After reaching home, I attended a naming ceremony of a nephew and met my best friend that night. It was overwhelming to see him after a couple of years, and we had no words to exchange. The first thing he told me, being a best friend is I haven’t changed much, my complexion has darkened and I looked the same as I left, whereas I was expecting it to be totally opposite.
My jet lag was taken over by the exhaustion of the day and I had a good night sleep until 11am in the morning. It was the first time in life I wasn’t bothered by my mom to get up early. I enjoyed the day doing absolutely nothing and was very happy doing that. The main reason of my trip was my cousin’s wedding. He had admonished me to be present on his wedding in any case. So, with the wedding came all the poojas and vidhis, which I had to attend almost everyday for the next week and half.
It was a Monday and I rode my motorcycle like a fifty-year-old paranoid oldie fearful of death in spite of having a sealed helmet and following each and every traffic rule. The speed never exceeded 40kmph. I could see more young faces driving newly bought without-gear scooters. The excitement reminded me of my college days when I drove my dad’s Bajaj scooter, without a helmet, in the winter fog, at 90kmph, having little or no braking functionality and without a driving license. It was a life gamble in mere excitement and the adrenalin rush of late teens. I self-acclaimed my courage and thanked the deity for keeping me alive.
I reached my mama’s house with loads of chocolates for my entire family. Everyone was pleased to see me return and instead of asking about my well being there were calculations of my changed complexion, weight and body proportion. The conclusion was that I was the same as I went. I was fearful if they’d make a presentation chart and put the exact melanin values in it. But I was happy to hear that my belly fat had reduced pretty much than before.
I opened my bag and randomly distributed the chocolates. I had bought a few wine truffle packs along with normal chocolates. Though all my family is pretty casual, some aunts made weird faces, as if they were about to puke, and asked me what the chocolate was made of. I had previously planned to distribute those wine truffles to all the mamas and the rest to my younger cousins and aunts.
Later, the aunts and sisters interrogated me if I had a white girlfriend. They assumed that it was as easy as gossiping about their new jewelry and sick neighborhood. How would they know that it takes time, patience and investment and I had neither of the three? Somehow I managed to twist the topic and we talked about my education, work and general experience of staying abroad.
While I was struggling to make up with my overwhelmed family, I also had to meet my overexcited friends. I left from my mama’s house to meet my best friends at JM road at some Chinese restaurant. That evening I realized that we’re so dependent on technology. I had no GPS to locate the restaurant, no credit in my mobile phone, in which, I had put my brother’s old SIM card.
To my amazement, the city which had coin-box-phones all over the place from communal toilets, 2’x2’ paan stalls to five start hotels in 2008, didn’t have a single in 2010. This was a cultural shock by the same culture I belonged. To add to the mess, there was a heavy rain spell unlike in the UK, where u can dare it and it won’t soak you wet. I was so drowned in water that my clothes would satisfy 5 African children if they were squashed. I wore a thin jersey, a casual jean and a pair of new leather shoes, the first most expensive of my life, and they were wet from bottom to the tip of their lace. I was neutral, happy to get soaked in warm water after a long time and sad to get my new shoes ruined.
I took a halt under a tree and waited for the rain to stop. I was trapped between two politics enthusiasts talking about the city infrastructure. I tried to squeeze in to avoid maximum rain. I heard those guys boasting themselves about their contacts, one of them rubbing his right hand on his huge belly. The other one was skinny, trying to sustain the heavy rain as if the droplets were heavier than his body weight. Their grumpy nature made them look as if they’ve just had their dinner.
The rain stopped and I found a shop with a coin-box-phone and rang my friends asking the exact address. They asked me to wait and came to pick me up. I was excited to meet everyone after a long time. We all headed to the hotel triple seated. We skipped a signal, took a U-turn past a no entry sign and skipped a policeman trying to stop us. I was so glad to be back to my roads, my world; a sense of extreme freedom thrilled me. We went to the Chinese restaurant and I ate the ‘Indian Chinese’ food, full of spices and devoid of Chinese authenticity.
My brother had acquired my bike so I had no option than the reliable public transport system. It was a cultural shock to use the bus service after so many days. It had been almost 6 years I hadn’t used the bus service after I got a bike to commute to the college.
It was 10 am in the morning, the morning rush hour of Pune. I had to go to my mama’s place for one more pooja and I chose PMT as my mode of transport. It was a pleasant struggle. I went to the bus stop where the busses for Kothrud left. I saw two conductors spitting pan and talking to each other at intervals. I asked one of them where would I get a bus to Kothrud. He was extremely grounded and did his job as always, with arrogance; he deceived my journey plans by confidently providing me the wrong information.
The bus arrives and stands 10 meters away from the bus stop. It looked like a hundred meter sprint. I along with 50 others ran towards the bus and boarded it hoping to get a seat to sit. Unaware of the amended rules, I mistakenly sat in the ladies section. After 15 minutes or so I realized that I’ve caught the wrong seat. I twisted my neck to check if I was alone and realized that I wasn’t.
I was looking at the bright sunny roads and the unlawful crowd. It seemed so much life out there. The humid breeze, the soaring heat, the suffocating pollution and continuous beeping of horns never bothered me. The conductor made the weirdest face when I gave him a hundred-rupee note. The driver seemed as if driving his personal vehicle, drifting and playing road tricks. In the 25-minute journey my knees banged the front seat a million times and my head collided with the backrest a zillion times. There was absolutely no scope for any disabled to enter the bus by any chance, even if accompanied by a healthy person.
The bus was so speedy that it stopped at least 5 meters away from every bus stop. Some bus stops seemed to have trained people to catch a running bus. The driver managed to slow down the bus to exactly the required speed for the expert climbers to take a stance and catch the bus. I think he knew stops with elders and students, so he managed the bus speed accordingly.
The most amazing part of the bus journey, I’ve always admired, is the stability of the conductor. Whatever the speed maybe, he’d never fall or his leg won’t move even an inch by the turbulence. In all this mess he’s absolutely sharp and right in his calculations. Each note in his moneybag has a touch of his saliva while being calculated, like a post employee stamps all the posts. Most of the times it seems like his intelligence limits when you offer him a five hundred-rupee note. He either asks you for the change or you should be the person who is getting off at the last stop to get the change from him.
The stop where I was supposed to get down came and I almost jumped from the running bus. I walked down to my mama’s place memorizing the series of events surrounding me in the last half an hour of my bus trip. It certainly seemed full of life.
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Friday, February 11, 2011
Monday, December 28, 2009
Feminization...
Don't get mesmerised by the title, I am neither deploying female hormones in anyone, nor is it an experiment, or some scientific hypocrisy! It's my experience about women in general, some weird, some loveable.
One thing, which might have been proven, women are born to talk, gossip and murmur. Most of these siddhis, of understanding women, were gained by me while I was in a serious relationship with my ex for an honourable 3.5 years. I was sentenced in a relationship on 29th February 2005. Because it was a leap year, with the help of my lawyers, my friends, and the judge, my girlfriend, the date was shifted to 1st of March 2005 and I was given the statement at 6.15pm at Balgandharva Rang Mandir(BRM), Pune. I know, you were expecting some romantic place, but unfortunately it was BRM. I was sentenced to indefinite relationship, until the possibility of marriage, when I said those three lovely words. I wish those were "Mera Bharat Mahan".
