One Memorable Train Journey from Pune to Bangalore

About a year after we got married, Anjali moved to Pune. She opted for a PG Diploma course in Emergency Medicine from Symbiosis University. Few of my good college buddies, Dhiru, Diganta and Saikat were in Pune those days. I and Anjali went to Pune, looked for a PG nearby the institute. Well, there were many options in that locality. Anjali liked one of them and paid the booking amount. The duration of the course was one year, and during that period I visited Pune about four to five times. On every occasion I stayed with Dhiru and Diganta, they both shared the same house those days. It was party time whenever I visited Pune. Reunion of old friends, Anjali also joined us in the evening after her classes were over. For the first time we traveled by bus, Volvo. It was pretty comfortable, Rs 1000/- per ticket, took 15 hours to reach Pune. They dropped us somewhere on Pune-Mumbai highway in the middle of the night. From there it was another 25-30 km to my friend’s place. We took an auto. On one occasion I took a train from Bangalore to Pune. Those were the days when Air Deccan entered the market and changed the dimension of aviation industry. It immediately became the pioneer of low-cost flights in India. Even average middle class people started to fly. One day I thought to give it a try and looked in the internet. Bangalore to Pune, Rs 1000/-, exactly same that of bus fare, but it would reach Pune in just one hour and 20 minutes. Also, my friends stayed very near to Pune airport.  

Anjali’s PG course was over. It was time for her to come back to Bangalore. Once again I traveled to Pune by Air Deccan. But the return journey I booked train tickets. Anjali had hell lot of luggage. It was actually much beyond my expectation, almost 100 kg I guess. We boarded our train in the morning. It was stationed on the platform. It came all the way from Mumbai, on its way to take us to Bangalore. We had to take a coolie. I also carried as much I could. The railway platform was crowded. We found our compartment. We somehow placed the luggage. There were many people sitting at our compartment, more than the number of berths. I was already tired, out of frustration I asked, “Itne saare log kaise baith gaye yahan pe?” (How come so many people occupied the seats here?)

All the men were in their middle age, one of them was quite tough looking. Couple of them replied in chorus, “We will get down at the next station.”

Suddenly a lean man grabbed my attention. He was at the window seat opposite to us. He was handcuffed, one hand locked to the window. Both I and Anjali felt weird. I thought the guy must have done something wrong in the train and the Railway police handcuffed him. Soon our conversation started with the co-passengers. They were all policemen. The handcuffed guy was actually a thief, laptop thief. He was from a village in Karnataka. The cops were taking him to Karnataka police to progress with the case, to catch hold of the entire gang. 

"Are you guys from Railway police?" I asked.

"No. No. We are Mumbai police," they replied in chorus. Proudness on their face.

In few minutes the train slowed down, and then stopped. Three of the fellow policemen got down at the very first station from Pune to Bangalore.  They said goodbye to us. All the cops were good friends. They shook hands, wished good luck. They were speaking in Marathi, but we were able to make out everything. Suddenly the train started with a jerk. So from here the real journey starts. I, Anjali, a handcuffed thief, and three policemen.

All the three policemen were very decent. One of them looked quite rough and tough, another a little short with big belly, and the last one looked normal. They seemed to be very friendly. Soon they opened a polythene bag. There were Vada pav inside, nicely packed. Well, Vada pav is a simple vegetarian fast food dish native to the state of Maharashtra in India. It's local Indian burger stuffed with deep fried potato along with coriander, onion, spices and chutney. It is immensely popular fast food dish all throughout Maharashtra. 

They offered us their food. Out of courtesy we were a bit reluctant to accept. But it wasn’t too hard for them to convince us. They also offered a Vada pav to the thief, in fact it was an order. The offender denied. The rough and tough policeman asked him one more time. Again the thief denied. The policeman slapped him hard 2-3 times. They bad guy immediately got hold of the Vada pav and put inside his mouth. Anjali was very shocked.

"Why are you beating him? He might not be hungry," Anjali looked sad.

"Sorry, I shouldn’t have beaten him in front of you. But you have no idea about such people. They are criminals. They have no heart, no emotion. The only think they understand is the stick. We caught him red handed with three stolen laptops in Mumbai. We immediately arrested him. For the first two days he spoke only in Kannada. We were so frustrated. We then applied little dose, and pretty soon few Hindi words uttered from his mouth. We increased the dose, and few more Hindi words came out. In the next few hours as the dose kept increasing he became more and more fluent in Hindi. There is no other way to deal with such people," the policeman explained in details.

Time spent well. Interesting conversation. I asked how they catch the criminals, how they get the leads? They shared few of their stories. In between, our discussion turned to a different direction. Anjali asked their names. One of the policeman, the fat one was very proud of his surname. 

"I’m Rajput. You guys know Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, right? He’s also a Rajput," The man’s proudness showed up.

Then Anjali popped in. She was also very happy. "Yes, we are also Rajput," She said. They asked her name, and the Rajput thing continued for a while. 

"So, are you also a Rajput?" One of them asked me. I was a bit confused. 

"Yeah. Like that only, not very sure," I murmured.  

"What is your name?"

"Jahid. Jahid Akhtar," I replied.

There was a silence for a while. And then things turned back to normal. 

Time passed by. Darkness fell. Stars shinning in the sky. Evening is the best time when we travel in sleeper class. Pleasant breeze. Open sky. The typical train sound effect, so soothing.

"So what are you guys planning to do? How are you going to catch all the gang members?" I asked. 

"Tomorrow morning we need to go to Madivala Police station in Bangalore. We need to submit an application to request extension of his remand for seven more days to gather more information from him," one of the policeman answered.

"But aren’t the Bangalore police going to help you guys? You are only three policemen, and you don’t even know the locality well," I expressed my concern.

