The rains had arrived.

I shut the rattling bay window, wiping off the wet semi octagonal cabinet formed within it.The rain had ruined all my plans to go out and meet a friend.Now I was stuck here with no power,a dead laptop & a mobile with no balance..all combined lead to one common, very big concern..no facebook.As the drizzle hit the window pane, I sat on the bench cum cupboard cum wardrobe cum dumpster, holding a novel (which I had been intending to complete..ah..well, start for a week) staring at the spattered droplets slowly streaming down as if   the glass was melting away to oblivion. I don’t know if my grandma would approve of me sitting so close to the action.I remember her strictly ordering us chingu-pingus ,who had arrived during vacations, to move into a room in the interiors & close all the windows & sit in the center of the room.She used to sit near the door & recite to us,in her slow grainy voice, story of how lightning had stuck at the veranda of a neighbor (in village a guy staying 5 km away is neighbor) & he had lost his eye sight  sitting by the window.We know it is crazy now but then…then it scared the shit out of us.As I started to read the prelude to the novel I could hear few screams coming from outside.It was from the neighboring children playfully jumping around &  down the stream of muddy water flowing down the road.Totally oblivious of being drenched with their wet shirt sticking on to them in patches and puffs, ruffled short hair standing up in eagerness & strands lying low like a con ,dirty chappals few tangled,few dangled to the ankle &  mud spattered shorts..they were lost in their own joyous town laughing when someones shorts slipped down,giggled when one rolled & tumbled, hooting out loud when the thunder rumbled,some sang as they spattered puddles with their kangaroo hops,sprinkled their face  with the droplets shaken off the tree tops, some running by as if to outrun clouds & some watched in awe floating paper trouts.

Just then the mobile phone rang, it was my colleague who had just undergone his appraisal.After the casual ex change of courtesies he inadvertently ended up cribbing about work,going on & on in detail for me to understand that he was undermined, undervalued & under appreciated.There were no under statements either on his bad situation or his boss’s biased disposition,there was no water going under the bridge.As I listened to the banter my eyes drifted back to the children.Though a grown up spoke,the hooted noise sounded truer, their haphazard moves where saner than our slick  maneuvers.Their battered looks & unkempt attire brought more reverence than any suit could inspire.At that moment it felt like through all disgust,resentment,discontent,heartbreak in our daily proceedings, where is the life that we were actually meant to be leading.

“Should I accept this or not?” said one of them.

“Hmm I don’t know. Look at the profile”

I knew they were planning to shift jobs; probably one of them had made some headway. I was curious.

“I am not sure…need to consider future too u see”

“Ya, but you will always have options” said the other as I was drawn closer.

“Ok I will accept” said he as I was finally able to see the monitor.

His single click had brought about the change, a change of gamut that created ripples heard across all his friends and family.

He had a new friend on Facebook.

I have been active in Facebook for sometime now. It’s weird to call oneself ‘active’ cause you indulge in it basically when you are too lazy to work or absolutely jobless. Anyway, I would like to confess though initially hesitant, that this craze has caught up to me. Looking back at my social networking history, I would like to believe that I have grown with time. Orkut, as many guys would agree, was the ice breaker to the. Many of us found the comfort in its undisclosed scraps, unnoticed profiles and unexplored friends. Facebook was a shocker. Everything out there was open to all & almost on your face. From migraine to marriage, jobs to jalebis, tics to politics…everything was posted out for everyone to see. I was left wondering why in the world would people open up like that. But then I realized this was a natural progression caused by raising the crucial question,” How far are you willing to go with it?” or in this case of social network “How socialistic are you?”. This was a challenge thrown on to the world and many accepted it. Being a challenge, it does have many concerns; firstly whom do you accept as friends. Now the key hurdle here is to strike a balance between the fake prestige you have in increasing your friend count with actually giving these guys a peek into your social life, well not just a peek but by allowing them to post you are giving them a say on your life & thoughts too. Can you deal with that?
Second concern, what you post. Most of us live compartmentalized lives. Keeping different set of friends away from each other, keeping friends away from your colleagues, colleagues away from your relatives, and relatives away from…well… everyone. Each compartment is filled different view of you and a different take on what you do or say. A wall post because of its accessibility and its nature to announce its presence to all carries the risk of torpedoing down these compartments to a greasy unsalvageable mess. The comments which follow the posts wont help much either. Say if you are a shy sober conservative & intelligent guy living in one compartment and imagine there is a wild below the belt post coming out of the rebellious side of yours…do you hear that…KABOOOM. Add to that you receive a comment digging up a few graves…can you see the mushroom cloud now. Third and final concerns are the games you play & societies you join. Rajesh life partner is…Ramesh’s kissing score is… Richa likes “Wild Rave Parties Club”…should I say anything more. I have just listed a few concerns but of course I am a beginner and I am sure the ardent users may suggest many more. But with just these many concerns I find myself treading carefully as if tip toeing through a mine field. It’s an exhaustive process…fun…but exhaustive. This however doesn’t mean I am going to stop facebooking (if there is such a word), neither should any person part of this forum. It’s our chartered duty to do so for our constitution has said that India is a socialistic democratic country and we have to uphold that.
Jai hind

” huh, now there is something you don’t see everyday…” i said as my eyes kept following the bike as it headed towards the other end of the colony.