The years weren't as bad as I made them sound. They had quarrels and fights, love and caressing, jokes and laughter, ethics and manners as well. Talking about ethics, I remember that girls are very particular about how their boyfriend present's himself in public. I was always poked or pinched while, eating without worldly concerns, driving too fast or too slow, talking nonsense to anyone in front of her, doing nothing, having dressed too dull or too glittery. I still remember a big quarrel of ours on my eating habits, which resulted in 3 days of mental agony. We were eating "paani puri" together, and she ordered a last dish for herself, through me, which never went to her. I gulped the entire dish, in my own dreams, not realising the world, as if I've been starving for a decade. Then I realised the quantity of my mistake and the quality of quarrel to come.
A lot of girls I've befriended possess extreme characteristics. A couple of them are career oriented, bold and stern in their decisions, which usually are hard to impress. One of my friend is comfortable in not crossing her comfort zone. One job for life time, no intention of change or shift, same road to office, same vehicle, same people around, same daily routine for years. How is it possible for one to be so sternly dumb, highly boring, working in a creative environment? (being a classmate, she was a graphic designer too). I am attracted to girls who are bold, decisive and career oriented. My ex was the same, hence I felt for her. I have another friend of mine, who's bold, decisive and, instead of career, she's boyfriend oriented. She likes to change boys like, disposable nappies.
I used to be a flirt in my college days, playing pranks with my girl friends. Some girls knew it was just a prank but sometimes it used to get serious. A few girls revealed their feelings for me, a few didn't talk after that, and a few were on the verge of slapping me, until I told them that it was just a prank. Neither was I a hunk of the college, nor was I rich. I came to college on a grey coloured Bajaj's scooter, of my dad. So, only if it was a time in 70s I would have been a hip, girls running behind my scooter. Many of my girl friends never liked sitting on pillion's end. They reasoned it as being uncomfortable, but I knew, they'd certainly occupy the seat if it was a lavish motorbike. So, the verse, "girls like cash and bikes more than the person" is absolutely true. The ones who'd deny this might be in true love or something. Later on I bought a new motorbike, and each of my girl friends wanted a ride on it. Although I felt revengeful, I fulfilled theirs wishes. For one, most memorable event in my relationship, I still respect my ex. That was, while buying a new bike, I faked her that I'd be buying an ordinary bike, showing budgetary concerns. She had a simple answer and she said it without a single thought, that, I was more important to her than any materialistic thing.
A few things I've understood about women are: They expect a lot from guys. They never let out their expectations, and we have to understand those. They want a guy to be understanding, caring, supportive and entertaining at times. Most girls, like aggressive guys, even if the guy resembles a blade of grass. "Girls like shopping", is not true with me as I haven't had a deadly experience of it, even my ex wasn't shopping savvy. And, last but not the least thing I'd say is important dates. Guys who tend to forget these dates are vulnerable to a heart break.
One thing, which might have been proven, women are born to talk, gossip and murmur. Most of these siddhis, of understanding women, were gained by me while I was in a serious relationship with my ex for an honourable 3.5 years. I was sentenced in a relationship on 29th February 2005. Because it was a leap year, with the help of my lawyers, my friends, and the judge, my girlfriend, the date was shifted to 1st of March 2005 and I was given the statement at 6.15pm at Balgandharva Rang Mandir(BRM), Pune. I know, you were expecting some romantic place, but unfortunately it was BRM. I was sentenced to indefinite relationship, until the possibility of marriage, when I said those three lovely words. I wish those were "Mera Bharat Mahan".
The years weren't as bad as I made them sound. They had quarrels and fights, love and caressing, jokes and laughter, ethics and manners as well. Talking about ethics, I remember that girls are very particular about how their boyfriend present's himself in public. I was always poked or pinched while, eating without worldly concerns, driving too fast or too slow, talking nonsense to anyone in front of her, doing nothing, having dressed too dull or too glittery. I still remember a big quarrel of ours on my eating habits, which resulted in 3 days of mental agony. We were eating "paani puri" together, and she ordered a last dish for herself, through me, which never went to her. I gulped the entire dish, in my own dreams, not realising the world, as if I've been starving for a decade. Then I realised the quantity of my mistake and the quality of quarrel to come.
A lot of girls I've befriended possess extreme characteristics. A couple of them are career oriented, bold and stern in their decisions, which usually are hard to impress. One of my friend is comfortable in not crossing her comfort zone. One job for life time, no intention of change or shift, same road to office, same vehicle, same people around, same daily routine for years. How is it possible for one to be so sternly dumb, highly boring, working in a creative environment? (being a classmate, she was a graphic designer too). I am attracted to girls who are bold, decisive and career oriented. My ex was the same, hence I felt for her. I have another friend of mine, who's bold, decisive and, instead of career, she's boyfriend oriented. She likes to change boys like, disposable nappies.
I used to be a flirt in my college days, playing pranks with my girl friends. Some girls knew it was just a prank but sometimes it used to get serious. A few girls revealed their feelings for me, a few didn't talk after that, and a few were on the verge of slapping me, until I told them that it was just a prank. Neither was I a hunk of the college, nor was I rich. I came to college on a grey coloured Bajaj's scooter, of my dad. So, only if it was a time in 70s I would have been a hip, girls running behind my scooter. Many of my girl friends never liked sitting on pillion's end. They reasoned it as being uncomfortable, but I knew, they'd certainly occupy the seat if it was a lavish motorbike. So, the verse, "girls like cash and bikes more than the person" is absolutely true. The ones who'd deny this might be in true love or something. Later on I bought a new motorbike, and each of my girl friends wanted a ride on it. Although I felt revengeful, I fulfilled theirs wishes. For one, most memorable event in my relationship, I still respect my ex. That was, while buying a new bike, I faked her that I'd be buying an ordinary bike, showing budgetary concerns. She had a simple answer and she said it without a single thought, that, I was more important to her than any materialistic thing.
A few things I've understood about women are: They expect a lot from guys. They never let out their expectations, and we have to understand those. They want a guy to be understanding, caring, supportive and entertaining at times. Most girls, like aggressive guys, even if the guy resembles a blade of grass. "Girls like shopping", is not true with me as I haven't had a deadly experience of it, even my ex wasn't shopping savvy. And, last but not the least thing I'd say is important dates. Guys who tend to forget these dates are vulnerable to a heart break.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friends part 3.2
Sid and me were the first two of the six of us. The others are Mayuresh, Mandar, Tejas and Bhushan. We all had pulsar dtsi 150s and used to boast attitudes while on road for no reason. Our enthusiasm has no bondage. From emotions till brotherhood(bhaigiri) we always find a chance to enjoy ourselves.
Once I remember, we all were at Sid's place and Sid's brother came in running as some drunkards were behind him for some reason. We all went down on our banyans and pyjamas for a chance to satisfy our scratchy hands. But all was in vain. They had fled away till we reached down. I think they must have seen us coming. We all look quite healthy due to our bulkiness. We all weighed above 70 kilos and averaged of 5'9" of height. I suppose they saw us coming together.
We had weird names for each other. I am still searching a dictionary having their meanings. I am called 'Betrya', Sid is called 'Bolan Bol', Mayuresh is called 'Rapa Rap', Tejas is called 'Basla', Mandar is called 'Bevdya', and Bhushan is called 'Nari'.
Except Sid and me, we all weren't quite good friends in school. But as if it was destined, we came together after departing to our own ways. We came closer and closer until we became a compound of the chemicals used in 'Fevicol'. I remember, me and Mandya weren't best friends in school at all. Mandar had hit my head in school and I was crying as it had started paining. But thanks to him, I got a half day off from school.
