Stage: Straight out of a mid morning crisis in a BEST bus plying a critical route, a journey lasting 30 mins on the worst day.
Actors: Mr.Y - A concerned citizen of the metro, a guy in his mid 20s.
Mr.A - A 'whatever' citizen in his mid 40s.
Ms.Me - The silent observer.
Setting: Bus fast approaching a bus stop ABC. A signal at a stone's throw distance before the stop.The bus lessens pace by 5 kmph to ready itself for a red.
Stage positions: Mr.Y on the first door step, keen on getting out first and getting a life.
Mr.A right behind Y and on his heels already.
Ms.Me has no rush to get down ever. The destionation is stop ABC+1 anyway.
Scene 1:
Mr.A: Let me have way man. I need to get down.
Mr.Y: No problem dude. Even I'm getting down at ABC. Chill.
Mr.A: Oh cut the crap and move it.
Mr.Y: What's the rush man? You dont wanna get down now.
Mr.A: What's itching your ***(something about the sister)..??
Mr.Y: Why'd you wanna get off a running bus, you old man?
Mr.A: I die by falling from a runnin bus, how does it affect you idiot..?
Bus stalls at ABC. Dialogue ends. Mr.Y and Mr.A rush out like they have an emergency to attend to. Bus departs.
Scene 2: Introduce, unknown to all, a really concerned citizen, hale and healthy, currently occupying the seat for the physically challenged. Manages to successfully catch the attention of the bus driver.
Him: :) What amusing characters? One cares for the life of another who doesnt care for it himself.
Driver: They have to die, why cant they take the train instead? My bus is not for such things. And the trains have a higher hit rate you know??
Him: Hee..yeah yeah..
Bus stalls at ABC+1. Ms.Me alights.
Ms.Me: I wonder what the world is coming to!!
20 December 2006
04 October 2006
Irritants unlimited
There are some who dare to call me finicky and others who still havent crossed certain threshholds act nice enough to call me particular, but i agree; there are few things that really manage to move my days frmo bad to worse in a jiffy. And when such things are within my space of control, I make it a point to voice my opinion about it and make my irritation known. And sitting idle in one of those rare occasions, I realised there were a few of those "things", that vexed me at all times of occurrence, irrespective of my saner moods. A quick jot of those would be...
Tsssk..Tcchh..Take the order man..!!
Any form of discourtesy to waiters and attendants at hotels irks me, for the sheer reason that neither of us chose to be where we are at that very moment. And for all those who shout out at waiters for tasteless food or missed out spices, you have to realise that his job was only to serve and the actual cooking was done by someone back in the kitchen. I always feel this light undervaluing speaks volumes of a person waiting for the bleakest opportunity to show his higher position in society. A cheap trick if you ask me.
No yaar..got loads of work to do...
If the deriding customer at the hotel was one, then another big turn off is all those who feign reasons to stay up late at night in office. Come to office early, walk around cubicles grinning at the ladies, share moments of light humour with your male friends every other minute, check mails and forward them to every single address on your book, visit all those banned sites through the proxies that some distant smart ass friend of yours gave you, and find every other opportunity to waste time. At when it was time for normal people to leave, you act like you were stuck saving the world all day, and it is only now, post office hours, that you have time for your "actual" work. Oh puhleease..! Give me a break.
I hate it all the more when you make sure the boss knows of such tacky tricks, and send out emails to all at weird hours in the day or on Sundays. And the icing comes when the boss is such that he fails to recognise them as a mere attempt to earn a few extra points. Whats with the whole world..!!
Oh no...am not hungry now..
Anybody who knew me real well, would know that I strongly detest people(read 'fellow ladies') who'd serve themselves half a serving of food and one glass of sugarless, iceless, fruitless fruit juice; and then go on to complain about how much they were eating and how little they were hungry. They'd sit through the whole meal, nibbling at the morsels spilt on the plate and rant about them having put on so much weight that their mothers failed to take them in. What's with the publicity gimmick now? And praise the 'man'kind that actually falls prey to such cheap tricks and makes a conversation out of this nothing affair. I'd just let them be there at the corner unattended and the next time they'd make a conversation out of how much they ate and still managed the body slim thin.
