The Surreal Rose

The Surreal Rose
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I call it ‘The Surreal Rose’. Just a few rays of sunshine striking against the rose. Just amazing.

Hey guys. Lol, I’ve been publishing more photos than posts now.
Anyhow, what’s up? ‘

I wanted to click a pic of a flower for a long time, but I couldn’t do so. I have no idea why, but still. So here we are.

My mom is an amazing gardener. Like, she spends more time rearing plants than anything else. When it comes to the garden, the hedges should be cut, the grass should be trimmed, the bushes should be preened. She’s obsessive. And yet, this obsession is the reason why this rose bloomed so well. And hence, this shall be my gift for my mom on this Mother’s day. I know I’m late, and yet, I can’t dp creative things like drawing and stuff. So… here you go.

Later, dudes.

-Apra-out ~(O_O~)

Basking In The Sunlight

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I made myself a Danbo. 10/10 satisfied. Although I’m not able to think much and write much, but then, I guess photography can be done whenever needed. So I had a little time, and got Danbo out to the garden. Yeah…I think the sunlight suits the photograph.
Guess I rambled a lot. See ya later!!

-Apra-out ~(O_O~)

Power-Cut Boredom Beaters

Power-Cut Boredom Beaters
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Yes, that’s a skullcandy, and yes again, that’s a kindle Paperwhite.

Technology has grown in leaps and bounds. Needless to say, they are the reason why I’m not dying of boredom during power-cuts at my place. Sure, many of my elders would lament about the fact that when they were young, they’d stare at the stars and enjoy playing games with their siblings. As much as that seems fun, at this point of time, I think I’d rather enjoy listening to good music, along with a good book. Coupled with rains… well, my definition of bliss.

Its been a long time since I posted, and I’d like to apologize for that, since nothing interesting is coming to mind.
Also, sorry about the date and time stamp. I forgot to remove them, and trust me, it won’t happen again.

Hope you liked it. Tips are welcome, criticisms as well.

-Apra-out ~(O_O~)

The Misadventure

The Misadventure

Hi there! Back again sooner than I expected. Of late, its been a bit hectic, what with all the preparation for the exams of the respective unis taking the forefront, so I’ve not been able to get down to writing serious stuff for a long time now.

On 17th April, I went to the Times Of India head office, at M.G. Road, which, unfortunately for me, is a bit far off from my place. When it comes to traversing around in Bangalore, I have no qualms in using public transport. I’ve traveled in the bus service plenty of times, used the metro and the occasional auto-rickshaws as well. And if I need to go to a place that I’ve not been to before, or am travelling there alone for the first time, I plan things out, and ensure that I know the bus numbers, along with the routes they take, and I take screenshots of the route map (because I don’t have a data plan on my mobile to activate GPS). If i use the metro, I ensure that I check the route map on the metro website and plan out the route there as well.

So when I got lost, I was at a loss.

Yes. I got lost in the city of Bangalore, with a lot of stupid, arrogant and lousy auto drivers sneering at me, trying to flick an expensive fare from the foreign tourists. So I left my place at 3:30 with my mom, asking her to drop me to the metro station. I bought my tickets, and waited at the station for about 10 minutes, after which a flurry of activity encapsulated the platform, marking the arrival of my ride. I hurried inside, primarily in order to occupy a seat which would give me an unrestricted view of the entire place. So yeah, listening to Coldplay, and enjoying the view, I sat in the air conditioned cabin, waiting for my stop.

Now see, I had to change trains at a particular stop in order to reach my destination. What I didn’t know (and the website had not mentioned this; scumbag BMRCL officials) was that the junction at which I was supposed to change trains was not operating, and was under construction. So I had to get down one stop before that. Having been in Bangalore for three years, and still not knowing much about it seems like a failure on my part.

I admit, I hadn’t been in that particular region, and it was a mall for crying out loud! I haven’t even visited all the malls in Bangalore.

