You can not just quit Mr. Patil!!!!

Like most of the Indians I woke up today with a sense of frustration. The morning news had a few words from our elected representatives and thankfully so. As I switched on my TV there was a breaking news that Shivraj Patil had offered to quit during one of the high-level meetings of the union ministers.

You can not do that Mr. Patil!!!!! We elected you and your dear Madam offered you our caretaker's post. After this horrendous act by the terrorists you can not just shun your responsibilities and offer resignation. The best rather the only thing you can do is re-order our house before you leave. You can not leave a mess and think that someone else will take this responsibility. You were not offered this responsibility to maintain your gelled look, even though from your eventful tenure it seems you did only that.

My mind was raging with such thoughts. May be I was also thinking of sending a postal mail to Mr. Patil that my call-bell rang. My chain of thought was broken but that sense of frustration never subsided. As I opened the door I saw a face which poured the proverbial oxygen on my already infuriated mind. He was our vehicle cleaner who like most of our politicians had been doing a horrible job, since last week. And I did exactly what an average person would have done - Vented all my ire on him till his eyes changed from a shocking wide to a pleading wide.

"Sir sorry sir!! Given it to a friend sir...was not well...not good sir...will do it myself now sir" he offered his usual excuses in Kanglish. Yes that is the language which some people try to communicate in Bangalore and if you are a software engineer you are bound to get a bountiful of that.

"See we pay you for a service...at least make yourself worthy of that money" isn't it a typical software engineer response. We always tend to think in terms of assets, worth, issues et al.

"Next week leaving for native sir...not coming back!!!" he threw another shock.

So he had only come for his money. Isn't he another Mr. Patil? No care, not answerable for the callous act of his. Aren't we all someway similar to our home minister (he still is, at least till the time I publish this post)?

Do we care for our work being done without any callousness? Everyday I see people not caring for rules, be it the imposed traffic rules or the non-imposed civic ones. Is it some kind of Indianness that binds us or better still is it that elusive national integration that those old fellas used to talk about?

But still Mr. Patil this is not in support of you. You can not just pass the buck by resigning.

I had another thoughtful round which has resulted in the following random thoughts:

1) We are a billion-strong nation, but why is there a shortage of staff? Be it in government offices or our government undertakings or army for that matter. I know to get into army one needs special skills but who says we can not mould ourselves
2) Why can not politicians be made answerable? Public memory is so short that by the time we go for another round of elections our memory loss helps us in forgiving the erring elected representatives.
3) Why can not we have an year of compulsory military training and another of compulsory service (as a friend suggested)? Besides instilling discipline, it will help us in understanding our role as responsible citizens.

PS: As I complete this blog, I hear Mr. Patil has resigned. So you turned out to be another mere mortal, after all!!! Taking the path of least resistance.

Truth will Find its Way!!!

Dumped in the sleaze,
Twisted by many mindless noughts
Shrouded under thick layers
Made complicated by multiple thoughts
Ignored by the ubiquitous "Who cares?"

Lost in a corner
Of the humongous space-time curve
Put in the literal back-burner
By the agitated nerve.

Though cowards just chicken out and fear to say
But Truth will for sure find its way!!

Welcome to Sajjanpur-My experience!!

There are very few things in this world which throw you into a sea of nostalgia. Take for instance the smell of jasmine on a moonlit night. It surely reminds one of the good old days of careless wanderings in the pre-pubescent age where most of the things are mysteries to the small undeveloped brain.

For me it was the dialogues of "Welcome to Sajjanpur", besides the visual rendering of some of the scenes in the movie by the director par-excellence, Shyam Benegal, that made me almost drown in that sea.

"Welcome to Sajjanpur hai yaar...just 130 bucks!!! Chalna hai", I shouted from my room to my roommate who was busy with one of his bang-bang games.

"Le lo!!! It is damn cheap yaar". 130 bucks per ticket is cheap cos we have spent many a night watching some real dabba movies and even paying 250 per head for some real ludicrous ones. These multiplexes have changed the way one used to watch a movie.
Night show it was!!