Well, these seem to top the list of turn offs, the rest include a variety infact. Range from the good old samaritan who makes sure the streets of India are a scene out of a modern artist's latest creation; to the great music lovers of the country who make sure their mobile phones add the flavour to life irrespective of being at the totally wrong place and scene.
Long live all these irritants, for they give me something to write on every other day..
Tsssk..Tcchh..Take the order man..!!
Any form of discourtesy to waiters and attendants at hotels irks me, for the sheer reason that neither of us chose to be where we are at that very moment. And for all those who shout out at waiters for tasteless food or missed out spices, you have to realise that his job was only to serve and the actual cooking was done by someone back in the kitchen. I always feel this light undervaluing speaks volumes of a person waiting for the bleakest opportunity to show his higher position in society. A cheap trick if you ask me.
No yaar..got loads of work to do...
If the deriding customer at the hotel was one, then another big turn off is all those who feign reasons to stay up late at night in office. Come to office early, walk around cubicles grinning at the ladies, share moments of light humour with your male friends every other minute, check mails and forward them to every single address on your book, visit all those banned sites through the proxies that some distant smart ass friend of yours gave you, and find every other opportunity to waste time. At when it was time for normal people to leave, you act like you were stuck saving the world all day, and it is only now, post office hours, that you have time for your "actual" work. Oh puhleease..! Give me a break.
I hate it all the more when you make sure the boss knows of such tacky tricks, and send out emails to all at weird hours in the day or on Sundays. And the icing comes when the boss is such that he fails to recognise them as a mere attempt to earn a few extra points. Whats with the whole world..!!
Oh no...am not hungry now..
Anybody who knew me real well, would know that I strongly detest people(read 'fellow ladies') who'd serve themselves half a serving of food and one glass of sugarless, iceless, fruitless fruit juice; and then go on to complain about how much they were eating and how little they were hungry. They'd sit through the whole meal, nibbling at the morsels spilt on the plate and rant about them having put on so much weight that their mothers failed to take them in. What's with the publicity gimmick now? And praise the 'man'kind that actually falls prey to such cheap tricks and makes a conversation out of this nothing affair. I'd just let them be there at the corner unattended and the next time they'd make a conversation out of how much they ate and still managed the body slim thin.
Well, these seem to top the list of turn offs, the rest include a variety infact. Range from the good old samaritan who makes sure the streets of India are a scene out of a modern artist's latest creation; to the great music lovers of the country who make sure their mobile phones add the flavour to life irrespective of being at the totally wrong place and scene.
Long live all these irritants, for they give me something to write on every other day..
13 September 2006
Long time man !
It was meant to be a daddy-daughter day out. Both of us had got out early from office for just this (with my ML giving me the weirdest face when i said the guy i was going out was my dad).
And the special occasion - mom was getting back after a whole month and a half and 14 stitches down.
We met five minutes behind schedule and a mere flick of the eyebrow acknowledged the presence of the other. We'd gone through this ordeal the weekend before, with little success. A heavy sigh and both walked into the showroom.
One generation believed that no hifi could beat the good old cassette player, with that bumper offer of a built-in FM, that made sure it worked perfectly well when oriented somewhere between nnw and nww, and all you needed to get it playing again was a good hard slap, to bring it back home like your prodigal son; that all of today's sci fi gadgets were a mere eye wash and nothing worked wonders like the age old spool tape player; might be we should just get that one thatha has and present it to your mom!; It and all its antique values you know...
While the other generation was still mulling over the recent Bose experience, that made all other players look like a tricycle in a mercedes showroom; was still sulking at the inability to afford its 6 digit price tag; was out with a resolve to get something as close to reality as possible and ensure that music filled the whole room..the whole house?..yeah, what the hell..! filled the whole society up!
And a compromise it was when we finally narrowed down to a Sony dz120k,850W RMS(140W*5+140W), with a built-in S-Master Digital Amplifier and the option to play DTS, Dolby Digital, Dolby Pro Logic & Dolby Pro Logic II, DVD-R/+R/+R DL/+RW/-RW/-RW (VR) Playback, CD-R / CD-RW Playback/ J-PEG Playback/ MP3 Playback, DivX Playback, and exorbitantly priced at 15,990/-*.
