Sunday, November 21, 2010

He Was Family

Boys don’t cry!
Do they …
They don’t ….  I dint cry
But he was family after all.
I dint talk much to him recently. I was a grown up now. Not a school going kid, who had ample time to play around, anymore. However we would exchange those concerned looks.
Did I say school, ah! What a beautiful time we had. I would hurry back home just to find him waiting for me, not sure if he did wait, but I would assume so. I would teach him how to catch the ball. He learnt it pretty well sooner than we expected. He would go catch it and get it back, only if that female dint cross his mind or way, otherwise he would follow her leaving the ball to its fate, which would, of course, be me getting it myself. He was a naughty fellow indeed.
And he was a terror. People literally feared to walk that way he went. Merely his sight would send a shiver down one’s spine. It won’t be exaggerating if I say that no one ever dared look him into his eyes. He remained unpredictable to us even. We never knew what make him happy and what made him sad. If he was too happy, he was too dangerous to mess around with. He caught my foot couple of times I tried messing, but was careful enough not to cause any damage as such. But he certainly left a fear in me and I started being careful not to play pranks.
We were all busy figuring and fixing our own lives that we forgot to spend time with him. The moment I g0t back home I buried myself into the 17” monitor surfing net like a mad man. Only when I went to the stairs that I remembered he was around. I wondered what he was feeling like. But was too busy to wait and enquire and would simply get back to the PC.  
Lately he was being sad and would go around the streets in search of his mates. He would return late at nights. Sometimes dint return at all.  I was too busy with my life that I barely noticed until today, at this point in time , when I realized what I have lost. That 24k idiot box would not shower the affection that he would have done. Had I spent all that time  with him, I would have left with sweet memories of his at least. I guess I would not forgive myself for that.
He is no more. A call to my home was answered by sad news. He was run over by a speeding school bus. He dint suffer much however. The death came almost instantly. Thank god he dint suffer that pain.
 But surely he left us all in pain. A vacuum occupied my thoughts the moment I heard the news. All the happy past flashed. Suddenly I was here and suddenly I was there.  I tried stopping the flow of thoughts that literally brought my world to standstill. I was no more concentrating on what I was doing. The world went numb.
We would call him KARAN, the unbeatable one. What if he was a dog, he was family after all.
And I dint cry.
Boys don’t cry.
But for those few drops that managed to slip out of my grip in trying to hold them back and which I quickly dried before anyone could see them.
Boys don’t cry, lest there would be no point in being a boy.
But he was family…..
He lacked the tongue but not heart.

An Appointment

It’s when a dozen voices start answering you for the address enquiry you make to the person sitting next to you, in a densely packed CITY bus, guiding you almost till the destination is reached, that you realize you are in Hyderabad. If you are lucky, there will be cases when you will be escorted to the place you wish to reach. I wasn’t that lucky however at that hour of the day. It was not a busy hour; however the traffic on the way was quite enough to give the bus a halt sometimes as long as 15 minutes at a stretch. Being somewhere on time is a dream that never come true for me. Sometimes I start late, and other times ….. I start late…..
   All in all, I never miss to be there, even if it’s an hour delayed. With a look at the mobile I realized I was running late by 15 minutes. The stop seemed to be nearing and just then I heard
“This is where you have to get down ! “ the conductor shouting from the other end of the bus.
“Yeah !, this is the stop , don’t jump,”, an old man insisted looking at my position on the foot board, “ the bus will stop at the stop !” he concluded.
“ Come on uncle , am a software professional !” , I tried to convey but my voice never reached the poor fellows ears.
“right here , this is it “, the boy who stood by my seat all along conveyed. He looked quite happy to get that seat as I left it. No wonder he was in a good mood to inform.
“ya I was told !” I replied.
 It appeared to me as if I were a thief, being chased and the crowd shouting “Catch him catch him!” on my back as so many of them were eager to get me off the bus. The place was quite familiar to me and as it had been 3 years that I dint move around, that I just wanted to confirm if I was getting down at the right place. But the CROWD.
 I quickly jumped off the bus as it slowed down just near to the stop, ignoring the old man’s instructions. I could still hear him shouting, not to do it. The place changed a lot as 3 years is quite a long time and for a Hitech city as this, things change rapidly and get beyond the point of recognition. The divider that lay in the middle of road appeared more or less like the china wall. Raised 2 feet above the ground, I couldn’t figure out  if it was just a road divider or a country’s border.
“ Bloody contractors , they leave no chance to eat away governments money!”. Said I to the man who was in the venture of crossing the wall, sorry divider, along with me. He ignored my statement and went on his way jumping onto the other side. I wondered if he was a contractor himself as I crossed to the other end of the road. “ Who cares anyway!”.
The last time I moved around the place, it was deserted, almost no shop’s or bakeries. Things changed a lot. I slipped myself into one of those familiar looking streets as I moved ahead to make the appointment happen. It was already 25 minutes past 7, and I desperately looked around to get good picture of the place and to see if I could recognize any of the surroundings. I failed miserably and without wasting much time on pondering the reasons of my failure, I enquired in one of those road side CHAT BHANDAR’s.
“Is this the way to Hyd Eye Clinic!”, I asked. The fellow gave a sarcastic look, as the smile faded which he put up when I was approaching his vehicle, probably because I was interrupting his work or might be that he was expecting a customer out of me and I turned out to be yet another trespasser into his part of the land.
“ Go straight !” he commanded as I was just nearing the 4 wheeler, pointing to the direction he insisted me to move, and I guess wishing that I don’t get much nearer to his kingdom.
“ thanks !” I dint lose my part of decency as I replied with a smile expecting the smile back, which never came my way.
The street narrowed into a lane as I moved ahead hurriedly without paying much attention to the surroundings. The screen shot of my last visit to the place suggested my moving to the next lane and I did exactly as was expected to do. The time running out on the other hand, I never cared to pay attention to the notice boards around. As I entered the lane, i could see no proper light source around but for the headlamps of the vehicles passing by now and then. I moved ahead expecting to find the place. a couple of enquires and I was advised to move ahead. A junction came where I had to make choice between two ways. I took the right and I was right in choosing it, I guessed.
I walked for another 5 minutes and the place started looking familiar to me. I presumed I was finally there. The lane broadened into a street and there I could see the board of the place I wished to give a visit. What I saw next startled me. Looking at left I could see the same Chat Bhandar I enquired in. soon I realized that I missed reading the boards and made a merry go round of the place. since there were no customers at his vehicle , the owner smiled at me, as I looked puzzled. I guess he got that I made a fool out of myself.  
                The appointment went quite well, however the smile dint leave my thought. I dint want to get into a fight so I slowly slipped off to the other road instead of going from the one I came, after the appointment. Soon I caught a City bus back to my abode.
“The way that I came was the way I should be going back!”, thinking thus I seated myself to the nearest empty place I could find .
“ IIIT Stop” , I told the conductor as I got some change off my pocket sufficient enough to get the ticket, as he approached me after quite a lot many stops after I boarded.
“We come that way, we don’t go the same way , you are into the wrong bus !” the fellow exclaimed as he smiled . The bus moved past the nearest stop to my location .
“NOT AGAIN ……….!” I shouted in despair. 

