Achcham Undu- Achcham Undu!!

Its rarely that I take the initiative to book movie tickets. I do it out of extreme emotion, and ya may be when I'm pmsing. This was one such circumstance too. I was compelled to want to watch a tamil movie. The one running at the hip' multiplex was the title of this post.

Well, I don't usually take the trouble of reading reviews before I watch a movie. I do not like to bias my mind. But really, it's no such fancy thought.

The movie I'd say was good. Very good.

Its cosy and tart, with the perfect humour,that does not make it embarrassing while watching with a male counter part. None of that indecent, sex oriented comedy, that has brought me to loathe tamil cinema, dominated by the prototyped, cliched slapstick humour. This one was good, with a fair dose of romance between the hero and heroine, a married couple settled in New Jersey, with one daughter, a son on the way, a beautiful home and a snazzy convertible.

When they decide to paint their basement, they unknowingly, hire the services of a paedophile painter, who abducts and kills children. Their adorable daughter is his next target. And the movie is centred around his attempt to get her, and their escape. What I also loved about this movie is that they decide to heed their sixth sense, which continuously, sends out warning signals.

Although the story is not gory or bloody or violent, I let out a squeal of fright, some where midway where the scene does get you on the seat's edge.

It culminates, on a good note with the happily ever after end, and some irksome facts about child sex abuse around the world. I appreciate the movie in all earnest, and recommend that every parent and child watch this movie, to come to terms with the real world.

What I did miss, was my dear 'H', who is out of town, and butter popcorn and coke, which I skipped, thanks to the little guilt worm, which has now caught up with me.

Cheers!!!

The Guilt Worm's Appearance

One morning as I lazily strolled into my office complex trying my best to fake repentance for being late yet again, and trying even harder to appear as if in a hurry, I glanced drooling at the attractive display board of a french cafe that seemed to have opened recently. "La Boulangerie" I read aloud, in a fake and probably very incorrect french accent. And so that cafe became a delightful item on my to-do list.

I went there yesterday. A friend and I in fact. And I've been trying to lose weight. Thinking of that, I get the feeling I've been doing that since I was in my mother's womb. No. May be I'm wrong. May be I died fat in my previous birth. I'm still working on it. Mind you.

Ok. Detour. Apologies.

The stuff on display was so inviting. I did not care to think I was never going to achieve the feat of being able to see my

toes, without bending over. So we ordered. Not garishly. Just sensibly. One at a time till we reached satiety. And went right past that. I think I've got a rule in friendship. I only make friends with those who love food. We almost always catch up over food. And we never order diet cokes or salads.

When we finished I felt a little guilt worm tugging at my heart. And so did she (my friend I mean). But it did not matter. There was reason to celebrate ( and when there's no reason, we're eating cos we're depressed. It's a conspiracy if you did not note.)

The worm now has my whole heart in its claws. But i give myself time. Four days. I'm finally settling down. I 'm going to do something about the excess kilograms. And I certainly don't want this to be my dying wish.

Even more of me!!

Today has been a ridiculous day for the following ten reasons:(don't blame me for this text book style. I've just been reading too much of it lately)

1. My granny and me did not say a word to each other, had our meals independently although we were not in a fight. This would have otherwise fallen under the head of 'cold war'. But since there was no 'war' per se, I'd just say, things were cold.

2. Speaking of the cold, the rhino virus seems to have tracked me down, just when I thought I had outwitted it and escaped. My nose seems to vie for the spot of water body with largest number of tributories.

3. I learnt a bit about mergers and amalgamations. Apparently the terms mean the same under the Companies act 1956, but the Income Tax Act, just got smarter! Its distinguishes the two.

4. In a long time now, I stopped checking my phone every ten seconds to see if there was a missed call or message. I've improved from what I was- there was a time when calls even from HSBC bank call centre were welcome. That provided the only proof that my cell phone performed the basic funtion of ringing!

5. I have not given my Activa a bath. Its something I've been procrastinating for days! Thank God automobiles don't suffer from body odour!

6. I had tomato flavoured top ramen with olives. The combination is not bad. But I did not find a fork, and had to adjust with a spoon. I learnt that using my fingers would have been better.

7. I can't decide if right now, I'm in a good mood or bad. Trust me thats how jobless I tend to become, even with nearly 2500 pages of heavy duty reading to do, before my upcoming exams!

