Points of view

Up here, the nights are never quiet. This went against expectation but none were disappointed. The noisiness was quite unlike anything usually heard in cities. A constant chatter between little creatures about their travails in life. Everyone listened intently but could not understand a word of conversation. They could not even identify one voice from another let alone the words. Worse, they did not even understand the direction from which the chatter came from. So they sat silently and listened to the wordless chatter. At regular interval, a series of hoots would emanate from above their heads. It was almost a regular night for the residents of that location. Yeah! I said almost. They had the human presence in their midst. Though they had spent the last thirty minutes in silence, they were at our usual noisy best prior to that. They brought in another disturbance to their everyday lives by building a campfire. The crackling sound, the heat and the bright orange light from the fire seemed to add to the beauty of the place, that is, from their point of view. But the residents did not think so; they were probably covering their eyes with their forelegs and cribbing on this unfair intrusion.

I sat against a tree under and watched him. He was close to the fire and his face flared up and down with it. He was looking around from person to person with a smile on his face. No one seemed to notice; the dancing flames seemed to have hypnotized everyone and they found it difficult to break out of their respective states of trance. But he did not look at the fire. He was eagerly trying to catch anyone's attention. I felt a pang of sadness for him. He had this constant hunger to be the center of attraction. He had to be the life of every party. He had to be the one with the best stories, best jokes, best one-liners, ... He basically wanted to be the best person anyone could wish to have around him/her. I am not saying he was terrible at these. On the contrary, his stories, jokes and one-liners were very good. His story-telling technique captured everyone's interest. The problem was that he was relentless. He had to be loved by all. No, not loved! He had to be adored by all. No, not even adored! He had to be worshiped by all. Instead, all he received was scorn and mockery. Everyone found him pushy and tried their best to avoid him. But he did not give up neither did he get angry. He tried harder and that worsened his position. I felt sad at this situation and looked him with pity. But I have no idea what he felt. He just moved from one ridiculous situation to another.

"Why are you all so quiet? It seems like a funeral gathering. Wake up, boys and girls. Its time for a story."

"We came here to get some peace. So please spare us from your spook stories."

"Spook stories! No way; this one's a love story. It is a true story and I recount it to you as my friend did to me.

I am not quite sure when she joined the organization. One day, she moved into the cubicle behind mine. Initially, she would not even smile at me or anyone else for that matter. She would avert her eyes away from me whenever I crossed her path. So you could imagine my shock when, a few days later, she pat me on my back and said "Good morning mister". I turned around and stared at her smiling face for a few seconds and then found the voice to return her good morning. Since then, we started interacting with each other regularly. As time passed, most in the office realized that she was not the quiet person she seemed during the initial days. She was boisterous. When she talked everyone in office heard it. When she laughed everyone in the office laughed. She loved to shock people by slapping them on their backs. The strength of the slap usually indicated her liking for that person. 

She was liked by all and everyone liked her. Eh! I mean, she liked everyone and everyone was liked by her. No! That's not right either. She liked everyone and everyone liked her. Ah! Right! She brought life into the office and all of us loved the time we spent there. It goes without saying that every man in the office was in love with her. One of the fellows, confessed his passionate love for her to his friends. His friends called her immediately and made a joke out his passion for her. She did not laugh and sympathy oozed out of her eyes. The poor fellow left with tears in his eyes. She remonstrated his friends for their heartlessness. For the next few days, things sobered down in the office. She avoided slapping anyone of their back. She did not talk much. Now, the men exuded the charm of wilted grass. The office turned graver than the days before her arrival.

The Navaratri festival brought back some of the lost vigour. The office turned colourful. She was back to her effervescent best and smiles flashed all around. The Dandiya was arranged on the terrace and people swirled around clashing sticks to loud songs. All the twirling and clashing sticks had made me tired and thirsty. I went down to the office to have a swig of water. As I entered the office, I saw her and the quietest fellow in office who loved to sit in his corner and stare at the screen or out of the window, standing face-to-face. They did not notice my arrival but continued to maintain their stance. 

'How long do we maintain this pose?'

'I don't know'

'Don't you feel like moving in a little'

'No, humans cannot move any closer to Gods'

'But Gods can move closer to humans. What would happen then?'

I could not control my tongue and blurted out at that moment 'That would be disastrous. The world is already struggling to with the likes of Percy Jackson'.