So yeah, the nervousness was just setting in, and the worry started slowly seeping through my calm demeanor. I started walking towards people, trying to discern as to who might know Hindi, or better still, English. One lesson I learnt was that anyone wearing branded clothes along with a titan watch could be depended upon when it came to talking in English. But still, I had a tough time. I asked a kid, and he said he had no idea. Then I saw a relatively old man, talking on his phone. He was about to leave on his scooty, when I decided to take a chance, and I approached him. I had to cross the road, and a scumbag driver jumped the signal. The tire of his car flattened my foot. Yeah, sparks flew, and swearing to myself, I hurried along to catch the old man before he left off to wherever old people go in the afternoon, which is usually a time for comfortable little siestas. Upon approaching him, and asking him as to how I could get to said destination, he said,”take an auto-rickshaw. You’ve come at the right time. They’ll take only 150 bucks.” And I had only 150 bucks, and I had to return home as well. So I vetoed the idea immediately.

For a minute, I considered returning. But then, I really didn’t want to go home without doing anything. Nope. I am stubborn that way. So I did the most logical thing (and reckless, I admit). I caught a bus to the next stop. The metro station where I was supposed to change the train was called ‘Kempegowda’. So I took a bus to ‘Kempegowda bus station’. By this time, I knew that there was a full panic attack coming my way. I entered the bus, and the conductor there asked me where I needed to go. I told her, and then asked her how to go to MG Road. She shrugged, and then refused to answer my questions, completely ignoring me. By this point of time, I was tired, frustrated, irritated, sweaty, and yes, if I could kill someone, that would’ve been the time when I would’ve committed the crime. I asked whether I had arrived at my stop, and received no answer, and yes, it took me all my willpower to not smack the lady.

I went to the door, and there stood two elderly citizens. I asked them, and got very polite replies, saying that yes that was the last stop. One of them asked me where I wanted to go, and the other man engaged me in a conversation, asking me where I was from, which class was I in, which school was I from, why I was going to Times of India office. At the time, I didn’t realize it, but I guess he was trying to calm me down. Yeah, I guess the are amazing after all. I calmed down, and one of the old men said, “I’ll walk you to the inquiry booth, and talk to the man there, so that we can find out which buses you need to take. We don’t want to get lost, do we?”. I admit, I felt humbled and extremely grateful to this man. I guess we do have good Samaritans in our country after all. He quickly conversed, and told me the necessary buses I needed to take. Almost immediately, I caught the bus, and I thanked my good luck.

As always, a bit too early.

The conductor here seemed decent, or so I thought. He didn’t bother to stop where I needed to get down, and two blocks later, her tells me that I’ve missed my stop, and that I needed to get down. Yeah, I wanted to pretty much ram his head into the window. I got down, and then decided that I was having a bad time in buses, so I started walking. 15 minutes later, sweaty and oily, I walked into the lobby of the office.

I had done it.

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That’s the place.

I had reached my destination. Elated, I took the stairs three at a time…..and I was told to stop and wait near the reception for another 15 minutes for apparent ‘formalities’. Yeah, my patience was barely tethered. But finally, FINALLY, they let me go inside, where I met the editor and got to work.

Fortunately, while returning, the editor told an acquaintance of hers to drop me, as he lived near my place. He agreed. However, he suddenly got an urgent commitment, and had to rush off to finish his work. I had to wait in the lobby for another half an hour before he came and said, ‘Give me five minutes, I’ll just wind up and come’. Finally, he came, and we went to the parking lot where he took out his Royal Enfield, and we left the complex.

We were halfway homeward, and suddenly, it started to rain, and I thought to myself, ‘Its really not that bad a day.’ A tad bit soon, I guess. The traffic became heavier and heavier, and came to a point where we had to wait for an approximate 10 minutes at a signal. Finally, I saw the wall of my campus, and told him to stop by the campus gate, and he obliged.

After getting down, I shook hands with him, and he said, ‘If you come by there again, meet me as well. I’m in print as well, but I’m into designing.’ I guess I just got acquainted to one more important man.

Lucky me.

Anyhow, yeah. This was one of those learning experiences for me. I dropped many of my pre-conceived notions, and also understood one more thing: not to trust the Bangalore metro service website.

