A farewell speech

The decision was made. I was informed "you will give the farewell speech to the students". I had been with them for two years and though that was two years back, I seemed a better candidate than others. I did not agree. I did not enjoy my time with this group of students. Every Wednesday, I had to spend 90 minutes with them. In those 90 minutes, I attempted to teach them physics. They spent the first 10 of the 90 minutes in resisting to settling down. Once they settled down, they listened to my utterings for 20 minutes. They spent the next 45 minutes in interrupting the session with requests to go outside and play. By this time, I usually gave up and sat down on my chair with my head resting on my palms. I felt glad when the year ended. I thought I would never have to stand in front of them and lecture. But the world had other plans.

I protested "I don't want to talk to them. As a matter of fact, I want to take off on that day". I got a stare and "no way" in response. I persisted "but I have nothing good to say about them. I don't want to lie. It will be obvious that I am lying". "Why don't you talk to them about your days at the college? It might help them." I liked the idea. I don't mean the helping them part but talking about my college days. I have never talked or written about those day and it was time I thought about it a bit.

In preparation for the talk, I opened the laptop and started writing the following.

Once again, I find myself standing in front of you.

A few decades back, I too was at the same spot as you. The years that followed in many ways defined me as I went through experiences that have added to my understanding of life. 

The aspiration of getting into a premier institute was something my parents had. But I was sure I won’t. During those days, I spent many evenings standing by the gate waiting for a telegram with the news of my admission into another institute. That telegram never came. Over the next few weeks, my self esteem hit an all time low. I still remember the evening when I walked back home from college crying. But then, the three years I spent in a city college changed me. I started working hard at what I had gotten into and working hard has remained with me since.

For a long time, I blamed physics for being the reason for my not getting into that premier institute. I did not like the subject. I knew how to score marks in physics but I did not understand it. Ironically, I ended up doing bachelor’s in physics at the city college I attended. During the three years, my opinion of the subject did not change. I thought I had seen the last of physics in my life when I started my master’s in computer science. However, that journey did not end there.  Twenty-five years later, I found myself standing in front of twenty-eight students teaching that same subject – physics!  Interestingly, the last five years have made me realize that my not understanding the subject could only be attributed to me not trying to understand the subject. As a teacher, I could not afford to do what I could as a student. I had no choice but to learn and understand every concept I taught. I now realize that the problem was not with the subject or the teachers but with my own thinking. This learning has given an insight into me as a person. 

I look back at those three years in college and realize that there are no good or bad occurrences in life. Events happen and we decide whether they are good or bad. My not getting into the premier institute was just an event. It gave way to my life at the city college where I made friends who have stayed with me till now. I have done things that I never thought I will, like controlling traffic at the Saidapet signal and providing siddha medicines at the Anna hospital. At the end of the three years, I realized that I could push myself to the limits, physically and mentally, if I had to. I also realized that one can be unsure about the future and yet feel happy. Most importantly, I realized that one cannot write off anything in life. Everything that one does or learns can come back to us later. So regardless of one’s own interest in a topic or a subject, it is good to be involved in it whole heartedly.

Another significant learning for me was when I got an experience of hostel life after my 20th year. For the first three terms, I revelled in my new-found freedom. During the three months of the second semester, my friends and I went out and watched, on an average, three movies a week. In the third term, I got a D in an important course. That D turned out to be a wake up call for me. From then on, I decided that I would only spend time with my friends when I could. Work always got the priority it demanded. When you live away from home, no one observes your day-to-day activities. So, you have to observe and guide yourself. I needed a shock to realize this but I could have missed the shock among the many diversions that living by yourself offers. 

I feel the coming years will be far more exciting and eventful for all of you than the past years. I hope all of you pause from time to time and look back at the events of preceding days or weeks or months. Take care of yourselves and have fun. I wish you all the very best.

Diary of a madman: February 2022

The rubber band that I held between the index and middle finger of my right hand brought in a thought. Can marriages be made stronger if gold rings are replaced with rubber rings? Gold is hard. To get it into a shape of one's choice, one has to put it through fire and hammer. On the other hand, the application of a light force changes the shape of a rubber band. Isn't flexibility the key for longevity of marriages. Rubber bands possess flexibility in ample quantities. So, people should throw away those gold rings and get some rubber bands. Let the thought of littering not worry you when you throw away the gold rings. I will take care of collecting the gold rings and disposing them efficiently.

