The Divine Intervention

The right eyebrow had peaked to its maximum arch possible. This only meant that his continued thinking on some response has reached its maximum iteration without any satisfying response being thought of. I had to intervene to prevent the possible self-destruction of his brain due to this failed computation. “So, what’s bothering you?” A rhetorical question just to test the waters and shake him out of his thought reverie. The reply was both laughable and intriguing.

 “Do you think it’s unfaithful to put a Rs10 note into the donation box? I really think putting a $5 bill is a little too much, which is almost Rs250 and I have never put that much into a temples donation box” A temple bell rang right at the moment he finished speaking which he considered to be a divine intervention which in its own way showed its acceptance of his judgment. With a smile on his face, he stuffed in that 10 rupees note and double checked if it had gone in completely, prayed again and we left the temple premise.

The questions that I should have had asked were why are you carrying around a Rs10 note? Why not a dollar or two instead? Why do we always have to convert to our local currency? Instead, I filled my pockets with the fruits being given out as offerings because apples a kg cost $6 and that would Rs300/kg.

Life of an immigrant is funny indeed and funnier of those who travel as a student.

Let’s move our focus onto something very common, a belief system that we usually follow. The way of acceptance, it could be, like in this case ringing of a random bell in the temple and thinking our wishes would come true, or light flicks on while you were saying something, and you be like I told you what I am saying is true, or the sound lizard makes which is widely accepted as a truth tester in every household in India. The moments of Divine Intervention.

At the heart of every justification that anyone provides there is a need for acceptance. Like strength in numbers, we believe in something to be true when it is widely accepted. While you are at it making your own decisions or giving out your opinions, we subconsciously seek these intuitive truth meters. Does that mean we are insecure when we are speaking our minds? Or is it just that we are the byproducts of a long line of a superstitious belief system which was deeply rooted in the Indian way of life.

The closing argument would be Is it wrong to have such a belief system? Absolutely not! If there a few little things in your life which make you feel confident or a few moments of divine interventions which bring in a sense of clarity, then why not believe in it. Superstition or not, let it not cloud your common sense and reorient your moral compass. So, keep believing in those tings, trings or tooktooks. 

Divine intervention or not, we are more intuitive and gut-feeling fueled social animals indeed.

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Coffee cup Marathon

Early morning, right after the break of dawn, the participants gear up for an unofficial marathon, of sorts. The rules are a little blurry and lies in that limbo of unawareness. Frankly, even the participants are not aware that they are in one. A marathon with no registrations, start and finish lines are imaginary, winners unannounced and unlike the conventional sport, the losers, if there are any, have no stress to make a comeback in this marathon.  The only criteria to be part of this is that you need make a cuppa or buy one from the nearest café. Coffee is the acceptable one, but since the rules are not concrete, tea or coffee with a nip of alcohol; yay yay yay mate, is allowed too. This concoction is called as the brain fuel.

Referring to the dictionary of Dungford’s utter gibberish Brain Fuel noun Definition of brain fuel A slang used for any drink that stimulates brain performance and enables the drinker to tolerate early morning irritation and bullshit coming your way. I need a dose of brain fuel to read this blog.

So now that I have established the ground rules, let’s move on from guessing what kind of a marathon this is to Ahh! I know what this is about, the epiphany or wait? is that brain juice kicking in?

In a lot of ways, this event is common in the western countries because in India we have a morning routine. Which is, waking up from the right side of the bed, brush, paste, scrub. Followed by the process of taking a dump which is subjective, and the timing is subjective to what was eaten the night before. Followed by the Curry dad being served with coffee with his morning paper, leg promptly put over the other and brain processing new ways to discipline his kids while soaking in the current events. So plainly put, this event does not take place in India and our infamous neighbors.

This is something that happens more like a mandate. Every morning I see the regular flock of early risers, running to catch their commute to workplace or simply hanging that hangover from last night’s spree. Get a cup of brain fuel and get on with the morning routine. It is a disciplined morning routine being followed. Which in its subtle way shows to the onlookers that I have a busy day and I need my brain in the best of its working capabilities. Or plainly put, we need our morning coffee?