A Ten !

             The morning sun was getting brighter and the climate was getting hotter as the bus set off after a long wait. Running late on Monday morning I was in no mood to wait for another bus, though the one am sitting in was fully loaded with almost no gap even for the wind to pass by. Had I not jumped into the bus when it was about to reach the start point I would not have made it to that seat immediately next to the reserved seats for ladies. It was a 2 seater and I left the window coz of the sunrays that were directly hitting the head. The 10 o’clock sun shone at its best and, 1 minute at such a spot and you will have the baking effect.
A boy found his way to the seat immediately after me and was about to jump into the seat by the window. As it was a seat painted in green I took the chance to seat myself into it without paying much attention to the paint above the window indicating ladies reservation. Generally it’s the yellow painted ones are reserved for them. The boy was careful enough and he pointed to the paint as he paused in his attempt to occupy the seat.
“The seat is in green !” , I said ,”we can argue if someone insists us to get up”, I explained as he looked confused unable to decide on whether to sit or not to. Further he had no choice either but for sitting on that one empty place in the whole bus.  He adjusted himself.
The bus took pace and I started to search some pretty face in the front to sooth the eyes. Unable to find any that could capture my attention; I turned to the streets and wondered if I would ever make it to the office with that speed the bus was being driven.
“Ticket’s!”, commanded the conductor as he snapped his fingers.
‘Gachibowli….” Said I as I gave the Rs.12 that’s needed for the ticket.  
‘Here … !” he whispered as he handed over the ticket.
At that very moment a lady found the vacant seat in the one before us and got herself into that place.
“Ticket’s!”,the conductor snapped again pointing to the women.
“Gachibowli…. “ the lady requested as she gave the Rs.20 that was with her.
The conductor took the 20 and slipped it into the bag he carried, and got the ticket punched. The lady gave a Rs.2 coin so as to get  Rs.10 back from the conductor. The man took out a 10 and held it in his hand as he saw her searching for the coin in her bag, obviously he was expecting the 2 so that he don’t have to give Rs 8 in return. The man took the 2 from the lady, handed the ticket but did not give the 10, and moved ahead to the next seat.
“I gave a 20 !” the lady shouted as she was bewildered  at the act of the conductor.
“no you dint !”, the man replied showing the 10+2 which he still held In his hand.
“No, I gave 20 , you dint return the 10 !” the lady explained.
He got furious and took out all the money he had in his bag and showed there was no 20.
“She took out 20, am not sure if she gave you!”  the man standing next to her informed as the conductor put up a question mark face looking at him expecting him to clarify.
“She gave 20 !” I could not wait anymore to help the lady get back her 10, and being a spectator of the thing that was happening.
“Ohh ! is it.. !” the fellow gave a sarcastic statement , “  if there are soo many witnesses of the 20 she never gave, what’s there for me to say” , he concluded as he gave the 10 to her.
Evidently, he was not worried of the 10 he lost , but what mattered most was the defame he faced. Now was the trouble time for me. I giggled as he turned his back on to us, looking at the situation he was in. A blunder from my end as he heard me even after my being at most careful.
He might have let gone the issue had he not heard me smiling at his back. Now he was furious. He looked at me with an urge to hit me hard, I could feel it in his gaze. My being next to the ladies seat saved me……… I guessed.
At the next stop a group of women with their children boarded from the front, and reached directly to the place I was sitting in. one of the ladies pointed at the painting above the window. I knew she was expecting me and the fellow next to me to get up and get lost as it was ladies seat.
I pointed at the seat indicating it was green and not yellow.
She got my intension and again asked me to look up.
“Bloody hell !” I thought, and was about to make a move but the fellow next to me insisted to stay, so I paused.
The kids, they almost started seating themselves on the seat. The lady gave a look at the children and then to me. Blackmail , I felt for a while, but had no choice but to get up looking at the little menace’s that were making hell lot of noise.
There came the conductor again. Quite happy to see the situation I was in. gave a sarcastic smile. Gave the tickets to the ladies & giggled as he left the spot I was standing in.  I could see the joy in his face. He was the happiest being on earth at that moment.
I couldn’t help but smile as he left. I was angry at the kids but felt pity for the conductor. At one point I was so furious , I thought of giving the Re.10, which he lost , out of my pocket . But then , Rs.10 is quite a big amount and I gave up the idea.
The bus picked up speed but the traffic on the road made it run late by almost a half hour.  I was too late to the office already and could not afford to waste any more time. So I jumped out of the running bus at the IIIT stop where I could find the shuttle directly to office. The bus stopped however since few girls were to get down at the very spot.
              There he was !... the conductor standing at the back door of the bus, looking at me, with an expression I would never forget. He came all the way from the front just to catch me get down, and why will he not……………
           I owed him the Rs.10 he lost in battle with the lady.