The cops looked at each other, smiled. "These interstate investigation cases are kind of complex. They help eventually, but it takes time. There are lot of formalities. For high priority cases the procedure is fast. But for normal cases it’s not that easy. Few years ago our team leader, the policeman pointed his finger towards the fat guy, tried to pull his legs. So, two-three years ago our team leader visited Bangalore for an investigation. He was at the police station for the entire day, and only the next morning his application was accepted. The major problem is that Bangalore police speak only in Kannada or English. Actually, our English is a bit poor," The policeman shared their worry.

Later the cops asked if we could help them in writing the application for them. Anjali was eager to help. They gave the content and she drafted it. They were so happy, felt pretty relaxed. After dinner, the lights were turned off. Everyone went to sleep. The windows were open. I kept looking at the dark sky.

In the morning we reached Bangalore. The policemen thanked us. They gave us their numbers. 

"If you guys come to Mumbai or Pune, and if you are in any kind of trouble, just call us," the policemen expressed their friendship. We were so happy, smiled, "Sure, that’s so nice of you."

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life.

Michael Learns to Rock

Michael Learns to Rock (also known as MLTR) was one of the most popular band during our schooldays. It is a Danish pop/soft rock band. Formed in 1988 and they have sold more than 11 million records over the course of their career. With romantic lyrics and melodious tunes all of their songs were very popular in India. Not only romantic people, even the heartbroken ones also loved MLTR songs. Recently they had a very successful concert in 4 cities in India. Fans in Gurgaon, Guwahati, Dimapur and Kolkata had the opportunity to hear MLTR's melodious tunes as part of their 25th anniversary tour.

I have an interesting memory about one of their songs titled “That's Why You Go Away”. It’s a beautiful song, and the lyric too catchy.

"

Baby won't you tell me why there is sadness in your eyes

I don't wanna say goodbye to you

Love is one big illusion I should try to forget

But there is something left in my head

You're the one who set it up now you're the one to make it stop

I'm the one who's feeling lost right now

Now you want me to forget every little thing you said

But there is something left in my head

I won't forget the way you're kissing

The feeling's so strong were lasting for so long

But I'm not the man your heart is missing

That's why you go away I know

You were never satisfied no matter how I tried

Now you wanna say goodbye to me

Love is one big illusion I should try to forget

But there is something left in my head

I won't forget the way you're kissing

The feeling's… 

"

We were in grade eleven. Our senior batch was about to leave school. It was farewell time. Like everywhere else in our case also it was the immediate junior’s responsibility to organize the farewell party. It was an emotional moment. We knew that now our seniors would move ahead in life. Next year we would be in their place. It was fun time. Lot of music, dance and some laughter mingled with tears. I and my friends were eagerly waiting for a chorus song to be performed by the girls of our grade.  The song was none other than MLTR’s "That's Why You Go Away". We heard the girls practicing for the last one week. The particular song was selected by our English ma'am. We were very confused. 

"The song is just too romantic. How does it fit for a school farewell event? I mean just look at the lyrics – "I won't forget the way you're kissing"

But our English ma’am was just too intelligent. A simple amendment to the lyrics made it a perfect farewell song. She simply manipulated three words and the song just turned into an exclusive dedication from the immediate junior girls to the senior boys. 

"

Baby  Brother won't you tell me why there is sadness in your eyes

I don't wanna say goodbye to you

Love is one big illusion I should try to forget

But there is something left in my head

You're the one who set it up now you're the one to make it stop

I'm the one who's feeling lost right now

Now you want me to forget every little thing you said

But there is something left in my head

I won't forget the way you're kissing blessing

The feeling's so strong were lasting for so long

But I'm not the man sister your heart is missing

That's why you go away I know

You were never satisfied no matter how I tried

Now you wanna say goodbye to me

Love is one big illusion I should try to forget

But there is something left in my head

I won't forget the way you're kissing blessing

The feeling's… 

"

The girls performed really well on stage, and some of them were laughing too.

Now listen to this wonderful song:

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life.

In Search of Light

A couple of years after we got married, Anjali went to Pune to pursue a post-graduation course. She was there for one complete year. I had to stay alone at home. I experienced this for the first time in life. Be it hostel or home, I never stayed all alone. It was boring. Not only boring, but to be honest it was scary as well. I couldn’t sleep properly at night. That particular year I visited Pune quite a few times. Initially I travelled by Volvo bus. It took 15 hours, but the journey was comfortable. Then with “Air Deccan” the game changed entirely. I was able to reach Pune in less than couple of hours, that too at matching Bangalore-Pune Volvo Bus price. 

I stayed alone in Bangalore for almost a month. I visited my buddies on weekends, sometimes during weekdays as well. One day I came in contact with my college hostel buddies, Ram and Mriganka. They both recently moved to Bangalore and were searching for a place of shelter. I offered them our rented house. They agreed. They also shared the rent. I was happy to stay with my old buddies once again. Ram had always been as good as his name. He slept early, woke up very early, cleaned the house, took shower, finished with his Puja, prepared breakfast and tea, tried to wake us up before he left for office. On the other hand I and Mriganka maintained the same old hostel life style. But we both were chefs in the house.

It was 11:15 pm.  Ram was already dead in bed. I and Mriganka were watching TV. Mriganka had a cigarette with him. He went to the Kitchen to look for a matchbox. 

“Oh shit,” We both realized we already used the last piece of the matchstick just couple of hours back to cook dinner. The gas lighter was not in working condition. We scanned the entire kitchen but couldn’t find a matchstick. We then looked at the place where Ram used to do his Puja, but no luck. 

"The nearby shop must be closed by now," said Mriganka. 

"We can find some light in the main road. There’s a wine shop there. If we’re going that far we can bring a quarter as well," I suggested, and Mriganka instantly liked the idea. 

