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Aigis Nalian

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Aigis Nalian

Tag Archives: short story-snippets of daily life

Five Years in Accenture

03 Tuesday Jul 2012

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short story-snippets of daily life, snippets of daily life

Fickle is fate, when it decides to play with your fortunes…
Five is the number that went through my head yesterday when I realised that it had been that many years since I first stepped out into the big bad corporate world of IT…. With Accenture and it’s promise of delivering high performance; little did I know what trials and tribulations, what fun and what foolishness, and above all, what a great experience it would turn out to be for me…
And today, dare I look back and say I have achieved what I thought I would?

Fiduciary benefits aside,(or the lack thereof!) had often compelled me to choose the path I had, and I think it has been an enriching journey so far.
Two trips abroad, five projects, a multitude of colleagues who have all gone on to achieve a lot in life, some lucky,some not so lucky…
What have I learnt? It is that if I live today in search of an answer to a “what if” I might not see what I must today… The blessings I have today, are more than enough to compensate for what I may perceive as a shortcoming. I realise today, that life had handed me lemons many a time, however a marked aversion to citric acid and an inability to ride a wave and take a risk has led me to where I am today.

Tomorrow, what does it hold? Who knows?
What I know is this, the memories of the last five years will not fade that easily.
And a hearty congratulations to all those idiots who’ve stuck around in the same company for five years, for whatever reasons!!!
Here’s looking forward to the future…..

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The Coffee Table

04 Friday Nov 2011

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short story-snippets of daily life

It was a small wooden table but it held tremendous importance to the 4 people sitting around it.
Every day, they gathered around their hallowed table, steaming cups of coffee or tea in hand, and discussed the
world like there was no tomorrow. The table was their rock, upon which they laid the foundation of their friendship,
around which they talked, fought, joked and occasionally, stood upon to give a rousing dramatic speech or enacted scenes from
their favourite movie.
Today, they were fighting. It was over a silly topic, which movie to go to in the evening.
But still, words were being exchanged and the 4 were at the center of attention. It was after all a small cafeteria, and
there was only so much you could do or say without being noticed.
“I don’t like that actor, his hamming is worse than his stammering….” said Person A.
Tempers flared quickly on hearing this statement, Persons B and C were evidently big fans of the aforementioned actor.
“So what, it’s a superhit movie, isn’t it? We are going and thats it!” said C.
“What do you mean it’s a superhit movie? Have you even taken the trouble of reading the reviews? Two stars!! Why do you want
to spend all your good hard earned money on a two bit movie for a guy who can’t act?” came back A strongly.
“Then why did it become a super hit?” came back B even stronger.
“Because of idiots like you. Do what you want, I am not going to that movie. I can stand outside for three hours if you want….”, A
was now beginning to understand that he was fighting a losing battle.

Bang! Person D had just slammed the table with his huge ham-like fist. Cups of hot coffee went flying all across.

“No one is standing outside for three hours. No one is going for a movie. Guys, its our last day in this city, our last time together…
Is this how you want to end it?” said D, hoping to bring a bit of sentiment into the discussion.

Five minutes of discussion later, all apprehensions of a bad three hours put aside, it was finally decided that no one was going anywhere.
The movie would after all come on TV in a few days. Instead, they voted for a quiet dinner there followed by drinks outside.

“Gather around guys, one last photograph….There are so many memories of us here!” said B.

And so it was that the four gathered around their rock, their one steady thing in the years that went by.
They were software engineers, and for them their coffee table knew so much more about their minds and their lives. They thought that the dripping
coffee looked like the tears that the table had shed for them; for they were leaving, maybe never to return again…

A Night Out on the Terrace

23 Friday Sep 2011

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short story-snippets of daily life, snippets of daily life

The clock struck 2 AM. A blanket of oppressive silence was spread throughout the house, punctuated only by the intermittent snores of my dad, my granddad, and my uncle.

I lay there in silence, wondering and pondering over why my sleep took so long to come. Maybe it was stuck in traffic. Or maybe the noise had scared it away. In any case, I knew it wouldn’t come very soon.

It was the start of winter, and being in Mumbai, the cold was as alien to me as aliens are.

I slipped out of my room on the second floor of my bungalow, silently, making as much noise as the ants that crept up those walls. My destination was the terrace, and I stood outside the thick wooden paneled door to the terrace with a pillow, terribly nervous and excited at the adventure that I thought I was going on. I wasn’t allowed nightly jaunts anywhere, and being awake at 2 in the night was considered a grave sin punishable by… I gave up such depressing thoughts of punishment and crept on forward to look for the key to the giant Godrej lock that kept the terrace out of bounds. Luckily enough, I found it hanging on a nail on the terrace door. What luck!

It was only when I began to unlock it, that I realized the futility of the effort. The noise that the damn slide bolt made was enough to raise an army of dead. I cursed myself and my silly ideas and slid out the last part of the bolt quickly. Somehow, nobody woke up.The stentorious snores still carried on with all might and power.

Now, my house being as old and creaky as it was, creeping up the stairs to the terrace again made me jumpy at every step. I had no idea when I used these very stairs during the day that they made so much noise. I finally made it up there. It was only now that I realized that I had bought no beddings or bed sheets. Drat!