A Surprise

“Crackers… Diwali…. “ I tried explaining what we were looking for gesturing all the time to the keeper of the first shop we found right next to the bus stop.
“Entha?’ (What?)  He questioned with almost a puzzled look. Thanks to the fiends at NIT Calicut , even we got acquainted with some regularly used words.
“Crackers ….. Bombs…… flowerpots”… my friend tried to convey.
The man got even more surprised at out question the next time. There is no fault of his either. It’s the north of Kerala and people do not fancy crackers in Diwali. In fact to many its no festival at all.
And we were in search of the crackers at such a place as this! But never ever imagined these people won’t even know the word CRACKER !
“Crackers  ... bombs ….”  We inquired in the next shop.
The fellow put a look as we were members of some Terror group looking around for ammunitions ! 
“Diwali …. Bombs… “I quickly confirmed not giving him much time to decide on our identities.
“From NIT.. Came…” I added.
You need to break the language or probably rip it apart to convey your intensions across the table. Lest otherwise it will be impossible to get information out of the crowd out here in Kerala where Hindi is almost a foreign language.
“Diwali anoo !... Westhill !...Evade illaa !” (Diwali ? Go to West hill ! not available here ) the guy finally understood the trouble we are into and suggested .
A little discussion and we were into the auto heading towards West Hill..
“I wonder what trouble we have to face in getting out stuff there!”
“Let’s see!”  I said.
We came to know the fellow dropped us at quite long a distance from the spot we wanted to go as we enquired. A half a KM walk awaited us and we moved hoping to find the place soon.
Besides a 3 storied building there was a way which led to the crackers shop. Ah the most cherished!
Once at the outlet we started figuring out the naming conventions they followed to get the stuff we wanted. Finding it to be almost impossible to get tongue twist to the new words, we decided to go the normal way .. … break the language or rip it up ……..
“Flower pot’s” we declared as our first choice.
“Entha !” (what) ..
“I don’t think we will celebrate Dewali this year” I said to my friend in Telugu out of distress at the expression the shopkeeper put up.
But the next words of him which followed mine left us with no choice but to be dumb found.
“Em kaavaaloo cheppandii ( Tel what you require  (in Telugu))” the shopkeeper said to us in a language known to us!

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Search For ...........