Anyhow, I’m done for now.

-Apra-out ~(O_O~)

Windowsill Contemplation: The Unacknowledged Girl

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Windowsill Contemplation

Hey guys. Back again. Not with a bang, but nevertheless, back.

So this one was a shocker for me, as I wrote this in broad daylight, and unlike the usual format of me writing stuff at midnight, this is a first.

Throughout my teenage (which includes the present), I’ve been confused about my feelings… Or rather, just about everything. And yes, just as every other teen out there does it, even I never found it apt to trust my parents with my dilemmas and confusions. Not that they aren’t helpful, its just that they don’t have the same priorities as mine, and I won’t accept their advice because my agendas would be different. And hence, I did fall into the ‘wrong’ kind of influence. Landed up in hellholes as well. Basically, all of it fed fodder to the naïve idea of mine: a girlfriend will solve my problem. As I stated earlier (that’s IF you’ve read my earlier posts), I had a twisted mindset that made me think that my days of insecurity, worry, low esteem would all be done for if I had a girlfriend. And in the quest of finding the perfect lady for myself, I’ve hurt a lot of people, and my guilt is still something that is corroding my soul (many say that I don’t have one, but never mind).

No. It was never my intention to play with anyone’s emotion. If anything, it was merely my own naïveté that caused me to make stupid mistakes.

I’ve apologised countless number of times, but….forgiveness doesn’t come easy, does it?

There was this particular girl I knew from 10th grade, and I admit, I was found her presence quite distasteful. Needless to say, I razzed her pretty bad. She was in a different class, and we had to work together for a science model. Surprisingly, we won. (For once, I’m not showing off). I decidedly became a wee bit warmer towards her. Aaand that was pretty much it in 10th grade.

In 11th grade, we had a bit more of bonding, particularly due to the fact that she was my classmate. We got a little closer, when another girl rejected me (long story, and I don’t intend to share that one, so don’t ask). The emotional support that I needed…well, somewhere, I felt left out of my friend circle. And that’s when this girl helped me out. And yes, truthfully, I must admit that despite all stereotypes that she had faced, she kept her head high. A couple of months later, this girl asked me out. (The look on my face must’ve been priceless). You must be thinking: ‘Hey, what could go wrong here?’. But I had my reservations about her. You see, she didn’t have a..respectable reputation, so to speak, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether I liked her or not. My answer was a harsh no. I have no idea how she could stand being 10 feet near me, considering the fact that she became the butt of every joke, and was on the receiving end of my infamous scathing and sarcastic comments. Yes, I was that bad. And yes, in my conquest to set myself as the alpha-male, I ended up making a female cry. Not just once, many times, and I’m not including the times she might’ve cried at home.

Fast forward to 12th grade. Somehow, we reconciled, and became very close. Close to the point where my own friends questioned me about it (they disliked her, and hence, to them, my unnatural friendship with this girl was nothing short of scandalous). This closeness became the ultimate source of strife for both. She had a boyfriend, whom, I regret to say, had a pretty badass insecurity that I’d steal his girl away (I was dumbfounded when I got to know). So…he’d occasionally stop her from talking to me. And…I don’t know. The time which I spent without talking to her was…depressing and boring. Ibrealised that, subconsciously, I had developed something more than just friendship. So… I told her about it. And…that was a very stupid move. She got confused, and I got confused about where we were heading. It finally reached a peak, where I could not take it. And so…I decided to let go. She was hesitant because she was unsure of me. I was hesitant because she was known to move over guys like I move over coleslaw sandwiches (I swear, you wanna bribe me, give me coleslaw sandwiches, and we have a deal). Also, today, it was her guy, tomorrow it could be me. It seemed unethical to do it as well. And so… We argued, we fought, and then stopped talking to each other.

I sent an apology to her, which was met with apathy, and a ‘Good luck with your life, Aparajit’ message. Nothing less than what I deserved, but hey, at least I learned something. I guess this is the perfect example of ‘How to not live your life’.

