Working at a MNC in the south, spares you of the most celebrated festivals, Diwali being one of them. I see packed trolleys being dragged on my street as I pass by, riding my bike in the somewhat chilly air of Bangalore. The trolleys leave behind some dust which seems like an adieu to this place as people prepare themselves for a Diwali weekend at home. I see a stream of Volvos lined up on the main road, taking the tiresome to their relaxed breaks. The atmosphere seems so excited yet so isolated.

Although the bike trip in the hindsight, it can hardly overshadow the joy of burning crackers at home with your peers. Life takes a monotonous route when you begin working and no exciting plan, whatsoever can hardly make up for the journey back home. I see my friends, all excited as they pack their bags, making a to-do list, planning to stay up all night for the flight in the wee hours of chilly city.

While they get to enjoy their weekend, I sit here writing Java codes and XML parsers trying to deploy an OVF file in some sort of Virtual Environment. How ironic life is, I occasionally wonder. Even the work screams virtual. The remotest feel of Diwali come by the sign in the office saying ‘No crackers allowed inside’. My friend jokingly says “As if there are enough already inside.” Though being a sexist joke, it lightens the mood. The company tries to make us feel good by giving host of sweets and chocolate packets. How meager they seem, I feel.

My brain reminds me that its my second consecutive Diwali away from home. I stop my random thoughts and try to focus on my computer screen, trying to console myself that I am still going to have that 500km bike trip and resume working. And while, the lucky ones enjoy their Diwali with crackers, I have to study for another Quiz tomorrow. Sigh!

Happy Diwali everyone! Have a safe Diwali. 🙂




How often do you stand in a corner and see it fly away,
It has made you laugh and cry all the same,
It showed you light when darkness made you pay,
Time has been there to let nothing go to vain.

How often have you wondered about the things that have changed,
Some faces some places, they are no longer the same,
So many people passing by and you stood there and waved,
For, time has kept the best ones in your life that came.

How often has the clocked turned with memories throwing you back thereby,
While you laugh and cheer, there were also memories when you used to cry,
The tears, be it sad or happy never matter for it were with one your closest,
And today it seems so distant, but they were beautiful, like a dozen roses.

You might have travelled miles till now and many a miles more to go,
But when you rest and lean on your back, these memories will again grow,
And then you will smile, even for a while, to leave the worry behind,
Because time is what makes you, without it, life’s a beautiful bell, ringing without its chime.

People, places will someday no longer matter when you keep on with your travel,
Keep up your journey with the memories in your backpack, as time makes more memories to unravel,
So while time permits you, make as many more memories as you can,
But don’t forget who you were, because this was where it all began.




(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)

If you can keep your head when all about you
    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
    But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
    And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
    And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
    To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
    If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

exwfyllo opy8 ready