Today!

Today the sun bathed me with heated indifference
and the breeze wrapped its cold hands on me
Today I woke up from a fairy tale.

I forgot the world in your embrace
I skipped and skimmed and surfed through life
But today I washed up the shores of reality.

Through the humdrum of your love
A gainful of doubt scratched the glass
Today the world overtook me.

A handful of sand shattered the glass
I stood between an ocean and a beach
Today I met you on the beach.

We both met at the beach
Unprotected by love we huddled together
Today we spent the night amongst shattered glass.

We both breathed the mist of resignation
Of given up hope, of degraded humanity
Today we saw the world, naked in its hypocrisy.

Today is not a dream anymore
Tomorrow the harsh sun will punish us
Today, from now on, I just want to sleep.

Son of a Gun!

Circa 2014. I am still in Bangalore, blissfully married and staying in St Thomas town! Yes, I am jobless, doing a consultancy and trying to write. Hence this attempt at penning a blog, just to keep the writing juices flowing in. 

My pad is on the second floor, and on the first floor lives my landlord's father. A 65 year Tamil Iyer or Iyengar (I forgte what it is) who is a complete antithesis to old age and brahmins! He has been in advertising, garment industry, teaching and many music bands. Uncle has a lot of interesting habits and has had an interesting life as well! His friends are also naturally having interesting habits and have lived their own interesting lives. And so every time I end up visiting them, I naturally hear a treasure trove of stories, about not only bangalore but music, garment industry, farming, hunting...actually its endless. However, the story I heard today beats all the stories so far..its like one of those stories with twists and turns, filled with mystery and unsolved puzzles!

So uncle right now is getting visited by another of his Tamil Brahmin friend and it turns out he is a true "bhoomi putra" of St Thomas town!. Lets call him Raju anna for reference sake. The conversation starts off with how there was nothing in this area, how he ran off when he was in 9th standard (and went to Salem because his brother who lived there was having a gala time studying, watching shivaji ganesan's movies and attending parties- do not ask what kind of parties!) and what adventures he had. In between, Uncle is trying to share his new business plan with me. After some time I manage to ensure they both get their time to share what they have to share, and slowly this story unravels. So he is describing the area in front of my house as an empty ground with a lot of wild vegetation, where his friends and he used to spend most of their nights. And he starts laughing....and then tells this story...

In 1983, a year after he had quit the army, he was having a party with his friends, one of whom was a smart and savvy engineering graduate called Bala. The party, given by Bala himself, was actually to celebrate Bala getting bestowed with unanticipated and uncharacteristic endowments from a previously unheard of ancestral property. So everyone is sitting in Taj hotel (it is still on mosque road) and discussing Bala's good luck (and theirs as well for being his friends). Prior to him coming back with the grand news, he had disappeared for a week and naturally everyone was keen to hear the story as to what had transpired in that one life changing week.  

While they are listening to his story in rapt attention, they hear a commotion outside and see the local goonda harassing Taj's cashier for his weekly hafta. Bala, who is drunk on an empty stomach (and hence the visit to Taj), gets enraged and starts saying that it is unfair. To which Raju anna chides him for not minding his own business. Bala, however, is clearly very drunk because he shows Raju anna something that he should not have carried with him in the first place. Its a .35 calibre american gun with full rounds. Raju anna has been in the army and he instantly recognises it. Through his shock, he manages to quiten down Bala and take him away from Taj to their usual place- the ground in front of my house. There Bala again gives them the same ancestral property story. Piqued, they all examine the fine looking gun, and to test it Raju anna fires it in the air! The few nearby houses and a distant hostel lights come on. Thrilled by the sound (Raju anna just quit army remember?), Raju anna fires a second a time. This time they hear the distant drone of a motorcycle. They realise that its the sound of the Cox Town Police station (now Pulikeshi Nagar) inspector's bike and run for their life.

