Lucknow Note: The journey

We were at Chai Gali sipping Bangalore tea, when our friend asked “So what is your plan for the vacation?” He was talking about the December vacations, which was one weekend away.  “Oh! We have no plans” I responded. “Maybe we will come over to Lucknow” I kidded. Our friends latched on to the idea and started planning instantly. We humoured them for a few minutes before realizing that it was an idea worth implementing. That night, we frantically searched for tickets in the various airline websites. Finally, we found a not-so-obscene airfare with the only disadvantage of travelling on New Year’s Eve. But this was not an issue as most New Year’s Eves were like any other eve for us. So travelling on New Year’s Eve seemed a perfect situation.

Travelling to Lucknow from Chennai, involved multiple flights and many hours spent in one airport or the other. In our case, we had five hours to kill at Delhi airport – not T3 but the smaller T2. Airports and flights are wonderful places to observe people and listen to their conversations. Some would call this eavesdropping or overhearing but they don’t understand the artistic intent behind in this exercise. Many of the lyrics of the songs by the group Underworld are based conversations overheard by the group’s lead singer Karl Hyde. Though I am not sure, I believe the following lines from the song Dark and Long is example of overheard conversation.

Me I’m just a waitress she said

I went and bought a new head she said

I look at you and I believe in you she said

Screaming into the eye of the lens

On the morning of the flight, we were happy to find a not-so-crowded Chennai airport. Not many wanted to travel on a Christmas morning. The security clearance queue had around 40 people. But this seemed too many for a group of young girls from some place north of India. They jumped across the dividers and pushed away people in their attempt to get to the front. We were in no mood to give in to their brutish move and stood like a wall. They were forced to stand behind us but crowded and pushed us on. They seemed to be frantic and commented “Oh! How long it takes?” and “I have heard Chennai airport is crowded in the mornings.” I guess some day they should see the crowded airport. On such a day, people would not be as polite as the crowd on this Christmas morning.

The wait at the Delhi airport was relaxing. We proved ourselves to be staunch South Indians by having Idli-dosa for breakfast at Vango in the airport. The name of the restaurant is misleading. Its written Vango and we will be tempted to read it as such. But that is not how it is pronounced. It is pronounced Aiyo Vango. The Aiyo part in the name is invisible, similar to p being silent in the word psychology.  The person at the cash counter was a good sales man who entices people to buy combos. You ask for an idli and he will sell you a combo with vada and coffee. You ask for a vada and he will sell you a combo with coffee. You ask him a dosa and he will sell you a combo with idli and coffee. You ask him a coffee and he will sell you any of the above combos. He does all this selling with extreme subtlety; “Sir, make it a combo and you will only pay 100 rupees extra”. Being an experienced traveller, I am not gullible and only fell for his tactics once. One sip of the coffee and I realized I had not gained enough experience.

We also ran into a relative of ours at the airport. No, not really! I should have said “I ran behind a relative of ours at the airport calling out his name through good part of the waiting area.” Everyone at the waiting area watched at the scene with interest and soon a crowd converged on the poor fellow.  They were all calling out his name and informing him that I was running behind him.  The fellow turned around and gave me a cold look.  I was shocked by the cold reception. He gave me a frigid “Hello, how are you?” and before I could respond said “Sorry, I have a flight to catch. Talk to you later”, turned around and walked away. I don’t understand why people behave this way. I think I have done him a huge favour; many people across India know him by face and name. If he ever finds himself stuck in Jodhpur with nowhere to stay, I am sure there will at least be one or two people who will identify him and offer him food and shelter. But he did not understand this and left me embarrassed. Well, I am sure that I have to strike his name off the list of people who acknowledge my existence on this planet. Sad!

There was one other place where we will fell prey to a brilliant sales person. We saw a board declaring 50% off on a multinational clothing brand at a shop. We wanted to pick a sweater for the young one in the family. Prior to choosing the sweater, we verified the 50% discount claim on the poster with a sales person in the shop. She was very helpful and explained it. The discount process involved complex computational routine. Halfway through the explanation, I requested her to stop, fished out a book from my bag and started noting down the conditions and formulae involved. It occupied a full side of my long notebook and seemed fit to be sent to one of the esteemed international journals on mathematics. I ran my eyes through the page but could not decipher what the percentage of discount will be if I bought a sweater worth Rs.1000. I thought it will be better to ask the sales person this question. By then the boy in our group had tried 3 sweaters and chosen the one he liked. He handed it over to me and said vehemently “I like this green sweater.  I want it.” The situation had just turned convenient or so I thought. I pointed at the sweater and asked the sales person “how much discount for this sweater?” She answered “Oh this one! This belongs to new stock and has no discount.” If the no fly passenger list (or something like that) did not exist, I would have uttered words that should never be uttered in airports and aircrafts.

