Hanuman I

It was a thought at first.

A slight tingling of the nerve that manifested itself into something larger as time crept by – Violence; it seemed; was a part of him now.

He had seen his mother shield his sister from her father, crazed with madness and liquor, he used to batter his family every day. As he grew older – he realized that It was more of his shortcomings that their father vented on his family. He was supposed to be the provider to the family – instead he was a failure. The failure to do anything worthwhile led him to bouts of anger and rage. That were vented on the family.

It was most unfortunate. He sat on a log, lost in thought – wisps of smoke blowing around him. The beedi was a warm reassurance in the cold dense jungle. The cold metal of the rifle slung around his shoulder was another. The others slept peacefully. But the cries of his family while their house was burned down by the local goon were enough to haunt him for the rest of his life. It had jarred him out of his sleep on more than one occasion. This had caused him enough anguish, he had not slept since then unless fatigue would completely overtake him and he would crash suddenly. This had earned him the nickname of Hanuman by his brothers in arms.

He looked at his watch, only an hour to go – he thought.

The jungle had become reassuring now. It was always the jungle that reassured hanuman whenever he was disturbed or angry. He would escape the severe battering of his father and run away to the jungle to try and escape from life itself.

A strange calmness enveloped him as the hour drew closer. It was familiar, he was aware of his senses being in a heightened state as the hour for action approached. Years of living in the jungle had attuned his senses to even a slight shiver that was out of place. The jungle could be your worst enemy if you didn’t respect it – it would finish you. But, if you get to know it better – it could prove to be a trusted friend. He would always tell this to youngsters that were freshly recruited.

And a friend it was – hanuman heard a twig snap in the silence of the night. It was ever so slight that an untrained ear would have hardly noticed. But, no – not Hanuman. Nothing escaped him. He quietly swung his rifle towards the noise even as he stealthily picked himself up off the log and knelt down on the soft earth in a firing position. The Beedi remained in his mouth - a reassurance.

The fire crackled and hissed as Hanuman wished he was sitting behind it. Anyone approaching could make out his outline. Or anything.

There was no other sound, the hissing logs that were nearly consumed by the flames and Hanuman’s own breathing – which was steady. He was ready. Ready for whatever was in the vicinity.

But – nothing happened. There was no further sound. The fire was about to die out. Hanuman realized whatever was in the shrubbery was waiting for the fire to die out. If that was the case – it had to be an animal…

To be contd...

Incorrigible !ndia

Indians are a racist lot.

There's is so much of dislike going around everywhere. Especially in today's world, seems as if people can't stand the sight of each other. I wonder why. taking a small example, my landlady does not like the tenants staying a floor below her. Says they are too 'banagalored'.

I retort in my head saying "where are you from then -  Bedforshire?!!"

Its as if there was an undercurrent of dislike that flows wherever i look to - i mean, its appalling. If i was to close my eyes and put my finger on the political map of India (the white paper thingy with the states drawn in that we used to gt in schools) I would have another race/religion/ethnicity/language/caste that was diametrically opposite in ideology to it (read: bloodthirsty lutes at each other's throats)

Be it the folks from Gujarat (or wherever they are from) called as 'Gujjars' or honor killers from Haryana - all of them are cuckoo in their collective heads. there seems to be no room for level headed people anymore.

"park in my lane - will you?!?!??" a club to the head and the argument is sorted out in a most sordid fashion.

brawn it seems - has taken over the streets in its most pathetic state - mob violence.

When i was younger (and less discretionary) i was witness to an incident in Delhi (pronounced: Dilli) that has a name now - road rage. A scooterist , an endangered species to begin wit, was hit lightly by a Maruti 800 from behind.

Now, we all know that loons with half a head drive scooters. And, these same loons when they do land some money buy the Maruti 800 - which incidentally, is a take-away box with wheels attached.

So, it could be easily construed as an incident where a person of the same community hit another in a random act of misjudged timing. Say your sorries and make way for traffic with out a ruckus.

But, no! - this incident has economic undertones - when i look back at it - it was a case of "tere paas mere se jyada paisa hai, AUR TUNE MUJHE MARA?!!!" The scooterist quietly got down, proceeded to remove his helmet and use it to bludgeon the poor guy sitting in the 800. And, you thought helmets were made to protect people. Hah!

We live in unfortunate times - i have to say. So unfortunate that; not a day is spent by where you don't have to navigate your life through marauding morons with verbal/physical clubs.

