paper boat dreams

Do I come with a Guarantee Card of some sort? no right! but our folks do create a long decorated piece of beautifully written paper with hell lot of calculations of positions of stars and all heavenly influences that will govern all my life(sigh); all my life in a piece of paper. I should not be mocking the greatness of astrology BUT I AM NOT SURE IF IT WILL WORK AS THEY SAY, my seasons do change but if you ask me how, I may have answers none.

I am intoxicated in this strange good mood by a happy feeling. Something creeping in my head. It must be this crazy song playing....

I’m just average, common too
I’m just like him, the same as you
I’m everybody’s brother and son
I ain’t different from anyone
It ain’t no use a-talking to me
It’s just the same as talking to you

I am common too and I am average too. Why should I think one should always have a degree in Law; I want to. Its good to know what laws we make and follow while I keep aside what law comes naturally to me. There are different more things I want to be, do and become in time. There shall be one tallest mountain in any continent I must climb; one of the seven summits. Once on top; from there I shall jump into a para glide or a sky drive. The Himalayas are fascinating 'scapes, I would love to ride my cycle bike across these heights. Even hot air balloon would give nice aerial views. Or even fly a plane for I always wanted to fly one.

The desert is good, one strange musical instrument I must learn and play it while sitting on sand as a setting desert Sun stares at me. If I can I will get on a tree top, sit there under the starry sky while the game runs across the great expands of Serengeti. Fly a large kite on the flats in Kuch and drive a speedy in Utah salts. Yes, I like driving car more than a motorbike; strange it is not. One car rally across the country I do desire in life. Cross over from India in to China I guess!

Hike up a river from where it meets the sea to where it began flowing is ultimate adventure. As a kid on many rainy days I dropped so many paper boats in the drain hoping it will make it to the sea one day. The sea is one other place so continuous and so wide. Surfing is a good sport I should try and do a deep sea drive. I should even try to canoe across a strait in Sea. What say you ?

If all above is a little too much for you beware I will write a book too. Dancing surely is the most relaxing form of merry making, I want to learn to dance now; one classical Indian style. Gotta get glued to my roots or I fear I might go haywire. My country is vast and varied like a world within another, I want to travel India alone. For rest of the World, an accompanying wife. Twenty five I have in mind, countries not wives.

Note: There are more it just keeps coming and coming; like being present in one Olympic Game or watch a World Cup Football match from the stadium and weird ones like sipping coffee at North Pole! Damn will be a farmer OK!!!

Skydiving instructor: Okay, let's deploy

Edward Cole: [singing] I've got a feeling I'm falling!

Skydiving instructor: We're in the red zone, pull the cord!

Edward Cole: [singing] I've got a feeling I'm falling in love

Skydiving instructor: PULL THE DAMN CORD!

Edward Cole: [pause] I was in love once...

Edward Cole is Jack Nicholson in "The Bucket List"

Courtesy: www.imdb.com

catch a wind

If there be a little time between dawn and sunrise, it will be this right here inside my room. Robi our pet rooster is already in tussle with silence and soon he will win into daybreak. There is another faint voice, a merry voice rising through rooster noise coming from the river; some solitary naoriya singing glory of Buridehing. Mild moist air is rushing through that vent just below a line where the brick wall meets our roof ceiling. As light is steadily growing and killing the darkness of my room; eight holes I can count right now six more to go before all fourteen holes will have light coming through. Then it will start crawling down the wall slowly, go over the picture of Bishnu Rabha and over the wall calendar picture of a parrot with a berry in its beak; till it reaches the edge of my bed and on my face!!! But I can still keep my eyes closed and cuddle in for some more time into sleeping or say, stay in this feel so good moment.

I do not remember how long I was asleep until I heard a sweet whispering into my ear,"get up my boy; Muga is waiting for you, get up love". These dreams I find very weird, I just saw it happening and I do not recall how it began and how I came to see what only I now remember of it; was it the end or in middle somewhere. Good today, I had a good one about a large ship coming in our river, it was colored in black and white; white above and black below. Then our river turned into a sea. There were also waves on the shore too, large one and small one, mostly small waves. I don't recall how but if I try closing my eyes again and stare hard I see how I am steering the big ship in open sea, changing gear from 2 to 3 to 4 and finally 5 when it was about to fly. Did I fly the big ship up in the sky?

Our Ranwonligaon is a big village, it is so big that we have two primary schools. Paaroporagaon on  other side of Buridehing has only one school, so Ratul, Surabhi and Deven come to our school; they are my class mates. They come in Ratul Khura's boat everyday across the river. Ratul khura is not same as Ratul who is my friend. Ratul khura is Deuta's friend. There is also a bridge at end of Garhaali but it's far from our school.