I don't like to sit through meetings. I used to start meddling with my mobile when the meeting got tiresome. But now, I have been able to control my urge to … No! That's not true. Now, I have no choice but to keep my mobile away during meetings. But I am allowed to keep a notebook and pen with me. So I indulge in poetry when a meeting gets tiresome. The following lines emerged during one such tiresome moment.

To travel to the moon

One has to start from the earth

Getting out of the planet is a challenge

What with the planet grabbing you

And pulling you down to it

But if you let a rocket

Push out fire and smoke

From its hot butt

You might be able to get off 

So, I let the rocket

That contained me

Push fire and smoke

From its fiery bottom

Sure enough

We started our journey heavenwards

As the rocket and I got to the atmosphere's edge

I started chanting 

"Escape, escape, escape, escape"

My humble attempt at encouraging

The Rocket to achieve its escape velocity

As it fought the gravitational force

It shuddered and struggled

My worried mind turned spiritual and prayed

I was worried by the possibility

Of the rocket breaking into bits

Too small for even bacteria to byte into

But today was not that day

For the force was with me

We were now floating through space

The rocket and I were now

En route to the Moon

The car sped towards the school. Queensryche's Operation Mindcrime gave us good company. Suddenly, I heard my son laugh. I asked "what?" He said "this is a good song to play today." I did not understand his words. Once again, I asked "what" but this time I followed it with a "why". He responded "Today's Valentine's day but listen to the lyrics of song." I did not fail to notice the sarcasm that laced his words. I listened to Geoff Tate sing and wail passionately for a few minutes before he came back to the lines under the scanner.

I don't believe in love

I never have, I never will

I don't believe in love

It's never worth the pain that you feel

He asked if I had planned this occurrence. I assured him that it was only a coincidence.

Later, as I was having my breakfast, I was shocked to find two small blobs of pongal fly past my ears. They fell on the table close to my plate. I looked up and saw the boy who possessed the name of an ancient sage walk by. He was walking towards the wash area of the dining hall. The plate he had used to have the breakfast was swinging in his left hand. I called out his name but he did not respond. The boy was lost in his thoughts and there was no point in trying to drag him out of his train of thought. Later that day, I was walking through the campus when I found the same boy walking with another boy towards me. He was deeply involved in a monologue and the other boy shook his head at intervals. As I approached the duo I was distracted by a noise. It turned out to be the noise made by a geometry box striking the ground. When I turned my attention back to the way ahead, I found the boy with the sage's name directly in front of me. I was only a few feet away from crashing into him. He was oblivious of my existence and continued his monologue with the other boy. To avoid an embarrassing situation, I jumped out of the way. The boy took no notice of me as he walked past me. I patted on my body to ensure that I had not become a blade of grass. I stared at the receding figures of the two boys for a few seconds before shaking my head and moving on.

The busy weekend arrived finally. Unlike the other busy weekends, the busy-ness of weekends was not related to business. So, I looked forward to it. But work had the nasty habit of getting into one's life uninvited. So, a few hours of my Saturday evening was snatched by Excel sheets. Early next morning, I converted the sheets into a pdf file and sent it to the person who controlled the official id of the organization. Usually, I would send her through WhatsApp that I had sent her a mail that she had to send out through the official id. But that day was not for work and so I forgot to ping her on WhatsApp. The day passed pleasantly. I forgot to carry my laptop and as a result I had to limit work to typing out a few lines on Google Keep on my mobile. I got back home at 7 PM and at 7:30 PM I realized that I had not informed my colleague about the mail. I called her. She said she was outside the whole day and had not checked the mail. I requested her to send the mail and ended the call. Two minutes later, she called back and said "Thanks for calling. I was stuck with an who has been talking non-stop for the last 15 minutes. Usually, my mother-in-law comes to my rescue but today even she did not come to help. Your official call turned out to be a good reason for me to leave. I will send out the mail in five minutes".

2/2/22, 22:24: Missed the momentous minute of the century by 2 minutes. My son tells me that the minute was truly momentous as 2/2/22 is a 2sday.