8. I'm bored as hell of my clothes, half of which might dupe the census survey board to classify me in the BPL range, the other half which have become the bone of bearing the brunt of my hatred towards tailors in Chennai, and the third half(ya ya...I know, this is not a math lesson!) which makes me miss my tailor back home!!

9. I think I killed a lizard while sweeping my home today. I did not do it on purpose. I'm thankful, that the lizard is such an underrated reptile. Imagine if I had killed a crocodile instead....

10. I've been thinking of buying a camera. Extremely inspired by this. But I figured, I'll restrict myself to writing things which make no sense. There is no point offending reality. It never gets offended( and they call me thick skinned!).

Net Profit from Advertisement..Finally!!!

Its been one of those week ends that I was waiting for. And when it came, it brought with it a spectrum of emotions and also gave me the time to revel in each one of them that actually makes me feel that this week end particularly lasted for 8 days. But that, in no way deters my week end from being any more desirable that it was before it actually began. Well, I'm not exactly trying to prove the Pythagoras Theorem here, but there is still a point I'm trying to make which will probably be made by the time we get to the last word of what I'm writing.

First of all I'd like to tell you, vodafone does not as promised, follow you everywhere you go. Because it does not even follow me from my home to the conference room at my work place, (which is in the heart of the capital city of Tamil Nadu, leave alone the home of some monkey in a Godforsaken tropical rainforest in Zaire) where if in my blasted luck I should get a phone call on my cell phone, that I choose to answer, I have two options:
1. yell into the phone, which will in fact defeat the purpose of Graham Bell's invention, and will instead make me audible to the person who has called without the aid of the modern day invention.
2. make me the author of Meghadhootam (part 2) that will necessitate sending a message through the blowing winds and the passing clouds to the person trying to reach me frantically to ask if i want an add on credit card from citibank.

Secondly, Dove range of hair care products, which I purchased with a greater amount of expectation than I'd probably have from my prospective partner, does not result in my hair feeling so beautiful, that I want to keep touching it. The question remains as to whether my hair is a challenge to Dove or Dove is a challenge to my hair or whether both are so unfit that my hair could serve as an alternative to scotch brite.(I need to yet find an alternative use to Dove shampoo. That makes my hair feel more useful than the Rs150+Rs150 - shampoo+ conditioner of darling dearest Dove. Or whether that is just a lack of my creativity, I cannot tell.)

Thirdly let me tell you Bournvita never gave me the 'tan or man ki shakti' or Boost was never ever the 'secret of my energy' , that kept me awake during the exams. Usually, it was the fear, that a 'best friend' would get more marks than me, that kept me awake. As I grew older it was the caffiene content in coffee or tea that kept me awake to complete the most boring 'types of winding up of companies' that constituted my Corporate law syllabus.

I'm not trying to prove that advertisements are a farce and should be banned as contributing to misleading majority population or something as fanciful, that would make the conservative school elect me as their next leader. The only thing I'm trying to tell you is that how often I've been so let down by these advertisements, like the ulta perk, i purchased with so much expectation and then cursed myself for breaching my diet for something as bad tasting as that. The list can go on.

But come on!!!I did not take the effort of writing this for this stupid purpose. The reason i'm writing is that just yesterday, I actually was benefitted from, I forget the name of that guy, you know, the one who dances around on the Dominos advertisement - Thirty minutes, nahi tho freeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! I don't live on a staple diet of pizzas. But hunger, and laziness to cook up a meal, and we resorted to the phone number of Dominos pizza. We placed our order at 9.12p.m. simple - 2 medium margharita pizzas with olives on top. I'm not sure if the guys actually went to Italy to get the olives or to switzerland to get the cheese or whereever else to get the flour for the base, because when the Pizza came at 10.18p.m. we were more than ready to exercise our fundamental right. Believe me, I have greater difficulty in remembering that the freedom of movement is a fundamental right as per Article 18 (thats the wrong Article? 15? 14?)of the Constitution of India, than remembering the - 30 minutes, nahi tho free rule.

We had called and reinforced our right. But for those of you who like me do not know, there is an indemnity clause which restricts liability to Rs.300. Anyway we ended up paying only Rs.100 for a 400 Rs. bill, and the net profit of Rs.300 atleast covers up the loss I incurred in the purchase of Dove's Extra Moisturising hair care products which did not moisturise at all.

