We Have Moved…

Henceforth, find us at https://ashishandradhika.wordpress.com/



Comments from the past:

9 Mar 2008, 4:24pm

Hey Ashish,

fullhyd.com is coming out in a new avatar in about 10 days, with a much slicker blogging section. Why not continue here? Please send your email address to webmaster at fullhyd.com, and we’ll give you a link to the beta of what your blog looks like there, and the control panels to see all you can do. Cheers.

P. S. I tried to post this on your other blog, but it doesn’t seem to be allowing commets – I was getting a HTTP 500 Internal Server Error.

Khattam Shud

“Because everything ends,” Rashid explains, ” because dreams end, stories end, life ends, at the finish of everything we use his name, its finished, it’s over, Khattam Shud: The End.”

Salman Rushdie (Haroun and the Sea of Stories)

Its necessary for things to be taken to a logical conclusion… rather than leaving them in an uncertain limbo…waiting to exhale…

I have come to the end of my random ramblings for the moment…though I will not stop strolling for sure.

Hope to meet you again… have made few friends here. Keep in touch mates ๐Ÿ™‚


Comments from the past:

25 Jan 2008, 9:40am

Yeah… have a mail id too ๐Ÿ™‚


Bye Bye Bangalore

A City steeped in the rains, green roads crawling around Caf้ ƒoffee Day outlets, colonial churches competing for space with the trendiest malls, a crowd buoyed by optimism ? and money, a town of astounding ambition and an infrastructure trying hard to match pace with the aspirations of its inhabitants? Bangalore was all this and much much more.

I recently spent nearly a month at Bangalore, it was the best season to visit the city they said.. not that I had a choice, my company has a habit of sending you to places at a days notice which you might have otherwise never ventured to on your own.

Work was hectic, but the weekends were mine? They say that the best way to know a city is to see it through the eyes of a person who belongs there? and I was lucky enough to have two friends with me who were just that? a beautiful couple who belonged to Bangalore as much as they belonged to each other.

It was a strange feeling, to be escorted around the city as if you were still a kid, to be a silent partner to discussions on which would be the best place to eat out at night, to be allowed not to make a single decision over the entire weekend and yet be comforted that you were in good hands?

Whether it was basting your own barbecue on a rain kissed Saturday evening at a roof top restaurant at Indira Nagar, or spending a lazy Sunday morning gorging on omelets at a century old caf้ ฏn MG road? or a fantastic dinner at the 13th floor of a building, the twinkling lights of Bangalore spread out on to the horizon, or just ambling idly through the alleys of Bangalore with no specific purpose in mind, it really turned out to be one of my most enjoyable weekends ever.

We spent the night talking about the times that had gone by, about the friends we made and lost, about the times we shared and our plans for the future. Strangely, I felt extremely at home in a flat with two persons with whom I had never really spent much time with before.

Come to think of it, we always knew that we enjoy spending time together, yet it took a forced trip from my company which helped me go see my friends in person. Just about how many friends have I lost over the years, because I never found the time to meet them. Is it really true that we did not have the time to attend that particular friends wedding, or just do away with a phone call when someone lost a loved one. Or rather, was it really necessary to use up my vacation to attend the engagement of a cousin I had not cared to remain in touch, and would not care to remain in touch in future. Just made me wonder, how many times have I given priority to half hearted family connections over friends I have shared my life with.

Guess this is what friends are for, they let you in their lives with no questions asked, and make you feel at home in any corner of the world. You know they will share your joy and will leave you alone when you want to be quiet and not take offence. And finally, when its time to say Good Bye, they make you feel that you really mean something to them, something that is not forced like a hand-me-down relationship, but something that is needed and hard to find at times, a friend.

Comments from the past:

20 Jul 2007, 3:05pm

๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ and a big hug!

10 Aug 2007, 10:02pm

I think its time for you to write a book…you have the potential dude!!!

16 Oct 2007, 10:31pm

Damn neat man…you spoketh thy heart’s words.

9 Nov 2007, 9:43pm

Hi ashish…..jus read a few of ur blogs….u write stuff that really reaches the heart! i liked it a lot…looks like u’ve been blogging for ages…never knew that! do keep posting!

