Let's talk about the journey

This is what happens when you have 37 km separating you from the railway station. You get into the cab two hours ahead of the train’s departure time and spend the next one hour and forty five minutes wondering if you will make it to the station on time. Google map advised "take the lengthier 45 km route as it will get you to the station in one hour and thirty minutes. But the cab driver pooh-poohed the map's recommendation. He claimed he had inside information about Google's nexus with the cab companies. He said that Google misinforms its users to help the cab companies can make money. I did not believe him. My experience told me that the journey usually takes more time than Google's estimate. But I did not argue with the driver as I would probably end up listening the driver's complaints about the traffic and how Google maps should never be trusted for rest of the journey. Besides the driver assured me he was aware of the shortest route to the station. An hour later, we had covered a great distance but many kilometres of city roads separated the cab from its destination. The driver, in between his constant chatter, inserted the statement "the roads are too crowded at this time of the day" surreptitiously. I did not miss the statement and inquired in a tension dripping voice "will we make it?" He responded in an accusing tone "you should have started two and a half hours earlier but let's see."

The cab driver loved to talked. He talked through the journey about the various hardships faced by the Indian middle class. I listened to him with a small part of my brain. I let the remaining parts of my brain remain in anxiety. Google map promised that the cab would reach the station with fifteen minutes to spare. My eyes spent most of the time on the estimated time of arrival. Sometimes it went higher and I felt my heart pound inside my throat and at other times I let a smile play across my nearly non-existent lips. With twenty seven minutes to spare, the cab arrived the last signal prior to the destination. If I were to use Malayalam I would have said "athoru onnonnara signal ayyirunnu" which means "that was a one - one and a half signal". The cab driver took his hands off the wheel as it halted the cab behind the 167th vehicle from the signal. He complained "this is a terrible signal. It would take some time to get through this signal. You see, people cross the road when the vehicles are taking the left and the traffic gets blocked. These fellows don't use the pedestrian subway that runs underneath their feet instead they run across the roads. Most of these people are below 35 years. Their laziness in using the subway has resulted in us being stuck at this signal for so many minutes. You see an average Indian spends 40% of his life travelling. It does not matter whether he is rich or poor or whether he is traveling by Maruti or BMW. He spends 40% of his life travelling. What a waste!" By the time he reached this point of his monologue the signal had turned green twice and we were manoeuvring through the crowd of people trying to cross the road. We reached the station with twenty minutes to spare. I walked at a comfortable pace to the train and boarded it ten minutes ahead of its departure time. The train left at the designated time.

We were on the look out for a White Scorpio in the parking lot at the Pune station. The search turned out to be easier than I expected. There was only one Scorpio in the parking lot and as expected it was white in colour. As the Scorpio started its journey, I noticed the words “Syrup Xerox” on a LED display at the front of a shop. I was perplexed and tried to understand what “Syrup Xerox” meant. I realized that the words were displayed outside a grocery shop that also let people photocopy. So the syrup came from the grocery section of the shop and the Xerox came from the photocopying part of the shop. The absence of a comma between syrup and Xerox added the intrigue to the display. 

I did not notice enough of Pune to form an impression. But as the car left the city, I noticed garbage strewn by the sides of the road. This was not everyday garbage thrown by the people in that area but large amounts of garbage dumped systematically. I came to the conclusion that the Pune remained clean by dumping its garbage out of the city. As the Scorpio proceeded further, the sides of the road got cleaner. Many villagers walked by the side of road purposefully. All of them wore simple white pyjama–kurta with a traditional white cap over their heads. One of the villager wore a large multicoloured turban over his head. The colours on the turban were neon bright and did not fit his remaining attire. His brisk walk reminded me of Gandhi’s walk to Dandi.

An hour into the journey, the driver asked if we would like to have a cup of tea. We were not really interested but out of politeness said “hmmmm aaaaaaa”. The driver persisted by saying that we should try the tea as it is the speciality of Pune. We gave in with a hesitant “OK”. As we got off the Scorpio, the driver said “it is good to have a tea during these long drives”. The tea shop was called “Yevala Amruttulya”, which as per the driver had around 90 branches across Pune and its suburb. They did not serve anything other than a single type of tea in their shops. The shop by itself was an average sized place with a big white board containing the shop’s name written in red announcing its presence. 

