The Don Quixote!

"Madam! I want a leave tommorrow!"



"Why, what happened?


"My friend is getting married. He and his girlfriend have eloped, and I am helping them out."


Babu was this character I came across while working in this small time business after college. He was our office boy, cum receptionist, cum delivery boy, cum office administrator, cum cleaner and much more. It usually never happened that you told him something and it didn't happen. However, like a chinese gadget he could ditch you at some crucial moments every now and then. But then the novelty of services that you get for the price at which it comes, you overlook the reliablity quotient of your chinese gadget.


In first few days itself I saw he was running the whole office administration in his own way. The coffee machine vendor, the EPBX maintenance, the AC maintenance guys, everyone was in his pocket. The cash strapped, near-its-death organization that I was working for, had not paid vendors for 6-7 months and still these guys came and worked. All thanks to Babu. You would think he must be this real street smart guy, glib with words but sorry to dissappoint you. Maybe people just couldn't say 'no' to him.


Our Babu was this lanky guy, with a freestyle moustache covering the upper lip. A strong smelling oil was put on the task of keeping the thick wavy hair in place, but the oils gave up by evening. He wore his office uniform which his mom washed daily with oodles of soap I guess, 'coz an unsuspecting guy would assume he was using Rin (Detergent cake in India) as deodorant. There was a tattered polythene bag he carried everyday, everywhere and protected as if it was his life's saving. He claimed that he had passed 12th grade. We never bothered to verify this claim, because if he had, those teachers need to face a firing squad. He was about 20-21 years of age I guess. His Hindi, was picked up right from the stevedores of the bombay port. He couldn't speak English for nuts but whenever he was jobless you would find him sitting with the english newspaper trying to put sense into the faintly familiar alphabets from his schooldays. Ocassionally you would hear him flaunt some English words over the phone, caring two hoots for the muffled giggles that followed after that.

Out of his many quirks, talking and walking in english were his pet dreams!

"Madam, there are only three nose remaining of this case of bottles." This was the first time he knocked me out with his english.

"Three nose??????"


"Yes Madam, three nose"


"Whats nose? Kya bol rahe ho Babu?"


"Arre Madam, aapko nahi maaloom kya, woh inventory ki list pe likha hota hai na 'nose'" (He almost ridiculed my ignorance about this nose on the inventory list)


"Kidhar likha hai dikhao?' (I asked him to show it to me)


Babu came with the list and I saw units in "Nos." Goddammit, whoever came up with that notation for writing 'numbers' as 'Nos.

Once in a while he would even sit infront of a computer, trying to figure out what the fuss was all about. He never touched the keyboard nor the mouse, just stared blankly into it, as if sitting there will make him a computer pro one day, just like that.

He liked bike rides too. One random day, I happened to give him a pillion ride on my scooty too. He was going out for some errand close to the place where I was going so he asked me to take him. He came along mumbling what he had to do, down the stairs...I started my scooty...he took two minutes ...and hopped on. Somewhere in the middle of the journey I caught a glimpse of him in the rear view. Babu was wearing these black goggles with a THICK GOLDEN frame and looking all around as if he was the prince of Persia. I twisted the life out of the throttle and drove at neck breaking speed to reach my destination, lest someone catches me with this specimen on my scooty, in my hometown. I cursed myself for not wearing the helmet that one time. When we reached back, he took off his goggles and put them back where they belonged- his treasured tattered polythene bag.

He asked me to help him with learning English, which I unhesitatingly accepted. Thats when I realized, the easiest way to lose your face as a teacher is to start teaching english. Why is 'tion' pronounced as 'shun'? Why is 'gone', gawSSSn and 'tone', tone and 'done', dun? I never give up on my student when I am teaching. But I have to say this time, he didn't give up on me; even if I sounded absolutely absurd. There was an occassional 'are you sure?' from him, to which I said, 'thats the way they taught me', trying to retrieve as much lost credibility as possible, blaming it on others.

Anyways, coming back to his leave! I was still sizing up whether he was cooking up some story for leave or was he serious.


Thier parents don't agree because the girl has just completed her graduation and my friend has not passed 5th standard even. They have come here from the village and I have to look for a job for him too. Why do parents have to create such a ruckus when two people want to get married and are happy with each other?


No matter how hopelessly romantic I get, I can't imagine nor understand why an educated girl would fall in love with a guy who does nothing, who isn't educated and is not going to grow up with age any further, and how long will that love last. So I tried to make some wise remarks on practicality and the realities of life. But having already lost my credibility thanks to the asinine rules of English language, he gave this back to me...


"Madam, just because my friend cannot read or write doesn't make his love less worthy. I understand that to fend for themselves here in the city without an education is difficult but its not impossible. They truly love each other, and love overcomes everything."


Of course it was mindless and had no remotest affinity to commonsense, but something in those fanstasizing eyes just broke my heart. I should have told him, "Babu, realities of life are far more different than what you seem to have figured out. All these dialogues on love look good only in a bollywood masala flick, not in your friends' life." But I somehow the words didn't come out.


Here was Babu living in this dream world of his, right in the middle of the chaos and madness called 'The Reality'. He may get lucky and meander along his entire life happily in his eternal dream, maybe this Don Quixote will find a Sancho Panza too. I guess Cervantes got philosophical and wrote Quixote because of this same wierd heartbreaking feeling one gets after seeing someone so lost in his own world, that its impossible to bring him out.