The story does not end here. The supervisor of the shop walks in and complements me on having picked the sweater of the century for the boy. I ahem-ed once or twice and handed over the sweater to him to requested him to bill the same. At that moment, someone reminded that I was planning to buy a denim pants (actually, we referred to it as jeans pant but I have been made to believe that that is too colloquial a usage and I will be proper and call it denim pants). The supervisor used these words as a lasso and soon I found myself walking towards the trial room with a number of denim pants swinging from my arms. To cut the long story short, we ended up picking up a pant and a t-shirt. We ended up spending a few thousand more than expected. But I walked out a happy man. I was overwhelmed by a smart sales person and though the t-shirt was unnecessary, I got a big bargain on the denim pants.

We reached the gate to board the Lucknow flight five minutes ahead of the required time. There was a long queue and we stuck to the end of it. The long queue got longer. A few minute later, almost every passenger of the flight was in the queue but still it did not move. Thirty minutes after the announced boarding time, a faint voice came over the public announcement system and requested the passengers of the flight at the boarding gate to form a line. The owner of the voice either had poor eyesight or a great sense of humour. Either way we were way past the point to care for her inability or ability. Just as the line moved, a well dressed lady who was not a part of the queue enquired if this was the queue for the Lucknow flight. When we answered in the affirmative, she said something about she not being sure as it was a Monday in the month December in the year 2017 and other such obviouses. In the process, she sneaked into the line right behind us. Another person, put his carry-on luggage, which included a laptop bag, right by the door and went back to stand in his place in the queue. He spent the next 5 minutes craning his over the heads in the queue to ensure his bags remained where he had left it.

Being vacation time, the flights were filled with children. We were too sleepy in the early morning flight to notice them but we observed and overheard the children around us in the flight from Delhi. A brother and sister behind our seats were fighting over the window seat. The sister had parked herself in the window seat and the brother was staking claim.

"I will sit by the window."

"No it's my turn. You sat last on our flight to Delhi. Now it’s my turn."

"What are you saying? You sat for one hour and gave it to me for 10 minutes only. So now I will sit"

The mother intervened and was able to remove the sister from the window seat and place younger son there. The girl had a sad face with a sad voice and she expressed everything with a sob. We were sitting at the end of the flight and only towards the end of the flight the food trolley with the “delicious food and beverages available at attractive prices” reached us. The girl with sad voice wanted chicken sandwich and her mother did not share her enthusiasm.

"Khane ke liye tho kuch bhi nahin mila." (“We got nothing at all for eating”)

"Uske liye order karna padega." (“For that we need to order”)

"Tho order kharlo na." (“You better order then”)

"Kya order karna hain?" (“What should we order?”)

"Chicken sandwich." (“Chicken sandwich”)

"Nahin nahin veg sandwich." (“No, no! Veg sandwich”)

"Jab veg khana hain tab kayenge, ab veg sandwich nahin. Mujhe chicken khana hain."  (“I will eat veg when I have to eat it. Now I am not in vegetable sandwich mood. I want chicken” – For those who understand Hindi – Yes, this is a poor translation.)

After arguing for some time they settled on paneer sandwich, which she did not get either as the flight had started its descent. The girl said with a sob "I am hungry; you did not get me anything to eat." The mother said in a voice laced with hurt "but you had a pizza in the airport." The girl persisted "but you did not get me anything on the plane."

It was now the turn of a twelve year old in the seat ahead to capture my attention. He decided to dress himself up for arrival. He used the camera of his mother’s iPhone as his mirror. He started with a cap. After donning it, he checked his “mirror” and adjusted his hair jutting out of the cap for a good three to four minutes. He then took out his pair of goggles, which were the twenty first century model of the Gandhi specs. The goggles covered nearly 50% of his face. He checked his “mirror”; first the left profile and then the right. He gave a smile of satisfaction and captured the same using the iPhone camera.

On landing, we waited for the bus to transport us to the terminal. We had to show a lot of patience at this point. We knew how touchy the ground staffs get when people try to force their way into one of their buses. But our patience was tested by a few gentlemen, who refused to move away from the foot board of the bus. They were busy looking at the other bus picking up passengers from the front of the plane. They were trying to estimate which of the buses will leave earlier. So we had to shoulder our way into the bus through them. They were disappointed to find that the other bus reached the arrival gate ten seconds earlier than ours.

At the baggage carousel, we found a child sitting by the conveyor belt touching every bag with the toy car he held in his right hand. His father warned him and entreated him to keep away from the luggage moving around the carousal but of no avail. He said with exasperation “Jab chot lage tho batha dena” (“When you get hurt, let us know”). The sarcasm was lost on the boy. Fortunately, their baggage arrived a little later and boy left unhurt.

