am and expected to see a grand 350 year old Shiva temple. Reality as often the case is a letdown of epic proportions. Not choosing to capture the disappointment of the small temple structure, we captured this view looking down from the temple.



The rocky cliff seen above is the famous Chauli ki Jaali, where legend has it that women who take out their head out of some hole amidst the rocks is blessed with a baby. Of course we headed out there immediately, our reasons being only slightly different – Rappelling and Rock Climbing.




The cliff has a safe height of 20m fit for adventure after which it becomes dangerous. Spending about 45 min and Rs. 800 for two people for both activities, we drove away from the temple to explore the ‘main market’ of Mukteshwar which had exactly 4 shops and a restaurant. No trip to a hill station is complete without having Maggi, and this one was no different! We drove past the Indian Veterinary Research Institute (IVRI) where we came across a rather interesting sign board.


Since there was not much to be done on the way back, we decided to stop randomly at places, clicking and enjoying beautiful sceneries like this one below.

When the mood gets a bit cranky, nothing like Chocolate to get things back. A European styled shop claiming to offer local made chocolate at rates upto Rs. 1800/kg made us salivate and sure enough we bought the costliest chocolate at the store.

 

After driving on for a further hour, we finally stopped at a ‘Tea Factory’ sign board which lead us on a half a km downhill detour through some of the most amazing Shire-like (LOTR) homes. The factory was not in operation that day but the shop and the Tea Gardens were open to visitors (possibly just the two of us in the whole day). Though the Himalayas aren't really known for its Tea plantations, the sights were just as pretty as the Nilgiri ones.


Already tired with the trekking, rappelling, rock climbing and the walking around, we decided to drive to Bhowali and then through Sattal, yet another lake in the Nainital district. Though nothing extraordinary, the lake was again pristine with just one other gang around. On the way back, for the first time in the day, navigation on Google Maps ditched us and the path shown ahead turned out to be a non-drivable, walk-only road. This resulted in a 15 min extra drive and we reached Haldwani at 7.30pm.

The day had just got more interesting for my partner-in-crime as Firefox had opened an outlet in Haldwani barely 24hr ago. With her long intended Firefox Target 21 speed All Terrain Bike being available, Rs.20,000 quickly exchanged hands and the result was one beaming kiddo. The night was then aptly concluded at midnight continuing from its early morning temple start, with the roadside Ramleela at Kathgodam. We in our metros can never challenge the sights and spirits of a small town where the whole family enthusiastically turns up in their festive attire to watch the same 3hr Ramleela year after year. Perhaps our materialistic world would do well to ask itself some of the questions we have forgotten to ask ourselves over time.  Why do we exist in the first place, for example.. The answer that we find out, might well be - Traveling!

Photos: Galaxy Note 2

Saturday, February 12

Last Day In Infosys..



/*******************************************************************************
Last Day In Infosys Mail
'*******************************************************************************
' Author:                  Harish Thangaraj
' Emp. No:                92339
' Date Created:        21/05/2010
' Code Name:           Summary of my Infy Life
' Description:           Bored of the way Last Day Mails are/were written
*******************************************************************************/


#include Mysore.h                                            /*Include the experiences from Mysore*/
#include Chennai.h
#include Pune.h

# define TRAINING_MYSORE 4                          /*Define training period in Mysore as 4 months*/
# define BENCH 2.5
# define PROJECT 26

void main ( )
{
                void Training.doc ( )                               /* First 5 stanzas indicate my own experience*/
                void TheGoodBad&Ugly.doc ( )
void Acknowledgements.doc( )
…………………………………….
…………………………………….
…………………………………….
…………………………………….
void ContactMe.doc ( )
                void YourDecision.jpg ( )

}

/*******************************************************************************
The End
'******************************************************************************/

Have a Happy and Hale Future Everyone. Keep in touch! And if possible, Do Remember me!

