Monday, September 04, 2006

WWW (Who wins why?)

I live to survive. I survive to live. But what if I say, Life is survival. The first two sentences then become redundant. There are four kinds of people I have met in my life, the hard workers, the smart workers, the combination workers and the leeches.

Hard workers are those who want to work hard because that is what relaxes them, that is what satisfies them, that is what gives them a sense of achievement. But somehow these kind of people are mostly those who taste a lot of failures. Why I do not know? I am smart enough to forge out a reason for this and it may be true for my own self, but it may not be universal. So lets us say I do not know for now. I must not forget that there have been certain successful people belonging to this category but that is because they have shifted their category half way.

The other category is those of winners. Those who work smart have won almost every time except for some rare events when there was something drastically wrong.

The third category is which I like the most because this is where I belong, the category of ordinaries. Firstly these people are in an ephemeral dilemma about whether they should work hard or smart. Their ability says WORK HARD….but their heart says WORK SMART….These people also get easily influenced by others. These people find idols in life. They find one, follow them and they are always looking for change, even in their idols. This is what I call the people trap. I say 70% of the people belong to this category.

These people love to succeed and they do but occasionally. Actually some of these people succeed a lot, other very little. This is because ordinary people depend a lot on luck.

Statisticians go ahead, prove me wrong because I have no respect for statistics. I will tell you why.

A famous statistic says 80% of the accidents happen on the foot path. My conclusion, walk on the middle of the road….. What do you say about this?

Statistics often give wrong results. Anyways why are we talking about statistics? Let us move on to the fourth category, the category I call the PITY category.

These people may be compared to the character of Peter Keating of ‘The Fountainhead’ by Ayn Rand. For those who have not read it, these people are those who will survive on others ideas, others actions and others initiatives. Surprisingly these people taste success a little more than the ordinary category or the combination worker. But these people lose all self respect. And respect from all.

So now I will end up with a statement which Smart workers practice with their motivation, the hard workers believe they cannot practice, the ordinary people pretend to practice, and the PITY workers practice without their own interest.

Losers will be losers until they decide to win.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

I write this poem just for one purpose. Because I have never be able to thank them enough and I never will be able to...For my raisers, my soul, my reason of existence......

Dhimant N.

My Raisers

The first tear that I dropped,
Was the symbol of eternal maternal love,
My first hair the barber cropped,
Was the discipline, she put into me.

The first book that I read,
Was the flow of paternal skills,
He may not have taught me to breathe,
But he surely taught me to clean my teeth.

These things sound so little,
And you already judged them trivial,
Not our fault, these are easy to belittle,
Thats why I write today, to thank the trivial.

Health, wealth and soul, Oh Gods, I owe to you,
My parents, my treasure, I bow to you,
I am indebted to you,me, my soul,
I promise to give you my heart,my body,as a whole !

Some day I may leave my debt half way,
That will be when I leave no longer, on that day,
Thats why I write today,what I want to say,
I will want you again, whatever price I have to pay......

Dhimrock---In my room..Missing an older life.....23 August 2006


I am in the race of life,

Like a rat, every hour I dig,

Hours I spend on the edge of a knife,

However, in the mirror, I find just a pig.

I was born to achieve absolute glory,

But a game called life changed my story,

Everyday, what others do, I just follow;

Feelings are intense, but I remain so hollow.

My question, Why am I here?

Just because, so did my peer?

But now my ego cries, in search of itself,

My eyes are hazy, and nothing is clear.

I have always taken; today I decide to give,

Call me selfish, but I give only to me,

Because further, without shame, I want to live;

So that the mirror, shows no pig, but shows only thee.

Dhimrock----22 August...sitting in the class wondering....

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Destiny is something about which everybody has their own ideas and explanations. Whenever I meet some one I make it a point to know their ideas about destiny. I personally believe 2 things about destiny which many may not agree to and they are…..

1. Don’t depend on destiny but believe in destiny.
2. Don’t make destiny a suitable excuse for all you failures.

The most interesting idea or explanation I have ever have heard about destiny is about what I write this poem. It said that a destiny is not a path on which you have to walk to reach the end. It is more like a direction of life where you have decide which small turns to take and which way to follow. According to this philosophy it would be fair to say that “One makes his own destiny and no one else does “

Dhimant N.

Destiny My Friend……

Destiny is a road, a road we can’t see,
Destiny is an end, where we have to be;
Destiny is what happens, not what one sees,
It’s a force that brings all to their knees.

One night I asked myself “Why this to me” ?
The almighty replied “Because it had to be“
I asked him why my path is ready and made?
And why cant I chose my own path to tread?

He said you can, and that’s what you do.
You choose your road and you decide what to do.
You are the only one that controls your way,
Think twice before you ask and know what you say.

The direction of your life may be preset,
But you decide how your goals are met,
There are different ways to take you to the ends,
In the way you just choose the little turns and bends.

Destiny is one hint that life chooses to give,
But its upon man how he chooses to live,
Destiny is like a jungle that you have,
In that your own glorious path you pave.

I relaxed and thought of what he spoke,
All my ideas about CHOICE seemed empty and broke,
He is right, he speaks what is right and wise.
Destiny is just a board, on which you throw the dice.

Dhimrock……….15th May 2006...00.30 Hours….About to sleep……….

Friday, June 09, 2006

It is my extreme pleasure to present my second short story. After my first short story ‘ONE’ which had a good response but many did not like it because it was highly preaching. I wrote the second story keeping the same in mind, but I have also taken care to see that my story had what I have to tell rather than what everyone wants to read.
I also hope this story comes as a much more refined product than the earlier story. I have to stop here and thank certain people here. Before putting it on my blog I had circulated the raw story to a group of people for reviewing and editing (Yes, I cant still afford an editor). Thanks for your help Preeti, Salloni, Soumam, Nirmal, Chetan and Lubna.
Regarding the story there is just one thing I want to specify. This is complete fiction except for the fact that there is a little someone who slightly resembles my main character….And I am not going to name him.
And Please bless me with your comments and criticisms so that I can do a better job next time round.

Dhimant N.


The chauvinist.

