Postal 3?

I recently applied for the Entrance Examination of DRDO (Defense Research and Development Organization). The Mail was send to

The Director
Recruitment and Assessment Center (RAC)
DRDO, New Delhi.

It was send Via Speed post, but the Post Office had other ideas.


The Director, RECT AND ASS, now that is something totally new. There goes my motivation to join the DRDO, sounds pretty gay to me.

The Other Grandmother

Couple of days back the Grandmother of my very close friend passed away. It was just about a week before this that I mentioned to him "You know what she remembers me every time I come by, she is the closest to a Grandmother I ever had."

In my life I probably never experience the love from a grand mother, even if I did I was too young to remember any specifics of it. After combing through my memory all I can find is two instances in 25 years of my life.

The first that comes to my mind is when I was probably around 4 or 5 years old, I remember going to my mother's place in Waynad and am walking ahead of my parents and then my Grandmother (Mother's Mother) sees me, she comes and hugs me real tight and starts crying. After this my only referring after her death when I was in my 2nd standard.

The second thing remember is probably that I was sitting with my Grand Mother (Dad's Mother) and watching Knight Rider, I am pretty sure that she did not understand anything, but quarter way through, I remember she was called to the Kitchen and she went there. The next thing I remember is the day she died, she passed away due to cancer in uterus, I was in 4th 3rd Standard I guess. It was late night and it happened in my Father's Sister's place, so we all went there in the night.

In my whole life of 25 years, this is all I have to say, about 2 paragraphs of experience. I got more acquainted with my friend's grand mother probably when he moved to his new house. She used to hang out near the dining table area, hang out as in sit on a chair there. That is when she actually spoke with me, she asked me what was my name and what I do? etc, I was at the time in school doing my 12th.

Years passed by, my engineering course and even after getting my job, when ever I go there she used to speak with me, even though it was not a the usual bi way communication. Initially I had this urge to resist, but the more of these conversations we had the more comfortable I became. The conversation usually starts with confirming whether I am "the particular person she referring to", then she asks me about my work, whether I a planning to study, is my mother at home, sometimes about my sister.

Sometimes my friend used to barge in to complete the conversations. I felt kind of strange talking to a very elderly person, I am not that used to this sort of conversation. Every time I go to his house, I used to expect her to forget me but she never did, always managed to remember me correctly except once, but she was quick to correct herself. I guess I will never meet a person like her again, she was the closest I ever had to a grand mother.

I dedicate this lyrics from Pink Floyd's High Hopes to her

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river

Forever and ever

She gave me an experience or at least a glimpse of it, which otherwise I would have never experienced in my life or I could hope for...