Wow! It has been a year that I have blogged, and still doing it, and, to speak the truth, it feels good, really good. Blogosphere has become as important a part of my life as the atmosphere (do I make any sense here, ha, ha… I’m just writing it because Blogosphere and Atmosphere rhymes).
Dear fellow-bloggers, you can’t imagine how thankful I am to you all. There can be no one as thankful as I am, really. You have liked my post, commented on them. I know, some of you have a super busy life, yet you took some time out to read my silly stuff. Thank you is too small a word to express my appreciation. Yet, here is my big THANK YOU.
Well, we have gazillion of talented people in here. WordPress is a wonderful platform where so many people, from near and far, come together and share views and opinions. The creator of WordPress has done a terrific work. The team member at WordPress is doing a marvelous job. Kudos!
So far, I’ve enjoyed reading, and possibly will keep enjoying in the future as well, what others write. Ever since I started blogging, I must say this, my learning has gone up. I think there can be nothing more rewarding than this.
I admire some bloggers, I really do. The way they write is simply astounding. And I regularly visit their blogs and read their stuff. I won’t name who the bloggers are, that would be discriminating, I suppose.
It is a fact that learning never ends, the more we learn the more there is to learn, no matter how learned we are, we must keep learning. But be careful, learning can be negative as well. We have to evade the negative learning and chose a better life by grasping the positive things that life has to offer. (Damn it! Why am I sounding so preachy?)
Alright, it is time that I thank some people who have nominated me for some handsome awards. How kind you are that you think I deserve such awards!
To go with, first I have the Liebster Award. Gwen Bristol bestowed me with this award. She writes on writing and some other stuff, which you should see for yourself. Do read her posts; they are all interesting to read. Take my word for it.
I have two more awards. Ah, what a lucky person I am! Allwin Bright thought that I am worthy of Versatile Blogger Award and Very Inspiring Blogger Award. Allwin writes very beautifully, though he is very modest to admit that. But I tell you, he really does. Do read his posts.
I know there are some rules about the awards which I have to follow. But, rules are made to be broken. Ha-ha! I’m sorry I’m not abiding by the rules. Actually, many people have nominated me for numerous awards in the past, but I was not much into the award things so I didn’t respond. This must not be taken as an insult, however. I’m grateful to all those who nominated me for such awards.
It was 4.30 in the morning when the alarm of my phone started giving me a tough time. And I had to bear with Eminem’s socially inappropriate lyrics, for it had been my phone’s alarm tone. I was reluctant to wake up. It was a cold morning. Everything was still. I shut Eminem up by pressing the snooze option of the phone. I pulled the blanket over my head, squeezed and curled myself in the bed, and was off to dreamland.
At 5 o’clock the phone rang once again. I wanted to snooze it like I did a little while ago, and like I do every day until it stops ringing, but this time it was a different music, not the alarm tone by any chance. I halfheartedly opened my eyes, stretched my hands, and with the right hand I picked up the phone and glancing at it I saw Aravind’s name flash on it.
Aravind is a very good friend of mine. Although he looks aged with his bulging belly and the stiff mustache, but internally he is quite immature and very innocent. He proves his immaturity very often by doing things which a man of his age never does. Some people find him a bit pestering, but I like him. He has always been very good to me.
I pressed the accept button to speak. He yelled out of sheer excitement, just like a kid: “Goa… Goa, Goa!” Then he paused for a moment gasping heavily, and then he spoke again, his sentences ending before he could complete them: “The girls… wearing bikinis… resort, dazzling beaches… wake up! Wake up!”
Realization hit me hard like a stone to a glass, we were supposed to go to Goa today, “Ah, quite so,” I said.
As a rule set my Mumbai University, all the Management Students must go on an industrial visit. I suppose, to make us aware about our future responsibilities, or to let us know how we are supposed to struggle for money. It was the teachers’ duty to take care of that, that is to say, to organize industrial visits for the students every year.