The wheels of the Ford Ikon turned slightly left on the Mahabaleshwar Ghats before taking the sharp 180 degree curve to the right. It was pitch dark except for the faint headlights of the Ikon. Suddenly two glaring lamps came in front of the car. The headlights blurred the driver’s vision for a split second and the driver totally lost control. The driver let her hands off the wheel. Mohit sitting next to the driver jumped ahead, took the wheel in his hand and turned the steering wheel to the left. Simultaneously Mohit made sure he pulled the hand brake with his other hand. The truck in front honked twice and the car dashed to a metallic surface with a huge clink. Nobody spoke for about a minute before Mohit shouted “That is why I always maintain Girls make pathetic drivers. What were you doing there Kruta ?. How could you leave the steering wheel like that? ”. Kruta was too shaken to even utter a response. Mohit continued with his lady driver bashing before he finally made a comment which was his signature. “Why can’t girls just do what they are supposed to ?”
This was just one of the many events in Mohit’s life when he showed signs of being the epitome of a chauvinist. There was no other better definition of male chauvinism than Mohit himself. Mohit short and slightly wheatish in complexion was 25 years of age. He was a software engineer who worked for a firm called ‘Software Globe’. It was his idea originally to go to Mahabaleshwar on the weekend. He was completely exhausted at work and needed a lot of relaxation. What better than to call up old college friends and go for a short two day trip away from Mumbai where they lived . Kruta had her own car which her dad had gifted. That was perhaps the only reason why Mohit let a girl drive a car when he was present around. Otherwise he generally would feel ashamed when a girl would drive a car. He felt it was a man’s job.
It was because of these shoddy ideas and beliefs that he was a hated person wherever he went, especially by girls and women.
He never made any friends at office. He attributed all the failures of ladies to their female genes and not because of their incompetence levels. However if a male failed to do his work correctly, it was his sheer incapability as an employee. In short when it came to gender, Mohit was a complete hypocrite. Put in simple words, he was a complete sexist.
He would sometimes feel ashamed of his male colleagues if a female employee did the job better. Everybody wondered why he was being tolerated at office ? But the fact was that Mohit was a super programmer. He had always been a topper at college and school levels.
It would be fair to say he was a prodigy wherever he went. Maybe there was something in his past life that probably made him the chauvinist that he was but no one at work or college ever knew.
No one dared to ask him or it would sound more perfect if it would be said ‘nobody cared to ask him‘.
Kruta her only female friend dared and cared to ask him once before he howled back at her saying “Gossiping, Is that all you ladies can do ?” Kruta was an extremely patient girl and never felt bad about Mohit’s comments.
Jay, Meet and Darren were Mohit’s closest friends, not to mention Kruta. These people had accompanied Mohit that night because Mohit was paying for the fuel of the trip and he had some good news to share with his friends, as they were informed.
Darren, a retail banker had taken a day off from office. Kruta was doing her MBA. Meet and Jay had bought a small office space where they were planning to setup their own dot com venture.
The guys pushed the Ikon while Kruta directed the steering wheel to a local mechanic shop about 1 km away from the accident spot. It was already past midnight. The journey continued after the mechanic did a perfect job and they reached Mahabaleshwar at about 4 A.M. Darren drove the car this time round as Kruta was too shaken, first by the accident and then by Mohit’s comments. This time he had hurt her badly because instead of calming her, he had started scolding her.
They rented a room at Hotel Fountain and slept well for that morning. It was at the noon lunch that Mohit broke the news about his engagement to the Junta. Darren, Jay and Meet were taken by surprise. Somewhere inside they were already feeling sorry for the girl that he would marry, because they knew well of his chauvinistic tendencies. Kruta seemed enthralled by the news but internally she too was worried about Mohit’s behavior towards girls. All of his friends wanted him to change but they were not sure how this would happen, if it did happen at all.
Mohit got engaged and later married to Neha. Neha was a very smart and an intelligent girl. She was high on emotional quotient and would get highly impractical sometimes. Their marriage was an arranged marriage and both the families knew each other through a common friend. Neha worked for a Textile company where she was a color consultant. She was a chemical engineer .
Three years of their marriage passed by when Neha got pregnant. She applied for a maternity leave in the later months of her pregnancy. Neil was born in the raining month of August. It was Mohit’s idea to call him Neil. Neil’s tiny fingers and tender body gave Mohit a pleasure beyond mention.
Mohit and Neha did not fight much when it came to routine affairs. Actually it was more because both of them had jobs which were demanding and they hardly used to spend time together. It was also one of the reasons why both were very frustrated with their love lives.
But Mohit and Neha had occasional fights on gender biasing. Initially when Mohit taunted Neha on spending more time gossiping on the phone than making food, Neha took it as a joke, but slowly she realized, it was her mistake. This was not Mohit’s habit, it was Mohit! She had something written in her little diary that she maintained as a daily exercise. “I have married a male chauvinist Pig” , it read. Sad but true.
He also occasionally troubled her with comments on how ladies used to excel at their jobs only because of their bodies and not their brains. He also maintained the earlier statement had to be true because women had no brains. Sometime Neha would burst out in anger asking Mohit to just shut up but he hardly listened to others when talking about this topic and specially if the other person was female by gender.
Once Mohit met Kruta on the road after a long time. They were talking about their jobs when Kruta told him she was on a leave for the last two days. So strong were his chauvinistic ideas that Mohit suddenly babbled that women would use even their menstrual periods as a shield to avoid work. This was when suddenly Kruta started feeling elated that she was not in touch with a male like Mohit. Mohit used to poke fun of not only women but also of their life styles. Like how they needed gallons of time to put on their make up, of how they were dependent on males, in other words parasites of nature.
Neha fed up of his comments once warned Mohit that it was getting too much, but Mohit simply replied “What else can the weaker sex do but complain?” ! Neha had no words to reply. She simply kept quiet.
The date was 23rd May ; It was their marriage anniversary. Neha had planned a good candle light dinner at one of the best restaurants in Mumbai. She was home at 5 P.M. that day, which was 5 hours earlier than her daily routine of coming back. Mohit generally came home at about 9 P.M., but that night he did not come home at his routine time. Neha got worried and dialed his mobile number. The phone rang but Mohit did not pick up. She tried calling him for about one hour after which she gave up. Mohit called up a minute later after her last try. Neha had already lost her patience and started crying on the phone. Mohit said he was in a friends birthday party and he had forgotten to inform her. In stead of consoling her, he started poking fun of her emotional state of mind. He simply said “Get over the sentimental stuff Neha, you girls are too much. Can’t you just be logical sometimes? , we will go for dinner tomorrow?” She simply said Ok and slammed the phone down. She started weeping but she was thinking at the same time. After a moment or so, she realized she was not going to let a male like Mohit destroy her. On the contrary she felt how Mohit was disillusioned about the other sex. She felt her life had been ruined by marrying him and in her social surroundings, a divorce and the divorcee were a taboo and an insult for the entire family. There were very few options available to her and she knew Mohit would never change.
At this moment the impractical and emotional self of Neha ‘s character was dominant over her logical senses. She did what she had to.
She made a glass of Mohit’s favorite Mango Lassi and kept it in the refrigerator. She knew Mohit very well. He would definitely pay a visit to the refrigerator before he went to sleep. And he could not resist the chilled glass of Lassi, no matter if his stomach was full or not. Neha then went to the storage room. She picked up the bottle of slow rat poison that they used every week. She poured two spoons from the bottle in the glass of Lassi, and stirred it well. She also made sure she added only that much poison which would not make the Lassi smell weird. She had made a mistake in marrying him but she was not going to make a mistake while killing him Neha then called up her father and told him that she was coming over to stay for the night as she was missing them a lot. Her parents house was about a two hours journey from their house. Neha knew when the police would come to know about Mohit’s death, she was the one who would be arrested first. It was very evident they did not enjoy a happy married life and they had lots of fights lately. She could not escape the law. More ever it seemed she did not want to escape the law. So she decided she would spend some time with her parents before she would consume some poison and end her life too. It was better than spending her remaining life in a jail. It would be highly unfair to both herself and to Neil who was calmly sleeping in the bedroom. It was all sounding highly illogical but that is what her state of mind was at that time.
She wrote a sticky note reading “Off to parents house as Papa is not well; will return in the morning”. She put up this note on the dining table. She picked up Neil, wore her favorite pink kurta for the last time and glimpsed at the nameplate of their home for the last time. She walked out of the house in the moonless night.
It was 2 A.M when Mohit returned. Mohit changed his clothes, read the note, made his visit to the refrigerator, had the Lassi at about 3A.M without an iota of doubt. He blessed Neha for the chilled Lassi and rushed to the bed with his Philips Mp3 Player. He was in a mood to listen to some good soft music. He was unaware that the two spoons of rat poison would kill himself in about 4 hours or so. And it would be precisely 3 hours before he would start choking and foaming from his mouth. Mohit thought of calling Neha and ask about her Papa‘s health, but he thought it was too late. More ever he felt like talking to Neil but he somehow decided against it as it was too late.
In the meantime, Neha had finished talking to her Papa and Mom about routine stuff. Neha decided against a painful and slow death. She put her hands in her purse to take out the Rat Poison bottle but to her horror she realized she had forgotten it on the table in the kitchen. She was hoping that Mohit did not see it. On the other hand paradoxically she thought of a better life. Mohit should see the bottle, avoid the Lassi, she would apologize and one fine day Mohit would improve on his weaknesses. But these feelings seemed too far fetched for then. She knew Mohit had not yet called. It meant he had consumed the Lassi and he must be sleeping just awaiting his death. She felt like listening to his voice once before she bid goodbye to this world. But she did not. She was a coward, but a strong brave coward !
She consumed about 25 sleeping pills from the bottle his Papa used for insomnia. At about 4 A.M she breathed her last leaving a letter for her parents of how Neil was now completely their responsibility. She never mentioned anything about the poison and Mohit because she did not want a chance that her parents save Mohit. She just mentioned that she was sick of life and that was about the only reason for her to commit suicide. And she knew they would soon know about Mohit too. But her emotional thoughts forced her to make a slight mistake in predicting the consequences of her death and she failed in her calculations. And it gave Mohit his last chance to do what he wanted to and he did.
Neha’s mother came in her room to wake her up for the 5.30 A.M pooja. She found out the letter, and the first thing to do after screaming was to call up Mohit. Mohit heard what had happened. At the same time, he started feeling sick in his stomach. He was feeling like he was about to vomit. His body was feeling weak and his throat dry. He was finding it a little difficult to breath. He thought of taking a little paracetamol pill so that he would feel fit and leave for her parents house. He was in the kitchen to fetch the pill when he saw the bottle of slow rat poison in front of him. The prodigy understood everything. He sat on the chair next to him almost as if he fell on it. He had nothing to do. He knew he hardly had time. It was almost 3 hours past that he had consumed the poison and there was not a chance in hell that he could save himself. The closest hospital too was about an hours distance from their house, ‘his house’ he corrected his thoughts. He also doubted he could make it there on his own in that condition.
He thought about all this in the fraction of a second. He accepted the fact that he was going to die. Then suddenly he hurried as if he had some urgent work. He went to his bedroom, opened up his drawer . He took out his favorite gold plated Parker fountain pen. He also pulled out a notebook, crisply tore a single page out of it. He sat on his study where he used to read the newspaper and also do his daily dose of work. He settled down on his chair and opened up his pen to write something. He was about to write something when there was sudden thoughts started flashing to his mind. Mohit closed his eyes. His thoughts, like the accident night at the ghats, were pitch dark. He thought about his dad, the famous novel writer. His dad always used a pseudo name ‘Sunny’ to sign his books because he was an introvert. That was the reason his dad’s past was not well known to others. His dad had 3 international best sellers to his name, his pseudo name. Then Mohit thought about his mom, the upcoming stage actress. She had met Mohit’s father at a local Grocery shop. They fell in love, and married each other. Mohit’s Dad used all his writing influence to get her wife small roles at local theatres. She spent a lot of time and money on portfolios, before she made it to a big banner movie as a lead actress. It was about then Mohit was born. Mohit’s eyes blinked and he thought how from that day onwards, dad had literally slogged it out at home, given up on full time writing. He thought how Mom had hardly cared about him while concentrating on her career. The entire house now ran on her movie earnings. He wondered why his dad had played the roles of a house keeper, a baby sitter, a cook and all that by killing his own ambitions. Was it that he loved mom that much or did he respect women more than they deserved. His dad was a gentle man but had he been too altruistic to mom ? Mohit eyes were still closed and his thoughts still intense. Then he thought about the day when her mom had decided to divorce her dad and as soon as she did it, how she married movie director Mr.Pai. He thought about what women meant to him after that day, Of how he hated everything about women after that day. These thoughts about Mohit’s past rarely came back to him, but when they did, they stayed with him for long. These thoughts were what had made Mohit what he was, a complete sexist. He did not shed a tear, he never did.
Mohit opened his eyes to the paper in front of him and his fountain pen. He scribbled something quickly on the paper and signed the paper. He also quickly wrote something in a small brown diary on his study drawer. The phone kept on ringing in the meantime. It were her parents. They were waiting for him to reach there so that they could carry out her last rites. Little did they know they were in for another disaster.
But all Mohit did was smoke his last cigarette. He sat in front of Neil’s photograph. He never thought about Neha all this time. He did not cry. He did not curse anyone. He just relaxed and waited for his death. It seemed Mohit was very satisfied with his life and it seemed he had nothing to worry about.
At about 7 A.M when the phone was still ringing , Mohit died on his chair in a relaxed position foaming from his mouth. He had Neil’s photograph near his chest and his dad’s 1973 bestseller ‘MATCHSTICK’ on his lap.
The police came in at around 9A.M with Neha’s parents. Her parents were shocked to see Mohit dead too. The police were thinking about what happened when they saw the single piece of paper signed by Mohit. It read