I did come across a couple of other Babus like him afterwards. Fool's Paradise is quite a crowded place. There are occassional vacationers too. I am intrigued as to how do they remain so untouched in the humdrum around them. Every now and then I even wonder, who is unfortunate, they- who can't see or us- who can?

To The Pen Weilders!

There is a secret society of writers from all over the world and that's 'Blogosphere'. And I have to admit, on some unsuspecting afternoon I get lost in that world, hopping from one page to the other, from one story to another. Sometimes enchanted, sometimes amused or intrigued or baffled by their beautiful thoughts, imagination, humour, intellect or simply perception! And then a thought struck me, what is a writer's reward? For a musician or a dancer, its the enchanted and enraptured audience; for an actor its that five-seconds of stillness before the auditorium starts roaring with applause; for a magician the baffled look of his spectators. But whats in it for a writer? This about the millions of small stars in the milky way, who are not the Siriuses, the Canopuses or the Rigels but they do have light, however tiny it may be.

Pondering for a few days over this, I bumped upon someone in the attic of my mind. I wiped off the dust from that box of memories. And wondered how long it has been (almost 10 years) and how I had completely forgotten about this someone!

Disclaimer: This can be longer than you expect.

Ravi Rajeev is this guy. And he used to write a column called 'Good Morning Pune'. He wrote an article every alternate day about anything under the sun. It was published on the 3rd page of the local supplement, not a very big deal really.

The newspapers had just begun to show first signs of aging. Only a few nerds like me, went beyond the current affairs and looked at the editorials and side supplements. (Actually I like the editorials more than the news). It was a thing of wonder as to what it is like to write on a daily feature of a local newspaper. Won't someone die of curiosity as to how was the article received? Did it hurt, if you saw someone eating bhel-puri on a parchment with your own article on it? Would you crane your neck in a public place watching people read a paper, and cringe if they pass over your page? You write everyday for a newspaper for heaven's sake, but you are still no celebrity. You don't even know if people like you or hate you; or even worse, don't know if you exist as a speck in this universe. But surely, there is some powerful urge inside to go on writing every other day for all those who read. Nothing like today where people just come on your article online and thwart you mercilessly or leave a gracious compliment then and there.

----------------------------------------------------

"....Forgiveness, my scriptures tell me, is a virtue of the strong. Be it. Maybe I am not strong, that I can't forgive and forget easily. Never on earth did forgiving someone give me the satisfaction of being strong..... I wanted a tooth for a tooth, a nail for a nail and that was strength for me. To be able impart justice was strength to me........... But today I have been forgiven by someone, and I know how devastated I would have been, if I wasn't."

That last line hit home like a strong sudden gush of wind that blew off the closed window of my reverie! I wondered, did that hit just me or there are others who perceived it the way I did?

"....this kid says to me, "Dada whats the big deal about an interesting job? Its all about money. Of all the kids that do an MBA, how many of them understand its importance? Its like a Bachelor's degree now, you just have to have it. Whatever job I get, I will eventually develop an interest in it to survive. And now a days everyone cribs about what they do and their bosses anyways, so what difference does it make?" ..........I am wondering, if I am a fool to write here just for the love of writing? ....................Something is not right some where. Its about time that kids get out of this rat race. Unfortunately, its a self created trap and I feel its ruining the spirit of our children................. What a pitiful generation it would be who doesn't understand the word 'Motivation'."

It sure was a scary thought. After this one, every time I have to make a choice, I ask myself, how long can I go on doing this for no reward? Decisions became less regretted upon, since then.

"......when saying good-byes, the pain of separation drives us to doing two things- allow ourselves to feel the pain and respond accordingly; or shut out the pain and simply say 'OK! bye then'. You would notice that, you wouldn't want to do the latter unless you want to make the person feel as important as last night's dinner, but surprisingly, majority of people choose the feeble second option! If there is a sense of finality its even more difficult; though people who believe in rebirth can always says, 'See you in Barista, after 80 yrs'........ You always want to say something profound, but more often than not it sounds stupid.........................I'll never forget you? You will live forever in my heart? This is just so-long and not farewell? .............All I know is before the person parts, you have to let that person know how much he/she mattered to you! And if there is an antithesis to the phrase 'better said than done', its the last good bye.

In a lighter vein, it said a lot. My reaction to this article was just a smile back then. I had forgotten all about this article but when I have dug it out of the archives at this point in life, its even more resounding.

"The ganpati immersion in Pune is a adrenaline junkie's delight...... Just for an experiment go into the city and listen to the drums.....slowly you'll feel yourself drawn into the beats, like a swimmer caught in the undercurrent of a giant wave.....you will see yourself moving to the waves of the crescendo and slowly the beats are not outside, they are within you..... the more I see it around me, the more I am convinced that the cosmic mystery of being is encapsulated in Rhythm & Music..... The heart, the breath, everything beats in a rhythmic tune.......the only thing that travels unquestioned between Indian and Pakistani borders is music..... Napolean said, "let me write an anthem for a nation and I will decide its morality"...... As a saint said, "A man who sings, prays twice."

I could never agree more! And yes, you have to witness a ganpati procession to truly experience the magic. There are waves of drummers beating their dhols in unison. There are young girls in white kurtas and turbans in the band too. Its sheer adrenaline.

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There were many more of these kinds and each time they made impressions. Of course, even my own age was impressionable that time. Every feeling, every emotion, every reaction is amplified when you are crossing over to the 20s. The only quality thats required in an idea to attract you is 'Novelty'.