Cursing our luck and the Bangalore traffic we reached our destination just in time but directly headed towards McDonald's to cater to our famished tummies. Our plate was full of aloo and its variants as is the norm there and as we gorged our teeth into the McD's veg tikki, we heard this, "Abhishek Bachhan looks like an overgrown aloo tikki man and his look is taken from...".
I am not an avid gamer so I dont remember the last syllable that was uttered but it is sure that he had used the name of some very popular game. Besides that thing about aloo tikki almost killed our apetite.

Semblance or no semblance to Abhishek Bachhan, we removed that thread of thought and finished our stuff to rush towards our screen. I was shocked to see many people hurrying for the Sajjanpur show. The screen next to ours was playing "Drona" the Abhishek-Priyanka mythological superhero movie, a unique concept or so they had thought. So this is what they were comparing to an overgrown tikki - may be McD can pool in AB for their promos - simple reason being people can, and may I say do, find resemblance to the stuff that McD sells.

As the movie started I was taken to a different world altogether. The story was based in a small village and each character was so well written that they looked real to me. I was almost like "This is Tiwari Chachi, munna bhaiya, pappu, jhaji...I know them all". For me bred in a small town, identifying with the characters was never a problem but then even the events and dilaogues. It was almost surreal.

How many people, save the Biharis and eastern UPradeshis, would understand "gai bihayee hai"? It was one of the few dialogues which made "Welcome to Sajjanpur" pretty unique. There were some dialogues which were "apparently" obscene but for the chaste hindi used to nullify the effect. And the best part was only a few understood it.

For me the movie was not a fictional story of some village in some remote part of the country, it was almost like the story of my own village. Not to mention I loved the experience better than Aloo tikki and its twin brother.

विरोधाभास

भंवर है, उत्पात है
जलन है, विरह है
राख है ,धूल है
विकीर्ण है, वृहद् है
शोर है, विस्फोट है

सुन्दरता है, जोश है
सदाचार है, परोपकार है
खुशबू है, रंग है
प्रीत है, दया है
इच्छा है, सोच है
जज़्बा है, उमंग है
प्रकाश है और आशा है

शायद इसलिए ज़िन्दगी है

Few conversations and a Freak Accident

"Here is your Citibank envelope, Sir and the account number is your log-in and a special password is provided in the envelope for internet banking", he went on in his business like tone.

What!!!! Was I dreaming? I had filled the form just ten minutes back. Is this guy serious? 

He had not even cross-verified whatever I had filled. I could not keep my poker-faced expression for long and accepted this as another pleasant shock.

I should have had adjusted to these efficient ways, now that I had started my third day in the new company and especially after having experienced some real professionalism. I had come to open my salary account at the Citibank helpdesk on 6th floor of the building. Having an awful experience at such things in my last company, I was under the impression that the account docs will reach me in another week or so. And it might take another week to activate my account. 

But lo and behold!!! I was clutching on to my Citibank packet, like that was my dearest possession on the planet and walking back to my cubicle. All this in a record time of just 15 minutes. 

Do they have an entry in the Guinness Book of World Records? 

The Citibank representative had also stated that the account will be active in two days once the finance department of the company clears the verification. What else does one need? 

Thank you Mr.? - And I didn’t even ask his name. Shall I say hangover of my last company’s behavioral traits.

The building where my new company is located is oval shaped with a huge atrium at the centre which is well bounded by parapets. After seeing the building plan on the intranet, I had thought of just having a dekko at the atrium. Curiosity had the better of me and there I was, moving towards that passage which opened there. Walking next to the parapet, I looked down and the sight was good enough to give me weak knees. 

It was like I was gazing down a deep pit of around seventy feet - I never knew that I had fear of heights until that day! I tried controlling myself and under the duress pushed the nearest door that opened into the oval hall surrounding the atrium. I almost ran towards the stairs and reached my cubicle on the 4th floor. Was my head reeling? May be I am acrophobic.

"Accident!!”, I was almost startled! 

It was an employee who was standing at the window near my cubicle and was just seeing the vehicular movement on the road. People here, as I have noticed, have peculiar ways of killing time. Some make "dhin-chak" drum sounds from their mouth while gazing at their computer screens, some play the good old Pac man on their laptops and yes there is a group of cricketers as well. Every afternoon they play cricket in their cubicle and pretty energetically, with appeals and all. And then there was this man who loves roads (rather one road) and vehicles!

