Migratory Birds....

Change is the only constant..as I move forward, each passing day I am enriched by the authentication of this sentence..The overtones of this surprising constant factor makes me relearn several things...One change that i am witnessing is about an acquaintance whose change has put me to ponder about several things of female liberalisation...
The idea of a muted ,weak and subjugated woman is easily replaced by the new age woman who can assert all her power and position, Marrying to comply with family code of honour is replaced with a lady who no longer feels burdened by one man woman kinda status...Aspirations are high , very very high and this free bird  would not even mind protracting erotic tease  by showcasing  her bare skin...Her mindset which was subdued due to pitiless male gaze is empowered by new forms of liberation of smoking and drinking...And I am appalled, or rather have now started to get a hang of it....
I love the way there are ladies who have modernised , without being "Badnaam" , without weighing down the significance of some beautiful attributes of being a lady in a real sense...Elegant, poised, caring, matched with contrasts of playfulness, boldness and strength...I don't know why do i need to get drunk to prove that i am a modern girl..probably my beliefs still come from some old school of thought...i have probably not migrated and probably not adapted to the open skies where these birdies are flying...
Coexisting is good, but "being in it" just because of some sort of pressure or to gain acceptance is wrong...adapting trends to comply with some confused set of norms and becoming shallow ...is something i completely abhor....
We are of the You Tube, Facebook generation, open to a hell lot of things. In the wake of migrating from "boring" to "COOL" are we forgetting basic values..or will it become defunct..and vestigial?

Sunrise Sunset

"Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze"
I still remember the tune , a song which was part of  my routine of growing up..As i studied in a convent where the third language was definitely not french, German or Sanskrit ; it was perhaps choir songs and prayers..but the faint tune of this song is still etched in my heart...
Time is so ephemeral , like a puff of smoke dissipating in the wind ...But that's the sweetness of life, events good or bad pass by and you somehow tend to move on with the flow...Today being a twenty something I realise how a tiny tot transforms to a lady replete with honour, skill and grace..it is the journey of a little child whose eyes would have always sought for parents directions to a thriving youth who now willfully abandons any piece of advice that passes through the ears...
How brilliant were those episodes of innocence , the carefree laughter, the fairy tales and now its a twinge of regret that seeps in because those memories rest in the wake of reality .However, i realise that learning is an inevitable offspring of life, sometimes forced, sometimes picked up naturally.In events as trivial as a get together and as important as intimate discussions with loved ones you get acquainted with various lessons which you may have never fathomed.
Today i wonder how have i learnt the language of silence, the beauty of acceptance, the mathematics of profit, the science of understanding, the strength to revolt, the perseverance to carry on , the flexibility to adapt, the touch of poise , the art to value people and not things...
Yes I have grown up...
grown up to face the vagaries and strife...
comforted by a kind word, a smile...
grown up to quench my thirst to perform...
drink my pain , life a melodious song...
yes I have gown up to earn...
an honest compliment, and to condone..
make gains and  be an open heart.
smallest act of caring ,would never keep your soul apart...
P.S : Definitely have not learnt poetry:P

Straight from my Heart !!!!!!!!!!!!

Is it a result of a careless abandon of my little writing space or a conscious move to do
 something really about it ?i am perhaps still unaware, however my final resort is to
change.My previous blog name somewhere did not do justice to what i actually was
writing about and what purpose it had..well it is a catharsis , drowned in emotions , not
conforming to any rules , it is what i have to offer and not what others have to hear..it is
straight from my heart!!
I faceless in the crowd ,
seek to transform image...
into perfect , into proud...
And soar through with courage..
my scribes and writings
be voice to my world : muted, confined
words be surrogates of  my learnings..
of events, of people ,of life...
endlessly submerged with passion.
My writing is in its embryonic stage, still evolving , nurtured by experience . I am
still unaware of "what" are the different styles of writing , "how" to have an audience
and "when and how frequent " should i write...Reason : i am lousy and partly because
i am busy . In between i did the mistake of giving answers to such questions which is
quite evident from my latest blog posts and therefore i realised a simple point:
it is not the numbers nor about some tips to increase traffic on my page,
it is about adhering to what I can share at my  best and that  perhaps is writing, writing
from my heart.