Muga is very playful today, this calf is now one year and fifteen days old and growing fast, fasted then the litchi tree; it hasn't even reached my height and I thought it will bear fruits this year. I will take him to a new patch of grass that Ratun and I had secretly discovered behind the Bor Namghar just as you cross the jack fruit tree and look beyond into the wetland, a little far you see our old river Buridehing then this line of green on the other side of the river and then the distinct line of horizon and then the clear blue sky, few dots of white clouds and then you take one more step and you fall. Fall into this shallow pond face down, no water, no mud just soft grass wet in dew and it doesn't hurt.

*Naoriya: A boat man
*Buridehing: River in eastern Assam
*Khura: Uncle
*Deuta: Father
* Bor Namghar: Hindu monastery
*Bishnu Rabha: Legendary Assamese singer and artist

Nevermind

         Many a time as a kid, really a small kid like 6 year old; I remember of having to face strange questions while being introduced to an Uncle, an Aunt or a distant relative along with other question like what is your name, which school do you go to, which class are you in and

 “What is your aim in life?”

• I want to be a teacher
• I want to be a doctor
• I want to be a policeman 
• I want to be an engineer 

   and many more want to be’s in life.

         All of it being induced into you by your parents, your teachers or sometime you learn from fellow mates in class. Because it was also a general practice at School, when in a new class or when a new teacher joins your class during the custom of introduction we would stand up one by one and say, “Hello Miss Rita. My name is Robin. And my aim in life is to become a doctor. Thank you.”

          I used to say I want to become an Engineer because someone told me that an uncle of mine is an Engineer so they have a car and we do not. Engineers get to drive cars. So I should also become an Engineer, drive car and live in a bigger house and yes own a color TV too.

          Perhaps its a good practice to induce a good profession into a child’s mind and while in process of growing up they begin to like it and many may actually be able to fulfill it. Like me, I did become an Engineer after all and will definitely say its because it was my aim in life as a kid and partly because that was all the opportunity I could create for myself. Its altogether a different thing that I still do not own a car nor live in a bigger house.

          However I do remember this one instance when having seen in TV, a game of boxing the previous night I declared in class that my aim in life is to become a “Boxer”- what resulted was a complete surprise to me I had not expected that at all. I was scolded and punished, made to stand all through that hour long class.

From Udhanpotan Saah Bagicha

This about a man; lean, dark and shabby, perhaps in his very late sixties what I remember. 'Budhu Kokai' everybody in Udhanpotan Tea estate from Bara Saheb - Hemen Kotoki to Chutki, five year old daughter of Jibon Kuki and Mina Kuki knew the angry old drunkard.  Budhu was a popular figure in our coolie lanes, you would always see him fighting and yelling at someone, even at his old goat. His wife was long dead and she bore him no children; he never married twice. He was not like this, he was a jolly fellow like most Tea Garden folks, always in merry mood and smiling and laughing and yes loved hariya the local drink. Never said no to any work assigned, very prompt and hardworking.

They say it was after his wife's death that he turned into this angry man, a mad man. Lot of story telling went around at time of her death, some say it was a failed witchcraft that killed her, she was desperate for a child. Budhu had been to town on that fateful day and only returned late at night to discover what has happened. He knew she was visiting some tantrik even after his repeated requests not to do so. They had big fights about it too.

After her death Budhu went in search of this tantrik, some say he found him and killed him; others believed he could never find the tantrik and became mad. His anger became more and more violent with each passing year. He drank a lot and would pick a fight with anyone and everyone. He stopped visiting the church and rumors spread Budhu has been taken over by the Devil. He lost his job, sold or gave away all his belongings for hariya. He passed his nights in an abandoned railway signal room on the southern edge of the tea estate beyond the big banyan tree. But for strange reasons he kept his goat; he would take her for grazing, bring her leaves of Jackfruit tree everyday and even give her a wash at times. Most of us have heard him shouting at the goat, but he would never hurt her.

Only other thing apart from hariya and that old goat, Budhu Kokai was very fond of Chutki, may be Chutki was the only person he was not angry with. He always told her stories about his adventures when he was a boy. He use to say, "Mina you are so lucky to have such a beautiful daughter, you should take good care of her and never be angry with Chutki. Are you listening Mina? Send her to School that is the only way she will realize her beauty, it is very important. Our Chutki should not become a dumb coolie like you. Do you even understand what I say, Mina? " After he died he was buried at the end of last the nala between his abandoned railway signal-room and the big banyan tree. There was nobody to put a flower at his grave that day and none from church came, no one mourned his death. His goat was sacrificed for Kali Puja feast that year. We all forgot about Budhu kokai too soon.

Now after these many years of his death you see so many flowers on his grave, there is a shade over it,  they clean it every day, twice. Only yesterday they even put up this new statue of him, it looks more like that Sai God from south nothing similar to Budhu Kokai I knew. People from all over the State come here to offer, there is always long queue every Sunday. I have even heard that some people came from as far as Kolkata and Mumbai. Its a shrine now, Budhu Kokai'r Dham they call it.