Yet again...

It’s the eve of my 24th birthday today. Another year has gone by me, and as I stop to take stock, as if my life were a repository of inventory, I see yet again that there are some things that I should carry ahead from this year and many things that I should leave behind as burden that would only negatively affect my productivity.

Suddenly my life till now seems like insignificant baggage, though I have lived close to a quarter of a century. I stand and look at it as a man with excess baggage would, critically analysing what he needs, what he wants and what he should leave behind.

With the passing of this year I leave behind many things, people and intangibles – mainly a wide spectrum of emotions. I leave behind those whom I would have loved to hold on to – wonderful people who I was probably destined to be associated with only until then. I leave behind a trail of moments that gave me immense pleasure, and those that simply wrecked me. I leave behind essentials which probably are never meant to be mine. I don’t exactly know, whether it is appropriate to say that I leave these all behind, or if simply I have lost it all. I always take pleasure in the fact I fight till the end, and therefore I can say with a certain amount of confidence that I have not been careless or reckless. There have been those situations in which extrinsic factors contributed to the brutal change in the direction I had chosen to follow. I leave behind that direction as well.

But the last year has been my debutant year of financial independence and of professional identity. It was a year in which the fundamental right to the freedom of movement was acquired by me in letter and spirit. Incidentally, it also gave me my first flight journey. It has been the year that suddenly made me more of an adult than I was at 21 or 22 or 23. It gave me a special designation, a responsibility and a different playground. It was in this year that something really dawned on me. I came to understand what I stood for, or rather what I would stand for. My exposure to many things came this year, and one of that was Vishaka Hari. What a performer!!! What also I carry ahead are a few people I met and who have stuck on. What I specially love to carry are those who have been with me over the years, and continue to be with me.

I don’t know if I am particularly looking forward to tomorrow. I am not even expecting a surprise. In fact I don’t think I know of any one who would care to plan one for me. I don’t even know if that would be a thumb’s down for me. In fact I don’t even know if that matters.

I don’t know what to expect the coming year. But I sure have a list of things that I want. For one thing, I want proof that nice things happen to nice people, and not the opposite, because all of the last year I only saw the nice things happen to the mean people. And all my ‘nicety’ had the last laugh!! Last year also saw what I call the phenomenon of ‘lateral expansion’, thanks to the adipose tissue enlargement. I have been meaning to work on that for a long time. Honest to God, I have. But when sugar and candy beckon so lovingly, when it’s the perfect solution for a bad mood swing or the perfect medicine for a broken heart(?), there’s no way I can turn down such a juicy offer.

I stand yet again at a new thresh hold, with a lot of inspiration and aspiration. I think I’m ready to face the winds yet again. I don’t mean to be cynical, as I’m often misunderstood to be. I’ve unpacked and repacked, and I’m set to go.

Memories in Pune....

In the last few days, I have missed the city that was witness to the years of my most significant evolution. The city - which shaped me, my dreams and may be even a large part of my destiny. I entered that city, fresh from school, to kick start my legal education, and spent five long years in the city that did not seem even half as long. Pune gave me some of the best moments of my life, and I wish I could have captured them all into a capsule. But leave alone capsule, I have not even frozen those moments into the stills of optical science’s greatest contribution ever- photography!!! But I won’t brood because those moments are so vivid that I don’t really require the assistance of science to keep my spirits high. My memory space is adequate, and as of now penning this down serves the purpose.

Certain things and places are dearest to me and as an ode to all of them, here goes:

The railway station:

Being at a train station always gives me the jitters. I had to worry about whether my I was carrying my ticket, whether it was booked for the right day and date, whether I had reached the station at the right time. I verified by pulling my ticket out a million times and then put it back only to check for it again, as if mysteriously, it will disappear into platform ‘twelve and three quarters’ or a stray magic wand would have changed the date and time printed on the face of it. I also nurse fears about whether I had packed the necessary things, my books especially, if I was going on study leave and whether I will be able to enter the train with all my things, though my luggage was never out of the lines of control. And last, but not the least thanks to the sleazy men that only God knows why He really created, whether I will be able to board the train with most of dignity in place.