“I am going out next week to see a girl for marriage” he said

” they don’t seem married to me ” I observed based on how young the guy behind the bike was, the gal had a helmet on so couldn’t take a call.May be I should have taken a look at her neck  for mangal sutra , it wasnt there I guess .Well but the bike was too fast to take a call.

” The family is close friends to my uncle,am leaving to Mysore”

“times sure have changed ,haven’t they ”  i continued, thinking how the hell did that phrase of my uncle caught up to me.

We continued eating the corn as we watched a crowd gather around a wailing kid who had tripped and had got himself injured on the park pavement.The  old men in the crowd were busy scolding the municipality, while the women were busy pouring in the their expertise on first aid, the kid soon got quite and sat on a bench near by may be found it safer to bear the pain .as i lingered by,

” So , would you like to come “

” Where ?”

“Mysore”

“Why ?, on a trip”

” No , the marriage thing I just said”

” You getting married ??? , when”

“Na, Next weekend…”

“You getting married next weekend??”

“No you idiot, I am going to see the girl,next weekend.I said it just now. Didn’t you listen”

“Oh sorry.. guess not.You know with the girl, and the bike and the mangalsutra and all”

“What mangalsutra?”

“The one she wasn’t wearing, wait,may be she was christen…should have searched for a ring then”

“What ??”

“Ya you are right, the bike was too fast for getting that too”

“Huh !!! “

“Oh ya your marriage, sorry.So when are you going?”

“Saturday morning, me and few family members.Would you like to come?”

“Ah Saturday, have office you see.anyway will let you know”

“Hmm”

“Ya…have you seen the girl”

“You mean in person, no… no just a snap of her.She is pretty.”

“Pretty what ?”

“No pretty, as in beautiful. She is beautiful. See” he picked up the cell placed on the car bonnet and shuffling through its file.Then he handed over the mobile to me .

“that s her” he said.

He had taken a snap of a snap, so was kind of blur but not enough to hide the fact that  she was a nice looking girl.

“Ya , she is good looking” i said, careful not to use any of those other words which guys normally use at such circumstances, I mean I wouldn’t want to offend m friends future wife would I?.

“So , what will you do or ask there, I mean when you see her, the girl that is”

“I don’t know, haven’t really thought about it really.May be will go with the moment I guess”.He was lying, he must have gone over it a million times I guess.I mean here was a guy who used to plan his move in the loo if you leave him, he wouldn’t go in without a game plan.Or may be… just may be he actually didn’t, may be this time it was different.Marriage changes a lot of things they say, what if it changed him too that too just the mere thought of it that is.

“hmmm,so marriage huh”

“yaa, … I guess its time” he said.His words sounded as if  he was about to catch a train bound to the unknown.

He was in bit of a hurry to go home , so we bid each other good bye and left.The thought of  his transition lingered around for a while before it was taken over by hunger.The next day was a pain, not just because it was a Sunday on which I had to wake up early but also a  Sunday were in I had to attend a  function.It was my a naming ceremony for a niece of mine.Mom and dad had to go, so I became the designated driver.Its not like I hate going to family functions, I enjoy the company of my cousins there actually as we always have a great time, its just I hate the entire process before and after the function of deciding how to dressing up ,the route there, the time one has to be there,waiting up for others to dress up, waiting for everyone to dress up, everyone to have lunch,leave etc etc.Such a bane.I guess my cribbing on functions has become repeatative.Anyway the ordeal of getting ready ended at 10 and 1 hour and two wrong turns later we made it to the temple were a small crowd had already gathered, of just the family.As i settled down with my cousins, my parents went on to the older lot.We  are quite a few of us within the same age bracket , so its always great company to have.The ceremony was reaching its final phases.The day was hot  and humid as we sat below the cool shade of a coconut tree and waited for lunch to be served.

My mother who till now was lost in the group of aunts suddenly emerged and started vehemently waving her hand calling me near.I approached her  I was suddenly surrounded by this entourage of middle aged ladies.One of my aunt took the centre and started off.

“So I was telling your mother that its a very nice household, actually they are related to us, and they have a daughter and they were searching for a boy and I said to them we had a boy and suitable one too.. so I told your mother and she said its all upto you.. so what do you say?? “

“What ???, what are you talking about”

“What do you say, should I take it forward?”

“What , ?? marriage…No no no,..you cant..I mean  I am just 26 …I  don’t..”

“27″ mom interrupted

“26 mom, born in 84, do the math” I fumed

” ya it means 27 running, so its  practically 27″ she argued

“Whatever I am not marrying for 2 years at least”

“Look you are 26 now but the wedding is a long process of a year, by the time you get married you will be 28″ one of the entourage members proposed

“Ya and trust me you better get married now because  after 29 you don’t get girls you see, I have this relative of mine ,  they searched for a girl after 30, two years and still searching” another one pitched in

“Ya and you get married now the age difference with kids will be less, no generation gap you see.. less trouble understanding them”

As I was bombarded with facts on mortality and matrimony my mind just couldn’t stop swirling, i mean just moments ago I was sitting with guys discussing football scores and a minute latter i am already married with kids worrying if i can bloody  understand them.Just then a guy came inviting everyone for lunch and the  lot of women vanished in a jiffy.I brought myself back to my senses and headed off for lunch.I avoided the entire row of tables which had my aunts seated on them.My idea was to eat the lunch as soon as possible and sneak out of the place into the comfort and safety of my car.So I choose the seat nearest to the exit, skipped a few items and zipped out of there.As I briskly walked towards my car I realized a dreadful fact, I had left my mobile behind.God, was the dread of facing the firing aunt squad worth loosing my mobile.Hmmm, it was a tough call to make, well and i had a call to make, I mean literally , to an office colleague.So I had to go back.I sneaked into check out if the pack was still there.It seemed it had scattered.I could see my mobile lying down near the chair below the tree.I ran to get it and as i turned back she was here again.The person who fired the first bullet.