Incidentally, Covid-19 has put a speed bump to this marathon and doing what it does best, socially distancing us and making us all indoors-sy. With people working from home, favorites café’s closed due to lockdowns or functioning intermittently and no one on the streets to look-at you running around with a cup of coffee. Support these cafes that supported your mornings, go for a small walk, pick the regular and walk back home to begin your work. Support and help are all we need during these uncertain times and also proper hygiene.

So, go out there, kickstart the marathon again, with all the necessary COVID-19 guidelines exercised. Grab a cuppa with a mate and let’s brace for normality to be back.

Where’s my Manual?

After staring at a blank sheet of a virtual Word, yet empty, paper for almost 15 minutes straight something struck at the ever-interacting nerve junctions and there you go a blog post after a very long break.

In one of my classes for this semester, one of my lecturers, trying to avoid names because I don’t want to get into the mundane routine job of APA styled referencing or citations for the names or works taken to validate *Phew! * smiling his cocky smile, speaks to the class “Any product or an Item coming with a manual means that they failed at designing it well”. To elaborate what he meant, not mansplaining mind you, we are in that generation where it’s easy for a toddler to learn how to operate a mobile phone or an iPad where that toddler did not even read a manual, to begin with. Our brains are re-learning and creating neural networks due to the process of trial and error that we practically do not need a manual to pick a few things up.

On the contrary, I had to attend a First aid certification workshop mandatorily for one of the part-time jobs that I have been doing and there every bandaging technique, epinephrine usage comes with a manual and a direction to use. Does it contradict to what my professor told? Am I enrolled in a wrong uni? Is it too late to pull out? *Wink* Oh! Those sinking in feelings that I had for a fraction of second.

Sensibility took over the insecurity drive and my brain started to marinate in its own wisdom. The requirement of a manual is directly proportional to the severity of the action. When someone is undergoing a severe allergic reaction (Anaphylactic shock) and without a proper manual to know which end of the epinephrine pen to be pricked into the patient the response would go in vain even if they had all the necessary tools to counter the emergency.

Do you need a manual to use a knife? Do you need a manual to adjust the time of your clock? Do you need a manual to make someone laugh, cry or make them feel good? We learn things over time. Experiences make us who we are with a manual or not.

Am I stating something obvious? Might be, but the realities of our beliefs, from the perspective of my professor and first aid tutor are two sides of the same coin.

But, unfortunately, we don’t have a by-the-book procedure or a manual to love someone, to be liked, hated, tolerated and for many other emotions. They all are intrinsic and circumstantial and can change or become severe over time. As Jack Gilbert writes in his poem ‘Tear it Down’ that “We must unlearn the constellations to see the stars” we must try and do things beyond the constraints of a manual or a code. Not a deviation in a harmful way, but a healthy update to it.

So, my fellow manual-seekers go out there and rough it up a bit. Do what you haven’t done yet, be mindful while you are at it. Because common sense is also the best manual that we have got and does not cost you anything to think.

The Virata Parva

Ok!

So, there is no denying that the monsoon that was promised has failed miserably to shower in this part of the Eastern hemisphere, India. But, the rains in few parts of northern hemisphere brought down the momentum of the World cup that was promised. Now that both the promises of a monsoon and the world cup coming to India has been shattered and delayed for a month and 4 years respectively the citizens of India are smart enough to think of alternates to materialize those promises.

Unfortunately, The promise of a world cup win and the best of well-deserved farewells for Captain Cool do not have an alternate solution which could be less painful and heart wrenching. We have to suffer through this both as a team and as a country and come out strong.

Moving on to another promise that seems to have eluded us but the forecasts have confirmed the onset of rains in the days to come. Few areas getting quite some showers here and there have given some hopes for all. But, in the meantime, people have carried out many arduous tasks to attract monsoon clouds and commit them to shower in their region.

Few instances of those induced attractions for clouds could be getting two frogs married which was carried out in the Udupi region. Let me tell you this was a fully fledged Indian wedding of two lucky frogs that promised each other to hope around for all eternity come rain or not!

Few of the tribal community believe in taking out a funeral procession of a living person to please the gods of rain. The rationale behind this could be to make the Gods associated for rains laugh their ass off and summon rains to wash away our foolhardiness.