It was 11:30 pm. We didn’t bother to wake up Ram. We locked the main door from outside. We started to walk. None of us had any vehicle that time. We reached our destination. The place was about half a km from our house. The cigarette shop was closed. The wine shop was also half closed. The shutter was down, not completely though. There was still some room for desperate buyers to place their order. We tried our part. We also made special request for a matchbox. Suddenly, a police jeep stopped in front of the shop with a screeching sound, applying brakes. Immediately the shutter was completely down. Few policemen approached us. Without saying anything they took us inside the vehicle. I and Mriganka kept pleading our innocence. But it seemed the policemen didn’t have ears. There was a handcuffed person sitting together with us at the back of the jeep. 

"Where are they taking us?" I asked the buddy.

He made a weird expression. We could make out that the guy was least bothered with our situation. I and Mriganka were terribly tensed. It had already been 15 minutes. We had no idea where the police were taking us to. I thought of calling some of my friends, but didn’t. 

"Are we going to stay in prison?"

"What about going to office tomorrow morning?"

Several disturbing thoughts were swimming around my head.  Suddenly the jeep slowed down. A signboard grabbed my attention. "JP Nagar 2nd phase Police Station". The jeep stopped. I was pretty relaxed. We were actually at a walking distance from our house. 

"But why it took so long? Must be police patrolling," my mind talked to me.

The policemen took us at the reception. They spoke something in Kannada which we couldn’t make out anything. The person at the reception seemed to be gentleman. He offered us seats. It was 12:30 in the night. The merciless policemen who picked us up already left. We had a chat with the gentleman in charge. Few constables also joined. One of them was very young. It seemed he joined the force recently. All were friendly to us. We got to know from them that we had violated some IPC section, but I couldn’t recall which one. I do remember the fine amount though. We were asked to pay Rs 250 each. We tried to argue, asked explanation.

"I’m living in Bangalore for the last three years. It’s such a nice and cool city. This is for the first time I’m having such a bad experience," I actually tried to reduce the fine amount.

"Bangalore has changed sir. It’s for your own safety. You have no idea what all late night crimes happen on the streets of Bangalore. People cut the ears and take away earrings. They hit on the head, take all the belongings," the good policeman explained.

We didn’t have 500 cash with us. They said we can pay the amount the next morning, and asked us to go home.

"But how could we walk home now. It’s so late. And you only mentioned about the ongoing criminal activities. Please escort us to home. We can pay the money now itself."

The policemen smiled, but they dropped us home. We went upstairs, unlocked the main door. Ram was still totally dead, snoring. We looked for the money. All total we had 450. 

"You guys are staying in such a big house and you don’t have even 500 Rs to pay the Karnataka Government," one of the constable commented.

"Sir, the house only looks big from outside, inside it is very small. And then it’s just a rented house," we clarified.

They were about to go. 

"Sir, one small help. If you don’t mind could you please give us a matchstick?"

"Sorry we don’t smoke," was the answer.

"Hopeless policemen," I wondered.

I and Mriganka went inside. We both had a good laugh. We didn’t give up so easily yet. We again searched for one precious matchstick. It was 1:30 am. Finally we went to sleep. Lucky cigarette. It actually survived the entire night.

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life.

Titanic

Those days, watching movies was not less than any festival. I remember the Sunday evening movies aired on Doordarshan. After waiting for the entire week everyone just loved to watch the Sunday evening movie together along with friends and neighbors. On New Year’s Eve, during family and friend get-together, when lot of relatives used to visit home, and on few more similar gatherings people used to rent VCR and movie video cassettes. Even though after the introduction of cable TV things got changed, but the tradition of watching movies together like a festival continued for few more years. 

I remember "Titanic" movie was released during those days, in the late Nineties, the time when I passed out of school and was about to join Engineering college. Titanic was one of the biggest blockbuster till date. It's an epic romance-disaster film directed, written, co-produced, and co-edited by James Cameron. A fictionalized account of the sinking of the RMS Titanic. RMS Titanic was a British passenger liner that sank in the North Atlantic Ocean in the early morning of 15 April 1912, after colliding with an iceberg during her maiden voyage from Southampton to New York City. The movie stars Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet as members of different social classes who fall in love aboard the ship during its ill-fated maiden voyage. The movie won hearts across the globe. Everything is so perfect about the movie, the emotions, romance, cinematography, special effects. It was the most expensive film made at that time. Titanic was nominated for, and won several Academy Awards, including the awards for Best Picture.

Most of my friends already watched Titanic by then, but I wanted to watch it on a bigger screen. Finally, I had the opportunity to experience the magic of James Cameron during a short Guwahati trip. Months later, I don’t exactly remember the occasion but our house was full with guests. Many relatives visited at the same time, cousins uncles, aunties, some elderly relatives as well. The situation was perfect for a movie festival. Some of us went to to rent VCR and movie cassettes. The majority, particularly my mother demanded to watch Titanic. It was a lovely afternoon. I remember an international cricket test match was going on between India vs West Indies. In between the movies, sometimes I paused for a while just to look at the score, and every time my mother and few other relatives shouted at me for the disturbance. 

So, we were watching Titanic. The TV room was completely packed, not enough space was left to accommodate another person. My father was also enjoying the movie. At a particular moment, when Kate requests Leonardo to sketch her picture, I was getting a bit uncomfortable. But I was quite grown-up then, I thought it wouldn’t be nice to step out of the room. I simply played a trick, I wanted to switch to the cricket match without pausing the movie for a while. Unlike other times, even after having a look at the score I didn’t switch back to the movie. The audience were getting impatient, and my mother turned furious.

"You don't let us watch even a single movie in peace," she screamed and then Kate Winslet reappeared on the TV screen, but this time without any clothing. Before my mother could realize she already returned to her seat. The room turned more silent as Kate and Leonardo got more closer. I tried to be cool as if nothing happened, tried to sustain the illusion that I was concentrating on the movie. With my third eye I wanted to have a look at everyone’s expression that moment. And then one elderly uncle suggested, "We can watch cricket for a while." But I remained a statue. Finally, after the painting session was over, everyone had a big sigh of relief.