The divide is so yawning that there has to be a mediator in every transactory act. This mediator can be best identified by the smug expression on his face and the satisfied smile that he gives you after he has successfully managed to deliver results. A rare lot - they are to be coveted in any unfamiliar territory with utmost care. They will get you where ordinary mortals couldn't and make sure you have the necessary resources to manage things thoroughly.

But, that is not a sure fire solution. You are still stuck in hostile environment. the adage goes "if you cant beat 'em, join 'em". I decided to adopt it when i came to Bangalore for the first time. I tried learning the language but it sounded like a series of garbled abuses thrown at cowering listeners. Not, that my own mother tongue - Marathi sounds any different to the uninititated; i quickly abandoned any effort whatsoever to learn the language and adopted the one language that is gladly accepted and understood nationally - English.

And, it worked - in fact for 2 straight years i have uttered only 2 words of the local language -

'Kannada Gotilla' (i Dunno Kannada)

Unfortunately, for the locals its a matter of pride - I picture a Raj Thakery hopping up and down blowing smoke through his nostrils. The case is similar here as well.. Heck - the case is similar anywhere in the sub continent. Punjabi's will heckle you, Bengali's will look down upon you, Bihari's will kidnap you and hand you over to Assamese who will behead you - bit not before making you dance by trapping your legs in bamboos, Gujarati's will straight away swindle you, Maharashtrian's will beat you up for trying to work in thier city, so will Kannadiga's , Andhraite's will gather together and bitch about you and Tams will talk to you as if you were steeped in their culture, then realise that you aren't one of them, relieve you of your money and make you feel worthless because you aren't from their great country oops - State.

I love my India!

P.S. - Relax - its for fun. Take it that way :)

Radha Rewind

She was just finishing the word document that her boss had dumped on her. This was increasingly becoming the norm with her boss. It was a rainy Friday evening.

Oh! how she hated him.

But, what she hated more was the fact that she did not have a sympathetic ear to talk to. She felt the loneliness around her magnified by the absence of that someone whose shoulder she could take support on.

And the sham she had to put up for all to see - God! it was too much!

The world had relegated her to a role which was 'a successful working woman' - sans emotion and fiercely competitive. She had to play the part. Shakespeare's quote of the world being a stage rang true in her head.

People would shy away from her, taking a look at her profile and and her aspirations.

She felt as if no one understood her.

The document she was working on stopped responding.

"Goddamn Word... hung again!" she thought exasperated.

In a flash of anger, very characteristic of her, she shut the laptop with a loud thud. That drew curious stares from her co workers.

"Go f*** yourselves!" she thought in her head. It must have shown on her face because the nearest guy staring at her hurriedly swiveled on his chair and dove back into his excel sheet.

She stalked out of the office and snapped at the evening security guard. A small voice inside her said otherwise but it was vehemently sidelined by what she was now.

She got into her car and noisily slammed the door shut.

"At least this is enjoyable..." she thought to herself sourly.

Flipping on the radio; she squealed out of the parking lot and into the mainstream suburban traffic.

"God must be a five year old, five year old's are sadists" she thought angrily.

Approaching the intersection, she was supposed to take a right turn home. Realizing that she'd never explored any other route from office - she decided to take the left. It seemed clear of traffic as well.

"So what if I'm half an hour late to home - not like any one's waiting!" she thought to herself gruffly.

Flipping ABS off - she speeded up on the lone stretch of road. It was a beautiful night. The moon was shining down on the wet road. It had just rained and there was  no one on the empty stretch of road. The milestones indicated that she was headed away from her home. But in her current state of mind - she was least bothered.

She kept on going, stepping on the gas. the tires began squealing in the corners as she took them at higher and higher speed.

"More performance.." she thought to herself as she flipped the air con off and rolled down the window.  This was her mantra in life - more performance - at any cost. The beautiful draft of wind that blew in the car cabin invigorated her.

But that did nothing to lift her mood up which was still sour at her boss. Life it seemed had been unfair to her. Her parents had paid more attention to her elder brother, not that he was an idiot. He was doing pretty well for himself in the States.

"Well, he had been sent there by Dad" she thought unkindly.

"otherwise he would have been an electrician or something"

"Couldn't he have spared enough money to send me as well" she thought angrily. The speed of the car picked up even more.

Her thoughts floated to the promotion that her colleague Naresh had just got.

"Bastard hardly works - keeps staring at me - bloody lecher - and gets a promotion. I know i work more than him - I KNOW!" she slammed the steering wheel with her hands. they hurt.

