It's been more than six months since I went out of Bangalore....okay that's not entirely true. Well, you can say away from the urban surroundings. Yes, it has been that long. Sometimes it was voluntary or self imposed while sometimes it was circumstantial. Whatever the reason, I have been stuck in the urban village with no respite for quite a long time.
And today suddenly that urge to escape became even stronger. No one present in this city would disagree, that it was a perfect weather to run away to the nearest hill or lake on the outskirts of the city. I wished I could become a backpacker and walk along the river flowing by the side of the muddy road. That feeling stayed throughout the day. And then while returning in the cab, with the window half open, I closed my eyes. It was drizzling now. With music in my ears (literally) I could hear nothing else. Not a sound on the street of Bangalore.
With cool breeze hitting my face, I felt I could be anywhere. I could be in the vast lush green field or on the top of the mountain. I smelt the rain and felt more happy.
Then suddenly, a loud honking sound overpowered the music and shook me up and I opened my eyes. I closed my eyes again, increased the volume of music player, but my efforts were futile. I looked outside. The magic was lost.
The feeling has subsided but is still there waiting and longing to be fulfilled. Stay on, don't disappear or I will remain trapped here. Till the longing is there, there is the will to get it fulfilled. And I know it will.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
When'll you realize............
The sharp turn that the bus took had just woken him up partially and cool wind splashing against his face was coaxing him to open his eyes and look at the beautiful surroundings. Slowly he sensed the changes that had undergone in his immediate environment. His legs that had been relaxed suddenly seemed cramped for space. His arms could no longer move freely. With slight irritation he looked around himself. The empty bus that he had boarded was quite full now.A huge bag was placed next to his legs. He looked around questioningly to find its owner. "It's mine", said the young guy seated next to him. The guy seemed to be from city and didn't really seem to belong to the bus. Just as he was making these observations he realised that the young guy wasn't really alone and that he had probably just interrupted an important conversation that he was having. The youth started again, "You won't understand it,Chhotu. I don't like the work anymore. It has become mundane and does not offer me any more challenges.I have to find something more challenging." He gave a sharp look at the youth seated opposite to him. The conversation between the boys slowly faded into the background and what he could hear was a similar echo in his own ears: voice of his past.
Some thirty years back he had similar vigour and fire. Ever since he remembered he wanted to join the army. Many from his village had sacrificed their lives for the country. They were his heroes and he dreamed that one one day he would be a hero too...
His body failed his dreams. He couldn't clear the physical exams to which he was subjected. He tried every other possible area where he could be a hero: Police, fire brigade, but somehow he could never join them. Finally he joined a security agency and started working as a security guard. Initially the charm of the gun given to him made him feel important. But all these years he never had to use a gun. For some years he was posted at a bank. He dreamed of the days, when some bank robbery would be attempted and he would be the one to foil it. But nothing like this happened. But as he aged, he was shifted to a housing society. Now he didn't even have a gun. The area was quite peaceful. He did the daily chores like switching the building lights, water pump,etc. He maintained a register for any outsider.But this wasn't his idea of being heroic. With all these thoughts running through his head,he didn't realise that the bus had reached the bus stand. The two boys had already got down. He picked up his luggage and slowly walked to the building where he was working. When he was home, he had almost started missing this building and the people living here. But now that he was back he just did not have the same enthusiasm any more. Just as he placed his luggage and was getting ready to sit on his regular seat he saw the old lady living on the third floor. As she saw him, her face lighted. She rushed to him, as fast as she could. She started speaking excitedly,"You are finally back…good. Your replacement was useless. A salesman reached my doorstep in the afternoon. I was so scared. Now I can be relieved." And her face did really reflect the peace of mind that he had rendered. He smiled at her, but more than that, he smiled at himself; a reassuring smile.
***********************************************************
This story got structured as I was visiting a bank recently and saw an elderly security guard with a rifle in his hand. And I wondered whether he was happy doing what he did. I don't agree with everything I have written above. I don't think one should always be satisfied with what one has, one should always challenge one's potential...blah blah blah, and everything else that is written in millions of self help books available in the market today. But rather I want to stress that many a times in the race to achieve, succeed or challenge, we tend to miss the good and simple things that we do everyday. They may not be mighty or heroic, but it is still creditable that you do them. Rather than explaining what I am trying to say here, I think the lines from this Billy Joel song ('Vienna waits for you') capture my thoughts the best:
Though you can see when you're wrong,
You can't always see when you're right
Some thirty years back he had similar vigour and fire. Ever since he remembered he wanted to join the army. Many from his village had sacrificed their lives for the country. They were his heroes and he dreamed that one one day he would be a hero too...