Years later, one evening sitting in this typical youngsters' hangout called Toons, I walked over to the bar to get another drink. A gal and a guy on the stools got into an animated conversation. The guy said, "yeah used to write part time, just for fun."

"Cuhmon!! writing in TOI is not small time writing! What did you write, were you a reporter?"

"Nothing much, I wrote a daily column in Pune Times, no big deal."

"Really! Whats your name again? Lemme see if I've read you?"

"Ravi.... Ravi Rajeev"

I turned around. Right in front of me was Ravi Rajeev. Its weird to meet someone you have pictured in your imagination already. A genie who is just black ink to you, suddenly turns into flesh and blood. The admiration that comes out so freely for that person in his absence, maybe because of that absence, suddenly becomes a confused reaction for a second. Nevertheless, I stole him from that chic and brought him to our table; introduced him to another friend of my who loved his work too. Toons is a tiny place so you are inadvertently drawn into everybody's conversation. Somebody in the next table liked him too. And then the word went around as to what the buzz was about. Quite a few came up to him and shook hands!

He turned out to be quite a guy. The one thing about writing is it never betrays the writer in reflecting his true self, no matter what he writes about. He doesn't write now, I couldn't even find a blog in fact. But even if the people who met him that evening were the only ones whose thoughts he must have stirred, it still must have done something in his heart. I wonder what.

That evening, he didn't ask, he didn't expect and didn't need those hand-shakes. Nor were they relevant to him anymore. But if there is undiluted pristine joy, this must have been it.

Taste of Triumph!

After a lot of kicks, here I am. Although couldn't think of a story, but yes, there is something which I always thought I'd write someday. It is an incident, from my childhood. No moral at the end, no message to give. But somehow, its stuck in the head! This one has to go under the bedtime story stack, but go ahead and be a kid this time!


I have grown up with this bunch of 3 guys. My brother (6), who was the tiniest of the lot, the baby we all had to take care of; Sanju (7), who was a year younger to me, but another privileged younger one; and Anna (9), who was the eldest of the lot, and like me (8), he was the elder sibling who got whacked for his mistakes as well as the younger brats. His woes were a little more than me, because unfortunately he was the eldest among all four of us too!


The dynamics of the group are very important for army kids, because most of the times, they have to manage things without their parents. Dads are away which everyone knows, but Moms have all these responsibilities of welfare of the families of the jawans in the regiment, and other functions, which to a non-army person would be beyond comprehension. So when Moms were away, Anna led us. Which wouldn't have been so bad, had we been good kids.

Time and again me and Sanju would break into fights, where my hair came out of my plaits and Sanju's nose would start bleeding. So we had to clean up the floor and go the aunty next door and get my hair in place before our Moms came back. All four of us, could be hungry at erratic times, and the only thing Anna could make was tea. Once we finished off the whole jar of tea-leaves, a big jar of Andhra pickle, every packet of cookies and munchies in the house when Moms were away for 2 days. I don't want to get into the details of what our Moms did to us when they got back. Well they had made veggies and chapatis and rice for 2 days, but we gave Anna a hard time eating any of it.


Once we even beat cows at grazing! There are these deliciously sour leaves and a purple flower of a weed that grows just about everywhere. One Sunday afternoon we saw, there is so much supply in our own garden. So all 3 of us looked at each and smiled. ATTACK!!! We started from one end of the garden and by the time we reached half way, we had grazed to our hearts fill! Washed our hands, dusted off our clothes, everythings cool before Moms came back after 2 hours. Next day, Sanju's mom calls home almost in tears, "Sandhya, I am scared, I don't know whats wrong, Sanju has loose-motions since morning, and its all green. He is completely dehydrated." And my mom on this end, "I was just going to call you, Deepa and Dushyant are vomiting since morning, and its all green." Sanju's Mom turned to Anna. Next day is another black day in our childhood history.


Those days were just something else. We used to take turns and stay up at night just to see the Jackal that howled under our window everynight. We would walk down in the jungle full of crazy tribes, wild elephants, ULFA militants who kidnapped people in broad daylight every second day, and threw their bodies in the Dihang river for police to find them. We would walk with excitement and fear into those jungles, just to see how far we could go. Scared at the same time of losing our way, getting caught by the tribals, and sometimes just the eeriness of the jungle. All in all life was adventurous and everyday was more exciting than the last.


Then next year Anna turned 10. Which was alright, but suddenly he had new friends now. The big boys. He exchanged comics with them and read all big-boys stuff like Phantom and Super Comando Dhruv. Now he would get bored playing with us. I really had to pull up my badminton game, just so that I could play with him and the big boys. Dush was a kid so it hardly hit him. But me and Sanju knew Anna was not interested in us anymore.


One night he told us a ghost story! All three of us were frozen with fear in our bed. This was it, something had to be done. Me and Sanju decided, we have to so something to be recognized. Something to prove ourselves. We simply can't be passed off for small fries anymore.


One afternoon, after lunch, both of us came out to play as usual and set out for the jungle. Just the two of us, that too from a different side. And by the way, dropping pebbles on your way only works in fables, so we decided walk straight ahead not turning anywhere. We walked on. Every now and then, we looked back to see where we came from, and kept going ahead. We were looking for an Elephant.