Likewise, as a matter of happenstance, a proposition was made by one of the well-revered personality to carry out a harikatha program which has the power to invoke rains in my locality. Harikatha translates to the Story of the Lord. It is a form of Hindu traditional discourse in which the storyteller explores a traditional theme, usually the life of a saint or a story from an Indian epic. The person telling the story through songs, music and narration is called a Haridasa. The epic selected was Mahabharata.

So, the particular story arc which has few incantations in it which has the power to invoke rains was the Virata Parva, Book of Virata, which is the fourth part of an 18 part saga. While all this planning was happening in our locality on a distant continent our captain Virat Kohli was writing his own saga on the pitches of England. A small world indeed.   

A suitable date was set for the Harikatha program and the optimistic and god believing part of the crowd brought with them umbrellas because they were confident that it would rain and the rest of the crowd came just for the story and curiosity regarding the outcome of this venture. While all this progressed I and my cousin sneaked out onto our own venture to eat the chats which I missed dearly from past one year.

While we were hogging on a variety of chats, all in by two’s because the diet is also important *Tongue in the cheek*, something miraculous happened. It started to rain!! Nothing is clear yet as to whether it rained due to the reading session of Virata Parva or the marathon of chat munching that we went on. If the former happens to be true then no wonder the epics written by the great saints are relics from a time of mysticism and supernatural happenings. If the latter is the reason then I would love to make it a ritual to go out on chat shop hopping and hogging on food to invoke rains.

You may consider this anecdote as a coincidence, a butterfly effect or just that the collective belief system paves the way to miracles. What has happened was quite intriguing for sure. But, the take home of this article would be to be more considerate about the environmental crisis that we all are going through. We are not worrying much about the degradation of the environment due to many factors about which I don’t have to point out as it is well established by now. But, the actions that we are taking as a society is negligible and to some extent neglected as well.

As an aftermath, people have strong confidence in the incantation of this Virata Parva more than a scarred nature who needs some help from our end as well to heal herself and continue to prosper and allow this civilization to sustain. We should be concentrating more on the necessary actions to be taken to prevent the inevitable crisis so that we can ignore and avoid some funnier ways to please the gods of rain.

Satish Bapat 

 

Insert Title Here

For the past few weeks I have been on a word rage, race against time.

Only reason being it was the sem end and I had a ton load of Reflective Summaries, group project report ranging from 2000-3000 words of sensible content due for submissions. With that being done, for the sake of sobering up I will use the momentum that was built to write a blog, if not of similar magnitude but a decent one for sure. So, let’s jump right at it.

We believe that time passes, but we don’t understand that time works in a circle, like a clockwork. It always comes back but the things around us would have changed so much that we think this time it’s a new thing. #NewDayNewMe!

Of anonymity and secrets
There was a time when we had a concept of Pen pals. To those who don’t know much about it a little intro for you. The concept is very simple, you write letters to random person around the world. Pen pals have a bio which tells about their interests and if you have a similar interest connection then right them a letter and post it to an address which routes it your pen pal. Wait for their reply and there you go, you have made a friend from some part of the world or someone from your neighborhood.  You both know only  what you share with each other. Nothing more, nothing less. There are cases where the names were fake but still you would have someone to share things. Fast forwarding to now, we try to maintain anonymity on the internet.

Metadata are the tracks that we try to cover and going incognito is faster than the blink of an eye. Yet, we do find some profile on some social media and try to hit it out with them. Angel Priya or not.
The only reason being that we like to be anonymous, not be judged and rant about things that we cannot do much being seen.

We are a social animal, we need our peers’ approvals, we want to be in a group and we do have outliers.
If we try to find a pattern between pen pals and social media anonymity and all other ways which cloaks you with a sense of false identity have all at their heart have a sense to be not judged. Did the times change? Or have we just found new methods to interact anonymously to share our darkest secrets?

Let’s deconstruct this issue and I would want you all to think with me on this.
These days we have all sorts of rants and discussions on the topics of freedom of speech, freedom of expression. But, are we asking the right questions to begin with? Are we asking any question at all?
All we need is a platform to share our thoughts. All those honest, disgusting, creepy or psychotic ones. The one that fall in the acceptable spectrum pops up on the social media with no intentions of going anonymous, but those thoughts which fall in the I will be judged spectrum of it will be written or shared anonymously to an anonymous person through a platform which grants you that anonymity. So, the real fight, if we are truly concerned should be for Freedom to Listen.
And some find a best listener in their best friend, boy/girlfriend, brother/sister, mom/dad, husband/wife, counselor or in a IamReal fake account. Let me know if I am making sense here. One more question being where should the listeners go to share?