This was a place that brought me contrasting emotions depending upon my purpose of being there. As I was leaving for home, it was a special feeling, I looked forward to going home, where I would be the celebrated iconic figure. Self praise is one thing, but when I hear my mother bragging about the university rank I recently secured, or the moot my team recently won or the internship I had secured with a law firm, it made me feel like God Himself. Those are the times when I choose to completely concur with the theory of Aham Brahmaasmi (I am the Brahman). Not to mention the times when I return to Pune, so alone at the station, so unwelcome in the city, so uncared for, yet where I will survive and be King!

The auto wallahs deserve a special auto ratna award. They will, except for an errant few, run on the standard route and will charge the appropriate sum, unlike most of their brethren in Madras, where like a parallel to the world wrestling federation runs the biggest farce in terms of auto fares!!!

Kamala Nehru Park

This place has a fond space in my heart, as being the park where most of my attempts to shape up took place. I have run, jogged, walked and stretched in the precincts of this spacious garden, and watched the retired couples brace their lives post sixty with such hearty enthusiasm. The naariyal pani (tender coconut) seller outside became the significant provider of the only healthy food I consumed. Then were the numerous ‘chat’ shops a friend I always munched over, the kachchi dabeli stall which sold the second best kachchi dabeli in the city and the sweet little Dattatreya Temple, whose presiding deity became the answerer of most of my prayers for good marks, winning moots and ultimately having secured a good job. Then was the mithai dukaan around the corner…Am racking my brains to remember the name…was a R.M. Ghadke and sons if I remember right that sold Pedas and displayed them so well that I was mostly drooling at the pedas and most often than not gave into my desire and nullified the effect of my exercise. Soon, I discovered a little lane that turned in left so that I could avoid the fatal attraction.

Walks in lanes of Prabhat Road

I have a theory I often share. If you are bored, there are few things you can do: go for a movie/ go shopping/ eat out. But when you are bored and penniless, there is even less that you can do, and one of that is just what Kanksha and I did. We almost had the map of the bylanes of Prabhat Road by the back of our hands, walking round and round and round discussing everything under the sun. And if it had rained the trees formed a wet, green canopy above us, and the damp roads and the humid weather!!! Ah that was life….

Kaka Halwai and Chitale Bandhu Mithai Wale

Well, two sweet shops that rule the world!!! Kaka Halwai was the greatest factor for my never losing weight, and Chitale Bandhu was the reason my parents looked most forward to my home coming visits, when I would never fail to carry their favourite Bhakarwadi. If you, dear reader don’t know what I’m talking about, I would suggest that you make a visit to the city solely for the purpose, as no amount of my explanation will do the sweet-tangy-salty savoury any justice.

The numerous Rasvanthi Grahs

It essentially means juice centres and in the context of Pune, refers to the umpteen sugar cane juice centres in the city, which will amaze you with the absence of a single fly. A tall glass is simply divine, and for those who have the taste, a dash of lime and ginger provides a variant from the standard. Priced nominally at 5 Rs.- 6 Rs for a glass, and offering health and taste simultaneously, it is adequate reason why a true nationalist should start an “anti foreign cola” campaign. That brings me to:

Lakshmi Road:

Of course, the city of Pune has all the features of a modern city, with shopping malls mushrooming all over. But to pamper the true shopper in you, visit Lakshmi Road. The variety of trinkets, earrings, hair clips, bands, bangles, hand bags, chappals…You can go there almost every day, and yet not be bored and get lost in the lanes of where I discovered paradise. The splash of colour in the bed spreads and curtains on display is a sure shot cure to a bad mood swing. There is also a shop which name I don’t remember…which sells the world’s best plastics, tubs, buckets - all shapes and sizes. That’s where Kanksha and I spotted the enchanting- white with black flowered dinner set. God!!! We would have both agreed to get married to any donkey, if the dinner set came as a gift or dowry!!

The Rainy Mornings:

When class is at 7.15 a.m. and its been pouring without a break for the last 4 days, when the roads are water logged, and the leaves of the trees are dripping, when the umbrella is not sufficient shelter and when the thought of water now makes you sick, we still needed to get to class at 7.15. A cuppa chai at the canteen after the first class, or the tapri wallah over a warm smoke and conversation for my friends, and over simply conversation for me, was what woke us up after the first lecture, through which most of us continued our sleep.


