The Cam Chronicles

I would wait here till the right person came to take me home and care for me. That's was all I kept saying to myself as I perched high on the shelf of the camera shop.... Oh, so you don't want to hear me out! I thought this blog was some place, I could speak my heart out and tell someone how things have come to happen in my life. I am sure you would want to hear me out. Do read ahead...

I am a sleek, 3rd generation semi SLR camera. I boast of most awe-inspiring features and capabilities. Check out my zoom and various presets. Am sure I make the other lesser compacts burn with envy. Ever since we made it out of the factory, proving our worth to their quality department, my friends have been selling like hot cakes. As each one starts his own journey to be the best to capture this world onto the 8 million pixels we have, I am a bit cautious on enduring onto the journey. I would want to be taken home by someone who is as passionate about photography as I am. Together we could capture some of the best sights this world had to offer. I won't mind being in the kitty of a gadget geek, as long as he takes me out the first, to flaunt in front of his friends. That's the status and attention I want to enjoy. And so I keep a watchful eye on every customer who comes into the shop and demands for someone like me. I just look at him from head to toe and if I know that it just wont click, I try to hide behind others or even nudge my unaware neighbour to be caught hold of by the shopkeeper. I know its cruel but I want to be spared the agony. I cant imagine my life with someone who would not care for me.

That morning I was still asleep I guess. Still living the dream I had last night. Making it to the pedestal with my owner to grab the most prestigious photography award in the world. Well, that was still a distant vision but somehow I knew it that I would make it one day. There was already someone at the counter. Seemed like a spoilt kid throwing tantrums for an expensive toy. His dad offered him to buy another camera so that he could first learn something about photography and then go on to buy more expensive ones. Sound advice, I thought, but the kid wouldn't budge. The father finally gave in and offered to pay by check. I thought I missed whom they were talking about and was still thinking who would that unfortunate fellow be to be owned by such a dorky kid when the shopkeeper reached out and grabbed me by the box. NOOOoooo.... This cant be. Of all the cameras in the shop, he had to pick me! My heart sank, I knew my life was ruined.

Though I was taken to rich family living in a lavish house, that kid was my worst nightmare. All he wanted to do was shoot aimlessly and then delete the snaps. He didn't was a clue as to what photography was and what care should be taken of the equipment. Soon I started running out of batteries as he never bothered to charge them, the lens was messed with his finger impressions. Cant you wash you hands after munching on a chocolate and then care to touch me! Life was hell. Completely unexpected and I seemed to be stuck here. I did not know how long I could take it. I was on verge of pushing myself off the shelf and fall to the floor. Break myself into pieces to put an end to this misery. I knew that would be such a waste of this life, but what good was it anyway.

Just then a girl came into the room. First thing she did, was look at me. I gleamed back. Boy, she was delighted to see my shiny case. Wish the lens were clean enough, I could have swept her away with my sparkle. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen and unknowingly stretched my arms out begging to be picked up. Pick me up, she did. Wow, what soft hands and such a gentle grip! By the way she looked at me and examined my features, I was sure she knew much more about cameras than the dork who bought me. She gently blew the dust from my lenses and cleaned them with a soft cloth. She kissed me as if I were her priced find, only for hers to keep. I will never forget that tingling sensation. All I hoped was that she did not catch me blushing. That would have been a disaster. Suddenly someone called from the hallway. She panicked, put me back on the shelf and ran in the direction of the voice. I shouted out, "Please don't leave me", but the cry never reached her.

What was happening to me? Why did I feel that way? Why beg to be picked up and caressed and kissed? As I battled these tricky emotions, I also feared that I might never see her again. What if that really happened!?

Nothing eventful happened for a couple days. I was still thinking of her that day, when I heard raised voices from across the room. The dork who bought me was a real spoilt brat and this time his pranks had crossed the limits. From what I could understand, he somehow broke the girl's camera. She was very upset about it and cried and complained and sighed that the damage was beyond repair. The only fair thing to do, was buy her a new one. From the voice it seemed that she was the one I had been praying to meet for past few days, but when I heard what she said, my heart sank. "No. Don't buy a new one. Take me instead", I would be happy to switch places and let the dork grieve with a broken camera with him.

