Monday, September 06, 2004

For Four Hours Only

The slippers were very irritating. The dusts and spits of water from the road formed miniature, muddy and uncomfortable puddles in the slipper’s undulations.

A beggar sat cross-legged by the roadside. His feet were covered in a funeral blanket. His eyes stared unfalteringly at a distant arbitrary object. His hands moved in a systematic and rhythmic motion; the ends of the cymbals hitting each other in perfect synchronization. I passed him nonchalantly.

Weighing machines, sleeping kids, the stolen watches vendor, the trinket seller all set themselves in a manner organized to cause the maximum hindrance to pedestrians. As if the jagged rocks, bricks and man-holes scattered all over the pavement were not enough.

Shuffling feet, heavy breathing, sweltering faces; they all gave me a second look as I passed. Their eyes shone with fear and hunger. I tried to ignore it but I couldn’t. A young boy of about six ran and grasped my trouser leg with all he was worth. I resisted the temptation to kick him and pushed him away as gently as possible. The child ran off to hide behind a fruit-juice stand. A few black patches of dirt now covered my otherwise sparkling white trouser right where that kid had held me. I cursed the little beggar boy.
Dodging the heavy rush hour traffic near, Suicide Alley, I managed to barge into Kumars’ sweet shop. The singeing sun, the reckless drivers and the obstacle course I had just completed had made me unbearably thirsty. I ordered a mango shake.

I sat by the window allowing my eyes to observe. Then they fell to rest on that young beggar boy. He was being beaten by his mother. “Bainchod, bas itna paisa laya aaj?” She screamed at him. The boy retreated, tears rolling down his dark cheek. Without waiting for the milk shake I walked out of the shop.

I headed back towards school not really knowing what to think; only aware that I should have a profound thought. I was deep in introspection and retrospection and all those other big-words when suddenly a hand fell on my shoulder. I turned to find Hamid. I wasn’t particularly fond of him. I wanted to shout at him, probably say an obscene word or two, but before I could, he flashed two tickets for the latest movie, waving it in front of my face. I literally fell at his feet and grabbed his leg.

The incidents of the day well forgotten, I became his best friend for the next four hours...

Monday, June 21, 2004

How To Maintain A Healthy Level of Insanity

1. Sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.

2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.

3. Every time someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.

4. Put your garbage can on your desk and label it "in".

5. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over their caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.

6. In the memo field of all your checks, write "for sexual favours".

7. Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy."

8. Dont use any punctuation marks.

9. As often as possible, skip rather than walk.

10. Ask people what sex they are. Laugh hysterically after they answer.

11. Specify that your drive-through order is "to go".

12. Sing along at the opera.

13. Go to a poetry recital and ask why the poems don't rhyme.

14. Put mosquito netting around your work area. Play a tape of jungle sounds all day.

15. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their party because you're not in the mood.

16. Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name, Rock Hard.

17. When the money comes out the ATM, scream, "I won! "I won!" "3rd time this week!!!!!"

18. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot, yelling, "run for your lives, they're loose!!"

19. Tell your children over dinner. "Due to the economy, we are going to have to let one of you go."

21. Pee into bottles and then empty them into the pot.

22. Jump out of ATMs/Public Bathrooms naked and say "don't go in there".

23. When someone pulls out his hand to shake yours, try and dodge it, Matrix style.

24. When someone wishes you, sneer viscously and say "fools, you're all gonna die" and walk away laughing hysterically.

25. When someone says "dude, I haven't seen you for sometime", claim that you were in "stealth mode" or hug him/her and say "it's all over between us".

26. Wear a bow tie with your T-Shirt. (Is that too gay?)

27. Walk around with a blunt sword.

Monday, May 24, 2004

Raju Be Happy

Nana Pillai’s only son Raju was studying in the United States, at Franklin and Marshall. He wasn’t offered a scholarship when he had gone, but Raju had assured his dad that he was a cinch to get a full tuition grant by his sophomore year. With that hope (and a bit a pressure from his wife), Nana pumped all he could into his son’s education. Raju had left for the US as the devoted son, with eyes that said, “I’ll do you proud” as he touched his father’s feet at the airport.

Three years had passed and Raju had not even received a partial scholarship. Nana’s bank balance was depleted. Savitri, his wife, had succumbed to terminal cancer. She could have been saved, he knew it, but it would take away the very last penny they had. That would be the end of Raju’s education. Savitri wouldn’t want that, would she? Nana’s wife died happy. Her mission on earth was complete. Her little Raju was a man now!