The Zillion quaint eateries:

Actually, I would have to dedicate entire chapters to the zillion quaint eateries we ate at. But for the sake of brevity:

Vohuman Café(spelling mistake?)
The world’s best cheese omlet. I only managed to eat there a couple of times, because the guilt of being a Brahmin and consuming an egg created waves of high frequency disturbances in my brain. So the refrain became better that the indulge.

The Nameless Kachchi Dabeli Wallah on the corner turning of J.M.Road
Now this has a story as well. It goes that I had the debit card of a bank which only had two A.T.Ms in the entire city of Pune. The nearest was about two kilometres from my hostel. So if I ever needed money, Kanksha and I would embark on a project- to walk and walk back. Why we walked and decided not to take a bus or auto is a question I would answer in Kansha’s voice: because walking rids thighs of cellulite!! But as we talked and walked, the combination of our hunger and the inviting aroma, would beckons us to enjoy the Dabeli there. Sigh!!!memories….

Fantasy
Fantasy was the owls flocked. And the nocturnal binge in strawberry thick shake was the factor that egged on the non-alcohol-drinkers to be awake at those ungodly hours. This place is shut tight in the day time, as the owner believes in catering to the niche population of owls that did not have sclerotic vision.

German Bakery
The biggest attraction at Koregaon Park, apart from the park and Osho’s ashram German Bakery is a way of communicating to the vegetarians of the world that the cause of vegetarianism is totally worth and completely rewarding. The desserts here are worth a life time and you could also chance upon a hot doped greek lost in the figments of his imagination.

Chaitanya Dining
The place where I was exposed to the world’s best paranthas, the world’s best rajma chawal and the world’s best dal maakhni. And if I forget the Shahi Lassi I can well be convicted for a crime that may be even the President would never grant clemency for. The large glass is a challenge and a bigger one for me than resisting the melting butter on my hot Parantha that Kanksha always eyed disapprovingly.

Peppinos:
Kanksha called it Poppinos and that makes it sound more appetising than its real name. the place where I had juice of the combination of apple, guava and banana, not to forget the Naachos with cream cheese…. Am sure hungry….


Anand Bakery
Again an olden-golden bakery that sold cream rolls and other snacks that are worth a life time. The biscuits were a marvel too. Biscuits remind me of:


Shrewsbury at Kayani
Seems to be handed down to Pune from the Colonial era, the Shrewsbury biscuits are actually worth a special birth. The shop will shut at the stroke of eight.(or six?) and even if you go down on your knees pleading, there will be no mercy. I told you, it’s worth another janma.

Am sure you must be wondering why every soul in that city of bliss is not over weight. Well that’s a question even I have pondered over, rather pointlessly. Pune is like a game of trasure hunt with little secrets waiting to be discovered. A city of convenience, of absolutely no pretensions. More so a city where life is at its best or can I say best ‘est’?

Loved and Lost...

Most pleasures are foregone with the passage of time. What gives that special adrenalin rush today is replaced tomorrow. Sometimes voluntarily and sometimes involuntarily. I completely acknowledge that this is the most boring way to open an essay on the topic of pleasure. But I cannot but help sigh at those little somethings I’ve lost as time galloped past me, and all that bottled up negativity may be the cause of this poor start, which I humbly request my reader to excuse me for.

Thanks to the end of my dependency, I have blessed myself with something that in effect is more detrimental, than developmental. I even feel a pang of guilt about referring to it as a necessary evil, because it in fact is not so necessary after all. Well all this build up is not to unravel some 9th wonder of the world. Nine, being the choice because that would make it more wondrous than the 8th , which is in effect is superlative to the 7th. To break the suspense, the object of all this melodrama is my newly acquired vahana, Sanskrit for vehicle. Duh!!! The build up was not worth it. Was it? And to top the disappointment let me clarify that I’m not even referring to a snazzy Lexus or a breathtaking 400c.c bike. Beginnings are humble they say, and mine completely adheres to the law (for once!), but that does not have any effect in terms of camouflaging my pride. Well if my sweet Ganheshji could so proudly flaunt his little mouse, I think nothing in the world can snatch me of my right in being pompous about my Black(and ttchch..slightly dented already!!!) Honda activa.

