An Orchestra of Villains!

With the departure of Smriti to Delhi, we decided to shift residence to a place nearer my office.

The duplex bungalow we resided at so far was now too big for our needs. When on tour, I remained worried about Rani’s safety. A thief could lurk anywhere. A robber could force entry through any of the four doors. The locality had lost its rustic charm with the appearance of residential apartments all around. I already hated the raddiwalla shop at the head of the lane, and the emergence of a meat shop on the approach road had turned the matter worse. The final nail was driven in the coffin with three tyre punctures within a span of forty-five days or so.

The flat we moved into is part of an apartment. It has power back up, security, and other such small comforts. Smriti and Anupam liked it, and Rani, in spite of rejecting it initially, accepted it later. Some of the furniture – an almirah, a writing desk, a cabinet, etc., could not be accommodated and had to be sold off.

 
The commuting time has been shortened by one complete hour! The place is safer. We have a neighbour to whom Rani can talk. The market is nearby.

However, one cannot have everything good in life! The place has a major drawback. It is next to a traffic junction. There are speed breakers on two major sides of the junction. Vehicles coming near to the junction apply brake, speed up, realise that another side also has a speed breaker, apply brake again, accelerate and zoom ahead. In the dead of the night the sound is enough to rudely wake you up, and keep you awake.

It appears that jackals or some similar animals infiltrate into the area when it is dark. The dogs object, and a howling, barking and shrieking campaign starts. The cacophony continues till somebody warns the dogs with a “heh”!

A stray bull also appears to have liked the area for its nocturnal pursuits. While taking the round at about 2 PM, it makes a typical sound as only bulls can make.

The sum result is that I keep awake most of the nights listening to the orchestra of bull as the lead singer, the dogs as the chorus, and the sound of the vehicles as the accompanying music.

Day before yesterday I decided to sleep in the other room. Repeated the act yesterday. The room is definitely less noisy, but the bed is too small to accommodate two persons!

Let’s see what happens tonight!

The Mysterious Smile

Airports have a unique personality. Artificially warm voices, zombies as security personnel, rows of chairs receiving multiple bums within a matter of minutes, highly priced insipid food, and passengers lost in themselves.

My flight was getting delayed. I sat in the chair, looked around for friendly faces, tried to read a novel, stared at banners, played with the handle of my bag, and got bored.

I decided to have a glass of water. After a brief walk and a trip to the urinal, I found that a woman had occupied the chair next to the one on which I had been sitting. I felt a little awkward, but that was the only vacant chair available. I occupied the chair, careful not to cause a brush with the lady.

Settled finally, I looked around, avoiding the lady. My gaze stopped at a man who looked at me with a glint of mischief. His lips betrayed a smile. He nodded at me.

It was an embarrassing moment. Perhaps the lady next to me was a celebrity and I had violated her personal space by sitting so close to her. But if the lady was offended, she did not express so. Reassured, I leafed through the novel, stared at banners, played with the handle of my bag, and got bored again.

I looked around, and the gentleman again caught my eyes. He nodded, with a hint of a smile. I nodded back, trying to place him in my memory. I was sure that I had not met him earlier, but then I could be wrong as well.

At the announcement of a departure call, the gentleman got up, and stood in the queue. He was behind a large man.

Not talking to anyone, he was still nodding.

A Trip To Gokarna

We had a short trip to Gokarna last week. Travelling in the sleeper bus with all limbs intact was quite a challenge. We were told that it would be a Volvo air-conditioned bus, but it turned out to be a non-Volvo non-air-conditioned bus from Bangalore to Gokarna, an eleven hour journey. As the bus sped, blood rushed to the head. We tried sleeping in the opposite direction, and blood appeared to drain out. Funnily, it was a double bed kind of arrangement, and we had to sleep together. As the bus negotiated bends, we rolled towards either the window or the aisle. As the bus made an immediate correction, we rolled back.