“So ” she said  ”What do you say, should I take it forward?”

“Aunty, not for a yer and half, sorry”

“What year, it will take a year.The girl is out of college, she is a very nice girl, very calm and quite,  and from a good family…”

Boy she sounded like a car salesman selling a car ” no dent, very smooth, you know the company its great you know…”

“Dont you dare say that” my mom shouted from behind me

Oh my god I must have thought out loud, and for the feminist that my mom is was fuming.

“Don’t you dare speak about a girl like that, what the hell do you mean selling car.Do you think this is business. this is a human being you talking about so mind your tongue son”

I apologized, on second thought I was out of line.

“What do you say?” my aunt pitched in.

“Before I could pitch in any more lame excuse, mom came to my rescue.

“Dont force him, he said a year later.Lets see then ok”

“Ok ” my aunt agreed.”but she was a good girl”

I joined my mother as we headed towards the car.

“don’t put me in such situations mom, you know “

“Look, now you better accept this where ever you go you will face this.After all, you are  in the market now” she said with a mild smile .I still couldn’t get what was the smile about, was it on seeing her sons ignorance or the commotion or was it a smile with a sense of achievement to know what had started with two years of no marriage has been without my own knowledge been brought down to a year by her.

Just then my mobile beeped.it was a message from my friend, ” R u comin 2 mysore dude?”. I smiled

PS: Its still 2 years

How could something so obvious be so shocking.

May be that’s the very part of being human.Every heart  bled a bit when the vacations end, when the school and college phase passed by,when moving out of housed.The inevitable has always been ignored.As if the more at the face it gets, the more you look the other way.But these are phases of  your life ,it ends it ends,but when a life in your life ends, its different.

Every life of a loved one that goes away takes something from  you, something that part of your true self. It’s a nauseous ache ,one you  cannot cure but one with which you come to terms with.It gives out a strange feeling as if..as if  something has died within you or may be, just may be  something is reborn.As if the seeds of emotions are sown and as the memories starts to drip in,they take life .Their roots spread through the cracks of the wall of stubbornness we had built around to make us immune to the truth and as the roots spread, the cracks widen, what sprouts out is the realisation of the very truth we try so hard to guard against, “I am human , and I will die some day too”.

With this strange  realisation arises, the whole concept of time changes.A while ago you hardly 26  young and time seemed endless, now ,now seems are a man with twenty-six years of life without spent without making any attempt to make a mark in the world.With this strange  realisation arises, the whole concept of  relationships changes.A expectation to have new ones turns to a an endeavour to value and enhance the ones existing.With this strange  realisation arises, the whole concept of  success changes.What was once an unending thirst  to be recognised by others becomes a quest to satisfy yourself. most importantly,With this strange  realisation arises, the whole concept of  life changes.What was once an unending ordeal to face another day becomes  a fortunate opportunity to realise and have new dreams.

” All the best ” : Used in exams, interviews, & court trials with capital sentence

“Have a great life ahead ” : used in marriages, birthdays, most recently divorces

“Take care” : the persons neither sick nor dying so, naa

“Many many happy returns of the day” : OK, i am dead

what to say, what to say ??

The situation of the the farewellee should be worse.what can he say

“Thank god I quit “

“So long suckers”

“I found a way out ,u didn’t”

I don’t know.I have never been on the other side of party where I have quit, …well,… not yet.But this does remind me of the farewells of my academic life.Boy they were a cocky .I remember my first farewell in 10th.we were the first batch coming out of school.like the ambassadors for its academic excellence ( OK, u can stop laughing now).We were called up to this evening event and i remember being distinctly excited about it as it was my first farewell.We were assembled in this room and briefed about the event.Highlight about the event, we were supposed to march into the gathering with a a small plate held up by one hand with a candle affixed on the top of it.imagine 80 guys and gals synchronized marching in like food vendors in railway station.then followed the long dragging speeches by the old brigade.Lecturing us to do this,do that, change the face of India.forget India,I had so many pimples ,I wanted to change my face first.once this torture ended, then started the biggest torture of them all… crying.

The girls opened the flood gates first, then the teachers, and then surprise surprsie surprise, the juniors.Everyone coming in crying their hearts out.one senti junior came by “We will miss you,booh booh…  keep in touch ok..boo-oh boo….don’t forget us…booh..boh”. And all the while I was thinking.. forget you ??, let me remember you first.. who the hell are you man**. I have never understood why people cry at farewell.and this has bugged me at everyone I have been to.If it is for all the great moment one had then one has to  letting it go.If the moment lasted forever it wont be as valuable as it is now.So stop crying and start having fun.make the best of whatever time you have.As they say Good byes is fates way of saying I have better plans for everyone.