Mayuresh is an enthusiast in physical activities. He is always eager in eating, trekking, exercise, biking, etc. I simply admire his commitment towards us. I recall when he had once just returned from Nashik, after his ass busting journey on his bike. Instead of going home, he directly came to the 31st Dec. night party. He was always influenced by army and wanted to be in the Indian army, but he couldn't make it there.
The best thing I recall about Mayuresh, when we're together, is his non-reactive face in our night-out parties. All of us would split his ass on a single topic every time, and that was one of his girl friend's emotional torture. He always used to entertain her in spite that we all and Mayuresh knew he would get a more better looking girl than her. He was and always is speechless on this topic. Tejas is the man who always initiates the topic.
Tejas is more a moody person than an enthusiast. He's a great ignorant of his other friends except the 5 of us. His patent statement, "I'll call you in a couple of minutes" is by heart to us. We knew the meaning and hence we never expected his call after this statement. He is an easygoing person but can sometimes stuck on one wrong thing of yours, resulting in your mental torture and the profit of the telecom service. He'd call you after short intervals until his anger is cooled down. The worst thing of Tejas, to be scared of, is his cricket shots. His eyes have no relation to the ball and his bat is destined to hit or die situation.
Mandar was always a shy, quiet person in our group. We all used to discuss in his absence about the reasons of his calmness and how we can make him express himself. He's a brilliant in mathematics and logical things but only till the academic part. He's the most bullied guy in our group, and he tolerates it only for us. He's now started cracking boring jokes, expecting us to laugh out loud.
Bhushan is the shortest guy in our group, in a sarcastic sense. He is always boasting himself up, but not with us. He is the most enthusiastic person in our group for hard drinks. He is quite straightforward and an intelligent freak.
I remember when we had been to Lonavala for 3 days, those were the most cherish-able moments of my life. We had a lot of funcohol, I mean fun and alcohol. It was my first time to get sloshed away with drinks. I was feeling like I am walking in a virtual environment, kinda video game, when we went outside for a walk in the midnight around 3 am.
We all are freaks and we don't have anything planned in our parties or hangouts. The best moments in our lives were when we used to do all the financial calculations for hours and none of them were successful. Some of us would then had to pull out excess money to save washing the dishes. I remember the day when we returned from Lonavala, we had around 5-10 Rs each kept safely for the bus tickets. But now all are working and wouldn't mind spending thousands of rupees in funcohol.
In all of us, only Tejas is committed and I am the experienced, kinda having a degree in girlfriend management as being in a relationship for 3.5 years. Sid also has a short experience of having a girlfriend, but his was like a two month certificate program. We all adore and respect Tejas's relationship. Mayuresh is in desperate search, and Mandar is out of the love, relationship scenario.
These characters are a metaphorical representation of my life. I am desperately waiting for the next funcohol.
from L to R
Bhushan, Mandar, Siddharth, Mayuresh, Me, Tejas
Once I remember, we all were at Sid's place and Sid's brother came in running as some drunkards were behind him for some reason. We all went down on our banyans and pyjamas for a chance to satisfy our scratchy hands. But all was in vain. They had fled away till we reached down. I think they must have seen us coming. We all look quite healthy due to our bulkiness. We all weighed above 70 kilos and averaged of 5'9" of height. I suppose they saw us coming together.
We had weird names for each other. I am still searching a dictionary having their meanings. I am called 'Betrya', Sid is called 'Bolan Bol', Mayuresh is called 'Rapa Rap', Tejas is called 'Basla', Mandar is called 'Bevdya', and Bhushan is called 'Nari'.
Except Sid and me, we all weren't quite good friends in school. But as if it was destined, we came together after departing to our own ways. We came closer and closer until we became a compound of the chemicals used in 'Fevicol'. I remember, me and Mandya weren't best friends in school at all. Mandar had hit my head in school and I was crying as it had started paining. But thanks to him, I got a half day off from school.
Mayuresh is an enthusiast in physical activities. He is always eager in eating, trekking, exercise, biking, etc. I simply admire his commitment towards us. I recall when he had once just returned from Nashik, after his ass busting journey on his bike. Instead of going home, he directly came to the 31st Dec. night party. He was always influenced by army and wanted to be in the Indian army, but he couldn't make it there.
The best thing I recall about Mayuresh, when we're together, is his non-reactive face in our night-out parties. All of us would split his ass on a single topic every time, and that was one of his girl friend's emotional torture. He always used to entertain her in spite that we all and Mayuresh knew he would get a more better looking girl than her. He was and always is speechless on this topic. Tejas is the man who always initiates the topic.
Tejas is more a moody person than an enthusiast. He's a great ignorant of his other friends except the 5 of us. His patent statement, "I'll call you in a couple of minutes" is by heart to us. We knew the meaning and hence we never expected his call after this statement. He is an easygoing person but can sometimes stuck on one wrong thing of yours, resulting in your mental torture and the profit of the telecom service. He'd call you after short intervals until his anger is cooled down. The worst thing of Tejas, to be scared of, is his cricket shots. His eyes have no relation to the ball and his bat is destined to hit or die situation.
Mandar was always a shy, quiet person in our group. We all used to discuss in his absence about the reasons of his calmness and how we can make him express himself. He's a brilliant in mathematics and logical things but only till the academic part. He's the most bullied guy in our group, and he tolerates it only for us. He's now started cracking boring jokes, expecting us to laugh out loud.
Bhushan is the shortest guy in our group, in a sarcastic sense. He is always boasting himself up, but not with us. He is the most enthusiastic person in our group for hard drinks. He is quite straightforward and an intelligent freak.
I remember when we had been to Lonavala for 3 days, those were the most cherish-able moments of my life. We had a lot of funcohol, I mean fun and alcohol. It was my first time to get sloshed away with drinks. I was feeling like I am walking in a virtual environment, kinda video game, when we went outside for a walk in the midnight around 3 am.
We all are freaks and we don't have anything planned in our parties or hangouts. The best moments in our lives were when we used to do all the financial calculations for hours and none of them were successful. Some of us would then had to pull out excess money to save washing the dishes. I remember the day when we returned from Lonavala, we had around 5-10 Rs each kept safely for the bus tickets. But now all are working and wouldn't mind spending thousands of rupees in funcohol.
In all of us, only Tejas is committed and I am the experienced, kinda having a degree in girlfriend management as being in a relationship for 3.5 years. Sid also has a short experience of having a girlfriend, but his was like a two month certificate program. We all adore and respect Tejas's relationship. Mayuresh is in desperate search, and Mandar is out of the love, relationship scenario.
These characters are a metaphorical representation of my life. I am desperately waiting for the next funcohol.
from L to R
Bhushan, Mandar, Siddharth, Mayuresh, Me, Tejas
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Friends part 3.1: The six gems
This is one more glimpse to the nostalgic memory lane in the city of my life. We are six, rocking, sturdy guys extricating fun from our lives. Stating us as rocking and sturdy has an evidence and its not a boast.
The lane starts with our school days, it starts with my langotiya yaar, Siddharth. We were the bestest friends since birth. The only distant thing between us is age, a couple of months, nothing else. We first met when I was nine months old and he was six. It was the occasion of Haldi Kunku at my home, when his mom had come to visit my place. I cannot remember our chat that time, I guess it would have been a recitation of a couple of vowels like aaaaeeeeiiiiioooouuuuu, as most of the infants do. The next time it was a general visit to each other's places as we also used to stay quite close-by.