To self-growth or grow as a team?
I know love is not the cure for everything. Which is a hard truth. It makes you feel warm, complete and sensible but it might not be the only thing that matters. One of the songs by the band The Eagles, Love will keep us alive has been my all-time favorite and I believed every word of it during all the summers of teenage. I do am a hopeless romantic and all, will continue to be, but let’s address some things first.

By picking few days from the timelines of 80s, 90s or beyond the emphasis could be found more on personal growth, personal gratification and many self-centric attitudes and we do have those attitudes being persistent in our time as well. There is nothing wrong in that at all.
With the advancements in the fields on internet, connectivity and other accessory domains it’s easy for us to learn from others, share our experiences. We have surpassed the legacy that only teachers can impart knowledge and wisdom onto students. Wikipedia can concise it for me and Grammarly can correct my mistakes.

So, for us the holistic approach should be in helping my fellow friends in achieving their goals, working together like a team, learning, developing and teaching aswell. Because we are so closely knit together that its difficult to ignore and move past things of solid realizations. I might turn out to be a hypocrite for a few because I have done everything the exact opposite to what I said above. Realizations rewrite you and here I am a little rewritten.

So, as a food for thought are the two essential problems laid out in front of you all. And I would love it if you could think on this with me with your own perspectives and let’s implement little by little of our learnings. Start small with a few friends and try to expand on it in the days to come.

I have become so accustomed to taking a sneak peek into the word counter that I feel a sense of completion as I hit the 1k mark and feel so relieved that I don’t have to give a citation to anything that I have written or reference it as per the Howard standards.

Now that a wave of submissions and word finding is done and survived I can relax for a few days before the exam wave hits us all.

Satish Bapat

 

 

Silence of Three Parts!

The silence spoke the loudest.

Was it an awkward silence? Or the calm that forms before a storm. The taboo was spoken and the tear that it brought to a perfect reality screamed a silent scream in the hall of a conservative Indian family. I am gay! The echo of this uttered confession still resonated and became part of the silence that hung around. Dad stormed out of the room trying to run away from the truth and expecting it to unexist it self once he renters the hall. The silent gasp made by mother tried to replace the silence that haunted but the silence strong armed it into nothingness. Beating heart of the son before he came clean about it could have been heard but the heart stopped its pounding once the truth was uttered, like it realized it is easy to accept rather than hide it.

If silence could see, then it could have seen how slowly, with some confusion of its own, mothers hands travelled to hold the hand of his son who came out. The hollow silence that made its presence known was filled with the footsteps of the father who walked into the room again. His voice banished the echoing quite with words of concern. This is new to me and frankly I am confused and do not know how to react to this. I am angry, scared and worried all at the same time. But, I promise you that I will support this decision of yours. If you want to live a queer lifestyle then you must be strong. Strong to face the criticisms and we must be strong enough to come to an acceptance. Give me some time, that’s all I ask for now.
This was the silence of three parts, of acceptance, realization and of being uncertain.
The result was out and the reading showed positive. Third time’s the charm they say but the result did not change. The silence the pregnancy test kit oozed was scary. The two lovers were shocked and the uncertainty boomed and became part of a silence that haunted. They had been careful all the time but somehow the unexpected had materialized into a reality. For the boy the silence felt like all the responsibility that he has to take for which he was surely not ready. For the girl the words betrayed and emotions fogged her mind. In the silence she found her calm and she knew this calm will turn into a violent storm sooner. Should she be happy, or should she be scared for the gift that she received from a purely no strings attached relationship. She expected the silence to rub away the result and turn it into a negative. But, silence is not a magician it is just a canvas that reflects our actions. The silence of three parts was a decoction of responsibility not ready enough to be taken and of what happens next.