Somehow my prayers were answered. His mother grounded him and made him pay for his mistakes by forfeiting me. He apologized and gave me to the girl. That put a smile on her face. I will never forget that smile. I secretly clicked and saved that pretty sight in my heart forever.

Happy to have me, she went back to her chirpy self and started clicking at the flowers and birds in the backyard. She was certainly a prodigy and I saw myself being put to the best of my abilities. I always made sure that the pictures I clicked made her smile and feel proud. I was all that she had been looking for and for me the quest for the best was over. I would stay with her forever.

I had that dream again the other morning. Only this time, the girl was walking towards the stage to hold the award. We had done it. While I was still lost in the dream, she picked me up and started out before daybreak to click at the morning beauty. As I geared up for the day ahead, I knew ours was a perfect team. She knew it too.

After that she and I clicked happily ever after.

The Appraisal Aftermath

Once a year every employee has to go through the appraisal process. Double the woes if its a bi-annual one. Its the time when you are told how good you could have been but how bad you really are. Urged to work on the weaknesses but never suitable rewarded for the strengths. Also thrown in are the typical mumbo jumbo of being proactive and taking the initiative and you come out of the appraisal meeting just as clueless as you were when you went in. Although words like faith, expectations and morale have lost their meanings in the transit.

Till date almost all my managers have told me to be more proactive and take initiative. Well I do understand the words coming out of your mouth but what the hell do they mean? A senior colleague was kind enough to throw some light on the matter. After a mind numbing explanation, I thought I understood it well. But I was just fooling myself.

He was very good at it though. Always setting up important meetings , sending out invites to all, reminding them about the agenda, making quick gestures to run to the meeting room where the meeting started in five. I happened to attend one such meeting and never before had I seen anyone so tongue-tied in a discussion. So what were the invites and reminders and gestures all about? Only pep talk to prove the point, I presume. Hoping that the initiatives taken were noticed by someone, although no good ever came of it.

There was another proactive freak in my earlier company. Always ready with possible scenarios and solutions and nag everyone with anecdotal narration of how some of the proactive things done earlier paid off well. The boss just thinks of something that should be done and he is ready with it. A client needs to be sent some critical information which had come to light in recent discussion, but Mr. Proactive has already sent a mail the day before. My question is, if you are so good at peeking into the future and be ready with what your boss wants before he wants it, where the hell are you hiding your crystal ball in this office? Is it under your desk? Clearly you are too smart to work under someone like that. In fact, that someone should get demoted in the next appraisal.

Here's a thought. When I last went to such a meeting, it by no means was lesser than a war zone, where I was fighting it out, armed with client appreciation letters and thank you mails from onsite coordinators and the manager, aka "the enemy for the hour", just undermined the efforts by hurling grenades, with "proactive" and "initiative" written all over them, that gave away my position and I surrendered to be taken as a prisoner of war and made to work without tiring or complaining or taking leaves, destined to survive another year on same, if not a poorly appraised, salary. That these terms do have any comprehendible or implementable meanings or are just some pseudo jargon to boost an employee's sinking morale remains to be seen. There is no known record that generous use of such mumbo jumbo has actually boosted someones morale. I think of them more like prototypes of concept vehicles in an auto show. Awe inspiring but almost impossible to bring to the masses. Forget the masses, did the priest even practice what he just preached. There was no initiative to promote me nor was there any proactive move to help the management notice me! I stay put, doing my work which goes on as usual. It is better off without the impetus that the deceptive jargon intends to make.

What would such highly initiated proactive people , if at all they aren't a myth, say about themselves the day they start putting the '-tives' to use. Would it be like, "I took the initiative to be proactive everyday" or  maybe something like "I want to be proactive in taking this initiative" or maybe even attract severe criticism like "His proactiveness killed the initiative". I really don't know what to say. 