IT-work-a-hell-ic

After spending ten long months in the IT industry, there is a tacit agreement that work is definitely not worship.An industry which has the glut of opportunities but a dearth of satisfaction.An industry where risks rock the fragile boat of career always .An industry when you are really good, its okay but when you are bad , its horrid...
There is a genuine boom , with  definite grandiose touches. So here is a peek a boo into the ever demanding, ever growing IT industry...
CERTI-MAN: Knowledge never exists until it is tested and certified . If you thought gone are the days when you used to burn the midnight oil in giving exams, wake up. Certifications are your life jacket which would sail you through the adamantine walls of success... Well here is a reality check:
BLAH-Blah Manager:  Yes he is the enchanter , who would give you plenty of gyan , would bribe you with rosy dreams and dump you if you dare not follow his orders.

Horrifying HR: You will be tied up with policies like mosquitoes in a cob web. These policies would cling leech like sucking the slightest vestige of pure comfort.
 
Cubicle Your Den, Your Home :
Honey , your space is shrunken. Your den clustered with many
more and of course the company of your new found sweetheart - THE PC.

Holiday Blues: Vacations are a blessing in disguise, for your project will always be critical and you are the only Resource required.

Imbued with the angst of being a fresher( bottom of pyramid) and informed by the vast pool of frustrated engineers I have woven a dismal picture. After reading this sarcastic script , I offer you something more my nimble mind could produce :
The ultimate SWOT Analysis:
Strengths: Handsome salary for a beginner,provides a number of low-cost business options to tap higher productivity , repeat business, businesses are able to remain buoyant even amidst the economic recession, higher connectivity and exposure to global work.
Weakness: The pool is extremely large and demanding. You may be stuck up doing the same work for years. Long hours, shift timings, working according to clients calendar.
Opportunities: Onsite is the most lucrative opportunity you could grab.
Threats: The moment you think you will be promoted a lateral hire may swap your position. If you do not perform you could easily be replaced.

The Mirror….

A voice within is silent,
losing its loquaciousness midst the noisy crowd...
unnerved by revelations...
but shadowed by misinterpretations cloud...
the self camouflages its identity..
through multifarious forms and roles...
pure, unadulterated would perhaps be serendipity...
unearthed in deep holes...
i seldom soliloquise that in a life burgeoning with opportunities ,
why everyone gets into different moulds...
like wet clay having no potential
and succumbing to the potters interpretations....
Would it require another renaissance to jolt the predictable minds...
why aspirations are mere means to get money or another position...
My genre of peers are oft found following trends, where creativity and thinking seem defunct...
there may be degrees , there may be profiles and accolades to boast ,
 but all seem the same with perhaps different names...
its an ocean deep and voracious,
with mimics of different trends.
passions rest like pearls in oysters...
originality  pricelessly  contained...
There comes a Bhagat who inspires anyone to write the  same college tales...
A size zero Bebo motivates zillions to grow thin and pale...
IIT's , IIM's  become destinations to be king of the flock...
and the black sheep suffer with a thinking block..
When I look into the mirror,
with my  fringes and flocks ....
Is it me who is standing...
or someone similar to the many in stock...

Not just Routine

The present rocks the fragile self with multifarious tasks to perform; suffocating , overshadowing its identity.

Like the wind that always flow I move on sometimes complaining,Sometimes unaware to the future through the turbulent waters of time.

Just laze around and doing mundane things in the garb of relaxation, I often feel why my life is so predictable.

For most of my actions are covered in the sheet of duties , responsibilities, job and my creative soul lurks behind the dominance of so called routine.

For every stroke of paintbrush I sacrificed ,

I painted an achieving life…

For every flow of words my pen sacrificed ,

I wrote my story of progress…..

From school, to college, to now work I drifted through space and time laden both with happiness and tears.However , in the wake of prioritising,I abandoned my brainchild , my creativity.

I think therefore, from now on my interests should not be some black words written in my resume , they should be like babies , which grow only by nourishing.I shall now follow those inherent and sweet pursuits which are not just routine….

“Without passion man is a mere latent force and possibility, like the flint which awaits the shock of the iron before it can give forth its spark."

— Henri Frederic Amiel