The last two years I could not make it to any of the industrial tour because I was not interested, moreover, I had no time for it. But this time I was determined not to miss this opportunity. This is my final year in the college, and if I missed it I would suffer from a void feeling which might as well torture my conscience as I grow older. I’ve never been to Goa. I wanted to see what Goa was like. So I paid Rs. 4000 (like everyone did) for the same and decided to go to Goa.
Aravind was waiting for me in his car. I hurried up, and briskly and noiselessly got into the car. “I’m here.” Soon we reached Panvel station from where all the students were supposed to get on board of a train – Jan Shatabdi had been the train’s name – at 6.00 a.m. I met other friends, and the three lecturers (all women) who accompanied us, or who were suppose to keep an eye on us, in case someone led us astray. Ha!
We kept waiting for the train. As it always happens, the train moved forward, rattling inch by inch quite leisurely at OUR timing – the Indian timing, and finally came to a halt. It was late by half-an-hour. The shrilling of its engine wasn’t at all inviting.
The friends’ parents came to the station to see the friends off. These followed thereon: embracing, shaking hands, wiping tears from the eyes… as if they were bidding goodbye for a long time or maybe forever. The tour was just for 4 days, and nothing more. Overflowing affection, ha!
I was looking for my seat as I got into the train, and when I was able to find it out, I saw an elderly man sitting on it. “Sir, I believe, you’re sitting on my chair,” I said. He was least bothered. I raised my voice, and then he said it was his seat. “How could that be possible?” I questioned.
“Very,” he replied laconically.
“Very?” I found myself repeating his word, but only interrogatively. A little argument followed. I summoned the TC and discovered that the elderly man was speaking the truth. I felt embarrassed before the elderly man, the TC, and other passengers. I foamed at the mouth. I had to stand for half an hour in the train; some of my friends did the same.
I went to the lecturers with my complaint. I kept stuttering for sometime before speaking plainly. Yes, when I get very angry, or very excited, I stutter. Let me say it once again, I st-tu-tut-tut-tut-stut-ter.
One of the lecturers arranged a seat for me, and slowly all the other students were able to sit down comfortably. But I wanted to know why there was the confusion regarding the seat. We did pay the money then why should there be any problem at all? When asked, the lecturers had no idea why it was so; there was no answer for me. Perhaps, the agent of People2Place (who provided us the travel service) made a mistake. Anyhow, I was able to sit and relax, my anger melted, and I had no more problems and no more questions.
The train jerked and rattled, picked up speed, and along we moved on. I tried to register everything in my mind through the view from the window. But, alas, it was a misty December morning, and it made my visibility unclear. No doubt it looked beautiful. Sometimes neon signs flicked through as the train made its way, and I was curious to know what was beneath the foggy atmosphere: Perhaps homes, mountains, a bazaar, animals, or such other things.
I decided to read a book, the best way to eat up time, but the friends wouldn’t let me. They (the boys) inherited the girls’ hormone. They kept on talking tirelessly and continuously. Some guys had a voice as melodious as Justin Bieber, and I could make little difference as to who was the guy and who the gal.
We reached Goa and checked-in to our resort. A very beautiful resort it was, with greenery all-around, a swanky swimming pool that was made more appealing by the alluring golden-haired, brown-eyed girls swimming and dancing in it. A friend of mine exclaimed: “This is it!” I gave him a puzzled look, and he explained, “Besides the beaches and the wine, I wanted to see this and nothing more.” He pointed his fingers towards the women in bikinis swimming in the pool, and towards another who was reclining on her rocking chair, smoking, exhaling circles of smoke, and reading a book at the same time. “Ah, it seems like a movie. This is exactly how they look in the movies. Oh my god, I feel like a star!” He said, expressing mirth. The other friends laughed back at him, not with him, mind you.