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life.

Love Sex And Bollywood

I grew up in the Eighties-Nineties, watching Bollywood movies like every other kids.  In those days Love-Sex-Bollywood was quite an amusing combination. Romance has always been an integral part of Bollywood, and sex and romance is something that can’t remain in isolation for long. But there’s a problem. Bollywood firmly believed that a woman, particularly the heroine must be a virgin till she gets married.  The romance between hero-heroine usually happened during songs at beautiful locations in the midst of greenery, hills, surrounding a lake or in a heavenly garden with flowers all around. But just when people expect their lips to meet the camera turns either focusing some beautiful flowers or the top of trees, and sometimes also at beautiful pair of birds doing similar act which our hero-heroine were expected to do.

I’m not a big fan of romantic movies to be very honest, but I’ve watched quite a few of them, and noticed the changes over the last few decades. Rajesh Khanna is considered as the initial king of romance. Rajesh Khanna had given many blockbusters including movies like Aradhana(1969) and Amar Prem(1972). I think romance those days were highly dramatized, far from reality. To cover up the lack of substance the director tried to put more sentiments and emotions in movies. In the seventies, rape scenes were in fact depicted more elaborately. I have no idea why rapes scenes were so common those days. Might be the director simply followed the pattern. Heroine getting raped by goons and hero saves her.  Heroine falls in love with the hero, they both sing and dance. The particular pattern dominated Bollywood for a long time. 

One thing that I found really funny those days was the depiction of sex in the Bollywood movies. Things were just fine as far as romance was concerned, Bollywood elegantly took care by showing flowers and birds.  But there are stories where sex is inevitable. There are stories based on premarital/extramarital sex, and portraying those on screen was a challenge. Hero-heroines those days were ideal, they couldn’t do anything wrong. Particularly our heroines, who were very cultured, always wore traditional cloths, could never indulge in such activities. But there are stories, serious and emotional scripts and presenting the same to the audience was always a challenge. Things turn extremely difficult when Bollywood had to portray love making in the ultimate form, the act that was capable enough to produce babies. Well, illegitimate child was required to give an emotional angle to the story. But then Bollywood wasn’t prepared enough to depict our hero-heroines involving in such illegitimate acts. Now, there came the innovation. There were many tricks that Bollywood adopted to tackle such sensitive situations. I remember one such movie and the concept applied puzzled me for quite sometime.

There’s a classic movie named ‘Aa Gale Lag Jaa’, staring  Shashi Kapoor, Sharmila Tagore.  On a holiday to Simla, Sharmila Tagore meets Shashi Kapoor, an amateur skater. He immediately starts to tease her, flirt with her. It seems Sharmila Tagore is a medical student. Taking advantage of the situation she and her friends make Shashi Kapoor to volunteer for a medical experiment the next day.

Shashi Kapoor lay on ice, shivering with only one piece towel on his body. A senior doctor is giving a live demonstration, and some pretty looking doctors in their uniform are attentively listening to him. 

"Today's experiment is about freezing cold vs human body. If the patient is suffering from freezing cold and no medicine is available, then we can apply body head. Take the patient in your arm and transfer your body heat to the patient. This is the ultimate treatment by which patient can be saved without any medicine."  the doctor explained.

In their next encounter, Shashi Kapoor and Sharmila Tagore sing and dance together in the Shimla snow. Suddenly she falls, rolls down the mountain and falls into a stream. Shashi Kapoor saves her, and takes her to a nearby place of shelter. Sharmila shivering, freezing, senseless, high fever. Without any medicine Shashi Kapoor seems to be quite helpless. He’s desperate to save her life. But how? He remembers the body heat experiment. He starts to undress her, but without looking at her. He feels very guilty doing the act, but he needs to save her. He only plays the role of a doctor. 

Next scene, early morning. Shashi Kapoor says sorry to Sharmila Tagore for whatever happened. She understands the situation, falls in love and they both agree to marry each other.  The amazing part is, soon Sharmila Tagore becomes pregnant. I found the concept very innovative. Without any controversy, without getting  involved in any kind of sexual activity, the idea successfully able to produce an illegitimate child, which is the central point of the story.

During our schooldays Bollywood released two moves that changed the idea of romance as far as Bollywood is concerned. First "Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak" was released (1988), followed by "Maine Pyar Kiya" (1989). Both the movies successfully created a pattern in Bollywood that continued for more than a decade. Hero-heroine fall in love,  but both the families are enemies to each other. Lovers elope, struggles to make a living, but they are very happy. Even though Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak is a good movie as a whole, but somehow the romance is very dramatized. Well, I’m a big fan of realistic movies, be it romance or in general. 

Then came the era of SRK. Movies like "Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge"(1995) and "Kuch Kuch Hota Hai" (1998) again changed the idea of romance. This time it is more of friendship and fun oriented. The art of cinema making had changed over the years along with the changing technology. One good thing is, rape scene in Bollywood movies had drastically reduced in the nineties, and by now it has almost become extinct. The societal mindset has changed now, particularly in the cities. Pre-marital sex is not considered evil these days. Couples openly engage into casual or a live-in relationship. With changing mindset, Bollywood’s depiction of romance has also changed. But right from the seventies till now, one thing remained the same in Bollywood, romantic movies can’t be a blockbuster with good music and dance. Directors still give much importance to songs and dance rather than the content. Depiction of romance still remains unrealistic. 

But in recent times there are some out of the box movies in the romance genre which I really liked. One such movie is “Inkaar” (2013). The movie revolves around the corporate world. Somehow I felt the depiction of love was kind of realistic. Then there’s “The Lunchbox”. My goodness, what an outstanding movie. Nice to see Bollywood maturing enough to make such realistic movie in the genre of romance. 