That very night though, I received a message.
I’d been forgiven, after all, and believe me, I didn’t hope it would’ve happened.

And so, this is my tribute, my gift to the Unacknowledged girl, the lady who suffered because of me; her only crime being that she liked me. The girl who has faced more prejudice than you or me could probably understand. The girl, who stood by me, despite knowing that only hurt would be her comrade.

So…basically, I’m kind of done for now. Someone convinced me that getting a girlfriend isn’t everything (Thanks Sarongita).
And yes. I know I’m not done with my confusions. But now, I know what I shouldn’t do. I will keep my promises, and I will strive to be better. I promised this girl that I’ll write about her someday. If you’re reading this, then yes. I do understand. I might’ve behaved like a clueless, compassion less shrew, but I knew all along.
P.S; That reminds me, TheTinglymind, we’re gonna have that dinner for sure someday.
So till next time, folks!
-Apra-out ~(O_O~)

Bangalore Comic Con 2015!

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This was given to us. I admit, this is one of those few things that I’ll probably treasure.

Hey guys.

I had a little bit of free time, so I decided to click these beauties.
The comic con wristband, along with a brochure. I know, not much of a souvenir, but still. It’s cool.

The comic con was amazing, and I’d recommend people to go to it, irrespective of the fact that you watch anime or not. The place throbs with energy, and it was infectious. I went with my friends there, and boy, the crowd was just amazing. The only regret I have is that I didn’t have enough money on me. Nevermind.

-Apra-out ~(O_O~)

From Engineering To Journalism: The Journey

Hi there.

Most of you might’ve noticed by now that I’m making regular posts on my blog. But that’s beside the point.

Like all other posts of mine, today (again), was a day when I was walking in my garden at night (hence the name beneath the starry skies), and nighttime is the only period wherein all sorts of mind boggling contemplation occur(at least, that’s in my case, and trust me, if I accidentally stay awake at 2:00 AM, that’s it).

I saw a man walking along the road beside my house, and I thought to myself “Here is another guy who did his engineering, and yet, finds himself nowhere”. Travelling along this train of thoughts, I decided that I’m going to share my side of the story; my journey: from wannabe engineering student, to a fantabulously talented, aspiring journalist.

It all starts in the year 2012, the year when the apocalypse was to occur and destroy life as we know it. The reality wasn’t that different, because, at the very least, my life changed… well, it kind of destroyed the “life” in me (I know..there are waaay too many ‘life’s over here. Never mind).

So yeah, 2012, 10th grade. Let’s just say I was all set to follow the sheep deep into the foray to unravel the mysteries of life. I was to venture into the subject of science. And yes, I had full faith in me that I’d get by easily.

Contrary to the image that everyone has about me, or had about me, I was a person who had a pretty bad case of low self-esteem. Underconfident. Ugly. Not-so-awesome. You get the picture. The thing is, I considered myself inferior to everyone. I was less than my best friend, less than my crush’s boyfriend, less than my sister…less than my own cousins. I felt…lonely, and low. Practically all the time.

And that gave me the idea of taking up science, a mainstream subject, in order to, well, gain some respect…at the very least, from my family. My decision, upon being questioned, brought forth my crisp, sarcastic snappish retorts that usually sent the smartest alec packing. However, my parents did advise against the idea of me taking science, and naturally, like every other teen, I refused, partly because my ego wouldn’t let me, and partly because it was my long held belief that science would pave way for respect.

And so, I took the dive, having no idea about the intense grind and exhaustion that was to take the place of the lively energy in my eyes. The world lost most of its charm, and it had become wonderless, where everything was explained by formulas, theorems, and equations.

Einstein was to become my god, and NCERT to be the messiah, spreading its messages to me. Unfortunately, like every other religion has a few non-believers, I beleieve, I was the rebel. I was just not science material.

Unfortunately, being non-science material, the struggle was despicably hatred inducing.