It must have been around 3 pm that we left, and it was starting to get dark. After an hour, moms would start looking for us. But we still had not found the elephant. The day ends early in Assam, so you could hear the birds flying back to their homes. At times, we would stop just to make sure that the rustle of the leaves was only because of our steps and not someone else following us. When you live close to a jungle, you would understand how critical it is, not to step on any wierd looking creature's tail, however small it may appear. Carefully and watchfully we kept walking. Suddenly we came to this small opening in the forest with 3-4 round huts! We froze right there. Right infront of us, were the tribals. The clothes, the looks, completely fitted the description. One angry man said something we didn't understand. All the scenes from the movies where the jungle tribes capture people and tie them up, started dancing infront of our eyes. Both of us held our hands just ready to run, when Sanju mustered his courage and said to him in Hindi, "we are looking for an Elephant". The man said something pointing further towards the jungle and then told us to go back, in Assamese.


Scared to death, we were turning back, when we saw the Elephant with a mahout, coming from the side that man had pointed. We were delirious with triumph. But in the next moment we realized it was running towards us. We ran for our lives from where we had come. But wait, we can't go back after finding the Elephant. Nobody would believe our story. So we went back, this one last time. It was already twilight, we knew we were going to have a tough time back home, but this was our chance to fame. The guy sitting on the Elephant spoke Hindi. We told him to come with us to our colony. He said his Elephant was tired and it was already getting dark. He promised to come the next day in the morning and give the kids an Elephant ride for 10 bucks per kid.


We signed the deal and walked back home, with our chests full of pride. Thankfully, the kids were still playing in the ground. Anna and everyone else were looking for us, and we told them about the Elephant.


Next day morning was a bright Sunday, and all kids came out looking for the Elephant. There was none to be seen. At 10 am, me and Sanju were already outside our houses waiting for our friend. An hour went, no sign of the Elephant. By 11.30, our adventure was turning out to be our embarassment. But both of us were quite convinced, that he would come. The other kids had just started to nudge us. "So you two met the tribals and an elephant in the jungle huhh", said the meanest big boy, who was also one of Anna's new found friends. Crestfallen and dejected, both of us knew we had found an Elephant and we had been brave enough to venture that deep in the woods, and here we were being ridiculed by a guy who was just a stupid bully. What if that Elephant never came?


Then at 12 in the noon, we see our Majestic Elephant walking into the colony with the mahout. We ran to him. And infront of all the children he said, "I was looking for you two. So all your friends are ready?" That afternoon, everyone got to sit on the Elephant, and me and Sanju were proud as hell. In the evening when he left, we had forgotten all about why we did it, but the only thing that remained with us was, we set out in that dark jungle and found what we went looking for.


In the evening, all that was left was accomplishment in our hearts, and elephant-dung all over the place.


Fast-forward! 15 years later, on a cramped street in Pune City. I saw something on the road and said to my friend, "Looks like an Elephant passed from here!"


"This is Laxmi road you fool. Even humans don't find a place to walk here and you are talking of an Elephant? Are you going crazy?"


And there down the road was an Elephant walking in gay abandon, towards a Ganesh temple at the end of the street! Elephant dung you see, I'd recognize it anywhere!

The Story That Wasn't!

Since I have started studying and all, it gets difficult to write stories. No breeding grounds for new tales! The mind is occupied by literature from the books I am reading lately, which is turning out to be scorching sun for any sapling of ideas that sprouts up.

But one opinion on the law makers-I am never gonna blame Indian law makers and Accounting Standards Board in India anymore. Even if they suffer from mild dyslexia for English, they are very organized and structured. Americans on the other hand are so so poorly organized. Dudes just remember, these things that you write, are going to be referred to again and again by some mortal folks like me. The important conclusion here is, you may sit on the fence and look at that 'oh-so-reachable- greener pasture', on the other side, but the bitter truth is... the moment you jump on the other side, you'll see that the side you jumped off from, was a tinge greener!

Anyways, today's story was bubbling in the head since ages but the guilt of bunking studies was holding me back. But now I realize if I don't get it out, I am never gonna be able study peacefully.

Recently, we met this guy Arunesh in our social gatherings. Arunesh is this very typical Indian techie in US. He has these hard cemented ideas about right and wrong. He is here to make money and thats all he is concerned with. Nothing wrong with this really, he has the right to be himself. He is single and his folks are looking for a bride for him. He is quite clear in his head as to what he wants; she has to be a beautiful girl, an amazing cook, loving, caring, courteous, with very high moral and family values, well-educated and from a good family. And as if to resound his determination to find someone fitting that description, he himself demonstrates all those qualities, (except ofcourse the beautiful looks and good cooking part).

But again guys! Don't start judging him already, he is a nice bloke. He had just moved in the neighbourhood, but he was already every bhabhi's pet here. You need something from the groceries, you want someone to carry that extra laundry bag to the laundry, you want someone to pick your kids from play-school, he'll be the one you can ask without any awkwardness and he'll do it with a smile. Don't think he is a douchebag, he genuinely is helpful. Aparna & Nikhil are his immediate neighbours and Aparna bhabhi dotes on him. He has become the younger brother she never had. Infact, thanks to Aparna and Nikhil, that we all know Arunesh.