Thanks and Regards,
Harish Thangaraj

Training.doc


Note: Today (21st May) is the first anniversary of this tragic bus accident. This blog is a narration of my Mysore experiences and more importantly, a tribute to the ones we lost in the accident. Read further over here:



TheGoodBad&Ugly.doc
The Good:

The Bad:

The Ugly:


As with every sphere of life, there exists the odd black sheep here and there. Choosing not to wash dirty linen in the public, I have approached the relevant people with the concerns. Hope they will be addressed; as it is entirely in Infy’s best interests to do so! All the Best Infy, I will always remember you..!!

Acknowledgements.doc

In my exit interview, I have listed Peers / Co workers as the second best thing in Infy after the Mysore training. Having worked at some point of time in all of CTTJL, BY, GM/TM, Mobility, I have had a chance to work with a lot of like minded people.


Starting from the Night Shift gang of 2008, I want to thank Aditi, Ankit, Arpit, Jinesh, Nishant, Premal, Puneet, Shishir, Shruti, Surujit and others. They made the transition from the student life to the professional life quite smooth indeed.

Mobility team shared a great cubicle and I want to thank Amrita, Mona, Nilesh, Puja and Sachin for all the good times we had back then! Although we virtually have a new team in CTT now, I have been lucky to have worked with Ankit, Anup, Divya, Gavin, Raghav, Ritesh, Sahil, Yogesh and many others!

Thanks to all my college-cum-room mates in Pune. The list is long, but each of them matter just as much. Aarti, Ambrish, Amit, Bharti, Darshita, Deepa, Hemant, Khushboo, Parag, Pooja, Surujit, Salil. You guys made Pune, the next best thing to Mumbai! Not to forget the training pals – Kaushal, Madhura, Prasanna, Piyush and Siddharth.

It’s ‘The Party Rockers’ who have made me explore this city like no other. Our escapades will truly be cherished years down the line for obvious reasons! Abhishek, Anup, Arpan, Garima, Nachiket, Nishant, Rohan, Sahil, Sheetal. Are we guys crazy or are we mad! WE ROCK!! :P

Barring a particular manager who is no longer with Infy, I want to thank most managers I have worked with. Special thanks to Atul, Ravi and Partha for the consideration of leaves after filing my E-Sep.

In The End, It Always DOES Matter! Thanks Aarti, Amit, Garima, Nishant and Sheetal for being the people that you are and to Aditi for being special.

ContactMe.doc

The world is indeed round (Don’t trust that Friedman guy always). Either walk around the globe once so that we can meet again or simply use any of the following means to keep in touch!


http://harryfication.blogspot.com (My Publishing Zone)
Facebook
Orkut
Twitter
Linkedin
YourDecision.jpg


Quick Note: 
1. I quit Infosys on 21st May 2010. While my stint was not without its fair share of Crests and Troughs, amongst its comparable peers, Infy is easily the best IT company to work for in India.
2. MBA @ IIT Kanpur got changed to MBA @ Vinod Gupta School of Management, IIT Kharagpur.

Monday, July 26

July, the 26th

Genre: Real Life (2005)