           The Monday morning at the new location was as bright as the Friday in the old. On the way to office in 7 seater, my thoughts took me back to the start of the chain of events that, I wished, should have never happened. A few months ago……….
New job, new place, freedom to be myself, all by myself, that was nothing less than a heavenly feeling for me. Things never went as planned for me till date but I don’t have any complaints either. Its life after all. It will be interesting only when things go against what you plan. Lest otherwise it would be as good as the ship being on the shore than in the sea. It’s becoming poetic I guess, let me shift to prose.
So here I was, thinking about the future that lay before me, trying to find some sleep in the hostel room besides one of the busiest highways in Pune. Not a second passes without hearing the vehicles passing by, roaring at the highest of the noise they could make, almost breaking the eardrums. A good night’s sleep is a must to put the brain at work in the office. But it became almost impossible to find peace in that place due to the movement on the road which was getting unbearable with every vehicle passing by.
It has been almost a month in the hostel, that we stayed, unsatisfied. It was not by choice but cause of situation that we had to fix our asses in there, instead of finding ourselves a nice big flat and live life king size claiming to be the proud owners of it and giving stop point for friends who visit Pune, who otherwise had to face trouble finding a reasonable location to stay, just like we did. Yeah! The transfer stuff. A little hope of getting relocated to our choice of places. To getting nearer to home which otherwise has become a dreams destination to reach with the distance almost reaching to 500KM.A so called insect of hope that the staffing team had put up into our brains recently by asking our choice of places, had further fueled the desire forcing us to extend our contract to stay at the hostel to one more month. I never wanted to get relocated. I liked Pune better than any other place and decided not to apply for any relocation. So I had to wait for others.
“So be it “we thought as we postponed the search for the flat to another 15 days. “Once the locations are decided we can be sure and can shift to a better place.” one of us concluded.Days passed by and there was no sign what so ever of being moved out of Pune. Close to the end of the months contract and we ran out of all hopes.
“This is it!... I don’t want to bear this anymore! Things are getting worse now !” I started one evening when at room after the office. “Am dying to move out of here. “
At first there was a little interest except for one or two and our count needed to be at least 5 in order to get a decent flat at reasonable price. After a little persuasion and negotiations , we were 5 ready to jump out of the hostel on the very next week. But first , “ we need to search”.
That Saturday we set out to find a place for ourselves in one of the most preferred locations by the employees of the company we work for. Primarily cause of the location being nearer to the office and secondarily cause the primary point is quite important else there are times when it takes almost one to two hours to reach the office.
We found a broker (I could have very well used “agent” but that’s what they are called out here) who could in turn find for us a nice place affordable enough so that we don’t have to put all of our income just to pay the rent. It being a location most preferred the prices go as high as the sky. We moved around one street to other then to the next. If it was decent it was not affordable, if affordable it needed a long walk to find the nearest bus stop, if it was near to bus stop it was neither decent nor affordable. We reached a crossroad desperate for our requirement, exhausted by the exhaustive search nothing less than the combing by the CRPF in the naxal zone.
The very idea of staying another month in the hostel was itself horrifying . Put aside the trauma that we need to pass though if only we had to do that. “We got to get it , by all means !” we decided and we changed......... the broker.
Next day we reached the same point almost in the same condition as we were the previous day , worst than that to be precise, after a 3 hours search, exhausted …
“We have to fix up on something today !” we thought , for then there was no way for us to go on a hunt in the week that followed cause of the INTENSIVE training that we were going through.
We insisted on looking for some more places of his contacts and told him the condition we were in , in a hope that he will find the one we wanted. He called up someone after our talk. A little discussion and we were heading to a new location, a place which seemed promising from the hype the fellow gave.
We were too happy to have found the place, too enthralled by the location it was in, too impressed by the facilities it had at a price a little near to what we planned for , and in a little time we made a quick move. Too quick to be corrected as you will know.
The owner of the home was away to some place and the lady of the house was dealing with the business there. She made her point clear, ”give an advance , the house will be yours . You don’t return to take the home , you lose it all !”. It sounded quite ok as we were damn sure to take it the very next week. And we gave a half of the month’s rent as advance, a blunder ….. Read on….
We were satisfied , happy to find it at last, but the happiness dint last long. That Monday there were mails to two of the 5 in the company, guess what it must have said !. Yes , it’s the relocation. Our dreams shattered as fast as we built them. There was no way we could have taken that home for it would cost a lot costlier for 3. A call to the broker made us realize that the lady was no less than a tyrant of the street and there was no way we were getting back the advance. Yeah we tried at least for part of it, but without success.
A dream shattered hurts a lot. The dream of cooking our food the way we liked it unlike all the junk we had to eat out here at the hostel. The mango pickle in steaming hot rice, the tomato curry with onions, the bhendi fry ahhhh ! What not. Yeah yeah you must be sharing the same thought right now. A homely meal, spicy , sufficient and above all , fresh, not like the ones we had to right now. The lemon rice, fired rice . Jeera rice , and every other rice that was possible. And then the tea at any odd time we liked. Yeah, if you are from campus you will know it better. Just the thought and we were out to canteen. The quest was not for tea but the, of little use discussions that followed. The drink would last not more than 5 minutes, the talk would end only after an hour, and again it was time for another tea. What a carefree life.
“We are not going to stay in this hell anyway!. “ we decided and we shifted to another ….HOSTEL…. yeah it was absurd. Nothing less than being into fire from the frying pan. But we had a choice of dining at our will at this place which saved quite a bit of frustration, than that was at the previous place. The other 2 left for the new place. And we were 3 trying to adjust ourselves in a room for 3 instead of a spacious flat as planned. Like I said, things never come my way so easily.
And here I was looking out of the window of the new place trying to gather some sleep, the vehicles roaring by, not that busy a road as before, only that the frequency of getting disturbed was relatively low. The place had some better things to offer however, the hot water that was available almost the whole day. We never knew where it came from, but it was there not even our requiring to put on some switch.
          “ It’s the solar water heater!”, the care taker would explain when asked. “Who carezzz ! “ my colleague would say “ Point is we are getting it !’ ignoring my interest to find out. And
soon I was convinced by his argument.
Another 20 days passed by ,we were finally into project and we were all along discussing to takea flat. We were just 2 this time but we never gave up the quest to find the place we wanted to find.. 
           And we restarted the hunt and finally found a very promising place well suited for us nearer, cheaper, spacious almost perfect. But for few fixes that were needed and would be taken care of by the owner of the flat. It was no less than a battle won for us. Finally, we found it. And this time we were extra cautious in paying the advance. We gave only 10% of the room rent as advance; experience is the best teacher as they say and as we learned from it the other day.
All was set. Days ran far more quickly this time, and the D day came our way, as we waited desperately with all our bags packed well in advance. After all we are going to enjoy the fruits of the tremendous work we put in. by fruits I mean the pickle, rice, fries. You know… the tasty mouth watering. Yeah yeah…. Control it……..
At last we were into the flat , had to cross a couple of hurdles but it dint matter really. The very day we tried to procure the gas connection, had to bribe a fellow for it but you know again it doesn’t matter. Everything seemed so perfect. By the time we finished gathering all the basic items to make a decent meal, it was quite late in the night and we had to postpone the plan to the next day and adjusted ourselves to the crap that we used to have. “A day more” we consoled our souls.
And finally I was in a place I longed for. A place to rest in peace after a long day’s work. It was a place quite away from the highway. No sound of any sort was audible but for hissing the wind made while trying to find its way out of the window. The distant moon seemed to be shining brighter than ever, or it’s just the joyous moment that made me feel that way. 
           All in all, life ahead seemed nothing less than beautiful. We were neither tired nor bored while getting things ready for our stay. After all it was what we all along dreamed and were desperate of. There was a disappointment however that we could not make the first meal happen yet. “A day more”…. we slept with the hope.
The Friday morning sun made the room glitter, and I woke up , got ready, went to office and once at my desk I opened the Outlook. A couple of regular mails occupied the inbox , but for one which was addressed exclusively to me…..
A click at the icon and the mail read…….
“ You are being relocated due to unforeseen requirement. You are supposed to report at the new location on Monday. Please collect the one way ticket for the train scheduled for today at 6.30pm…………….”