(** : This inability of mine to remember my juniors haunted me through all my farewells.It made me hang on to the most informed guy in the class so that every junior who would drop by to say bye, i could promptly look at him for help.)

Huh…That’s why I like apples, they are less complicated.

I was tired of all the thought i was putting into staring at a carton full of the stupid fruit. I looked up to see a middle aged woman staring at me like a freak. She wore nighty to a super market with a with a florescent pallu and a Hawaii chappal to add to the chaos. So she is hardly anyone to pass judgment on me, I thought, as i packed up a healthy mix of green & yellow oranges. as I randomly picked up half a dozen oranges & headed off to the billing counter placed at the far end. As i did, i could sense a draw, a seducing call from all the racks stuffed with all the wonderful belly buldgers.The junk chunk,the shrikands,the cookies, the savories and breweries, each and every one of them to which I may fallen prey to if not for my mighty resolve and tighty wallet. When I was younger, I always found going to the super market to be like going to a fair. With colors and lights spread across everywhere, where you can roam around all day and discover these new fascinating items in every corner. It was like Wonderland. .Even now, I feel its a wonderland , because you come out and start ‘wondering’ what did u go in to buy in the first place.

As i reached near the counter i saw there were 3 ques. One with two guys with a trolley full of items and the other with 6 guys with a carry bag full of stuff they were duped to buy. Hmmm..now starts the thought process that’s excruciatingly confusing while you are in a super market….which que to join in to. Its like a life and death decision, and every second counts. You start analyzing the trolley and the bag. Of course the items in trolley are more if the bag is big and is full .But what if they are few items but are bulky, unlike the bags where in the items are more though and only fill a small bag. Volume vs Mass..hmmm.After peeking and choking my brains out i decided to join the 6 member que.As I stood i watched with baited breath the rate at which the other row was getting cleared. With every item of the trolley being billed eyes started looking forward at the first guy in my que.Oh common move, move, i shouted in my head. One trolley was cleared on the other end while only one guy from my que was cleared. Its movements like these when you look at your watch and go…. two minutes!!!!… you gotta be kidding me. It gotta be more than that. You look at the hands of the clock … if the seconds hand is a bit slower than usual, u wonder. Hmmmm, Wonderland it is !!

Anyway when my turn did come it was over in a jiffy. A kilo of oranges and a deodorant polythened and tagged. And after the swipe there is the customary sign on the receipt. Its as if cashier is officially confirming that ,no matter how unreasonably priced treated or  quantified it may be, I and only I am solely responsible for all the crap that I purchase, consume or utilize using all the hard earned money (hardly earned in some cases)  that the small card represents. As i signed the receipt i read this pamphlet laying on the cashiers table an offer which promised a house and also free education scholarship. Getting curious I inquired.

“It’s an offer Sir” ‘ she exclaimed” If you buy any product worth 2oo, you can get a offer card which you can fill up and put it in a box. In a draw they will pick out a winner who will win a house. There are 5 houses to be won’

“So to win this I have to be the one among all the lakhs of buyers you have in India?” i asked

“Yes, kind of, would you like one” she offered timidly.

“Sorry mam I aint that lucky” I said as I passed through the door.

As I walked  back home , what i said at the end stayed with me.

Its been a long time since I pushed my luck anywhere.I remember days when there the show Surabhi ,with Prahalad Kakkar & Renuka Sahane (for you to visualize, she is the babhi in HAHK) ,in DD where in questions where asked and we were supposed to send across Postcards with answers. I used to send across five to six of them and wait for the televised draw to call out my name, but it never would. I had developed this weird  theory that may be as my cards used to come from south it used to come in late so it used to end up in the top of the lot, but when they pick the cards they do so in the the middle or bottom  lot. Then there was sticker in the washing powder pack craze, where in every kilo pack had a sticker with points mentioned on it, one had to collect 500 of points to win a prize,. of course the sticker values never crossed 10 and the fact that my dad used to buy couple of half  kilo packs (his idea to control consumption) also didn’t help my cause. Oh then there was the Big babool & Boomer ,their bubble bait with scratch cards revealing the number, the combination of which will then be announced on TV .Lotto, yes i tried a bit of that too.3 number , 10 number ,my luck was in deep slumber. Well at least it had the cute chicks who used to bear the bad news. Oh ya don’t remind me of KBC try outs. Six was my lucky number there. If you call up six times continuously, you had a chance of getting Big B on the small T, I mean telephone. Six, nothing more , anything more or less at a time will result in busy tone. But of course I still couldn’t find what the lucky number after qualifying, to get called on to the show. Guess 32 wasn’t it. curse the FM channels who made me spend my …well my dads hard earned  money on all the right answers to questions. Moral learnt, if the question is stupid, don’t try answering it. Stupid questions are destiny’s children and will find their soul mate as stupid as themselves. Thus as you can see, my overall track record of mine with contests and games  is as bad as Harman Bawejas Career graph, lots of misses and no hits. So I never get into them any more. When i mentioned this to friend of mine, he said that the belief that one can be rich/prosperous without one actually trying is inherent, loosing it would be loosing innocence, I would prefer to see it as dawning of intelligence.