I have my appraisals coming soon. Maybe its time to be proactive and take the initiative to find better avenues.

A Breakfast To Die For

I glanced at the wall clock. It was almost nine and on a Sunday, this was my favorite time. Breakfast time! One quick look into the kitchen assured me that I had my favorite stuff on the menu. Pancakes, bread toasts with jam and butter and eggs. I just loved it and now all I had to do was wait for it to be served.

As I waited for someone from the kitchen to bring out the breakfast, I saw grandpa walk into the room and settle on his rocking chair eagerly reading the newspaper. Whats he reading by the way! At least do away with the politics and current affairs. Its Sunday for god's sake! Check the sports section please!!

Enter Chinu. He is the youngest member of the house. A very lovable kid and doesn't mind me sharing his food. Nor does anyone else in the family. That's why I love these guys so much. I can have all that I like and no one complains except for occasional stern wave of hand to keep me from taking more than I need.

I hear a voice from the kitchen "Breakfast's ready". Oh yea! So am I. Bring it on. I am starving already. Soon all gathered at the table with Chinu on my right and parents taking the opposite seats. Grandpa was still rocking on his chair. He would join later, I guessed and started with the first dish set on the table. Pardon my manners, but that's just me. I wasn't going to wait for others to settle down, take pancake and eggs in their plates and eat as if they had all the time in the world. I went straight for the dishes on the table. The breakfast was truly heaven like with all the best things in the world served out to me.

While I was busy with the food, I did not notice grandpa join us at the table, and went for the pancake kept for him. That must have annoyed him. He waved at me and I steered clear. Why mess with him on such a lovely day? The breakfast carried on for a while with all the jokes and laughter. Sunday mornings were really great with family. While I was still busy making more rounds for my favorite stuff, I just happened to look at grandpa from the corner of my eye. He had been following my movements very closely and before I could make out what was on his mind, he swung out the fly-swatter and splat! Leaving no time to stretch my wings and buzz off to safety, he slammed down a hard blow onto me. Escape was near impossible.

"Nasty insect" were the last words I heard. While grandpa must have been proud of his reflexes, I had paid my price to taste, what I would call, lets just say, a breakfast to die for!

That Adrenaline Rush

Riding a bike in a city is difficult. Certainly difficult if you drive in a place like Pune. If Beijing were the world capital for bicycles, then Pune is definitely the two wheeler capital on the face of this planet. Scores of new commuters hit the road everyday. A guy on way to his first job. A girl riding a dear gift from her father. An old man riding a moped older than him. A lady turning left when the right indicator is blinking. You get all kinds of people on the roads. There is no escape!

They say that if you can drive in Pune, you can drive anywhere in the world and hell am I ready to take that challenge! Been riding here for over six years now. First it was my bicycle to high school, then a moped to college and now I take my bike to work.

From the moment I put on my helmet, my jacket, my sunglasses and look into the mirror to make sure I look just as cool, its a different me on the bike. As the engine revs up and the wheels start rolling, I get the need... the need for speed. Cutting my way through the traffic, cursing the slow morons who cant even touch forty, I open the throttle and zoom ahead. I know there is no hurry. But its just unstoppable. The adrenaline rush that you get while cruising at dangerous speeds just cant be put into words. I guess you have to feel it. Sometimes I feel that my alter ego rides the bike, not me! And becomes all that I most certainly am not. Rough on roads and tough on people who want to get into a verbal fight, switching lanes and jumping signals with most insincere regards to traffic rules. But the most important thing is that it makes me feel free and in total control. That's what bikes signify, Freedom.

Sure such rash driving does not get away unpunished. I had a nasty fall once. It left its bruises on my bike, though I was lucky to get away with few days of limping. That stalled my pace and shook my confidence for a while. But the scars healed and so ebbed the fear. Now its back to insane driving on the streets. A small mistake could cost me dear.