'Mumbai will be made into a Shanghai' announced our PM back in 2004. A massive infrastructure boost was planned - flyovers, metro rails, monorails, freeways, skyscrapers, etc etc and finally a slum free Mumbai! I always hated these slums. They made my walk everyday to Andheri station into such a messy ordeal. The hypocritical Indian media had told me they steal my share of power, water and infrastructure without paying any taxes. So true I thought; Throw them back to their villages for spoiling my beautiful city.
It seemed just another day at college. Except that the calendar read 26/07/2005. Rains were deficient again for July. The Met Department had given out its customary 'Heavy rains in isolated areas likely' warning. Yawn… Around 10am, the sky was turning gloomy. I played Nostradamus and advised my friend who stayed far away to leave early as ‘there will be rain today like no other this season’. I thought I was just joking! But the assault started soon enough. A gallon of water fell from the stars exactly every 0.14 nanoseconds. We watched nature's awe from the comforts of our classroom. Rumours of trains getting delayed trickled in. Excitement built up with the prospects of a half-day. We wished for the rains to continue and then it would be a reality. But nature had other sinister plans..
The inevitable happened at 2.30pm. Emergency alarms asked us to evacuate immediately. But a self-proclaimed Hitler loyalist from Germany was specially imported to start lectures from that particular day itself. Obviously, lame entities like Mumbai rains and trains were too insignificant compared to her all-too-important lectures. The rest of the college vanished and finally we were released from the Nazi prison at 3pm after a long wait. So began the journey, to the Andheri railway station, a 15 min walk from college usually. We played in the rains splashing water from the small streams flowing on the sides of the road. The photographer in me rises from deep slumber with such adventures. I pulled out my proud Nokia 3200 and took shots with its princely 0.3mp camera. Everyone was awed by the only camera phone in the class back then. What clarity in the pictures dude..!
As we walked, we saw cars and bikes disappearing under water. More snaps were taken. We were now walking against waist deep water, hitting us at a great speed. We saw a 3ft long piece of tar road whizzing past us in the water. Meters away, a bike was flowing in the river, the rider trying desperately to balance himself on the seat. Great snaps they made. A woman was being swept away. We rushed to grab her. Three girls were standing on the sides of the road crying. We asked them to join us. They turned out to be first day freshers in College, travelling on their own in the ruthless Mumbai trains and rains for the very first time. Yeah, God was indeed being kind to them! Within minutes, the water had risen to our chests and manholes gushed out water with a ferocious force. Manhole covers went swirling around in the water, invisible from the surface. The reason, as we later found out later, was that the rivers (read gutters) of the city had overflown onto the streets during a 5m high tide due to which the sea water-gates were closed.
We were now holding hands to avoid falling over. And then suddenly, the 20 people strong human chain collapsed. The size 0 and size -ve girls had to be held tight to prevent them from being carried away with the water. A circle was created with these people being the centre. The guys in the circumference were facing the fury of the flood. Our legs moved zigzag as we could not balance against the angry flow. Across the road, an Auto had turned turtle and was hurling around hitting the totally submerged parked cars. For the next few moments, we just held hands, some shrieked, cried, prayed while the flood waters ferociously took us along at its will. Doomsday seemed seconds away.
In times of crisis, Life often throws the unthinkable. In the madness of the floods, a rope was being thrown across the road. A few men were tying the loose ends to trees on both sides. The first few ones amongst us being washed away with the water collided with a jerk. These men formed a human chain along the safer side of the chain and started pulling them to the sides. A few unlucky ones around flowed under the rope either to be rescued at the next rope 200m away or drown by then. Luckily all of us managed to hold onto either the ropes or to people who had already held onto these ropes. We walked along the rope and perpendicular to the flow direction, and finally to the side of the road, from where a Stairway (to Heaven) was visible.
As the waters rose still further, we were quickly led up a small hill which had slums stacked along its slope. The men who had thrown the rope turned out to be from these huts. We walked against the waterfall along the steps as we gained ground and were led to a dark room which was opened for us. Words were exchanged in Marathi and within minutes people converged with tea, biscuits, farsan and candles. Towels were arranged. Ladies from the slums invited us to stay in their huts as the night was fast approaching. We stood there speechless at their love..