The disaster could wait till tomorrow, for we were hungry at the end of the whole getting in and out of the finalisation process. We exchanged our niceties with the utterly saccharine salespeople, yes we would surely come back first thing tomorrow morning and get it. Yeah we know your showroom is the best in the neighbourhood and offers the best price for the best Sony all over India. Good Bye..!
Walked straight into a eatery next door. As we ordered our respective Jaipuri Sev Puri and Bhel Puri, it dawned on me that one of the few things that bridged any generation gap was this mundane delicacy, made mostly out of what looks like junk and is aptly called Chat. We stood at a table at the center, surrounded by chairs, all occupied by families eating their hearts out.
Both of us stared into our own nowheres, in our own quest to find those eluding answers. Our thought processes would have been something like,
Him: Damn that guy in Bihar man, else my all India sales would have been up by 30%...and that car, bugging me again as usual...wonder if H will top her class this time too...hmmm and poor narain is getting no visibility at all yaar...and the amma thinks she can telecast crap and get away with...oh gotta get up at 6 tomorrow morning and run to office...if i leave well before 8, am sure i can beat that traffic jam at Uncle's Kitchen...and why the hell did that cheque bounce man..
Me: What an excuse for a home theatre man...we should get all these guys to visit that Bose store once..so they know where they're heading..even their sales guys looked hot right.?? but why is that damned exe not running..with all my F8ing too..!!Will my accepting to Evolv really help.??Hey when was the last time I listened to that real cool song..!Man I wanna get out...Oh tell that fat lady to stop screaming now..I need sleep...loads of it...
At the end of all of that, both of us turned quietly, yet together, to look at the family sitting closest to us. The little daughter wailed into the night, while the mother fed little morsels of food between munching down some for herself. The older one, she was eight or nine, had been a victor in wiping out her plate of bhel completely and was looking greedily at the menu for the next on her list. The father and the mother exchanged intermitten conversations about her father coming over, and him forever complaining about the weather out here..Oh! not that your mother is a big blessing anyway..!! Beta, dont spill your food.
We continued to stare...Daddy can we have ice cream after this, please ??waaoohhaa.!!! Amma why cant we get ice cream after this..?? Oh darn those neighbours..waaahhaaaghhhhh.!! Lets go to Lonavla this weekend na...waaahhh..!!! I want a balloon if not an ice cream...Should we buy a diamond earring instead.?? waaagghhh..!! Whatever you want to buy dear, lets go to Lonavla...Where did you go away last night after sending that courier ??
Me: So when's amma coming?
He: This Friday..
Me: Hmm...Long time right..??
He: Yeah...Long time...
*Inclusive of all taxes
And the special occasion - mom was getting back after a whole month and a half and 14 stitches down.
We met five minutes behind schedule and a mere flick of the eyebrow acknowledged the presence of the other. We'd gone through this ordeal the weekend before, with little success. A heavy sigh and both walked into the showroom.
One generation believed that no hifi could beat the good old cassette player, with that bumper offer of a built-in FM, that made sure it worked perfectly well when oriented somewhere between nnw and nww, and all you needed to get it playing again was a good hard slap, to bring it back home like your prodigal son; that all of today's sci fi gadgets were a mere eye wash and nothing worked wonders like the age old spool tape player; might be we should just get that one thatha has and present it to your mom!; It and all its antique values you know...
While the other generation was still mulling over the recent Bose experience, that made all other players look like a tricycle in a mercedes showroom; was still sulking at the inability to afford its 6 digit price tag; was out with a resolve to get something as close to reality as possible and ensure that music filled the whole room..the whole house?..yeah, what the hell..! filled the whole society up!
And a compromise it was when we finally narrowed down to a Sony dz120k,850W RMS(140W*5+140W), with a built-in S-Master Digital Amplifier and the option to play DTS, Dolby Digital, Dolby Pro Logic & Dolby Pro Logic II, DVD-R/+R/+R DL/+RW/-RW/-RW (VR) Playback, CD-R / CD-RW Playback/ J-PEG Playback/ MP3 Playback, DivX Playback, and exorbitantly priced at 15,990/-*.
The disaster could wait till tomorrow, for we were hungry at the end of the whole getting in and out of the finalisation process. We exchanged our niceties with the utterly saccharine salespeople, yes we would surely come back first thing tomorrow morning and get it. Yeah we know your showroom is the best in the neighbourhood and offers the best price for the best Sony all over India. Good Bye..!