I Mohit, declare that I am committing suicide at this point of my life only because of personal problems. No one else is responsible for my death. No one. I am signing this under no pressure . I am fully responsible for my actions.
23rd May 2007
This made everything clear to the police. They needed no more evidence. Her parents did not know why all this happened and they would never know the truth. But everything was clear to the law. Two suicides in a day, and both because of personal relationship reasons. They had a clear case and no complexities to worry about.
But something else remained on the study table which the police and most others could make no sense of.
The last page of the brown diary read at a corner “Everybody has labeled me a male chauvinist throughout my life, today I accept I am. I am some sort of a misogynist too, if not completely so and I accept that too. I have no regrets in anything I thought or felt The reasons are manifold, but they do not matter any more. One thing is for sure. I cannot be beaten by a woman. I will not let history, the media and the newspapers remember me as a person whose downfall was brought about by a woman. I decide otherwise”
This hardly made sense to anyone else but he knew what he was writing and he knew what he wanted to do.
He wanted to die a chauvinist and that’s what he did He died, and he died a male chauvinist !

Dhimrock…….27th May 2006.…2 AM…. At my home, in Mumbai…on my desk.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

My FIRST Short story........


Its always easier to write about sad things and its damn difficult to write about the good things in life. This has been my experience. The only explanation for this is maybe because the good event that has happened is lying in front of everyone to see. And somehow visual pleasure is much better than words. Words have an incapability of doing justice to happy events. This is about what I think as a writer and I in no way intend other writers to agree with me.
This is the reason why you will find the preamble interesting as it has some sad events of my own life and I am that kind of a person who can laugh on my own weaknesses.
However for me the second most difficult thing to write is a short story.
This story took me about one and a half month to write and I am still not sure about the product that has evolved.
My excuse for the same is that the character was very strong and the ideas I wanted to convey through it equally strong. Also as an interesting thing was that I was completely lost many a times during writing this story.
But again my excuse will fail completely as some may realize that the character is inspired by a true life character. A little fiction, in fact a lot of fiction was involved but that was more in the story telling part rather than the character sketch. I am too poor to offer royalty to the character I have used but if it does sue me, I will have no option but to pay up !

