Getting back to my 1st love - writing.

I recently came across this. A customer care executive saying about the saddest call he had to face:

The saddest call of my life was when a women kept referring back to this obscure manual while I was trying to troubleshoot her network. She seemed to be getting some useful information out of it so I asked where it came from and if a tech had written it for her? She says this:

My husband found out he had cancer and had 8 months to live so one of the things he did for me during those 8 months is write a super manual about all of the tech in the house. It's a huge binder that has everything I need to tell another tech after he's gone to maintain my home theater, computers, network appliances, utilities, etc.. He was a programmer before he passed away. He wrote troubleshooting guides for the top 10 things he thought could go wrong and I have had to use this book quite a bit. This is the first time I have had to call someone else. I have a special page for this and he said to please not change the subnet, groups or dhcp range as it may cause a lot of other things to stop working. Whatever that means?

Her words expressed not just her loneliness, but also a feel of pride about the book, a sorrow that she has to use the book, an innocense marked by how she missed her husband and how she valued his care for her.

A customer care executive telling about the one particular phone call that he will never forget:

The saddest call I ever had was from a old woman in West Virginia who insisted that her fence was trying to kill her and they only thing that would save her is putting a password on her wifi. I attempted to get her to the modem's firmware but she said she has never had a computer. I asked if she had any other wireless devices and she said no. Turns out her modem was hanging from the window by a telephone cord..... not plugged in or anything. I told her there wasnt anything i could do and she started crying saying that today she would be killed by the fence.

If you are wondering, dementia, it is. A form of cruelty that the adolescents never get exposed. For a particular person, some friends do not understand him. Friends ignore him. Negligence by others has become a way of life for him. But for her, she has reached a stage where her friends and loved ones can do nothing to let her know that they care. TOO LATE.

What irks me is this particular call, made by an market-researcher, to an elderly woman:

I worked as a "market researcher" aka conductor of phone surveys (I know, ftw) for a while and the saddest call I ever made was to a very elderly lady. I did my whole routine, asking if she wants to participate in a survey and all that, and she responded, voice slow and shaky,"I'm terribly sorry, but I'd rather not do this right now. I fell down yesterday and my arm is broken in three places, and I'm in horrible pain."

So, I broke from the script and simply said, "I totally understand, and I'm so sorry to hear that. I wish you a speedy recovery and hope you feel better very soon."

She then said to me (and here's the kicker), clearly on the verge of tears, "Well, thank you very much. It's nice to know that at least one person cares about me."  

The last thing I heard was a brief second of heavy sobbing before she hung up. It's been almost four years now, and I don't think I'll ever forget that call.

Have we become so narrow-minded? Talking about charity, boasting about your one-time good deeds, spreading what's already spread across the www is not mankind's need of the hour. Man's kind of truthfulness is mankind.

Do not ignore people; they probably just want to talk.

I'm sure, if dementia struck adolescents, we won't have as many young adults worrying about their boyfriend/girlfriend (sometimes in plural). Prioritize your life. Whether it hurts you or makes you happy, make the one's who ignore you happy. It's a fire burnt soul, but sweet enough.


- Booki


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All quotes are from real incidents (Un-edited). For more: http://www.reddit.com/r/fffffffuuuuuuuuuuuu/comments/mwx2o/its_always_the_good_ones/c34jn92 

Change that never did

Whether India or USA. Lots of differences, but one thing remains the same.

People ignore me for a reason am yet to understand.

What else is the same? The will to survive for the one aim.

Ignorance, insults, ... I cannot afford to give a damn about it. The path is trodden; thorns are inevitable; there's only one shoe, and that is you.

Yes, I am a pauper

... because I feed

First own car

Bought my first car. 2008 Toyota Matrix XR. Yes, a used car.

No I dont like sedans.

Yes I want to go out, skiiing, hiking, camping.

Yes, that's why the choice of this sub-CUV kind of vehicle.