In all that melee, Raju anna ofcourse ends up running with the gun in his hand and is scared to return to the ground for some days. He also refuses to give the gun back to Bala, and because Raju anna is so senior and well known in the area, Bala just keeps quiet. However, Raju anna feels uneasy about the gun after 2 weeks, so he returns the gun to Bala and orders him to throw the gun away in Ulsoor lake. If only Bala had listened to him! But Bala had other plans. He shows the gun to many people in the area, some even keep it for a day just to feel the experience (!) and eventually a union leader by the name of Gowda buys the gun off.

If only Gowda had kept the gun in the glass showpiece in his house! Gowda, for a few days, brandishes the new gun to everyone, then keeps it in a glass showpiece in his house, but eventually the power of the gun turns out to be too alluring! He uses the gun to rob a Jain jeweller and kidnap him. But their inexperience in such delicate matters leads the jeweller escaping captivity, the police being notified and them being caught! So the police are really happy that they have stopped a crime. But the gun just stupefies them. So the investigation for the gun's origins starts, questions are asked and everyone remembers Bala trying to sell such a gun to them! So Bala is arrested by the police one night at 2 in the morning.

Meanwhile, Raju anna and his gang find Bala missing again and they wonder what other endowments has beckoned him! The story comes out 3 days later, after the police give Bala a completely thorough job and he is forced to spill the beans. 

Bala is having an affair with a caretaker of a house, which is owned by a strange gentleman who visits his abode on and off. This means plenty of time for Bala with the caretaker in a large comfortable house. One day, the gentlemen leaves behind a leather suitcase and Bala steals it. The suitcase has american dollars, gold coins and the gun! He gets the american dollars exchanged in the local State Bank of India branch. The Manager of the branch in turn helps him to sell the gold coins to his brother-in-law who is an officer in National Aeronautic Limited (NAL). The gun, well we know the story. 

The case was closed after the bank manager and the NAL officer apparently paid a lot of money to the police. Apparently, Bala also pitched in and got out. However, Raju anna brings in a new twist to the story at this point. Yes, the story is not over yet!

The police never got a complaint from the gentleman about his missing briefcase or the gun. Which meant that the gun was unlicensed. When the police got to the house that Bala frequented, they found the house locked with both owner and caretaker gone! The police launched a manhunt for them, but they had simply disappeared! Furthermore, the gun also apparently disappeared!

Raju anna believes that the gun was stolen by the local police inspector. He believes so because the the same gun was used to commit another crime after some years, and he deduced then that the inspector was behind its disappearance! However, thats another story for another day! 

 

 Hope you found it as entertaining as when I heard it!

More stories, and maybe continuation of this, later!

Ciao

Seem to be needing this song nowadays!

When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on
Don't let yourself go, 'cause everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it's time to sing along
When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go, (hold on)
When you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on

'Cause everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts. Don't throw your hand. Oh, no. Don't throw your hand
If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone

If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts. You are not alone

REM- Everybody hurts

Part 2: Assam

While studying Geography, we had to parrot the names of different airports in India. Dum Dum airport seemed to sound as the more fancy one and I would picture as to how the airport really was like. Unfortunately, we did not have google at that point of time and therefore I could only imagine the fanciness of the airport against the fanciness of its name. Of course once I grew up, it became "dumb dumb" airport after one of our friends described the airport!

Now christened as "Netaji Subhash Airport", it seems like a bit more bigger than Patna airport. And now I dont know what to mind- the fact they changed its name from Dum Dum or the fact that they insulted the most active revolutionary in India's independence struggle and renamed it after him!

I reached a bit early and after checking in, I strolled around the few shops imposed inside the airport and picked up a big fat book for my general entertainment. My flight got delayed by almost 2 hours and I was happy to have a book in handy. Meanwhile Pinkie's flight had also been postponed, yet she was already in Silchar. My flight was announced amidst a lot of confusion on other delayed flights. I made the short way into the tarmac and saw the ATR 72. I had seen ATRs from a distance in a lot of airports but had never been in one. Small planes are preferred in mountain terrains and I realised with excitement that I would be seeing the landscape of Manipur and Assam quite closely this time. The flight was mostly empty and I had no company in the next seat.