 

The silence that follows can at times slow down time itself. What seems like a second feels like an eternity. When in the act of going down on your knees to make a proposition it feels like the knees are taking longer than they should to reach the ground. The silence watches this act with a smirk on its face. The sound of the ring box opening is sucked in by the silence, the words spoken out is somehow choked and dies in the throat. Was it the silence that did it to protect its existence? The reaction from the partner, irrespective of a yes or a no feels like the silence has clogged your ears making your senses betray you. But, the silence cannot be held back for too long. The scream of yes shatters the silence, for a little while at least. While the lovers embrace the silence reappears and wraps them in its warmth. The silence of three parts exists as a thin line of difference between heartbreak or acceptance.

The silence might be awkward at times. Inevitable at times and irritating too. But, silence exists nonetheless. Reach out to the silence and make the clarity clearer. Because silence follows before any big decision is to be made. That is the silence of three parts.

 

Satish Bapat

 

 

The Photopigment Confusion

Birthday gift was yet to be opened. She was saving the best for the last.
Packed neatly with the most colorful of gift wraps. Picked it and gave it a shake to attempt at a guess on what the gift might be. In vain and still clueless she continued to rip through it to know what it holds. There was a letter in it stapled onto the bubble wrap of a beautiful dress. Read the letter, opened the dress, hurriedly ran into the washroom to try it on. Walked out, opened the front camera and took a good photo and sent it to her boyfriend with the message.

Loved the not soo close to red dress that I wanted! Thanks for this.

To which a quick reply was received.

Thank God you loved it Babe! I am happy that I told you about my issue with colors. Hope you don’t mind.

Ha ha! That’s alright. You know how much you mean to me.

No! seriously, I know you wanted someone who had a great sense of fashion. Someone who knows about style and the colour combination and all but I don’t step up to that criteria for SURE!

Listen babe! I know it’s true that I had imagined my partner to be someone who is stylish and all that crap that I tell you about but there is a difference in dreaming about something and being happy with what I have. Now I know that you are color blind and all that but that does not make you any less desirable. You see all the colours of my emotions, even the blue ones. You have the cure to my Monday blues even though you have no idea how the color blue looks like. You make me laugh and turn my cheeks into a rosy red. I am not disappointed that you cannot see my cheeks turning red, I am happy that you make me laugh. YOU MAKE ME FEEL GOOD and that’s all matters to me.

WOWW!  Stop writing essays now. The keyboard will catch fire by the speed of your typing. Don’t forget to breathe while you are typing.

NO! let me get this straight. You don’t have to feel insecure for some things that are not in your control. Pick me up soon for dinner you color blind Romeo.

HA HA! Your wish is my command.

So, how do you know when to stop when it’s a red signal? Do you still drive thinking its green? 😛

I stop when everyone stops 😛 Just kidding, I definitely know the order of colors on the traffic signal with green being at the center. STOP MAKING FUN OF ME.

How did you even pass the driving test? You color blind.

Typing…

Typing..

Typing..

The texting continued. Color blind or not, he could see what love felt like. A warmth in the heart and a sweet music to the soul…

 

Satish Bapat

The Firm Handshake

Have you ever got your hands shook to such an extent that you feel that the bones in your hand will break at any instant? Or have been victimizing the person at the other end of that handshake just for a masculine power exhibit than a formal greeting?

Firstly, no one gives you the right to crush the life out of someone else hand when you meet them for the first time.

Secondly, we live in those times where we believe in making a good first impression. In a corporate world a fine formal wear and firm handshake gets evaluated before the interview begins. Trust me, it’s true.

Thirdly, this reason right here I believe is why Indians join hands and say Namaste. Because we might have been the victims of an English brutes hand shake as well along with the other atrocities.

It pisses me off when my hands get squeezed in the name of introduction. I know it is important to show the world that you are strong but it is definitely not through a pain-in-the-hand squeeze.

I am not being a judgmental, hand-shake critic but I think most of them who indulge in the manly man hand shake have no clue as to why they do it. I am man and hell ya my handshake should be pain inducing!  That is how it is I believe, they have no clue as to why they do it and trust me the ignorance is not their fault. This is the kind of world we live in nowadays. We just know it has to be done this way, but no one wants to know why we do it that way. No one questions, but blindly follows the masses.

Just like one thing leads to another, should women be indulging in a firm pain inducing handshakes? Do the feminists have a hand shake that competes with manly man way of handshake?