We freshened up and learnt that we were going to a very famous and the finest beach in Goa called Baga beach. The boys wore shorts, so did the girls. But the girls invited some criticisms from the lecturers for doing so. My friends disapproved of the lecturers’ gesture. A guy said, “What problem do the teachers have with the students? They never want to see us happy. This is only time we get to see some skin, and … “
A lecturer approached towards him making a strange face, and he thought it best to shut up and stay mum. I knew what he was trying to convey. But he meant it only for fun without having any bad intention. Nevertheless, the girls adhered to their dressing style; after all, they were going to a beach and not to a church or a temple.
We went to Baga beach, swam to our heart’s content. A friend, upon seeing a bikini-clad foreigner, wanted to click a photo with her. But she refused. The friend looked a little disappointed and brokenhearted, we couldn’t help but laugh and laugh, and laugh a little more.
A lady friend lost her camera somewhere in the beach or in the shops nearby, and started crying. Girls of our college always cry no matter what, “I won’t go back home if I don’t get the camera,” she said. All the other girls started crying as well, as if the camera was a lifesaving drug for them. The lecturers told us to help her find the camera, it happened to be a very expensive one. We went to find it, and luckily we found it. It was in a shop, the shopkeeper was a morally upright, very kindhearted and noble man (such persons are very scarce today, aren’t they?) and returned the camera back to its rightful owner. We thanked him and were off to our resort.
Then, we danced to the tunes of the Disc jockey in the swimming pool as dusk set in; it was especially organized for us. After that we had a hearty dinner.At the crack of midnight we retired to our beds.
During the night I could not sleep properly because of a friend’s snoring who slept beside me. The whole night he kept on torturing me by producing strange sounds: grarrrrr… graaaaaaarrrrrr… grrrrarr….graarrrrrrr… This followed in the same fashion till the remaining days in Goa. I told him to change his sleeping position hoping to see some changes in his breathing. He changed his position, but it was of no avail. I felt like defenestrating him, but thought the better of it.
In the next day, we went to another world-famous dazzling beach –Calangute beach– in north Goa for water sports. These are the sports we enjoyed: Banana boat ride, Bumper ride (the force of the water did a good bum massage), Para-sailing (we paid extra for extra pleasure), Jet Ski (I rode, by paying extra, of course). In the night we went boat cruising. ‘Coral Queen’ had been the cruiser’s name. Some cultural dances were displayed on it. We watched and loved it.
The next day we went to Coca Cola Company, that’s the main reason for which we were in Goa. An instructor demonstrated us the functioning of the machines and all other stuff related to the production of beverage. At first I thought the instructor was not an instructor but a security guard. His dressing style was overly simple. But when he started speaking in fluent English, and started explaining us everything about the manufacturing process, I found him a very knowledgeable, genial, and modest person. Oh, and he wore a big smile every time he spoke.
Then we proceeded towards old Goa and visited BIG FOOT Cross Museum which is a centre for preservation and promotion of Art, Culture and Environment. Then we visited the historical church of St. Francis Xavier, and an archaeological museum nearby.
The next day we visited Fort Aguada. After that we were on our way back to Aamchi Mumbai.
I must say, Goa, with its mighty Sea, good-natured people, and its proximity to other huge cities such as Mumbai, Bangalore, Hyderabad, is really attractive, enticing, and fascinating.
There is something soothing about Goa. For a writer, it’s the best place to live. The surroundings are quite, serene and peaceful. Goa, I’m sure, would alleviate your mental agony, and make you feel that life is worth living.
Thus, we concluded our journey; it was a thrilling experience, at least for me. Now, as I finish writing this, I am missing Goa a lot.
P.S.: I could have written a lot more, but as it is, it already looks very daunting. I don’t want to bore my readers, and definitely my blog is not a book.
Ever since I started blogging (it’s seven months now) I find my learning curve is always going up, with that, I think, I’m slowly improving. And what can be more rewarding than this! The sole purpose why I’m into blogging is because I want to learn and improve myself (it’s not a crime to improve oneself, is it?). Learning never ends, the more we learn the more there is to learn, no matter how learned we are, we must keep learning.