Walked straight into a eatery next door. As we ordered our respective Jaipuri Sev Puri and Bhel Puri, it dawned on me that one of the few things that bridged any generation gap was this mundane delicacy, made mostly out of what looks like junk and is aptly called Chat. We stood at a table at the center, surrounded by chairs, all occupied by families eating their hearts out.
Both of us stared into our own nowheres, in our own quest to find those eluding answers. Our thought processes would have been something like,
Him: Damn that guy in Bihar man, else my all India sales would have been up by 30%...and that car, bugging me again as usual...wonder if H will top her class this time too...hmmm and poor narain is getting no visibility at all yaar...and the amma thinks she can telecast crap and get away with...oh gotta get up at 6 tomorrow morning and run to office...if i leave well before 8, am sure i can beat that traffic jam at Uncle's Kitchen...and why the hell did that cheque bounce man..
Me: What an excuse for a home theatre man...we should get all these guys to visit that Bose store once..so they know where they're heading..even their sales guys looked hot right.?? but why is that damned exe not running..with all my F8ing too..!!Will my accepting to Evolv really help.??Hey when was the last time I listened to that real cool song..!Man I wanna get out...Oh tell that fat lady to stop screaming now..I need sleep...loads of it...
At the end of all of that, both of us turned quietly, yet together, to look at the family sitting closest to us. The little daughter wailed into the night, while the mother fed little morsels of food between munching down some for herself. The older one, she was eight or nine, had been a victor in wiping out her plate of bhel completely and was looking greedily at the menu for the next on her list. The father and the mother exchanged intermitten conversations about her father coming over, and him forever complaining about the weather out here..Oh! not that your mother is a big blessing anyway..!! Beta, dont spill your food.
We continued to stare...Daddy can we have ice cream after this, please ??waaoohhaa.!!! Amma why cant we get ice cream after this..?? Oh darn those neighbours..waaahhaaaghhhhh.!! Lets go to Lonavla this weekend na...waaahhh..!!! I want a balloon if not an ice cream...Should we buy a diamond earring instead.?? waaagghhh..!! Whatever you want to buy dear, lets go to Lonavla...Where did you go away last night after sending that courier ??
Me: So when's amma coming?
He: This Friday..
Me: Hmm...Long time right..??
He: Yeah...Long time...
*Inclusive of all taxes
11 August 2006
Goad's own cundry !
Have heard them over and over. And it has become a second language now, with twenty odd years flooded by acquaintances with a similiar tongue walking in and leaving an impression. I dont remember when the initiation really happened. But the Mallu english does not bother me any longer. Most of the times, I barely note the difference. Quite similar to the Western American drawl or the Engligh polishness to the language having become a part of the everyday corporate lifestyle.
The oldest memory of the accent striking a mark was in school.
Dhe egzpanzion of dhe gayses in dhe bodle, coses dhe volyoom of dhe cundainer to be debled. Dhe sayme would happen if dhere was ya ligwid in dhe bodle.
The first time I heard that, I feared Chemistry would remain a mystery all my life. Unfortunately for the antagonists, that was not to be, and I eventually managed to put the Mallu ears on. So much was I atune to it, that when that same teacher, Ms Indira, I remember, asked me in a more lighter mood, 'des my Ohful mellu agsent bodher you yin underrstaynding Volyumedric Analysis?', I was quick to nod a stiff No.
Then it was the frequent visits to neighbouring Guruvayoor and Trissur vadakkunaathar, that ensured that the prodding 'marikko marikko' and 'nadakkatte' were as much a part of the dictionary as the typical tamilian 'vazhi vazhi'. 'Pazhampuri' and 'Puttu kari' were as much a delicacy as 'pathirpeni' or 'kuzhi paniyaram', thanks to the mallu tongue that stuck along for good. And who can forget the lazy afternoons at home, with Mohanlal in Baratham or His Highness Abdullah and some coconut stuffed 'unni appam' ?
The oneness with the neighbours was one of the reasons why classmates in High school, with bredders in dubei, and sisters werking in cole cendres were ones that really stuck for days to come. That one was a real test to my mallu know how though...A Cherian at school came up and flaunted her cuzzin sister. 'Oh no! note the doter of the ungle who werks in de coal fields. Its dat wun who fayled toice in cat last ear. She's joined a cole cender and yearns twendy dhousand a menth. I spent a day contemplating my chances of moving over to Kolar to make a quick buck, before I found out the coal cender was in Gurgaon instead.