How it all begin? It was one of the hot Summer noon almost five years had passed since Budhu's death; end of July or start of August I don't remember exactly. That day at school Chutki's confronted couple of boys in her class over the ever trifling matter of boys being better than girls. Offended by her smart answers they poured ink on her shirt and when she complained Mukul Sir did nothing; he said it was by mistake and she should forgive them. A furious Chutki reached home only to find the door locked, Mina forgot to keep the key under the Tulsi tub, she sat on the steps for some time before she realized how hungry she was, insult, ignorance and now this. She could take it no more; hunger and anger. Now she was crying, she she stood up and walked out of the compound, into the lane. One after another coolie lines fell behind, Chutki kept walking without looking where she was going.  A number of people she passed by but nobody asked why she was crying and where she was going. She just wanted to far away from here, how could the boys be so rude, why did Mukul Sir not punish them, why did her best friends laughed at her, how could my own mother forget about me, why is the world not bothered to help me.

She reached the end of Udhanpotan, it was almost evening now, she was still crying but she could go no further. She was afraid and alone yet she did not want to go back. The only place she knew there was Budhu's grave, she remembered now how a few months before he died, he had come to her house, "My beautiful Chutki, if you ever be very angry and do not know what to do, come to me and yell at me, I will take all your anger". I cried and cried and told him all, all my feelings, all my aspirations, all my fears and all my anger. I do not remember when the sun had set and when it was night and when I fell asleep; until next morning someone found me near the grave and informed my uncle. They have been searching for me all night, even a police report was filed. Things only began to change when people started talking about how powerful Budhu has become after death, they said he fought with everyone all his life and now he has come back to help us. Even Mina went to pray at his grave after the last worst fight she had with Jibon. They say he takes away your anger and gives back peace. I don't know how true it is for others but for me I have never been angry since and peace he did give me.

I - a Devil and a God

I am the Devil and the God, you will get to know me as what you see and seek from me. For the same Devil and same God lives in you, said Delli as he rose to leave the room. Martin was still thinking what to make of all that has happened since morning. "It is difficult times you see, you may go now", said Martin

These words of Delli had left a mark on Martin's thought. He is still thinking how should he be able to judge that what is right and true in the Devil or in the God; that he has to see and seek in his fellow men like Delli. Delli had been a good friend for all these many years and Martin knew him well, but never expected to have to go through this day, having to make decision that will so hugely alter his good friend's life and the very feeling of being solely responsible for this is making Martin unbearably uncomfortable.

When you wish happiness for a fellow human in pure mind, you actually wish to become that happiness yourself, the bearer of good news. But not here, Martin is in deep struggle within his thoughts and thinking's.   He wished Delli to be happy yet Martin is bearer of the bad news, a Devils act. He felt so lost and wanted to escape this moment, runaway to some place far and hide. Martin switched on the radio by his side and closed his eyes as he leaned back on his chair as far as it could go.

With a soft crackle the radio began to play some song he did not really care and it played for a while not sure how long for Martin was almost dreaming when the door opened and he heard his named called as if God himself was calling him, "Martin, wake up Martin I have something to tell you. Its important, I want to know your opinion". Martin slowly opened his eyed and saw Delli standing and smiling across the table. Hey, Martin as you know things has not been going down well with me here in this office, no matter how I try it was not happening. You know I am not lying. "What is it Delli? Tell me"- said Martin. I just got a call from an old friend who lives in South Africa and he offered me a job from near home. Its a decent job not great salary like here but its near home. What do you think, shall I go for it?

Martin was shocked and a strange happiness grew inside him that wanted to come out, burst out of him as if all his wishes fulfilled. But he only smiled, tried to be gentle and said, "Ah! Boy that will give me an opportunity to visit South Africa. I have never been out of this damn State of Texas for God sake!" Delli smiled and thanked Martin. "Anytime mate anytime, thank you Martin". As Delli left the room, Martin moved his hands around behind his head so as to rest in the most comfortable position that he can and leaned back again. This time smiling as he looked at the file on his table that contain the list of people to be laid-off  this week. Delli's name was on top. And as he leaned and closed his eyes with the biggest smile that he had the Radio played-


                                                       

How many roads must a man walk down

Before you call him a man?

Yes, ’n’ how many seas must a white dove sail

Before she sleeps in the sand?

Yes, ’n’ how many times must the cannonballs fly

Before they’re forever banned?

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind

The answer is blowin’ in the wind

How many years can a mountain exist

Before it’s washed to the sea?

Yes, ’n’ how many years can some people exist

Before they’re allowed to be free?

Yes, ’n’ how many times can a man turn his head

Pretending he just doesn’t see?

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind

The answer is blowin’ in the wind...

Being Thaohatothao!

Hi! My name is Thaohatothao. I do not remember when and where I was born, I was too young to remember all that myself. From as far as I remember I grew up in a school of my cast and all my friends coincidentally had my name as theirs too.