I love kingfisher because they serve you some kind of food in all their flights. I got a cold veg sandwich with coffee and I was happy to keep munching and watch the scenery outside. The plane landed at Imphal (atleast this way I can say I have visited Manipur!) and I realised I had an air force pilot for company this time. His friend was sitting across and they both started flirting with the air hostess! Meanwhile I tried in vain to capture the landscape with my camera. Manipur seemed mostly made up of low hills and vast plateaus with pencilled rivers. While Kolkata was chilly, Manipur seemed to be basking in heat.

It was a 45 minutes flight flight to Silchar from Imphal and I soon occupied myself with the second sandwich I received for the second leg of the journey! I arrived at Silchar and met Pinkie after almost 2 years. Pinkie was clearly restless after all the waiting she had done for me and she pushed me into her father's bolero and we started the ardous road journey to Karimganj! I had developed a slight back pain and now I was scared that my spinal cord would snap off my back any moment! There were parts where roads were trying to be built but the rest was like a big mud road with lots of potholes.

After 3 hours of bone rattling journey, we reached her place in Karimganj. My phone received a sms from Airtel- "Welcome to Bangladesh! Now blah bluh blih rates for international roaming and so on and so forth!" Thats when I realised that Karimganj is right next to Bangladesh!

After freshening up and having lunch, we both dozed off till evening. Since her father was not there, we decided to have a bit of fun. She had beers lying in her fridge. So we had dinner quietly, waited for the cook to go and then made ourself comfortable with our beers. While we were catching up and having wild swigs of the beer, the cook walked right in and froze. We both froze mid-sentence and mid-swig and eyed him for reaction. I cannot say honestly as to who was more scared- him or us! Then he meekly addressed Pinkie- "Didi, dont worry I wont tell anyone!" Pinkie barked back- "Yes, you better not!" He quietly made a U turn and we hoped that was the last of the matter!

The next morning, I am kicked out of the bed by Pinkie at about 6 am. We started off from Karimganj at around 7:30 am. Before we hit Silchar again, Pinkie takes me to that part of Karimganj which is right across Bangladesh border. A small river called Barak divides the two countries, I can see the farms and villages on the other side and I see no difference. Indian side has a pucca road while Bangladesh side has mud road. Boatman with their respective countries' flags are ferrying people across. Many Bangladeshis visit India to work and sell their products. I take a snap and find a commando next to me asking me to stop shooting. I apologise and keep my camera away, to be hounded by another guy who recognises Pinkie but gives me the best "I am suspicious you are a spy" look! So my interrogation starts with questions on my family, education, work place, blah bluh blih! Pinkie is going red while I am losing my patience. It turns out that he is deputy police something and he takes his job a bit too seriously around the wrong people! Eventually we run from there after I give him my office card.

We stop at Silchar for breakfast and head towards Mizoram. The roads in Assam are terrible and inspite of the vehicle being a bolero I was worried about my back.

Assam for most part is similar to West Bengal. The bamboo fencing around the house, ponds here and there and similarity of Assamese language to Bengali makes you wonder what is the difference between them! Pinkie explained the cultural heritage of Assam to me. Assam has been immigrated upon by many races. But the most notable were the Ahoms from Thailand who occupied Upper Assam and ruled for many years. However, she also agreed that the coming of Bengalis had changed the Assamese landscape a bit. (Now the above information has been provided by Pinkie! For any contentions, kindly contact her!)

While deep in our discussions, we realised that there were mountains looming ahead on the road. As we started climbing the mountains, the driver informed us that Mizoram had started! And just like everytime, the plains suddenly gave away to hilly ribbons, startling us with the observation that Assam looked so flat and Mizoram was so hilly!

Part 1: The escape to a holiday!

How does one plan a holiday? With me more often than not, it is a pure random process. You have holiday conversation with hazaar friends, discuss hazaar places and budgets, and then one day you just fix it with the last person you ever thought would actually go beyond the planning stage!

