In deep and ends

Independence, independence independence day
Its a holiday, holiday, just another holiday
Leaders, leaders, leaders many powerful people
Struggled, struggled, struggled against usurpers
Respect, respect, respect them in heart
No more, no more, no more sustained
Fallible, fallible, fallible they seem
Gullible, gullible, gullible we seem
Tyrant, tyrant, tyrants in many forms
Rulers, rulers, rulers in any form

Independence day

As the time of celebration nears
A tired nation looks back, looks around
The lighted path is no longer seen
The glorious sun hides from sight
Leaders innumerable have come and gone
But some are still around
Visions limited to tips of their nose
Have to carry her on to lighted places
Is there anyone or any many who can do it?
The path is dark and we need a light
But eyes don't shine enough
Are the days of thirst back?
Do we need another great soul?
Are great souls made these days?
Question mark above our heads
A nation looks ahead in worry
And looks back with pride
That is a worry.

A trip to black out

Finally I gave into the pressure and decided to visit Dev and Goda. Indianapolis was the destination that weekend.  I called my travel agent to book tickets (this being the pre-e-prefixed-to-every-damned-word-in-the-dictionary age I had no other choice).  Some one called Nancy picked up the call and asked me how she can help me.  I asked for a return ticket to Indianapolis.
"To where?" she asked.
"Indianapolis" I said.
"I don't think I understand." came the response.
I could not believe that the travel agent did not know where Indianapolis was and so attempted a phonetic split "In-di-ana-police".
"Is it in India?" came the response.
"No, it is not in India; it is in the US" retorted my voice with a tinge of frustration.
The other side remained cool though.  "Can you spell it?"
"I N D I A N A P O L I S"
Recognition finally struck in. "Oh you mean Indianaaaeeeeplis" exclaimed Nancy.
"Yes, Indianaaaeeeeplis" repeated I with a mixed feeling of frustration and relief.

I got out of office on Friday evening and headed directly to the airport.  Dev would be there at the airport to pick me up.  Goda as ever had to work late that night.  The taxi driver, like most taxi drivers across the world, was of talkative nature and I ended up conversing on some very interesting topics.
1. Weather: "Its really hot these days", "Yes"
2. Traffic: "The traffic sucks at around this time", "Yes"
3. Sports: "Did you watch the match last night", "No"
4. Nationality: "Are you from Pakistan?", "No, India"
5. Food: "I love Indian food". "Oh is it?"
6. Bollywood: "I have watched a Bollywood movie once", "Did you like it?", "It was interesting; colorful".
...
1156 Politics: "So what do you think about our President?", "Well, mmmm, ahhhhh there is the airport."

I got out of the taxi and ran for my life.  I heard the taxi driver scream out "Sir" from behind.  After a moments hesitation I turned around to see him point at something in the back seat.  "Your bag" he said.  I picked up the bag with a "Thank you very much".  Fate was forcing me to forget the feelings I had for the guy.  My head put in a "Good guy" in its scratchpad and erased it almost immediately.

The flight to Indianaaaeeeeplis was uneventful except for a bad pocket of turbulence during which the aircraft  dropped a few kilometres and my kidney, liver and stomach got a little closer to each other - now they are in the same neighbourhood.  Oh yes, there was also that Pretzel that nearly broke a tooth.  And yes, I forget that OhJ (apparently an acronym for Orange Juice) that tasted like acid.  Other than that the trip was uneventful.  Of course, there was that passenger who stared at me and muttered a curse under his breath when my bag hit his head, quite accidentally, as I was taking it out of the overhead compartment.  Nothing untoward beyond that.  I  don't think I should mention about that fall I had as I was getting out of the aircraft.

It was not an emotional reunion with Dev but I think there were a few emotions in that reunion. It got expressed in a hand clasp and  a few "Enna da, eppidrairrukke?" type of queries.  Of course, he noticed the limp and asked what happened.  Of course, he was not happy with a nothing much type of response and persisted.  Of course I was forced to explain the fall.  And a final of course here - Of course, he laughed all the way to his car.

It was now my turn to be the proponent of  that taxi driver type of conversation.
"How far is your place?"
"Oh my place is about 10 miles from here.  Goda's place is closer to the airport and I am taking you there."
"You guys don't stay together"
"Hmmmm, no.  I moved out couple of months back"
"Why?"
"Well, nothing particular."
"Any problem between you guys?"
"No no, nothing da.  Don't be silly."
"Then?"
"Well, I moved in with my girl friend."
"GIRL FRIEND?"
"Yea."

I had never realized prior to that moment that Dev could actually blush and that the blush could be so noticeable.  Now there was no stopping my curiosity.

"You have a girl friend. Kalakkere"
"Oh hmmmm aaaaa"
"Indianaaaa?"
"No"
"Americana?"
"Illa da."
"Appuram."
"Chinese."
"Chinese aaaa?  Does she know English?"
"Of course she does.  What the hell da."
"Ok ok.  How long do you know her?"
"A few months now."
"You did not tell me!"
"Well, I thought hmmmm you know"
"Nor did Goda."
"Yeah hmmmmm well"
"When can I meet her?"
"Why do you want to meet her?"
"What! You are not going to introduce me to her?"
"No, I will.  Let us see."
"What is her name?"
"Stephanie"
"What is her original Chinese name?"
"Stu Pe Nee"
"Stepneyaaa?"
"Dai."
"Ok ok."