I had been on a short trip to a holy place called Nathdwara in Rajasthan with my parents. That is where I decided to write the last 3 lines of my story. The title of the story is because of two reasons

1)The ONE main character pushes the story from the start to the end.

2) I type this story with just ONE hand, as I met with an accident this morning which almost crushed my left elbow, thankfully it got only slightly cracked.

I hope you read the story to the end. In fact if you get this far, my kind request to comment on the same because this is the first time I am writing a story. The comments could be highly critical. I promise to improve upon my errors and deliver better the next time round. Also no comments will be edited on this blog.
I hope this introduction does not become longer than the story. So I stop here.

Ruskin Bond is a master at writing short stories and he has got a style every short story writer would love to imitate. My salutes to him before ending or should I say before starting.


“Help”, she screamed. ”Help, somebody”, she shouted a little loudly. She leaped from near about the window where she was standing to the sofa, her favorite spot in the house. She picked up her mobile phone, her most precious possession these days and her small little soft fingers dialed the numbers they were most accustomed to these days. ”Trust”, she shouted on the phone. “Help, there is a lizard in the house” she continued still shrieking. Trust, his newest friend wanted to laugh but he did not dare, because he realized the gravity of the situation. Lizards were just one of the few things she was frightened of. Trust with a giggle on his face but not in his voice replied in the calmest tone possible “ Relax and call up the maid Jelly”. “Do not be a fool Trust, there is no maid around and you know it, did I not tell you Bai is on leave and its 11.30 P.M” ? “Sorry ,in that case, just pick up a stick and tap the floor near the lizard at a place opposite to where you want it to go. And I am sure that place is out of the window.” he said. Trust was sure she would not do it. So he added on a lighter note “By the way do you know Jelly how terrified the lizard would be when she saw you ? We are afraid of the lizards because they look weird and have a weird tail and crawl on four legs, but don’t you think the lizard would be terrorized to death after seeing a wicked ugly looking monster walking on two legs with weed like black stuff growing on her head that also shrieked with a frightening voice ?”
This was not at all true because Jelly looked extremely beautiful and Trust knew this too. In fact the one thing Trust liked most about her was her hair and her voice even if she was screaming but he did prefer it when she just whispered or when she talked.
Jelly chuckled this time round but not liking the idea of she being called a monster said “Well said Trust but I pity the lizard that would come to visit your house and specially to visit you, hehe” and she continued giggling. Trust chuckled too and responded, “Now you know my secret of killing lizards, you don’t even need to kill them, they just die”. Both of them burst out laughing. This calmed out Jelly but the true fear subsided only after she saw the lizard moving out of the window.
She was in her final year of her graduation during this episode and she was studying late at night for her final exams. Jelly had decided to take an unconventional career, something most people don’t take up as it is not so respected by the society.

It was already midnight and after speaking to Trust on the phone, she kept the phone down immediately. She would do so because she had this weird habit of saying things when she was about to fall asleep, things that she believed made no sense. As soon as she realized she was about to blabber she kept the phone down and slept on the sofa itself. And she started dreaming.
Jelly like most other girls on this planet loved to dream. She dreamt of chocolate and she dreamt of monsters and fire. She dreamt of things she loved and she dreamt of things she feared. She dreamt of her favorite color pink and she dreamt of a complete pink world around her. A pink wall, a pink phone, a pink chair etc…
Little did she know that dreams are always prelude to a destiny and that a dream would soon change her life.
She loved to narrate her dreams to others, she described her dreams to Cielo. Cielo was her closest friend, her sister, her other half, the inseparable half to be precise. Occasionally she would also narrate her dreams to Trust who would listen to them most carefully.
Jelly would get excited with a beautiful dream and extremely terrorized by a bad one. Everybody does but very few actually express them. And she did.

This time round she dreamt herself to be outside a huge gate locked from inside. She saw a couple of people sitting and listening to someone sitting on a nearby bench.
She could hear a voice talking but failed to see who was talking as it was a distorted figure. She tried rubbing her eyes but that would not help. It still looked pretty much distorted as if she was seeing the figure through an opaque glass. But she could hear his voice clearly. The voice had uttermost clarity of words, it had patience embedded and confidence was oozing out of the words. It was as if you wanted to believe what it said and more than anything, the voice inspired trust. In short the voice sounded divine and nobody wanted to doubt what it said. Such was the power of the voice. Only good music could second the aural feeling that the voice spread.

The voice said “Jelly was about the most expressive girls you could ever meet in a lifetime.”
Jelly was shocked to hear her name but nevertheless she continued listening.
“She is a born paradox, the epitome of opposites. She is small in stature and still rises much higher above others. Jelly is her name, but she is an extremely tough nut to crack, she wont give up. And she is damn expressive when it comes to real life situations but she many a times fails to express her true inner strengths.
Everything about her has an aura.
The one thing she wanted to do in her life was to earn lots of money. And the most striking part about her personality was and is that she is prepared to call herself selfish, something many just cant accept.
Being selfish without bringing others down is the biggest favor to humanity. It is an act of altruism. A superior human race will not be formed of countless selfless people but of innumerable selfish people who are not afraid to dream and to realize those dreams.
There are 2 ways of reaching the top and realizing your dreams. One is to push yourself up and the other is to push others down. Both will keep you at the top. The earlier way will let you be at the absolute top but the latter will just get you relatively higher. We must believe in being better than the best and not just better than the rest. And that is what Jelly believed.”

The disciples kept on nodding their heads and Jelly was keenly listening, still trying to figure out who was speaking with such wisdom. She would have loved to meet such a person in her life. He could have guided her. And she would have never failed at all.

The voice continued “ But she had one weakness, and that was she had too many strengths. The biggest misconception among humans is an ordinary person cannot have infinite strengths or a person of infinite strengths would no longer be called ordinary .“ The number of strengths and weaknesses do not separate the extra ordinary from the ordinary. What separates them from the ordinary is how many of these strengths are realized in their life times. And to realize these strengths, one has to walk the path less treaded, the path ordinary people neglect or fear. Jelly decided to walk such a path too. Once these people reach the end of such a path , a strength is realized and then they move on to their dream.
One dream that we always wanted to come true but thought it never would is actually nothing but a culmination of all of our strengths.
Humans are often taught that ‘Nothing Is Impossible’ .” The voice stressed theses words. And it had the desired effect on Jelly and the disciples. They eagerly wanted to hear what came next. It said
“There is nothing called perfect, it is in search of perfection that most ordinary people get lost.”
He continued “ Being happy does not mean everything is perfect, it just means you have decided to look beyond the imperfections”.
A silence came next. Everyone was trying to digest what the voice said. All of them including Jelly stared feeling so much perfect and happier than they ever did.
At this point Jelly felt a tear in her eye. She did not wipe it off. She could not understand why it originated. She could hardly believe what she heard. She wondered
if the divine voice actually spoke about her, Jelly the dreamer. She wanted to believe that The Jelly she was hearing about was some one else but she was convinced she was the one in the spotlight.
The tear flowed down her cheek when she thought about how she was ridiculed by most, even by some of her closest ones for taking up a career that was less chosen, a career she thought would get her what she wanted. She though of how the society relates winners to their field of study and not their capabilities. She realized how naïve the people had been and how stupid she herself had been to even considered to believing those naïve ideas. This dream was turning out to be the most energetic dreams she had ever witnessed. There was no pink in it but it was still so beautiful, there was no prince to love but it was so romantic, she had found a new love, herself.
And she was no longer afraid to say she had an ego. She loved herself and she knew that there is nothing wrong about it. She closed her eyes, she thought of all the money that she wanted to earn, she thought of the management college she wanted to study in, she thought about the six figure salary she wanted to earn in a top level investment banking firm, she thought about the man she wanted to love. The dreams which appeared at the horizon now shot in front of her eyes. All she needed to do was to extend her hand.
She was about to climb the gates and thank the divine voice when a phone call woke up her dream.