I Better Be A Failure

If success means letting go your future dreams and compromise with the present then i better b a failure............

If success means to compare myself with someone else instead of comparing to 100% then i better be a failure..........

If success means to be happy for beating some one instead of being sad for not reaching the goal then i better b a failure............

If success means to stop looking at possibilities after a relatively secure state is reached then i better b a failure.............

If success means to b happy with what m doing instead of looking for what i like to do happily then i better b failure.................

I better be a Failure ...............

.... At First Sight

The afternoon lunch at the cafeteria is almost a walk in a vegetable market. People walking by you with plates full of eatables just on the verge of jumping of it, trying to find the nearest chair to seat themselves, and in trying so crossing other men walking by, making the finest of the gymnastic moves , protecting the eatables from falling out of the plate. Only that I don’t have a plate with me yet, lest , I as well be making the moves happen.

To find the counter at that busy hour is a hunt for pearl in the deep sea. Had it not been an MNC, I guess a person like me would have never made it to the counter. Thanks to the Q that the employees follow , who otherwise never do , I got myself behind one of the fellow .

The first thing I did was to find my position in the execution list. Well , you got it right. the food never gets down the throat easily, unless a person is damn hungry. And after the heavy price you pay to get that crap, what better word can you find to explain the trouble you face in getting it eaten. Its why Execution. Well Voluntary can be added before it.

You have no choice either. If you are fan of MATRIX the movie, then remember what Oracle said “You are not here to make a choice, You have already made it, You are here to understand why you made it “. Ya I pretty well understood why I made it. I am damn hungry.

Well I was the 21st in the list and the Q moved really slow. The best thing to do at that moment is to find some stuff to entertain myself and I did the same. I started looking at the way people moved around stepping carefully to reach an empty place. Some secured the place for their mates insisting new ones who approached the place to move ahead as it was reserved. And the new ones trying to find new place to fix up for the hour and running around for another empty place. Its happens all the time . people stopping people from sitting , and people replacing people since the previous one is done with the meal. (The Matrix , Mind it).

My eyes quickly searched some face I could recognize who inturn would secure a place for me by the time I get the token for my execution. I ran out of luck as usual and there was not a single person I know. The stomach reminded me of my duty towards it and I soon left the search and brought my concentration to the Q. 4/5 to go and I got my hand into the pocket to get the change needed to get the crap I wanted to eat and……….. … Don’t worry , I had change , this is no suspense story . I always have enough to eat. ………… got my token , walked across to the counter escaping the hungry battalion that was coming face to face. Lucky to find the counter free, I put up the order and got the stuff.

That was simple, the real challenge starts when you turn back and see that the hall is almost packed up with hungry battalion and it’s no way you get a chair. I looked around for some time and there at one end after a couple of tables , I saw a fellow almost finishing his part of the crap. I ran to the spot which was already in the view of two more at a distance farther from where I was. I smiled back to them feeling the triumph of winning over their intensions. And even they smiled back. I dint get at first what the hell was wrong with them. As i looked back to the chair , alas! Another fellow reached it before me. I had no choice but for letting go without a fight and in a moments glace I found another chair getting vacant. I made a quick move and caught it. I searched for the 2 fellows to claim my part of the smile of triumph back. I wasn’t lucky even this time. They found place as well, probably just before me.