As I walked into the shop I noticed the brown coloured liquid boiling in a large vessel. A person was attempting to take out the last drop of tea trapped within the boiled tea leaves by relentlessly tightening the cloth that held it. Each cup of tea costed ten Rupees. It tasted as I expected it to taste. Milky and sweet with a strong flavour of cardamom. Though it did not have any flavour of tea, I loved it. It reminded me of payasam. The journey lasted two and a half hours. I spent the next three days with a mobile phone that could only be used as a paper weight. 

The Pune station was crowded beyond description. Fortunately, we had decided to spend the two hour we had in a café and not the station. We watched the India – England world cup cricket match as we bit into our respective sandwiches and sipped our coffee. We stayed at the café for longer than the time required to eat a sandwich and drink a cup of coffee. The large café was practically empty in the afternoon and for that reason, probably, we were not asked to leave. Sports does not interest me but being an Indian cricket stays at the periphery of interest. That said, I usually don’t watch cricket and so I did not really enjoy Roy and Bairstow smashing Indian bowlers. I only enjoyed the two wickets that fell a few minutes prior to us leaving the café. 

We continued to track the score as we got into the train. As we sat and discussed about the match, a middle aged woman sitting beside me asked in a mix of broken Hindi and English “Is Bairstow out?” I said “No”. She let out an annoyed “Paradesinge!” A fellow passenger started streaming the match live to satiate his fellows passenger’s interest in cricket. The lady was thrilled. She was completely immersed in the match. Every time the English batsmen pounded the Indian bowlers she hurled abuses at the Indians. When Bairstow got out she knew who should come in next. But to her utter contempt someone else walked in. She half screamed “this fellow is a waste. They should have sent the other fellow”. Sure enough, the new batsmen walked back to the pavilion in a matter of minutes and the other fellow, whose name I don’t remember, walked in. Much to her annoyance the match went as per her prediction and she hurled curses and abuses at the Indian bowlers. She went to sleep at around the time the Indian innings started. Next morning she asked to me in Tamil “what happened to the match?” On informing her the result she said “Waste fellows! They should not have let them score 300 runs.”

Little excitements

She gets into the school bus at 6:40 am. The bag on her shoulders, though not big, reaches half her height. She walks slowly down the aisle and chooses the second seat on the left. Sometimes, she chooses the third seat on her left. She does not bother to remove the bag off her shoulders and rests her back against it. She looks out of the window as the bus passes through various places that look familiar. Sleep hovers right behind her eyelids but she holds it back by keeping her eyelids open. The bus stops at a few other stops and she looks at the children getting into the bus with disinterest. Neither she nor the new entrants bother to greet each other. They had only known each other for a few days. Besides it was too early in the morning to greet. As the bus approaches the final stop, she moves towards the aisle side of her seat, cranes her neck and looks through the windshield. She sees a white Honda City with a father and daughter standing beside it. Her face brightens up. Suddenly, the sleep that was hovering behind her eyelids vanishes. She, unable to contain her excitement, jumps in her seat and as the little girl gets into the bus starts chanting “Subbu, Subbu, Subbu,…”. The little girl walks up to the her smiling shyly. She is welcomed with a hug and a series of tickles. They laugh and chat for the remaining part of the journey.

In the evening, the two girls wait for the bus to commence its journey. They talk about the day’s activities as they wipe away the sweat from their forehead with their arms. As the bus starts moving, they become quiet and start observing the sights that pass them. Occasionally, they start a conversation but it does not prolong for long. When the bus approaches the second stop, the little girl who had got into the bus at 6:40 am cranes her head to look through the windshield. She sees her mother waiting for her at the stop with her baby sibling sleeping in the pram. She, unable to contain her excitements, jumps in her seat and starts chanting “Mama, mama, mama, …” As soon as the bus stops and the doors open, she runs through the aisle, down the steps and out of the door into her mama’s arms. Subbu looks at the scene with a smile on her lips. As the bus starts moving, she rests her head against the back of her seat and goes to sleep; a sleep so deep that her father has to carry her to the car when the bus reaches her stop.