I decided to spend a few hours here in the company of the stars and return to the relative comfort of my room. I lay down with my pillow looking up at the dark blue sky.

It was a full moon that smiled back at me, chiding me for being so naughty…I looked around. Not so many stars. Hmm, why? I finally came to the conclusion that most of the stars were either shy or had called in sick because of all the polluted air.

A somewhat cool breeze was blowing in an easterly direction, and I slowly felt the calm of the night descend upon me like a comforting blanket. I had to make sure that I wouldn’t slip off to sleep and cause a heart attack below in the morning. I looked around the terrace. Everything looked so different in the night, the tiles on the terrace sparkled differently in the moonlight, the iron bars reflected it in strange ghostly ways with shadows playing across the floor in amusement.

I suddenly became aware of someone watching me with great interest. It was my cat, and she was regarding me in an imperious manner. She looked at me with disgust, how could I slip off like a night burglar in the middle of the night in her territory? That was her job!

She suddenly jumped down from her perch on the railing and giving me one final disapproving look, stalked off to the stairs, presumably to complain to my parents about my adventuring.

I on the other hand, took umbrage to this, and decided to stick around a bit more, just to spite her. Who was she to boss over me? I regret it to this day, and it has only taught me one thing, never disagree with the fact that pet cats rule over their owners and it is never the other way around.

Within five minutes, my dialogues with the moon and the stars were interrupted by the arrival of my entire family with expressions ranging from anger to amusement.

The cat, on its own initiative had woken up my mother who, like all mothers are, looked around for me to put the blame on. Not finding me, she came to the conclusion that I had finally come true on my promise to either run away, or spend a night on the terrace. They decided to follow the latter option first. I was lucky that there were no hockey sticks, or other assault weapons.

My adventure at an end, I was subjected to a barrage of choice abuse and lectures in the middle of the night. I have never ever tried such adventures since. I didn’t even speak to the cat for the next few days.

The cat, on the other hand, had taken up this golden opportunity to drink up all the milk that was kept in the kitchen….

In the US of A

14 Tuesday Sep 2010

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short story-snippets of daily life

Sometimes you write just out of a compulsion to write, sometimes there are a thousand words inside you just wanting to come out….
I have been in the US of A for more than a week now. I would think that this is kind of a pretty major milestone in my life, but it doesnt feel that way.
It feels much like everyday life, except for the food. With all due respect, the food here sucks bigtime!
I haven’t started cooking yet, but give me time and I can mess that up too with equal aplomb and talent.
Getting here was another big jhol.I hated the 25 hours of travelling, more than anything. Counting the hours,watching endless miles tick away on the monitor, and pretending to sleep,trying to fool my body into thinking things that are far from the truth…What a way to start off an important journey…
I didnt get the time to roam around in Schiphol airport, I had always wanted to look around when in Europe… still, there’s always next time.
There is so much I want to say, but somehow, I cant find the right words for what I am feeling. Maybe I am not supposed to say it out loud,maybe I am just supposed to feel that feeling, to experience it,to know it but not say it out loud.
Maybe, the right words will find me, some day.
Till then, these words will have to do.
Till then, au revoir!!

22 Thursday Jul 2010

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short story-snippets of daily life

A little bit of anxiety, some excitement, an adrenaline rush, the antsy feeling of a hundred millipedes marching up and down his spine to a funeral tune, and a hundred others doing the salsa and lambada together in his stomach, etc., etc.
These were some of the vivid descriptions he was trying to form in his mind to describe his current situation but he felt that he had failed in this mission miserably.

There was a time for monstrous words and unparalleled eloquence, but this was not it.
He felt that this would probably be a time for him to pray; but being an atheist, he found himself on a side of the fence that he did not really care to be on with regard to religious beliefs.

He looked out through the tiny plastic window and found the cotton clouds zooming by him, unaware of his predicament, or the effect they were having on him and his psyche.

If there was anything else that existed in that small steel gray cabin, it did not matter to him. What mattered was that small red light that did not turn green, despite all his best efforts at mentally willing it to change.

Telekinesis, it seemed was not made for him.

Wanting to break the hypnotic effect of the small red light, he looked around that cabin one more time and caught the eye of his best friend standing behind him; and immediately he wished that he hadn’t.

That languid grin, half jeering, half encouraging from a man who was accustomed to such vagaries of life did nothing to increase his confidence.
He gave a weak nod, and a watery soupy smile, the kind you give your dentist when you see the drill in his hand and you wish you were a few hundred longitudes eastwards.

He got a thumbs-up sign in return. “What bloody good is that?”, he thought.

And suddenly, without warning, within a few milliseconds, the atmosphere changed. Some sixth sense, or a highly improved sense of survival told him that the light was now green. He did not want to look, but he did. It was his death knell, he thought and rightly so.

The light was now a sickeningly lime green color, one that Halloween would be proud of.

Muscles tensed, knees together, he stepped out of the door into thin air and he was gone. Just another parachute jumper, making another jump again.

Only the guns, bombs and detonators strapped to his back told him he may never get the chance to fly again.