Well, as far as sex is concerned Bollywood matured from the seventies. Even though it cannot reach far enough like Hollywood in the depiction of love making, particularly for General Category movies, but still Bollywood has changed over the years. Kissing scenes have become pretty common, they openly talk about sex and condoms in the movies. Homosexuality is also being talked openly in Bollywood these days. Recently I’ve watched “Aligarh”, totally out of the box movie. It stars Manoj Bajpai and Rajkummar Rao in the lead roles. The movie is based on true events. Aligarh has broken the stereotype by depicting homosexuality so realistically, without being vulgar. One more movie which had broken the stereotype of depicting sex is ‘Vicky Donor’. Even though it’s a commercial movie but it was bold enough. The movie is about a fertility clinic, a sperm bank and a healthy sperm donor. The good thing about the movie is that it has depicted such a sensitive issue which people usually find embarrassing, in such a elegant and artistic way with good sense of humor. 

Recently the article got published in Uruli 2nd edition, in its Perspective section. Uruli is a biannual multilingual magazine published by Assam Association Bangalore. Actually, it is the uncut version, in the magazine some parts got eliminated by the editor.

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life.

A Memorable Mutton Briyani

Biryani is a mixed rice dish usually prepared with intense and aromatic spices, rice and meat. It is a rather complex dish, not only because Briyani is little complicated to prepare, but also for the fact that many claim their briyani as the original one. Also, there is no specific recipe for it - the dish changes from place to place, people to people. In India, briyani is not just a dish, it’s a tradition, kind of a cultural expression. Historians believe that the dish could have come to India all the way from Persia via Afghanistan. Briyani is also quite popular among the vegetarians, the preparation is more or less the same, just instead of meat they mix vegetables.

After living in Bangalore for more than a decade, I can easily claim it is the land of briyani. Bangalore is a cosmopolitan city, and one can find people from each and every part of India, that too in huge numbers. Briyani has gone deep into the food culture of Bangaloreans. The situation is similar to 'Momo in Guwahati’. There’s just momos’ and monos’ everywhere in Guwahati. There, one can’t run a restaurant without serving momo. Momo is just so deep into the food culture of  the people of Guwahati, particularly youngsters, college-goers. Biryani is to Bangalore what Momo is to Guwahati. One can find almost any kind of briyani in Bangalore. Apart from the usual Chicken, Mutton, Egg and Veg briyani, one can also find varieties of Fish and Prawn briyani as well. They serve briyani in almost every restaurant in Bangalore, be it big, small or roadside restaurants. Briyani in any form is an absolute delight. Every briyani is heavy on flavor, the moment we put a spoonful inside, it fills our mouth with rice aroma.

Along with the tongue people also have emotional attachments towards the briyani of their origin. Some of the most popular briyani as far as Bangalore is concerned are recipes of Lucknow, kolkata, Kerala; but nothing can compete with the Hyderabadi briyani. It is a brand. Hyderabadi briyani also comes in different flavors - Hyderabadi Dum briyani, Boneless briyani, Chicken fried briyani and many more similar stuffs.

Okay, enough of briyani gyan, I think now I should shift gear towards one of our memorable Mutton briyani. The incident happened about seven or eight years ago. During those carefree days, on one weekend I and Anjali went out in the evening. After little bit of shopping we thought of having dinner outside. We were at Koramangala, one of the most happening place in Bangalore. We knew about a very famous briyani restaurant there, but were confused to locate it. I called one of my friends and got to know we were pretty close to the restaurant. But my friend suggested us to avoid the place, as on weekends it’s usually overcrowded.

Despite the warning we visited the restaurant. We found that the place was not just overcrowded, it was chaos. I asked the manager how much time it would take. He replied that it would take about an hour. Looking at the crowd I felt the manager was quite generous in his response. The aroma of briyani was heavy in the air. It seemed Mutton briyani was a specialty over there. We decided better we order a takeaway rather than waiting. Even the takeaway took quite a time. The moment someone handed over our parcel I was more than delighted. The polythene bag was heavy, we had ordered two plates of Mutton briyani.

We took an auto back home. It was 10 in the night. The weekend rush was bad. I was holding the briyani bag, the wait was getting desperate. We reached home. I put on relaxing, homely clothing. Switched on the TV. Anjali brought the plates and spoons from the kitchen. Happiness around, we were all set to relish the tempting Mutton briyani. I cut open a packet, put some on a plate. The pleasant smell of briyani instantly rose to my face. I dipped into the packet with two fingers, searching for Mutton pieces. I found one and took it out. But I was puzzled to find it to be a big piece of potato. I took the whole briyani out. No Mutton pieces, only giant potatoes.

I wondered they’ve wrongly given Kolkata briyani. Well, one unique thing about Kolkata briyani is that they also mix potatoes, big pieces, along with the meat. But in our case there were only potatoes, no meat. My heartbeats started to accelerate. And then I thought, they might have kept all the Mutton pieces in the other packet, together. I immediately opened the other one, only to find potatoes and potatoes, no meat at all. I and Anjali stared each other in discomfort. I thought to search for the restaurant number and call them. But that would have been stupid, I guess. Without much of an option we both ate the briyani with heavy heart. It was delicious, but we missed to bite some flesh, missed to chew on the mutton bones that night.

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life.

Sauna Slimming Belt

It was the year of 2005. That was the time when late night television advertisements like Telebrands and all, started evolving. Such advertisements were emerging as a major marketing platform for the various innovating products. Even though such products are under wide categories, but those related to health care are truly inspiring. Those were the happy days, and our happiness gradually started accumulating in our tummies. I joined gym quite a few times, but every time somehow my association with gym was kind of casual. Well, without commitment relationships don’t last long.

One night I came across Sauna Slimming Belt advertisement on TV. The product seemed to be unique that specialized in reducing the excessive body weight without following any strict exercising and diet routine. The commercial started with "Kya Aap Motapa Se Pareshan Hai?"