That Summer, That Year

It all used to start off the day we went to school for collecting my final report card. Then along with a yellow sheet full of ticks and marks, the teacher would attach a list of books for the next class. Did I care about the list then? What do you think J? For me the list would be forgotten during the all too short eight weeks of summer holidays. The scorching hot afternoons scented damp by desert coolers, the balmy evenings spent watering the plants in our backyard, watching clods of soil soak up water and decompose in effervescent bliss? taking my dogs out for walks all over the school campus where we stayed? and endless games of monopoly and Ludo? the holidays could not have seemed shorter and more inadequate !

Then one fine day? around the first week of July every year, standing tall in the front of the scooter, I would lead my parents to the local bookshop. I guess we bought stuff from the same bookshop every year, for me as well as my brother.

And as I would peep over the counter, the uncle at the shop would haul over a readymade set of books,? Class 4 Na, Colvin College???. And suddenly, I could not wait to get back home.

Its not that I was in love with all my books, I mean who wants to look at yet another book on arithmetic, or science, or grammar !! It was the literature books which I could not wait to read from cover to cover. I still feel that some of the finest stories I have read were found in my text books, Hindi and English. The Radiant Readers, Gulmohars and Hindi Sahitya Shrinkhalas? But I guess, the opinion could be just mine?

And finally, one afternoon, my mother would dump a large pile of books and notebooks on the carpet, and the entire family would be busy for the next couple of hours, covering the books with brown paper and sticky labels. Guess it was a scene repeated in every home with kids at school? the entire family sitting in a circle, the hum of a cooler and snips of scissors punctuating requests for passing the tube of glue, or a label, or a fresh roll of brown paper. There was always a dispute between my and my brother, about which labels were meant for whom.

Eventually, on a (usually) wet July morning, I would find myself standing in front of the school gate, suitably attired in the school blue, smelling of shoe polish and boroline, hair neat parted and a shining new water bottle in hand, weighed down by my school bag but excited on seeing so many of my friends at once.

The first day of school after vacations?.the welcome address in the morning assembly, the choir singing ?Vande Mataram?, the sequential reciting of names in the class, a new class teacher, a new time table, a new class room and the same mad rush for the gates when the final bell rang?

When the focal point of the day would be a plastic toy one got free with Binaca toothpaste, and a relaxed evening would involve playing hopscotch with the local gang till the time our mothers threatened violence?.

When a trip to the market meant excitement and a toffee was something you saved money to buy? I guess all of us are some distance away from it all.


Let me get back to my work now ?..

Comments from the past:

29 Mar 2007, 3:37pm

Hey really gud one and it?s very true. This happens in every summer vacation in every house:)

29 Mar 2007, 4:34pm

It can’t be any different for me also:)

29 Mar 2007, 5:30pm

Its the story of my life too :)…Seems like u wrote about me..lol. But what amazes me is how you could bring it all out from the back of your mind and like an artist with his brush,bring back all those memories, as if it happened yesterday—Refreshingly fresh!!! lol (please don’t kill me for my garmmar,Literature Champ) ๐Ÿ˜‰

29 Mar 2007, 7:26pm

Ah! Got too nostalgic ….At once made me remind my summer vacations…Wondered how could it be the exactly same everywhere(aftr reading the fellow-comments). Reading all the literature books, non-details(donno wat u call it) and enjoying the class when u know all the suspense at the end ๐Ÿ™‚ Lol

30 Mar 2007, 10:31am

same feelings here ๐Ÿ™‚

31 Mar 2007, 3:40pm

Am nostalgic!! i loved those days & we are really far away from those days now…
Its really written well!!

My Mother

I still remember the way she used to call out my name. Her voice ringing with exasperation at my repeated refusal to have breakfast in the morning. I just had to have something sweet in the morning, or for all other meals at that? but the ritual drinking of milk in the morning was something on which me and my mother never agreed upon.

Thus used to start my day, and hers, with a pitched battle being fought over the dining table. With threats emanating from the kitchen till I downed that disgusting tumbler of milk. I was not a kid then, I was Sixteen, old enough to carry my own ego around on a pedestal.