Nana didn’t inform Raju about his mother’s death. He didn’t want to disturb his son’s happiness. He was happy, wasn’t he? After all, those initial loving, home sick letters, longing for his mother’s cooking had stopped a long time ago. They were now replaced by short and curt demands for more money, each time outlined by some excuse. Nana, however, was not one to ask questions. He duly obliged, sending words of caution and advice, but he never complained…

Times were hard. The Pillai family home had been sold. His factory was sick and he had absolutely no security. Yesterday, Nana had received another telegram from Raju. Raju always used the post. The telephone was too expensive, he said, and they had to be economical. Raju needed money and he needed it quickly.

Friday, the 26th, three days after Raju’s telegram, Nana and his dilapidated scooter were found eighty-three feet below Bandel Bridge. The police report said that Nana, blinded by an oncoming truck’s headlamps, had lost control and smashed through the guard railing. The scooter’s petrol tank had burst, charring what was left of Nana’s mutilated body. Nana’s life insurance company, after a lot of debate with Nana’s lawyers, reluctantly handed over one hundred and thirteen thousand rupees to Raju Pillai’s account.

It was a sacrifice worth the Pillai name. A sacrifice for that little Raju who used to say, “When I grow up, I’ll buy you a big car daddy.” And Nana would say, ruffling his hair, “I know son, I know.” All Nana knew as he drove his scooter off the bridge was that he could not fail Raju.
A few days later, seven thousand kilometers away, Raju Pillai died of a cocaine overdose.

Sunday, May 16, 2004

The Crucifiction of Scooby Doo

Recently I had the pleasure of visiting Delhi running an errand for my father.
11:00 pm I am on the AC deluxe night bus to Delhi, with a drunk guy sitting next to me."wanna know why I'm drunk" he drawls, showering me with stray drops of alcohol that he had not swallowed and clouding the immediate vicinity with the stench of booze... "My son, he flunked his CBSE hahahahaha, so I'm going to Delhi to fuck him!" (of course the entire conversation transpired in Hindi.)
2:00 am Still on the bus, freezing cold because of the AC but I manage to fall asleep by covering myself with a towel. (now I know why Douglas Adams said never leave home without a towel.)
2:10 am Rudely awakened by some noise. I find that some dude has started an arguement with the conductor. He wanted the AC to be put off, but the conductor was arguing that the bus would have to be stopped for that and it would spoil the AC if he kept putting it on and off. the bugger got pissed off and started abusing the conductor. The conductor abused back and naturally a fight broke out. At Midway Hotel (midway between Delhi-Dehra Dun as the name implies), some of the passengers throw the conductor off the bus. The conductor agrees to acquiesce (go SAT word list!) for the rest of the trip...
5:30 am The bus drops me off at Lal Quila. i have no idea what to do...
5:45 am I reach Amit Chandra's flat (formerly Tanaya's flat) in Indravihar. i knock on the door till 6:00 am. No response.
6:00 am I fall asleep outside the flat.
7:00 am I decide it's too uncomfortable and go to college. Fall asleep under the Buddha statue in University lawns with some guys practising karate nearby and the whole world out on a morning walk looking at me as if I was a freak show (no smart comment on this please)
9:00 am Wake up...lawns are empty. I walk to Mukh East and see fancy tiled toilets and showers...take a crap and a shower...didn't have a brush...
10:00 am I meet Wilson in main corr. I smile at him.
10:10 am Out on the work I was meant to do.
11:45 am work done. Sit at Cafe Coffee Day watching music videos with Uttam Mukherjee (I Chem) and his girlfriend. eat breakfast.
12:50 pm In CP booking tickets for the journey back home. Go window shopping in CP, piss off shopkeepers.
2:30 pm In PVR Naraina (stoned) watching "The Passion Of The Christ". There were some deaf people who had come too. I didn't know then that the entire movie was in Hebrew with subtitles. In the end they distributed "Love Jesus, Love God" booklets and left. I went to watch Scooby Doo 2.
7:00 pm back in CP. got stuck in dirty Delhi rain, had a subway dinner while reading MAD. Chatted up some arbit tourist who had just visited Doon (I was carrying a Doon School bag with me.)
9:00 pm on the bus back home.
10:00 pm the conductor tells me the bus is going to Nainital, not Dehra Dun. i panic. Don't worry he tells me, I'll put u in another bus.
11:00 pm I wait for the "another bus" to come in the rain at Fatehpuri.
11:30 pm bus comes. I fall asleep.
6:30 am I reach home.
I love this world....