They started a game of Antakshari to liven up our traumatized minds. We were too exhausted to resist. As the tempo built up in the dark candle lit room, I saw a few men running upstairs to bring down a thicker rope. On enquiring I found out that the rope had given way, not before saving quite a few. But now, an auto driver from their own slum was just washed past the initial rope. The men frantically raced past us. The song being sung was 'Hum Rahe Ya Na Rahe, Yaad Aayenge Yeh Pal' by KK. I froze. Next to me, a friend had just overheard the whole conversation. Tears rolled down her eyes as she was humming the tune. Aah, life can be cruelly strange sometimes..
With no sign of the rains relenting, we decided to move on to the college for the night through the hills. The whole area was disappointed with our decision not to spend the night at their hospitality. We took a further supply of biscuits and candles for the night and tried paying the old man who sat at the 5x5ft shop. To our surprise he abused us in Marathi and asked us to take it back immediately. Stunned at his reaction, and at life in general, we placed a couple of 100 rupee notes and ran away shouting 'Thank You's to him. Never came to know what happened to those notes. Probably it ended up torn in a dustbin if his initial reactions were to be noted.
My college being at a higher ground, water levels were not above the waist level. We moved onto the hostel buildings through the dense greenery of the campus. It was already dark and the biggest fear was snakes crawling in the water. Thankfully we made it safely through. Later we waded through waist deep water and travelled to the mess nearby. Dal-Kitchdi was made in bulk and the floating chairs had to be 'caught' with the hands and sat upon. Sitting and eating with your waists above water should be added to the list of 100-things-to-be-done-before-you-die. Washing of the plates and spoons happened by dipping them in the flood water around.
In pitch dark conditions we again created a human chain and walked back to the rooms. A mini carnival was planned there. Hostelites called it a night to remember as otherwise localites are not allowed into the rooms. 15 people enjoyed the night in the 10x10ft room till 3am and later dispersed to unknown rooms for bed. My cell angered by the shabby treatment it received from its photographer refused to be my loyalist anymore. The photos of the day were lost forever along with all the data inside it. Nokia successfully increased its new 3250 sales later in the week!
At 8am, the girls and boys converged from their respective hostels and we moved to my place. Water had receded from the roads. Left behind were stray cars and bikes and huge craters in the road washed away. Garbage and plastic stuck on top of the stranded buses, indicating the water level had reached 10+ feet the previous evening. Smashed car windows and small rocks and silt greeted us all along. 8 deaths occurred in the area with one being inside the college campus.
By 5pm, a few trains started running with a frequency of one hour. Mumbai was now trying to rise from the catastrophe of the night before. It had rained 944mm in the suburbs in the past 24 hr and 360mm in the 3 hours from noon to 3pm when the water had risen ferociously. To put it in perspective, Mumbai usually gets 2000mm spread across 4.5 months. The negative counts increased. Around 450 were confirmed dead most of them drowned or washed away and some due to landslides in the hillside slums. In addition, nearly 4000 buffalos had drowned as the cattle owners did not want to untie these animals from the dairy farms.
Power was restored to some areas after 10 days in some areas. Flooding of 30 feet was reported at Air India colony. Stories of courage and tragedy dominated headlines for weeks. People had been carried along for hundreds of meters to be rescued by roadside samaritans. A classmate was taken to a flat by a lady and in the morning she woke up frightened that she was alone with a man, the lady's husband who then calmed her down saying aunty has just gone downstairs. Another friend reached his home 60 hours after the rains began. He walked 70km over 3 days. All along he could not even connect to his home. His mother collapsed at the door seeing him alive.
We remembered the heroes who had saved us. Why did they need to risk their lives to save us all? Some of them lost theirs in the process as was reported by the papers. Where does Mumbai get this habit from? No other city in this country or world would have come out in such a magnitude and lent out its hand in such times. The reason might be simple; Mumbai has 60% of its population in slums; People, for whom humanity and humility mean much more than wealth and status. People, for whom ego means nothing, love means everything.
Fittingly, at around the same time, the Congress high command (Sonia Gandhi) in a totally independent order asked all further encroachment demolition drives to be cancelled permanently. Obviously they played the vote bank card, but I was happy to see my city still remain Mumbai and not turn into a Shanghai. Both the cities have their own uniqueness which should not be fiddled with.