Perfect days

I was stuck in an apartment for four days hoping without much confidence for some unknown people to walk in. As expected, no one came and I had plenty of time to spare. So I lay on the couch, dragged a chair besides me, placed the laptop on it, switched it on, plugged the headphone jack into the laptop and placed the headphone over my ears. That was the beginning. Ten movies in four days. None of the movies can be called classic. Many of them had a B-grade feel to it but except for one sentimental nonsense I loved watching each of them. For the few hours the movies held my complete attention and all my worries could not cross through my thought horizon. The movies went thus.

1. I always thought this monster destroyed humans. I was surprised to realise that it is a friend and saved humanity from massive destruction. Poor SFO and Golden gate got destroyed in the process of saving humanity. None of the set of monsters cared about the human beings through the movie. They were more interested in each other. 
2. There are no Bruce movies that I have disliked. I confused this with another movie, which was a mega flop. Turns out that the movie was a hit and was also liked by the critics. It was a gripping movie that went nowhere. I mean the situation at the end of the movie was same as the beginning. I don't think I have seen too many movies like this.
3. I have seen the trailers of this movie when it was released and was keen to watch it. But I had watched another movie which I thought was similar to this and hence decided to give it a skip. Thursday morning after my breakfast, I settled into the couch to watch this heaven and hell movie. It was amazing. I still think it was similar to the other movie but that doesn't reduce the fun one bit. A dark movie dripping with eeriness. It lingered in my mind for a few hours.
4. I had not heard of this movie but got interested when I realised that it was about a famous serial killer. The feel of the movie was great but the big revelation towards the end was disappointing. It was too ridiculous for expectation and acceptance. That said I liked the way the movie ended. The movie stayed with me till late in the night when the lonely darkness of the apartment made me uneasy.
5. I have always been comforted by the presence of Matthew Mcconaughey in a movie. When I see him on the screen I get the feeling that the rest of the characters are safe. The only issue with this is that Matthew Mcconaughey ends up being Matthew Mcconaughey in all his movies. While this would be a weakness with other actors, it’s a strength for Matthew. But even Matthew could not save this movie. It is a boring real life based sport movie. The first half of the movie was reasonably engrossing but the second half was a bore. By the end of the movie I was browsing Wikipedia to determine its accuracy. The second half was not very accurate. 
6. I have never heard of this movie but found its name interesting. Also it had aliens in it and I was in an aliens kind of mood. The internet claimed it used the concept of aliens to talk about the segregation that exists in our society. The movie began well. The documentary style was done well. The humour and the ridiculous situations were brought out well. The main character played his role well. Towards the middle, the makers started struggling to maintain the documentary format. So they dropped it and the movie for few minutes turned into a mundane aliens movie. The movie ended in an interesting manner though.
7. I was young when the original movie was released. I was old enough to watch that movie but I was not interested. So I let Schwarzenegger and his gang fight the invisible aliens. Many decades later, I decided to watch the reboot version of the movie. It turned out to be one of those movies that captures one’s attention as long as one lives through it. At the end of it I felt a disinterested “Myaaah!” run through me.
8. This movie was the only funny movie among the ten. Four old men biking across the country behaving like leather rebels when in life they are losers in one manner or other. Definitely not a great movie but I laughed a few times and felt amused during a few others.
9. Tom Cruise is the emperor of action movies. At some point of time, when I look back at the Tom Cruise movies I have seen, I would not be able to separate one from the other. Most of his movies are similar. I mean they all have Tom Cruise in them and regardless of the name of the character he is enacting he always is Tom Cruise. This is a good addition to that list. The one slight twist from his usual movies is that this one has aliens in it. It seemed like an action and aliens filled version of Groundhog’s day. The movie had the ability to capture my attention and that makes it a good movie to watch.
10. This movie was not in the list of movies I was planning to watch. I had a few hours to spare and I had already watched half of this two hour and forty five minute movie. So I closed my laptop, pushed it back into the bag, fished out the mobile from my pocket and continued watching it. Under normal circumstances I would not have watched this movie. But I was in a mood for utter nonsense and this movie provided it in ample amounts. Mamooty and Suresh Gopi screamed every word they uttered; many of them in annoyingly polished English. Suresh Gopi acted as a top cop and Mamooty as an IAS something who had enough power to call the home minister of India a bastard and land a kick on his chest while the minister’s Z-level security watched the fun with their guns held safe in their hands. The movie was released in the first decade of 2000s and one could easily identify all the politicians of that time in the movie. The best dialogue in the movie landed from Suresh Gopi’s lips, which probably exists underneath his thick moustache, when he admonishes one of his subordinates for mistreating a Muslim man. The golden words when thus “You treat this man so badly because of this cap he is wearing.” A wonderful movie that made me laugh every time I should not have.