Well, now that the protagonist of my story has been successfully launched, I can move on to how I nearly I ran, or rather rode into a whizzing auto. And you, dear reader, must appreciate my humility in admitting that the fault was completely mine. But behind this averted catastrophe is a story of the past.

The past – when I was still a pedestrian, who had to wait at the zebra crossings to cross the road, the one who had to often slip into the role of a self assumed traffic police to make it alive to the other side of the road. The times when I could stop open mouthed and wide eyed at a woman with appalling make – up or stare fondly at the doggie at the window of a plush car, or gape at the sky wondering if it would rain today, or indulge in a conversation with my alter ego, or stop and stare at the display window of a shop that had branches almost in every city, was in the least a special attraction, yet for no reason excited me to know that it was going to come up in my neighbourhood, or to stand and smell the scent of the roses in the garlands in the flower market, or to swear loudly in English that was never understood by some vagabond who passed a remark that I assumed had to be lewd or just to watch the faces of the other pedestrians and commuters twitch with expression as they engaged in a conversation either with themselves or with the invisible person over the wires or the wireless blue tooth(wonder what made it a tooth and that too blue!!) of the cell phone. Walking gave me a part of the day with myself. To come to terms with my day that was closing in. It allowed me to look around and absorb a part of the world I lived in.

I still have not outgrown that habit, which is the reason for the possible collision. A house had been decked with lighting- a decorated drive way- a playing band. A wedding? An engagement? A party? What was it? I had to know, and in all my inquisitivity about what was happening or going to happen in the life a stranger, I was blissfully unaware of the auto honking at me, trying to distract me from my distraction. And so it had happened.

But this does not mean that all is lost. I enjoy scooting around the city on two wheels. I love the wind on my skin. I love the symbol affixed on my vehicle that announces that I’m a lawyer. I love being able to reach my work place without incurring the wrath and curse of the auto wallahs. There are many things I love, yet many others I’ve lost.

Goodbye...

There are some people I cannot bear to see go. I cannot just stand there and wave a cheery good bye and hug and kiss in the modern style, whilst advising the other to ‘take care’. It was something that had become more habitual than meaningful. Many times the people who tell you that, will definitely not be the ones around you when you really need the ‘care’. Yet, the ‘muaah’ ‘muaahs’ on either side of the cheek bear a close semblance to motherly love, care and compassion.

Having said that I should admit that I am one of the worst ‘bye’ say‘ers’ in the whole world. For I don’t exactly implement the hug and kiss gesture, but will stand there and look and if you would care to notice, you would notice my battle with my tears. I am a law graduate, and have been tutored to learn the skills of separating ‘law’ from ‘fact’. Still, when it comes to the ‘goodbye’ word, I feel like a scrambled egg, the white and the yellow, all mixed up. Someone sang that ‘goodbye’s the hardest word to say’ and if he came alive before me even once I would definitely hug him and kiss him and tell him that he could not have been more correct.

I hate to go, and to let go. Given the opportunity I would really love to keep the favourite people of my life, around me in close proximity and accessibility. But since that is hardly plausible, I am repeatedly forced like today to pack my loved one(mind you I have no issue in using the word, although it sounds a tad mushy) into an auto and then run back home into the bathroom letting myself loose, now that there is no obstacle in the way of my emotion. For a long time after they have left I will brood, an occasional tear welling up in the corner of my eye, wishing that the two days could have been slightly longer.

If this is the outcome of a temporary good bye, one can easily fathom the ‘goodbyes’ of finality. When I know there is never going to be a next time. I vouch for the fact that those are the worst, and when it has been accelerated by facts and circumstances that are simply beyond one’s control, it will have the same effect as a death by slow poisoning. (Indeed I have never experienced it to draw the parallel, but what do they call it? Literary license?) If it were in my control, I am sure I would definitely nail the person, without hurting him at all, of course, to the spot he currently occupied so as to prevent his going. But these are only wishes I can dream of, being sure without an aorta of doubt that it will never come true.

So I have had my little ‘dramas’ at places of all sorts, which I shall not publicly announce in my own self interest. Notably, I have been involved in these performances ever since I was a child, and age has not exactly contributed in simplifying things for me. The people I have met, liked and loved (and I don’t mean it in strictly the romantic sense) most often know how much they’ve meant for me. I do not however know if they understand the pain I’ve associated with the word. I relive the little moments I have spent with them. It will be always be a fresh bunch of flowers. To all of them with whom I am in touch and out of, for reasons we know and don’t, all I can say is a hearty ‘miss you’. And I mean it!