"I should have been a man - I would have torn this guy apart..."

"Why don't I just die..." she thought painfully.

There was a loud noise from somewhere behind her. For a second everything seemed fine...

And then, the car careened wildly - fishtailing on the wet and slippery road at high speed.

Realizing that a Tyre had burst, she fought with the car to regain control - slamming on the brakes - she forgot she had turned ABS off - the wheels locked up on the wet road. The car was an uncontrollable mass of metal traveling at high speed.

She was frozen solid with fear - as she saw a turn in the road. And a bright light engulfed everything...

"You asked for it..." she heard a gentle voice,

Radha could not see anything - it was too bright, she was squinting

"What the hell..." she thought to herself.

"No, not Hell technically. Not yet..." the voice answered reading her thoughts.

"It'll be pretty soon if you keep up at it..." continued the voice.

"Who...what...what the f***..." she was completely disoriented.

"My, my..." the voice said -

"We are grouchy - aren't we now..." 

The voice was getting a bit irritating now.

"Who are you?!" 

She finally shouted.

"God..." 

The voice said simply.

"God?!!!" 

She almost screamed.

"Yes" the voice said.

"Whats with the light?!! I cant even see you..." she picked up an arm to shield herself away from the light - only to realize she didn't have one. She looked down horrified to find no body .All she saw was a shimmering ethereal bluish - black wisp of smoke floating around where her body was supposed to be.

"Its called a soul..." the voice answered reading her thoughts.

"Listen dude..." she snapped...

"God..." the voice interrupted her.

"Yeah...whatever, and turn the darn light off!!" she was hysterical. There was a loud click and the bright light was off. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw a five year old kid with curly hair approaching. She recoiled in terror.

"Yo..you..you are God?!?!?!!" she was hardly able to get it out.

"The child gave a cute naughty smile. he was sprightly and had long silky hair. Fair and well built he came close to Radha. Radha floated away, her smokey body was turbid in appearance.

 The child suddenly turned into her Boss, and then into her father, and then into the security guard.

"STOP IT!!! PLEASE!!!" she was on the verge of tears. Or, within context, welling up water vapor.

"OK, OK.. i thought it would be a cool stunt. But do you get my point?!" the security guard asked. The voice had the same benign quality around it. It seemed to have a calming effect on her. She felt light as well - which felt strange.

"What point??!" she asked puzzled.

"Well, that I am everywhere! Your boss, your father, the security guard you snapped at this evening. Heck - even the imagined five year old..." the voice said.

"Are you showing off??" she asked pugnaciously.

"Look, i gotta wrap up here sweety. So be with me OK? I haven't got all night" the voice was still benign but there was an element of testiness in it now.

"OK..." she said meekly.

"Right! So, you have been dissing me for quite a while now...correct?" the security guard posed a question to her.

"Yeah..."she shrugged.

"I am not going to ask why because you have been telling me the same story for a million years! See, the plain and simple reason for your suffering is that you're being nasty to people."

"That's horseshit!" she exclaimed. And checking herself  "I'm sorry".

"Exactly my point, who in their senses would say 'that's horseshit' to something God's telling them?". the security guard rolled his eyes.

"Not many...and...I said, I am sorry" she said in a small voice.

"Wrong! all of you all" the guard said exasperatedly ignoring her apology.

"You'll are just plain mean to each other all the bloody time - and then say I am doing this! You think i have the time?!?!" he thundered.

"I gotta save humanity from dolts like you, and there are lots of them; billions in fact; everyone of you is a dolt on some level..." the guard looked pretty calm - surprisingly.

"Well, I am sorry..." she began.

"No, no, that's not good enough - Do you know - why you have a bluish-black smoky appearance?" he asked.

"No..."

"Because you always keep thinking dark despairing things!" he exclaimed.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah, be positive baby..." his voice softened. He continued.

"Listen, i really have to go, but remember, keep praying. And, stop dissing me heartlessly. I really don't like being called names. Not that ill do something nasty in return, I just like you too much..."

he almost finished...

"Oh yeah, another thing, when you pray - ask for what'll be good for you, not what you want - because you're just plain stupid in asking for the right things.." he smiled broadly. Just looking at the broadly smiling security guard made her feel warm all inside her gaseous state.

"Be good sweetheart...everything will fall in place..."

Before she could react - he stuck a hand inside her Smokey self. The smoke disappeared instantly. There was a loud click in the background as everything was engulfed in the same bright light.