Quick Note:
1. This is also the same Mumbai which charges Rs.100 for a mineral water bottle for helping a victim when a bomb has just ripped apart 200 people nearby. Or where 200 ARMED policemen keep hiding outside CST railway station inside police vans because they were too afraid to face Ajmal Kasab and his accomplish one fine November night. Such is the idiosyncrasy of the City of dreams..

Thursday, November 12

Spirituality, Sanctity and Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar

In the Animal kingdom, the male lion is considered the ultimate ruler of the land. A typical lion pride consists of two males and a dozen females. Yet, when the all-powerful males are challenged by young nomadic males, the erstwhile rulers of the land are forced to abandon their territory and are injured and cursed to a slow death. It is no doubt cruel, but that is how nature is meant to work.

Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar has always been challenged. For the last twenty years, he has been challenged by the stalwarts and the gullible alike. They tried to dethrone him time and again, but lost and then simply moved. From the time civilization flourished, there have been stories of awe and inspiration where mankind has defied the limits defined by the Almighty and embarked upon a journey to achieve a place amongst the Gods. The Gods of course, don’t want a mortal to share their same cult status. But when a man revolts, awakens, inspires a nation of a billion, the power of love in a billion hearts results in a resonating frequency of oscillation which eventually renders even the Almighty impotent. This was not how it was meant to be. He was to retire after playing for a few years and then lead a happy family life with all the money earned. But some people challenge destiny, and when they have the courage to do that, they often succeed.

It is not often that both atheists and theists from different religions, witness Godliness in its purest form and that too, emanating from a human. God cannot be defined universally. He is the omnipotent, the creator, the destroyer, the planner, the executor, the controller or simply free will, faith, or destiny. For the more practical atheists, Divineness is the feeling when you lose yourself in meditation or when you are sloshed in your addiction or when you go through an orgasm or when you love someone unconditionally or when you overcome the boundaries of the society and speak or act from your soul and you find yourself surprised. At such times your energy level escapes the levels credited as sane in everyday life and you experience a tangible feeling which to date has never been explained satisfactorily by science.

Confine yourself to a dark room. Close your eyes. Think of the perfect stance, the perfect grip, the perfect man. Think of the bat hitting the ball, the sweet sound it crackles, envisage the ball rushing through the covers, the straight drive, the upper cut, the hook, the pull, the leg glance, the flick off the pads, the charging down the wicket, the graceful back lift. Experience the wave of tranquility travel from the head through the spine, to the toe. This is the true manifestation of spirituality - to reinvent, rejuvenate yourself. And the one who helps you attain this bliss is The Holy Guru.

India was a very different country in 1989. Deprived, Dependent, Deplorable, Distressed, Depressed. One man took on the mantle to change that. An average Indian returns to his home after yet another oppressive day at work. Then he watches the legend play live on TV and he forgets the unyielding day that just went by. Now imagine this with a billion people, over a period of 20 years. Today, in 2009, we are an optimistic nation. A new generation has been woken up, lead from a state of despair towards hope and beyond. One man has been as much influential in the spiritual progress of this nation as any other in the history of mankind.

For twenty long years, he has held his own. Human memory does not even stretch itself to such a long period. Can everyone even appreciate ‘twenty years’ objectively? It is one third of India’s age. Yet, the same passion, flair, flamboyance and panache are on display, every single time he takes the field with a willow in hand. How difficult is it to fight against a tiring, fragile, broken body with just your mind and will power. Not very, if you have the mental strength to face a deadly Waqar Younis on a fast Karachi pitch with a bleeding face. This after getting hit on the face on your debut match at the age of 16. We must have been in Kindergarten, crying over a broken toy or some crap when the genius had taken his first few steps to glory. And today, after experiencing the joys of yet another masterpiece from the great showman, the country is again overwhelmed and awed by the power of human achievement. In fact, ‘Indianness’ would never have been the same, but for him.

But reality, much like life in general, is a great leveler. The Law of Balance states that ‘When you have the adroitness fit for the Heavens, you often have a bane of unexplained failure. Even the ‘Destined One’ can do only so much. He has been blessed with unfathomable grace, unimaginable talent, unmatched commitment, uncountable records, unparalleled passion. And yet, he has this one chink in his armor – of not being to conclude things, of not being able to win important matches or World Cups, which lesser mortals easily accomplish. It will haunt, torment him, his teammates, his countrymen, his fans around the globe. Aptly they say ‘Sach is Life’. Yet, this very tragic aspect of his game will make his story an epic in the years to come. Victory is not the purpose of sport; the Quest for Heroes is. And there are not many who have attained a status as magnanimous as his.