We picked up our baggage and stepped into Lucknow. We let the cold winter chill to travel through our flesh to the bones.

Snow White's dilemma

Not many know that the fairy tale “Snow White and the seven dwarfs” has a sequel. It is not named “Snow White returns” or “Snow White Part II” but has a darker name. I will get to that in a sometime. The sequel itself is fascinating due to its darker tones. As a matter of fact, it is not a fairy tale at all. As Rob Zombie says, the story is “more human than human”. The sequel is not well known precisely for this reason. Everyone prefers a fairy tale Snow White to a human one. So the most important message of the sequel is lost to all. Unfortunately, I don’t have a link to this sequel nor do I have the scan of the story. So I will try to summarize the story here.

A few years after the ever happy ending of the original story, Snow White discovers the magic mirror in the attic of her palace. She is struck at the clarity of her reflection on the mirror and the beauty of its woodwork surrounding it. She touches the wood work and is amazed by the tingling feeling that starts at her fingertips and makes it way to her head. Unlike the other senses, like pain and heat, this new feeling takes time to reach her brain. She tracks the feeling travel across her arms, through her neck to her head with a feeling of pleasure. She closes her eyes and hears a voice in her head “touch the mirror and ask a question.”  Snow White opens her eyes in shock, covers the mirror and starts moving away from the mirror. She takes a few steps, turns around and comes back. She stands in front of the mirror and uncovers it slowly. She touches the mirror tentatively and asks the question “Who am I?” The mirror responds “Oh that’s easy! You are Snow White.” Snow White remembers the evil queen’s question and asks the same to the mirror “Who is the fairest person of all?” The mirror responds instantly “You, Snow White, are the fairest of all.” Snow White feels waves of happiness passing through. From these waves, comes a question, which Snow White throws at the mirror. She asks “Who is the darkest person of all?”

The mirror remains quiet. Snow White waits for some time, grows impatient and repeats the question. The mirror “Give me a moment, Snow White. This is not an easy question.” The mirror remains quiet for some time prior to answering the question. It answers tentatively “Snow White, you are the darkest of all”. Snow White is shocked; she reels away from the mirror and stares at it for a few moments. She comes back touches the mirror and repeats the question. She receives the same response.  She feels anger rising through her and shouts “How can I be the darkest, when I am the fairest?” The mirror answers “That is for you to find Snow White.” Snow White feels an urge to smash the mirror but controls it and asks her earlier question differently “Why am I the darkest of all?” The mirror answers “That is for you to find Snow White.”

I was planning to summarize the sequel in two paragraphs but nearly ended up replicating two paragraphs from one of the initial chapters of the book. These are so steeped in mystery and spookiness that I could not help but put them down in detail. 

Snow White continues questioning the mirror for a few days but neither does the response change nor the mirror provide her with details. She walks around her palace listlessly, lost in thought. Many in the palace comment on her lack of enthusiasm and joy. One day, she comes across the court jester, who wits 

“There was once a person called Snow White

With passing of time, the white went light

Now she seems pale in everyone’s sight

And the wicked call her Snow Pale in delight”

Snow White stops and stares at the jester. She says “That was not a very nice thing to say.” The jester replies in seriousness “You seem very disturbed princess.” “I am” replies Snow White. She asks not particularly to the jester “How can a person be fair and dark at the same time?”  The jester responds in a rhyme again

“Fair and dark is the skin of a person

Fair and dark is the heart of a person

Fair and dark are seen by all

Easily when outside

Not so when inside”

The jester leaves Snow White deep in thought. Her mind latches on to the line “fair and dark is the heart of the person”. She starts understanding the mirror’s words from the jester’s rhyme.  “Was the mirror hinting that she had the darkest heart of all? How is that possible? I am Snow White. I cannot be dark, inside or out”. She decides to go back to mirror and probe further. 

As she takes off the cloth covering the mirror, her fingers brush the mirror and she hears the mirror welcome her...

This account is turning out to be too detailed. As I had mentioned earlier, I was only planning to summarize. This looks nothing like a summary. This is not a replication of the original text either. The original text has many details that I have omitted in this account. It is not this clumsily written either. It flows like a river and uses flowery classical sounding words. For example, at one point, Snow White talks to a maid at the palace, who, if I remember right, says something, like “Oh, the lovely princess of the palace, there exist none in this world whose beauty surpasses ye. And yet, today ye look paler than the clouds that adorn the sky. How has this happened, O lovely princess of this beautiful land?” Neither have I bothered to bring in this detail nor have I used such beauty in my language. So neither is this a reproduction of the original text nor am I summarizing it. This is only a detailed account.