In school we used to sit besides each other, ate our lunch together, and play together as well. I still remember that he always used to bully me and make fun of me, and that was always related to my studies and my lack of interest in sports. We never had a fight on that issue, and he still does that. I knew and I still know that all that he did was to help me realise my potential and be a sturdy guy in school. I still remember, it was my 1st grade, when he admonished me to beat up a guy who was making fun of me. I had beaten up the first person in my life. As days passed on and as we reached higher grades, I was quite strong and well in academics.
I still remember, we used to sleep during boring periods in spite of sitting on the first bench. There was a technique, keep your hands on the sides of your eyes, rest the elbows on the desk and put the related textbook between the elbows. Now we used to close our eyes. It appeared as if we were reading notes, but we were actually fast asleep. The interval bell was our alarm.
We also used to steal chalks from the teacher's desk and we had around 200 (approx.) chalks at the end of the year. We used to bully a thin guy from our class and we had also complained that he stole all the chalks. We used to push each other from the desk and empower ourselves. The best thing I still remember was, two of us had started planting trees in our school ground after a lecture by some ecologist. We used our water bags to pour water everyday in the recess.
We both were die-hard fans of the Batman cartoon serial on cartoon network and that was the prime topic of our discussion after reaching school each day. We were so influenced by the powers of batman that we had also planned to start our own detective agency, post graduation. We planned work schedule, finances and strategies to make the country a better place. The name of our project was HB. We had sketched how our costume would look like and the secret weapons in it. It was a top secret for us. We used to exercise hard everyday, measure our biceps and count the repetitions.
We used different unique telephone etiquette. We used to blow air and make a kind of farting sound on the speaker instead of saying hello. This started when we learned about the invention of telephone by Alexander Graham Bell and also discovered about the early telephone etiquette.
We separated for our careers in different streams after school, but our friendship's track didn't go separate ways. I can compare it with a rail track, which is always equally distant from each other but still goes parallel till the end. This distance can be stated as freedom or independence. We never enforced our views on each other. We gave each other the respect for our own views and also well understood our needs from each other.
We always had fun together. We rode Sid's bike at 80 kph on the busy streets of FC road just to reach a movie on time. 75% out of all the movies I have seen, were with Sid. Once we disobeyed 5 signals, we tricked 3 policemen and we exceeded the normal speed limits to 80-85 kph, on our Pulsar DTSi 150s, on the busy streets of the city in the morning at 9 am, just to watch Die Hard 4. We were influenced by iron man and recalled our HB memories. We laughed in the theatre loudly while watching Dhoom 2. We recently invented 4th, 5th and 6th law of gravity after contradicting Newton existing laws. Those laws are high in vulgarity and hence cannot be elaborated here.
He was always there for me whenever, wherever I needed him. Just a call away was the distance. He would just put behind his existing work, degrading its importance if I am in any trouble. The only worst thing is when he's angry. He won't speak a word, pick up a call and hide somewhere when I go at his place. He would take his time to calm down and then put a message, full of emotions and bitterness. This was for me only. If someone else, not amongst his friends-list, is a victim of his anger that person would never ever dare to call or meet him again. Sid would either beat him up or if its a girl she'd have a neat firing of words. That also doesn't mean that he's rude to others. He's just right at the right moment.
We never cribbed nor we sought or boasted our friendship in front of each other and others. Its an unspoken, unwritten understanding between us. We are HB, the Hardy Boys.
To be continued...
The lane starts with our school days, it starts with my langotiya yaar, Siddharth. We were the bestest friends since birth. The only distant thing between us is age, a couple of months, nothing else. We first met when I was nine months old and he was six. It was the occasion of Haldi Kunku at my home, when his mom had come to visit my place. I cannot remember our chat that time, I guess it would have been a recitation of a couple of vowels like aaaaeeeeiiiiioooouuuuu, as most of the infants do. The next time it was a general visit to each other's places as we also used to stay quite close-by.
In school we used to sit besides each other, ate our lunch together, and play together as well. I still remember that he always used to bully me and make fun of me, and that was always related to my studies and my lack of interest in sports. We never had a fight on that issue, and he still does that. I knew and I still know that all that he did was to help me realise my potential and be a sturdy guy in school. I still remember, it was my 1st grade, when he admonished me to beat up a guy who was making fun of me. I had beaten up the first person in my life. As days passed on and as we reached higher grades, I was quite strong and well in academics.
I still remember, we used to sleep during boring periods in spite of sitting on the first bench. There was a technique, keep your hands on the sides of your eyes, rest the elbows on the desk and put the related textbook between the elbows. Now we used to close our eyes. It appeared as if we were reading notes, but we were actually fast asleep. The interval bell was our alarm.
We also used to steal chalks from the teacher's desk and we had around 200 (approx.) chalks at the end of the year. We used to bully a thin guy from our class and we had also complained that he stole all the chalks. We used to push each other from the desk and empower ourselves. The best thing I still remember was, two of us had started planting trees in our school ground after a lecture by some ecologist. We used our water bags to pour water everyday in the recess.
We both were die-hard fans of the Batman cartoon serial on cartoon network and that was the prime topic of our discussion after reaching school each day. We were so influenced by the powers of batman that we had also planned to start our own detective agency, post graduation. We planned work schedule, finances and strategies to make the country a better place. The name of our project was HB. We had sketched how our costume would look like and the secret weapons in it. It was a top secret for us. We used to exercise hard everyday, measure our biceps and count the repetitions.
We used different unique telephone etiquette. We used to blow air and make a kind of farting sound on the speaker instead of saying hello. This started when we learned about the invention of telephone by Alexander Graham Bell and also discovered about the early telephone etiquette.
We separated for our careers in different streams after school, but our friendship's track didn't go separate ways. I can compare it with a rail track, which is always equally distant from each other but still goes parallel till the end. This distance can be stated as freedom or independence. We never enforced our views on each other. We gave each other the respect for our own views and also well understood our needs from each other.
We always had fun together. We rode Sid's bike at 80 kph on the busy streets of FC road just to reach a movie on time. 75% out of all the movies I have seen, were with Sid. Once we disobeyed 5 signals, we tricked 3 policemen and we exceeded the normal speed limits to 80-85 kph, on our Pulsar DTSi 150s, on the busy streets of the city in the morning at 9 am, just to watch Die Hard 4. We were influenced by iron man and recalled our HB memories. We laughed in the theatre loudly while watching Dhoom 2. We recently invented 4th, 5th and 6th law of gravity after contradicting Newton existing laws. Those laws are high in vulgarity and hence cannot be elaborated here.
He was always there for me whenever, wherever I needed him. Just a call away was the distance. He would just put behind his existing work, degrading its importance if I am in any trouble. The only worst thing is when he's angry. He won't speak a word, pick up a call and hide somewhere when I go at his place. He would take his time to calm down and then put a message, full of emotions and bitterness. This was for me only. If someone else, not amongst his friends-list, is a victim of his anger that person would never ever dare to call or meet him again. Sid would either beat him up or if its a girl she'd have a neat firing of words. That also doesn't mean that he's rude to others. He's just right at the right moment.
We never cribbed nor we sought or boasted our friendship in front of each other and others. Its an unspoken, unwritten understanding between us. We are HB, the Hardy Boys.
To be continued...
Friday, March 6, 2009
Friends Part 2 - The Fighters
I am continuing another set of nostalgic memories with my classmates. I should rather publish a book instead of writing this blog, as those memories are vast.