I Am Not My Master

Today was a usual morning, except for one thing that made it unusual, but even that was usual. I was battling with something, for now I will call it the desire to wake up. To me it was an ungodly unearthly hour, an hour when my sleep is the deepest and the weather outside is really lovely – a time that is so virgin, untouched by sound, smoke and severity. A time I believed that every one should spend doing they love most, and I was doing just that.

In the name of convenience or whatever it is, people have begun to assess a thing’s value in terms of the number of varied uses it can be put to. One such ordinary example is the mobile phone which is even more versatile than Kamalahasan in Dasavatharam, performing ten different roles. It doubles up as a watch, calendar, calculator, alarm, radio, camera, computer, MP3 player, torch light, route indicator, play mate, and in the ultimate analysis even becomes the soul mate to the lonely loner, who apart from his cell phone is quite alone indeed. Phew!!! Who said Babel inspired Kamalahasan? I have sufficient reason to think the cell phone did.

And it was precisely this modern day addiction that became my strongest rival each morning. Graham Bell might probably think he would have made a greater contribution to man kind by not inventing the telephone, and I tend to agree with him. Well after a great deal of playing and replaying the ring tones on my handset, I selected the least annoying one, lest I wake up with a frown each morning. Left to me, I’d say that one should wake up, and not be woken up.

This morning was no different. The alarm went off as usual at 6.30, and I turned it off. Just last night I had told myself that I should wake up and go for a walk in the morning. My body gets almost no exercise, given the work pressure at office. I rarely even stand up from my seat to get a good stretch. So this was a routine promise I made every night. The promise was to myself- by me to myself. The two are the same, aren’t they? Me and myself. Well prima facie yes, but evidently not.

And that was what made this morning out of the ordinary. I commanded myself. “Wake up!” I was almost screaming within, emanating a higher frequency than even the milk cooker which threatened to drive me deaf each day with its high pitch whistle, and which I believe was the sole cause for my grand mother’s deafness. Well I was ordering myself, chiding myself, then coaxing, then pleading, then threatening and went through a metamorphosis of emotions before I simply drew the rug over me ears, buried my head deeper into my pillow, and slept.

What strikes me is that I am unable to implement a command that comes from within. I usually have issues in complying with directions from my parents. “ Oil your hair”, “avoid junk food”, “study hard”, “wake up early in the morning and study”, “drink a glass of milk each night before you sleep”. These statements irritated me, when they came as instructions from an external source. But this was no different. I had definitely wanted to wake up. I had definitely wanted to lose weight. I had genuinely wanted to try to cut my phone bill. But the ultimate outcome of wanting it from within, pitted against instructions I got seemed no different. I did not satisfy either.

I have a strong belief in the concept of ‘will’. I think it can achieve even the impossible. I thought that ‘will’ controlled the outcome of most of my actions and efforts. But it dawns upon me that even ‘will’ is controlled by some other force, which in my ignorance I am incapable of perceiving.

My thoughts went on a little bit more. When even my own will does not influence my own actions, how easily I had expected it to control another’s actions. How stupidly I assume the whole world should play by my rules, live by my standards, meet my expectations. I am not even my own master. I am a slave to something or someone I am not even aware of.

Questions, they rise and fall,
They zip past, they crawl,
They fly, they float,
They sizzle, they soak.
Suddenly light, then for days at end
I live in a blackening den,
I surface for a momentary breath,
And then make my home the sea’s depth,
I know not truth from false,
I know not the devils dance,
I know not the angels sweet face,
I know nothing, I am dazed.

Glimpses...

I caught a glimpse of her from across the road. She was sitting in an autorickshaw, lips moving as if in prayer, but her facial expression continually changing to confirm that she was engaged in a conversation with herself. Through the passing traffic, the noise, the dust, the smoke, smelly pedestrians in the humid summer heat of Madras, there was little I could notice. But, having a world of time before the signal turned green for pedestrians my eyes were rather riveted on noticing her. She could have been pretty. There was plenty of scope for that. But her lovely curls were combed back with an excess of sticky oil, and tied at the back. She must have been tired, but through the distance between her and me, there was not much room for details. She sat holding her laptop case as if she was clinging on to the last remnants of her life occasionally checking to see if the signal had given a go. She did not seem to be hurry. She had stopped her conversation, and was looking distant, chin held high in the air, as if she was teaching herself to be brave. And I had been nearer I had a strong feeling that I would have been able to see her expressive eyes well up, and if I had been even more proximate I might have even been able to catch a drop of her tear before it fell to the floor.