Thank you for reading this far, if it didn’t make sense to you, welcome to my group.

“Will tell you latter” I murmured as I engaged myself  in grown men’s favorite pass time,…. shuffling channels.

“What latter? If you are not coming, I got to cook something and leave, so tell me now ” mom frowned.

“oh..Stop pampering him, If  he gets hungry, he will cook his own god damn food, why do you worry” dad shouted from the veranda. : Strike 1

“No way ” mom said

“Ah moms “, i thought, “such gullible species”

“If i leave him to himself,” she continued” the lazy bug would spend all afternoon watching the damn TV and ask me  cook something when I am back. He thinks its better to stay hungry than to move a muscle” : Strike 2

Man that’s so derogatory…extremely derogatory…True,… but so derogatory.

“Hu, its you who have raised him so” Dad coming into the hall.. “Anyway, why do you cook. What’s left of yesterday?” ; Strike 3  & I was up.

“OK where is the marriage?’ I asked shutting the TV down and throwing the remote on to Diwan.

” “Not marriage re, reception. And its near  Busvangudi somewhere, look at the card latter”

“But aint receptions in the night usually’

“Ya, but they could not get it for night. Used by someone else”

“What are you talking about ?”

“The hall re, then what”

“Thought the bride”

“What??”

“Nothing, whose marriage is it again”

“Not marriage, receptionnnnnn… ” Mom said corrected me again as she walked  into the master bedroom to get ready ” Its of Jalja aunt’s Niece..I had told you in the morning na… God u cant remember anything na.. how do you work in office?”

Hmmm, interesting question , even my boss wonders the same I guess.

“and wear something decent. Not your Jeans and T-Shirt and all” she reminded me as I headed off to the room to get changed.

Ok now:

Name: Operation Wardrobe.

Objective: Not to make a fool of oneself

Resources :  > Fashion Sense    ( Note:  Limited in supply)

                          > Wardrobe full of dresses ( Disclaimer : All may not Fit )         

Means : By selecting the most wearable & bearable dress from the dump of unironed, unmatched(i.e none matches with the other), untidy attires.

I hate getting dressed for functions, its always been such a bane.

Ok ok I can almost hear all the females shouting , “You think you have it tough, ???”

Ya, ok I agree they have a tougher time getting the dress, the colour, the accessories and the narcissist ego to match  (ok You can officially declare me dead now), but anyway the problem they usually face is of plenty. They tend to go around asking “Should I wear this or should I wear that”

Well guys, we usually ask  ”Does this look ironed to you ? , wait i will inshirt tightly …, now ?? “

Anyway after serious contemplation and analysis I concluded the White shirt with blue stripes and a black trouser looked less untidy than the rest and had a better chance of being passed off as elegant. But still ,I folded the trouser,put it below the mattress and rolled over the top of the mattress, I mean why take chances right. After dressing up we were off to this function in our car.

As we entered the hall people awaited in the entrance giving a wide smile, asking ever so courteously to have the welcome drink (which turned out to be grape juice).

“Who are they?” I asked mom.

“Who?” mom asked as we entered the hall

‘The people in the entrance?”

‘How do I know, must be from the grooms side’ she murmured from the edge of her lips as she cruised through smiling at every familiar face around.

Ok time to get on to my job now, find the relative who has made you endure this torture , give an attendance(punch in ), find a nice place below a fan and then, and well wait for the lunch to be served. This standard operating procedure is the same for all third party functions, from birthdays, to marriages to thithis/barsis.So inline with that, found Jalja aunty, spoke to her , found a place near the fan and to my luck it was also near the Dining hall entrance .Strategically perfect.

Now comes the hardest part, time passing . Mom found many old aquantices and dad his old colleagues. And me, well ‘Main aur meri tanhayee aksar ye bathey karthe hai, Khana lag jatha tho achha hotha’.

The pattern of the crowd remains the same everywhere.Among the woman, the old traditional lot discussing who all died recently and all the temples they had visited, the middle aged ones crooning on the newest jewelry , recipes and the mega serial twists and turns , the younger lot related to the bride or groom continue their ramp walk either on diaz or around the hall roaming from one end to another for no practical reason, and the other young ones who arent related to either side  stick to their moms while msg their way to glory. But one thing that all of them did was Gossip, this factor cut across the age barrier.

The men, well, they are a simple lot, old ones discuss politics, middle aged ones discuss business and profession and the young ones films/bikes/cars .The one factor cut across age groups here was cricket.

Then the queue began to load up to wish the bride and groom. God, I pity the couple.Standing out there smiling ,shaking hands with people who wish them ,all the while thinking, “Who the hell is this person smiling at me, god I hope he is from the other side .I don’t want to embarrassed “.These lines are very long, moving damn slowly with people at the front of the line too busy either introducing themselves or taking a snaps. Just when I thought of joining the line , people began to sit for lunch. The biggest decision of  functions  is when you got to choose between wishing the couple or going to lunch, etiquette vs practicality ,decency vs time saving, the right thing to do vs the smart thing to do, as always, hunger prevails.

The food was predictable too, the same old routine of  rotis and palav and gulab jamuns and all. I have never been good with buffets. Till now I have been unable to decide if its good to go through the entire line putting in whatever you want on the plate or go to and forth in the line as and when I complete.