The war was still on and he was just another soldier…..

30 Wednesday Dec 2009

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short story-snippets of daily life

His hands froze as they reached the doorknob.His reluctance held him back,like a huge boulder tied to his back.Or maybe it was the weight of the bag slung over his shoulders,he couldn’t decide which. A few worldly possessions were in that bag,clothes,an ipod,shoes,a camera… And yet,he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was leaving behind something. He mouthed a silent goodbye to Rover,nipping playfully at his feet.
He took a glance at the digital clock on the wall in the dark-2 AM, it said. It was time.
He turned the doorknob as silently as he could. One more step and he would begin his journey.
“Wait!”, the words hit him with the force of an express train. “You forgot something”, said the voice at the bedroom door he knew since before he was born. He turned back slowly and looked her in the eyes,questioningly. She crossed the short distance between them in three steps and held out a hand,dropping something shiny and silver into his hands.
“These are the house keys. You can always come back…”.

“Goodbye”,he said and turned before she could see the tears. And he stepped forward into the darkness.
He knew he would come back some day,but for now,his future beckoned,and he had to go…

13 Tuesday Oct 2009

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short story-snippets of daily life

He stood on the ledge overlooking the breakers and looked at the sky above.
It was a beautiful evening made even more beautiful by the fact that it was the beginning of a new life for him…
He’d been struggling for the past 3 months with a lot of things in life. And today, all that was about to change.All that suffering was about to end forever.He closed his eyes, feeling the cool breeze whip at his face.
He smiled and opened his arms wide.He could almost feel the embrace of hope that he had been carrying with him all these days.
“My first song”, he thought. “All these years. All these years of hard work, and its finally here…”.
As a struggling singer, he’d spent so many sleepless nights on this very ledge.Speaking to the sea.Crying his heart out when he couldn’t take it anymore.
Today, his dream had come true.His first recording had just ended and the director’s words rumbled loudly in his ears,”Dude, you are gonna rock this nation…”.
He felt the temperature fall suddenly. The first drop of rain came rushing to his parched eyes. As he heard the faint strains of his song flow through his head, he finally felt free.This was it.His moment.

“Oye, kya kar rahai? baarish mein kyu khada hai?” asked the policeman with a mixture of suspicion that was hard to miss.
“Bheeg raha hu, sirji.” He said with a smile. “Main star banne ja raha hu. Pata nahi shayad baadme kabhi aisa mauka mile na mile…..”

08 Thursday Oct 2009

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short story-snippets of daily life

His heart was beating wildly out of control and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.
He had waited, 28 long years for this day. God, he thought, has kept me alive just for this.

His forehead was burning hot, feverish with excitement. His eyes were unblinking, focussed and completely attuned to his target.
He had the feeling that there were a hundred horses in his stomach,racing for their life and he had the strangest feeling that he was enjoying it all the same.Muscles tensed, bunched,knotted and stretched,like bands of steel,he knew this couldn’t go on for long. In a few moments, he knew it would all end.

He was a qualified doctor, and a good one. But today, all that had been forgotten.The hundreds of people awaiting him at the clinic would have to wait another day for him.This was far too important for such trivial matters as life and death.

And slowly, as the moment neared, he could feel the rest of his senses slipping away, oozing slowly from his body as only his sight remained.
He realised he was holding his breath. The man on the screen in from of him finally stepped forward and hit the ball out of the ground off the final ball.A SIX!!!
This was it!! India had won the World Cup!!!
He let his breath whoosh out of him.And he screamed.And screamed.

“Wake up Sid!!! what the hell is the matter with you??” he heard.

And he blinked.Suddenly, the colors changed.He was blinking furiously at his bedroom ceiling.
“Whew!!!” he said out loud.
“Mom, don’t worry. It was just a dream.A dream that may never come true…..”

Laughter club

07 Wednesday Oct 2009

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short story-snippets of daily life

There were gaping holes on both sides of him. There was also something about that emptiness that haunted him too badly to want to continue with his daily routine.
Mr Singh and Mr Malhotra.Both victims of age.And disease.And he knew it was not long before he too would walk the same path.
And yet, today here he was, at the foot of his building, laughing his guts out.Loudly.
“Fantasy Laughter club”
, he thought. “What a name! Fantastic.All I need is a pin and a name tag.”

He looked around with quiet amusement.A pot-bellied gujju fellow he barely knew,who had just joined the club a few days back was laughing out the loudest.A few ladies trying hard to match the volume with their shrill laughter, but only managing to add to the general cacophony.
A hundred windows opened out to them, each cursing the club for the club’s early morning incursion into their precious hours of sleep.And a few kids rushing around,on cycles, on skates, on rubber shoes,each pushed by an inner need to….
To what exactly?He didn’t know.But he wished he did.

“Mr Purushottam, what’s the matter? Why aren’t you laughing?”
asked the young man at the head of the group.
“I’m not happy”, came the reply.And it surprised him.He didn’t know he was capable of such lucidity. “None of us are.We only laugh because it beats stress.”

And finally, it hit him. His laughter had now become part of his daily monotony.

Ye Old Memories

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