None of this abridged or conveniently transformed version of the Queen's language could deter me from enjoying the onam saddi and the janda vadyam; we always celebrated vishu kani and made the pookolam. Goddess wore as much of the mundu as the madisaaru on festivals.
And thats why it was no big surprise to find an adipoli mallus union in coaledge as well. The agsent was obviously masked under a whole lot of coconut ego and lungi vanity. But who cares ? The tambis and the kandoos and the ghatis and bhaiyaas had their own smells and sounds too. And who said anyone was perfect !
Today, despite being in a global IT company, with a clientele spread across the globe, when I hear the local announcement system blaring, 'ol embloyees who wish to tayk dhe ohfis bes to anushekdhi neger, pleaz proceed to dhe baysment', in an english unmistakably overflowing with mallu, I simbly smile and remember Goad's own cundry !
PS: If this whole thing made only half the intended sense to you, you surely have missed a lot in life !
12 July 2006
The blasts..
It has happened once again...It had in the past..and now a repeat..for many it was a deja vu...For all those who've lived through the serial blasts in '93..all those who survived the floods on 26/7....This was a repeat...a chill that run through their veins...bringing back home the point that they weren't that mighty after all...
The ones dead at the end of a tragedy were still the luckier ones..For the rest have to live through the trauma of waking up each night having been blown apart all over again...Watching themselves live the life of a defective...The dead are better in more sense than one in this case.
Moreover, to be helpless and watch all the scene unravel infront of your eyes is a bigger trauma than to be there...All of us have that urge in us to get out and do something when we watch injustice rule around us...But very few can let the frustration within us find a vent...Very few can really make a difference..There are a few,like me, who had to depend on their more mobile counterparts to inform them that the bomb scene was as close as a few kilometres away from them...That bombed a second time in the deep hollows of the heart...
I left for home earlier than usual, because of a concerned company that wanted to make sure that their labourers were not compromised in such acts of terrorism..True many were dying out there..but the little we can do for the safety of our employees, we shall make sure its done...they said...This humane endeavor saw me stuffed into a cab with many others of my kind...as we rode the city, ensurig we'd reached home one after another...
It is a fit of fate or what you may call...But I seem to complain the least about being the last one to reach home always...There I sat that day, riding to another colleague's home, when a huge traffic snarl waited ahead of us..All we could see ahead of us was a sea of bumper lights and the Mumbaikar's patience of waiting at a jam for hours without a single sign of complaint...I sometimes wonder if they ever knew where the existence of a horn in their vehicles...Not that it made any difference though...Smart I should say...
We seemed to move at a snail's pace...with cars and truckers acting like carts...Life seemed to stand still...move backwards at some moments...And then I saw it happen...He looked like he had returned from from his evening prayers...I'd seen him before...The typical cap and long trailing robe..that has been, more often than not,misused in today's movies to signify the quiet bomber, who lives amidst us, manufactures destructives like they were biscuits and throws them around like farmer and his manure...I couldnot mistake him for sure..It had to be a terrorist and he was running towards us..with great agility..and a valor i saw in those eyes...
News had beamed all morning about grenade attacks in Jammu...Innocent unsuspecting tourists brought down by pieces of scientific innovation that ensured that your family remembered you for good...Quick memories of mine lashed through my mind...Distant thoughts of friends from school and college ran past...the face of my dear computer science teacher laughed at me mockingly....
Through all of this the man had almost reached my window...I turned to my driver, in search of someone who would share a similar fear...foolish..like looking away would make matters easier.!!I should listen to people when they say i needed to grow up...This was it...I saw the end...I would be blown apart too...If only I had insisted that I wanted to go home first.!! If only i hadnt left office at all...It felt like heaven now...in the final moments of my life...and...
Mam...please have some water...long traffic jam...will get late...the bomb blast you know..everybody is scared...and tired...here..some parle g for you...
What...? I turned to the face that had mouthed it...It was the same bomber...He pushed a dirty Bisleri bottle into my hand..the other held a huge plate overflowing with biscuits...In a state of shocked, I nodded a No Thanks...he vanished as quickly as he had appeared...I quietly watched him in my rear view...as he moved from one stalled vehicle to another...offerred his treasure..and moved on...