We took an autorickshaw for Rs.100 for a six kilometre journey to the top of the Kudle beach. Steps were cut into the rock to reach the beach. We walked down. It was easy to find the hotel, Gokarna International Beach Resort. A glass of tea later, we walked up again and went to the Om beach. Rather than looking like an 'Om', the beach resembles the backside of a human being engaged in the act of defecation in the traditional Indian style. We walked on the almost barren beach, and then found our way to a shack for a bottle of beer and Israeli Salad. As we admired the thick black gecko lodged at top of the wooden ceiling; Joshua, his sister and mother strolled in. They were our immediate neighbours two years ago. We never exchanged pleasantries earlier, and we did not exchange pleasantries here as well.

We took an autorickshaw to go to Gokarna village, famous for its temples. Rani visited the temples. I strolled around. A South Indian meal later, we returned to the hotel through the auto-step route. It was 2 PM. We slept till 5.30 PM and then went out to the beach, but not before stumbling upon Joshua's mother. The dinner of soup (chicken momo soup for Rani, chicken noodle soup for me) and sizzler (chicken sizzler for Rani and prawn sizzler for me) was the best we have eaten so far. We decided to have our lunch at the same joint, Munchies, the next day.

The next morning we walked to the other end of Kudle beach, and then climbed up. We found our way to the top of the hill, and saw a temple a few kilometres away. The temple is in urgent need of repairs and is closed. Steps go down to a natural spring. The water here is supposed to have medicinal properties. We sprinkled some water on ourselves, and walked further to arrive at the Gokarna beach. We walked further to enter the town, and found ourselves at the same temple which Rani visited yesterday.

We walked back, reached the hotel, had shower, and were back at Munchies. Today it was chicken momo soup for both of us, with grilled chicken for Rani and grilled prawn for me.

We did not engage an auto on our return. We just climbed up the hill and came down towards the Gokarna beach side. The bus started from near the temple. We were close to my office at 6 in the morning. We walked three kilometers to reach home.

Anna Karenina

“Have you read Anna Karenina?”

“No”, came the reply in barely audible voice. The dusky beauty was too shy to look at me.

“Oh!” I did not know what to say next.

I was meeting her for the first time. My parents had met her once before.

Her parents were a little apologetic on the first meeting.

“Hamari ladki thodi kaali hai” (our daughter is a little dark), they are supposed to have said.

My parents, in response, assured that the colour of skin did not matter to them.

The final decision, however, lay in my hands.

So, this was a very important meeting. If I agreed, I would have to marry the girl and live with her forever. If I decided otherwise, I would have to forget her forever. This, of course, was assuming that she and her family would approve of me.

Mummy, Daddy, Didi and her two young children sat next to me. Her parents, two sisters and a brother were with her. Most of the time everybody sat in the room, looking at each other, trying to make small conversation. Stealing a glance at her was very difficult. I adopted the trick of talking to persons sitting diagonally across. This way I could enjoy a fleeting glance of her every time I shifted my attention from one person to the other. There were times I could see her looking at me. Whenever our eyes met, I could feel her talking to me in a silent language.

Finally, I was coaxed to talk to her. However, her plain “no” blocked chances of further conversation. Mummy, Didi and Daddy tried speaking to her, and she replied in mono-syllables. Whenever she spoke something, I became super attentive to catch her every word.

She had a good voice.

And she was beautiful.

We were invited for snacks. For a brief moment I managed to stand next to her. There was no clumsiness in the way she ate.

Back home, my parents asked my views about her. I was too shy to say anything for sometime, but later announced my decision.

She became my wife. That was twenty five years ago.

She has turned out to be a stronger person than I am. And a better person. More forgiving. More loving. More caring. Happier. Loving the good things in life.

I liked her twenty five years ago. I started loving her soon after. Today, I cannot think of life without her.

I love you, Rani!

The First Board

What is a board?

I expect you to be over nine years of age, and still wondering what a board could mean. Do I mean a piece of timber? Food or meals (room and board), perhaps? A vertical surface on which information can be displayed for public view? A table? An electric switchboard? A platform for playing certain kinds of games? After all, what could a board mean?

If you, in spite of all your wisdom, cannot decide what a board is, how can a nine year old child imagine its correct meaning.

I am talking about myself. We lived in Kolkata. I went to a government school. It was my fourth school. Arriving from Varanasi in September, I had joined Class Four almost at the end of the January – December session. The syllabus was quite different, but being a good student I was somehow managing.

One day, as the class was on, an important looking man came and announced something. I did not understand a word, but perhaps the other students did, and an “Aaaah” went up in the air.