And there were times when I made her cry, well almost. I knew I had crossed a boundary beyond which a son hurts a mother?s sensibilities, when her threats fell silent, and things became unbearably silent at meal times. All I can do is to smile wryly when I think of those days now. What an ass I had been.

Sixteen, the age when you are a man enough to take a girl out, but not a man enough to hold her hand in front of her father. I was just getting to know my mother, as a person. How I used to envy my elder brother who used to have long conversations with her, sitting next to her, while I was still treated the like kid in the family, which I was.

At sixteen, I think my mother started treating me like an adult for the first time in my life. She spoke with me of things which only a mother can say and get away without making you realize that she actually knows what you have been up to while she wasn’t around.

She used to teach me Hindi and Sanskrit, in preparation for my class 10th board exams. She had been a University topper in Sanskrit, and she left it all to go and marry the man she loved, against the wishes of most of her family. I won a medal for the highest score in Sanskrit at my school? I lost that medal, don?t know where it lies amongst the debris I have strewn across my various dwellings in India, but I do remember the special meal she cooked to celebrate the medal.

She was a beautiful woman, and the first thing you notice in all her pictures is her smile. At times, I think back and try and capture what would have been the lasting image of my mother for me, but I have always failed. There is now way I could confine her to a single lasting impression.

She died when I was sixteen, suddenly and without explanations, and 12 years hence, I am still unable to comprehend what life could have been like had she still been around.

Her death rocked our family to the core, and things took more than a decade to stabilize. But I still find myself thinking of her when I do something good, or when someone says something nice to me.

She died convinced that her youngest son will become a doctor, while I went on to do something entirely different. It?s a strange feeling to be cheated out of a chance to love someone back , to be able to hold someone in your arms and tell them exactly how much they mean to you? and to know that when dad took her to the hospital that night, her tired face was to be my last glimpse of her. I felt very very alone then, standing alone in the lawn of our house, with our family dog running circles around me. Next day, she died in the morning, a day before Valentine?s Day, and I was deprived of even a last chance to say goodbye to her.

Guess, its never too late to write down something I should have sometime ago.

Comments from the past:
9 Mar 2007, 4:18pm

Very sorry about your loss. How awful it must have been, and still must be. Some situations make one feel so helpless, there is nothing except acceptance that can follow.

13 Mar 2007, 9:14pm

A sigh, a smile and a hug from my side..:) Needless to say, u have done her proud.Look at what u have established for yourself dear. God Bless U

14 Mar 2007, 8:05pm

This is the first time I visited your blog…..Very touching. I liked the way you wrote and the way you expressed your thoughts….. Iam really moved!

15 Mar 2007, 8:09am

Hey. Keep writing.

19 Jul 2007, 1:24pm

Very touching.. Men dont cry.. but u made one shed a tear right now!

26 Jan 2008, 2:13am

Sorry about your loss. Very touching blog entry.

God bless you and your family

The Sound of Silence

I am supposed to be working on a deadline. Honestly, yes. This is what I am expected to be doing right now. I have used the deadline as an excuse to postpone all my meetings for the day, and now that I have the entire afternoon to myself, I find myself typing away to glory on MS Outlook, writing what I hope will become the next post on my much neglected blog !

She has been silent of late. Silent, that is, she has not been talking much. Not talking at all is more like it. Last week, she attended office with a sore throat and managed to aggravate the itch in the throat to a full blown case of Laryngitis?. And now she is quiet, silent on the doctor?s orders.

So for most of the weekend, I was carrying out a one way conversation with myself, with her limiting her responses to a forced mime or hitting out at me occasionally. Dinner was peaceful, so were lunch and the breakfast earlier.

She went to office today, and I am not supposed to call her, as that will make her talk, which is not what the doctor ordered. Here is one for the dipping cellphone bills?

Should I be happy? I mean how lucky a man can get before he dashes off a bridge crying hallelujah !

You close your eyes and you are free, if you chose not to listen with your eyes then there is little around that can shatter the solitude around you? except maybe for a well aimed object ( pillow, clocks, teddy bears, knives?) or a kick if you are close enough.