I wondered what her worry could be. The signal had turned green for both of us, and it was time for us to move. But I still wondered what the tears could have been for. To me it felt like she was losing a part of herself with each precious drop…how much more of her had gone?

I checked my own phone for the time. With the coming of the mobile phone I never felt the necessity to wear a wrist watch. Back home my grandmother had always looked at my bare hands each day as I left for work, staring rather disapprovingly. I did manage to purchase a pair of gold bangles as a respectable investment, but never got around to adorning myself with it. The time was closing in on seven, the sun almost down leaving the city like a pre-heated oven. I was in no particular rush, as I did not think I had to put in effort to push the globe by a few inches. Things had been rushing past me, faster than the seemingly slow traffic driven by impatient drivers. Everyone seemed to be in a great hurry, as if they had Cindrella’s dead line to meet. I could not fathom what they were racing towards. My own life was racing past me. It was eight months since I had joined my first job, my prize possession. I had acquired it of my own. And I had relished every moment since I walked into the impressive building on Nungambakkam High Road. But the days rolled into weeks, then months and now my day had become rather mundane. I even took the same route home everyday.

The day had been tiring and as I neared home I had to sing aloud to keep myself awake. Soon night would fall, followed by the rising sun. It amazed me as to how without an effort, the entire globe went a full circle.

INSPIRED....

See I feel a sense of achievement right now, a sense that I did not even have when I got two marks more in math in the class 12 board exams than the girl the math teacher expected to score a centum. Imagine if she had scored a centum, then what my score would have been! I would have created history in the records of the Central board of secondary education. But fortunately or unfortunately, that was not to be, and I had to make do with creating a record in the history of my technological advancement.

Truthfully, I’d have been happier off with just pen and paper. Mind you I have accepted change enough to think that feather and ink are too complicated a way of writing (not to mention my acquired fear of birds and feathers).

When irony strikes, it strikes in a way that makes things all the more ironical. I bought a laptop in November 2007, and did a great job of maintaining it without even a fingerprint until recently. One fine day, I read an old friends blog, and decided that even I had amazing talent which I should not waste. And so I decide to utilise my talent at the cost of using my laptop, which is going to depreciate in value anyway. I did enough research to get an internet connection. I finally got one based on cable. I wish to believe I am possessed with all the information I ought to have. After all the right to information has become a fundamental right, and one to which I dedicate most of my working time. And so I asked the fellows marketing it a million questions about the product they were selling, though I really did not understand much of the speed details they were giving me. 256kbps sounded like a good figure, and more fun than a 1000kbps…ummm..that would become 1 mb right? See I am improving…And they gave me answers politely enough not to scoff at the time capsule in which I was stuck.

Despite my clear instructions explaining to them that they should not come to do any installation work during the convenient hours of the day, in order to avoid my grand mothers growing inquisitivity about what really the internet is,(she kinda thinks its like alcohol- its immoral whether you do it before 18 or after) they still landed up exactly when I told them not to. But they managed to do the work under her prying eyes. Poor thing she must have thought it as bad as bringing an egg into a good Brahmin household, but see technology seems to have had its effect on even her.

We then set to the task of finally having the internet on my laptop. I’m sure even she (my laptop) feels like a complete woman now, make up et all. Must have felt so barren without the world wide web accessible to her. Everyone speaks about downloading movies and videos and games and music. Ha!!! guess what my first download was? Not such a tough question after all. It was a phokat anti virus package, and that’s what gave me the inspiration to write this, even though I don’t know how to type, without searching for the keys( so the inspiration must have been considerable). Which moron said that money was of great value? He should have met me. He would be amazed at how I manage to be inspired by the worthless…ahem…I stand corrected…Priceless, it is. But ah!!! the download complete window on my screen, felt like it was extending its hands out to give me a trophy in appreciation. I had done it!!!