Those were very difficult days we had to share all the little food that was given and there was hardly any space for all in the school. But it was fun, we did not had much to do just talk, talk and talk all day. There were also kids from different cast they lived in a nearby school; they were all so black and we did not talk, we did not want to talk with black kids. There were other schools as well. Hey, most interestingly there were so many other schools in the neighborhood and all of them had so many fancy colors; ours was the blue school and we elected Thaohatothao- the giant, as our leader (if ever we had to fight with the pink School black kids, we made hundreds of deadly plans for every school around us).

It was not long before I was taken to the High school; High school was not fun at all. It was at the eastern corner of the very busy shopping complex. There were a lot of people and lot of noise. What I hate the most was the dirt; it kept falling and falling all day, it just never ceased falling. High school was different from school it was bigger and lesser number of kids- we were not kids anymore though. But it was equally strange place some rooms were only for the same cast kids and some were not. I was put up in a class with a black kid, a kid with small eyes, a kid with large eyes, a smart short kid, a long dumb kid, a silent kid, a noisy kid and a beautiful red kid and she was a girl too. There were the others!(those kids that kept coming and going and a few died). I learned a lot in High school and we had to fight a lot with the others. Finally the kid with small eyes had to leave us and go with someone named Mr. Fitcher. The very next day I had to leave High school, it was kind of sad though Mrs. Daichie was very loving and caring; she was my new guardian. I do not know what happened with others.

Now my new guardians got me a brand new apartment- not so big but awesome place. It did not have edges like High school and no thin walls like School but it was round and strong and good interiors. But guess what was the best part- I had to share it with hot Latino girl. Twicti was from near the Amazon (that did not matter much, what mattered for me was that she is a girl and she is so hot and I have to live with her…WoW!) and she wore strips of white and black, looked great in those. I was kind of shy and did not talk much, I only talked with Twicti in my dream and we talked a lot. But we had lunch together, dinner together and also breakfast together. These good days did not last very long, Twicti had some disease, and she had to die one afternoon. Mrs. Daichie came that day, Daidai was very fond of Twicti and he cried a lot. Daidai is Mrs. Daichie’s second son but I only like Daifee, her fourth son. She has a first son and a third daughter too, I have not seen them much. Daifee always bring the food. We were very good friends, he always told me about his school and after school, his new toys and girlfriends, I even had the honor to audience his School band, they were all so cool. They played ACDC.

I did not live alone for long, by the time Gogolu and Mikakam came to live with me I was only about to feel lonely. Yes, yes Gogolu- the small black kid and Mikakam- the small eyed small kid they were from different cast but came form the same High school as I. I did not hate the black kid anymore instead I loved their company, we talked a lot and Daifee was always with us after his school. Thank God, I did not have a lonely life. I will now grow old and die one day but I exercise daily that keeps me healthy so it will take me some time before I die. I do miss Twicti sometime and when she comes in my dreams I do not talk with her much, I am afraid of ghosts.

I liked everything here, I love my life, I love this place. I even gave it a name I call it The Grape- sweet and juicy; it’s also my favorite fruit. Daifee calls it a Fish Bowl, Mrs. Daichie calls it a Fish Bowl too and so do Daidai and the others. But thats Ok with me' after-all I am sky blue in color, I have white dots all over and have fairy feather like fins and I am a fish and my name is Thaohatothao.

running in the rain

Looking at the ticker makes me hate time more then ever, find myself crouching in a stance lost in middle of an already crouching crowd. I sometimes hate rain more than time, it has been an audience to all eventful time of my life, mostly bad times. It rained on 21^st June, 1987, when the whole nation was under a shining sun it rained in Cheerapunjee all day, all night, all men were wet, all women were wet, all kids to school were wet, all animals under the trees were wet, all roof tops were wet, all hill tops were wet, I was also wet though not in rain on my zero’th birthday.

Now look at this puddle of stagnant water left by the dirty rain that just passed by; right, right in middle of my way. Shall I plunge and get myself a dirty wet foot or shall I tip-toe my way across the soft mud over its left edge thus rubbing shoulder with that wet brick wall? Or shall I just take a big leap to land on the other side!

“The other side” …a strange feeling just crept into my mind; just like my diddering dark shadow over water made by the last street light that I left few steps behind. A shadow as dark as the other side of this pool of mine, Ah! Murky life of mine. Schooling was never interesting, College was just another mess, after-College made me bitchy and my life miserable. Friends are empty beer bottles, drink, get drunk and throw away when done. Family is another name for a cashless ATM station, I hate them all; yet I miss them so much. Mr. Pratick Panicker was helpful, he gave me this job. But he took so much from me every night for so many days.

Do I have to regret? I don’t know, maybe I don’t care either. I had so many complain (I still have some) when at school, while at college, when I was lost and now while I work, this Café Coffee Day has been good to me. I have changed over time. It feels so good serving coffee to smiling young couples; boys starring at the menus while girls do blabbering; boys making queer faces and girls do the naughty moves; their giggles make me pass my sun happily over sunset. My tomorrow? Still unpredictable like my nights. Nights for me are gloomy, otherwise there’ so much so happening under Bangalore street lights. The ticker gave a new twist to my nights recently; only last Tuesday I joined a Christian missionary organization “A Mothers for a Child”. Now every night I go to this DonBosco Children Home and spend time with the children, read them stories, sing them songs, make them sleep, I am a part time Mom. What story shall I read tonight?