I looked ahead and saw many more...there were older ones on the divider who ensured that these delivery boys were stacked all the time...And these little angels ran to every new vehicle that inched forward..and gave their bit of service...I was more ashamed of myself than shocked...A thought that hit me for long was the smile they left on the faces as they moved on...
At that stretch in time, we all might have been sharing the same feeling of insecurity...a thought of doom would have run through all our minds..Yet a few decided to let their fears rest and make sure they made a difference to someone's life...Kudos to them for their presence of mind...Cheers to the sense of brotherhood that still exists amidst us....
The ones dead at the end of a tragedy were still the luckier ones..For the rest have to live through the trauma of waking up each night having been blown apart all over again...Watching themselves live the life of a defective...The dead are better in more sense than one in this case.
Moreover, to be helpless and watch all the scene unravel infront of your eyes is a bigger trauma than to be there...All of us have that urge in us to get out and do something when we watch injustice rule around us...But very few can let the frustration within us find a vent...Very few can really make a difference..There are a few,like me, who had to depend on their more mobile counterparts to inform them that the bomb scene was as close as a few kilometres away from them...That bombed a second time in the deep hollows of the heart...
I left for home earlier than usual, because of a concerned company that wanted to make sure that their labourers were not compromised in such acts of terrorism..True many were dying out there..but the little we can do for the safety of our employees, we shall make sure its done...they said...This humane endeavor saw me stuffed into a cab with many others of my kind...as we rode the city, ensurig we'd reached home one after another...
It is a fit of fate or what you may call...But I seem to complain the least about being the last one to reach home always...There I sat that day, riding to another colleague's home, when a huge traffic snarl waited ahead of us..All we could see ahead of us was a sea of bumper lights and the Mumbaikar's patience of waiting at a jam for hours without a single sign of complaint...I sometimes wonder if they ever knew where the existence of a horn in their vehicles...Not that it made any difference though...Smart I should say...
We seemed to move at a snail's pace...with cars and truckers acting like carts...Life seemed to stand still...move backwards at some moments...And then I saw it happen...He looked like he had returned from from his evening prayers...I'd seen him before...The typical cap and long trailing robe..that has been, more often than not,misused in today's movies to signify the quiet bomber, who lives amidst us, manufactures destructives like they were biscuits and throws them around like farmer and his manure...I couldnot mistake him for sure..It had to be a terrorist and he was running towards us..with great agility..and a valor i saw in those eyes...
News had beamed all morning about grenade attacks in Jammu...Innocent unsuspecting tourists brought down by pieces of scientific innovation that ensured that your family remembered you for good...Quick memories of mine lashed through my mind...Distant thoughts of friends from school and college ran past...the face of my dear computer science teacher laughed at me mockingly....
Through all of this the man had almost reached my window...I turned to my driver, in search of someone who would share a similar fear...foolish..like looking away would make matters easier.!!I should listen to people when they say i needed to grow up...This was it...I saw the end...I would be blown apart too...If only I had insisted that I wanted to go home first.!! If only i hadnt left office at all...It felt like heaven now...in the final moments of my life...and...
Mam...please have some water...long traffic jam...will get late...the bomb blast you know..everybody is scared...and tired...here..some parle g for you...
What...? I turned to the face that had mouthed it...It was the same bomber...He pushed a dirty Bisleri bottle into my hand..the other held a huge plate overflowing with biscuits...In a state of shocked, I nodded a No Thanks...he vanished as quickly as he had appeared...I quietly watched him in my rear view...as he moved from one stalled vehicle to another...offerred his treasure..and moved on...
I looked ahead and saw many more...there were older ones on the divider who ensured that these delivery boys were stacked all the time...And these little angels ran to every new vehicle that inched forward..and gave their bit of service...I was more ashamed of myself than shocked...A thought that hit me for long was the smile they left on the faces as they moved on...
At that stretch in time, we all might have been sharing the same feeling of insecurity...a thought of doom would have run through all our minds..Yet a few decided to let their fears rest and make sure they made a difference to someone's life...Kudos to them for their presence of mind...Cheers to the sense of brotherhood that still exists amidst us....
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