... The cheery tone of the mirror annoys Snow White. She questions the mirror with annoyance in her voice “Why am I the darkest of all?” The mirror answers “That is for you to find Snow White.” She starts feeling anger rise in her and starts feeling an urge to break the mirror apart. She clenches her teeth and shouts “You better tell me why you call me the darkest of all when you say I am the fairest of all.” The mirror laughs and replies “That is for you to find Snow White.” Snow White loses control of her anger, picks up a vase and throws it at the mirror. The sound of the breaking mirror brings Snow White back to her senses. She looks at the shattered mirror in shock. She picks a piece o the shattered mirror and drops it as soon as she hears it wail “Why has the fair, fair Snow White destroyed me? I only said the truth and yet she hurt me. What is the point of being fair when you are so dark?” Snow White drops the shard and runs away from the attic. 

Snow White understands the meaning of the mirror’s words. She thought and everyone said that she is the nicest person alive who said and did good things.  Out of nowhere, the mirror puts in a thought in her head and the jester, in some manner, confirms it. As the mirror suggested, her recent actions suggest that she is dark inside. As is usually the at times of distress, she remembers her dwarf friends in the woods and decides to visit them.

When she reached the forest, she finds the dwarf’s house in a dilapidated state. She goes in and finds one of the dwarfs (I don’t remember which) lying sick on his bed. As she approaches he opens his eyes, looks at her for some time and says with a faint smile “Oh it is so nice to see you Snow White. Why have you not visited us for so long?” Unable to speak, Snow White stares at the dwarf for a long time. The dwarf continues “As you can see, things have not been the same since you left. Everyone’s gone and I am very sick. Soon, I will be gone too.” Snow White gets out of her reverie and asks “But what happened? Where did everyone go?” “Oh! They are all gone. Gone forever, never to return again” responds the dwarf’s as he closes his eyes. Snow White tries to talk to him some more but the dwarf does not respond.  

Snow White walks inside and outside the house for some time. She finds it in complete disarray. It seems as if the place had not been taken care for years. She realizes that it has been many years since she visited the dwarfs.  She did not remember them once she moved to the castle as her life is immersed in love and luxury. The incident with the mirror is the first time she felt disturbed and it is then that she remembered her dwarf friends. She thinks “Do I take my friends for granted? Do I only remember them when I have a need of my own? Did I forsake them at the time of their needs? Oh no! Could this be a part of my darkness?” She decides to look back at her life and remember incidents that pointed at the darkness that lies in her heart. Memories started pouring in, one on top of the other, as if they had no respect for each other. In each case, she starts seeing negatives where earlier she had only seen positives.

The story continues with description for each of these events and the negative associated with it. I don’t remember most of these events but let me recount one as an example.

This happened a few weeks after Snow White moved in with the dwarfs. She finds the dwarfs trudging into the house after a tough morning’s work. They have their soiled work clothes on. She stops them at the door and chastises them for entering the house in such cloths. She goes on to revamp their wardrobe and replaces all their tough clothes with finer ones. The Dwarfs try to reason with her about their type of work and need for tough cloths. But Snow White is adamant and effects the change she desires. She also puts in rules about cleanliness and the need for frequent washes and baths. She does not give ear to their protests but ensure they change their ways. She does not remember the details of their protests and felt ashamed for having enforced her whims without listening to them. “Is it possible that I am adamant? Do I really care for others? Why did I not listen to them? Is this a reason for the darkness in my heart? Yet, I don’t understand why I should be the darkest?”

The sheer volume of the memories overwhelms Snow White. She starts losing track and decides noting them down. An hour passes and she finds herself staring a full page. She moves away from the paper and stares out of the window. “How could she have been so sure of about her goodness? Did she not feel proud about her being Snow White? Did she not want everyone to be the way she wanted them to be? Did she not forget the people who had helped her? Did she not think of herself as the nicest person alive? Is this not enough for the mirror to proclaim that she is the darkest of all? Yet she had destroyed the mirror for having uttered those words.”

Snow White runs down to the attic and looks at the mirror lying shattered on the floor. She picks up the pieces and magically sticks them together. She looks at the complete mirror with satisfaction and touches it. She hears the mirror say in a sad voice “I have always spoken the truth frankly. I did not believe in sugar coating what I said. I thought it helped the recipient to know the truth but I was wrong. Frank and blatant truth only hurt and anger people. Look what happened to the two people to whom I spoke with frankness. One harmed others and the other harmed me. One is considered evil by the world and other innocent. It does not make any difference on the kind of person to whom I speak. My frank words hurt, hurt breeds hate and hate leads to many issues. I realize there is no place in this place for frankness. One should sugar coat or lie or just keep quiet. I am only capable of doing the latter. Mirrors like me will not speak anymore; we will show you as you are and it is up to you to see and understand. I only hope people are at least capable of dealing with self frankly. These are my last words”. 