I cursed the place. Neither the food was right , nor the place. However I was too hungry to think of anything further. Filled up the spoon, and I was about to put into my mouth , that my eyes caught a glimpse of someone sitting 3 tables across the point I was in. it’s not usual that a glimpse at something stops the flow of thoughts that keep going though you mind. It’s certainly not usual that you start figuring out tips and tricks to get yet another of the glimpse or probably a little longer than a glimpse and at the same time avoiding any eye contact. It’s never ever usual that you forget that a mouthful is waiting to be gulped down the throat. Well. It did happen. All of it. Soon my stomach forgot its hunger. The brain neglected the full plate that lay in front. And the eyes made quick moves to find the one again. Hurdles came in the way, first a fellow looking for a chair; next the cleaner moving around with a bucket and a cloth in hand waiting for people to get up so that he can finish his part of job. Still my sight found way of them and straight to the table it was looking at. Yet again a glimpse. Little longer than the first but pretty clearer. I was dumb found. Almost forgot to take out the spoon of my mouth. And again a fellow came in the way. Just then ….

“hey ! when did u come !’ someone said at my back . but I never cared as I was expecting no one to disturb me at that moment. I never cared to even look back, and was just waiting for the fellow in the middle to move out.

There was a strong pad at my back. Friends, I don’t know how on earth they get the information that they drop just at the right time to peek in. No thought than this occupied my mind as I , agitatedly, looked back.

“When did you come !” same old question .

“Does it matter !” the words almost slipped out of my mouth but then I held them back.

“ 10 mins!” , I replied as I pointed to the empty chair that was on the next table.

“Should have called ?” was the next question as I was trying to resume my scrutiny.

”Leave me alone !” I was about to cry in distress. One fine lunch time after 2 weeks of suffering and here they were trying to spoil it as well.

“was hungry” I replied almost sarcastically ignoring what the words would sound like.

And as I moved my eyes back to the search location ,there was no one. I looked around desperately , but the one was long gone. Neither near the wash room nor at the entrance.

I was furious !, at the same time disappointed, irritated, agitated ,what not I was about to turn back and pour all my anger on to the fellow , but what I saw, made me back off.

The one was a friend of my colleague.

Well , once they finished the conversation , I said

“ Would you like to have some juice, the bill’s on me !”.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Drizzle .......

The black screen turned darker as I switched off the monitor out of fury at the 7th Abend (abnormal End) I got.

“A break…!” came to my mind, just the way it comes every 15 minutes.

But this time it was intense enough to move myself out of the grieving chair. It has been almost an hour that I stuck to it, which is quite unusual. I decided to get up before the chair raises any more cries of mercy.

Out of chair and once I swiped out of the doorway, immense freedom is what I experienced, freedom from the Abend’s that eat away half the day and yet never get resolved, from the black and green screen that sometimes turn blue confusing if its blue by choice or by chance, from the 100% full mailbox that keeps insisting to delete old mails, from the AC that start working at the exact time I never want it to work, off at rest of the times and from the untimely calls that makes the extension go ringing in the scariest possible tones, just when I get the best of the naps of a day. I finally felt I was in control of my life instead of the 17’’ screeen that smiles at my state every morning as I seat myself before it and every evening I eagerly wait to leave early, and I never could.

And to my surprise there were clouds all over the sky as I excitedly watched out of the window. Looking at the scary monitor all day I never know what the weather outside feels like. It’s only at the lunch time or at a tea break that nature shows its true state. Lest otherwise, be it a sunny afternoon or warm evening, it’s all the same at that one corner of the square, they call it cubicle I never knew why, where I sit.

Will it rain! Oh it should. The 45 degree heat is making throat go dry almost every 5 minutes. earth has already gone dry due to the 2 months long summer. It should rain.

And it started with countable drops at first turning itself to a heavy downpour for a few minutes. In no time it started to drizzle. A Hot tea accompanied by onion-pakoda is the best cuisine one can have at such a pleasant climate as this. And we were on our way to the cafeteria!

Hot tea was available but not the pakoda. So be it and we satisfied with whatever we got. It was not even an hour we had our lunch so there wasn’t any space left out for anything new anyway.

The cafeteria is building of 2 floors standing on a ground floor which has dormitory, stationary room, a clinic and a child care center. The steps from the first floor to the ground and aligned straight and go to a count of 50 around. Climbing down the stairs one would get feel of walking down a royal way. Kingly, (Queenly for girls …… no partiality).

We found a place to seat on the side wall of the staircase and started sipping the tea. It was still showering and I felt like waking in the rain. However the decency of the job reminded me of my age and I let go the idea. Soon the tea got finished and I searched around for a dustbin. Unable to find one I looked hither and thither and finding the place secure enough with no eye observing us, I dropped the paper cup by the wall.

As the showering turned to a downpour we found shelter at the same spot and waited standing at some 25th step of the staircase. There were couple of plants aligned all along the staircase and have grown sufficient enough to be called tree’s. Looking at the branch of one such tree I remembered my childhood and I quickly jumped to pull one of the nearest branches just to get the droplets, the leaves held, pour like a mini rain as we stood below it. My friend escaped my attempt to drench him, however I enjoyed the shower. I turned around to see his reaction, as he started to shout at me but …….