“Hello dear”, said trust, “you were supposed to call me at 7. Remember we have to attend the meeting”
Jelly struggled to wake up. She stretched her arms, yawned, cleared her throat and then started thinking what is going on. This was her routine. She is in a ‘woken up’ state only after this routine.
Then she says “Hello trust, what meeting ?”
Trust giggled and sounded slightly urgent. ”Jelly, if we do not leave in an hour and do not manage to sell the IBM bonds to HSBC Global, we will have no jobs and no one to pay for our marathon talks on the phone like last night.” Then he figured out he had a chance to embarrass her. So he said “ Jelly, do you have any idea what you were talking about last night”. She had a slight idea, but she replied “No”.
“Jelly, remember yesterday we were talking about how you were frightened by a lizard and called me up 4 years back. Your parents were out and you were studying Economics for your final exams?” You were telling me how petrified you were then. You were damn sleepy yesterday. So I had to take advantage of it. So I popped up the question, I always wanted to ask. I asked you that in spite of being ridiculed by most people around you for your career choice and still how did you land up in a top job at DSP Meryl Lynch ? And trust me the answer was mind boggling. You told me what you believe“. Trust had a habit of speaking too much. He continued “Anyways, I will pick you up in about one hour. I will let you know what all you talked about. I am sure you will love to hear it.”
Jelly was shocked and could not speak. She pretty much knew what she talked and she realized what that divine voice was. The only voice that is so divine is our inner voice. She knew when the brains do not connect, the true inner voice speaks. She knew why she was so successful. She heard her inner voice more than others did. She thought about a thousand excuses how to avoid this topic when Trust would bring up this topic for discussion. Then she looked at the phone she was talking on. It was the pink Moto Razr she had always wanted. She continued being in that excited happy state until it dawned upon her how the IBM bonds could break or make her career that she shouted ‘Breakfast Mom’.

My After thoughts……

The only thing I would like to mention here is the basis of my selection of names of the 3 characters.
Cielo means heaven in Spanish….Cielo was truly her heaven. She was her best friend.
Trust because of the relationship between Trust and Jelly. They seemed best friends, pals, sometimes both of them also thought about each other as their life partners. But their relationship was fundamentally built on a single entity called Trust.
And Jelly to highlight her paradoxical existence as mentioned in the story above.

So the names. That’s about it.
My single hand has done a lot of typing for the day. Good bye.

Dhimant N.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Hi,Lots of poems and articles written by me,one or two song lyrics(not original :) ), and one Shayri I guess.I thought its time to write something different.I thought I will try my hand at quotes.Hope you appreciate it...and ya todays date is special..........

So here are some of my quotes:

1) Dediacted to my stay of 24 months at my first job

" Nothing motivates me more than lack of motivation "

2) Dedicated to Ayn Rand and the Fountainhead

" People hate me not because I make lots of mistakes;
They hate me because i accept them too often ....... "

3) Dedicated to a new friend.This is just for you

" Friends are a little like honey and a little like money,
They are sweet, and not easy to find .
But in my opinion they are more like money because some more will never hurt ,infact many more will never hurt"

4) Dedicated to all the poor decision makers, including me :)

"Decisions are never right ot wrong, but the consequences are.....So go ahead ,make that decision,you will never be wrong"

5) Dedicated to the bibliophiles

“A book, is a man’s true friend, because it gives you knowledge and expects nothing in return, not even loyalty.”

Dhimrock----04/05/06 At my office

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

I think I do not need to write anything about why I am writing this poem and for whom , because I have tried to maintain uttermost clarity in terms of the purpose and the recipient of my ideas…I hope I have succeeded.

But If Ever

Darling, No one will ever dare to make you sad,
Because you are under my care, and I love you like mad,
But If Ever I am not there to care,
Promise me, your smile will always be there.

I love your voice and I know you like mine too,
Whenever we talk, words start flowing like butter,
But If Ever your words don’t find my company,
Keep talking the way you do; Never ever stutter.

We sleep on the same cozy bed,
And I kiss your lips which are rosy and red;
But If Ever I am not by your side,
Don’t miss my touch, my beautiful to be Bride.

You like the song when I sing for you,
Which is weird, for such people are very few,
But If Ever I can’t sing for you dear,
Realize that I am no more, But you still have to cheer.

We can’t live without each other,
And for each others happiness we crave;
But If Ever, I fail to live forever with you jelly,
Forgive me, forget me, and just put some flowers on my grave……

1st May Dhimrock
Thinking about you,Sitting at home….

Brands....What Brands ????

This is the first blog I am publishing from my new laptop I bought just Yesterday. I take the opportunity to write about my favorite topic ’BRANDS’ on my new laptop or as these days better known as Notebook. Although I am still pretty naïve to write about BRANDS;I think I will do it. If Brand Management was a religion then Al Ryes and Jack Trout would definitely have been God. Both have an amazing clarity of thought when it comes to brands.
It took me about an hour to write this article not only because of the fact that I am just an amateur at brands, but also because the static touch pad of a laptop is pretty difficult to get used to after using a mouse for 11 years, but it will happen soon. I still remember the first time I tried to double click on a mouse. It seemed damn difficult but it is just like the blink of an eye now. Also forgive some formatting mistakes in the article because it is a branded laptop and I could not afford a complete MS Office original CD.I am writing using a software called MS Works which came along with the package. Actually to be frank I could have easily afforded to buy the MS Office cd for 3500 bucks but the fact is that we live in a country where buying authentic software is not very popular and I simply could not digest the fact that I am paying Rs.3500 for MS word which is easily available everywhere and for which no one pays. So I decided I will install a pirated version soon, and till then use the software MS Works. It seems pretty pathetic ,but it seems I can at least write and share my thoughts.
The Notebook is a new Sony VAIO FJ270.This is the costliest investment I have made on a computer ever. Not because that the configuration is mind boggling or something. It is good no doubt or in fact amazing just like most of my choices….. Forgive my boasting here but there are certain incidents that make me believe so. It’s a 1.86 Giga Hertz Intel Centrino processor with 1GB RAM and 100 GB Hard disc. Its got an integrated Motion Camera and an inbuilt Microphone. Both of them have amazing clarity.
But I guess the price I paid still seems too much to me. The reason is that I have never bought a branded computer and a branded original software. And the paradox is that I want to be a brand manager, who will make other people believe that paying a premium for a brand is indeed worth it. I am not changing my stance here on what I have believed for most of my life and I am also not being a hypocrite. Its just that I always knew that a branded product gives me one very important thing “Promise of value”. It is then the responsibility of the product to fulfill the promise. If it fails then both the product and the brand fail. And money spent on building the brand and the entire brand building will look like a useless exercise.So the product is equally important and it is only the quality that can sustain a brand.