So here are a few pointers to detect a painful handshake and how to counter it:

* While you are In the process of extending your hand to greet someone, make a quick eye contact and in those eyes lies the answer to how badly your hands are going to get squeezed and then make a split second decision as to how much pressure you will put into this handshake.

* If the person has a little more than the usual number of rings on his hand then trust me he is a firm handshake(r) because that will be his subconscious mind trying to get your attention on the amount of jewellery on his hands.

* Apart from showing off a popping out biceps a gym person will definitely have a pain inducing hand shake. Because how else will he show that he works out and is strong. Da!

Grip long, grip hard is what every hand shake analyst tells. Yes, there are hand shake analyst as well. Basically, they are psychologist who study handshakes and in turn deduce the personality.

Don’t get me wrong here, first impression do matter but not at the cost of others pain. Have a firm handshake but practice as to how much pressure that needs to be put into it. So, don’t be a bone crusher but be a firm hand shaker and shake responsibly *Wink*

Satish Bapat

Playlist of Nostalgia

We feel alive because of all the senses that we are equipped with. We feel more alive due to the sensory excitements the environment of which we are part of has to offer. Like finding a familiar face in huge crowd. Hearing the voice of your loved ones as they enter the house. A text message tone that buzzes or the salary credit message at the end of the month and many other instances. The senses are heightened during all these little things. One thing without another is like living in a shell, vacuum. That’s life in a nutshell. Being deprived of any one of the prime senses that we have evolved in us does not delimit us to enjoy our intangible connection with the biomass around. The disabilities might make one’s life a little difficult when compared to any healthy fellow human being but we have work around for every problem. Because, living is for everyday and death is inevitable. Period.

Now that I have established a serious, of sorts, prologue to what I have to share the tone of what continues next will be more casual and less intense.

*Sprays anti-intense spray*

Okies!

I got into a virtual world adventure. A digital expedition for which I did not have to trek new mountains, swim oceans or battle dangerous monsters. Just had to overcome a few network issues and mobile battery draining out. The present generation problems. The task was, making a playlist of nostalgia.

Let me explain.
*Sips on a coffee to make the scene a little intense*

We all would have been exposed to music at a very young age in the form of lullaby. At the beginning we start off listening to our parents, elder siblings or grandparents choice of music. That being the starting point and from there we head out to listen to our choice of music. We form a taste or liking to a particular form of music. Apparently, as we grow up our choice changes and we remake the taste buds into liking a new genre of music. This is a never ending process.

At times out of nowhere you hear a song that you used like and that kicks in a nostalgic feeling, a sudden outburst of mixed emotions that make you think of that phase that you passed. This emotion lasts for a very small time, flaunts a glimpse and vanishes and we resume to live our current lifestyle. Nostalgia is indeed a gift.

So here I was making a playlist of all the songs that I had loved and heard on repeat at some point in my life. From the old hindi melodies to which we our exposed to by my mom, the telugu, tamil songs which my brother used to hear during his college days. Awesome metal songs \m/ to which I used to head bang during my engineering days. It was a great fun to revisit those songs and reflect on the times that have changed. The idea was how would it be to make a playlist of all these songs and play it on a shuffle. A rollercoaster of nostalgic feeling because music not only brings back old memories but it also reminds us about the people to which we might have associated it with. Few love songs might remind you of that person about whom you were head over heels at one point because you had associated it to them and as the time passes the associations changes but the emotion that the song had offered remains to be the same.

Nostalgia or not, with music or without there is a sense of fun in being in that phase. or the phase that you are currently in. You might be out there trying to make things work, look for a job, raise a family, travelling places, finding love, maintain the relationship, moving in, moving out and many other things that you might be struggling with. Enjoy the phase, learn from it and improve on it because we are never what we were before and we don’t know what we will be tomorrow. It’s all in this moment and trust me, everything will be just fine.

Here is the link to the playlist that I am in the process of building and you can tune in to it as well. Share with me your playlist, if you have one and tell me if you have any story behind a song because the more we share the more we know about each other and I would love to add it to my playlist.

This is a process that will not be stopped and if it does then know that I have been abducted by an alien race or that the earth has blown itself out.

https://itunes.apple.com/in/playlist/satishas-muse/pl.u-RRbV04Wu32KM97L

La vita è bella. Life is beautiful.

Satish Bapat

 

 

The Job hunt!