You would think why the name "fighters"? the mystery behind this heading is that this story again has three main characters including me, rather best buddies from my class in Abhinav College, Sahil and Abhishek. Basically, we were die-hard fans of Arnie(Arnold Shwazzeneger), and Sylvy(Sylvester Stalone). We always used to compare ourselves with each other and boast our muscles. My muscles were all hidden under excess fat, still trying to convince myself that no, something's still present inside. I still remember ourselves bluffing, Abhya and me used to bluff like rabbits are discussing how to eat a lion. Abhya was once boasting that, all the busses, on a bus stop he was standing, were forced back a couple of miles due to his sneeze. I was not a noble listener to his bluff and in my reply I told him that the earth rotates because I walk and jog everyday. We both used to have these chats in front of Sahil and I can still remember his expressions. We knew, we were childish, immature but the fun and humour was our bond. We didn't care how many people are listening to this rubbish. We were always happy.
Abhya is a bit darker in his complexion but lighter in heart. He was a muscular hunk in our class, full of rage and anger. I still remember his eyes when he had a quarrel with a guy. But gradually he changed, rather gained maturity with time and is more patient, calm than ever, now. We met in my first year, as destined to be best buddies we never had a quarrel, though a few misunderstandings were apparent as everybody does. But those never mattered in our friendship.
The best thing in our lives, I would never ever forget is that we were Karan and Arjun, from Rakesh Roshan's hit film "Karan Arjun". Abhya was Karan and I was Arjun. I still remember, everyday when we arrived in the college and saw each other, we used to pull our sleeves up in a disguise of checking something tattooed on our forearms, like the scenes in old bollywood flicks, and then shout loudly "Bhaiiya"(Brother). I used to shout, "Bhaiiya Karan"(Brother Karan) and he used to say " Bhaiiya Arjun" (Brother Arjun), resulting in a hug. We were supposed to be departed brothers from the so called "Kumbh ka mela". Sahil was our "bichda hua"(departed) third brother. We still do that when we meet.
Once, Abhya called me for a cd of windows xp. I didn't have it but I was reluctant to say no directly, so in a humorous tone I asked him to call and ask Billu(Bill Gates). His response was out of the world, the most gut-busting thing I have ever heard. He simply said that Billu himself had borrowed a pirated cd of Windows 98 from him yesterday. We were laughing for around 15 minutes on the phone. We also used to have giggly fights on comparison of his muscles and my fat. When ever he used to show his biceps after rejoining the gym, I used to call them as pimples. Both Sahil and Abhya used to call my belly fat as a huge packet of biscuits resting down, waiting for the right moment to tighten up.
We were, insane, inhuman and brutal sometimes in our humour. I still remember, we had ruined the names of all the people in our class. We had started calling all the girls, modifying their names to male names and modifying guys' names into girls'. For instance, I was called Ketaki, Abhya was Abhilasha and Sahil was Sayali. In girls, Amruta was Amrut, Sneha and Shrutika were called Suryakant1 and 2 recpectively and so on. Our final examination, the last examination of our group was hilarious, full of fun and serious, sincere work as well. Even if we busted all the people in our class with prankish comments, we never exceeded our limits.
Sahil, we call him, Sandu. He is a dude, a fine artist, in spite of being lazy and a procrastinator he was always the best in academics. Me and Sahil had one thing in common, we never attended classes on time. On an average we used to be 1-2 hours late. Once we weren't allowed to sit for the mid term examination as we had not managed according to the college timetable. We were simply following our own timetable. The next day, without any interruption in our personal schedule we were a bit early. The first day was 2.5 hours late, but the next day we were 2 hours late. Our professor was astonished by our courtesy to come half an hour early. He was full of anger, frustration and anxiety as well. He didn't know that we were fighters, we didn't even spare our graduation exam. There we used to be 10-15 minutes late, though it was much better than earlier.
Sahil and his Ambition. Don't get me wrong, ambition is his 135 cc, Honda bike, which suffered more than those starving africans. Sahil was an expert in wheelies, stoppies and accidents. I thank god nothing major happened and I pray that it wont. The best thing for him is that he recently bought a new Yamaha bike, which is eventually the worst thing for his new bike. I don't remember the name but its the recent one with 160cc engine and 73k Rs.
I still remember our graduation exam, we used to sit beside each other. We were always laughing, cracking practical jokes, shouting and also working at the same time during the exam. There was one classmate, Amruta Saraswate, who was sitting just beside us. She was continuously laughing on our comments, almost rolling on the floor. Later, she used to laugh if even our names were taken by someone. I felt, we were so much influential.
Broadening memories, I recall when Sahil and me used to talk about the world, currencies, and behave in such a way that world is running on our words. We used to call all the politicians, presidents and prime ministers as our friends and would do anything for us. It was hilarious when we boasted our views regarding ruling the world. I used to say that, I was actually going to run the American government but at the final moment, I wanted to concentrate more on my graduation, so I just opposed the offer. Sahil, after my statement would state in affirmation that, he actually passed the offer to me and it was him who was actually going to run America, showing his fake wholeheartedness.
Sahil and Abhya were again the best buddies from my class and the thing I adore again is our informality. We usually don't say "hello" when we call each other, but we tend to change the universal phone etiquette by saying "a bhadya". Sahil and Abhya were my best friends not only because they were humorous or we had fun together, but also because we also shared our life.
We actually are like three brothers, departed from each other in our childhood and Abhinav college was our "Kumbh ka mela", which brought us together.
You would think why the name "fighters"? the mystery behind this heading is that this story again has three main characters including me, rather best buddies from my class in Abhinav College, Sahil and Abhishek. Basically, we were die-hard fans of Arnie(Arnold Shwazzeneger), and Sylvy(Sylvester Stalone). We always used to compare ourselves with each other and boast our muscles. My muscles were all hidden under excess fat, still trying to convince myself that no, something's still present inside. I still remember ourselves bluffing, Abhya and me used to bluff like rabbits are discussing how to eat a lion. Abhya was once boasting that, all the busses, on a bus stop he was standing, were forced back a couple of miles due to his sneeze. I was not a noble listener to his bluff and in my reply I told him that the earth rotates because I walk and jog everyday. We both used to have these chats in front of Sahil and I can still remember his expressions. We knew, we were childish, immature but the fun and humour was our bond. We didn't care how many people are listening to this rubbish. We were always happy.
Abhya is a bit darker in his complexion but lighter in heart. He was a muscular hunk in our class, full of rage and anger. I still remember his eyes when he had a quarrel with a guy. But gradually he changed, rather gained maturity with time and is more patient, calm than ever, now. We met in my first year, as destined to be best buddies we never had a quarrel, though a few misunderstandings were apparent as everybody does. But those never mattered in our friendship.
The best thing in our lives, I would never ever forget is that we were Karan and Arjun, from Rakesh Roshan's hit film "Karan Arjun". Abhya was Karan and I was Arjun. I still remember, everyday when we arrived in the college and saw each other, we used to pull our sleeves up in a disguise of checking something tattooed on our forearms, like the scenes in old bollywood flicks, and then shout loudly "Bhaiiya"(Brother). I used to shout, "Bhaiiya Karan"(Brother Karan) and he used to say " Bhaiiya Arjun" (Brother Arjun), resulting in a hug. We were supposed to be departed brothers from the so called "Kumbh ka mela". Sahil was our "bichda hua"(departed) third brother. We still do that when we meet.