The history teacher was talking about the wonders of Mahabalipuram. He started off by saying that the place should not be referred to as Mahabalipuram but should be called Mamallapuram. He was talking about one of the kings, Narasimhavarman II, who contributed greatly to the construction of the structures in Mamallapuram. The teacher said that Narasimhavarman II was also known by the name Raja Simha. He went on to translate this name to English "Raja stands for king and Simha means Lion". Almost immediately one of the voices from the class quipped "Oh! Lion King".

I rolled a piece of idli in the sambar on my plate and placed it on my tongue. I did not feel entirely satisfied with the taste of the combination. I attempted to distract myself by looking around. At the far end of the room, I saw three girls walking towards a table holding their plates of idle and sambar in their hand. As they passed a window, their silhouette reminded me of a scene from my past. I searched the alleys of my memory to identify it. I found it in a few seconds. It was the scene from Lion King wherein Simba, Timon and Pumbaa walked with the moon behind them singing "Hakuna Matata".

I am obsessed with King Buffalo's The Burden of Restlessness. Every morning, I wake up wishing I had slept for a few more hours. Only a spin of the album helps settle my nerves for the day. I spend the rest of the day humming the tunes. The album is definitely one of the best I have heard in a long time. The song structures are great. The musicianship is trance-worthy. The lyrics stay in my head long after I have stopped listening to the song. The brilliant opener 'Burning' has the lines.

Another year lost in the wasteland

Another day drowns in dust

Another one dead in the wasteland

Those lines could describe almost anyone's life, especially those who have crossed the golden age of thirty. The next song, Hebatation, contains another set of inspiring line.

25 and all I find are clever ways to hide

Every night I dream a million different ways for me to die

Every night I close my eyes

I lie awake and try to pacify a listless mind

Nothing's changed at 35

Still every night I dream a million different ways for me to die

She sat on the other side of the table looking at her mobile. As is the case with smart phone users, her index finger moved up and down the screen. Suddenly she looked up and asked "Does this Feb have 28 days?" I did not understand her question and could only respond "What?" She repeated her question "Does this February have 28 days?" I felt confused and stuttered "Doesn't all the Februaries have 28 days?" It was her turn to be confused. She stared at me for a moment before going back to meddling with her phone. 

As I write these lines, a colleague walks in announcing loudly "Basheer says that time is only in Allah's hands". I had a clever response which could not escape the tip of my tongue as another colleague on a call sush-ed us menacingly. Now I have no choice but to write those words here.

Basheer says that time is only in Allah's hands

Maybe true but I don't agree completely

For I believe that time is only in our hands

Especially when one wears a wrist watch

I heard someone say that someone else wanted to learn the violin. I was never interested in learning to play the violin for I prefer peace and would like to maintain a good distance from violins.

She intended to meddle with the fiddle

The thought struck her the day she bought a kettle

And placed it on the burner to check its mettle

When the water was hot enough, bubble rose in its middle

That's when she announced "I shall buy a fiddle

And fiddle with it a little"

So she ran to the shop with a golden apple

The fiddle seller fingered the apple and let out a whistle

He inquired "Where did you find this fine sample" 

She ignored him. Instead, picked a fiddle and asked "Is this brittle?"

"No, no! Its fit as a fiddle".

"Obviously! Is this not a fiddle?"

"Obviously! It is a fiddle. A fiddle that is fit as a fiddle."

She walked out of the shop with the fiddle.

Leaving the shopkeeper inspecting the golden apple.

She let the sun shine of the fiddle

And wondered "Will playing a fiddle be diffle?"

Sleep continues to elude me. I went to bed by 10:15 PM and slept almost immediately. When I woke up I was surrounded by darkness. I tried to go back to sleep but could not. I got up and checked the time. It was 1 AM. I felt frustration shoot through me. I had only slept for two and a half hours. I went back to bed and tried to go to sleep. At 4 AM, I gave up. I got up, put on my headphone and started listening to 'The Burden of Restlessness'. An hour later, I sat in front of the laptop. I have plenty of shit to work on and these lines to write.

I hate the ringing of my mobile phone. It startles me off my train of thoughts and at most times, I don't even know the caller. I find it difficult to converse with people I know over the phone. So, why would I even bother to accept calls from unknown persons? Truecaller's identification of the caller has helped me decide if I should pick a call or not. It announces the name of the caller and most times, the name is announced in a red box with the helpful words 'spam' or 'junk' written underneath. So, I keep my mobile on silent and let Truecaller inform me who the caller is when I switch on the phone, which happens once every 3.5 minutes.