Alibaugh

A few months earlier, I decided to like a few BBC pages on Facebook not with the intent of keeping abreast with the happenings across this bloody planet of ours. I found their humour interesting, especially the bits and pieces of the Graham Norton Show. I have not seen an entire episode of this show yet and don’t believe I will ever do so either. But I love watching the three to five minutes snippets available on social media.

Every day, the BBC pages threw some wonderfully humorous entries at me. Some of them actually made me laugh aloud. Soon a name started standing out from among these entries. At first I ignored it but soon my curiosity got better of me and I typed the name Fleabag in the Google search bar. Google came back with the image of an actress whom I had seen in one of the Graham Norton snippets. I understood that Fleabag is the name of an acclaimed series on BBC. I was also thrilled to see that the series was available in Amazon Prime. The various sites also cautioned me that contents of the series were of sexual nature and fathers of teen aged children should preferably watch these episodes behind closed doors else they would not have an opportunity to talk to their growing children about bees and birds.

I watched two episodes of the series one evening and was unable to digest the amount of bees and birds the episodes served. I decided to give the series a break for a few days and come back afresh. Two days later, I sat in front of the television and completed the two seasons of Fleabag within two days. I would not say I was blown away by it (Hmmmm!) but I found it interesting. Fleabag conversing with audience verbally and visually is the star attraction of the series. Phoebe Weller is so good at it that at times I felt I was actually observing a friend’s life. Would it not be great to have a friend like Fleabag! I mean not an intimate friend but more like a neighbour you know for a few months. So you know her well enough to know the happenings in her life and yet have not known her long enough to be attached to these happenings.

Maybe we should make something called Alibaugh about a desi Fleabag who lives in Alibaugh. Of course, since she is a desi in her thirties she would be married. Her marriage would be six or eight years old, which is just enough time for the husband and wife to be tired of each other and yet not long enough for them to ignore each other. Being a desi couple from Alibaugh they would not dare to break the conventions of the society and walk away from each other. The tussles of a Fleabag like character in such a situation would be interesting to observe. 

On the road again

The road curved to the left. Much to my surprise, the pavement to my left seemed good enough to walk. I pulled up my pants and climbed the pavement. As I reached the curve, I saw a fat cylinder bodied dog coming towards me. It froze on seeing me. I could see an expression of discomfort on its face. It looked left, right and finally at me. The worry in its eyes had doubled. It turned around and walked away from me. A few metres later, it turned around and was once again disturbed by my presence. It seemed to me that it had hoped that I will turn around and walk away on seeing its discomfort. It did not wish to proceed further in this manner. It ducked into an opening on the side of the pavement and disappeared under the pavement. Soon I realized that it had disappeared into the rain water channel underneath the pavement. I wondered the reason for the dog’s discomfort at my sight. I thought I had imagined it. Many dogs had crossed my path earlier. Almost all of them did not even care to recognize my existence. So I wondered why this dog, as strange as it was, reacted to me thus. I turned around to check if the dog was still hiding under the pavement. I saw that it had emerged from under the pavement and was walking confidently away from me.

The road continued to curve this way and that. At times, it crossed crowded roads filled with impatient people and vehicles. At certain places, houses occupied both sides of the road. At other places, swanky glass walled office buildings lined its sides. At one place, I found a vacant land to the left side of the road. As is usually the case, the land was filled with garbage. Among the garbage was a laptop bag with the picture of a lady printed on it. The lady now lay a few feet under the ground, surrounded by the sound of the sea in a neighbouring state.