.

.

.

Yes, am still listening to that song.

Blue sky

Looking back at myself, I must thank my friend Aiz (well, u know, linked is jus 1 of her several blogs) for constantly scolding me regarding my e-world and D for starting her blog which in a way reminded me of myself.

Its been a year of tough journey since I left home. A year ago, I wasted a lot of time, days, weeks, months, those 3 months,... but I was still being myself and worked on i-Bran.

Things aren't the same. Ever since Dec 15, 2009; ever since I saw Kathipara flyover from the top view while inside British Airways bound to LA; ... ever since I found it hard to understand...

While I was there in Chennai I found it hard to understand how the rules were so cruel. Now I find it hard to understand what the rules are.

Looking back, the pain, the agonies, and I was still smiling and laughing around. And for the past one year I have been busy finding that. With people not finding time to even bid a goodnight, you would only faint with shock at the changes that one is instilled with by his surroundings. How everything is so different now? No one has any time all of a sudden!

Its been getting over me badly and finally thanks to Neela Vaanam, I found some peace. All after tonight's harsh ignorance imposed upon me by....

What else would one have to face? All that I need is some way to bring back in me, what I had. A little of happiness to make people around me feel light. Hmm, I wish if I could...

Considering the force which makes me research about Time Machines, I wish things lasted a little longer.

Emotions are tough to understand, hard to create. Search for myself continues with this heart-touching song.

The actual video here conveys more emotions.

But you will feel the intensity only here from 4:00 (dont watch if you are not in a good shape)

People say to me 'life sucks'. They say this after getting so many goodies. Wish I could laugh at them some day...

Looking back at what I did to myself... deleting the huge database of frndzofall blog (4 year old), leaving the wordpress blog to rot, forgetting the Zephyr,... and with looking back so many times in this post, I feel sick.

As everyone will be hoping for a better new tomorrow, I hope I will find my long lost Hari in me, with all the lost connections with outer world! I still talk the same way, its jus that I dont get any response...

-Missing life,

Booki.

When pain gets sweet...

When you think of the care for that special friend...

when you are deeply hurt (for years together) and still THE friend doesn't even bother to hear you out...

when it is unable for you to even eat with the pains of hurt from morning till evening 5PM....

and at that time when THE friend sms me (from some fancy restaurant - The friend's friend's bday party) that THE friend tried vodka! with a  ":D" smiley...

that's when pain turns sweet... they say as Bruce Willis said in Sixth Sense film... "It doesn't even hurt anymore..." when pain passes beyond the threshold of death...

when u beg cry askin for the reason, u get areply that they dont deserve u. What to do, even if someone else doesn't deserve, you ought to be punished. hmmm people change every single word they said and punish me. 

-booki

note: food I ate now (breakfast) about 10mins ago...it pissed me off.

The Hand Kerchief

"Hey...don't touch that chumkey, you idiot!!! That's what makes some five hundred of the total eight hundred rupees!!!", said Sanjai, showing off his new Diwali dress to all his class-mates. The IV-'A' classroom was filled with a sense of jealousy and excitement, of course not in the right proportions, as it was just a fourth grade classroom! Sanjai said, "Hey post-office, post-office... hey postman, have any letters for me??" and the class burst into laughter making Shiva, with his torn old dress, a laughing-stock. Tears burst out of Shiva's eyes and he ran out of the classroom to cover himself from those atrocities.

The school ended without much of goodness to Shiva. Shiva then returned home with great anger that he was not bought and given a new fancy dress for that Diwali, but only to find that his mother was not there at home as usual. She is working as a servant-maid in about five houses to save the house from burning down with hunger and also to pay for Shiva's education; and at times even to pay for Shiva's father, a drunkard, who spends all he earns, and asks more money for drinking liquor...just for his personal pleasures. Analyzing the situation, Shiva understood that it is highly impossible for his mother to buy him a good dress. But his age did not support him to think further and made him remain a bit adamant.