With a noisy doomp! I landed on the other side. I shall not read tonight I will narrate a story, the story of Awi. There are many a happy happenings in my life; I will share with my kids tonight.

like a flash in the pan

Story telling is the art of being able to play an incident in minds of the audience, keep it alive for a significant period of time and most importantly make them believe in what you narrate, no matter if it is merely a product of your ornamented imagination. Munnaf was just one of the best story tellers who walked the alleys of Old Delhi. He worked at the Rafiq’s Chai ki Dukan and lived in a single room two lanes down the same street. Ustad, as he is popularly known had not had much of education, he was married once but his wife died in her sleep years ago and left no children.

The transition of Munnaf becoming Ustad started with an experiment to pull crowd to the Tea stall; on instructions of Rafiq’s dead father, Munnaf would read the daily news paper for every customer if they wanted. Initially the idea was not very successful, so he started decorating lines with his own words while he read the newspaper. In two years time Rafiq’s was a famous hangout for both old and young. He would no longer read news from the paper rather narrate it in a story and sometimes just a story of his own.

After so many years its only his stories that people come to hear, no news reading anymore, Munnaf was now Ustad, the famous story teller of Old Delhi. He was an expert; he had polished his act of lying into the art of storytelling. But he could never grow more than what he started with, serving tea.

Dilip, was one of the regulars at Rafiq’s, he was a student of Geography at Delhi University. He was one ambitious young man; it was not long before Dilip stared making notes of Ustad’s stories. When he had enough Dilip went ahead to publish a book of his own, which was an instant hit. The book claimed a world wide response and Dilip became an acclaimed writer, rubbing shoulders with other giants of literature.

It was not very late that some of the listeners were able to see it through what Dilip has pulled out. News reached Ustad too. He never bothered about what happened, but people were constantly insisting that he should do something. When people insist, it’s so insisting that you start feeling the pressure. Owing to this pressure Ustad suddenly felt betrayed, betrayal is something that if you keep thinking about it you will end up making a list of all betrayers which may include everyone you have ever met, God or even your own self. One day the Ustad declared, “there would be revenge. Dilip will have to earn his fame.”

Since the first Sunday of his declaration rumors stared to spread, “Ustad will create the world’s greatest story; he has locked himself in his room for a week.” By Tuesday even the TV news channels started to cover his plight. And people did not wait till Saturday, by Thursday afternoon when after repeated knocks and calls no respond came from Ustad, the police stepped in and forced into the room. To utter surprise of em’ all there was no one in the room, no Ustad and none of his belonging. Only a note that said, “Thank you for reading what Dilip wrote of what I created”

the muffin top

He is all set for next couple of minutes, on his reading desk with an old notepad and a good new pen. He is about to start again into writing something which he wanted to write about so badly since last few weeks. The situation had only become more and more worse. It’s now taking a toll on his entire life, he sees it as the biggest obstacle, his greatest enemy, and his career was at stake. Where to go what to do whom to talk to!!!!...were the kinds of questions revolving inside his head.

Like all Siddhartha who are popular among their friends as Sid, the Sid here too was somewhat popular among his bunch, and wanted to work harder to live upto this reputation. Working hard might not be as hard as work itself, Sid worked for a Big MNC out there and recently started bringing home three folds of what he used to during the recession days.

Let’s get back to the point where I left him with his pen and paper. Yes, it has been quite some days since Sid, had this feeling that something was not going right with him. He could see it happening to him; feel its presence slowly growing within. The very thoughts brings in his mind, the days of yonder at school; when he was not like what he has become now; Ah! What a charm he was. Memories of Jeena comes flashing onto the inner screen of his closed eye lids, her voice seems to murmur into his ears a wild hymn, all fresh, sweet and seductive. But keeps fading into broken bits of memory. More like a trailer of some upcoming movie. A small vibration ran down his body as he slowly recovered from Jeena, an earthquake of this magnitude could have brought large scale devastation. He is in no better a situation, devastated with what has come over him.

Then he suddenly remembered his ‘Maa’ no not of the smiling old lady, living in some corner of some cornered village, framed from one of the afternoon TV soups. His Maa was different, healthy, stern and always ready to turn his back red. He also rememberd that non-living devil that leaned behind the corner of the kitchen door, his Maa’s unbreakable weapon of terror. The thought of the cane brought him back to life.

He could not even escape thinking about Kim(married with two kids), his manager. Kim is the one Sid fears the most and loves the most, for she is hot and hardly 36 and makes him work so hard. It was Kim, who declared him the most handsome boy on the floor last year, even invited him to her second son’s first birthday party(privately) of which he was so proud. But it is not going to happen this year, she is not pregnant with a third child, nor has she declared anything about him.