I continued to walk and reached a crossing. The signal turned red for the vehicle coming from my right. A scooter with a rider and an elderly lady in the pillion came to a sudden halt with its fore wheel beyond the stop line. Another motorbike with a young lady in the pillion stopped behind the stop line. The lady called out to the person driving the scooter and curtly directed him to move behind the stop line. He clumsily  moved the scooter behind stop line. I waited for the signal to turn green for me to cross the road. As I crossed the road I noticed the name of the shop across the road. It read "Cocks, the complete men's shop"

As the cab reached the top of the flyover my eyes were level with the name board of a hotel. Underneath the name, the location of the hotel was written as “Silicon Valley, India”. My attention was disturbed by a Thunderbolt that zipped past us. The rider seemed to be a twenty something. He wore his helmet as a bracelet on his left arm. He guarded his head with a JBL headset. As the flyover turned towards earth, he slowed his bike a bit. He took both his hand off the handle bar, removed the headset off his head and wore it around his neck like a large necklace. He removed his helmet from his arm and placed his precious head into it. The process took around ten seconds and during this time the Thunderbolt took care of its direction on its own. His hands were back on the handle bar by the time the bike stopped at the signal beyond the flyover. In a matter of seconds, the rider’s personality had changed.
I looked at the beginning of the lake through the cab’s open windows. I had seen it a few times earlier but only noticed the half submerged mandapam right at the beginning of the lake now. I don’t think it was an ancient mandapam but in my mind I imagined a young princess splashing the water lightly with her feet as she impatiently waited for lover. The imagination was disturbed by the stink of garbage. A garbage truck stood on the road besides the lake surrounded by a number of garbage push carts. A few uniformed person were sorting through the garbage and segregating them into plastic covers. The stink of the garbage remained strong for a few minutes. The scene turned to worse with open drains and garbage from the drain strewn around. It took two hundred metres for the scene to change and by this time the cab turned away from the lake and I was once again surrounded by concrete.

The delivery man rings twice

The doorbell rang. I looked at the door surprised. I was not expecting anyone. I went up to the door and opened it. I should have looked through the peephole but I did not have the habit of doing so. Besides the lens on the outside of the peephole was scratched and I could not have seen anything anyway. As soon as I opened the door, I found myself staring at a paper bag. The bag was held by a person who said “Your delivery sir”. I felt confused and said “what delivery?” “Your food sir” was the response. I was perplexed. “But I did not order any food.” “Isn’t this 206?” he questioned. I felt disoriented and looked at the number plate on the door. It said 206 and so I had to admit “yes” but I was also force to add “but I did not order any food”. He was perplexed and shoved his mobile at me as he said “look at the address sir. It says 206.” He was right. It said 206 and then I realized the mistake. “Not in this building but the next one.” I said in a sympathetic voice. Embarrassed he looked at the address and asked “Is this not Raj-something?” I said “No! This is Raj-something-else. The next building is Raj-something”. He apologized sheepishly and walked away.

I had targeted watching nine movies in four days. I mean I did not target it at the beginning but it became a target at some point of time. I was in the middle of the eighth movie when the doorbell rang. I looked at the door surprised. I was not expecting anyone. I went up to the door and opened it. I did not bother to look through the peephole. As soon as I opened the door, I found myself staring at a paper bag. The bag was held by a person who said “Your delivery sir”. I did not feel confused and asked “Can I check the address” He showed his mobile phone to me. I smiled as said “This is Raj-something-else. The next building is Raj-something”. He did not understand and asked for clarification “but isn’t this 206?” I explained patiently “This is 206 but this apartment is called Raj-something-else but you have to deliver this package at 206 in apartment Raj-something, which is the next building. “The next building is it?” “Yes, the next building.” “Sorry!”

Ride in a metro in a metro

She took care of my career with a lot of affection during its early days. I was fresh from college and had little patience for the company methods and processes. She used a combination of coaxing and threatening to guide me through those heady days. Six years into my career she helped me take an important decision. It took me years to look back and be convinced that she had helped take the right decision. Without doubt she had an annoying side too and I did not agree with many of her points of view. But those don't seem very important today. I talked to her after a decade two years ago when I switched my career. Yesterday, I called her again and decided to meet her. She said “why don’t you come over now? There is a direct train from your place to mine.” 