They turned around and looked at me. Their expressions had a combination shock and disgust. Her stare, in particular, bore right into the my soul. She stomped off through the door and was never seen in the office again. None of us could ever determine what happened to her; the damned HR fellow maintains is so obsessed with confidentiality that he will not utter a word about her. Was she offended by what I said? Did she not come back to office due to that trivial comment? That sounds silly. I don't understand why she should be upset by my innocent statement. In fact, I thought it was funny."

He stopped talking and looked around; a proud smile adorned his face. The people around were staring at him. Some had their mouth opened in astonishment. As I said earlier, the fellow was a good story teller and so everyone was immersed in the story. But the ending had annoyed them. They protested in quick succession "that's it!", "but where the hell is the romance!" "this is more horrifying than your horror stories", "how will we sleep through the night" and it went on. He listened to all these with a smile. From time to time, he let out a syllable or two but the torrents of comments did not allow them to become words. By this time, the little creatures in the area had directed their attention to them. They started protesting vehemently. They were unable to hear each other due to the commotion caused. They unleashed their ultimate weapons on the humans; their blood thirsty flying warriors who were efficient in their attack. All the noise makers ran for their lives. He stayed on though. The smile was off his face for the first time that evening. He looked at the dying flames listlessly. A tear drop formed in the corner of his left eye. Soon tears were flowing down both his cheeks. He did not try to wipe away the tears.

I'm talking about love

Everyone was concerned about age catching up with the well loved bachelor in the group. Wherever they went they attempted to identify the woman of his life by scanning the horizon. But this effort can be compared to searching for a needle in a haystack. It is said that marriages or partnerships or whatever its called today are made in heaven. I think not! The ones in heaven are not in control either. The heavenly creatures taking care of these connections and interconnections are probably shrugging their shoulders and uttering frustrated "Why us!" as I write these lines.

As ever, the discussion around the table was about this bachelor's marriage. The one's who had experienced marriage were presenting arguments on the futility of this institution; the younger ones with a shade of romance and the older one with stoic resignation. The bachelor from time to time tried to say something but his words were smothered down by the talkers. The other bachelors and spinsters looked from face to face in silence with expressions bordering on "what the hell are these old hags talking". But they did not dare to open their mouth for they were worried that the smothering might go beyond their words. 

The conversation went here, there and then elsewhere before settling, an hour and half later, to a comfortable nowhere. At the end of the day, it was like an episode of the sitcom Friends. Every time an ardent fan talked about an episode, the casual fan would only have a vague memory of having seen or heard it. The ardent fan would continue with a "don't you remember? It was in episode 5 of season 11 in the 5th year prior to the turn of the century." The casual fan to end the discussion would agree "Oh yes! I remember, the one with Joey and Ross drinking coffee right?" Many days later, while watching a rerun they would come across the episode and realize "so this is what that fellow was talking about is it? Oh! Now I get it." Most, if not all, spinsters and bachelors have to live through marriage to understand the words of the expounders.

I like using the word institution for marriage. The definition of institution is "an organization founded for a religious, educational, professional, or social purpose." Its true, isn't it? Let us have a look at all those forbidding words in that definition.

1. Organization: mean an organized group of people with a particular purpose. The purpose seems to be clear, at least to everyone other than the ones getting married.  Even the ones who are not yet married have played their parts in this organization by growing up in it.

2. Religious: Survey's around the globe have found that 84% to 87% of marriages have religion associated with it in one form or other and at one time or other.

3. Education: Marriage is all about education. First the spouses get educated about each other and their families (actually, this could go on for a lifetime). Once children make an entry, all education is centered around them.

4. Profession: means a paid occupation, especially one that involves prolonged training and a formal qualification. Doesn't that definition sound terrible? I have known and been in professions that did not pay anything. What the hell does "involves prolonged training and a formal qualification" mean? This definition does not fit the current age. But profession is an occupation, which means a way of spending time. There is a lot of occupation in marriage with prolonged learning.

5. Social: Social means relating to society. Isn't marriage all about society? The questions raised by the society formed a part of the one and a half hour discussion. These questions result in marriages and many results in a marriage. "Why is she/he not getting married?" "Is he/she OK? I mean he/she is alright na?" "When are they getting married? They are all around the place." "I saw them walking on mount road holding hands. You have to do something about it." "Only registering the marriage! No reception?" "Any good news?" "Congratulations!" "Any good news?" "Only one! Wouldn't he/she be lonely when he/she grows up. Poor child will have no one to fight over all this property." Marriages drive society and society drives marriages - things cannot be more social than this. 

Thus, it seems marriages fit all the tenets of an institution. It is an institution preferred over the IITs and IIMs...