Last evening, I missed a call from a person whose name was within the Truecaller blue box. So I realized it might not be a spam caller. The name seemed to have been picked from the person's Aadhar card. It had a first name and last name too. The first name was a long one and the second was even longer. The first name gave away the person's ethnicity and the second sealed it. I realized that this could be a call from one of those distant relatives who suddenly realizing my existence would call me. I wondered if I should call him back but decided not to. Calls from distant relatives were problematic. I would have probably met them twice a few decades back and yet they would expect me to remember them. I would have found it difficult to recognize them visually; recognizing their voice heard from a mobile phone was impossible. During such call I end up spending the first few minutes of the call trying to decipher the owner of the voice at the other end. Sometimes they drop in a clue but there have been a few instances when I have gone through a whole five minute call without identifying the person. So I decided to not call back.

An hour later, I realized the person had called me back. Now, I had no choice but to call him back. The person answered the call. The next 30 seconds were spent in both of us saying "hello", "can you hear me?" and "yes, I can hear you".  Finally, when both of us settled on the code 'yes, I can hear you' he continued by introducing himself. His name was the same as the one Truecaller displayed. He continued by saying that he is from my hometown. Immediately, I searched the names database in my head for the name. I found fifteen matches. The name was a favorite for Malayelees. I had no choice but to say "Oh! Is it?" Though I had no idea what my response meant, he was satisfied by it and continued. "I saw you at your workplace and thought you look like _______ etta. I checked and found that your last name is etta's name. So, I got your number." I did not know how to respond and so said "Oh! Is it?" As I have aged, I have started looking like my father. This has become a big discomfort for the following reason. I have an image of my father but my actions at most times does not fit into that image. So I find it odd when I see someone who looks like my father behaving like me, especially when I see my video feed  during Google Meet and Zoom calls. This incident has taken this similarity from the disturbing level to the eerie level. People are able to track me just by looking at me. I think I have to visit a plastic surgeon.

P-u-f-f-y is not pronounced puppy!

It must have rained cats and dogs the previous night. The puppies that fell from the heaven occupied every part of the road. When I say occupied, I don't mean they stood still in a place. Puppies are not cows and so they ran continuously across and besides the road. This made driving difficult. I would see a puppy running across the road and estimate its path of motion based on its current position and direction of motion. To avoid running over the puppy, I would gradually change the car's direction away from the puppy's estimated path. At that moment, a voice inside the puppy's head would announce "Hey, turn around. Go back to the starting point". The puppy being an obedient creature, would promptly turn around and run back. As a result, I would realize that the puppy's path would end under the right front wheel of my car. Out of desperation, I would be forced to swerve the car away. Most times, I was lucky not to cause an accident or run over the puppy in the process. 

Such situations made me realize the positive aspects of the cow's placid nature. Like the puppies, cows too occupied every part of the road but unlike the puppies they did not run around. As a matter of fact, they did not even budge any muscle other than the one around their mouth and tail. When a vehicle approached them, they stood on their designated spots and stared at the headlights of the approaching vehicles. Cows loved the light coming out the headlights of the vehicles. In the mornings, they stared at the front of the vehicles and thought "Show me some light. Show me some light man." in a loop. In the nights, they stared at the lights and thought "I love the lights. I love the lights man." in a loop. They stood in this manner till the vehicle stopped a few centimetres from them. They then eagerly waited for the sound of the horn. As soon as they heard the car singing 'beep, beep, beep, beep', they slowly danced away from the spot. Though the slowness of the cow was maddening, I preferred it to the random motion of the puppies. 

Suddenly, my attention was diverted to a realization. If it had rained cats and dogs on the previous night, where were the kittens. I only saw puppies and dogs; cats and kittens were nowhere in sight. I had heard that cats, like vampires, did not like sunlight. Maybe they were lying hiding from the sun in some shady spot. My thoughts on cats and dogs were rudely interrupted by a yelp that seemed to come from below me. My heart skipped a beat and I slammed the brakes. I got out of the car and looked under it to find a small brown and white puppy looking at me wide eyed. It gave out a shrill yelp when it saw me. The sight did not twang a string inside me. I shouted at the puppy "don't you dare give me that look. You are the one who ran across the road irresponsibly. Hey! Don't yelp at me. Come out of there now". The puppy seemed to have understood every word I said. It limped out from under the car and stopped in front of me. It looked up at me with sadness dripping from its eyes. Guilt and sadness clouded every part of my rational brain.