Thus the story ends. The story is named “The mirror’s dilemma”.

Message in a bottle

Someone has leased my brain to someone else. I am sure about this. I don't know who these someones are but I can hear the second someone inside my head. For convenience sake, let me call him lessee He is a chatterbox. He has something to say all the time. He does not stop. Fortunately, he is not loud. I can't hear him when I am with someone or deeply engrossed in some activity. But the minute I am by myself and not focusing on something, I hear him. At these times, he comes up with some highbrow thoughts. I ignored these for a long time I ignored. But I am old now and my resolve is falling apart. I have given into this guy and listen to him intently. I even talk to him these days. These conversations usually take place when I am in my bed waiting for sleep to come by or driving or walking down an empty street. One day, I was stuck in  my car in a traffic jam. Some loud music was blaring out of the car stereo. I was moving my head back and forth to the beat but the music did not register in my head. I looked around and saw the people in the neighbouring car stare at me. I could no longer hear lessee's voice. I realized I was having an intense argument with lessee. I was not head-banging as I had thought but was waving my hands and head to stress my points during the argument. I put down my hands that stood frozen in mid-air and placed my head on the head rest and closed my eyes. "Hey, play Elephant talk" said lessee. I took off from my seat screaming shut up and hit my head on the roof of the car. I sank back again embarrassed. I did not turn right to look at my neighbours. Instead I changed the track on the stereo and listened to Adrian Belew sing.

Talk, it's only talk
Arguments, agreements, advice, answers
Articulate announcements
It's only talk

Lessee remains quiet when his favorite tracks played on the stereo. Unfortunately, he only liked 5 or 6 tracks. Wait a minute. What? It is not 5 or 6, is it? Ah! Its 8 tracks. Ok fine; I will correct it. No I don't want a listing. I know the songs you like. Stop. Fine, go ahead. Ok, that's one, two, three and oh yes that one. Yeah, four, five. Damn! You like that song? Serious? That one's sappy! No, it's not profound; it's sappy and saccharine laced. Oh come on, don't start singing it. Stop! I agree it is profound; go ahead. That's it! What do you mean that's it? That's six songs but you said eight. Oh no! You did not say six, you said eight. Yes you did. I did not say eight. I said five or six and you stopped me right in the middle and said its eight. I have a feeling you are trying to bomb my writing. Just shut up, this is work and do not disturb. I am not getting into this argument. Just be quiet. 

My apologies for this annoying diversion. I recorded the conversation here to show how annoying it can be to have someone  arguing with you all the time. I am so frustrated that I want to do something to him. But I have no idea how to get to him. So he goes on and on and on about philosophy, religion, stars, god and god knows what else. I tried to use some of the things he mentioned at my workplace in an attempt to look intelligent. Everyone stopped working, looked at me with concern and advised me to not work so much and to take it easy. I was shocked. As annoying as he is, I think the guy has some very interesting thoughts. I have a huge respect for his intelligence. But somehow the world around does not think so. 

So why am I writing all this? That is a good question. As a matter of fact, a very good question. One, I was told to do so by him. The second reason is a secret and I want you all to keep it so. If the guy gets a to hear this one, I will be in  trouble. So please, do not discuss or mention it when I am around. Can someone help me to get rid of this guy? He does not let me sleep. Some nights he talks till midnight and then resumes at 3:45 am. I only get three and half hours of sleep. I can't live like this anymore. Oh! Please help me to get rid of this guy. I have another big worry. I think the guy is taking over. I am becoming more like him. Soon the original me will disappear I will become him. The people who know me will not believe this. I have started colouring and painting. Boooo hoooo hoooo. Can you all believe it, me and art? This is not me. Please help.

SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS SOS

Small frustrations

"Why are we doing this?" asked she in frustration. 

"We are wasting time and no one enjoys it"

"If these are our last few days  here, should we not be walking around rather than sitting in a place talking and practicing" added he with equal amount of frustration.

"I don't understand the point of knowing and displaying the life of some great person. Everyone knows his story and it is no necessary to show it off" said she continuing the thread.

"Oh! It's so pompous" he exclaimed.

"We only spend 10 minutes on stage and in those 10 minutes we have one and half lines to utter. We sing two songs in a group and worst of all we have to dance" she cried.

"At least you dance, we lie down on the floor most of the time. People are calling it the sleeping dance. When we get to speak the one line we have, it's in a language we don't understand. Why can't we walk around and remember all the good times? Maybe we can write it all down and create a map of events" said he brightening up.

"Hey, that is a good idea. We should do that. Only that!"