There is a small passage next to my cubicle and after the passage is a row of windows with blinds. This row of windows opens towards the Langford Road side of the building. The road-lover had pulled up the blinds and was satiating his visual urges. No sooner had he shouted, he was joined by his co-workers.  The CUG (close-user-group), a dedicated group of friends who are ever ready to join each other under any circumstances, had herded around road-lover to get a glimpse of the action!

"Oh it is that i10 and it has knocked off that bike!!” this guy wanted everyone to know about his observation skills.

"Oho it has scraped that Indica as well", the same guy. He must be the Harsha Bhogle of this floor. With thick curly hair and thicker glasses, his looks were a far cry though.

"Taewwonnn…Tding...tiding”, this was supposed to be the background music. Bollywood has drastically altered an average Indian’s dramatic skills.

“Hehe…Shankar you should join Rangashankara!!!” Yes, the guy surely will fit back stage, with such superior skills and a nerdy face, who needs a synthesizer for background score?

“You see that lady. Look she is coming out now. She will not accept her mistake”, Harsha was on, unmindful of the praise his accomplice was getting.

“See I told you, the Indica guy is gone now. May be he should surrender. You can not win in an argument with a LADY DRIVER”. Our commentator was as undiplomatic as they come!

“Hey see that guy running from the other end of the road?” This was a person who looked pretty confused with all commotion but still, it seemed, had a better observation than our commentator.

“Yes!! Saw that? He was unbuttoning his shirt cufflinks…hahaha is he going to beat up that lady?” Our Harsha is not bad and with finer details like unbuttoning of cuffs - is he in a wrong profession?

“It seems no one has any job…see such a small accident and there’s a crowd already”. How true? Incidentally, there was one some 50 ft above the place of action as well. And Mr. Manager (he can not be anyone else) was unaware that he too was doing the same thing. This is true anywhere in India. You have a freak accident and a crowd will surround you, not to help but to see what has happened. May be everyone is so bored of the saas-bahu serials on TV!!!

“I think we should call the TV guys to cover this”, another media influence and we should thank channels like AajTak for this. From a child rescued from under a deep sewage hole to the lost-and-found story of a commissioner’s dog, they can make anything prime time news. After all it has a reputation to mach.

This AajTak fan commented and made a move towards his cubicle. Walking past me he gave a smile and I smirked back not at him but his taste for news channels. The mob-mentality was in place and without any second thoughts all of them started moving towards their respective places.

Phew!! So much for one i10 and one Indica. There was one more casualty (was it a bike!!) but I was busy with my project document and never thought about it.

At that time my group admin turned up and I was informed about the procedure to collect my ID. As instructed I went to the ground floor of the building and posed for a photograph. The lady there informed that in another 20 min the ID will be dispatched to the 4th floor reception and I can collect it from there. Another instance of efficiency!!

After I came back I saw our commentator coming back to the window.

“Hey guys!!! It is still on” Wow!!! How long can you argue over two cars - and one bike? And how long can you have an interest in that?

“No!! The Indica driver is not giving up. Man!! The guy is resolute.”

“Shankar!! See that lady. She is going now with the Indica man. Thank God, peace at last”. May be the lady was taking the Indica guy to police station. Watch carefully you moron!! Someone has to pay for the repairs.

Shankar also joined our commentator but from their looks it was clear that the action was over. I got a call from 4th Floor reception that the ID card was ready and I can collect it from them.

I hurriedly moved out with all my belongings. It was already five o’clock and after collecting the ID I decided to leave for the day. There is no doubt that the day was eventful but the repercussions of the events were still waiting for me. 

As I reached the parking I got the first shock. It was my bike which was knocked off by the LADY DRIVER. One rear view mirror was broken and as I kick-started my bike I heard a crackling sound. This was the icing on the cake, the sound was emanating from the chain box as the chain after falling off the axle had got stuck in it. It was a pretty bad fall for my poor bike.

How I wish instead of being the holier-than-thou idiot, I had joined the motley group to catch a glimpse!!! This is what is called “Khaya peeya kuch nahin glass phoda 12 aana”.