 

I made the biggest mistake of my life - I picked up the puppy. It wagged its tails and licked my palm. At that moment, I should have realized that dogs and their little ones were one of the most manipulative creatures on the planet. But I did not. I heard someone say "Awww!" in the head. I got into the car with the puppy in my hand. It was then that rationalism fought its way through the aw-ness. I realized I can't take the puppy home. I did not possess the puppy-loving material within me. I can never take care of this fellow. I opened the door and was about to drop the puppy on the road, when it looked at me and said "Eeeeeee hooooo ooooooo eeeeeee eeeeeeee ooooooo". As the sounds travelled to my head, they transmogrified into "will you do it? Please don't". I was shocked. Questions crowded inside my head - did it talk or was that only a series of yelps, am I going nuts or is this a special pup, what do i do now? 

I decided to keep the puppy. I turned the car around and drove back home. As soon as I reached home, I rang my boss. As he picked the call, I faked two or three coughs. He asked in a concerned voice "What happened? Are you okay?" I responded "I have severe body pain and high fever". My boss quipped in helpfully "... and cough too". I humoured him with another couple of coughs before agreeing with him. I continued "I will take off today". My boss quickly jumped in "No no! Please take off the week. Take a test and come back next week only." I protested "It's ok boss. I will be okay tomorrow. I will be in office tomorrow." But my boss was vehement "Stay at home for the next week, ten days if required". I let out a sigh and agreed half heartedly.

I cut the call and looked at the puppy with a smile. "So we get a week off little fellow. Let us see what we can do in this week." The puppy wagged its tail and licked my palm. I took the puppy into the bathroom and gave it a wash. It did not appreciate the process of getting clean and protested through yelp and shrill barks. At the end of the bath, I gave it some biscuits and milk. As I watched the puppy gobbling the food, I felt affection flowing through and around me. Soon, I realized I had to name it. "What shall I name you, puppy?" The puppy ignored my words and continued to eat. "Shall I call you Tommy?" The puppy looked up at me when it heard the name 'Tommy'. I remembered reading in a science magazine that the sound corresponding to 'Tommy' had been etched in the dog's DNA. As a result, one can call any dog ' Tommy' for it to respond. But I did not like the name and decided to look out for another one. I picked up the puppy to determine its gender. The puppy did not like being separated from its food and protested loudly. "Oh! You are a girl. So I can't call you Tommy anyway. How about Lucy or Susy? No. I should probably give you an Indian name. Hmmmmm! How about Savitri? Oh no! Not Savitri. If Savitri Aunty gets to know of this, she will create a scene. Damn! I don't know what to call you".

At that moment, a thought struck me. Many years ago, my uncle brought a dog home. I don't remember much about the dog. I can't even remember if it was a boy or a girl. I only remember its name and the sight of it lying dead. The name that my family assigned to that dog gave me an idea. The dog had a plate for food. When the plate was empty, the dog created a racket by playing with the plate. On hearing the noise, the members of my family shouted "Why are you making this loda-loda sound?" Thus, the dog got its name, Loda-loda. Dog and pet lovers find the name insulting but I can't think of a better name for that dog. It was to the point. I decided to find one such name for the puppy on my palm. I started talking to the puppy with the seriousness the topic deserved "Hey! Look here." The puppy turned her attention towards me. I looked into her eyes and said "Today's the 20th of April. This being the day of our meeting I shall name you after this day. You being a dog I will add the letter 'D' at the beginning of your name. It gives me pleasure to name you D-420. There is a hyphen between the D and 420 but as its cumbersome to call you D hyphen four twenty, you will be called D four twenty." I repeated the name D420 a few times while pointing at her. She licked my finger and wagged her tail. I placed her on my lap and in a few minutes, she started sleeping. 

She slept till the evening and woke up as I was making coffee. She seemed to have followed the smell of the coffee to the kitchen. She gave a soft bark as she reached me. She licked my feet and looked up at me. I looked at her and said "D420! Do you want some coffee?" She looked at me confused. I continued "Maybe not! You are a Chennai-ite and you will only want filter coffee. Unfortunately, I drink filtered coffee and not filter coffee. So no coffee for you!" I don't think D420 liked what I said. She gave me a loud bark and ran away. 