I asked a lot of other questions but the response from Dev was near monosyllabic.  Many of them started and ended with a menacing "Dai".  That night, I quizzed Goda a bit on Stephanie but did not get much information.  The next day was spent in seeing many uninteresting places.  I have very little remembrance of these places.  The three of us had a great time eating, drinking and talking about old times.  Through the day, Dev's phone kept ringing; he attended a few of the calls but ignored most of them in the afternoon.  When evening came, he informed us that he had to leave and cannot stay back for dinner.  I was offended and expressed it with a variety of abuses.  Dev displayed incredible patience and explained that he has to get back home for dinner with Stephanie.  I wanted to meet Stephanie and wanted accompany him.  Dev was quiet but Goda asked me to shut up.  I ignored Goda's rudeness and insisted on going with Dev.  Goda slapped his hand against his head and Dev descended into a ghostly look.  Finally Dev acceded and accepted to take us to his place.  Our drive to his home was mostly done in silence.  Dev tried to reach Stephanie on mobile but was not able to get through.

On reaching our destination, Dev said "Stephanie is not feeling very well today and is not in the best of her moods.  So guys please watch out."
Goda responded "Its ok da.  We will not come up.  You go."
"Come on Goda.  This is not polite" was my pig headed response.

Goda shrugged his shoulders and moved on.  Goda and Dev climbed up the stairs stealthily.  Dev took out his keys and carefully inserted a key into the lock.  He waited a moment, uttered a prayer, opened the door and called out "I am here, honey".  The response came in the form a "You #@$*&r".  Dev shouted a "watch out" and ducked.  I heard Goda running towards the stairs.  A pink object flew out of the door.  When it was a metre from my face I saw Britney smiling at me from the object.  Dev's "watch out" echoed in my head but I continued staring at Britney.  I then felt a pain tearing up from my nose to the insides of my head.  The world first turned pink, then red and finally black. 

Bleak and bliss

He crept through the night.  The jungle was dark but he being what he was did not bother.  He slid through the trees and grass quite easily.  The rocks and thorns on the ground did not bother him.

He was searching for something.  He did not know what it was but was sure he would know once he got it.  He had been searching for it from forever.  He could remember a time when something painful enveloped him.  The pain stayed with him since then but he was not sure how long back that was.  At the time the pain came in, he realized he had to find it.  At that point, he knew what it was but as time went by his memory faded.  How long did his memory last?  He did not remember.  He understood light and dark but did not understand seconds or minutes or hours or days or months or years or decades or centuries or millennium. There was just the search for it.  He saw a lot of things; some moved and some did not.  The ones that moved seemed to increase his pain but others did not increase his pain (they did not reduce it either).  He was not sure if the pain ever reduced.  He could only feel the increase in pain.  In fact, the only feelings he had were the pain and the need to find it.

Suddenly, he felt his pain decrease.  A new feeling started creeping in.  He moved forward but the pain increased.  He came back to the original spot.  He went to his right and felt his pain reduce.  So he continued to move forward.  At some point, his pain increased.  He traced his way back and went left with no effect.  He came back again, took the right and felt his pain reduce.  In this manner, he continued till he realized that he had found it.  He moved slowly towards it.  The pain had almost disappeared and a new feeling that he did not understand took over.  He continued moving till he had no feelings at all.

With no feeling left, what more can be said.

Meanness

I would have laughed at his falling
If not for the sound of his nose cracking
That thud of his crashing screamed into my ears
His face kissing floor, his leg in air

His thought of himself higher than he fared
Ground below too low to be cared
Stones and potholes of no bother
Snakes and thorns hurt some other

As I watched him strut around with pride
Thoughts unpleasant arose in my head
When out of nowhere his world rocked
And I heard the song "Going down" in my head

His nose traveled at an increasing pace
Maximum speed attained when floor touched face
Blood spilled out, coloring the floor red
Why do I feel I won in the end

Oh no! This is the road to hell ...

The roads in Uttarakand are straight out of hell.  The winter had just come to an end and the landslides had  almost killed the roads.  The lives of  people using the road were hanging in some balance that swayed between death and life.  But our driver was oblivious to this risk and had a whistle on his lips as his hands held the wheel casually.  The tyres were flying by the edge and in some places the road was not underneath one of the back tyres.  There were a number of messages exchanged and transactions made during the whole journey and not all of them seemed legal.  Cans filled with Diesel got in at one place and the contents of the can got into the vehicle at other places.