It is difficult to understand and relate why Jeena changed then, Maa did not change, and Kim is changing now. Whatever that be Sid did not understand, but he just made up his mind to believe as if he knew that life would not be same now onwards, not same around this muffin top. The words he wrote with is good new pen before tearing the page off the surface of the old notepad, “How ghastly I look with this pot belly, what if I can not get rid off it?”

Pouring into talking

You are not much of a partying kind, but on a fine Saturday after a long, long time when a couple of old friends suddenly decide to raise a toast… who on earth would want to decline such a generous opportunity. Pretty much not being concerned about rest of the word; all that you know drink some chilled Beer.

Having lit his old favorite Navy Cut cigarette, Niak started how harmful it is to smoke cigarettes these days, apart from the threat of cancer and other sister diseases, the traffic police and anti-tobacco activists are on prowl. That was out of his experience when he was caught in Chennai some time back and had paid more than his Tamil counterpart to get rid of the police. To which scrappy Dev smartly said, would have been same in Barrackpore, himself hailing from West Bengal, but my Marathi friend (Niak) with his distinctive long smile darted at Dev and said come to Pune. While the silent Jatt, Rahul was least interested in burning tobacco and announced, “Bottoms Up, bottoms Up…guys quick. For good times. Cheers!!!” ………Gulp! Gulp! Gulp! Went us four.

With arrival of the aachars and the plate of chackna, and of course more beer our chit-chat turned into exciting narrations; even the silent Jatt couldn’t resist his expert views on how the unusual North Indian roti curry in the South Indian hotels was taking toll on his good health. “Come to Pune its much better, north Indian means north Indian only...”retorted Niak. Dude that happens, I mean we are in Bangalore you can not ask for what you liked back at home, likewise you don’t get good idly, bada or even all dosa's that sells in Delhi. “The best thing is to try in those Chinese food joints they are neither North Indian nor South Indian and so are the people serving there”, said Dev. “Aare! Most of these boys come from Nepal and the Northeastern states” said I. Dev drowsily pointing at me, see this fellow from Assam yet doesn’t look like one. Rest of us laughed, “chad gayi tereko saale!!!” More Beers poured in and more smoke, the talk became more exciting when Rahul started describing this hot Gujarati girl that has recently joined his team and how took her out to one of the good Chinese restaurant and had to go all veggie. With mention of Gujarat, amongst laughs Dev started his likes about Modi’sm, and how the state had developed and flourished post Godhra, but none of us were particularly satisfied or happy with his views, with Naik talking about his Muslim neighbor whose family was brutally murdered and now they are more like his own family. Rahul mentioned about his childhood friend Hakim who was in middle-east now, still send gifts and how his whole family came to attend Rahul’s sister’s marriage and stayed with them over a week. And also about, beautiful Assama; whom he had been dating during his Delhi days. Then when Dev started about Saidul (his class mate in school and neighbor), he went over board stating him celebrating Durga puja and ended up saying Saidul as a Muslim who was not even a Muslim…….. making us go wild with laughter, Dev only smiles elusively with his drowsy eyes. Still more kept beer pouring into our taking.

trip down history

“I can only imagine of people that I have not seen or met but have come across what they did-they gave life to rocks”……such is the splendor of the ruins of Hampi. Scattered over an area of about 80 sq km on both banks of the river Tungabhadra are the relics and ruins of ancient city of Vijayanagara. A standing proof of Indian history, civilization, engineering, art and prosperity.

A rather unscheduled plan led to this travel experience, I and my brother (who having canceled his picnic trip to Hogenekel Dam) started very late that evening to Yeshwantpur Railway Station, coupled with a rough auto ride midst teeming Friday Bangalore traffic and fear of missing the train. We were lucky to reach in time, the train arrived Hospet at around 2:20 AM early in the morning (8 hrs from Bangalore). Then we waited for the sun to rise. It was almost 7 AM when we reached the very small town of Hampi surrounded by rocky hills; it was hardly 12 KM from Hospet. Rinku have had his privileged nap during the Bus ride and was now feeling hungry, so was I. The first thing we did was start looking for breakfast and it was hot pooris and rich chytney and sabji. With our tummy tight we started looking for rooms. There are no hotels in Hampi town, here all are Inn’s, since it was off-season now we easily got one big double bedded room for 250 bucks. Soon we were ready for the day’s tour, as for baggage we had only one bag so we decided to take it along. Our Inn owner had already told us how to begin and where to go and we took no maps (map’s sometimes kills the adventure of re-Discovery). Hired two bikes from Hampi Bazzar near the main temple (40 Rs for a day) and also bought two pair of cheap shades (200 Rs). The temperature was already rising at a rapid rate, so water (15 Rs). Now with bikes, shades and water in the bag we started towards our first destination the “Royal Enclosure”