So it happened that after exploring potential places like Lakshwadeep, Himalayas and so on, Pinkie actually invited me to travel with her to Mizoram and Tripura. I had been wanting to take a break and with an opportunity to do so in Dec-end and Jan-beginning, I decided that this was a good idea.

We agreed that we wont really plan. We will go wherever we feel like going, stay wherever we felt nice and just make sure we reach Agartala at the end of the holiday. Pinkie offered to take the responsibility to get information on places and hotels, and to my lot felt the job of booking my own tickets to reach Silchar, Assam.

I suck at net banking and credit cards. Life for most of us has become a series of passwords- each password unlocking life services to us..from banking, to laptops to mails to etc...And my memory struggles to keep up with the live stream of passwords that keep getting formed with every new account, atm card, password protected document and email account! So here again I struggled with forgotten passwords and failed....loathe to call the customer care and get a new password sent to my adress..I simply got it done through my net and password connected friend a.k.a Pinkie!

So the travelling day dawns and my mom is more worried about my packing than me! She is scurrying in my room, watching me pack with a restless zeal and commenting on every aspect of packing- ofcourse negatively! Even after I am done with packing, she keeps reminding of the smallest of things I should be carrying and is convinced that I will still forget and leave something of importance behind! To add to the stress, I realised that my train was not being listed in the Indian Railways website nor in the phone enquiry when I tried to find out if it is on time! Calling up the station was useless as no one was picking up. I decided to go ahead to the station and find out for myself! So to cut the long story short, I reached the station and found out that my train did exist and that indeed for the first time in my life, I had not forgotten anything while packing!

The train was to Kolkata, from where I had to take a flight to Silchar to meet Pinkie. I entered a train full of chattering bengalis, which made sure that I could not watch any movies nor read a book. As soon as thet train reached Bengal, one co-traveller loudly exclaimed- "Oh so good to see bengali script and to be rid of those jalebi scripts (read kannada, telugu and oriya)!"

My friend Madhu had come to pick me up in Kolkata and I entered the city with an excitement that I generally feel when I am in old cities. I love the feel of the history that perpetually hangs between old buildings and intricate by lanes. But my travel plans kind of destroyed my new year plans and city roaming plans!

I reached Kolkota on 31st and my friend with the worry that I would not be able to catch my early morning flight, cancelled her new year plans to stay at home! So some interesting party at some Bowring Club passed us by while we tried and celebrated the same with the old residents of the building! And there I became the curious case of the girl with a backpack and travelling to north east! The watchman who helped with my bags was flabbergasted and kept telling the residents that the backpack was taller than me and I was insisting that I would carry it myself! So the dinner turned out to be a question and answer session about what I did, where was I going and so on. So Madhu and I had my dinner as soon as possible and scooted from there! And the new year arrived and I left for airport in the wee hours of morning- my holiday had in reality started now.

Ramblings of a vacant brain!

Yes I am going to write whatever comes to my head. It will be a type of catharsis and whoever happens to visit my blog, shall be a victim of it!

I have been thinking about myself a lot lately. And I have had a lot of eye openers about myself! Firstly, I think I was and still am a drifter! Just drift around in life, jump on whatever boat comes in the river, never having any adherence or loyalty to any creed, caste, religion or occupation.. just go along with life. And yes, making sure am having fun all the way!!! I used to view life seriously once upon a time. I remember, as a teenager, I always used to feel as if time was passing me by, and after some time was convinced that I wouldnt be living for long!

Guess If I die today or morrow, I still havent lived long.... but atleast its more than the age I was then. So I used to read and read a lot, argue with my dad and my hapless friends in rural Vidharbha. My friends were those innocent rural types. Study your text books, help in the house, be a good girl! But I was always the adventurer! Imagine, I used to force them to bunk school! So the day Pokhran blasts happened, my friend Bhavana called up for some homework. And i started on a monologue about India pakistan relations, US hypocracy and how unfair the world was. In my mind I pictured saying all this in front of distinguished world leaders, including Clinton, and all nodding their heads in unison in support of the practical arguments I was throwing on them. I was so naive then! People know the what is right/wrong, truth/false; which again changes from the way you look at it; but people always go for what suits them the most. But I believed that nobody was telling Clinton the truth about the nuclear tests at that time and hence he was not happy about it!