Yet again we lost a Sachin v/s Australia match. As Australia won and India lost, one man towered over mundanely mortal creations like countries and borders. One man won in a field of Twenty-Two. Tragedy often has an idiosyncrasy associated with it which aids in savoring the jubilation of the impending heyday. Thus, the 5thof November 2009, forever will be remembered for the magic created by a certain Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar in what was an exemplary spectacle of humanity knocking the gates of Godliness and ultimately swooping past it altogether.

The sky is often at its romantic best just before the dusk. As the sun slowly sets in the distant horizon, luxuriate in the Sanctity while you still can..

sachin

SACHINIZATION [Sa-ch-inai-za-shen] - noun

1. The act of redefining an art as it was previously known to mankind.

2. The process of converting from Atheism to Monotheism.

Monday, October 5

Bombay Dreams And The Raj Nightmares

Mood: Outraged

Song: Salaam BOMBAY

'Mumbai ka don kaun?' growled Biku Mhatre in the movie Satya. But sometimes the problem is that, an ant living in a mountain hole forgets what it really is – a tiny ant. When people give it undue importance, the ant starts growing in arrogance and mistakenly assumes that it can represent the whole mountain itself..

Komal Johar recently apologized to me and other residents of Mumbai because he agreed it was criminal to call my city ‘Bombay’. KJo showed the world that even he can be ‘straight’ sometimes by saying “I have genuinely committed a mistake. I apologize for it.” Bravo KJo, it indeed takes courage to stoop like this.

Being straight was never his/her (still confused) cuppa tea. Dobby Barling recently suffered a broken heart. No, it was not coz Akshay Kumar refused to star opposite him/her, but coz his/her new found love interest was not returning his/her calls and messages. Who? Munaf Patel. All doubts about Love being blind are cleared now! Ewww…

Taj Rhackeray has upturned the politics of Maharashtra recently. Everyone awaits his next circus with bated breath, be it his followers or his adversaries. Nobody wants to upset him; a post-poll alliance with him might work wonders for self. Such love is of course enviable, only that Nazism also appealed to the Germans back then.

Coming back to ants, did you know the Queen Ant mates with several males at one go and then uses the stored sperm at her own will, throughout her lifetime! It’s tough being a male in this world; only one babe and then you die after the first hit. Thankfully humans don’t work that way!

The phenomenon called RT has managed to draw so much media attention to himself in the past several months, that he’s now got the ultimate coverage – He’s on Harryfication now! Successful leaders have always been great manipulators. They conduct a thorough SWOT analysis of the situation and act accordingly. Much like Hitler, RT manages to provoke his audience through his carefully worded speeches. He instigates the natives of this state who have been left behind in the progress of the past decade. Quite simply, it is a brain wash that captures the imagination of the less-educated, deprived and thus a violent class of residents. It often works wonders coz the target population can not think for itself.

The ruling DF Govt. has been woefully pathetic in addressing issues related to industry, agriculture, farmer suicides, etc. The Sena-BJP opposition has been equally spineless. With the Sena being weakened with an ailing mass leader, the charismatic RT has managed to rise over his rather subdued cousin. People like him are opportunistic by-products of a collapsing system in which there is just no development for majority of the local population. People from outside have come, seen and conquered, while a few natives have been left behind in the process of watching others. When a channelized route appears for this discontent, it simply spills over.

Though I would prefer Mumbai, if calling this city ‘Bombay’ can be an insult to ‘Marathi pride’, it indicates a fractured line of thinking. Marathi pride goes much deeper than merely spelling out names. It can be truly experienced in the way the state remembers its heroes, the way it celebrates its zillion festivals throughout the year, the way it honors its artists, poets, etc. Native Maharashtrians have given this city the spirit of tolerance and resilience which is unparalleled in any other city (read my next blog!). Therein lies the uniqueness and true pride of Maharashtra. I don't need authoritarians to tell me what my state is all about.

If RT was genuinely interested in the welfare of the people here, he would have been fighting for the rights of suicide-ridden farmers in Vidarbha, not ransacking movie halls or beating helpless daily wage workers. Shake Up & Wake Up Raj!

Quick Note: If anyone doubted my capability of writing short posts, the first 5 stanzas are 55 word fictions by themselves. Just did it. Tick!