The Royal Enclosure was not a big mahal or quilla as we had thought, infact if was much bigger then what we imagined though there was no significantly standing building except a few temples and high platform, ruins of Pan-supari market, Royal-mint, Royal graineeries, the Elephant Stables, etc . We parked our bikes and started walking past the ruins following information boards, easily one can know one most usual thing-the water system, underground drains linked smaller wells to larger wells and likewise. The high platform must have been still higher; there are signs of columns removed or destroyed by time. At around 12:30 noon when the temperature was as high as 43 *C, we were back in our room (after having Lunch in Hampi bazaar). We were pretty tired and slept till 4:30PM. The second half started at around 5 PM, destination the Vittala Temple, there are many routes to this place but with our bikes we took the one that goes by the river (a bad decision we thought). Most of the times on this route we were either toiling over an uphill ride or dragging our bikes and even carrying them on our shoulders. At the river bank small dingis will take you for a ride across the river that we did not do. On our way we stopped to see many structures that had their own significance in its time. We also went to take a dip in the rive near the ancient bridge (only the columns remain now). When we reached the Vittala temple it was almost dark, this temple is inspired by the Konark Sun Temple in Orissa however it has its own significance. The walls and columns of the temple make musical notes when tapped, but the security guard will not allow you to go knocking and tapping everywhere. We were back in Hampi bazzar by 7:30 PM, returned our bikes and went on a walk towards the main river bank. Later at night we had dinner at Mango Tree restaurant before getting back to our room in Aum Guest House. It was already 10:30 and utterly tired we slept like the rocks outside.

Next day we woke up as early as 5 AM, can’t miss the sun rise. Hurriedly we walked towards the Himakutta Hills and a small climb to the highest rock possible and a splendid sun rouse, we sat there on the rocks over looking the Hampi bazzar and the massive gateway structure of the Virupaksha Temple till we felt our tummy growling for breakfast. It was Sunday and our final day here so we checked out from our room, and went to walk along the river side, we slowly started climbing the hill till we reached the temple like structure on top of it, we thought it was a cave doorway. The actual cave was quite below us, near the river bank. Once we came down from the hill we went straight back to the bus stand near Hampi bazzar and back to Hospet. We still longed to see the other side of the river but we did not have enough time or money as the ATM machine in Hampi was not working!!! That evening we took a long bus journey back to Bangalore.

Hampi Trivia:

1) Every rock has its own story, do not ignore. Or else you might step on a Shiva Linga.

2) Every restaurant, inn or whatever that sells is recommended by some L* Planet. Names worth mentioning are Lonely Planet, Lovely Planet and Living Planet.

3) Everything is 25% more costly; try not to bargain most of the times it doesn’t help.

4) There are lot of hippie like dresses available (patched in multi colors) and so are te hippies. Spend some time with them if they allow you to join in.

5) December and January is the best time to visit Hampi, however our time was the most adventurous.

original score

"was at home for a couple of weeks", "wow!, so have you brought something for
me?" No, absolutely not. I have brought nothing for anyone.

Tell-a-Tale, I have an original score, shall I proceed!

Going home: A waiting List ticket worth of 700 bucks standing at 482 when bought and last updated to 211 to travel some odd 3600 kilometers. Indian Railways has these strange ways of earning. A very confident average Indian(one like me) even dares to travel such distances on mercy of the train floor. "Lets spread the News Paper and rest our ass. Got a long way to go.", yelled a fellow mate with Waiting List stand 43. I stood there, by the door for a few hours before the light bag started spraining my shoulders. With rest of the passengers already fallen asleep even some on the floor. Placed the bag somehow under the first berth, and also took the liberty of informing the berth owner that I wanted to share a part of his throne. My friend in middle of his deep slumber gave a quick nodding. Thank you heavens now I have a place to sit and read the book! Yes, what else can one do when you know what ought not to do. In my case its "Sleeping".

Pulled out that and adjusted my posture to fit in, with my legs stretching over to rest the berth across. With Khaled Hosseini's "Thousand Splendid Sun" in my hands; my now sleepy eyes read the assorted plight of women in Afghanistan. Meanwhile my legs kept folding and rising for every one who kept passing by all night, felt like some security toll gate. The rate of which marginally increased with each new station adding more waiting list passengers.

The same thing repeated the next night and also the final night before Khaled stopped writing, I stopped reading and the train too drew closer to the horizons starting a new morning before it halted for the last time. That's how I reached home this Bihu. And you must have already understood what I was doing during day time. Yes, with good wishes from my friend I slept on his berth literally the whole day.

sometimes it happens

This is not exactly a tell-a-tale, though there are a lot of scattered entities that if I try to combine into a single thread, we should have a story( not an epic).
Pertaining to change there are times when renascence is supposed to happen, history has seen it all the time. The Industrial revolution, redrew the Artistic manifolds into Scientific terms, the great Wars redrew world maps, and what we are going through today they term it ???(they do not have any term). Whatever let us not give much head to all these as the discussion. As it will continue as new turns keep coming, and it will not restrict you to bear with me, instead it will become a torture for you. Have you finished smoking that thing, now help me cross this road, I am blind as you have already known...