It was one of these get-togethers where Arunesh first met Karuna. He noticed this girl who was sitting in a corner observing everyone quitely. She didn't know anyone except Aparna & Nikhil. She sat for sometime then got up to help bhabhi in the kitchen. She got up, moved slenderly across the room, smiled at someone sitting in her way and apologized for upsetting them. Arunesh couldn't help but notice how graceful she was. She was standing in the kitchen next to him, and he observed how she cut the salad so beautifully with the knife in her slender fingers. Aparna bhabhi probably noticing something, just hinted with her eyes at the ring on her finger. *CRASH BOOM BANG*

As days went by Arunesh saw her more often and had met her husband too. Karuna was not so quite afterall, she was a good conversationalist and had a good sense of humour too, but she still held something back at all times. Her husband was completely the opposite sort of personality. Gregarious, high-spirited (pun intended), party animal. Not that Karuna didn't drink, but Arunesh had this gut feeling that probably its Rohit (her husband) who had got her into drinking socially. Together they made a good couple, she loved her husband the way he was and he cared for her and it looked picture perfect. Karuna didn't mingle too much with the ladies around, except in these get-togethers so people didn't know much about her. And every party would end in the same way. Rohit would be singing, telling jokes, the drinks kept going in and finally Arunesh would help Karuna take him back home. It killed him from inside to see her talking to Rohit in a drunken state, trying to comfort him and reason him out, keeping his head on her laps and running her fingers in his hair....the same slender fingers, with that solitaire.

One day he came back early from office and went straight to Aparna bhabhi. There was this thing wriggling in his head. He knew something was wrong somewhere, but he didn't know what to do, because he wasn't called for help! The trigger point was this incident. He and some friends from work decided to go for a drink after office, last Friday. And there he saw Rohit with a gang of some guys and girls drinking and having fun. Rohit was as usual the epicentre of the buzz. Arunesh was wondering if he should go up and say hello; and after deciding he should, he started walking towards him. Just when he reached close to him, this girl caught hold of Rohit's hand and was pulling him towards the dance floor. Rohit turned around and saw Arunesh and was a little taken aback. In that one moment, Arunesh felt so many emotions at once, hatred, pain, sympathy and helplessness. As if to salvage the situation Rohit tried to introduce his office colleagues but Arunesh just walked away. He faintly heard Rohit saying to his friends, "whats wrong with this guy?"

Arunesh narrated this whole incident to Aparna bhabhi. Now even she was sorry for Karuna. But what did Arunesh have in mind? He didn't know either. He was thinking, it is so difficult to find a girl like Karuna in the first place and this guy who already is blessed with a wife like that, is taking her for a ride. Karuna on the other hand, loves her husband blindly. Should he tell her? Probably she won't even believe him if he said something to her. What if she decided to leave her husband? If she did, where would she go? He didn't know if he himself was falling for Karuna or was it just sympathy, but he wanted to do something for her so badly.

Aparna bhabhi and he sat whole evening thinking what to do next, and just then Nikhil came back from work. He was surprised to see Arunesh at home. Aparna told him something briefly and he said to them, "I guess you don't need to worry any more, they are moving out from here to another community. Rohit called me to invite us to his place this weekend." For Arunesh this came as another blow.

That weekend it was probably the last time he would see her. She was looking tired and exhausted after a few days of packing and moving, or was it something else? He was very quite the whole evening and Rohit said to him, "Hey dude! Hope you are keeping well, you were walking like a zombie in the club the other day." It stung Aparna bhabhi. She was astounded at his audacity. "Thank god these people are moving out, Arunesh will forget all about these wierd people once they are out of sight."

Arunesh thought he will get over this soon, but it wasn't working. Aparna bhabhi made sure he was never alone for dinner. The couple took him out with them to cheer him up. But there are some moments where you are just all by yourself, you just can't get away from those. And those painful memories came back. He didn't know what was hurting him, the fact that Karuna's life was messed up, or the fact that she didn't know about it, or maybe the fact that Rohit didn't deserve her?

Then one day, he sent her a 'Friendship request' on a social-networking site. She accepted it. He happened to go though her profile. There were some testimonials written by her friends.

Ryan: Guys think ten times, no ten thousand times, before you decide to buy her a drink. She is a bottomless pitcher. The only woman I know who can still walk straight after 3 Long Island Ice teas. An awesome dancer, a complete rockstar, and mera sabse jigri yaar (the ultimate and authentic 'tomboy' I have ever known).

Gauri: This woman is the worst cook I have ever seen in my life. The only thing she can do well in the kitchen is probably cut salad. Her only hope for survival is if she marries a guy who can cook.

Dilip: She may come across as this quite, dumb and clamped up girl the first time you see her, but she is as bubbly as the beer she's sipping ones she starts enjoying the company. An out and out party freak. Dotes on her friends. And combined with that, she is very intelligent too, you would know from her marksheets if you studied with her. I wonder what was God thinking when he made her.

...and a couple of more to that effect!

Its good to have hard-wired ideas in your head, but the pitfall is, you may become judgemental about people who don't conform to that set of rules. There are a million kinds of people, a million ways of living and you just know one, your own. Thats not the bad part, the bad part is you not realizing this fact.

Sweet Child of Mine!!

So many of us are so comfortable in the lives that God has given us, that we fail to realize, that what we take for granted are actually blessings that we forget to count.

Just remembered this girl called Richa from my 5th grade the other day. Daughter of an army-officer; had a brother called Rakshit who was 2 years elder to her; pretty average in studies; loved to play sports; she had lost her mother a year ago, when she joined our school.

The first time she came out to play, she was wearing her brother's shorts and a lose T-shirt, and everyone was wondering whats wrong with this new girl. She didn't play with the girls much, she liked to play in the group her brother was playing. We all had accepted the fact that she was this way because she had no mummy! But that was not all, those two siblings had all together different concerns than what most of us had.