A beautiful and slim lady was demonstrating how to use the Sauna belt. It was very easy to use, just had to tie it around our waist,  plug on the attached wire and adjust the heat regulator. Sauna belt could also be applied to other body parts like the abdomen or thighs, and the generated heat sweat away unwanted fat. The pretty lady on the TV promised that the magical belt would show result in the very first use itself. She even demonstrated the same, before using the sauna belt she measured her waist, and after using for 30-40 minutes she measured her waist yet again. Wow! Bingo, sauna belt is truly magical.

Both I and my wife felt that Sauna slim belt was designed just for us, people who are little concerned about getting fat, but find it difficult to workout in gym. My wife was so convinced with the sauna belt that she decided to order one. Even though I was tempted but was in double mind, to order or not to order? Well, I was quite a pessimist kind of person right from childhood. In the meanwhile my wife already ordered the Sauna Slimming Belt on the phone, with cash on delivery. Immediately we received an SMS with the intimation that the invoice was sent to out email id. I was confused, but then felt spending 3500 rupees is fine, after all we both are going to be slim very soon.

The product arrived in the next few days. The first time experience with the sauna belt was simply amazing. It was a great feeling of getting slimmer all while sitting comfortably in a chair in front of the TV. Initially I was little anxious, also scared as the heat was driven by electricity, but I adjusted the heat regulator till the point I could bear. I felt that a portion of my tummy heated tremendously, kind of painful. The heat wasn’t evenly distributed. After using for about half an hour I loosened the belt. There was some sweat, and my tummy turned kind of red. My common sense suggested that it is not going to work. I wondered heating myself up this way is stupid. I was worried that the sauna belt is likely to cause blisters in my skin.

I always had some doubt about the sauna belt, and after using it I was confirmed that Sauna slimming belt is just a scam, a ridiculous gimmick of a product that would burn our skin. I’ve used it only once but my wife tried it for few more times, and ultimately she also realized the same. Later, after a few months when we came across similar advertisements on TV and came to know that they are selling sauna belts in just 800 rupees, we were really upset.

Last week, as I was searching for something, I found our memorable Sauna Slimming Belt in the wardrobe. Whatever, it was a nice feeling, I enjoyed some nostalgia brought on by our sauna belt.

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life. 

 

The Onion Story

Some years back

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. Wife was not at home. I was simply lying on my bed. I looked at my mobile phone, it was already 1 pm; I thought of preparing lunch. I opened the freeze and was delighted to see some frozen chicken. I then looked for other ingredients and spices which I'm aware of for preparing chicken. Ginger, garlic, chilies, potatoes, chicken-masala, garam-masala, jeera powder, well, everything was there. But there was a small problem though, I couldn’t find even a single piece of onion in the kitchen. I thought of buying some from the grocery store downstairs. I looked at my wallet. Oh shit, I had only one piece of note in my wallet, a ten rupees one.

I took downstairs, went to the store.

"Give me some onions, bro." I asked.

"Sorry brother, no onions," The guy smiled and I got little upset.

"Aree, give me at least a couple of pieces," I pleaded.

"Sorry, we don’t have even a single piece of onion in the store"

There was one more small shop nearby. The shopkeeper there was kind of weird, a lean and thin middle aged man. I usually try to avoid him, but then, we only had two shops in the locality. I crossed the playground and went to the shop.

"Do yo have onions?"

"Yes" I was more than delighted to hear that.

"Please give me some, I have 10 rupees with me," I asked.

"No 10 rupees, you will have purchase minimum of 15 Rs," the shopkeeper said strictly.

"Sir, I only have 10 Rs with me. Please give me some."

No luck.

"Okay then, give me of 15 rupees, I will pay you the remaining five in the evening"

Still no luck.

"At least give me a couple of pieces"

Pretty disappointed, I thought of visiting the nearby ATM. I walked for half a km and was outside the ATM, waiting. Those days ATM’s were quite limited, and on top of that we used to stay a little away from the main road. As expected, I couldn’t withdraw money from there. I’m kind of pessimistic by the way. So again I had to walk for another half a km to the next ATM. After withdrawing money I went to the nearby grocery store. I was confused not to get onion there as well. On the way back home I entered a couple of more shops, but nowhere I could find onion. Ultimately I went back to the same shop in our locality.

"Please give me a kg of onion," I asked.

"One kilo onion is of 150 rupees," the shopkeeper said sharply. It took me by surprise. Accordingly to my grocery knowledge it should have been of 30 or 40 rupees. I took half a kilo of onions and returned home.

It was a hell of a chicken I prepared that day. It was extremely delicious and I ate to my full. Later, while flipping through the TV remote I stopped at a News channel, there was some discussion going on about the soaring onion prices. Even though I was kind of relaxed after I realized it was not only me, the entire India was struggling to get their share of onions, but I also felt embarrassed about being so ignorant. I should watch News channels more frequently I thought.

I'm born and brought up in Assam. In our place, street hawkers selling ‘jhalmuri, peas, nuts, chanachur’  mixed with ‘chopped onions/chilies, spices and coriander leaves’ are very common. We grew up relishing such roadside refreshing crackers. I didn’t find  people selling such foodstuff outside Assam though, not in Bangalore at least. But I'm pretty sure it’s available all over Kolkatta. When I visit my homeland, every time I go out in the evening the "jhalmuri and other similar street refreshments keep grabbing my attention. More than the yummy factor it's nostalgia that overwhelms me.  One advantage about eating such spicy and crunchy snacks is that, one gets aware of the soaring onion prices much before the News reaches the media. Actually, in such situations, the jhalmuri/nuts sellers mix nicely chopped Muli(radish) along with the onions. The amount of Muli they mix is directly proportional to the price rice of onion. It is also a common practice that during these limited no onion days, the jhalmuri sellers would keep some finely chopped onions secretly tucked in one corner, for their special and regular customers.




Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life. 

 

Fifteen Minutes Fast

          Every morning it's the same story with us; we have to struggle a lot to make Jia ready for school. It is a tough job, particularly for my wife Anjali and our helper Rinku. Jia’s school bus usually comes by 8 am at the nearby pickup point. Quite often we have to call the bus driver and request him to wait for a couple of minutes.

It was a perfect morning, Jia was ready for school, Rinku went to drop her at the bus stop. The wall clock in the hall was displaying 8:10 am. Well, we use to keep it fifteen minutes fast. So Jia was on time and we felt it wasn’t necessary to call the driver to wait. Rinku took more time than usual to return home. To our surprise Jia was also with her in her school uniform. So Jia missed her bus yet again, but how come? She was on time. Anjali called the school transport authority and complained about their irregularities. I was getting ready for office. I looked at the wall clock in the hall, it was displaying 8:20 am, then I had a look at my mobile, it also displayed the same time. I was surprised, as my phone should have displayed correct time. 

           The story started about a couple of decades ago. I was in my tenth grade. Few months before the board exams my father brought me a wrist watch. My father believed that the watch would be helpful during the exams, to complete my papers on time. It was a simple yet trendy looking Titan timepiece. I started to wear wrist watch for the first time in life. I adjusted the time and kept it fifteen minutes fast. I thought it would help me to do my things timely. My friends always used to say "what's the point, dude? You already know that your watch is fifteen minutes fast, how is it going to help you? If someone change the time without your knowledge then it would work.”  Even I knew that keeping my watch fifteen minutes fast is not going to work, but then somehow it became a habit.

I used my first watch, yes the Titan one, for almost a decade and throughout its entire lifetime my watch had to resist the force by pushing time fifteen minutes ahead. I remember one incident during my hostel days. I was in first year of Engineering. Dinner was served exactly at 8:45 pm in hostel. Mr Hiranya Kumar Das, one of our seniors, who was very tidy guy; also, quite punctual with his dinner timing. He was always among the first guys to have dinner. One evening on his way to the dining hall Hiranya dropped by our room. As usual few guys were gossiping and Hiranya also participated in the conversation.

"Come guys, let’s go for dinner," asked Hiranya after a while.

"It's too early for us; wait for sometime, we will go in half an hour," one of us responded.

Hiranya couldn’t wait that long and went upstairs. But soon he returned to our room, angry, upset with the cooks. He picked up my wrist watch from the table, "shit, it’s 8:50 and still dinner is not ready," he was getting hyper. Actually, he went upstairs after having a look at my watch few minutes back.

My friends laughed in chorus and revealed to Hiranya about my fifteen minutes fast story. Hiranya was little embarrassed and he burst out his embarrassment in his typical hostel friendly manner, with some good enough motherly words.

          In the year of December 2005, my elder brother gifted me and Anjali a pair of wrist watches on the occasion of our marriage. Both were of 25 Hours brand. My Titan piece was still ticking, but I thought it was time for a change. Since then, I’m using my second watch. It’s almost a decade and my 25 Hours timepiece is working perfectly fine. The first battery lasted for three years and thereafter I had to change the battery every year.

My 'fifteen minutes fast' habit got induced to Anjali as well. It wasn’t easy for me, but later, somehow I managed to overpower my age old tradition. I understood it nicely that keeping my watch fifteen minutes fast is not going to help me in any way. But Anjali got pretty much addicted to it and I think it will take a few more years for her to realize this.



          So that particular morning I dropped Jia at her school. I apologized to her teacher that Jia missed her school bus. She accepted my apology with her charming smile. I then drove to my office. Later in the afternoon I was surprised to receive a call from Jia’s school transport coordinator.

"Hello sir, Jia’s bus has already reached her destination. The driver is waiting for the last five minutes but there's no one to pick her up"

I was quite angry. I immediately called our home landline and blasted at our domestic helper, Rinku.

"It’s only 12:15, I usually go down at 12:20, wait there for ten to fifteen minutes. How would I know that the bus is going to come so early today?" clarified Rinku.


I doubted that our wall clock battery might taking its last breaths. After returning home in the evening I looked at the wall clock; it displayed time with a difference of 40-50 minutes. The battery seemed to be miserably exhausted. I went to the nearby shop to have a new one. I changed the battery of the wall clock. I adjusted the time and kept it fifteen minutes fast, as usual.

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life. 

My Association With Yoga

Yoga came into my life quite early. I did my schooling in a private school till my seventh grade and later moved to Kendriya Vidyalaya. My old school was popularly known as "Menon School". It was originally started by a Malayali couple. They lived a major part of their life in Bongaigaon, my hometown in Assam, before they returned to their native place in Kerala. The school was run by Mrs Menon. Everyone called her Head Madam; she was quite well known for her strictness and discipline. Yoga was preached seriously in Menon school, the credit definitely would go to our Praveer sir, the yoga teacher. He used to live a disciplined life, was prompt in helping others, always greeted people with his charming smile. Praveer sir also had his own yoga school and all his students showed him great respect.

I also remember those Sunday morning yoga classes, all thanks to the Mahila Samiti of that time, of which my mother was an active member. The all women organization took the initiative of starting Sunday morning Art and Yoga classes for enhancing extra curricular activities of children. It was quite annoying to wake up early morning even on Sundays. But we didn’t have a choice, particularly few of us whose mothers were the key members of the organization. After the Art school we rushed to our home, riding bicycles to watch the Mahabharata serial on TV, which used to come at 9 am.