Prequel to a romance

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

I have been wanting to use the above disclaimer for a long time. I have noticed that people's minds start thinking up actual persons the minute they see this disclaimer. In no time, people start exclaiming names and arguments ensue. "Its Dhirubhai Ambani." "No no, its Kim Kardashian" "Are you crazy? Its that doctor fellow from friends." "It has to be Usain Bolt." These arguments are futile for the reality is that this is a work of fiction and any resemblance is a mere coincidence.

To say that she was taken unawares would be an understatement.   But I don't know how to state or overstate it and so you have to just accept that she was taken unawares. 

The end of the day meeting with some friendly visitors at office was looked at with mixed feelings. The friendliness of the visitors seemed interesting but the word meeting in the invitation had brought in the feeling of "not another meeting" into many minds. A few even expressed this feeling with the perfect groan and rolling of eyes. So the mood at the office through the day swayed from mild disinterest to mild interest.

The friendly visitors started arriving by lunch. As was suggested in the meeting invite, the visitors were friendly. They walked through the corridors smiling and mingling with anyone who was courteous enough to look at them. They asked annoyingly friendly questions and got back disinterested pleasant answers. Though most of the visitors seemed genuinely happy to be there, the hosts were getting tired of forced smile that they had stuck using Fevicol to their lips. Fortunately, the visitors could not identify the artificiality of the smiles. Unfortunately, the hosts were aware of the artificiality of the bonhomie and their disgust for each other grew steadily. Finally, the meeting commenced. If it had started any later than it had, many relationships would have been broken in the office.

She walked into the room and looked at the farther end of the hall. She found a vacant seat at the farthest of the farthest end of the room. She sat down and almost instantly started doodling in her pocket book (as she called it, though her dresses never had pockets and the book itself lay carelessly within her jolna). Her focus on the left swing of the seventeenth curve of her doodle was disturbed by someone attempting to sit on the chair beside hers. At this point, I am forced to divert your attention to questions that have been haunting me since I heard about this event. Why did the person choose that seat? Was it an incident or accident (I have wanted to use these two words in a single sentence since I heard Paul Simon say "There were incidents and accidents")?

The fine leftward swing of that seventeenth curve was disturbed. It went down; first to the right and almost immediately to the left prior to stopping with a dark dot. A silent curse formed in her head and started travelling to her vocal chords and tongue. It was at that moment, that her ear intercepted with a pleasant voice that said "Oh! I am sorry". She looked up and saw... Well! Its best to put it in her own words here. "The cutest face on Earth smiling at me." She smiled back and said "Iok!" She wanted to say "Its OK" but as is usually the case in such situations ts was not forthcoming. Subsequently, they talked a bit, about her doodle, she thinks but as her brain was completely focused on taking in details about him, the recording of words took the backseat.

At the end of the evening, we found her standing by a window staring blankly at the tree outside. She looked at us and said in a sad tone "He's gone and I don't even know his name." From the tit-bits she provided, one of us discovered his identity and provided his details. Instead of brightening, her face drooped further and she said with agony in her voice "Oh! He is three years younger". Instantly we stood up to the occasion by reminding her that younger and older do not matter. We provided excellent examples of Sachin Tendulkar and a famous singer, whose name eludes me now. But I am proud to say that it was my pointed question that put the thought to rest forever. "Are you planning to marry him?"

That evening, we received a picture of his in our group. As I am not a specialist at judging a guy's cuteness, the words "mmmm hmmmmm" came into my mind. I suppressed the words and sent back a boring "Nice" to the group. That word, fortunately, was lost in the gushes of praise from other quarters. She had sent a friend request on Facebook and it had been accepted. The big question in all our minds was so far so good but what next? Suggestions started flowing in - "Say Hi", "No, how are you?", "What! Just let him know it was good to meet him", "No, just tell him that you know his friend". The group finally settled on a response that consisted of "good to know him" and "knowing his friend". The response was sent and wait started. She checked the Facebook messenger and we checked the group. Thirty minutes passed, then forty, then fifty, then six... Eh! I mean an hour passed and no response. We were all offended and one of them even started commenting on the size of his nose. At that point the smartest person in the group spoke. "Change your profile picture and wait till the morning"

Next morning, they found her sitting under a tree outside the office. The expression on her face would have fitted on the mammoth that realized it was the last one on the face of the planet. The smartest person of the group asked "What happened? Did he respond?". In a matter of seconds, the mammoth expression changed into the one the last saber-tooth tiger would have had when it realized the animal in front was a snow leopard and not another saber-tooth tiger. She waved her mobile and said in a voice seething with anger "Here, have a look. What do you see?" "Hey! He has responded." responded the smart one with excitement in his voice. But she was in no mood to humour him or us. "Respond my foot! What is the one word you see through the message?" We crowded around the mobile and looked. We went through the messages and looked up in confusion. We saw the word livid written on her face as she shouted "Madam! You fools, madam. The fellow is only a couple of years younger than I but has the nerve to call me a madam. Not once or twice but in every goddamned sentence. Am I his English teacher for him to call me a madam? In which angle do I look like a madam? No, don't even think of answering that question." We looked at her speechless. The song "Aigiri nandini" was running in our heads.