After lunch I came out searching for mom and dad.Both had decided to be decent so had to wait till they wished the couple and had their lunch. Me spending the the time as I listened to two old women talking about the flaws in the lunch and how hard it was to chew the rumali roti with their fake teeth, and another set of old men discussing the conspiracy theory of how ambani brothers split was all a drama. I was waiting for mom and dad to come out .As soon as they  did, I started roaming around them interrupting their last minute conversation with my gestures, …you know…, showing the watch standing behind the listners back , rotating the steering, rolling eye balls pointing towards the door , frowning , long sad faces and all such mature subtle ones. Anyway, finally they bid their last good byes and headed out of the hall with my mom boiling with anger at my very sight.

As soon as we entered the car the volcano erupted.

“I am never taking you to another function again. Can’t you just wait for a while. Grow up,  start knowing your acquaintances, kith and kin. Thats the problem with you younger lot you know’

Then my dad ‘ Whats wrong with you, why dont you speak with anyone. Learn to socialize’

God I want to record this dialog of his and make my lecturers hear it and say ‘Take that you all who said I talk a lot”.

The firing continued as I started my car. Huh, the sound of the engine had never sounded sweeter.

The scoldings subdued as I started to drive, which was quite natural as mom preferred to pray when I drove.

Just then my mobile rang, I was my cousin,Raghav (jaljas auntys son).He had not turned up to the reception as he could not get a leave in the company in Mumbai.I asked him if  we could meet up.He said he would leave after Lalithas wedding.

“Who?” i asked

“lalitha”

“Who is lalitha”

“The bride whose reception you just attended , hahahah”

“oh, anyway will give you a call latter , me driving now da , ok bye ‘ I cut the call cleared embarrassed and amused.

“ho was it’ mom asked.

“Raghav’

“Is he coming today? “

“No, he is coming to Lalithas wedding” I said

‘Ahhh… who was it again???” she asked, quite puzzled.

Huh, so much for keeping in touch .

Hmmmm Memorable… what can i say… the college thing,.. na too long…the crush thing,,..too short… the classroom thing… na too self obsessed.. the fantasy thing…hmm tooo embarrassing…the life thing.. na too much too soon. Its such a bad process of selection of right thing to write about especially when you have nothing to write about. Suddenly you fall short of things to tell.

Most of my early schooling was in a very small town. There were just two English Medium schools , one was the ever so popular and never on the wrong side  and the other, well the other was mine, never so popular but ever so crowded one.The school of mine was bit in the interiors. It was near a temple, well almost near. If you could ignore the lake that separated both. Well then I should have said it was near a lake  and then said that there was a temple near it, shouldn’t I ??.Hmm… Oh what the hell I was always bad in geography anyway. Ok  my school was near a lake and also near a temple, but the lake was nearer than the temple as temple came after the lake…huh…I hope you get the picture, then there was also the banyan tree which could also be a landmark as banyan tree was beside the temple but behind the lake, but it cannot actually be behind the lake, can it ?,as ,well, you know as the lake is open on all sides and all, so the temple and tree are both are beside and not behind as there is no behind… as its is a circl…oh forget it the point I want to make is, the school of mine had a very serene enviornment. I still remember sitting near the window of the schools hallway and watching for hours the children jumping into the lake to swim with their tyre tubes and inverted kodas/ghadas, the kingfisher taking a nose dive to catch a fish , angelic white cranes walking  on the banks majestically , grown men  with big fat bellies and short underpants taking a dip(the image i have tried so hard to get out of my head) .It was a great place to be. I had done my Kindergarten in the school , and when they started Primary education too , dad found it to be suitable to see that I continued in the same school.Or may be it was dads way of saying ” You have bearded him till now, so well, you gotta go all the way baby”. Talk about being victim of ones own success.

Whatever might be the case, I continued in the same school. But soon, the strength started to increase. There were 4 sections of 3rd , 5 sections of 2nd Std. It was almost like children learnt alphabets by remembering their section names. The school  tried its  best to cope with the strength. They used screens to split halls and make them to classes, they made cardboard walls to spilt a class into two. They converted a store room into a class, then the terrace , then the school stage(which we used to love as it was like the balcony view of the school).By the time I was in the Fourth standard every inch of school was a class. Then began diasterama. Children swung with the screen and broke their teeth, storage room started leaking, children fainted with suffocation or may be it was after watching the fat men in underpants.. I am not sure… anyway the fact was  walls of the fort were crumbling..I mean literally crumbling, the cardboard ones at least, right on to teachers heads. It was decided that it was time to move. They had by then collected enough funds to buy a new land. The construction of new school began when I was in 4th and ended in mid of 5th std. The new school was was a a few kilometers away from the old one, still in the interiors but less serene. Well hardly serene, it was near a old barren farm land which inturn was used by us as ground. Being far off also meant that I had to go to school in an auto now. There were two autos commuting my area. One was the “Cool Wagon” it had cushion seats,, the driver was friendly, music system, sparkling colored jiggling lights on the edges of wind shield, and a cool drawing of Salman khan on the Back, the other auto was, well the other one was mine. Small cramped, kick start, crippled , ugly one , the driver was eternally like a frustrated life sucked version of Nana Patekar on a very bad day. Everyday I used to travel in the auto I could see  the ground slip right under my feet, I mean literally, there was a  hole in the floor of the auto. Anyway, the worst part was that he was never punctual. We were around 11 children who were always the last to be picked up.