“Brands are exactly like human beings. If you engage them, they blossom, if you ignore them they shrivel, they get hurt easily, and once they fall down it is very difficult to bring them up again”

In today’s world when getting into the minds of the customer is very important, brand is an asset of marketing I feel no company can or ideally should not ignore. They may have a detailed report of their product and depending on the feasibility they may decide not to invest money on their brand, but my point is that it should at least be considered as a important factor and it should be at least thought about.

What is your favorite brand ? is a question that keeps on popping up among friends, family etc.
In fact the real motivation of me writing about brands today was triggered by the same question which Divya asked me today. I answered Provogue , Nike, and many more. But then I realized there are 2 ways of answering this question. One is just saying what brand you like to possess and the other way is by going back and looking at the fact that which product has been branded the best. Most brand managers think in this way. It is not wrong to think that way. But I want to be a brand manager and if I ever do, then I would like to answer this question the first way. The reason being that at the end of the day the consumer makes the choice and it is very important to think their way. Most of these consumers have an image in their mind about a brand and a feel good factor. You have to acknowledge it and respect it to be a successful. Brand manager. You have to know what the consumer thinks about the brand and not what you think, only then can you make successful decisions about your brand and that too with extreme confidence.

Another important and the most basic question about brands that keeps on coming is,
What is a brand after all ?
I think a product has a physical attachment with the customer, but a brand has a emotional attachment with the consumer, and a good brand has a stronger emotional attachment with the consumer. This is fine but what astonishes me is the fact that some people have limited the brand concept to just products and services. And surprisingly, they know a particular brand is a good brand, but they do not know why ?
Let me explain.
If you ask me which is my favorite brand, I will say ‘Superman’. Many people would be surprised because of my choice, those who are not surprised will be when I tell them why.
If I ask those not so surprised people, why Superman could be my favorite brand, many would say because it is one of the highest selling comics, some would say because it was a very successful movies. This is what the problem is. Ok my choice is Superman because it has a strong emotional attachment and that’s because Superman is every child’s fantasy to fly. Can there be a stronger emotion attached ? The answer is No.
When this is realized by most Indian Brand managers , India will not only start producing brands which are strong, but they will be globally recognized and will be competitive than the Nikes and the Sonys….

Time to end this article as all the purposes are over. I am well versed with the new static pad, I am feeling comfortable with MS Works, the cheap replacement for MS Office and I think I have answered the question of what my favorite brand is and why. Thank you Divya for triggering the thought.

30tH April Dhimrock ….on the bed my house….

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Catalepsy--------Can (MD) I Speak too ?

I am not afraid of most things on this planet and maybe the things that I am most afraid of have never happened to me so far.So I took some time out to sit,think and evaluate what would frighten me the most or for that matter even frighten me.I though a lot and finally cam to a conclusion.

The most frightful day of my life would be when my son/daughter walks upto me and tells me "Papa,I think I will appear for CAT".I would be shattered.Somehow after sometime I will compose myself.l
Sounds scary.Does it not ? It does not !! Oh ! In that case let me take this oppurtunity to present to you an entity called CAT.

Before I move on,If you did not understand what the first part of the title means,CATALEPSY means exactly what I feel when I get the CAT paper in my hands.
'State of trance or seizure with loss of sensation'
The exam CAT (COMMON APTITUDE TEST) is held every year by the brilliant people at IIM's for students who want to pursue a career in management.And trust me there are many type of samples who appear for CAT.In the 3 years that I appeared for CAT,I came across frustrated software engineers,I came across more frustrated Call Centre employees, and I came across people whose graduation degree did not get them a good job.But this is not the sad part.The sad part or more appropriately the "FUN" part is that I came across people who had no idea why to do management,I came across people who did not know what specialisations are offered in a MBA course,and I came across fools who believed MBA is the acronym for Masters in Business Administration'. Can you believe that ? People belonging to this group do not deserve to pursue management at all.They do not deserve to read or WRITE articles.MBA actually stands for...Hmmm.Forget it How is it important now.I have already got an admission.For me the CAT is the past now.
Coming back to acronyms, when you appear for these management exams,you come across exams having weird acronyms like MAT,CAT,XAT,ATMA,NMAT,SNAP etc.

Remembering dates for each of these exams and storing hall tickets for all these exams is a pain in the neck.It is very common for people to go for the XAT exam with the CAT hall ticket and vica-versa.This is an aptitude test in itself.Why dont they call HAT,hall ticket aptitude test?
After I appeared for CAT the second time,,i was wondering if the acronym of CAT actually makes sense because firstly CAT does not seem to be an aptitude test from any angle.It is more like an intelligience test.Secondly I wondered If I am being fooled,CAT does not stand for Common aptitude test.
CAT could easily stand for

But I came to a conclusion that CAT best stands for


A famous quote says "If you fail at everything,try management."
There are huge number of people who appear for CAT for more than one time and after all its so easy to remember and its realistic too...
Another intresting acronym: MBA---Money Buys All...
Thousand of students bitten by this MBA bug every year go thorugh the annual CAT trauma every year.It begins by going to weird SBI branches to get a silly examination form.This CAT form is filled up and hen the exercise of deciding which college is better for me game.This game is played by almost all the students.The 2 players of this game are the student and his luck.He/she may toss a coin and decide whether to fill a particular college form.
After he decides,he gets the form of that college.Firstly these B-schools have an unique way in which they are named.A weird acronym is followed by the place where it is situated. Like MDI Gurgaon,IMT-Ghaziabad,IMT-Nagpur,XIM-Bhubaneshwar,TAPMI-Manipal and hundreds more.......
This vocabulary is hardly understood by anybody outside the CAT fraternity.The original style of having a decent college name has completely become extinct.
And to add to that,then there are colleges who have such weird acronyms,you tend to misplace even the letters of the acronym,they are actually tongue twisters.
SCHMRD is just one of such names,sorry oops...SCMHRD...and people call it SMHRCD and SCRHMD and what not my God.It also some times sounds like a Sooraj Barjatya movie acronym.
But the real fun starts when you open the prospectus of these B-schools.There are 2 things that you will find in atleast the prospectus of the B-grade colleges.