Her brother was very particular about going home on time and be ready at the study table by 7 pm; whereas, we all invariably would forget that we had a home to go to, and our mothers would come out yelling to call us home for homework. Her brother didn't like if she made fuss over eating her evening snack cooked by the maid and we would leave half the things uneaten on our plate in our eagerness to go out and play. Rakshit made her check her school uniform every evening for the next day and we all had never thought of how our uniforms were always ready in the morning for us. My mother would plait my hair every morning for school and she had a bob cut (she loved her long hair though) because neither her dad nor her brother could plait them for her.

One Sunday, we all were playing in their house. Uncle was there too. He was reading something in the drawing room all the time and would come if Richa called out for something. We all were curious to know what kind of a dad he was. Was he very sweet to these kids, because they didn't have a mom, was he very strict so that they don't get spoiled? But he was like any of our dads. Like every other dad, he loved his children and was very proud of them, but could express so little. Richa once told us that her Dadi wanted him to marry again and she asked both the kids. Richa didn't want a second mom, but Rakshit thought of his father. He and Richa were fine with Papa alone, but what if Papa wants a companion in his life? At that point, Uncle said to Rakshit, "Son, I don't want to marry again for a companion, your mother has given me enough as long as she was with me. Dadi will keep pressing the point that you two kids need a mother to be raised well, but if you promise me to help me take care of yourself and Richa I think the three of us will do just fine." Since then, the two children became a little more responsible. Their dad was always there for them, even if not physically. They may have lost their mother's warm snuggle, but their father's embrace was just as warm and secure.

A man in uniform is married to his country. He has no time for himself let alone the family. Does that mean he has no love and affection for them? A father's job may be demand his time, but does that mean his heart is not occupied with the thought of his family's well-being? To all the children who think their dads don't love them as much because they don't see him around often because of work, he is the man who is staying away from the very people that he loves to give you a better life. Just because he isn't expressive the way you want him to be, doesn't mean his heart is empty. If you fail to see his love, then its your failure as his child to understand him.

It was once that we all were invited for her birthday party. A birthday without mummy was so unconcievable an idea in everyone's heads. Who is going to make the cake, who is going to arrange the food, who will keep all the kids in control, actually mummy is the kingpin in any birthday party... and how was this party going to be?

We went in and the whole house was full of balloons and streamers. The entire house was colourful. The cook took care of the snacks, but the cake was baked by uncle. Richa was dressed in a very pretty crimson dress (Rakshit's choice) with matching accesories. There were games and prizes. Uncle was wearing a fake wig and a beard and distributing return gifts. Rakshit was taking care of his friends and seeing that the little ones were not messing around. And then came Richa's birthday gift, a bicycle she always wanted, she was delighted. Later, uncle dropped all the kids home. By far one of the best birthday parties we all had ever attended.

This story must not have stopped where I stop narrating, there must have been all the milestones every girl and boy have in their growing years; the ones where you feel, its only your mom you can talk to. In their case, it must have been their father.

Why I remembered Richa was, I bumped into her on one of the social networks lately. She is working in Europe these days, engaged and getting married in sometime and Rakshit has joined the forces. The two chidren with their father did just fine... ! A good father is not about "the number of chores and errands he can run for you, respect him and more importantly love him". Something disturbing hit me in this generation and hence this blog!

Its in the air!

Not love silly... Ever wondered about all the sound bites that go floating around you? Somehow, when people are sitting with strangers, they tend to feel as if they don't need to be discreet. Now I seriously don't understand the logic. If you don't want somethings to be heard by people close to you, why would you want those things to be heard by complete strangers? I am not complaining though! :) Ok! I am not into eavesdropping, but what do you do when somebody is so loud that you are sure, they want you to hear it! And if its meaty, spicy, sausy and hot... my mouth would water!

It was a Wednesday, so hubby wouldn't have been back from office till late evening. I was tired of my books and there were a couple of things to be done in the town area, so I decided to go scouting around the city by myself that day.

Had a quick bite and locked up the doors and was all set. I came out and was waiting for the lift. There walked in this lady with 2 tiny kids. I never saw their dad, but my hubby told me that it may not be a very nice idea to make a mention of the missing parent, in this part of the world. So I just smiled at the 2 angels and the lady, who at the moment was coming down heavy on someone on the other side. "What the f#%@! I have told you, I am going to pay that bill. How on earth can you disconnect the line. Give the phone to Pedro!"

Pedro I guess was the favoured one, so the tone was more sing song and purring, "Pedro! Baby what is this guy saying? Didn't I tell you I am waiting for a cheque! Honey, do you think I am gonna scoot off with your money? Sweety, I am not gonna cheat you out of all the people! When are you coming over, its been ages since we sat over a drink? And I am gonna give the cheque to you at my place, OK! Come and get it..." And I walked away smiling, Pedro was gonna 'get it' :P

I just walked past my building and there were these kids playing, some 7-8 years old I guess. And my ears heard, "Jeromy said, you wanna be my boyfriend. But my mom says, I can't make boyfriends till I am 16!"

"Ok I promise I'll kiss you only on the cheeks. You can tell my mom if I didn't keep my promise! C'mon! it'll be so cool..."

"Boys will be boys" is a stupid cliche, but quite true!