Have there been any close calls you ask? Plenty. One in particular was when I got trapped between a truck on my right and a bus on my left. Both closing in on me from both sides. It scared the hell out of me. I was almost between the tyres of the truck. But I made it unscathed. Few others would be risking a fall on slippery roads during heavy rains, avoiding slamming myself into the rear of a tuk-tuk, missing a stupid pedestrian by an inch, had he been a second slower, he would have met the inevitable. The list would go on...

I am not a bad driver, nor is my driving a threat to anyone on the road but myself.In fact, I must be really good to have it made this far. I know a helmet does not make me immortal. But I like to take my chances. I still have a lot at stake, should I continue with this freak quest for more adrenaline pumping. And even after all the close calls why do I still continue to ride at dangerous speeds? I guess the thrill of surviving is simply addictive.

A figment of imagination

Seriously, I did not find any better title to go with this story. But that's what it is - a figment of my imagination. Here goes...

The beautiful paradise was her home. Lush greenery, overlooking mountains with the most breathtaking waterfalls one might have ever seen. The flora and fauna of her home was marvellous. She lived as if it were a fairy tale, a magical land where one would wish to stay on for hours together. She enjoyed spending her time there. Adore herself with the beautiful and fragrant flowers, make friends with some wild creatures. The fawns, birds, bunnies seemed to like her a lot and wouldn't mind coming as close.

Suddenly dark clouds gathered as if from nowhere and with a deafening thunder, started pouring all they had. As darkness befell this paradise, the flowers withered, trees shed all their leaves and the animals ran helter-skelter for some shelter in the rain. The girl did not know what was happening but all she knew was that when it happened she would be left with no food or shelter until the sun shone again. She would not know how long to wait. As the rains started pouring more heavily, flooding the brook, she took shelter in a hollow bark of a tree. Fear gripped her and all she did was pray she had the courage to wait it out.

As she fell asleep in this land engulfed with rain and storm, he woke up. Disturbed, distraught and unable to find her. He knew he had to find her. He would cross mountains and rivers, search the forest for her. But the only place he could ever find her was in his dreams. He would spend days searching for her far and wide in the treacherous lands and when his feet would no longer carry him, he would sleep and lose himself in his cherished dream. So he slept that day too.

Lucky for her, the weather was beginning to change. The floods, the thunder, the eeriness of the place had given way to blossoming flowers, lush trees, lazy brooks, twittering birds. Life was all beautiful again. She left her place of refuge in search of some food.

He knew he would find her in his dreams. He dreamed of her in the woods, talking to the birds. The animals of the forest were her best friends. They brought her some sweet fruits and flowers. He followed every detail of the dream and hoped to take that path to a place where he would find her. After all she was his priced possession.

The truth that he did not realize was that in reality he would never find her. She was but a figment of his imagination. Her existence was because he dared to imagine and let the dream grow. The girl was a prisoner in his mind. When he dreamt of her, he imagined all the beautiful things about her, but when his dream ended, his upset mind turned the whole world for the girl upside down. The madness to find her was taking its toll on him. He wandered around the forest for days, taking the paths he saw in his dreams, hoping to find her. He did not have food for many days and grew feeble as time passed by. But the urge to find her kept pushing him ahead.

As he scrambled along a cliff, he slipped and crashed on the jagged rocks below. Pain shot through his body. He cried out to her. But no one was to answer the cry. In her entrapped world she could not understand why the sun and rain were paying this frantic game of hide and seek. She wished thats it would all end soon and the old paradise would come back again.

The pain would take his life away. He knew it. And as life ceased to exist, the mind that trapped the girl was willing to let go. Free her of the prison she wasn't even aware of. The sun shone again in wonderland, the girl could see the clear skies above, see the full bloom of mother nature, feel alive again after all that she had been through. She saw beautiful angels come down. It was unbelievable, but after all that had happened so far, they knew she would believe. And as he breathed his last, she held their hand and flew away. Free.