Tushar Mangl

Its such a nice hot weather with cool winds blowing all round. It creates a mood for yearning, you are yearning for the rain, for the heat to subside, the dust to settle. It pushes you into a mood of nostalgia.  It happens, right? The other day, in office someone tuned up the Aaj Tak channel which was showing 40 year anniversary special for the emergency. I just watched it for a few minutes and wondered if it even matters today. Its relevance is all lost in history books for young kids to mug up the notes on the same and pass their exams. I soon got over it, but yesterday I found some very old songs that I used to hear all the time ( Summer of 69, The Desert Rose, Through the Monsoon etc). It bought back more memories.Again, you move on, pour yet another glass of scotch whiskey and pick up your kindle. Only, the book that I got hooked to was The Perks of being a Wallflower by Stephen Chobsky. It's the kind of growing up story, you read and it just tumbles and bumbles something in

What's the deal with driving? As in, why people riding wheels? I was wondering about it today, on a long drive in this stuffy humid weather. I saw around me, so many people enjoying driving. The guy on his yamaha who zipped past me as if he was racing an airplane,  that woman driving the honda city with one hand on the car horn and other on her mobile and so many others. We all know of someone who is crazy about driving cars, bikes and even planes. They just want to ride the thing. What do we get out of it? Are we looking for a release? Are we trying to find some meaning in the maddening traffic? Or are roaming aimless like our ancestors used to do on chariots and horses sets some order in our random life? Look around you, how many people close to you would say no to a long drive if time permits? Even if some people don't enjoy driving much, they love being the part of the process, riding pillion to a scooter or a passenger on a train. At times I feel its about a feeling of

You meet a guy at work. He is totally opposite of you. You know you could never be friends. But you develop a relationship of respect and acquaintanceship. You never save his number in your phone. He tells you about his life. His parents who live down south and have got him a house in Delhi to live. You don't tease him about his 9-year-old relationship with a girl he met at school and wanted to marry. But he tells you all about it. Your respect for him goes up a notch, after hearing about his love for this girl and his future plans with her. And one day a mutual friend informs you on WhatsApp that the guy is dead. Killed in an accident. Life so young gone. Saddens me. Disturbs me. But all good things end one day. Don't they? Some sooner than later.