I am grinning ear to ear and walking ahead! "Nice smile Miss!" says a guy working on the lawn at this hopital! Small joys of living in a small town! :)

I went inside, I had to collect some medical reports. The receptionist asked me to wait in the lounge. I went in and picked up a magazine! There were 3 people already waiting there. They were waiting to see a doctor is what I presumed. Just then a handsome bloke walked in, he was a doctor! He was looking for someone and left the room after peeping. "Holy christ! This fella is a doctor now!" cried the guy sitting in our roon to the girl he was with.

"Why, what about him?"

"He was such a jerk, in high school! I have always seen him with something broken, either his arm or leg or knee...! Always surrounded by the most delicious chics in the school! He was a goner in school, I am sure his dad must have pulled some strings to get him where he is. Some people just have all the luck. I wonder how many have died under his knife so far."

The old lady was a little perturbed and she looked at him, "By the way, he happens to be a cardiac surgeon and is treating me. He happens to have made quite a name for himself!" That stopped the guy.

Anyways, my name was called out and I got up; so did this guy and his girl. On his way out he didn't miss to retort, "So he is a heart surgeon! What an irony, he must have played around with so many and he is in the business of repairing them now!" Sometimes, jealousy and complexes can turn you into a jackass!

I took my bus to downtown and walked around a little! I thought I'd pick up a doughnut before I went ahead with my shopping. It was a nice weather. I didn't want to sit inside the eatery so I came out and sat on a bench on the side walks. I couldn't help but look around and admire almighty. Every face on the road is different and so are their stories! "Hi! How are you doing?" Strangers greeting you is not uncommon here and something I appreciate in this culture. I smiled at and wished him back. "Are you from around here?" he asked.

"Well no, not really. But I live in this city now." I replied to this old gentleman accompanied by someone somewhat younger than him.

"Do you see, Jimmy boy? So many travellers in this town now. When I was a kid, my old man used to bring me here right here on this very square to meet Santa during christmas. I knew every single kid who came to the square that day by his or her first name and my parents knew theirs and so on! Kids these days know everything, in those days, I was such a dork! Mary told me when I was 10, that there are no Santas and my dad packs'em up, those presents! Oh Boy, what days! Hey... do you wanna ask this lady here for a cup of coffee? She seems to be all by herself!

Like I said, people tend to drop their guard. I can hear him talking about me with that sheepish grin, and did he not just speak to me in English, in case he had any doubts about me not understanding English. I quite like the old man though! :)

I walked into this shop across the street. There was a guy already at the counter. A woman walked in after me. Quite the piece! From the looks of her, she seemed to be Russian or something. She had this beautiful long golden hair done up in a plait. She smiled and made a small talk with the shop-keeper, bought her things and went away.

The other guy's eyes ushered her out of the shop, and something makes me think, that his mind even walked with her all the way to her home. Still looking at the door he asked, "who is she?"

The shop-keeper told him, "Oh She! She is Ms. Dashia! She is a widow.'

>>"Ohh! what tradegy"

"I said she is a widow, I never said she is alone"

>>"A woman like that would never be;Lucky bastard, whoever it is!"

"Well! Lucky are the bastard's'!! Came a reply with a wink.

>> "Well you speak as if you are one of the favoured ones! ahaa!"

"Ohh no no no! I am man with wife and kids, no such crap for me. I am not into all this man!"

Ahh Mr.! you are into a lot of crap, from what I can see!

Anyways, I thought I'd call it a day and head homewards. I caught my bus to Silverlane and sat down, with the day replaying in my head. My feet were hurting a little with all the walking and shopping, so I just eased up a little on my seat and closed my eyes.

>>"Hiiiii! What a surprise to hear from you! I called you yesterday and got your voice mail, so I left my number and was wondering if you would even recognize me and call!"

>>"Yeahh! I am working here itself, my office is in Downtown. Where do you work?"

Some Indian gal had found some Indian bloke she knew in this part of the world. I couldn't help but notice that there was a more than mere joy in her voice and the response from the other end was encouraging if not anything else!

>>"Ohh thats amazing! Its close by, we should catch up for lunch or coffee sometime"

>>"By the way I saw your wedding photos. You guys make a good pair. And you haven't lost any of your charms post marriage, I must say!

My ears are craning out of my head now...

>>"Yeahh! My folks are looking out for me now. I was dating someone, but that didn't work out and I am over it now."
>>"Ya! Its so wierd man, I guess we never spoke in school, but so much has changed since school."
>>"Hahaha! Do you know, we gals used to follow you home from tutions, you were quite a hit among the gals. You have no clue how many hearts you broke when you got married."

Hmm... so flirting is the name of the game!

>>"Ohh C'mon Sushil, you are flattering me now!!"

Heyyyyy!>>>>>>>>>>> Wait a minute!, Did I hear Sushil? What are the chances of there being some other 'newly-wed Sushil working in Downtown' ....in this part of the world. I quickly dialled his number from my phone.... "the number that you've dialled is busy at the moment, please try again later"

Whaaaaaatttt Thhheeeeeeeee Helllllllllllllll !!!

The Take Away shop...

There is something which I believe in and as the days have passed I believe in it even more... "Every person who comes and goes in your life, is sent to teach you something. And the length of their association is inversely related to the importance of the lesson they teach you."

This one is for some of those small associations and what they taught me.