That night I wondered where D420 would sleep. I placed a pillow besides my bed and placed D420 on it. I got a towel and covered her. The setup seemed comfortable to me but she did not like it. She got off the pillow, jumped onto the bed and waited for me to join her. I did not have a choice but to let D420 share my bed.

The week has passed since then. D420 has spent the week following me while I spent the time trying to make her life comfortable. At the end of the week, it seemed to me that we had known each other for a long time. I realized that it will be difficult for us to imagine a life without each other. 

But there is a problem!

I got a call an hour back from my boss. I did not remember to cough when I picked the call. He mentioned "Ah! You sound better." I was forced to agree with his observation. He continued "Good, good! We have that customer call coming up on Wednesday. So let us have a discussion on our plans first thing tomorrow morning, ok?" I responded "Sure!" through gritted teeth  He cut the call after saying "See you at 9".

As the reality of my situation sunk in, I called out to D420. She looked up at me expectantly. I informed her in a gentle tone "D420, I have to go to the office from tomorrow. Hope you will be able to take care of yourself and the house alone. I will leave by 8:30 in the morning and will be back by 6:30 in the evening. Is that okay?" She wagged her tail and responded "Woof".

Just another working Saturday

The aroma of upma wafted through the air. I removed my slippers and stepped into the dining hall. The sight of the empty serving table disappointed me. I walked towards the kitchen and asked the person sitting on a table chopping beans "isn't the breakfast ready?" She responded "9:00 AM". I looked at the watch and realized that 9:00 AM was 30 minutes away. I went back to my desk and stared at the image on my desktop. The Microsoft Windows logo was not unattractive but it was not attractive either. But I stared at it for the aroma had numbed my brain and only the upma can get it out of this numbness. At that moment, I saw the boss walking by and to distract my mind off the upma decided to discuss matters of utmost importance with her. At the end of 15 minutes our discussion was disturbed by the words of protest emanating from a senior colleague. My thoughts went back to the upma. But I could not leave the animated conversation immediately and so listened to it for a few minutes. As the heat of the conversation subsided, I slinked away quietly. 

As I entered the dining hall, I saw steam rising from a large vessel that was placed on the serving table. A line of people stood patiently as the person at the table served them dollops of upma. I stood at the end of the queue and waited patiently. Soon I was standing beside the hot vessel with a plate in my hand. The person at the counter served me two large servings of the upma. I looked at it and asked her "What is this? This is not rava upma". She responded "This is samba rava upma". I smiled for I liked the samba rava upma more than the normal rava upma. I sat at a table and started recounting for the millionth time about the incident that changed my feeling towards the upma.

Damn! I am unable to control the urge to not recount the incident for the million and one-th time.

I was in an Indian Airlines flight from Bombay to Bangalore. I had spent the previous night awake and was on the verge of sleep when I heard a voice utter "sir" sharply. I opened my eyes and saw a food tray staring at me. I took the tray, placed it on the table and took the cover off the tray. The whole of my respiratory system was attacked by the delicious smell of upma. I had spent the past three months eating corn flakes and bread for breakfast in a foreign land and had forgotten the existence of this dish. I felt annoyed when I saw the spoon was wrapped safely within a paper napkin and placed even more safely within a ziplock cover. Five minutes later, I found myself staring at a spoonful of upma. I placed the spoon with its content in my mouth.

Heaven... I'm in heaven,

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.

And I seem to find the happiness I seek,

When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.

Heaven... I'm in heaven,

And the cares that hung around me through the week,

Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak,

When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.

(I am sure that no one will think that the last eight lines are written by me. I heard this song in the soundtrack of the movie 'The English Patient' and it has stayed with me since.)

Getting back to the morning. A few minutes later, I found that the plate was bereft of the upma but a blob of the groundnut chutney remained. "Damn" I thought "I need some more upma to finish the chutney". A little later I found that the plate was bereft of the chutney but an average sized lump of upma remained. I went back to the counter and got some chutney. Soon, I was back to the earlier state of upma: 0 and chutney: 1. I was about to get up and go back to the counter to get another helping of upma when I heard my stomach shout in protest "Stop! What the hell! I only have space enough for a mug of tea. No more upma". I took my stomach's protest seriously. I could not afford to mess with my stomach for I had a morning filled with meetings. 