It was around 7.30 in the night and Shiva's mother returned home to see the tears-filled Shiva's face.  Without any query, Shiva burst out with anger and hatred but with a little love too, that he was the only one who didn't wear a new dress at school and demanded that he wanted one immediately. Shiva's mother couldn't control her emotions; went into the bathroom with Shiva following her to see his extremely sobbing mother. He understood about the situation a little (as much as his age allowed him to think) and hugged his mother and said, "Mamma, it's ok...I need no dress now. Don't cry mamma...". She kissed him and her heart felt so light as if it was flying. She then decided that something has to be done about this.

Shiva's mother took an old earthen pot and closed it tightly with a lid using a cloth and made a small hole on the other side. She said to Shiva, "Here is your private account Shiva. I will give one rupee a day for the next one year and so for the next Diwali, you will have collected some three hundred and fifty five rupees, ten days before Diwali, with which I can buy you a dress that will be very beautiful for you. Right?" Shiva's face was as bright as lightening and he asked her, "Can I start the saving process now itself mamma? Please....". The child's enthusiasm could not be detained by his mother and gave him a one rupee coin.

The next whole year was a great fun with eagerness for Shiva. First at the beginning, when he dropped the coin into the pot, he would hear a simple "Thut Thut". After some months, he observed the change in sound which was "Chuck Chuck", the mixing sound of the coins and pot. Shiva used to tell proudly of these sounds to his mother and would get a hug back from her along with the one rupee coin! Then the sound changed to a small "Cling Cling", most of them coming from the whole lot of coins itself.

Three hundred and fifty days have gone by. What else would that little heart want in his favour than waiting for those small five days to go by!? But maybe God had something else in store for him.

"Mamma...I will buy a sky blue shirt with white stripes and a black pant mamma...ok? That would be very good no? Or I will buy a red colour shirt and white pant??? No no...it will be the green colour.....what can I buy mamma???", asked Shiva. "We will go to the shop and you look at all dress there and select the best one you like, ok dear?” replied his mother with a very smiling face; amount of happiness between the two can't be described in words.

"Shiva, Shiva, your father is admitted in Government Hospital... go there immediately", said shockingly, the neighbourhood friend to Shiva and his mother. Both of them rushed to the hospital with Shiva having a very questioning mind of what is happening around him and his mother fearing of what has happened to her husband.

In the hospital, they came to know that he has damaged his liver very much due to excessive drinking. Tears flowed down her cheeks and started praying to all Gods she knew. Just then the doctor came out and said, "Are you the wife of that drunkard? We need to give him an injection immediately. It costs three hundred and fifty rupees. Here is the prescription. Go and buy it immediately".

Shiva's mother felt like dying when she heard this. Where on earth can she go for so much money immediately? Just then she remembered about the money saved by Shiva. "But it is the first ever dream that is going to come true for that little dear boy.  How can I spoil his year-long dream?” sobbed to herself. Just then she heard Shiva calling out to her. "Mamma, here is that three hundred and fifty rupees that I had saved. You break this pot and buy the injection mamma... go and buy mamma, papa is in danger right?” She felt a feeling in heart as if she was flying out of the world. It is her own child who gave her the money she was thinking of...without any regret. She didn't even ask him for. She could see a small genuine smile in his small face.

Shiva's father was discharged and he then stopped drinking after hearing what Shiva has done. But after all these events, both the mother and father were very disappointed but Shiva was not at all! She asked Shiva, "Are you sad that you couldn't get the dress you wanted for this Diwali, my dear?” with tears rolling down. "No mamma, even if I don't get that dress this time, I have started saving one rupee from that day, when you broke the pot, itself. So I will get an additional ten rupees next year with which I can buy a hand-kerchief too. After all, for my next Diwali, I will have a new dress, a new kerchief, and also a non-drunkard papa with me!"