She woke up as usual to the ringing alarm. She eyed the wall clock lazily. It was 8 a.m.

"What a weird dream" she thought hazily.

 "Heh...God - it seems..." she guffawed in her head.

She groggily made coffee and turned on the news. Her brain seemed stiff, almost zombie like.
There was a to-do list stuck with a magnet on the refrigerator.There was something scribbled on it with crayon. She took a closer look and squinted through glazed eyes - It had only two points
1. Be good
2. Pray
The handwriting looked like a five year old's.

"Must be the next door neighbor's son..." she thought stupidly.

She took one long swig of coffee and proceeded to spit it out all over the kitchen counter as she saw the date flashing on the ticker of the news channel. 

Friday 21st May.

P.S. - Due respect to 'Bruce Almighty'.

Miles to go before i sleep...

There is something amazingly therapeutic about travelling on highways and expressways.

The constant hum of the engine offset occasionally by a pothole or two, the changing scenery whipping past ranging from beautiful highlands to grassy plains and everything in the middle - all of them breathtaking.

It's more about enjoying the journey than reaching the destination. The utter pleasure of flooring the accelerator on an open stretch of road is indescribable, especially when you have a 2.5 litre diesel engine waiting at your disposal with bated breath.

Now, every journey, however short - should be taken in utmost comfort. Otherwise, its just another point A to point B travel trying to pinch some pennies in the process. Also, disturbing the individual alignment of your backside.

To address this issue -you have the awesome SUVs.

The Innova is a case in point - although it does not really qualify as an out-and-out SUV, it also does not deserve the tag of being branded as a people carrier. It sits, ensconced somewhere in the middle - and that middle is gargantuan. Calling it huge would be an understatement - It is cavernous!

And - pretty fast for a rock formation.

The 2.5L engine belts out enough thrust while making the loudest grunt possible to propel this rhino out of signals and right ahead with the Skodas and the Honda's. It is surprisingly agile for its girth although there is enough body roll during cornering; to encourage any 5 year old's system to give up their recently had lunch. That said, the comfort is excellent. Its like leaning on an American. Thick and loud!

So, enough about the vehicle. That's not what I'm talking about (not entirely). The countryside with the breathtakingly rolling hills and windswept roads is mesmerising. The lane markers zipping past under you is almost hypnotic. Not to mention the pleasantly sudden strains of a Kishore Kumar suddenly appearing out of nowhere on the FM that wasn't catching anything while in transit.

Another extremely indulgent aspect of road trips is the roadside dhabas. These are a brilliant concept probably spearheaded by Punjabi's and truckers (they are not the same, clubbing them is just coincidental) who know what to eat when on the road. 

Or, it also could be the hunger that makes the most averagely tempered meal taste like manna. The customary taaaaaall glass of lassi or buttermilk (depending where you are in India) after finishing a most satiating meal is the right punch line to every food possible (yes, i am a glutton). Hitting the road on a content stomach is equal to a well fed army covering ground on a war footing.

Ok - taking stock - Food, nature, vehicle - Oh yes! company!

Traveling with the wrong kind of of people could easily amount to near death experience out of boredom.

If the company you keep believes in contemplating in the true nature of things, and, what mankind is doing to mother nature etc etc, please push them out!

And, if there is chatter going around that sounds like an incessant cacophony inside of a rain forest and makes the vehicle sound like its on loan for the mumbai zoo - throw these buggers out as well. The key is to select people who are the right mix of both (damn, i sound like an HR manager!)

The 'right' kind of company is essential in enjoying the true value of the journey. Getting caught with the wrong people is horrible - trust me! 

For instance - let us say you were travelling to Ladakh - you would not really be looking for your Maasi to accompany you with her eldest daughter and son in law who have just been married; and; whose last trip taken was their honeymoon -  2 years ago. (you WOULD pass the dark tunnel to the other side with angels saying "I told you so...")

Alternatively, you would not be caught with your craziest buddies on a trip to Vaishno Devi. The kind of buddies with whom you have spent some really memorable times. Times - which, when you think back - you realise - That was so goddamn stupid!

Good company is relative. So i am not going to take a call on what good company should be. But yes - I can give discretionary services based on input factors!

That said - I do believe taking intercity road trips - heck - even a jaunt to the city outskirts is amazing. Clears your head and makes you put things in perspective. Personally, i have always thrown caution, tension, responsibility, Time etc (any of the deep dark depressing things that come to you when you grow up) to the wind.

As i said, very therapeutic and uplifting.