The dreamer

Over the last 2 years since I last wrote a post, a lot has happened. Let me run you through it quickly. I began having frequent visions. It all started when I began studying bio-chemistry. Bio-chem happened after I had this dream about finding a cure for Parkinson’s disease. Aids was too clichéd you see. So, through the 3 years of college, I battled lethal fumes (not kidding!), pesky allergies, vortex of projects, and the fear of blood.

But just when I was a few tests away from finding a cure, I flung my test tube with deep frustration and it shattered into a million pieces each of which I had to scoop out. (I also had to pay double the lab-breakage fee as it was a deliberate act) As I stared squarely at the face of the dustbin, I saw my broken reflection on shards of glass and it dawned on me that I hated what I was doing. The scientific process was laborious. I do love science. It is a wondrous story I like to listen to. But that drab-lab was like a cataract that obstructed my greater visions. It made me do math. It made me handle pee, poop, other fluids and solids and semi-solids. This was not what I had in mind! I had to bolt. Here bolt means finishing the course with distinction, if I may add.

I leafed through the dream diary in my head for any other dreams that I may have had, but lay forgotten in the recess of my mind which now reeked of phenyl hydrazine (the lethal fume I was talking about) potassium permanganate and agar gel.

The purple haze cleared. And I saw the word communication, in big bold red lettering. The ceiling fan went on an overdrive and blew open the pages of the newspaper lying discarded beside me. Page number 19 gently fluttered onto my lap. ‘Hurry! Applications for M.A communication close on April 19,’—the ad said. This course was at M.O.P Vaishnav.

Having studied in a co-ed system all through my life I was reluctant to step down to a “women’s college.” But, I went there and it was a good move after all. It makes for a great atmosphere to learn communication. If you can make a successful presentation to dozens of girls who are more interested in size-zero than semiotics, you are communication material baby!(A post about that for later)

Somewhere in between all this, like every other Indian student who wants to find the quickest route to make a faster buck, I appeared for CAT. And …well, let’s leave it at that for now, I have bigger things ahead.

I also heard it through the college grapevine that Reuters was recruiting. Gasp! Reuters!! Sweet heaven! Reuters! I somehow HAD TO enroll into placements. The college had rules against impromptu entries into the placement rounds. I sold my story. I had to. You see, Reuters was a big deal. Every time I went to Bangalore, I’ve always stood before the Reuters bureau with goose bumps crowning my brain as I thought about the creative and inquisitive minds inside that temple of journalism. To be working there would be the ultimate dream! Chuck Cat, chuck scientist! Redemption is here!

I moved to Bangalore, and I worked during the nights and slept through the day. I was given small and mid cap oil-service companies to cover. Well, it’s not exactly what I had imagined it to be, but hey! The stocks did move ok! Just because you haven’t heard of them mmbbllllbbbbll……

I was doing New York’s work I would tell people -- sigh, don’t we all want to sound grand. The aim now was to cover the “chindi” ones (Reuters lingo for small companies) for the time being and then find that ‘break’ and move on to bigger things in the company. After 11 months the big break came. It came at the time when I least expected it. It was a huge assignment. The M word was happening!


I humored my folks when they decided to launch themselves into a project—the Mr. Right project. I thought uploading a profile on tamilmatrimony.com would be nothing but a harmless joke; I thought it will give some comic relief to my jobless folks. But I figured the joke was on me, when I found out they were dead serious about it. My amusement park kinda fun went bust! First I laughed, and then I laughed hard. Harder. Then chided. Ultimately I bawled, vowing to never set foot in Chennai if they keep up with their ‘mindless fun!’ I desperately had to unwind so I logged on to facebook. After checking out the usual suspects, my glance fell on the sheet of paper my mom had left by the computer. It had the names of 6 guys. Six guys whom I hadn’t heard of before. Interesting name, I thought to myself, Nithyanand Shankar. My curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to take a sneak-peek into that website and check those boys out.

Never before in the history of tamilmatrimony.com has someone found their match in 6 clicks. I saw the profiles of 6 men. Nithyanand was the 6th. I liked what I saw. His SEO quotient was also pretty cool, as I was digging through his facebook, flicker etc my parents somehow had some ESP about what I was doing and rushed to my room. And without even realizing the words that were tumbling out of my mouth, “I don’t mind this one,” I said somewhat sheepishly.

It was 2:00 am. My folks went berserk with happiness. They never thought they would find the right match for me given the conditions I had laid down. My father immediately took a measuring tape and marked 5’8 on the wall and then marked 6’4 too. 8 inches apart we were -- this Nithyanand person and I. Was not sure how that would be. I’m not used to someone towering over me, in its truest sense. I made a mental note to ask this guy how tall was 6’4 really.

The next day, my mum told me this guy wanted to talk to me.

Over the next following days, I made a lot of notes.I framed my questions using the choicest of words. I was a Reuters journo after all! I was ready for his call. After much waiting, he didn’t call the day he was supposed to (Later apologized about some phone mal-function) disappointed, I left for Bangalore. Sleep came easy, but don’t even ask what I dreamt of! At 7:00 pm, the phone rang. Unknown number. I woke up with a start. Crap! That’s got to be him. Quick where is that paper with all my questions!? I searched frantically! After a few unfruitful seconds, I answered the phone.

Veni,vidi, vici.

May 2nd 2010 we tied the knot among my best friends and family. Sitting on my father’s lap waiting for Nithyanand to tie the knot was perhaps the most emotional moment in my life. Despite fighting hard to control those tears that were threatening to give away, they flowed. I cried unashamedly in front of all. (But yes, I also happily galloped away to Greece immediately after that with my prince charming.)

At the end of it all, now, as I celebrate my first anniversary, let me tell you about this one dream I’ve always had. I was happily married.