A new resolve

It has been a while since I wrote anything. Hence I have decided that this is the right resolution for me at this juncture of life - to write more and often. Well, the reason is simple. It is not that my life has witnessed an interesting turn of events or because I have an inner urge to put my 'oh so creative' imagination into writing. Last but not least, it is definitely not to flaunt my english language skills. On the contrary, I have been observing that my vocabulary is getting more and more limited to "stuff" and "thing". (typical sentence - The thing is, all that stuff is not the thing). When its neither "stuff" nor "thing", its "you know?" or even worse, "I dont know...". My language has been on a steady decline since some time and I want to salvage it before it decays and rots. Also, I recently read 'Anne Frank's Diary' and wondered if I would remember anything of my own past if I do not capture it in writing. I see my childhood stuff (argh ! there it is..the STUFF) and remember what I was. I want something to remember my present in the future. (yeah, bad sentence.. so what ! thats all I have now) And hence this post ! A new resolve....

Sha-La

One of my dearest friends, DJ, had an urgent need to look for new accommodation. So we both found ourselves room hunting on a not-so-pleasant evening ( to be read as dirty, dry n cold evening). Our first halt was at this place with a Marathi "rector". She was so ferociously Marathi she could bite. While I ied my best to mumble a few marathi words I knew in response , DJ caring the least. At the end of our short visit, the rector declared the inevitable.."if you have to bring your brothers, they have to wait downstairs. Cant go up with you". Whoa !!! DJ dint have so many 'brothers', so that wasnt a problem anyway :P.

Our next halt was at this place which had a weird French-Indian name in a lane where even a man and his dog cant walk comfortably alongside. We parked our bike outside the gate and I started muttering my usual.."Oh God please dont have a dog pounce on me now" prayers while lil DJ pushed open the gate. We were looking around when Voila !!! There, in that slightly creepy moment, we had our first glimpse of Sha-La. Hearts stopped beating, mouths started opening and breathing stopped happening. Pulses weakened as we looked around for support. Who should stand in front of us but a voluptous young woman who was dressed to kill. Yes, she could kill even women. We managed a weak.."Room dekhne aaye hai" and she went in calling out.."ahooo.." (Marati housewives address their husbands like this). And who should come out but a thin, dark man with glasses as thick as Sha-La's lipstick (I would bet if she were ever given anaesthesia on her lips, it would never reach her veins). He was the caretaker.

DJ was excited about the place but I wasnt able to decide who( the man or his wife) gave me the creeps.. I convinced myself that it is Sha-La. The next afternoon, PG and DJ went again to see the room and PG convinced me that the guy wasnt as shady as I thought he was. DJ decided she loved the place and we went again in the evening to settle things. Then the Sh-La effect struck PG. Her memory and eyesight might have become temporarily busy processing Sha-La while she had a weird conversation with the caretaker which went like..

"Accha.. ShantaRam kahaan hai..?"
"Madam, me hi Shantaram hoon."
"Kya? to subah wo kaun tha?"
"Wo bhi main hoon"
"Kya? Aap ho? To aapne subah aapke chashme pehne the kya? oooooooooooooo"

While I stood sadly witnessing PG gathering her senses again :D

Anyway, DJ stays in the Sha-La apartment and we hear stories of how her saree pallu is always about to fall and how her lipstick is always so red and so thick... PG and I wonder when we will get over the Sha-La effect. A glimpse could paralyze you for life. Thats Sha-La short for "Shady Lady" :D

The Fifth of September

Birthdays are always special. For one thing, they remind you that time is running out :( and for another, they remind your friends/loved ones of you :). This birthday was no exception. When V called from US, fond memories of yester years came back.

I remember two incidents particularly. For some strange reason, we used to be obsessed with our belongings in office (this was when we were just interns in y!). Even to go to the cafeteria for lunch, we used to make a huge scene of whispers, signals and signs, pack our cubicles up, zip our bags, put them on and be off, get back after lunch, unpack the whole thing and start working with a grave face, not realising all the while, that we were causing acute embarrassment to ourselves and immense entertainment to passersby.. until one day, a snobbish senior of ours confronted us.."edukku neenga BITS oda maanatha vaangaringa? Unga bagsa yaarum tookindupoyidamaata." (Why are you spoiling the BITSian name? Nobody is going to flick your bags). If I remember right, we hung our faces, jolted at the idea of having to leave our dear darling bags behind.But we did it ! (for the sake of you-know-what).Ugh! We hated ourselves.

Another one is the y! cafeteria. We had free lunch (that makes it yummier, doesnt it?). Anybody who has graduated from BITS would agree with me when I say that we were famished and deprived of good food all four years. On the other hand, B'lore offered us such huge variety that one could still be famished because one could never choose what to eat first. So this is what V and I did. After the above mentioned ritual of packing our sacks and marching to the cafe, we would place ourselves in the most comfortable corner of the cafe and start our next elaborate ritual.. eating! First it would be rotis, sabji, dal with papad. Then it would be rice with rasam/sambar. Then some sweet. Then curd rice (V cant exist without this :P ). And each of these courses would have second helpings. we wouldnt be satisfied even then. Fruits would follow next. Finally when there is nothing else to eat, we would pick our sacks and march back - going fat and chubby all the while, of course :P. One day, unfortunately, we had to share our table with a few guys who spoke Telugu with each other. V and I conversed in English/Tamil and observing that, one of them, dared to comment on our food.."Ammo! Veellu enta tintunnaru! Ippudu banana kooda tintunnaru. Ganta nunchi tintunee unnaru." (My!How much would these girls eat? After all that food, they are eating bananas now and they have been eating for an hour!!). That was the end ! It hurt our feelings. our hearts cringed and turned and cried (you can add more verbs for some more spice). We decided gravely and in sorrow, took an oath. No more gluttoning, no, not at the cost of our dignity. :D. We cursed the guy would become sooooo fat that he wouldnt ever get married. How dare he ! And how poor us !

Then there was so much more. The early morning blues, bathroom struggle, discussions, PG aunty, M kutty (she used to always play my fav songs whenever we went to eat), Mungaru Male, falling in love with Sonu Nigam, the bus journey - the running,panting and sleeping, my shloka reading in the bus, SHOPPING (we shopped like crazy - mostly window shopping in big places, actual shopping in small places), staring at the Central, our pride in our first bank account and pay check, the PAN card office, running in B'lore rain, the ISKCON temple ordeal (S was left behind and we all screamed at the conductor), popcorn prasadam, GURU SONGS (all of us were crazy about "Tere Bina". We would melt and dream and cry :P ), the dhobi lady and the little kid (Umesh), the distance education supervision and extra money, the long long walks on MG road, bunking office and walking to Commercial Street (When? in the afternoons), the volvo buses, the all day bus pass, the DOGS (I hate B'lore dogs. I remember I cried when a pack of those killed a kutty boy. It was all in the papers), Mohan Nayak (Ha! V and I can never forget that guy and his "Madam.. rose madam.." lol), fights in PG, yells, tears, strikes (we wont have food in PG strike. Ha!), house hunt with S (once I remember we got scared seeing the house owner lady and ran. She looked like some.. Uf! never mind now), trips back home, train journey alone for the first time, home alone with S and all night chats, brief interludes in the y! gym and resolution to come even on weekends (which never happened), Sai Baba mandir and the walks on Sundays, creepy guys who keep calling you, turn up at ATMs and ask you to come to Cafe Coffee Day ( after which you would run for dear life)... much much more...

REALLY, it pays to be silly and stupid sometimes, in small things. Looking back, they provide the loveliest of memories. And thus today has begun and would be spent, in nostalgia.