1. Doden Uncle's daughter. My classmate in Nursery, who was also my neighbour. She was my neighbour for about 6 months odd. We used to go to school together and come back together. On our way back, Ms. Deepa, the primadona, would sleep off in the school bus. This gal would wake me up, take my bag and water-bottle along with hers, and walk along. Ms. Deepa on the other hand, would carefully hold her skirt and jump over the water puddles and mud, to avoid soiling her clothes or shoes. Both the mothers used to be waiting together and my mother used to be absolutely embarrased everyday watching the scene. She scolded me hundred times not to make her carry my things, but of no use! One day, she forgot to wake me up and she realized it when the bus was gone. She waited till the bus came back with me. She apologized to me for having left me in the bus that day.

Some years later, I used to laugh about the incident and think of that gal half-jeeringly. When one day, my mom corrected me. She said, "What makes you think that you bullied that gal all the time? I think, she was a very smart gal. She was so much in control of herself when she was just in Nursery. She was watchful that she wouldn't miss her stop. She woke you up, lest the bus took you away in your sleep. When you were still coming in terms with the daze, she would be ready with her stuff and yours, to get down. She walked you back home watching your pricey ways. Any other gal would have never seen your face from the very next day you made her do all this. And this gal did it everyday, and the day she missed she felt sorry for letting her friend down. You trusted her blindly, but could she ever place the same trust in you as a friend? In friendship, she did her bit, without even thinking what was she getting in return!

Now I do try to be a friend like her to all my friends but trust me, its not easy! There are so many times I have erred.

2. Kause Sadiki Ulaya. A pen friend from Tanzania in my 5th grade. Being an Armyman's daughter, I couldn't keep up with the mails as we changed too many addresses. I recieved her letters written in broken English, but very warm words describing her country. I could visualize Mt. Kilimanjaro when she wrote about it in her letter. (And yes, there was no Internet when I was in 5th grade.)

The lesson!! You really don't need perfect words or language to describe something, you really don't need to see the person face to face. All you need is a heart of gold, an open mind, and a hunger to know, to understand. Distances are man made.

3. The three kids of a construction labourer I taught in my 8th grade, as an experiment by my school to introduce Social awareness programmes among students. The eldest was a girl, who was in charge of looking after her 2 siblings. The second was a girl, six years old, the sharpest. The youngest was a crawling baby. I just couldn't get them interested in the class. They didn't know who Amitabh Bachhan or SRK were, they hadn't heard of bollywood songs. So I drew fruits and animals in their notebooks and their spellings next to them in Hindi. Next day the delighted little girl took me to her shanty and wanted me to paint those things on her steel box!

When words on a book or a page start making sense to someone who has never known them, the joy in those eyes is probably comparable to Alladin's excitement having found the genie inside his rotten lamp!

5. This guy when I was in 10th grade! Incidently, me and a very dear friend of mine had a crush on the same guy! And we still gossip about it.

Even after you grow up and you realize that the fella who's very sight made you feel weak in the knees once, is so dumb and such a block head, First Flame is always the First!! :D:D:D:D Isn't it, Ms. 'S'?

6. Ms. Mini Chaubey. Yes I put it on records. I and some friends made her life miserable in school. She was a crazy girl, but that didn't give us the right to pour an entire bottle of glue on her chair, paste notes on her back, or tease her with some random guy in the class and etc and etc.

Sense of humour is small expression but means a zillion things. Your humour, at the expense of somebody's happiness isn't humour, its tom-foolery! Those 2 yrs, 11th and 12th grade, are the most cherished times in my life and I have ruined those memories forever for someone! Yes, I did apologize to her personally once when I met her after school, but can I ever get back those years for her?!

7. Mr. Rohan Tatnis. God knows where he is now. I have met him just once at a family friends place. At the time when I was so frustrated with my routine and studies when I was studying for a CA degree. It was the first time I flunked by 2 marks in the Income Tax paper and I was cribbing about it. And after hearing me out, he said, "there must be students who flunked by 1 mark, and there must be students who have passed all subjects but flunked in aggregate. The fact is all of you are not good enough! Would you like to get treated by a doctor who passed on the border line? He knows 40% of the things, but there is an entire 60% percent of stuff that he doesnt know!!"

Lesson!! Stop cribbing about the system, the rules are there 'coz of some logic! Doctors & Engineers aren't accountants, so they missed such a big flaw in their passing policy! My Institute isn't :P ! Long Live the Indian CA Institute! :D:D

Or probably Rohan meant, stop fooling yourself, overcome your shortcomings and move ahead!

8. The Pakistani Uncle & Aunty we met on our trip to Niagara. We were buying the tickets for our ride and the guy at the counter was having a difficult time explaining the deal to Uncle. So Sushil pitched in and Uncle decided to tag along with us for the ride. What a delightful couple and aunty had the typical Pakistani sense of humour. We had a great time. When we came back, all of us decided to sit down for some coffee and snacks! The conversation began, and over the next two hours, Uncle gave us the most inspiring advice on so many issues that were boggling us. It was as if God had sent these two that day, just to answer our doubts and give us a push!

God sends the least expected people as messengers. Those two took some big risks in their lives and made it big! It was aunty who stood by him and kept encouraging him when the times were rough and people around them didn't know what was going on. He said, if you have decided in your head what to do, just do it! Start walking and you will know the path! The important thing is the first step!

I had read about all these things above some or the other time in my life, but I realized if one was to get wiser by someone else's experiences and learn from what people tried to teach you from books, world wouldn't have been full of clumsy people like me!

Still learning and experiencing!

yours truly!