PS: Well there is another more explicit saying in Hindi for this situation but it can not be put on this blog.

A few Conversations and a train journey - 2

Naini is the first stop which is hardly any distance from Allahabad. We were joined by a group of local people who were going to Mughal Sarai, a place more known for its railway station than any other thing. Some more commotion followed but thankfully no more jostling for any seat. My restlessness was pretty obvious to people around but why would anyone care.

“Going to Patna, beta?” a deep baritone in chaste English without any trace of accent surprised me. I turned to find it was the old man in kurta-pajama who was eager to know my destination.

“No Bhagalpur”, I blurted, knowing for sure that at least in UP, my home-town is not as renowned as Patna.

“Oho another six hours from there”, this man sure knew his “time and distance” stuff and obviously geography.

I was in no mood for any conversation but in the Hindi heartland if someone starts off in English, without any local accent, it generates a sense of curiosity. And that too in SL class of Indian Railways. Did someone say “India shining”?

“I am going to Patna”.

Wow!! Even this train is going to Patna!!! Not interested can’t you read SIR.

I have never been to any foreign country - being a software engineer for more than three years and not touching overseas shore is a shameful act, at least in India (anyway who gives a rat’s arse) – but I am pretty sure this conversing with uninterested people is prevalent only in India.

“You are from Bihar?” We, Indians, are good in converting an assertion into a question by just changing the tone. I was just trying to appreciate his effort for conversation and this is what came out of me.

The man gave me a toothy smile and I could see it was a false teeth set, not fitting his aged jaw line. “No”, the baritone responded. So he is well traveled at least to know the timings to various stations or may be he has some connections.

Was he smiling on my wrong guess or was it my English?

“You see, I feel more like an Indian than belonging to any particular state.” Impressive words, suits the baritone.

The man who was sitting on my side of the window started making some movement. He squat on the ground and started pulling out his luggage from beneath the berth.

Oh great!!! - Another encroacher of seats. He has no reservation and still was occupying the window seat.

A few conversations and a train journey

“It is because of the rains, bhai sahib”, I heard the most ubiquitous explanation for the oppressive humidity as I was checking my berth number. It was an August morning and as I glanced across I saw quite a few grimacing faces, thanks to the humidity.

The journey between Allahabad and Patna is not too long (if you are lucky and the God of karma - they call Him Vishwakarma - is on your side then it takes around eight hours). However, the heat in these regions makes it really unbearable in the summer months. August is not exactly summer but more than the temperature it is the rains (me too!!!) that makes the journey very tiresome. And if you have a booking in the SL class, which is equivalent to general class in this part of the country, you are in the heat of things, literally.

I had a booking for the middle berth and as it was a day journey there was very little chance of me occupying my place. Asking for an excuse I joined the motley group which, though didn't exchange smile, had made enough movements to make me feel comfortable.

Colours were very vivid on the berth opposite to the one I had just occupied. On the far end towards the window sat an elderly man in flowing white hair and matching kurta-pajama. No facial hair made him look younger than he actually was. Next to him sat a sadhu and in complete contrast to the previous occupant had every part of his face covered with hair. He was wearing a saffron robe, which is quite common attire of sadhus in the northern states of India. Three other people had also somehow fixed themselves to the berth and even though each one of them was not very comfortable, none of them was giving an inch to the other. It was more than a war and everyone knew an inch is more than a kilometer in war.

To be contd...

आज फिर...

आज फ़िर ज़िन्दगी ने दी पटखनी
आज फिर कंधो पर बोझ का एहसास हुआ;

आज फिर प्रयास में हाथ गंदे हुए
पर किसी उपलब्धि की कमी खली;

आज फिर सपनों की लड़ी बिखरी
आज फिर उन्हें संजोने का मन बनाया

आज फिर आसमान अपरिमित लगा
आज फिर डर ने साहस को खदेड़ दिया;

आज फिर एक शोर विचारों पर आच्छादित हुआ
आज फिर सुर ने धुन का साथ छोड़ा;

आज फिर उम्मीद का दीपक बुझता हुआ सा लगा
आज फिर तमस प्रकाश पर हावी हुआ।