Once, Abhya called me for a cd of windows xp. I didn't have it but I was reluctant to say no directly, so in a humorous tone I asked him to call and ask Billu(Bill Gates). His response was out of the world, the most gut-busting thing I have ever heard. He simply said that Billu himself had borrowed a pirated cd of Windows 98 from him yesterday. We were laughing for around 15 minutes on the phone. We also used to have giggly fights on comparison of his muscles and my fat. When ever he used to show his biceps after rejoining the gym, I used to call them as pimples. Both Sahil and Abhya used to call my belly fat as a huge packet of biscuits resting down, waiting for the right moment to tighten up.
We were, insane, inhuman and brutal sometimes in our humour. I still remember, we had ruined the names of all the people in our class. We had started calling all the girls, modifying their names to male names and modifying guys' names into girls'. For instance, I was called Ketaki, Abhya was Abhilasha and Sahil was Sayali. In girls, Amruta was Amrut, Sneha and Shrutika were called Suryakant1 and 2 recpectively and so on. Our final examination, the last examination of our group was hilarious, full of fun and serious, sincere work as well. Even if we busted all the people in our class with prankish comments, we never exceeded our limits.
Sahil, we call him, Sandu. He is a dude, a fine artist, in spite of being lazy and a procrastinator he was always the best in academics. Me and Sahil had one thing in common, we never attended classes on time. On an average we used to be 1-2 hours late. Once we weren't allowed to sit for the mid term examination as we had not managed according to the college timetable. We were simply following our own timetable. The next day, without any interruption in our personal schedule we were a bit early. The first day was 2.5 hours late, but the next day we were 2 hours late. Our professor was astonished by our courtesy to come half an hour early. He was full of anger, frustration and anxiety as well. He didn't know that we were fighters, we didn't even spare our graduation exam. There we used to be 10-15 minutes late, though it was much better than earlier.
Sahil and his Ambition. Don't get me wrong, ambition is his 135 cc, Honda bike, which suffered more than those starving africans. Sahil was an expert in wheelies, stoppies and accidents. I thank god nothing major happened and I pray that it wont. The best thing for him is that he recently bought a new Yamaha bike, which is eventually the worst thing for his new bike. I don't remember the name but its the recent one with 160cc engine and 73k Rs.
I still remember our graduation exam, we used to sit beside each other. We were always laughing, cracking practical jokes, shouting and also working at the same time during the exam. There was one classmate, Amruta Saraswate, who was sitting just beside us. She was continuously laughing on our comments, almost rolling on the floor. Later, she used to laugh if even our names were taken by someone. I felt, we were so much influential.
Broadening memories, I recall when Sahil and me used to talk about the world, currencies, and behave in such a way that world is running on our words. We used to call all the politicians, presidents and prime ministers as our friends and would do anything for us. It was hilarious when we boasted our views regarding ruling the world. I used to say that, I was actually going to run the American government but at the final moment, I wanted to concentrate more on my graduation, so I just opposed the offer. Sahil, after my statement would state in affirmation that, he actually passed the offer to me and it was him who was actually going to run America, showing his fake wholeheartedness.
Sahil and Abhya were again the best buddies from my class and the thing I adore again is our informality. We usually don't say "hello" when we call each other, but we tend to change the universal phone etiquette by saying "a bhadya". Sahil and Abhya were my best friends not only because they were humorous or we had fun together, but also because we also shared our life.
We actually are like three brothers, departed from each other in our childhood and Abhinav college was our "Kumbh ka mela", which brought us together.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Dil Chahta Hai
I watched the evergreen film, 'Dil Chahta Hai', today. I couldn't resist to recall the happiest moments of my life with my two best buddies, Viraj and Mandar.
It was the first year of my college, the foundation year, with new people, new environment, new world. I was no more than a kid. I met Mandar, who was studying in the third year, on the Swargate bustop, where I used to board the bus sharp at 6.40 am. Me and Mandy, become close friends in a short time, as if it was destined to happen. Later in a couple of months, I met Viraj, who was studying same as Mandy. Viraj used to boast himself in front of the first year students like he always did, every year.
Mandy and Viraj were kind of elder brothers for me. They used to imitate my innocence, bust me off watching dirty assignments, and also help me impressing a girl. I recall incidences when I used to call them all of a sudden in a serious manner. We would have a meeting and my disclosure was that I was in love. Later, it became habitual for them. We experienced all human senses in extremes, emotions, laughter, fights.These two bastards used to visit my classroom in a disguise of giving a demo of their work. Their actual motive was to impress the girls in my class. Once measured our biceps at Mandy's place, I remember, Viraj was the strongest in size and strength.
Mandy was a flirt, he used to experience all different kinds of girls, as if a doctor is performing multiple DNA tests. He was the most impressed and happening person in our families as well. He was a resemblance to studiousness made by my parents. Of course they didn't know the hidden facts. He was a mastermind in uniting couples, he was always busy giving advices and suggestions to guys on this subject. He was the most hated person by the teaching department in our college.
All these things never mattered in our friendship. I never cared, nor do I now, about what he did to other girls, guys, or any other mystery he has not revealed to us. I only cared about his friendship with me and Viraj. That was always intact and the strongest. I still can't believe that he got married a couple of months back!
Viraj, was always an expert in computers. He was patient yet an angry young man. Me and Viraj are working together since 6 years now, on many different projects. The best experience we had together was when we met Dr. A. P. J. Abdul Kalam, the honourable former president of India. We also have a couple of photographs with the honourable president.
I call Viraj, "Bhauji". I don't remember when I had his naming ceremony done, but he likes it as well. He was in an unprecedented love with a girl in our college, for four years. He fought, yelled, slapped Mandy outraging his anger in support of his love, but that never affected our friendship.
You would think that why am I boasting our friendship and relating it to the classy bollywood flick, 'Dil Chahta Hai'? The answer is that we had absolutely similar incidences, except we never went to Goa. I think Farhan Akhtar stole our story and added Goa to hide his conspiracy.
Instantiating the characters from the film their resemblance with three of us, Mandy was comparable to Akash, Viraj to Sid and Me to Sameer. Clarifying the earlier facts, one: Mandy wasn't ever serious in girls except flirting, two: he was slapped by Viraj, which was consequential to a quarrel on Viraj's unprecedented and one sided love, three: he had to go to his wife's home (before marriage) to ask for permission of marriage in front of her huge joint family, four: he was never serious in anything until marriage. Considering Viraj, one: he has limited hair on his head, two: he is understanding, controlled, creative, three: he slapped Mandy. About me, one: I was always in serious love with many girls, which were all infatuations of the colourful college life. Two: I was always a mediator in Mandy and Viraj's grudges, helping them to resolve their disputes and enjoy the threesome beauty of our friendship.
I remember a couple incidences when, me and Viraj went at Mandy's place for submissions in my first year. The environment resembled to the scene in DCH when, Sid(Akshaye Khanna) presents his artwork to Sameer(Saif) and Aakash(Aamir). We had colours spread all over, brushes lying down, two or three containers full of water ready to get spilled on the floor, while working on our assignments.
We used to laugh out loud, creating scenes in the public without being shameful. Our typical 'Katta' was Sarasbaug. I remember once Mandy had bought all the balloons from a balloon seller to gift them to some of his girlfriend. That was hilarious. We used to sit, sleep, play, roll on the grassy landscapes in the garden. The chats used to last for hours, without keeping any relation with the existence of time. They comprehended, serious family matters, girlfriend experiences or even a lecture on seduction points of women, by professor Mandy.