1) An image of 3-4 students sitting in a lush green garden carrying their laptops.Of these 3-4 people atleast there has to be atleast one hot looking female(hired from which modelling agency I dont know).Also the venue could be a staircase instaed of a garden which is another common location on these images.
2) The professors have got their honourable MBA degrees from places like Jalandhar University,Patiyala University,Annamalai and kulfi and what not universities.These proffesors from reputed universities are going to sahpe my career.I am so excited.I wonder why these people are being so altruistic and teaching in colleges when they such degrees from these reputed universities.
Finally these forms get filled, you somehow manage to remember dates of all these exams,you appear for them and then you may or may not be shortlisted for the next stage.You are dead if you are not,as you will have to go through the entire annual trauma again.And If you are shortlisted,you are even more dead,considering you will be called for a PI.A PI is a masochistic idea and it seems a student is begging and saying P(lease) I(nsult)
Some day when the interveiwer asks me "Why MBA?" I want to answer to him saying
"I am actually reconsidering,after knowing you are a MBA"
And then if he asks me "What's your goal?",I want to answer,"my goal may be something trivial but it is not to do a MBA from a reputed institute like yours and then conducting PI's in a MBA college and God save me if it was your goal once upon a time".
Anyways I have been traumatized enough,I am so glad I have cleared CAT and as people say CRACKED CAT.I always wondered why it is called CRACKING? At the end of the entire CAT episode,either your nut sized brain is cracked or the door to a good B-school cracks open.
MDI Gurgaon has made the most unforgivable sin of their life time by admitting me and I will ensure that they repent.And I am so glad another important person in my life has also cracked CAT ,so that my personal life is no longer in jeopardy and free of annual tragedies.
I also had the pleasure of meeting some interesting people in the brain Fucking GD/PI's.Forgive my foul language.
Now as I enter MDI Gurgaon,I am mentally much stronger waiting for the tri-annual disasters or better known as trimesters.
I await useless presentations,another degree in my bag, a hefty pay package and not to forget 2 years of yucky mess food !!!
Overall I summarize my journey of CAT and MBA in the past 3 years as


Dhimrock----3 May 2006 my office....

Friday, April 21, 2006

For the first I am trying my hand at a different kind of writing.One fine day I was sitting at my office desk and was upset with the fact that I can no longer have fun when I Want to.I can't get with friends when I want to, i can't party when I want to,and I have too much responsiblities.I realised I wanted to be a child again...more attention...less responsiblity...
I want to know from all you readers what you think about the same...and If you have ever felt the same......If you have anything to write...use the comments section after the blog........
I hope you get the crux of the poem after reading it.However if you do will only be due to my incapablities as a amateur poet and a thinker....


My reason to smile.....

The prologue

I was playing with a liitle child one night,
I was wondering at the pleasure it brought,
It was enthralling my short stupid sight,
Curious to know,I tittilated my thought.

Me to the child

"There is nothing more beautiful in this world than seeing your face;
There is no sight more enthralling than seeing you smile;
Every worry,every though,just passes by that moment.
Can I not have just one more look, just one more touch? "

Me to me

Innocence is the highlight of their glory,
They are not aware of their life story,
If I ever get a chance to be as little, as I was, once again,
I would sacrifice all I have lived and earned,
Let it just go down the drain !

But I know,the chance is not coming,
The innocent days have fast gone running,
Today,Important is history,why I know,
Remember old days and tears will flow.

I know ,every moment gone by,
Is an ocean ,a treasure of joy,
I cry to get back those moments,
Like a little child,who just wants his toy.

Me to the child

I know you can't speak baby,
But can I ask you something ?
Can I not just be as little as you ?
Can I not have a heart like you, so pure?
Can I not be as spotless as you ?
Can I just sleep without any worry ?

Me to Me

Oh Boy ! Wrong I was,
The child can speak !
The child is an ace !
Oh! How did I forget ?
He is God's face.....

Child to me

I am here for a purpose,
I have a message to deliver,
I am no ace,though I can speak,
Yeah God's face but tiny and meek.

Here is you message.......

God to you.........

"There is nothing more beautiful in this world than seeing your face;
There is no sight more enthralling than seeing you smile;
Every worry,every though,just passes by that moment.
Can I not have just one more look, just one more touch?

Me to me

There is no words I have,
What do I say Oh now ?
I have been so naive,
Because For all that I crave,
I did not know, I always have.

For the eternal,I am the same,
Just as I was,to the world when I came,
I am still his child,for whom he cares,
I am still his little one whose joy he shares.

Now forever I can sleep ,without any worries,
I can be truthful and innocent to my core ;
Because God will give me the key
And today Oh little child I know,
He is the mighty one,who himself locks the door...........

Dhimrock..............21st April 2006

Monday, April 17, 2006

Fail,but Live.....
I know we keep telling this to each other ,that Dont worry Ho jayega !! But sorry dear,I will have to say that once again,because I dont like to see you in pain !!!!!So this is for you....

Keep Success within you all along
Do not be house for fear of failure
Coz we are no little mice,
And we live life once not twice.
I was so little and young;
When I dreamt my first victory;
My dreams were crumbled soon,
And I could not add it to history.
For every failure of mine,
I learnt a lesson so true,
Thank you failure,coz for every lesson I learnt,
I am so indebted to you.
So,now I know who my mentor is,
Teaches me so much,absolutely no fees,
You are my friend,you are my guide,
If I have Failure,why should I hide ?
With every failure,you try even more,
With an additional weapon in your armour;
If Fear lies within you,and makes you sore,
Fear will grow,just like a tumour.
Success gives you pride,failure gives you a preaching;
Fear will give only pain,failure gives you a tecahing,
Now you decide what you want dear,
You want failure or want its fear ?
Dhimrock-----------------17Th April..2006

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Saying I love you
s not the words I want to hear from you
It’s not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn’t make things new
Just by saying I love you
More than words
Now I’ve tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close don’t ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn’t make things new
Just by saying I love you
More than words

Monday, March 20, 2006


Relations are very important.You cant afford to break them.................

Silsile tor ke
Chal diye kidhar
Aik hee mor pe
Bas aik hee nazar
Beetay dino'n kee woh baatain
Yaad hain magar
Kuch naheen is jahan mein
Jo tu nahin idhar
Chahay kuch bhee ho ja'ye
Mein rahoon ga
Chahay waqt thum ja'ye
Mein rahoon ga
Mein rahoon ga hamesha
Mein rahoon ga
Maut a'ye tau a'ye
Mein rahoon ga
Aik mein aik tu
Aik hee basar
Aik hee jaan pe
Marte hain magar
Beetay dino'n kee woh baatain
Yaad hain magar
Kuch nahin is jahan mein
Jo tu nahin idhar

20th March

I write this poem for someone very special who has tasted victory on this day.This is not only to congratulate her but also to share her happiness,but if she wishes to do so !!
Also let me take this oppurtuinity to wish her All The very Best of Luck for all her future challenges.
Amen. God bless!!!

Today is the day,
The day that is for you
The poem, the poem is which I write for you
The wishes,are which I wish for you.

The rays of the sun were shining on you
Before you woke up today
The reward of all you did is with you
Before you woke up today.

I always knew you would be here one day,
When you would be smiling in your bay,
Now the day has come here with joyous times
And Happiness is measured today in joy not dimes

I know you are winning,
And there are still better times coming,
This is not the toughest challenge yet,
There are bigger challenges you bet.

But just one thing I want to say,
Easier times dont last,tougher times do...
So Dear get better with every victory,tough or easy
Make sure you keep the winner inside you always busy.
---Dhimrock Aka DJ
18th March.

Friday, March 10, 2006

This poem is dedicated to one of my closest friends who is going to lose his love forever or should I say lost...although he will never accept it to me or to anyone in his/her life..... GOD BLESS YOU FRIEND...........