The considerate one in our crowd took her in her arms and said "Hey! Don't lose your heart. We will work out something." The confident one came up and said "This is good news. He has started talking and you have to continue talking. He should realize that he is a mad man to call you madam. Madam and my dear are not too far apart. They nearly sound the same." She looked up, wiped a tear drop from the corner of her left eye and said with hope in her voice "Do you think so?".

Thus, began a love story.

Shallow thoughts

I have been called shallow by many. Of late, I get the feeling being called so is a compliment (which I have been recently made to believe is very different from complement - some unclean illegitimate children must have framed this language). I have realized shallow denotes change. Did I hear some voices say "What!", "How!" and even a "Get out of here!"? It's true! Being shallow implies being ready for change. Let me remind you of that famous quote from the Shakespearean times. "Luck favours the shallow, for they are here today, evaporated tomorrow."

Influence from God knows where

The first impression was not an impression at all. Just a person who walks into one's life to exist for sometime and then fade away. Somewhere along the way the talks made an impact. The thoughts were fresh, not quite like what was heard before. The force of character, though not obvious, reaches across. One had to sit up and take notice. Then little things catches notice. Soon, life is changed. One does not look at things as before. The way ahead is not straight. The scary by-lanes look inviting. When one realizes the destination is not written in stone ... Well, it's not even written on sand. One realizes any path is good enough. Going down that scary by-lane is no longer an adventure, it is part of the plan. One cannot reach the destination unless that path is taken.

Among all the good and bad the person brings in, the good stays on forever.

Excuses and reasons

"Tell me a joke."

"You are an intelligent person. Is that a joke?"

"No, that is a statement and a fact."

**********

"We had completed our work on that piece of art when she came and said it was incomplete. She painted some more and spoiled it. We had to redo it. When we asked her why she did it, she got angry and poured paint on us. That messed up one of our watches"

"Yes, I saw that too."

"You! But you are not supposed to be here at all"

"Hee hee hee"

**********

"How did the practice go?"

" Oh! It went well. Anyway, there's no way we can do better than this."

**********

"Ahhhh! My leg pains."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. My leg pains and I am unable to eat lunch."

"What is the relation between your pain and eating?"

"I am unable to sit and eat. I have had enough."

"Oh! So that is the reason. Eat eat eat."

**********

"All of you, sit on the floor."

"I will not. I am injured"

"SIT ON THE FLOOR."

"NO, I AM INJURED."

"Where?"

"On my hip."

"Okay."

"Isn't it time for games?"

"Games? But aren't you injured?"

"Oh! That I can manage."

Something to say

Can hear my insides say so
Can see what my outsides show
Voices in my head cry in woe
Surely through the midway
Could go away any day

What have I done yet
A few successes met
Still life is not set
To give it all away
Go my own way

Now that I am staying
What should I be doing
Where hypocrites are ruling
Maybe I should shut up
Watch others mess up

Isn't life a brilliant joke?
I don't listen to what I say
No quiet for me
All those words stuck in my head
Kept too long from the world
Get them out before it's too late

A house of cards after all

I have a weird relationship with English. I have no personal memory of my usage of the language in my early days. My sister tells me that a few of my relatives made me talk in English and laughed at my usage. Fortunately, I don't remember such incidents and feel no animosity to them (due to these incidents at least). The other memory of my usage of this language exists due to my attempt at story writing at the unripened age of eight. Many years later, I read these lines with embarrassment.  I remember being inspired by my readings of Champak and wrote about two boys entering a haunted house whispering something to each other. Of course, I did not know the word whisper at that point and wrote "A said to B slowly..."

I remember almost nothing of the English I learnt in my school and college days. I remember the story "The Malefactor" through which I understood metaphor. I got to know the existence of the word malefactor too (which does not mean male-factor though some women might believe they mean the same). The other memory stays close to my heart - the poem "confessions of a born spectator" by Ogden Nash. I was shocked to see the American poet describing me; a born spectator too lazy to even cheer the players. Other than these and a few terms like noun and verb, everything else is hidden in the mist of disinterest.

In my 20's, I fell in love with P G Wodehouse's writings. His humour and his use of language had and still has a huge impact on me. He has an irreverent attitude towards english and twists it the way he wants to. It's difficult not to laugh and love words such as

"What ho!" I said.