In one of those days of waiting we were invited into the house of this old lady. To be really honest i don’t remember the first day i entered the house, nor who were all with me. I cant really remember  the house really looked like either. It was a clay tile roofed house, with mud walls blue in color and floor coated with red oxide, it was a small house with few windows around keeping it dark in the interiors. It had a garden behind it with trees guava, jackfruit mango and coconut. There was a small verandah kept warm by the shades of the tree even in the scorching summer heat. I dont remember that clearly how she looked either. I think she was tall stout almost giant like,( or may be I was so young and small every one seemed to be too tall in hindsight, I don’t know).hair a mixture of of pearl white and black turning inch by inch as if fighting hard to remain young, white round face wrinkles on the forehead with a big round kumkum on it. But what I do remember is her  she spoke with a shaky slow voice pausing in between (mostly to gulp in the beetle leaves she ate so often ) as she used to make all of kids to it in the veranda telling tales of creatures wild and mythical which had roamed around in the small town of ours. Of tigers which roamed in pairs on the streets  during summer nights, of witch who stood near the banyan tree during full moon nights asking passersby for beetle leaf which always used to fall down her palms (as it had a big hole in it), and as the passerby bend to pick the arrecnut up , it broke his back to pieces. Weird stories, every day that used to make my nights hell. She literally prepared me for VTU by making me learn the art of night ups.But everyday, we used to go back as w e could not get enough of those stories.

By the time I was in Sixth std I had moved out of the Town to Dharwad. Never went near the school until last year when I had enough free time for some flashback. The school still remains overcrowded; the cardboard dividers are back in action. The auto drivers still there but has been asked not to drive the auto by well …the court. The house were the old lady stood has been decimated. Nothing stands there but barren old land with few coconut trees. She had died of heart attack and her sons had sold the land to a builder who is about to build a complex there.

What’s the point of all this article u might ask.

Simple , …absolutely Nothing.

But dont worry, you will forget this wasted moment  too. Like most things in life.

It was late in the evening and I was sitting in my room,engaged in my daily endeavour of finding some sensible News in the clutter of ads and gossip ironically called the newspaper.They call it “Times of India”, they should call it “Rhymes of India” coz the news is so childish and lame.’Adnan Sami lost weight’, tho….? koi ehsaan kiya kya. ’Scientists find the part of brain that responds to ice creams’ .. wow… but the more important question is were did they find the guy with a brain… coz they r so tough to find these days and once who do have a brain,wont allow it to be wasted on such lame research.’French President’s secretary carrying his child’..Good.. at least he has something to show as work done at the end of his term.”Paris Hilton breaks up with her boy friend”… wait this is yesterdays newspaper…wokay what difference does it make…God its so tough to fill your brains with something sensible these days.

Anyway back to the scream,I was taken totally aback by it.

What was back??

Was it the rat which had sneaked into the house and they had to call up the maid’s 5 year old  son to get rid of it as i was too scared to approach it, or was it the scar on the white portico wall made by my mud toiled hands after cleaning the mud toiled car which I had amateurishly camouflaged with toothpaste, or was it the pamphlet of the Pizza Center near by pompously propagating the latest chicken delicacies which always floats on to my mom’s lap when she goes out to do some Tulsi Pooja ,or is the the orchestra which had played all night long coz our local youth forum fail to understand the co-relation between Rajyosthsava and Nov 1.

As I came to the hall I saw mom and dad sitting and watching news(a habit which I have almost left,reasons require another blog ).I came and asked mom what was the hulla all about.

“Its back”  she said pointing the TV.

There was something on it on elections.

“What the elections ?… They are always back…once in 5 years… or even less than that”

“Arrey no re… wait” she said

I waited with with baited breath watching Sonia Gandhi giving speech in Hintalian  and the people gathered around giving away a roaring applaud,more than enough to make up for the biryani and 20 Rs that they will be paid…the local leaders calling her a saviour.. god the Sycophants in the nation.. one party beats the other.As the piece ended she was at it again.

“See See See.. the news reader”

“What about her?”

“Zig Zag”

“Huh? “

“Remember the Sari which I got on  Rajeev Uncle’s Wedding (Name Changed for the safety of, well… the writer) ,the one in Chennai… ” ok ..Flashes in mind.. Flash1 >Rajeeeev >Not the bald One>Not the Fat one>Not the one with thunder laugh>Aha the french beard uncle<…Flash 2>Wedding sari?? >Ahhh  > Ahhh > Ahhh < Nope fullly blank.

“What Sari mom?”

“Arrey the green one, .. see .. I had stopped wearing it as it was very old .It had a zig zag pattern on the border .Thick dark green pattern.See.. just like the one that the news reader is wearing..see.. its back in fashion kano. Have to get it out from Almirah and give it out for dry wash tomorrow”

OK.. I know what you are thinking .. all this build up for a stupid sari pattern.Well, for mom its a fashion landmark.The golden opportunity that most middle class moms look forward to, the opportunity to REUSE.Mom and many other that I know always find their fashion tips based on the news reader.