You can have the next drink after seeking her permission, and claim later that you though that her shaking of the head in all directions meant yes. Ask her to keep quiet in front of everyone and get away unscathed in one piece. Throw clothes wherever you want around the house and know that they will be picked up off the floor minus the nagging that accompanies it?

They say Laryngitis lasts a week?

A week?

Just a week?.


Comments from the past:

27 Feb 2007, 10:57am

Hey, How is it going? We had a look at an appt in your society. Got a few questions, if u don’t mind. Could I email you at ashishkec@yahoo.com?

27 Feb 2007, 10:29pm

I for once want to throw a bucket of cold water on u!!!!
u do not have laryngitis, so wats wrong with ur phone?why can’t i reach u?

3 Mar 2007, 8:32am

Coretta, glad I am not close by…

S, feel free to mail me. I had been away, hence the delayed response

The Rest of My Life…

Do you know how it feels?. When things kind of rearrange themselves and fall into place with a satisfying click?. Leaving with you a sense of relieved disbelief? wondering if the world itself is not in playing a nasty joke on you?.

Well for me today.. was one of those days? There was a transition to a particular group in my company which I had been working towards for the past one year? and today things moved at a speed which defied my own expectations… making me a very very happy man in the end?

I guess these moments do happen, in everyone?s? lives? for me the first such moment took some time to come?.

I was scared of speaking in public. Scared, I mean really really scared. The kind of scared which means getting goosebumps, and knocking knees all at the same time. When I was still younger.. I guess 8th standard? I had a pretty sad debut on the podium? forgetting the lines of Nehru?s ?Tryst with Destiny? in front of 25 other schools at Lucknow. ?.The sad part is that I still remember that speech by heart !

I was convinced that facing a crowd was something I would never be able to do? be it speaking? or singing

It was in standard 12? the senior ?most class in my school, that I was told that I am supposed to give a speech on Republic Day. Just one of those speeches that we saw every year in school? the kid who spoke after the National Flag was unfurled? and the mandatory patriotic songs sung? and the Principal praised the chief guest to the skies.. and the chief guest would explain the real meaning of patriotism and our duties with finger wagging sagacity? and finally we would line up for our bag of sweets, waving paper flags all along?

Yes that year.. that kid was supposed to be me? and for me it was as good as committing hara-kiri. I guess spent almost a week writing my speech, to tell the truth, still remember some of the stuff I wrote in there? and then I practiced it and recorded it on the old BPL cassette recorder we had at home?.I was scared, and determined not to make a fool of myself all over again? like the way I did the last time I uttered anything on a microphone?

The D-Day arrived? and I spoke my heart out. Oblivious of the not so proper things you say when you are 17 years old.. filled with the passion of a teenage mind? and my dad was there in the crowd listening to me. I did not falter, and I did not forget my lines.. I paused at the right moments and I smiled at the right places. In short, I loved it. At the end, every one clapped? glad it was over?. And later my father told me that I was good. THAT made my day.

At my engineering college.. during ragging, I discovered that those who could sing, escaped the more humiliating things that you could be made to do?. So I sang. And for the next 4 years, saw my name appearing on the list of all college song competitions on its own. During my MBA, I guess I was on a roll the day I won 5 events for my team at a B School fest?

I am bragging, yes, and for this one aspect of my life, I am not pretty apologetic about it either, because just between us, I am pretty proud of it as well.

Today, training and talking and communicating are my biggest strengths. And to think that till class 11th I was convinced that Medicine would have been a great career choice for an introvert like me.

You never really know, what might change tomorrow. Something that gives you sleepless nights today might be your source of strength tomorrow.

A year back.. I was floundering in a career which did not seem to be heading in any direction which I would have enjoyed. It has taken me a year to mould it back towards activities and roles that I find more fulfilling personally.

You know, its days like these? which make you look forward to the rest of your life?.

The first post for this season.. Wish You All a Happy New Year

Comments from the past:

27 Jan 2007, 3:14pm


27 Jan 2007, 7:54pm


27 Jan 2007, 9:57pm

ah, just waiting for some of that luck to come by

28 Jan 2007, 1:54am

Oh… well am sure its on its way …

2 Feb 2007, 12:24am

Blessed :)–U are