Thursday, May 13, 2004

The River

The shadow of the thick-leaved tree seemed to float on the rays of the smooth and intense light of the morning sun. It sailed past the open meadow, over the jagged rocks and finally rolled down to the River where it broke into a thousand glimmering wavelets.

The River was always mysteriously beautiful. Calm, with small ripples and undulations, yet deadly and forbidding.

No one crossed the river, for fear of the other side. The woods were dark and deep there. The sun could not penetrate through the gigantic evergreens. They say the woods hide riches. Riches, beyond our wildest dreams, but there was no path to it. The river ate the path years ago.

The River. One now said that name with a God-like reverence. It had no name. It never required one. God doesn't need one. The water was sweet and had a flavour that could tantalize even the most morose of men. Its cleanliness rivaled by nothing in this world. Its power, its might, raised its ego. It was not the sustenance of life. It was life.

The river and its two banks have existed for eternity, its diversions caused by human intervention. It still marks the light and darkness. A few foolish, greedy yet courageous men ventured to step into these waters to cross over. They succeeded, but no one knows if they found gold, for they never returned.

This balance will always remain.
There is life and there is death.
There are things understood and things left misunderstood.
And in between them all runs the River.
This is how creation works.
This is how God works.

Wednesday, January 07, 2004

Bart Simpson's Lessons

A burp is not an answer.
All work and no play makes Bart a dull boy.
Bart Bucks are not legal tender.
Coffee is not for kids.
Five days is not too long to wait for a gun.
Funny noises are not funny.
Garlic gum is not funny.
Goldfish don't bounce.
High explosives and school don't mix.
I am not a 32 year old woman.
I am not a dentist.
I am not authorized to fire substitute teachers.
I am not deliciously saucy.
I did not see Elvis.
I do not have diplomatic immunity.
I saw nothing unusual in the teacher's lounge.
I will finish what I sta
I will never win an emmy.
I will not aim for the head.
I will not barf unless I'm sick.
I will not belch the National Anthem.
I will not bribe Principal Skinner.
I will not bring sheep to class.
I will not burp in class.
I will not bury the new kid.
I will not call my teacher Hot Cakes.
I will not call the principal Spud Head.
I will not carve gods.
I will not celebrate meaningless milestones.
I will not charge admission to the bathroom.
I will not conduct my own fire drills.
I will not cut corners.
I will not defame New Orleans.
I will not do anything bad ever again.
I will not do that thing with my tongue.
I will not draw naked ladies in class.
I will not drive the principal's car.
I will not eat things for money.
I will not encourage others to fly.
I will not expose the ignorance of the faculty.
I will not fake my way through life.
I will not fake seizures.
I will not get very far with this attitude.
I will not go near the kindergarten turtle.
I will not grease the monkey bars.
I will not hide behind the Fifth Amendment.
I will not instigate revolution.
I will not pledge allegiance to Bart.
I will not prescribe medication.
I will not re-transmit without the express permission of Major League Baseball.
I will not say Springfield just to get applause.
I will not sell land in Florida.
I will not sell miracle cures.
I will not sell school property.
I will not show off.
I will not skateboard in the halls.
I will not sleep through my education.
I will not snap bras.
I will not spank others.
I will not squeak chalk.
I will not teach others to fly.
I will not torment the emotionally frail.
I will not trade pants with others.
I will not waste chalk.
I will not Xerox my butt.
I will not yell Fire in a crowded classroom.
I will not yell She's Dead at roll call.
I will return the seeing-eye dog.
It's potato, not potatoe.
Mud is not one of the 4 food groups.
My homework was not stolen by a one-armed man.
My name is not Dr. Death.
No one is interested in my underpants.
Nobody likes sunburn slappers.
Organ transplants are best left to professionals.
Spitwads are not free speech.
Tar is not a plaything.
Teacher is not a leper.
The cafeteria deep fryer is not a toy.
The Christmas Pageant does not stink.
The Pledge of Allegiance does not end with Hail Satan.
The principal's toupee is not a Frisbee.
There are plenty of businesses like show business.
They are laughing at me, not with me.
This punishment is not boring and pointless. Underwear should be worn on the inside.