Studying had become a chore. A chapter of chemistry acted like a tranquiliser. Classes were a bore, filled with repetitive drone of formulas, theorems and whatnot, which ultimately made my eyes glaze over. And naturally, I was weak in academics. Basically, sad life. My position in my family, or rather, the position I held in my mind abut myself slumped. It was ingrained in me that I wouldn’t amount to a shit-stain I thought. Self confidence-all time low. Self-respect-all but gone. Meanwhile, I got another delusion, and thought that if i had a girlfriend, I’d feel better. I made a move on a couple of girls. (All of them were pretty hilarious, now that I think about it) and got rejected repeatedly (naturally, I don’t publicise that fact). I guess I did learn something valuable (There! I’m giving a tip here) How will a girl love me, if I don’t love myself? (Love thyself, and the world shalt love thou).

Anyhow, back to the point, life slowly started to sap out of me, and I became a distant echo of who I used to be. Eleventh had gone by, and I found myself in twelfth.

Twefth was pretty muych the same as eleventh. Except that I somehow regained a little bit of life again. And got a girlfriend. Fantastic person, though I broke it off.

The big deal about twelfth was that I had to give my NDA examination (National Defence Academy). It was one of my many dreams to become a part of the Indian Armed Forces.

Coaching classes (which I had joined in eleventh, thinking that I’d become an engineer; who was I kidding?) were, in the simplest of words, a pain. I got bored there, and decided that rather than sitting there in class and wasting time, I would study for NDA. I used to got to the coaching class library and sit there, studying for the exam. I slogged hard, but I guess that it wasn’t enough.I failed to clear it. So ultimately, one of the few things that I’d considered would be an upside of taking science was torn away from me. I was convinced that I was up to no good.

However, life wasn’t done teaching lessons to me. Hope, albeit futile at times, is an incredibly important part of life, and it was a part that I wasn’t willing to let go of.

Despite my many shortcomings, I had one solid, strength: English (aaaaand the showing off has begun). Sure, it was good, but I guess my English teachers should take credit for making it the way it is right now (Barnali ma’am, Kiran ma’am and Eugenie ma’am, thank you). They pushed me (much to my annoyance) and at one point of time, forced me to write an essay. Sure, it ended up being brilliant, but still. I dodged them all at some point of time or the other, but then, you can’t run from teachers. Not in my school, at the very least. So, a whole lot of groaning, complaining and reasearching, I wrote my masterpiece: an essay on ‘Generation Gap’. The draft looked like this:

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I wrote it down in neat handwriting, and submitted it to my teacher. The essay was sent to Delhi to be judged. Well….two months later, I stood awestruck in front of my chemistry teacher as she opened and showed the letter that was addressed to me along with a 10,000 rupee cheque.

I guess that began the revolution. I began my crusade to turn myself into the amazing person that I am today. I took part in other competitions, and..won in all of them. Dang, I was turning rich by the day.

By this point of time, I thought that my luck had run dry. However, another opportunity came by, an opportunity that helped me finalize my decision. I got to edit the Times Of India student edition, and the editor over there saw some amount of potential in me. I took her e-mail ID, and since then, I’ve been getting opportunities to do stuff for the newspaper remotely. Sure, I wasn’t the only one, but I was overwhelmingly ecstatic about the fact that I was a part of the ‘junior editors’. And that day, that moment, the contentment, the joy, the enormous relief I felt when I realized that THIS is where I fit in was enough to convince me of the fact that Journalism was my career.

All my accolades and accomplishments increased my self worth. My friends.. I don’t know what I’d have done without them or their support. They propped me up repeatedly through my tough times, and for that, I truly love them (no homo). Thanks guys. Everything started looking, well, bright. I asked my teachers for help in my academics, and they willingly provided it, for which I’m extremely grateful. And I know now, that although I don’t make a good science student, although I may not score a brilliant percentage in my exams, I’ll  make one helluva good journalist.

So this here, is my story: The beginning, the journey, the end….well, it ain’t really the end, is it? Hence, laddies, don’t give up hope. Make decisions after seeing your own passion, and don’t follow the sheep, seeing as that’ll get you nowhere.

I do hope that this sends out the message, and a good one at that. Okay. I’m gone.

-Apra-out (~O_O~)