The metro ride to her house was quick and without incidents. I got down at her stop and in a short time found myself in the mall that separated her apartment complex and the metro station. Not for the first time, I found getting out of the mall a challenge. Once I parked my car in a mall that I had visited earlier. When I went up the escalator, I realized that I had landed in the newly constructed extension of the mall. This extension was not connected to the older one and its orientation was very different from the older mall. I walked down the length of the extension for many minutes but could not find the mall's exit. The signboards in the mall that directed people to washrooms, fire exits and shops but not the exits. Since I had entered the mall from the basement, my sense of direction felt disoriented. As I walked searching for the exit my annoyance increased. The lethargic walking of the shoppers added to my annoyance. It took me twenty minutes to get out of that mall. Though not as annoying, yesterday’s walk through the mall contained similar elements of annoyance. As I walked into the mall from the metro station I did not know the floor I walked into, if I should go right or left to find the escalator and if the exit was to the right or left. Using my immense brain power I guessed that I had walked into the first floor of the mall, the escalator was to my left and the exit was to my right. I was right about the first and third point. But the second point had a problem, there was an escalator to the right too. 

As with most apartment complexes of today, this complex was covered with a maximum security cordon. As I walked in, the security personnel whipped out his mobile phone and asked me for my mobile number, which is probably more important than one's name these days, and my name. He clicked on an application on his screen and waited. He waited some more before turning to his colleague and complaining in a frustration dripping tone “Arre! Yahan mobile tower tho milta hee nahin hain!” He moved two steps to his right and the application opened. He asked me for the details again. I responded patiently. He asked me for the number of the apartment I was planning to visit. I responded with an alphabet followed by three numbers. Interestingly, this seems to be becoming the Indian standard for numbering apartments in apartment complexes. An alphabet referring to the block number followed by floor number and the apartment number. I am proud to say that the apartment complex I stay in is different. In our case, the first digit stands for the block number, the next two numbers for the floor number and the last number for the apartment number. What I like about this number scheme is that the apartment number also has a numeral and an alphabet in the front, which none of us use for we have no idea what it means. I like this element of mystery. If I want someone to get lost within the complex I can add the mysterious information and the person would walk around the complex trying to find an apartment that fits the complete information I have provided. He/she would never find me. Of course, I am assuming that this someone is not very smart.

When I provided the apartment number to the security personnel, his faced lighted up. He said “Oh! Mr. so and so’s apartment.” At that moment, I realized that I did not know her husband’s name. The security personnel was ready to escort me to the apartment but I convinced him that I was smart enough to find the apartment if he can inform me whether I should go right and then left or left and then right. Apparently, the latter was closer to reality with an additional right at the end. As I walked through the complex, I compared it with the complex I stay in and declared… No, I should not display my arrogance. 

It was a pleasant evening. We talked about events that took place couple of decades ago. We remembered all those forgotten names and faces. We thanked that we no longer had to deal with some of those names and faces. She served me a dish that I had not had for sometime and had forgotten about. I thanked her profusely for her kindness and walked out happy. Though we parted with a “we will be in touch”, I felt the words will not come true. 

The maneuvered the way back to the metro station professionally. As I walked down the stairs to the metro station, I saw a train pull into the platform. I considered running and even took a step. But I realized that the granite floor was too smooth for me to run on. I was barely able to walk without slipping. I walked to the platform and sat on a chair. I took out my mobile and called one of my ex-colleagues. The fellow did not believe in mobile phones and could only be reached through a landline. His sister picked the phone and said he was not home yet. She said he will ask him to call back. He did not call back and I think it is time for me to drop another piece of luggage from my life.

All the seats in the train were occupied. I stood at in the open gangway connecting two of the coaches. Soon, the person sitting in the seat besides me got up. I looked at the seat and was suddenly reminded of a social media video. I looked up and realized, as in the video, the seat was reserved for the elderly persons, pregnant women or people with disability. No one fitting these descriptions were present in the immediate vicinity and so the seat remained unoccupied. I wondered if I should occupy the seat but hesitated. By this time, a person from behind me pushed me aside and occupied the seat. Once again I was thankful for someone else taking the decision on my behalf. 

The train stopped at the next station. The doors opened, a few people got out while others got in. The doors closed and the train started moving. A lady went to the person who had just occupied the seat and stood in front of him. She pointed at her growing belly. He looked at her sheepishly and got up. I looked at the scene with a growing sense of satisfaction and leaned back against the wall of the gangway. Like most metro coaches, this one was also filled with discomforting whispers. My eyes roamed around the coach but was soon arrested by a small breakage near the top. The metro lines were not smooth and the carriages jerked up and down at many locations along the route. This motion resulted in a tear at the top gangway as it slammed against the ceiling of the coach. I looked at it and wondered the cause of the issue. Could it be the bad design of the coach or was the laying of the tracks at fault?