When I joined Kendriya Vidyalaya, my association with yoga turned slightly different. Yoga was still a part of school curriculum. That was the time when we were little surprised at the school authorities, as they started encouraging our classmate girls to wear slightly longer skirts rather than knee-length/above knee-length ones. Also, Salwar Kameez was mandatory, part of school uniform for the girls on yoga days, which was weekly once or twice. But many of the girls often violated the not-so-strictly-followed rule. The boys enjoyed some eye candies during the yoga class, particularly while the law breakers performed Chakrasana. 

But soon these things turned embarrassing for us. I remember one incident; few of the senior girls were practicing long jump for the upcoming Annual sports. We were waiting for our school bus. Our friend Santosh was very interested to have a closer look at their practice session. One after another the seniors ran towards us with full speed, strength, and then jumped to leap as far as possible. We enjoyed every jump, particularly for those who were wearing skirts. We clapped on every occasion to cheer them up. Everything seemed to be fine but then all of a sudden a couple of girls approached us.

"Dudes, what are you guys doing here?" one of them asked.

"Nothing, our bus hasn’t come yet. We are simply watching your performance. You girls jump really well," we replied nervously.

"You boys can watch us, no problem with that, but just look at the position you guys are sitting at. You can watch us from a different place; common, you boys are no longer kids, you’re quite grownup now"

I think yoga was compulsory till our Eight or Ninth grade, I don’t remember exactly. In the later phase I often bunked the yoga classes along with few other friends. I couldn’t realize how yoga got disassociated from my life. The recent development is more about political yoga; I mean the kind of promotion, the kind of debates going on. Whatever the reason maybe, it’s nice to see yoga becoming a brand; nice to see yoga getting an international recognition. I think we should take it as an opportunity, it’s high time we start practicing yoga. After all, everyone knows the benefits of it, and our own health comes first before anything.

Wishing you all a very happy International Yoga Day, specially to all yoga teachers and the passionate yoga practitioners. 

Picture courtesy: Google Images


Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life. 

Ek Shaukeen Bangalorean Auto Driver

Yesterday I went to collect my Asus Zenfone 6 from the service center. I purchased it from Amazon some four to five months back. Right from day one I had a feeling that they sent me a defective piece. The battery drained off super fast, generating tremendous heat. The service center was pretty far from my office and the route is also quite confusing. Instead of driving I thought to take an auto. I got my phone without much wait. Except for the touch screen it seemed they replaced everything inside the phone. Well, Amazon indeed sent me a defective piece. Now my phone is working absolutely fine. 

The auto ride back to my office was pretty interesting.

"What's the time?" the auto driver asked.

"3:30 pm" I responded.

"Accha, isiliye mereko bhukh lag raha hai,"  my answer only made him realize he was  starving.

We chatted for a while and then he asked for a help. Actually he recently purchased a LED TV with the option of ten interest free installments. The dealer asked him to submit ten post dated cheques, The guy was very confused and worried to give duly signed post dated cheques without even mentioning the amount. Being a veteran EMI wala, I took the privilege to clear his doubts, and felt contented as well.

"It's a general procedure, no need to worry." I said.

The auto guy was happy but he had one more doubt. As soon as I reached my destination the guy showed me the bill, together with his confusions.

I tried to clear his doubts. In the meantime  I was pretty amused, kind of embarrassed as well. The auto guy had purchased a TV worth Rs 70,000.

"Iiitna megenga TV?" Expressing my shock was simply inevitable.

"Ab, shaukh hai, to kya karein?" smiled the auto guy. He was kind of obsessed with modern day big screen trendy TV's, build with latest technologies. The guy said he had already sold his previous TV for Rs 2000/-, which he had bought for 10,000/- just a couple of years back.

 Picture courtesy: Google Images

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life. 

My First Mobile Phone

It was the year of 2003. I just passed out of Engineering college without a job in hand. Those were the days when mobile phones were still considered a luxury. But for me it was becoming more of a necessity, particularly for the smooth processing of my job hunt. My elder brother transferred me money to get the phone. I had a few choices but I opted for Nokia 3310. Even though I was already familiar with the epic snake game which was inbuilt in all Nokia handsets those days, it was only after I had my own that I gained expertise it the game. The game was more than just time pass, it was an addiction, it was a reason for pride. I had a wonderful four years of relationship with my first mobile. It slipped from my hand many times and almost every time the battery came out. But my phone was strong enough; as soon as I reconnected the battery it came back to live instantly. During the last phase of our relationship its entire keypad turned absolutely blank and colorless, but I was so much used to my darling that I was able to text any message and was able to dial any number, without any slightest pinch of discomfort. Most of my friends already had various colorful trendy handsets by now. Well, I was also tempted for those latest sexy models and waited desperately for my phone stop working. But the wait was getting kind of never ending and ultimately one day I took the painful step and betrayed my cellular.

Over the years I had many short term relationships with various trendy models, but with my first one it was a different matter altogether. A couple of months back I ordered an exotic looking, wide screen with a high resolution camera - Asus Zenfone 6, from Amazon. I felt some negative vibrations out of it from the very first day itself . The battery drained off exponentially and the heat it generated was scary. My friends suggested to ask for a replacement. Out of laziness I delayed and by the time I realized the urgency, I learned that Amazon only give ten days window for such replacements. Without any other choice apart from visiting a service center I simply continued. Pretty soon I got used to recharge my phone three to four times a day, sometimes even more. Couple of days back the situation turned worst, my phone lied dead and no power could bring it back to life. So I went to one of the Asus service center far away from my office, they have only three in Bangalore. They kept my phone and said it would take minimum fifteen working days for the fix. 

I missed my first mobile phone and wanted to have it for the time being. The same evening I went to a shop; I couldn’t get the exact model but I’m pretty sure it is one of the cousin sisters that I have now, an old Nokia model with only the basic features of voice and text.

Grab a copy of my debut book Story of Tublu from Amazon or Flipkart. It is a Contemporary Fiction novel, published by LiFi Publications Pvt Ltd. The book has its share of drama, that entertains; humor, that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that defines the amazing journey that is, life.