A few minutes later, as I was washing my plate and mug at the sink, a young colleague washing his plate besides me asked "Hello, how are you?" This question has terrified me for a long time. I realize that I am supposed to respond "good" but that would be a blatant lie and there are times when I don't like to lie; definitely not for something as banal as "How are you?" I can't respond "bad" for that would not be right either. So I usually end up saying "Ok". But, over time, I have realized that this was not considered different from "bad". Thus, I have come to the conclusion that the best response for the question "How are you?" is "good". So, I smiled at him and responded "Good. And you?" I did not bother to listen to his response as I already knew what it would be. I shifted my focus back to the mug that I was washing when I heard him ask "Did you have breakfast?" I was stumped. I thought it was obvious that I was washing the plate and mug after having my breakfast. Apparently not! So I responded "Yes. And you?"

About five years ago, I was diagnosed with a mental condition that possessed an unpronounceable name. Due to this condition, I felt waves of intense restlessness pass through my entire body when I heard voices talk one after the other for more than fifteen minutes on a topic that only deserved five minutes of talk time. I have been under medication for the past few years to alleviate this condition and usually exhibit normal human-like behaviour during meetings. Unfortunately, the medication has a severe side effect. I hear John Fogerty sing, non-stop, the lines 

Oh, susie q, oh, susie q

Oh, susie q,

Baby i love you, susie q

I like the way you walk

I like the way you talk

I like the way you walk

I like the way you talk, susie q

Usually, I keep my body under control as the song played in my head but that morning I must have ended up grooving to the song. The chair person of the meeting noticed it and thought that I had something to say.  She said "Yes. Go ahead." I was stumped. This was happening for the second time in the past month. Maybe I should go back to the doctor and ask him to prescribe a medicine which will change the song to "Stayin' Alive" by BeeGees. No! That would be a disaster. I might end up trying to do a John Travolta step during a meeting. 

Anyway, being aware of the meeting's subject, I recounted an incident from my teenage years that involved me getting humiliated in the class regularly for not submitting the Malayalam homework. I tied the situation neatly to something I don't like doing these days and ended my contribution to the meeting. Almost instantly, many hands went up and for the next hour many voices said many words, none of which entered my brain. 

Din thaka din thaka din thaka. Tun toe do twang twang twang ta ta da da. Oh, susie q, oh, susie q. Oh, susie q. Baby i love you, susie q. I like the way you walk...

At the end of the first part of the meeting, I was the second person to get out of the room. I rushed to the dining hall, to have some tea. When I got there, I was disappointed to see that the people in the kitchen had transmogrified the tea into a soup. Not just any soup but a soup with vegetables. Someone mentioned that the soup would have tasted better if it had cornflakes in it. Another protested by saying that the corn flakes would reduce the healthiness of the vegetable soup. But I did not care about either of these ingredients, I only wanted a cup of tea. As I washing the cup, a colleague referring to what I mentioned in the earlier meeting said "There are many such strong dislikes in you". I responded "everyone does. I talk about it openly; others don't". She did not have a response and so I left. 

The second part of the meeting involved discussions on functional matters. I could not risk missing points of discussion in this meeting and so asked John Fogerty to shut up. A few minutes prior to the start of the meeting, a colleague got into the room in a hurry and chose a spot to sit. Seeing this, the two persons sitting beside the spot picked up their chairs and moved it to make space for her. As I observed the scene, the names "Thomson and Thompson" came into my mind. The two of them had no similarity with Thomson or Thompson. As a matter of fact, the two of them had no similarity with each other either; except for their chest long beards. But the synchronicity of their actions reminded me of the two characters from Tintin.

The meeting started calmly. Discussions proceeded gently and at one point I was worried that all this calmness would lull me to sleep. But the fact that I had an announcement to make right at the end of the meeting kept me agile. Seconds passed into minutes and minutes into an hour. Finally, I heard the chairperson call my name. I cleared my throat and made my announcement in an emotionless tone.

Kaboom

We didn't start the fire

It was always burning, since the world's been turning

We didn't start the fire

No, we didn't light it...