Both of these bastards didn't have a specific time to visit my place; one of the informality I adore, which kept our bond intact. We used to eat 10 samosas each sometimes when we were at my place. Amrit sweets near my place was almost irresistible to the three of us. Years passed without disturbing or interfering our friendship or even weakening it. Even if I call Mandy or Viraj after a couple of months, years or decades, the tone and informality of speech is and, I am sure, will be the same.
The last time I met them was on the airport before departing from India. In the morning that day, I was the most angry, I had ever been in my life. The reason was Viraj and Mandy had refused to meet me or come to the airport. The said they were a lot busy in their respective work. I felt like something was fishy, but my anger didn't let me keep a hope of them meeting me. Unless they arrived at the airport directly, one and a half hours before my check in, totally surprising me. I was the most happiest person on the earth, I felt. I was overwhelmed with happiness by their presence. I was almost in tears, but these were 'Khooshi ke aasu',(tears of happiness). They neither said bye or good luck nor did they wish me luck for my future prospects. We exchanged a firm hug and then they just admonished me to make a girlfriend as soon as possible and... (censored)
I think that's what make us different!
"ya toh ye foto 3D hai ya fir humari dosti gehri hai" - bad joke! :)
It was the first year of my college, the foundation year, with new people, new environment, new world. I was no more than a kid. I met Mandar, who was studying in the third year, on the Swargate bustop, where I used to board the bus sharp at 6.40 am. Me and Mandy, become close friends in a short time, as if it was destined to happen. Later in a couple of months, I met Viraj, who was studying same as Mandy. Viraj used to boast himself in front of the first year students like he always did, every year.
Mandy and Viraj were kind of elder brothers for me. They used to imitate my innocence, bust me off watching dirty assignments, and also help me impressing a girl. I recall incidences when I used to call them all of a sudden in a serious manner. We would have a meeting and my disclosure was that I was in love. Later, it became habitual for them. We experienced all human senses in extremes, emotions, laughter, fights.These two bastards used to visit my classroom in a disguise of giving a demo of their work. Their actual motive was to impress the girls in my class. Once measured our biceps at Mandy's place, I remember, Viraj was the strongest in size and strength.
Mandy was a flirt, he used to experience all different kinds of girls, as if a doctor is performing multiple DNA tests. He was the most impressed and happening person in our families as well. He was a resemblance to studiousness made by my parents. Of course they didn't know the hidden facts. He was a mastermind in uniting couples, he was always busy giving advices and suggestions to guys on this subject. He was the most hated person by the teaching department in our college.
All these things never mattered in our friendship. I never cared, nor do I now, about what he did to other girls, guys, or any other mystery he has not revealed to us. I only cared about his friendship with me and Viraj. That was always intact and the strongest. I still can't believe that he got married a couple of months back!
Viraj, was always an expert in computers. He was patient yet an angry young man. Me and Viraj are working together since 6 years now, on many different projects. The best experience we had together was when we met Dr. A. P. J. Abdul Kalam, the honourable former president of India. We also have a couple of photographs with the honourable president.
I call Viraj, "Bhauji". I don't remember when I had his naming ceremony done, but he likes it as well. He was in an unprecedented love with a girl in our college, for four years. He fought, yelled, slapped Mandy outraging his anger in support of his love, but that never affected our friendship.
You would think that why am I boasting our friendship and relating it to the classy bollywood flick, 'Dil Chahta Hai'? The answer is that we had absolutely similar incidences, except we never went to Goa. I think Farhan Akhtar stole our story and added Goa to hide his conspiracy.
Instantiating the characters from the film their resemblance with three of us, Mandy was comparable to Akash, Viraj to Sid and Me to Sameer. Clarifying the earlier facts, one: Mandy wasn't ever serious in girls except flirting, two: he was slapped by Viraj, which was consequential to a quarrel on Viraj's unprecedented and one sided love, three: he had to go to his wife's home (before marriage) to ask for permission of marriage in front of her huge joint family, four: he was never serious in anything until marriage. Considering Viraj, one: he has limited hair on his head, two: he is understanding, controlled, creative, three: he slapped Mandy. About me, one: I was always in serious love with many girls, which were all infatuations of the colourful college life. Two: I was always a mediator in Mandy and Viraj's grudges, helping them to resolve their disputes and enjoy the threesome beauty of our friendship.
I remember a couple incidences when, me and Viraj went at Mandy's place for submissions in my first year. The environment resembled to the scene in DCH when, Sid(Akshaye Khanna) presents his artwork to Sameer(Saif) and Aakash(Aamir). We had colours spread all over, brushes lying down, two or three containers full of water ready to get spilled on the floor, while working on our assignments.
We used to laugh out loud, creating scenes in the public without being shameful. Our typical 'Katta' was Sarasbaug. I remember once Mandy had bought all the balloons from a balloon seller to gift them to some of his girlfriend. That was hilarious. We used to sit, sleep, play, roll on the grassy landscapes in the garden. The chats used to last for hours, without keeping any relation with the existence of time. They comprehended, serious family matters, girlfriend experiences or even a lecture on seduction points of women, by professor Mandy.
Both of these bastards didn't have a specific time to visit my place; one of the informality I adore, which kept our bond intact. We used to eat 10 samosas each sometimes when we were at my place. Amrit sweets near my place was almost irresistible to the three of us. Years passed without disturbing or interfering our friendship or even weakening it. Even if I call Mandy or Viraj after a couple of months, years or decades, the tone and informality of speech is and, I am sure, will be the same.
The last time I met them was on the airport before departing from India. In the morning that day, I was the most angry, I had ever been in my life. The reason was Viraj and Mandy had refused to meet me or come to the airport. The said they were a lot busy in their respective work. I felt like something was fishy, but my anger didn't let me keep a hope of them meeting me. Unless they arrived at the airport directly, one and a half hours before my check in, totally surprising me. I was the most happiest person on the earth, I felt. I was overwhelmed with happiness by their presence. I was almost in tears, but these were 'Khooshi ke aasu',(tears of happiness). They neither said bye or good luck nor did they wish me luck for my future prospects. We exchanged a firm hug and then they just admonished me to make a girlfriend as soon as possible and... (censored)
I think that's what make us different!
"ya toh ye foto 3D hai ya fir humari dosti gehri hai" - bad joke! :)
Monday, February 23, 2009
My cricket career...
I get quite nostalgic when I recall the moments of playing cricket in our society. I call it my gully cricket career. I want to share the passion of 6 of us(me and my friends) to play cricket and the agony of the elders in our society caused by us.
My Gully Cricket career started when I was in the 3rd standard of school. We used to play a series tournaments, usually during the after hours of our exams. Who said ball and bat are mandatory to play cricket? We used a writing pad and a ball made with handkerchiefs to play cricket. We had a cricket stadium specially architected for us to play cricket after school. It was a durga mata temple.
We had six different stadiums in our society. First one was in the parking of my building. This stadium was a compact one and we just had a chance for leg-side strokes for single, doubles and boundaries. No straight shot was allowed as it was the house of our watchman. Offside was a canal and backside was a bloody witch who used to eat our cricket balls. It was closed down by the cruel societians by allegedly parking their vehicles between our cricket pitch.
The second one was, in one of my friend's bungalow. It was a nice, safe area and free from elder's conspiracy to stop our play. It was all well until I - inspired by some Indo-Pak tournament - took the responsibility of breaking two consecutive windowpanes. My friend's family finally outraged their agony and their long lasted patience was over.