As far as I could remember, the news readers have always made a style statement.Especially during the DD Days.The long open hair of the mews reader of  Sadan Vartha, honey comb hair style of the news reader in the news for the deaf, the rose on the side, the necklace of pearl, the siphon sari, the cotton saris with patterns of zig zag to mix match.I still remember mom taking a mental note of what to buy in those illusive festival shopping expeditions.But nowadays its all gone bad.The Barkahs and the Sumans for all their eloquence have been a disappointment to the mom lots.They now have to rely on regional news.Such lowering of standards you see.

Hope someone in the media industry is listening.We need the dumb damsels back.Go hell with matter over mode theory, there aint no matter left anyway atleast we can have better dressed moms.

I did not know how to react.You usually dont know how to react to sarcastic questions, especially when its based on truth.

Ya, its true, I watch a lot of movies.Am I addicted to movies ??? well not really.Addiction is when u have a habit of doing something again and again without using much thought.I put a lot of thought before I go theatre.I only watch  specific movies ,the good ones, in theatre… well the rest on DVD

The Beginings of the  Movie Puff (Coz its all  Junk anyway).

When I was growing up, I never  had cable connection at home.TV itself came by quite late.Though our TV was quite suffisticated for its time (it had 32 channel !!!), dad never took cable connection as he thought it would affect my studies.Looking back it was a wise decision, I had a hard time studying even with a Ear Twisting, Belan Maaring, Knuckles  Kutting person for a mom, if  cable existed then God save my academics and more so my knuckles.But that did not mean I never saw movies. I used to receive a dose of art cinema and regional cinema through Doordarshan.That dose made me dose off.For all those who havent experienced or undergo the drudgery of  a badly made  Art cinema , its like u are sitting for 2 hrs watching an old gramophone running a record on low voltage.It moves slowly slowly , on and on and on and on…..where people go and go and go…stare and stare and stare.. sit for long and long and long….. well you get the idea.My access to actual timepass cinema came when a friend’s folks bought a TV and installed cable in their home.The cable operator used to play many recent releases of Mithun and govinda twice on weekdays .But as kids we used to look forward to Saturday as it was the day when he used to put all these Kung Fu movies.You the Young dragon,Dragon claw, revenge of the dragon , dragon fist, dragon this dragon that.. dragon dragon..of course there was the master routine to break the mundane.. young master,  Drunken Master, Shoalin Master etc etc etc.The script were routine , Villain kills family or master=> Hero fights with villain=> Villain beats son /pupil => Son / pupil defeated => learns kungfufrom a forgotten ,old & unlikely master => gets an some ancient technique=>kills villan with that technique. But what was amusing were the villains, always dressed in some stupid over the top costume with a loud smile.What was still amusing are the so called ancient techniques which they suggest, monkey claw, dragon fist, drunken monkey, crane fist etc etc.We as kids always used to wonder how could the Chinese do such marvelous stunts.My friend (the one who had the TV) used to say that’s because the Chinese te all kinds of stuff.They were flexible coz they ate Snake, they were thin coz they ate cockroach and they could jump so well coz  they ate frog.this friend of mine was afraid of everything, so may be he ate too much chicken then.

Anyway my da took me to the my first movie ever when I was  7 or I guess it was 8. So an evening when it was raining cats and dogs, thunder , lightning and the  entire scare band going full guns, dad takes his 8 year old son to watch Jurrasic Park.Now.. Beat That. God I couldn’t sleep all night that day.our house was surrounded by coconut palms, the rain hadn’t stopped and the wind blew hard, no power , me all alone in my bedroom.I spent half the night looking under my bed for for that that weird looking dino with the umbrella thingi popping from behind its head and spitting venom. But still I don’t think I think it was the a great first movie to have watched..The first shot of the dinosaur with a long long neck hoping on to its hind legs, standing up and eating the leaves off the the tall tree, lingers n in my mind.It still gives me goosebumps.It in many ways opened up my mind to  the true magic of cinema.I don’t know may be its because of that i am a bit passionate about cinema. 

Over the years I have watched a lot of movies.In the due course I have realised the way and kind of movies that I watch.Let me start with kind.I like watching only one kind of cinema.every kind.Horror,action, senti, mental, comedy, tragedy, whatever.I go into the movie hall based on my instincts, not reviews in media nor recommendations by my friends, pure gut feeling.Only thing that I expect is it to hold me till the show ends.So all the movies I have watched I can classify them into just two sets, ones that I could sit through and ones that I could not.There were quite a few movies that I had walked off.Mohhabatien, kabi Kushi Kabhi (chewing) Gum, Mann to name afew.These were some bad bad movies. Couldn’t even sit through them.And I make a point to collect DVDs of all the movies that have held on and moved on with me.Lord of the Rings, Pirates series, Terminal etc etc.

Now let me talk about the way I watch a movie. Many people think that I like watching movies alone.No, I don’t like watching movies alone its just that I dont mind watching them so.I have seen people who are scared of doing so.I am sorry but I dont have such phobia.But as far as comedies are concerned, I just cant watch them alone.I got to laugh along.Action, thrillers, horror movies, it doesn’t make any difference for me if people are around as I cant chat along.

Anyway gotta go,  aot another movie to see. Enter the Dragon.