Five years

One morning, I received a phone call from my friend. "You have to come to the college" he announced frantically. "10 AM Ok?" When someone puts a request across that dramatically, you have no choice but to respond "Ok". Besides, I had no reason to say no. I was in the middle of a long and relaxed summer vacation. Most days I had nothing to do and that day was one such day. At that time, we had known each other for four years. The last of the four years was spent in a hostel. 

As I reached the college I saw him waiting for me with another friend near the cafeteria. Here, I would like to pause to give a piece of expendable information. We had passed out of this college with our Bachelor's degree about a year back but continued to look at it with needless fondness. "You stay the closest and yet you arrive late!" he said menacingly. I realized that I had tested the guy's patience to the limit but did not feel like apologizing and so I said "I didn't realize you will reach this early". I got "nonsense" as the response. We walked into the cafeteria, picked a cup of tea each and sat on the verandah outside. 

He sipped tea from his cup and looked into the distance. By distance I mean at the building right in front of the cafeteria. The two of us waited. He did not say anything but took another sip from his cup. I grew impatient and asked "Well! What is it?" He looked at us with a smile on his lips and said "You guys are not going to believe this. I am in love". He was right, we did not believe it and exclaimed "What!" in unison. "Yes guys! I am in love". I still could not believe it. The summer vacation was only three weeks old and prior to that we had spend almost all our waking hours of the previous year together. The question popped in my head "when did he fall in love?" He spent the next few minutes in giving the details of his love story. 

By the end of his narration, his stature had risen manifold in my eyes. If I had the right to do so, I would have built a temple around him and dedicated the temple to 'the god of love'. A moment later, I started wondering if I can be bold enough to call him my friend any longer. At that stage of my life, I had not even had a "Hello, how are you?" type of conversation with a girl (who is not related to me by blood that is). The few times I have tried to start a conversation with a person of the opposite sex all I said was "gluck" and that too inaudibly. Needless to say, no girl ever showed any intention to talk me. So how could he who had professed his feelings to a girl be my friend?

The feeling did not last for long and the thought to build a temple for the "God of love" was forgotten. The next three years were probably the happiest years in his life and as it turned out, the most interesting years in our lives too. Watching him go through his schedule for the day itself gave us joy and was a topic of discussion for many hours. At the end of three years, we were out of college with a job in our hands. A day before I joined work, he got married. The first person in our batch to get married. The girl he has fallen in with with became our friend.

So why am I going on a nostalgia trip, this afternoon?

As I was driving to work this morning, a thought struck me "They should have been married for many decades now". I counted the number of years and realized their marriage was only five years longer than my own. I was shocked. I counted the years again and realized that were only married five years ahead of my own marriage. At that time, the five years seemed long but now five years does not seem long at all.

Thoughts

Privately thinking thoughts irrelevant to the current situation

Acting as though the thoughts have relevance to happenings around

In reality, caring more about the thoughts that are happening within

Not caring about other's thoughts that weave through the air

The fabric of thoughts, too thick to be worn comfortably

The fabricated thoughts too dense to enter my head

Thoughts that envelop me, suffocate me, till I find it difficult to breath

Empty thoughts gift wrapped in colourful words

Mean a lot to people who prefer colour over thoughts

But I care neither for words nor for thoughts

I wonder how Ip Man attempts will save his son's school? 

Wordsworth-less

Words words words words words words

I am surrounded by words 

That conveys meaning profound to all

They exhibit their appreciation of the words

By bobbing their enthusiastic heads up and down

By tilting their heads to the left 

And in some cases to the right

Thus easing the passage of the words 

Into their intelligent heads

Their eyes glued to the screen

Watching every movement of the utterer

For they can't stand the thought

Of missing even a syllable

Fortunate enough to emanate from 

The speaker's divine lips

The words, in some cases, 

Find their way to books and notepads

In the belief that the written words will be of useful

In establishing their mettle in the increasingly cynical world

And in the midst of such intelligence

Sits I

Writing another set of words

Attempting to make a point 

That is as hazy as the sight of a myopic

For a few moments, the words let out 

Some of the boredom that I feel inside

I wonder how I ended up here.

In midst of the this intelligent crowd

I started off in a world lying between intelligence and dull

And then something happened

I did something that made me seem intelligent

Soon I found myself amidst intelligence

Today, I realize my folly

I don't belong here 

I have to escape from this sewer of words and intelligence

How how how how how how how how?