The third one was one of our friend's terrace. It was the best place to play cricket, no pressure of breaking windowpanes, no disturbance of vehicles. The only problem occurred was when the ball was shot out of the terrace. The person responsible for the stroke was also responsible to go 3 floors down and climb up with the current or a new ball on his own expenses. In spite of the immense physical labour of bringing the ball up, climbing the stairs, the batsman used to be declared as out. It was a strict rule in the terrace stadium. This was all going well, until my friend, who was living on the last floor below the terrace, complained of the plaster falling off from his roof. It was emphasised more as one night the plaster fell on his father's nose, which led him to stop our play in immediacy.
The fourth stadium was granted to us by the government, after watching our agony and passion for cricket. We started playing on the roads. Now that was well going, we had a big space, long boundaries, and we were able to play with full-pitch bowling. It was again my honour of breaking the fourth and fifth windowpane. The fifth stroke was so hardly and blindly hit that the glass was shattered in innumerable pieces, some falling into the house and some outside. This resulted in sacrificing my cricket bat for halal to the house owner. The anger of the house owner was so immense that we fled leaving all our cricket kit there itself. We lost our three new wooden stumps, two bats and three tennis balls. One of our younger players also lost his new pair of floaters in the attempt of fleeing. That poor guy was just removing the dirt from them while waiting in the resting area.
Then the sixth and the last stadium was on the other side of road. Same things happened. We weren't mature enough to learn from the history and it repeated itself almost 6 times, this was the sixth one. One of my friend and me distributed the responsibility of hitting the belly of a mid 40s women and breaking a windowpane respectively. That was the time when we felt like the societians would commit a satyagraha for us to quit playing cricket. The agony of that women was immense as the ball we were using that time was a plastic one. We fled as usual, and the news reached our parents. Most of us were beaten up by our mums or dads as our parents were unwilling to pay the expenditure of replacing the windowpanes.
Finally we were granted a legal permission to use the terrace stadium as my friend's father had fixed the roof with new cement plaster.
My Gully Cricket career started when I was in the 3rd standard of school. We used to play a series tournaments, usually during the after hours of our exams. Who said ball and bat are mandatory to play cricket? We used a writing pad and a ball made with handkerchiefs to play cricket. We had a cricket stadium specially architected for us to play cricket after school. It was a durga mata temple.
We had six different stadiums in our society. First one was in the parking of my building. This stadium was a compact one and we just had a chance for leg-side strokes for single, doubles and boundaries. No straight shot was allowed as it was the house of our watchman. Offside was a canal and backside was a bloody witch who used to eat our cricket balls. It was closed down by the cruel societians by allegedly parking their vehicles between our cricket pitch.
The second one was, in one of my friend's bungalow. It was a nice, safe area and free from elder's conspiracy to stop our play. It was all well until I - inspired by some Indo-Pak tournament - took the responsibility of breaking two consecutive windowpanes. My friend's family finally outraged their agony and their long lasted patience was over.
The third one was one of our friend's terrace. It was the best place to play cricket, no pressure of breaking windowpanes, no disturbance of vehicles. The only problem occurred was when the ball was shot out of the terrace. The person responsible for the stroke was also responsible to go 3 floors down and climb up with the current or a new ball on his own expenses. In spite of the immense physical labour of bringing the ball up, climbing the stairs, the batsman used to be declared as out. It was a strict rule in the terrace stadium. This was all going well, until my friend, who was living on the last floor below the terrace, complained of the plaster falling off from his roof. It was emphasised more as one night the plaster fell on his father's nose, which led him to stop our play in immediacy.
The fourth stadium was granted to us by the government, after watching our agony and passion for cricket. We started playing on the roads. Now that was well going, we had a big space, long boundaries, and we were able to play with full-pitch bowling. It was again my honour of breaking the fourth and fifth windowpane. The fifth stroke was so hardly and blindly hit that the glass was shattered in innumerable pieces, some falling into the house and some outside. This resulted in sacrificing my cricket bat for halal to the house owner. The anger of the house owner was so immense that we fled leaving all our cricket kit there itself. We lost our three new wooden stumps, two bats and three tennis balls. One of our younger players also lost his new pair of floaters in the attempt of fleeing. That poor guy was just removing the dirt from them while waiting in the resting area.
Then the sixth and the last stadium was on the other side of road. Same things happened. We weren't mature enough to learn from the history and it repeated itself almost 6 times, this was the sixth one. One of my friend and me distributed the responsibility of hitting the belly of a mid 40s women and breaking a windowpane respectively. That was the time when we felt like the societians would commit a satyagraha for us to quit playing cricket. The agony of that women was immense as the ball we were using that time was a plastic one. We fled as usual, and the news reached our parents. Most of us were beaten up by our mums or dads as our parents were unwilling to pay the expenditure of replacing the windowpanes.
Finally we were granted a legal permission to use the terrace stadium as my friend's father had fixed the roof with new cement plaster.
Monday, February 2, 2009
TIMETABLE
I am becoming lazy gradually, I felt when I saw the morning sun. I thought, I need a change. Something which would keep me going. I came up with an idea of creating a timetable for myself. I know, its not a miraculous idea, as if I've come up with the timetable invention, but its sufficient to keep me going.
I planned of preparing a timetable for myself. But I was reluctant to create one. There were two things disturbing me, one, I don't like my friends, who visit my place, see my time table displayed on the display board, second, I wouldn't obey the schedule if it wasn't in front of my eyes. So, I needed some creative solution for that.
Scratching my head for several times, I opted of writing my time table in bold letters and displaying it on the board. But, I'd use Marathi language instead of English. The reason behind this creative conspiracy was an incident, a couple of months back, when I had just started with my classes. I was scribbling on my notepad and trying to do some rubbish, awful and disgusting calligraphy in Marathi, which would have indeed led to my demotion as an artist. While I was busy, some of my classmates saw my scripture in Marathi and kept their mouth open for a couple of seconds. The reason behind this was not related to my disgusting calligraphy, but they were amazed by watching a different cultural identity. I was famous! I was then contracted to write names for each of them on their hands or notepads in Marathi. They simply loved it.
This incident motivated me to write my timetable in Marathi. This solved both the problems, one, this would give a wow! expression on my friends' faces when they visit my place and also my motive of a motivating timetable would be accomplished.
I planned of preparing a timetable for myself. But I was reluctant to create one. There were two things disturbing me, one, I don't like my friends, who visit my place, see my time table displayed on the display board, second, I wouldn't obey the schedule if it wasn't in front of my eyes. So, I needed some creative solution for that.
Scratching my head for several times, I opted of writing my time table in bold letters and displaying it on the board. But, I'd use Marathi language instead of English. The reason behind this creative conspiracy was an incident, a couple of months back, when I had just started with my classes. I was scribbling on my notepad and trying to do some rubbish, awful and disgusting calligraphy in Marathi, which would have indeed led to my demotion as an artist. While I was busy, some of my classmates saw my scripture in Marathi and kept their mouth open for a couple of seconds. The reason behind this was not related to my disgusting calligraphy, but they were amazed by watching a different cultural identity. I was famous! I was then contracted to write names for each of them on their hands or notepads in Marathi. They simply loved it.
This incident motivated me to write my timetable in Marathi. This solved both the problems, one, this would give a wow! expression on my friends' faces when they visit my place and also my motive of a motivating timetable would be accomplished.
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