My world went numb for a few seconds …. There she was, peeping out of the window, smiling at my act…

Oh what a smile she had! So serine! So blissful! An angle she looked. I would do anything to prevent that smile from fading!

She hid herself by the wall I as looked straight to her eyes. I acted as if I wasn’t observing , seeing that she started peeping back again.

I jumped and caught another branch and there was a shower again. This time it was a little longer than before and I looked back just to find her burst into a laugh as she couldn’t stop herself with a smile.And I couldn’t turn myself away from that face!

Oh! What a smile. So divine, so innocent.

But the rain stopped. And my friend reminded me of the abend waiting to be resolved. With a heavy heart I turned back and moved to the office.

Once at the cubicle I turned the screen white and tried to fix the issue. As expected it abended and I hit the Enter harder, switched off the monitor and closed my eyes ……

The smile of the cute little 4 year old girl at the window of the Child Care Center below the cafeteria flashed on the walls of the eyelid, soothing my anguish.

Oh! What a smile. So pure! So natural!

A Walk By the Pavement

“Hello there …..! It’s not too late yet”

A familiar voice forced me stop the hurrying walk to work. Reluctantly, I turned to see where the voice came from. To my surprise, there was no one at my back to the farthest I could see.

Who could that be?

All I could see, was a trail of slums along the road till that entry to another lane from the highway, from where I emerged, and the huts beyond that extending till the sight lasts, but with no sign of anyone who could have given that call.

‘Must have been a hallucination….’ I thought & resumed the walk.

“Hello there …..! It’s not too late yet”, came the voice again. A bit louder this time.

I gave a pause. Looked around. What I could see was nothing different than what saw before. A long trail of slums, but something caught my attention this time…….

There was this little boy, of 2 or 3 years, naked down the waist. He could barely walk. What was evident was he was waiting for his mother to clean him up. He was particularly eager to get it done quickly as his mates called him to be quick to the game they played.

“Kids…… they are all the same….”, I took steps towards my destination. However the kid was still in my thoughts, I turned to see if his mother attended him. She was busy selling the grinding stone to a prospective customer.

A moment’s pause and I realized, that hammering which I heard every morning I walked that way, was not audible today.

The Grinding Stone…..

A week or little more than that, I remember seeing a piece of rock at that very spot, or someplace near around it I guess. And every morning I passed that way, I saw it was being given a shape. Patiently…Rhythmically…Systematically.

The carving was audible even before I took that turn onto the highway; it grew louder as I walked towards it. It would become loud enough, so much so that I feared if it would damage the eardrum. I would take quick steps past it, observing the expertise of the carving hand. And it lasted till I took another turn after 5 minutes of walk, dying out eventually.

Expertise it must be…. I remembered it was her husband that did the carving part.

And what I could see now is a fine piece of grinding stone with the finishing beautifully carved. It was particularly artistic and I am pretty sure it would capture anyone’s attention.

What an Expertise it must be….

’60 bugs is more than enough for that stone, only a fool would give 150’, the lady in red argued, rather aggressively.

My curiosity got levitated at their conversation. Though I would run into risk of getting bashing for being late, I made a choice to stay and listen.

‘Madam, it takes over a week to get one ready…” the lady on the selling end tried explaining. It does take a week, I knew that.

Meanwhile the boy who waited for her mother got impatient enough and ran back to his mates ………….

‘Kids… they are all the same…. Untidy, unconcerned ’

“So what, the stone is free that you get….!” The lady in Red declared.

The lady in RED, oh yes! , a keen look at her and it came to me, the striking similarity she shared with the lady in Blue the other day in the shopping mall.

The Grinder it was what she choose, and electric one.

She came, she saw, she bought, she left…… no words spoken, but for

‘What’s the warranty …… ?”

“SIX months”…..

Strange, I thought

’70 is last what I can give!”. The lady in Red said sarcastically.

“75 madam…..” I never noticed when she dropped to such a low price. She had no choice either.

She had to sell it by all means, I could see. People out here, did not have a fixed source of income. So every day they need to sell these stones to buy bread and butter. They are not a company. They do not have a brand name or a logo as such. I wonder if they even knew what all these terms mean.

Yet we bargain.

The 75 extra bugs, had the lady paid, would have lasted for another week or so for the family. A week of bread & butter. A week’s freedom from going on debt. A week of self reliance. Independence.

But now, the family must sell another stone to compensate the loss. Another customer. Another week’s wait. But we are into a generation where speed, comfort, ease is what matters. Courtesy, kindness, care come next on the list. To some, they don’t even appear on the list.

On the other hand, bargaining at a shopping mall becomes a matter of prestige we carry with the attire. Defame. Pity.

Halfheartedly, the mother picked up the Piece of Stone, or a masterpiece of the expert craftsman, and placed it carefully in the vehicle the lady in red was riding.

With the situation ending in with the negotiation, I resumed my walk, past the children in play, past those pile of stones, mostly irregular, which will be given a wonderful shape in the near future.

“A week’s meal for the family, in each of the stones,” I saw…..

…………

A sunny afternoon sometime in the next week……….