Not everyday will I have the honor to meet this man, it was only once. Had some accident in which he lost his vision. But his mind is indeed enlightened with. That day was entirely a new experience in itself. It started with same old BMTC bus, same long walk from Agara Lake, same old faces at office but a new assignment. A new project has come up and my Director wants me to be a part of it. Good! Then things became unfolding only after evening. I left office at around 7:30, with most of my colleagues already gone. There was no bus, so started walking towards Agara stop. I was not feeling very good, a trifling tummy. So was reluctant to walk, I stared making gestures for a lift to every vehicle passing by, except the Auto's(had only fifteen bucks at hand). "What is it boy why did you raised you hand?" I said,"Lift Sir, till Agara if you are going towards that way." Now what we normally expect is a "Yes, sure" or a "No, I am sorry." He did not say anything started his bike and went his way, I started walking again that was the only one to stop.

In Agara, got to do what everyone there was doing and that I always do, "stare". You need to get a glimpse of the bus number before it halts and then fight your way into it. From a bus that had just halted (not mera wala number), this young fellow walked up to me and handed over a day-pass, "Would you like to have it, my bus journey ends here". I said,"Thank you!" and took out my purse. Its alright, you need not pay me and he moved away. Ah! I have a pass now (8 rupees saved), but where is the bus. So happily waiting, but there is no 242A. Even the Cabs and Mini buses were pooling in to get some extra bucks apart from their office service, but not to Koramangala. Damn! I was getting late, when a Maruti Zen, just stopped by my side and the driver stared at me I thought he must me looking for some address. Instead he asked if there was any one going towards Richmond road, I said No, I only need to go to Forum Mall. OH! its on the same road, hop in fast, he said. Back of my head, I felt something something could be wrong though he seems to be well dressed and has a Intel logo sticker on the windshield. Meanwhile I was already sitting in the car and we were moving fast towards Forum Mall via Madiwala where he dropped a lady who was his colleague. Though we did not talk much just an introduction, I came to know that he always pools in someone on his way back home. He dropped me at Forum and I wished him a Thank You and a Goodnight.A ten minutes walk and I would reach my room, so started with quick steps.Half-way comes the mobile tea stall that is always standing on the same spot, felt the urge for a smoke. I searched my pocket, it had a five rupee coin and the day-pass that I can use no more. It was there where I met Mr. Pasha, the enlightened blind man. He was already there talking with the vendor when I joined to listen their conversation.

only the other day on my way to office(Short Story)

only the other day on my way to office I met this extraordinary security personnel(Fresher), Pavan Kumar from Hajipur in Bihar. Now and obviously how he became a victim of our city is what goes below.

Already 8:30 by my watch and it takes more than 45 minutes to my office from my apartment. I just put these ear phones and tuned my mobile to the FM waves, the song from Honeymoon Travels Pvt Ltd just started "sajana de wari wari..." only added to my unevenly fast ambulation.

Let me also tell you, Bangalore is real busy in morning hours. However this fellow who was reluctantly walking ahead of me seemed to be singing the same song in slow motion, I was not at all looking at him apart from the fact that I just saw a bus that I was suppose to catch, is missed now. The traffic signal has to be crossed to get to the bus stand on the other side. I was in hurry so I went cross as fast as I can seeing the traffic lights go RED. He came slowly behind me to the place where I was standing for the bus now, "ye G4S ka office kahan hai...", removed the plug ins and "I am sorry!". He asked me again, I told him to ask the autowala, he must be knowing it better. He went and talked with the auto driver and came back to me. "Ye BDA complex yahan se kittna dur hai?" Cross the road, walk to the next signal and take a right then go straight(in Hindi).Pawan said, "Thank you" in English this time. I smiled back and he went ahead to cross the road that was empty due to the red light at the last signal.

He was hardly mid way when this pair of "power puffed" girls on their speedy scooty collided with our Pawan, erstwhile son of the Wind God. Fortunately nothing much happened, he didn't even fall nor did the Aapsaras(that is what he called them). But Mr. Son of Wind God was immediately attacked by rallies of verbal abuses, nothing of which he hardly understood. "Sorry, sorry", was his only defense against the Raging Babes. There was already a small gathering, me being part of this excitement too. As most of the our kinda class of bangaloreans do, "Dats Ok, Dats Ok..." and the engine started once again to look for its next victim, leaving Pawan with a small tear on his supposed to be new trouser. Helped him cross the road back to the place where we were standing and I asked if he would like to take a bus to BDA Complex, as I would take bus that goes past BDA too. We got up the next bus, did not have seats, quite packed at these hours. when the bus was about to reach BDA Complex I informed him that he needs to get off at the next stop. Pawan asked for my phone number, OK given. Then one more, "Thank you". Too good, taken!; now just before leaving he said, "Engreji to humne bhi school me sikhi hai, magar ye Aapsaraye kya bol rahi thi humko kuchu samaz me nahi aaya." garnished with a very hilarious looking face.