I have had a mid 20’s epiphany that writing about philosophy is an utter waste of time and one involved in writing could be deemed to be a boring person *Guilty*. So, the mid 20’s realization of mine is, don’t write about philosophy until you are either too successful or too damn rich or sitting in a bar with friends who are too drunk. As of now, I am an utter failure searching for an accidental find of a dollar or two from the jeans pant that I have put in laundry bag and a complete sober while I am doing this penny hunt.

So, let me stick to anecdotes and make your reading time a little less boring.

There was a time when I and my friend were desperately looking for part time jobs. Had been sitting for few interviews but was getting turned down because they needed a full time employee and my student visa permitted me to work only a stipulated time per week. But, after few rejections we had realized that let’s park our attempt for some white collar jobs and start looking for casual jobs. The main advantage of casual jobs are that you can choose your own shifts, to some extent, and earn money on a need basis. So, we started making a list of best casual jobs around Sydney. As we were making some list we realized that it would be great if we got into some hotel.

The advantages being:

• Good hourly pay.
• Best way to make connection
• We loved hospitality jobs
• The simple honest to GOD reason being that, working at a hotel lets you carry home lots of food for free. FREE! FREE!

It was that time of my stay that I had just started to cook and was a little lazy enough to cook three course meals. So, any invite for free food, free take away would never be missed. Don’t get me wrong, it was just a phase of leaving from your comfort zone and I had become a little too comfy in my comfort zone. Blame the Inertia, not me!

Jolted down the Indian restaurants around Uni and around our house as well. Prepared tailored resumes which truthfully lied that we had past experiences of working at restaurants back in India. Our common hotels of visits were added as the places of work with contacts of our friends from India as the managers of that hotel. We were so confident that we would be hired we had already given heads up to few references on the resume letting them know that if you receive any call for background check tell them I worked at his hotel and was a good performer. Is it still a lie if there is a good happening for another?  

While all this was cooking let me take a little detour. In our property where I stayed, there was another tenant staying. A pretty Indian or Afghani origin girl, ethnicity uncertain. *Blushu, Blushu, Blushu* Unfortunately, never got a chance to speak to her as I always met her either while I was leaving my apartment or while she was leaving the apartment. So, it was all just Hi’s and byes happening and I really did not want to give out a creep vibe to her. And if luck had a love child with opportunity it would be this. The Afghani or Indian origin girl happened to work at a Turkish restaurant, Erciyes Restaurant, which was right around the corner from my house and thought I can ask her for any vacancy at her hotel, which can turn into a conversation starter. That’s when my love for Falafels reached new bounds. Before anything could begin, she left our apartment. No, I DID NOT creep vibe her into  leaving the apartment.
This happened and I moved on, but the hunt for casual restaurant job was still being pursued.

Using the ancient art of Jugaad *Definition for those who don’t know the word* we concurred that since she has left the apartment there is a slight chance that she has quit her job, which means there is a vacancy. Right when this realization hit us I and my friend were standing in front of the hotel with our crafter Resumes. And if bad luck and worst timing had protected intercourse even then the swimmer reached the egg and the love child would be this. The girl, who had left, standing at the counter with that pretty smile and asking what would you like to order. And there I was with no planned reaction blurted out this with all the swag I can muster, “Actually, I and my friend here are organizing a party for 20 people, so is it possible to book for a table? And can I get some Vegetarian options as well.” To which she was like “That’s great, Yes! we do have party rooms available and also if you fix your party on Friday then we have evening special Belly Dance arranged. So would you like to make some down payment?” Thing is, I had just enough money to pay my bills, to which I was like “That’s great, I would like to check the menu and give you a call once I have confirmed the number of people and the menu” So took a Erciyes Restaurant visiting card and walked out of that place. Blame my inferior ego, not me!

The reaction from my friend was something that I have to sensor it out.

She was still working in that place the last time when I went to get a Falafel roll and we did continue our Hi and Bye’s conversation. I have a strong feeling it cannot proceed any further.

But, times have been good and I and my friend are doing really good with our new jobs now. So far so great 🙂

Little things like this makes best stories. Good luck to all those heading out trying something new and out of your comfort zone. Trust me, you will question your decision a few times when things are not working your way but it will all be worth it in the end.

Satish Bapat