The birthday party was planned at a 3* restaurant……. Some place near around the slums.

As we slipped ourselves near the entrance from the highway… we were ambushed by a group of kids, for alms……. Most of them with torn or untidy clothes, some without footwear…….

There he was…… the boy, naked down the waist….desperate to get a penny or two from one of us….

‘it’s not too late yet, something must be done by each one of us to uplift the lives of our fellow beings….’

A week’s meal……….

An ounce of kindness……

An ounce of consideration…..

An ounce of humanity…….

Saturday, November 13, 2010

From Nowhere , To …………

………… it’s exactly 2 A.M. of 29th of September 2008…. Its usual time for me to be awake till... internet is always a problem in my room at NIT Calicut, where I am doing my M.Tech currently. I was fortunate enough to connect, and what my messenger showed is a pool of around 40 unread mails, most of them from the Madhumalancha Group. I remembered I requested to join the group recently and eventually was approved, but I forgot to check back if it was.

What is relevant is the thrill that is passing in my spine for the very idea of attending the School Day, the mails I went through added further fuel, and to quench the fire and get some sleep, I thought of penning down my flow of thoughts. I am leaving for Bodhan at 7 A.M today and a good night sleep is quite essential. But then every mail I read is sending a series of current to brain. The very idea that I am going to see all those who moulded me, into what I am today, sitting in a hostel room of one of the most prestigious institution in India. And what flashes in mind is the other hundreds like me, at various places covering the whole globe, and some in highest post of ones career , and some other’s who would be moulding another hundreds following the lines of the ones who designed them.

Yet the thrill continues. I still can feel a shivering from with in for the very idea of attending ……… chain of reactions has already started… a flow of thoughts ,rather a chaos ,I should say is building up. Memories fighting among themselves to get typed first. I can feel the heat. It’s in the thrill that’s passing in my spine.

I am going to see all those who moulded me into what I am today. The best of the GURU ‘S one can get. THE BEST mind it. The math teachers, who said “understand the problem; the solution will come flying all by itself”.

The English teachers, but for them, we would not be what we are. They gave us the tongue, not just to present ourselves in front of the world, but to WIN over it. BUT FOR THEM. this day would not have been a reality for me

The science teachers who taught the basics that govern our existence altogether and the laws that the whole world revolves around in the best way possible. A foundation was laid. The strongest. and here we are, standing high, erect, and confident.

The language teachers ,who made learning a fun, keeping every class as jolly as possible.

The thrill…………

I never appreciate the way our education system works on. Less of creative thinking and more of getting things BYHEART. From INTER onward I was told to know things, never to understand them. What was important was to grab as many marks as possible. (Unfortunately even at post-graduate level, people count the marks that a person gets and not the essence he gathered.). The only way out is to create a photocopy of the whole question and answers from previous year papers, that are available in the form of bound volumes (JNTU Bibles as they call in engineering these days) , least bothering of the concept hidden in what is being read.

I wondered why my teachers at school did not have previous paper sets prepared with them. I wondered why they took time in preparing the question paper again and again, year after year. Anyway they knew that they have to do it again, and they could have very well given the same paper, every year, then why, WHY?

………………. The VISION……….. yes, they had the vision. They knew they were moulding leaders, and not followers. they knew spoon feeding will only make us dumb heads. They knew, leaders need creative thinking and incomparable courage to fight an unforeseen disaster. They knew, even a sample question would break one step of our way to the heights of success. They knew, they were laying foundations, and a foundation needs to be flawless for the building to be strong. And knowing this ,they would spend hundreds of hours in preparing the assessment papers, correcting the scripts and then giving feedbacks (of course in the form of beating, but “No pain No gain”)

I worked with an engineering college for quite some time and I came to know how hard it is to prepare a genuine paper, and further correct the answer sheets , particularly the scripts of average(like me) and below average students (like I once was), who ,in trying not to loose marks , create their own theories and laws under the name of Ohm, Faraday , Ampere and Lyapnov. And was afraid to take the same subject again and teach the same thing ,and prepare a paper much similar and again correct another such set.(it’s a reason I quit the job ) Yet they corrected the scripts patiently , mostly precisely. Giving no chance ever to go back for re-correction (some times it does happen).

Now the feedback part….ya the beating for imperfection.(make note of the word please) No one would have questioned them for the poor performance of any of the student. Many of the parents were either uneducated or were least bothered. Yet , they never gave up in making the student realize and improve. Not a single occasion did I see anyone of the teachers , uninterested or less concerned about anyone .( but for some of us who were very stubborn ,I can be counted one among such). Now I feel ,the punishment was for not being perfect and not for failing to succeed. Do revive the previous statement , am 90% sure you would have simple read it as just another statement. But it means “a world lot “to ME( an average student, who had had a very nice and scheduled dose ).

Yet the thrill …….

Am afraid I’ll end up writing a book if I continue any further. Still the fight in my brain is on (my memories boss, they are still many ). Its 3.45 A.M. I’ll try to gather some sleep ,calming the thoughts.(which is highly impossible).

The Beginning

At some point in time or the other there , certainly, has to be Beginning ...............
I guess this is the one for me ...................