"What ho!" said Motty.

"What ho! What ho!"

"What ho! What ho! What ho!"

After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.

Wodehouse paved the way for humour in my writings. He inspired me to break the few rules I knew in English. Since these writings were in the form of letters to my parents, I had an adoring audience.

At some point in my career, I moved into managerial roles and all my work focused on talking to people, creating presentations, excel sheets and documents. I was not bad at these activities but I was not very good either. I was in the 80 percent category and in a world made up of 40 percents acting 100 percent, 80 percent is excellent. Soon I became the "go to" person to create documents and presentations.

Thus the building of my tower of Babel began. My insecurities of the past ensured that I focused on the mastering English without focusing on its rules. I wrote from my heart, I feel and if it sounded right, I thought it was right. People around did not correct me but wah-wahed me ahead (Oh! BTW, that wah-wahed is my tribute to PGW). The tower went higher and I started writing a blog. Almost no one knew its existence but I loved what I wrote and the tower grew further.  The tower reached its pinnacle when I started writing poems. I felt I had come a long way and declared myself the emperor of the English land and my palace, the tower of ego that I had built over two decades.

And then I messed it all up. I decided to teach at a school. I ended up teaching in a school where every teacher is an expert in one or two subjects and English. Worse, the children themselves thought like literature graduates.  I felt like the characters in that movie who ended up "paaden" instead of "pardon".  Though there were minor mmmm-hmmmms and aah-haaaas initially, matters became grave when a young colleague trained her guns at me. One day I blurted out a unpolite instead of impolite and since then she hawks almost everything I say and write. I am reminded of the song "Every breathe you take" by The Police.

Every where you go

Every word you say

Every line you write

Every thought you think

I'll be correcting you

Oh! What a humiliating fall. To be treated thus by a person whose conversations largely consisted of "goo goo ga ga" while I was watching Chris Cornell sing "Black Hole Sun" ominously on MTV, is painful.

But like all clouds this one has a silver lining. I only have to find it to turn this fall into a rise. The evil ones of the 90s will never win over the 70s. We have The Beatles but you have to make do with the Backstreet boys. Ha! Take that.

Little words

The little one suggested “I am a plant and I am swaying.”  Another not so little one retorted “You are so little that you only have to stand.”  The little one was offended and responded with hurt in his voice “Oh! That is such a rude compliment.”

********

The speaker was talking on the ecstasy of watching movies.  He said “Who doesn’t love the thrill of seeing the dead calf in the pit!” The malayalee at the rear of the audience shrugged and said “What! What is he talking about?” His neighbours looked at him surprised and asked “You don’t know which movie that is?”  “No” responded the malayalee. “But it is a Malayalam movie” said the friends. The malayalee shrugged his shoulders and said “I don’t watch movies.”

********

The children surrounded the teacher and started talking.  Suddenly one of them asked the teacher "Why are so funny?". The teacher responded in an offended tone "I am a serious person". The children walked away laughing.

********

The boy walked up to the teacher. Hurt was written all over his face. He said in his sad yet booming voice "all of them are saying I am in love with her" pointing at a girl nearby. The girl looked up, shrugged her shoulders and said "I don't care".

********

The Frisbee missed the teacher's throat by a whisker. He looked at the boy who had thrown it and shouted "are you trying to kill?" Almost instantly the boy shouted back "no I am like cancer. I will kill you inch by inch".

********

"Can I tell you a joke?" asked the 10 year old innocently. "Sure" said the teacher. "You know there was this guy who wanted to put his wife's picture on Facebook. By mistake he put it on OLX. Tee hee hee." The teacher stared at the child and asked in a stupid tone "did it happen to someone you know?" The child's answer was prompt "I think it happened in Nepal or somewhere but then the news went to US and came back as a joke to India"

********

"I had ten pooris yesterday afternoon and you know what!"

"What?"

"My mother made pooris at night too"

"You had 10 pooris?"

"Yes"

"Impossible!"

"Really, I did. My father did not have his pooris and I had his too."

"How many pooris?"

"Many many pooris with thakkali chutney."

Being normal

Pressure that you build
When you try to be better than you are
Is so high
It makes you seem worse

You don't have to hide
Your bad behind your good
All the time
Let it show through the seams

It does not mean
You let the world observe you naked
Just make sure
You have a good look at your mirror

Bother not with
Advises bestowed by nears and dears
Try being normal
With your wise and vice

Krishna yesses and nos

I can't stand tall in this ocean all alone
I told to myself
But I couldn't help myself
To leap and beckon to the blue rays who seek  might.
I weep in the in the sober darkness for freedom.
Yes and No's might be words
But you don't benefit anything from a yes or no.