I’m thankful to all my fellow-bloggers who have taken their time out from their busy life and liked and commented on my post. Yes, I’m thankful only to those, who have commented and liked my post, the rest, I don’t bother. You see, I’m selfish.
Anyway, I want to let you know that I’ll be away from blogosphere till the first week of November. Well, it’s time I should immerse myself into my studies, no matter how damn boring the curriculum is, and the subjects are. Cruel Mumbai University has already fixed the dates for eggjams of the management course; unfortunately, I’m a student of management. The thing is that if I sit in front of my computer, I forget everything else, and it always amazes me how time slips away when I do that. Now, I’ll have to force into my head all those jargons and difficult words and terms which the professors have so easily written on the blackboard sometime ago — which I vaguely remember — to keep my head and my parent’s heads from hanging down in disgust, shame, and repulsion. As they say, when the going gets tough, the tough gets going!
I’ll write more, and most importantly read all of your wonderful posts when I come back. Till then everybody take good care of your body. But, remember, even if you want to look good and be like a superstar, you don’t have to use too much of cosmetics, nor do you need to do any kind of surgeries like our film stars, and you don’t even need to sing or give an album’s name something like ‘Boyfriend’ just to prove that you’re a boy which our Justin lady Bieber did, nor do you need to gaga about your cloths like our Masculine Lady Gaga.
You are good-looking and this feeling should come from within, take for an example, no one ever said that I look smart or handsome, but I feel, I am.
Did you believe that?
That was a joke!
Will be back in the first week of November, bye for now!
The crow is no longer cawing and nothing disturbs me of the calmness I’m feeling now. A flock of sparrows have gracefully taken over the place of the crows and are comfortably perched high in the trees, and some have made themselves at ease on the rope that is tied from one pole to the other of my balcony where I dry my wet cloths. Even the mynas are getting closer to me.
How different are the sparrows from the crows! The chirping of the sparrows are sweeter than any human voice, and though these mynas have not learnt to imitate human voice, though have not been taught to do so, but their wild utterance is just music to my ears. Even though I don’t understand the bird’s language, and I can’t exactly tell what they mean, but their agile movement and their proximity to me means something special to me and I feel good about it, I can deduce they are happy and I see no reason to be sad.
Now, my dog comes to me waving his tail to indicate his happiness, and he licks my toe showing love and I caress his fluffy-haired body. I say Jump and he jumps without a question, how loyal!
The breezy air brings some beautiful thought to my mind, and I can only say that this is a beautiful world surrounded by sweet people. I believe, I’m also a sweet person – wait a moment, it’s not just sweet; I’m super sweet – among all the other super-duper sweet people.
Thank you, ‘Raven’s Witch’ for nominating me for the Super Sweet Blogging Award. You are marvelous! and so is your blog. All my dear fellow blogger, please, do stop by her blog, she is a beautiful woman, her brown beautiful eyes have that absorbed look of rapt delight, and her shiny golden hair is a bonus to her beauty. She writes some really interesting stuff.
Now, some rules that you have to follow in case you get nominated for this award and are mentioned below:
Thank the blogger who nominated you for the award
Nominate other bloggers who you think deserves the award
Answer five simple but super sweet questions
So, now, lemme answer the five super sweet questions:
Cookies or Cake?
Cake, of course!
Chocolate or Vanilla?
Do I really need to choose one? Haha! I mean, I like both. Anyway, I’ll give more preference to chocolate over vanilla as for now
What is your favorite sweet treat?
I accept anything sweet that comes to me for free 😀
When do you crave sweet things the most?
Morning, noon, evening, and night. Sorry, couldn’t find a better answer.
If you had a sweet nickname, what would it be?
Ah-well-uh-I-think-ah…. It would be Rambo 😛
Alright, my nominees for the super sweet blogging award are: