tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296092272012-02-11T21:56:43.515+05:30Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.comBlogger561100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-75283500595332584142012-02-06T00:23:00.000+05:302012-02-06T00:23:46.067+05:30

What happened exactly a year ago turned me into Iron Man. I met with an accident and broke my collar bone. Since the operation, I have a metal plate with six screws on my left shoulder. The plate's and screws' contour is clearly visible on my shoulder and I've flaunted it to almost all of my friends in Bangalore. They gasp in awe. The accident was my worst, as it happened just a week before

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-84438968478470584722012-01-20T22:56:00.000+05:302012-01-20T22:56:43.716+05:30

When we were in class 12, my friend—who, like me, was in one-sided puppy love for the first time—once told me how he could not wait to go to sleep at night. Reason: His sweetheart used to visit him in his dreams. While in real life the girl used to call him "bhaiyya" (this is what happens when you're in love with a school junior), I suppose she was all lovey-dovey in the dream. I was not as

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-31971619300630858562011-12-25T00:47:00.002+05:302011-12-25T17:51:44.898+05:30

This day, in 1987, about 2.30 am, I was born in a Dehradun hospital. When my father went home after my birth, my grandmother asked, "Kya hua?" (meaning: "Is it a boy or a girl?") My father replied, "Hemant hua." I was born in Hemant ritu, the coldest, err... the chilliest, season. And thus the name. After the sun rose, my sister—who was then one-and-a-half year old—came to the hospital to see me

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-86479317429676535052011-12-11T22:41:00.002+05:302011-12-13T00:29:51.368+05:30

There are times we find ourselves stuck. There seems to be no way out; no solution in sight. The problem starts looking more like a fact, something that has to be put up with instead of something that can be solved. Often, there, indeed, is no solution. We give up, abandon hope. But you know what? When we say "There, indeed, is no solution", it actually means that our limited mind, which is used

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-6698044809269513382011-12-05T01:31:00.000+05:302011-12-05T01:31:31.206+05:30

Weighed down by life's cruelties, she found herself stuck at the end of the road. Watching from above, God whispered: "My child, look up, look around. It's not the end of the road. It's just a bend in the road." She could not hear; sound of the bygone, happy days was ringing in her ears, haunting her. She could not see; having seen only pain everywhere, she had neither the strength nor the

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-68853027515823514962011-12-04T00:46:00.000+05:302011-12-04T00:46:29.386+05:30

In class 12, I had failed in four out of five subjects in the first pre-board exam, which was held less than three months before the boards. Had scored 88 in English and about half of it in four other subjects taken together. Failed in two or three subjects in the second pre-board and in physics in the third pre-board. A week before the board exams, we had to collect our admit card from the

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-13343680646421050182011-11-23T20:49:00.003+05:302011-11-24T21:47:44.065+05:30

This is my premature opinion on the movie. I've watched it twice but am still baffled. Is the story: (a) flashback-turned-chronological narrative? (b) told chronologically? (c) simply a victim of bad editing? Is it just me or do you too think that the movie is caught in a time warp?  There's more confusion. Towards the end, we are told the heroine is in coma. We don't know whether she recovered,

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-64098676108664023332011-11-11T19:25:00.003+05:302011-11-12T17:56:28.501+05:30

As a child, I never watched Shaktimaan or Captain Vyom. I used to mock my friends for liking shows as puerile as these. But now, having watched Ra.On, I'm in the same category as them. Actually, I watched the movie twice. I liked it. I'm guilty as charged. Sorry, Shaktimaan. No, I'm not super impressed by the movie. It certainly didn't live up to the hype. There was no edge-of-the-seat moment (

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-82549159673974302222011-11-10T17:41:00.007+05:302011-12-04T00:50:56.408+05:30

I had a bizarre dream last night. As the title says, I was hugging a bitch in the dream. By bitch, I mean a real bitch, not a mean, female homo sapien. She had brown fur and was of Indian breed, the kind you'd find on a street in India's middle-class localities. The location was the street where I'm living in Bangalore. I was sitting next to the bitch, my arms around her neck (I know, it's weird)

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-15708574233475213702011-10-27T20:45:00.007+05:302011-10-28T18:16:34.059+05:30

Another Diwali has come and gone. Yet again I notice the giant, conspicuous constellation, Orion, and wonder if it's been keeping an eye on me since I first noticed it, when I was a mop-haired, half-pant wearing skinny kid in my village-like township in Chhattisgarh. It's been 10 years since I last bought crackers. Parents' assertions that it's a waste of money and media campaigns that said shun

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-24975494324372997862011-10-16T18:29:00.000+05:302011-10-16T18:29:31.222+05:30

What sucks about pain? Well, that it sucks, and hurts like hell. What's super about pain? Well, the stupid emotion is, maybe, an essential ingredient in the recipe of a great rockstar. Just finished writing my second song, courtesy the frustration, angst, shame, helplessness etc I'm feeling. Once upon a time, not so long ago, a certain Kurt Cobain was disillusioned. And he made it known through

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-50000868686122339722011-07-06T13:54:00.006+05:302011-08-03T17:23:23.289+05:30

And my first job comes to an abrupt end. A beautiful chapter comes to a fugly end. I'm gonna miss that place like, dunno what to say, gonna miss it to so much. For past year and a half, I had no aim other than becoming a better sub-editor. Tried my best to give headlines with a zing, sometimes succeeded too. The Economist stylebook was my Bible. Used to read it, re-read and then re-read it again.

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-86900561492754375462011-06-13T18:20:00.017+05:302011-12-04T00:47:12.333+05:30

It's a dream I saw around a couple of weeks ago, when I was in Goa. In the dream, I was in Balco (the township in Chhattisgarh where I lived for the first 17 years of my life), in our bungalow quarter that has a big lawn. And what do I see on the lawn of the quarter with whom we share our left boundary wall? The girl whom I love was doing Tai Chi there! She was standing with her feet

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-40330021519289320452011-05-17T01:29:00.003+05:302011-08-01T16:59:33.053+05:30

And the second reason I chose to work in Bangalore was its climate. The first reason—she. But now she's leaving the city. She's going. No, I won't miss meeting her. She never met me. Never agreed to meet. I never got to see her. But always hoped to see her. Maybe on M G Road/Brigade Road/Central mall/Garuda mall. Particularly on weekends. Lived two years like that, with a hope. But now she's

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-16577687050411808192011-04-19T01:28:00.007+05:302011-08-01T17:11:30.090+05:30

Issued in public interest From the perspective of someone who has been there, done that, I'll advise you not to cook food with water taken from the bucket in your bathroom. No matter what. You wouldn't want to learn the lesson the hard way. I was making khichdi this Sunday. Opened tap in the kitchen for water to boil rice. Damn! No water. What to do? Vegetables were cut and I was hungry. Heck,

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-51796246959038666742011-03-27T18:16:00.008+05:302011-11-09T21:03:16.685+05:30

My this Valentine's Day was the stuff dreams are made of. Cool breeze. Two caring women by my side. One looking into my eyes, smiling, asking my height, weight etc. The other holding my hand. Well, it was the stuff nightmares are made of. The breeze was coming from the AC of the hospital I was admitted in. Those caring women, "sisters", were caring because it is their profession. One was holding

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-35850296845754245252011-02-02T17:56:00.005+05:302011-08-01T17:12:05.607+05:30

I've always believed Twitter is a lazy man's Blogger. My hypothesis is, the more you tweet the less you blog. Tweets are small, blogs are big. I've always had an affinity for all things big (statement not to be misinterpreted). Only 140-characters! Why restrictions? To tweet is to underperform. A tweet is a blogpost that could not be. Twitter is called a "micro-blogging" site. But why go micro?

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-74294862263660802082011-01-05T19:52:00.002+05:302011-08-01T17:12:16.657+05:30

Today has been one of those days I'd like to forget. Your Honour, I ask, is it a sin to ride a bike in Bangalore with fake Adidas half-pants on? Why, why did those bloody *#%@~ traffic cops stopped me twice? A challan of Rs 600 (grrrrrrrr...)! Because of the series of unfortunate incidents today, I'm sitting in my office, wearing that fake Adidas half-pant, looking dirty and like a pick-pocket.

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-60727331961009069552011-01-01T18:26:00.002+05:302012-01-20T22:59:10.737+05:30

It's new year! Time to make resolutions, aye? Well, no more impossible resolutions like "bathe daily", "no birdwatching". But enough freewheeling. It's time to get serious, responsible. If I want this year to be different (read better), I have to be different (yes, better). Thus my new year resolutions: 1. Make a lot of money. I say I'm in love, wanna marry her. What sort of parents would accept

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-29428964540344104072010-11-07T01:00:00.005+05:302011-11-27T23:07:17.707+05:30

Hey! You beautiful girl, my friend Umm... I wanted to ask something Are you just a friend to me or am I in love with you? I wish I knew. Can you tell? I adore you. I like you. I respect you. You make me feel happy You make me feel kool I do feel something in my heart, when I see you I long for your company I look forward to see you I want to be there, Doing everything you do What was the

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-29253958055016787452010-10-13T17:38:00.004+05:302011-11-27T23:31:07.231+05:30

So, what is it like to watch a cricket match in stadium, eh? If your team is winning, the icon player dominating and a rapturous crowd at its vocal best, be sure as hell that watching a match can be an exhilarating experience. The euphoria multiplies when, even as you are in the stadium, your friend calls you: “Hey, I just saw you on TV!” I'm writing this minutes after India defeated Australia

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-19964791284114528652010-09-29T18:12:00.007+05:302011-08-01T17:12:32.099+05:30

I wonder what's wrong! Do I look like, uh, gay? Or desperate, by any measure? I don't think so. BUT WHY THE HECK DO THESE GAYS AND PIMPS IN BANGALORE SEEM TO THINK OTHERWISE!!  (Calm down, calm down... 1, 2, 3... 98, 99, 100. Yo! Fine now.) Well, this year gays have approached me thrice, for you know what. Let me narrate chronologically. Gay: You hungry? I: I've just had bananas :-| Location:

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-10769748147227495152010-08-05T04:11:00.002+05:302011-11-27T22:49:41.951+05:30

Can there be a better news? No, sir. Take That, the original line-up, is back together..!! WOOOOHOO!! The five, original five, back together, after more than 15 years. Robbie is back in the band! YIPPIE!!! Man, it's so exciting... Click here to read about it. So, why is it such a big news to me? Four out of these five guys have been performing for the past four years anyway. Their comeback song

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-16515219160271701222010-07-30T17:34:00.010+05:302011-05-15T02:08:14.295+05:30

Yeah... On this date, one year ago, I had arrived in Bangalore in search of a job. Not that I eagerly wanted a job. Just that parents didn't let me have a laidback, freewheeling time at home so thought of going far away from there.Hmmm... So 12 months since I came here. Time flies really fast. It's been two years since I had started my journalism college. Man... Anyway, wanna know how was my "job

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-73376613322550713962010-07-10T19:21:00.004+05:302011-05-15T01:58:46.279+05:30

Who am I? I ask this not from a spiritual or philosophical point of view. But really, who am I? Why was I born? What's the purpose of my life? What is it to achieve which I have taken birth?This question haunts me. I see people who are very successful in their fields, how people love and adore them without any bounds. The whole nation gets emotional when Sachin Tendulkar raises his bat after

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-80081803413370462792010-06-21T23:46:00.002+05:302011-05-15T01:48:05.166+05:30

Guys (I mean the members of MLTR), this is a letter to you. I don't think you'll come across it. But, to quote Harold Robbins, from Never Love A Stranger, "It is strange to write something you know may never be delivered but it is stranger still to imagine it will be."I wonder if you remember. In Bangalore, in June 2010, you had a small performance-cum-fan interaction in a retail store before

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-30381283826703547022010-05-27T18:00:00.012+05:302011-05-15T01:30:41.579+05:30

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I almost got robbed past night. Read on to know what happened. At 2 am, I was walking towards home after finishing work at office. Yes, in the dead of night, I chose to walk 9.4 km to my room. Had given my motorcycle for servicing, so the only other option to get to home was taking office cab. Heck! I was in no mood to travel "cattle class", to different corners of the

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-91332081678331180682010-05-08T18:51:00.006+05:302011-08-01T17:00:12.881+05:30

Love is what I'm feeling right now. Love is when I just see her new display pic on a social networking site and get delirious, euphoric, and crazy with unbound happiness, so much that just want to scream at the top of voice that I love her! Love is when it takes just one look at her sweet pic to make me overflow with gratitude, so much that I have to fight back the tears of joy. Love is

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-74210579870422698672010-04-26T16:07:00.004+05:302011-08-01T17:12:47.476+05:30

The worst time to wear your brand new white sports shoes is the rainy season. All it takes is one drive in downpour to soil your proud, new purchase. Splash, splash! And dirty, muddy water renders a dirty look to your no-more-white and no-more-new-looking shoes. These were pre-monsoon rains here, which marred the beauty of my dear new white shoes (I emphasise, my “dear” new shoes). Partly white

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-54457373364407461402010-02-22T18:17:00.005+05:302011-05-04T01:24:58.768+05:30

WHOA! Amazing, amazing, amazing!! Eeeeehaaaaawww!! Oh my God, I still… Oh, baby! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! Yeah! Shout, scream, it’s the Backstreet Boys, baby! Right here in Bangalore! Woooooohoooooooo!! February 21, 2010. When the “Greatest boy band on the planet” came down to Bangalore for a live performance. A whole generation of teenagers grew up on their love songs. Hitherto, only a BSB

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-53065568979255823902010-01-30T18:26:00.010+05:302011-08-01T17:13:07.900+05:30

Happily singing a Westlife song, merrily swinging the pack of new T-shirts I had just bought, I was heading towards British Library. Right next to the footpath on the way is St. Mark’s Cathedral, where I noticed people sitting in the prayer hall, listening to the sermon. Ever since I read 'Sermon on the Mount', I’ve been inclined towards Christianity and have been curious to attend mass prayer/

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-68142252073305671612009-12-25T15:11:00.000+05:302009-12-25T15:12:25.939+05:30

Coming soon...

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-8931961186897876562009-12-11T17:47:00.011+05:302011-04-30T19:04:38.579+05:30

Day 1 of reporting: Covering the inauguration of nth ATM of some bank at the back of city railway station. Duh! Specimen of an insignificant event, but still just how mighty proud I was! Back at work; working almost after a gap of five months. “Hello sir, I’m from The Hindu,” is how I introduce myself at all the events during those five weeks I interned with the paper. Oh yeah, baby! There’s a

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-8567859956006656862009-11-03T14:21:00.010+05:302011-04-30T18:56:41.143+05:30

Can things go any more nasty? Traffic cops pulled me twice in past four days and fined Rs. 100 for jumping traffic signal, when I hadn't done that!! That ba***rd let another driver, whom he had stopped, go but penalised me. (I wish I could type here all those gaalis I'm thinking for that ....) Yesterday when I woke up, I found my mobile phone missing from my room. It got stolen in the most

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-66987764144557403572009-09-22T17:44:00.009+05:302011-04-30T18:46:39.250+05:30

Oh yes! I'm happy as heaven!! :-) WOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!!! Yeah... Happy. Happy as heaven! WHOA! Well, all I wanna do right now is sing and dance and yell, and do it till I tire and fall asleep. Whoo!! OK. OK. I'll try to calm down now. Caaaalm... down...Breathe in... Breathe out... Breathe in... Breathe out... Breathe in... Breathe out... Be sober now, and write. Yes! Sober! The ecstasy of happiness

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-69938848774223191822009-07-15T02:32:00.015+05:302011-08-01T13:21:36.730+05:30

The beginning “I feel like a fish in the water,” I proclaimed at home after my first day here. Just a couple of months earlier I was so clueless about my future: law, army, management, journalism… Had applied everywhere and just didn’t know what I really wanted. But the first day at my journalism college was enough to affirm I had made the right decision. “Be a shark in the water,” came prompt

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-6599966419017120322009-02-21T17:17:00.016+05:302011-08-01T13:34:40.534+05:30

As the legend goes, not so long ago in Institute of Management Studies (IMS), Dehradun, there was a group of devil-may-care guys, who cared for nothing else but G-I-R-L-S. And one of them was just crrrrazzzzyyyyyyyyyy about them. He had a crush on, say, every other girl. Well in terms of girls, his college was heaven. Even there was strict uniform code (waiter's uniform - white shirt, black pant,

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-20433776449320331692009-02-14T23:17:00.012+05:302011-08-01T17:13:36.205+05:30

It's Valentine's Day! Just 40 minutes past midnight and a beautiful girl is giving me missed calls; she wants me to call her. In morning, another girl calls me and wishes "Happy Valentine's Day" very enthusiastically. Ten minutes later, my cell buzzes. A very very very charming and sweet girl has wished me happy Valentine's Day. Ok, it's nice, I love you all. Thank you. But... I mean, that's it!

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-88344194846879854132009-02-08T21:47:00.007+05:302011-04-30T18:18:30.431+05:30

Om... I had read that the word "Om" has tremendous power, had read quite a bit. But like my mom had said once, to read and enjoy is one thing, and to feel and experience is another. Today, I felt and experienced. For those who don't know me, right now I'm doing my post-graduation in journalism. Here, as a part of our course, we have to produce a master's thesis, a research project. I chose the

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-75448487657398636162009-02-07T10:06:00.009+05:302011-04-30T18:12:22.554+05:30

I wish electricity hadn't come back past night. Still two days shy of achieving its full glory and shape, the moon looked darn handsome nonetheless. Oh yeah! It was 8 pm, and all of a sudden we had power cut. That means hostel lights gone, street lights gone... Basically all lights gone. Usually it irritates, the power cut, but not yesterday. Oh my, oh my, oh my! The whole world looked sooo

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-31198544564639397912009-02-01T18:10:00.011+05:302011-04-30T18:07:38.943+05:30

Whoa! It's such a beautiful evening! What's so special about today's evening? Haha, the first point just came to mind — PEACE.... Tranquility... The usual guys in the lab who make a lot of noise are all out. Only three people in the lab now, all working silently... Ah, I feel so relaxed. And outside it's the light blue sky, with that orangish fireball sinking down beyond the horizon. The orange

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-53950332325776984812009-01-30T21:36:00.009+05:302011-10-29T23:58:58.377+05:30

Oh, life is beautiful! More so when you can see love all around. It's so good to listen to your friends talk all day about their beloved. You'd know just how beautiful it is, the whole feeling, when your dear friends talk about their love... And when they start talking, they just don't stop! My God, this non-stop chatter... Hmm.. Oh damn! Why am I getting excited now! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.... I

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-57119224346743462162009-01-23T18:59:00.004+05:302011-04-30T17:52:05.992+05:30

Of course, it's my blog, so I'll write what I please. I was just reading some text on Law of Attraction and right now felt like writing a blog entry about who I think I am. That is to say, about who I am, for we are what we think. Isn't it! I'm completely mad. Yes. I'm very very different from others. How and in what ways, I don't feel like explaining. How do we describe the unpredictable! If you

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-84381368996338724732009-01-15T22:27:00.004+05:302011-06-21T01:41:47.706+05:30

Yes friends, Hemant Gairola with a New Year Resolution list! No talk about how and why I have changed. Let's get to work (ooh, sounds impressive!): 1. Don't pro... WAIT!!Yup, resolution no. 1 is say only positive words. If there is something you don't want, don't think, speak or write about it. Instead, think, speak and write only about the opposite of what you don't want. Such as "I don't want

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-38872751246091991102009-01-08T20:13:00.007+05:302011-06-21T01:38:08.477+05:30

I was down, had hit rock-bottom. Had quit my college, almost. Even during the rehab time, had no intentions to come back until. I had lost weight, confidence, happiness, enthusiasm and self-worth. Had given up. Felt helpless, restless, irritated, frustrated... Man, was I depressed! Thank God I was depressed. Thank God I had hit rock-bottom. Thank God I felt so damn restless and helpless. Thank

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-57512925999851072332008-12-25T23:11:00.013+05:302011-06-21T01:37:05.744+05:30

Ugh... I'm sorry, I'm bit confused. 21 years. That is two decades plus one year. Can't believe it, I've spent this much time on this planet earth! Twenty-one years is not a joke! Growing old is alrite, but when will I grow up?? Three years ago, I legally became an adult as per constitution of India. Wait a minute! How can I be an adult, if I haven't watched any adult film yet! And today, as I

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-91656292069781965292008-12-09T22:25:00.009+05:302011-06-21T01:35:37.515+05:30

Just five minutes and the lab closes.. I'd hurry. This post is about other things I'd like to do in life. I'd write very briefly: 1. Modelling: Haha! Yes, modelling. I know I'm very thin, and have been nicknamed ostrich (lol!). But I hope they wouldn't mind having a good looking ostrich on ramp! Just how handsome I used to look in second year of college, when I had loooonnnnng hair.. Hehe... And

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-79505404064464603572008-12-09T11:21:00.006+05:302011-06-21T01:34:31.022+05:30

For so long I've been saddy-saddy about things I want but don't have... Why not take a look at what I still have, and will always have no matter what. Let me make a list of the little things I'm really grateful for: 1. I'm a very very intelligent guy. This is a fact. My marksheets would say I'm just an average student. Who cares! I know who I am. And wouldn't matter if the whole world stops

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-66153464611576780342008-12-07T12:35:00.007+05:302011-06-21T01:33:37.359+05:30

Woooo! Yeah, I can still feel. I can't believe it, but I can "still" feel those feelings. I'm not emotionless! For the first time in six months saw the video of that song (I Will Always Return) from my favourite movie (Spirit —The Stallion of the Cimmaron), and guess what! It felt the same way when I saw it first time, it sparked the same emotions, the emotions of joy (of having such wonderful

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-48228995366741069432008-11-23T16:30:00.010+05:302011-08-01T13:22:54.940+05:30

Dear sir, Wanted to thank you for all the strength and support you’d given me, when I needed it the most. I hadn’t been doing well in studies, you found out, and spoke to me about it, as a friend would. You told me you had great expectations from me (and got me pushing harder to meet them). You told me I could do it, you instilled faith in me. Every once in a while you’d stop by and ask me how

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-90026206894847651912008-11-12T18:25:00.019+05:302011-08-01T17:01:22.704+05:30

I wish every feeling had a name, and I knew them all. For, how do I describe what I’ve been feeling all these past days! Swinging between optimism and anxiety, belief and restlessness, anticipation and disappointment, then again optimism and then anxiety… What’s all this?!? Ah, I wish I had someone who'd care enough to talk to me and ask how am I, how’s everything… I wish I had someone, well the

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-42209299301629701102008-08-17T19:18:00.016+05:302011-08-01T13:23:27.347+05:30

Wow, and for what am I writing this blog entry today? For no great reason at all. Maybe just because it’s been one complete month since I arrived here at IIJNM, to become a journalist. One month over of this 11-month course! So how am I doing? Hmmm… Not bad, good we can say. But am I at my best? NO sir. Why not? Ughh... If any excuse has been devised to justify complacency or reluctance then tell

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-39647545144161394952008-08-04T20:10:00.015+05:302011-08-01T13:23:52.943+05:30

Today is the first day of the new academic year in IMS — Institute of Management Studies, Dehradun. My college. Ugh! I never thought I’d address IMS as ‘my college.’ But well, as the things turned out in the end, I miss my college and my peers. Let’s analyse. What exactly do I miss about being a part of IMS? Undoubtedly, it’s the fun factor that I’m missing. Wow, what a college it was! And what

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-64910678129201745032008-06-25T01:43:00.020+05:302011-08-01T13:24:15.579+05:30

How come! Kal hi to college shuru hua tha yaar… Achhe se yaad hai, 1st of August 2005, our first day at college! It was raining, we were standing in long queues to submit some useless form, silently observing the proceedings around us, trying to get the feel of the place, observing new faces around. Everything was new! The building, the place, the teachers, the peers… 3rd of August: Classes

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-15597518430065611452008-05-24T21:27:00.011+05:302011-06-21T01:25:13.962+05:30

Shame on us. Shame on the bureaucracy that has its roots so deep in our society that a policeman doesn’t even hesitate in asking for bribe or under-the-table commission and we don’t even mind sparing that 500 rupee note! Philosophy set apart, now let me come to the point. I had applied for passport a couple of months ago. To get the approval for passport a police officer visits the residence of

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29609227.post-44930522254141422422008-05-05T08:06:00.008+05:302011-06-13T19:01:39.196+05:30

Best things in the world are free. Whoever said that must surely have said it on such a beautiful morning. After days of merciless heat and humidity, when it started to drizzle last night everyone here in Doon could predict how the next day was going to be. Clouds could have been seen as cotton buds in the sky for past two days but it was last night when they chose to break their silence and

Hemant Gairolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01711458011900985180noreply@blogger.com0