What's that! Wait a minute! Silence! I hear a feeble voice say something. What did you say? I can't hear you properly. Talk louder. Ah! Love! You ask "what about love?" Haven't you heard Tina Turner sing "what's love got to do with it"?  Unfortunately, many bind love too close to marriage. They act as though love cannot exist with marriage and vice versa. Love is probably the most misunderstood word on the planet. It is defined as a strong feeling of affection. But thanks to people like Shakespeare and Dhanush it seems nothing like affection these days.

Many years ago, I had my first Eureka moment when I believed I had deciphered the essence of the word love.  It did not take place in a bathtub but happened in a "necessity is the mother of invention" type situation.

A colleague of mine brought his classmate into many conversations. This girl had the same name as a well known heroine of those days. So I listened to these conversations with some interest. Once I had an opportunity to meet her at a concert too. As time passed I moved out of the project and city. One day, I was surprised to receive a mail from him. In the mail, he announced his impending marriage to his friend. He wrote that at some point of time, they realised they wanted to spend their lives with each other. I felt happy for him and responded with a "I am not surprised".

I got a shocked response from my colleague. He was a good-natured fellow and hence did not abuse me. He stressed that they were only friends and did not intend to fall in love with each other. Love landed on them like a bolt from the blue and took them by surprise. It seemed to him that I was hinting that something was going on all along and they had hidden it from the world. He tried his best to convince me that my supposition was incorrect. I did not think there was a problem in their hiding it, if they had wanted to do so. But my hinting it, though I maintain I had not, seemed wrong. Right or wrong, I had to get out of this situation. That night, I put on KennyG's Breathless, switched off the light and lay down on the bed thinking.

It was dark when I woke up. I looked at the clock and it said 1 AM. KennyG's breath was neither less nor more. I took out a paper and pen and started writing (these were the pre-laptop on every lap days and we had to use paper and pen). What I wrote that night went as a mail to my shocked colleague the next day.

I don't think you understand what I said. I did not mean you have hidden something from us. I only mean that you were in love all along. Love is love; it does not change from person to person. The love you feel for her today is the same as you for her felt yesterday and the day before. It is same as the love you feel for you father, mother, sibling or a friend like me. What changes is the way you express it and your commitment to the person. When the two of you decided to get married, the love did not change, only its expression changed. So I am never surprised when friends decide to take a step ahead. That is reason for my not being surprised.

I sent the mail and eagerly awaited the reply. It came in a matter of hours. He was very happy with what I had written. He agreed to every word I said and we continued to be friends. At least, I think we did as that was the last time we communicated with each other.

So this institution, like others round the world, does not require love. It is all about rules and responsibilities. As in the case of other institutions, people are dying to jump into it all the time. But soon after jumping in, they are dying to jump out. Actually that statement's not true - they are dying to jump into a similar institution ad infinitum.

Carpe Diem means damn that car

"How old is this car?"

"It's a 1984 model. Part of the first lot."

"It works still?"

"It uses up equal proportion of petrol and resolve to work."

"Resolve?"

"Yes, resolve! Mine!"

"I don't understand."

"I meditate for a few minutes prior to getting into the car to build my resolve. If I am having a bad day, the meditation does not help. On such days, I leave the car wherever it is and hail an auto or taxi. No one bothers to even touch this car and so it is safe. Sometimes, it ends up being a profitable affair. The benevolent in this city, stick in money under the wiper."

"If its that bad, why don't you sell it."

"Oh! That bloody mechanic of mine is responsible for my not selling it."

"How?"

"Every time I decide to sell the and take it for a final overhaul, he throws a spanner in the works."

"How so?"

"He seems to read my intent and starts reeling off praises about the car. 'Oh! What a beautiful car. The engine is the best. They don't make engine like this anymore. It can continue working like this for a century. The suspensions were designed to be used during landing of planes. Same technology sir! You can even run it down a hill and the suspension will not have problems. Beautiful car sir. You are lucky to have it. Don't ever sell it sir.' That bloody fellow says it with such conviction that I actually end up kissing the car soon after the service. Not the mature forehead type of kiss; a full blown passionate kiss. You know what's worse? These days I can feel it responding too."

"You are making love to a car?"

"Seems so."

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.

A pathetic ode to a sweet love story

Stunned may be not from the first sight
But impacted highly when I finally realized
There is no choice for me but to fall
I did not have the ability to fight

For you it all seemed different
You resisted everything I offered
All I looked for were some innocent words
But your scare to give them were apparent

Should I go on or move on
I cant do a Robert Brucey never give up
If I dont give up this quick
Soon your resistance will mellow down

I watch, talk, write, signal and wait...