Some where during the journey, a board on the side of the road screamed

Road is hilly

Don't drive silly

But for a person born and brought up in that area, hills seemed silly.  Our driver drove happily, oblivious of the traffic, the fallen rocks, the sheer drop running all along the road and all those overtaken drivers' abuses.  He had total disdain for all those "fools from other states" anyway.  Any non-UK or UA registered vehicle was honked right out of the road.  Our driver honked and honked at an Innova with Delhi registration that had Congress emblems painted all across but got back no reaction.  So he suddenly swerved the vehicle to the right, overtook the Innova and shoved our vehicle right in front of the Innova.  The Congress-wala did not seem to be used to this kind of treatment.  He ranted out phrases with the C-word and started chasing our vehicle.  The silent and beautiful Bhagirathi valley turned into a dusty and noisy zone.  The Dilli-congresswala was no match for our local daredevil though.  Our man did not let the Congress guy overtake and continued overtaking vehicles in the most brazen manner.  Soon the chaser gave up and some quietness sneaked into the valley again.

Just before the final leg of the journey, our driver suddenly stopped the car and got out.  It was dark by now and our destination was only a few KMs away.  A little later some one got in and we were all intoxicated with the smell of alcohol.  A much older man sat on the driver's seat.  Our good old but young driver was at the back of the vehicle.  The old man started the vehicle, strained his neck, peered into the darkness and got the vehicle moving.  The roads were empty but the driver kept honking continuously.  As in the movie "Sixth Sense" maybe he "saw dead people".   Soon the old and new driver started a loud conversation that ran diagonally across the vehicle.  As it was in Garhwali, we only could understand a few words here and there but it seemed to be about some uncles, aunts and their neighbours.  The old man on the wheel clearly had a lot of difficulty in keeping up with the conversation and driving but he plodded on bravely.  Of course, most of us did not share the same amount of braveness and were all praying to all the Gods we were aware of.  The Gods obviously heard us quite clearly after all we were so close to them at that height.  A few meters from the destination the vehicle stopped and the drunk old driver got off.

The younger fellow got back in and we continued our journey.  The old man was his uncle, a bus driver returning home.  "Being a bus driver he has difficulty in driving these smaller vehicles.  It must have been tough for him" said the driver.  "Then why did you let him drive the vehicle?" I asked with a shiver.  "Just like that" came the response with a big smile.

When Gods wake up

I woke up that morning with the realization that I had known about the village and what happened to it for a long time now.  It was in one of those remote folds of my brain and that night it decided to flow to a visible place.  The village was situated by a mountain which was ominously named the Gurram.  The name was put in with a reason; the mountain rumbled all the time.  The villagers had always felt the rumble but were never scared of it.  They thought that mountain god, Asila slept underneath and the rumble were his snores.  For the villagers, Asila was the God of creation.  He created the world and then dug a hole threw some earth over him and slept.  He kept himself warm and the warmth saved the villagers from the bitter winter that lasted almost round the year.  The warmth, rumble and the mountain made the village a beautiful place and over the years the village grew large enough to be called a town.

One fine day in the year 4389 as per the village priest's calendar, the ground started shaking.  It shook just enough to upset the people but the houses were not damaged.  The rumble grew louder and the shakes grew stronger as the days passed.  The villagers assembled in the priest's hall and expressed their worry to the priest.  "Asila is waking up and he is not aware of our presence.  Someone needs to inform him." said the priest.  The villagers looked at each other in bewilderment.  "But only you can talk to Asila, oh holy one!" blurted a voice.  Everyone else nodded their heads in agreement.  A disturbed expression crept into the priest's face.  With thunder in his voice he said "I am Goda who was made with Asila.  Asila the great and I do not deal with these mortal thoughts.  We do not talk these things.  It is for people who live and die.  Asila and I don't die and cannot talk about these things.  One of you has to go to the top of the mountain and let Asila  know of our presence.  You decide who will do it".  The bewilderment increased as they did not know how to converse with God or for the matter how to even meet the God.

"But how can we meet Asila?  How can we make him understand?" asked the crowd.  "One of should go around the mountain and climb up to the top.  When you reach there Asila will show you the way." replied the priest.  "In the meanwhile, I have to do some penance to try and  placate the God.  During this time, I will not be visible to you.  But don't worry I am taking care of it all." continued the priest.  The villagers had many things to worry about now - the priest will not be there, one of them has to meet up with Asila and they really did not know how to go about doing this.  The big question was, of course, who should meet Asila.  The obvious choice was the village head man's illegitimate son.  He was considered a nice guy - so nice that a lot of people thought he was an idiot.  The village head man and his honchos were not happy with his illegitimacy being known to all anyway.  So he ended up being the unanimous choice.  The person in question, Konio, had no choice but to nod his head in agreement with a sheepish smile.

That night Konio was sent out of the village through the eastern gate.  At the same time, the village priest slipped out of the western gate.  The next morning, Konio started climbing the hill from the eastern side.  A few minutes into the climb, he heard a loud explosion and the earth shook under his feet like a leaf.  Stones started rolling down the hill.  Konio ran down the mountain to save himself from the falling rocks.  He ran back to his village.  When he went round the mountain  he found that the complete western side of the mountain had caved in, the village had disappeared and river of fire was flowing through the place where the village had existed.  Konio sat down and cried - He had failed, Asila had risen and his village was destroyed.