Anyways, poor Bhavana! At first all I heard was grunts and later there was only silence. I stopped my monologue with some forceful dialogue which I cant remember now and after full one minute Bhavana meekly said, its ok, I will ask Ajay, and hung up! I put the phone down, my mind full of acrimonious feeling towards the ignorant friends I had! Man I was so boring :D

I think after many such experiences, I started to shut up. Same thing in Mumbai. It was all so impersonal there. You go to college, there are 100 students in your class and you dont know the names of half of your classmates. I suffered in sports too. I was the champion in school. Here I was forced to play volleyball, where I was not such a pro (I was better in basketball you see. But one look at my height and the coach wasnt interested!) So there were four of us standing in the field like puppets, while the best 2 players of the team took most of the ball and played most of the time! After few such matches, where all I did was watch the ball go to and fro, without it ever touching my hand once, I defied my coach by taking the ball myself and not allowing the captain to play my chance. The captain hissed in my ears to stop it. But I went on, unmindful of the chaos I was creating! The coach hastily asked for a timeout and told me very frankly, you think you are very smart? You are not listening to me. We have to win this match and these two girls are the best we have got. The gameplan is to get them to play most of the balls. So leave it to them.. u just make sure they get the ball. So move away! I nodded my head but went on as before! That was the last volleyball match of my life!

But afterwards, I took out my anger against the unfair system incorporated by the coach in a speech which I rehearsed again and again in my head, and which just stayed in my head. I told him he wasnt doing it right. The important thing was not to win the match, but build a team which can win matches. Give opportunity for each persons talent to get honed. But I was always unlucky to get the worst games teacher in all the schools and colleges I studied in, from Nagpur to WCC in Chennai.

WCC made me more quiet! As far as I can remember, I always felt like a fish out of water in a lot of places. In the beginning, I couldnt understand the jokes that were being cracked around me by the seniors! I was so serious with them that my sense of humour used to die when they were around! And I used to get bored too, with the converstaions that happened. All I used to do was sit with my roomie's guitar and keep jabbing at some string. I could do it for hours, more so because my roomie never used to come back to the room! Now when I think, I feel i was demented because of boredome and lack of activity in my brain. And because I was too uptight and needed a little loosening up. But it was in WCC that I lost my childhood capacity of talking and getting people to talk to me. I used to be quite a pro in getting people to talk to me as a kid. Ask them about themselves, where they have come from, their families, kula, jataka, gotram and blah blah. And after all that, ask them if they have any toffees for me, much to my mothers embarassment. If they didnt have any toffees on them, I would pout and ask with hurt in my voice- dont you know there are kids in this house? So the guest would go pink, red and crimson, apologise profusely, go out at that moment, laying aside any protests on the part of my parents and come back with sweets or toffees! Yes, I was a shameless brat!!

But I had a real opportunity to learn guitar in WCC and I missed it. I still think am a real loser to miss out on that opportunity. But I did participate in Indian Music Club as a Bongo player and did some singing too! And yes I played lots of basketball there! And because I played sports, I could take two baths in the day- a customary one that all have everyday and the other after practice! And Chennai being Chennai, that was quite a privilige those days (with the sultry weather and water shortage).

Guess thats it for today. More ramblings for later!

Why does it always rain on me??

I cant sleep tonight
Everybody saying everythings alright
Still I cant close my eyes
Im seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights
Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong
Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I cant avoid the lightning
I cant stand myself
Im being held up by invisible men
Still life on a shelf when
I got my mind on something else
Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong
Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I cant avoid the lightning
Oh, where did the blue skies go?
And why is it raining so?
Its so cold
I cant sleep tonight
Everybody saying everythings alright
Still I cant close my eyes
Im seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights
Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong
Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I cant avoid the lightning
Oh, where did the blue skies go?
And why is it raining so?
Its so cold
Why does it always rain on me?
Why does it always rain...

Track written by fran healy