I asked my friends what the Aah was all about. They explained that we would have our board from the next week or so.

Okay, so be it, I thought and went home. By the time I walked the one kilometre or so to home, I had forgotten all about it. It was only in the night at dinner that I remembered the important announcement.

“Mummy, we have the board from the next week”, I said, chewing between words.

Mummy reacted as if she had touched a live wire. “Board?” “Next week?” “Are you sure?”

I felt sorry about putting her to so much of discomfort. Without knowing what the word meant, just to comfort her, I said, “Don’t worry! Waisa board nahin hai.”

“What do you mean waisa board nahin hai? What kind of board is that? Today is Thursday night. You are saying next week. Oh my God!”

By now I was sure that Board was something very bad, and it would perhaps have been better had I not disclosed the news to her. However, there was little I could do now.

I looked at her, and slowly went to bed. Later in the night I heard voices. Daddy had returned from office and was having dinner. Mummy was telling him, “Agle haftey se Happu ka board ka exam hai. Usko kuchh bhi nahin pata. Date-sheet kya hai, admit card kahan hai, kuchh bhi nahin janta.”

Oh, so I was going to have my exams in another few days, I thought. The next day, from the classroom, I saw Mummy enter the school office. She waited for the school to be over and then we walked back together. She was carrying my admit card and the examination schedule. I looked at her from the corner of my eyes. She was not angry. She was not unhappy, either. Whatever the “Board” was, it was not due to any misdemeanour from my side, I decided. I grasped her hand lovingly, and started walking happily.

Childhood Musings

Anupam, Smriti, and I, all three of us were quite vociferous in our childhood. Some of us created songs, some wrote poetry, and some created dialogues even before entering the school.

Sample this:

Poetry

It is a long one, describing the saga of a king, his queen, pages, etc. The poem began thus:

Ek Tha Raja, Oh Oh Oh!
Ek Thee Rani, Oh Oh Oh!

The verse had a somewhat tragic end, which I recall as below:

Rani Mar Gayee,
Dasee Bhaag Gayee!

Dialogue

It was a result of imagination on how different members of the family would react to the same situation.

The situation was quite simple.

The main door is locked. It is night. There is no power. Knocks on the door are not resulting in desired response. The visitor has no option but to cry out for help.

Visitor One (heavy, authoritative voice): Darwaaaaza Kholo! Hum Paaapaaa Hain!

Visitor Two (sweet voice): Mami! O Mami! Darwaza Kholo! Hum Mummy Hain!

Visitor Three (a sing-song voice): Mamiiiiii! O-o-o Mamiiiiiii! Hum Kaise Aa Paate Hain! Dalwaaja Bun(d) Hai!

Song

This song was created impromptu after the genius observed a steam engine entering a railway station. The first line ended on a high note, the second one on a level note, the third one on a low note, and the fourth one rhymed with the sound of the steam engine. Usually the song was sung with a stick in the hand of the composer, who used to hit the nearest object to lay emphasis on the words in the last line.

Injun (Engine) Ke (Ki) Siti
Injun Ke Dainda (Danda, the bar affixed on the wheels)
Injun Ke Paiyya (Pahiya)
Tik! Tik! Tik!

Weird Thoughts

I am indisposed for the last three days. Hints of body ache, lack of stamina, and bouts of shiver once or twice a day sum up the symptoms.

Nothing serious.

Luckily the last two days were holidays. I took rest. Perhaps too much of it. It was difficult to sleep at night. I battled with weird thoughts, and finally succumbed to them. Suppose I die of this seemingly simple illness. I am sure, my wife will be able to manage. Rather than her being defeated by circumstances, I have seen her emerging victorious from most of them. My son is more matured than I am, and will be able to handle the situation tactfully. My daughter will be able to continue her education, thanks to some unselfish support from her brother.

So, I can die in peace.

I lived a very ordinary life. A selfish life. I do not think I did unqualified favours to anyone. No eye needs to be wet when I kick the bucket. And no good deeds need to be deferred in my memory.

Sometimes I feel that though I could not do wonders in the present life, I will try and help people as a ghost! A true defeatist.
Finally, sleep overcame thoughts. I got up the next day, alive.