The poem may seem incomplete but its not.............


Often a thought comes in my heart

if i have life under shadow of your hair
it would have been more peacefull
the ink of pain and sorrow on my heartcould've been lost in your eyes
but it didn't happen
but it didn't happen, now life is on verge
that i don't have you nor sorrow neither hopes
living life without any support hand
no road, no goal, nor way to see light
my life is travelling in darkness
i'm to be lost in darkness someday
i know it's my love of life, but
often this thought comes in my heart..........................................

Dhimant Negandhi 10th March 2005

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

This poem is for those people who realize the value of others only when they are gone ,Some times it may be too late to hold them .So when they are near ,let them know how much you love them and hold them tight and never let them go.

The Broken Window

Midnight comes again,
And I am done with my daily chores,
Now its time to sit by the window,
After I have closed all the doors.

The window has panes of glass,
And I can see the stars through it,
But I am looking for some one, who is special and far,
Who had promised me when she is gone, she would become a star.

Then I turn my eyes to the window,
It has glass, but broken in a weird shape;
In the day I forget about the window,
Because it is covered with a beautiful drape.

Now I peep through the window,
And there I find her shining bright,
She’s as beautiful as she ever was,
And she is the one who is sparkling the night.

How I love you and how I miss you?
Was it only trouble or was it some fear?
Or did you have no reason to cheer?
Why did you not tell me O DEAR?

I sat by the coffin and I cried a lot
People called you weak and they called you a coward.
But I know you had something to say.
I won’t believe, you jumped on your own, Nay.

Today sometimes I sit by your grave,
With a tear in my eye and a broken heart.
But to the grave I carry no flowers,
I carry only pieces of glass and pieces of heart....

Dhimrock--4th March 2006

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Hi people thought would write something on the eve of Valentines day.This is in no manner related to my life and I am so happy it is not but while writing this just realised how worse a valentines day could be for a person.And I would really be sorry if it turns out to be someone's true life story.

All characters used in the article are purely a fictional creation and in no way bear any resemblance to any living or dead person.Hope you enjoy it.
Dhimant Negandhi.

Dire straits.

I have always thought of joining a political party,not for power not for money and not for publicity at least.Power not because I am not sure if I can handle too much power.Money not because I am sure I cannot handle too much money and I would end up buying some fancy good for nothing Japanese electronic gadgets that only I can appreciate.
And not for publicity at least as one of the things I fear most in my life is facing the camera.....

So the question arises why join a political party then If I don't want to for the reasons that most politicians do ????

I started short listing my list of political parties and I was left with only one party,and that was the Jeev Lena party because this was the only party that satisfied my whole and sole requirement of joining a political party.

My mission: Stopping Valentine day celebrations.
This missions exists from the date: 14Th February 2004.
Apparent reasons: They will follow soon.

Now here don't get me wrong,I am not someone who does not like love and all the mushy stuff.I am a peace loving guy and I demand some attention and love too.But as Mr..Amitabh Bachan says Afsos.......Now forget the past..No wait a minute.The past is not so easily forgotten.I will soon join the Jeev Lena party and start my morchas against the cupid lovers frightening and threatening every lover on the streets of Mumbai...And when some crappy news channel desperately in need of some publicity stunts will come to ask me why I am doing all this??
My straight forward answer: "Please make love in your house, not on roads,It is a western concept.We will not let the west influence our tradition" and what not....I am so happy no one except you people will ever know the real reason and that is not finding a valentine partner for the last 24 years of my existence.
I am glad people don't remember dead people by who loved them or else I would have been total lost chapter of the history....
Person 1:Who Mr..X ??
Person 2:Arre Mr..X.
Person1:...Oh!!! Mr.. X.Cant remember his face.Heard that name.
Person 2:Mr. X.The one who was loved by..Hmm..hmmm.. hmm
Person1: Forget it there is no Mr..X.

(Name Mr..X because I cant reveal my identity here).The reason is not that I feel insulted(not that I don't) but because I don't want all the pity in this world from you after reading this article.

Lady friends say:"Hey don't worry,you will get a valentine next year"
I wish to say:"Hey Lady,If you are feeling so sorry why don't you be my valentine.Why wait for one more year? "
She would say "I already have a valentine".
And I want to shout and say "Who in this world ever made this rule that you cannot have more than one valentine".Why cant she simply say that I am too ugly to be her valentine???

My male friends say:"Hey Its nice that you don't have a valentine.Its too much of a pain"
I wish to say:"Hey why don't you just rest at home like me on Valentines day and let me enjoy with her and here the question being ugly does not arise because If she can select my friend as her valentine she can surely select me as her valentine.

Now I distinctly remember my closest shave of getting a valentine company.It was third year of Degree college(14th Feb 2003).It was Valentines day for the 21st time in my life.Some unlucky girl of my college walked out to me and wished me Happy Valentines Day.I reciprocated.My dumb witted friends convinced me that she must definitely love me to say that.With those ransacked brain ideas of my friends,I went ahead and asked her If I could take her to coffee and she replied "I already have a valentine".Now I was first cursing the day and then my friends.Cursing the day and its rules because why do people wish HAPPY VALENTINES DAY when they do not want to be my valentine??.This is the first thing on my agenda after joining Jeev Lena.One who wishes the other a valentines day has to voluntarily act as a valentine if required.

And With friends like these who needs enemies ??

Then again on 14th February 2004,I decided I would make my last attempt to get a Valentine.I short listed three girls whom I could try and convince to go out with me on the golden day.And to make sure I got the valentine this time round.
My criteria for selecting the girl were:

1. THE GIRL SHOULD BE UGLY.( This my friend is necessary.If you think otherwise,you should see me once at least !)

2. SHE SHOULD NOT HAVE ANOTHER VALENTINE.(I don't mind if she has as long as she comes out with me)

3.SHE SHOULD NOT BE BORING (The day would get too boring if there would be two boring people.Me is just enough)

Hey God did I ask for too much??
I decided to buy three gifts for each of them and just to make sure I make it this time,I decided to buy jewellery.What good planning.Sometimes I am proud of myself...

Now I decided to walk to my friends jewellery shop and buy 3 rings or something.As soon as I entered his shop,There was a van of journalsits from STAR NEWS having some special coverage on Valentines day.My friend feared his existence customers would not say all the good things about his shop.So he made me the customer adn those journalists took my interveiw where I had to say things like "Jewellery is beautiful just like my valentine and I dont mind spending so much for her as she is so beloved to me".

After finishing the testament,I walked selected the cheapest jewellery available walked out to college just to realise to my horror everybody had seen me on STAR NEWS.First I felt happy for getting free publicity but then I realised the 3 girls must have seen it and now they think I am a lucky guy with a valentine for the day.I simply decided not to try any stunts and mad my mom happy by giving her those gifts.

The resolution to join Jeev Lena was the strongest that day.I always used to wonder why would somebody oppose Valentine day celebrations like the Jeev Lena party does.But I think now I have my answer.

They are just some unfortunate people with some unfortunate luck who have spent more than half of their lives finding valentine partners but to no avail.My sympathy with them and with myself.I am waiting outside the party head quarters.There are 2 minutes left before I sign the party papers and change my ideologies.I am still looking out for a valentine !!!!!

Dhimrock-14th Feb2006

Happy Valentines Day