His body failed his dreams. He couldn't clear the physical exams to which he was subjected. He tried every other possible area where he could be a hero: Police, fire brigade, but somehow he could never join them. Finally he joined a security agency and started working as a security guard. Initially the charm of the gun given to him made him feel important. But all these years he never had to use a gun. For some years he was posted at a bank. He dreamed of the days, when some bank robbery would be attempted and he would be the one to foil it. But nothing like this happened. But as he aged, he was shifted to a housing society. Now he didn't even have a gun. The area was quite peaceful. He did the daily chores like switching the building lights, water pump,etc. He maintained a register for any outsider.But this wasn't his idea of being heroic. With all these thoughts running through his head,he didn't realise that the bus had reached the bus stand. The two boys had already got down. He picked up his luggage and slowly walked to the building where he was working. When he was home, he had almost started missing this building and the people living here. But now that he was back he just did not have the same enthusiasm any more. Just as he placed his luggage and was getting ready to sit on his regular seat he saw the old lady living on the third floor. As she saw him, her face lighted. She rushed to him, as fast as she could. She started speaking excitedly,"You are finally back…good. Your replacement was useless. A salesman reached my doorstep in the afternoon. I was so scared. Now I can be relieved." And her face did really reflect the peace of mind that he had rendered. He smiled at her, but more than that, he smiled at himself; a reassuring smile.
***********************************************************
This story got structured as I was visiting a bank recently and saw an elderly security guard with a rifle in his hand. And I wondered whether he was happy doing what he did. I don't agree with everything I have written above. I don't think one should always be satisfied with what one has, one should always challenge one's potential...blah blah blah, and everything else that is written in millions of self help books available in the market today. But rather I want to stress that many a times in the race to achieve, succeed or challenge, we tend to miss the good and simple things that we do everyday. They may not be mighty or heroic, but it is still creditable that you do them. Rather than explaining what I am trying to say here, I think the lines from this Billy Joel song ('Vienna waits for you') capture my thoughts the best:
Though you can see when you're wrong,
You can't always see when you're right
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Fall and Rise
There I was, listening to some most soothing music on my mp3 player when my cab for the office arrived. I bent to climb into it and BAAAAM. My head went numb followed by a sharp (i wouldn't like to exaggerate it by calling it 'excruciating' though) pain. I had just banged my head against the car's ceiling. My cab mates enquired whether I was okay wearing a sheepish grin that seemed to contrast the concern. It is just so natural. I myself have smiled or laughed so many times when someone has fallen (unless of course in case of something serious).
Looking at them I too smiled, wondering if it had looked funny. And somehow throughout the journey I kept pressing my head to check whether it felt okay;whether I was feeling giddy or not. But in that one moment of pain I could almost imagine the numerous other scenes like this of which I have been a part.
Though I don't remember my first steps which of course would have led to the first fall, I do remember the countless other ones.
The funniest one that I remember is the one when I was at my dramatic best though not intentionally. I am sure I have narrated this incident to most of my friends, but I have never written it as such. Well, once upon a time :), we were playing Hide and Seek and while running through the backyards of the houses, I must not have seen the rope used for drying clothes. And BAAAM, all of sudden I was on the ground.With one hand on the head, I left for home. I don't remember whether I told the others or not. They must have had a hard time trying to find a missing person. Next thing I remember is getting up from the bed. I don't remember what happened ,but I guess I was feeling a little lost and blank. I could not recollect when I had gone to play or what I had done before I went to play. And as a result I uttered the most foolish and filmy words one could possibly hear at that instant, 'aai majhi yaad daash geli aahe'. A complete mix of Hindi and Marathi it translates to 'Mom, I have amnesia'.Oh God....My mother and sister could not stop laughing. I was actually angry...Shouldn't they be worried for me...How can they just laugh....Any ways, I slowly remembered the activities preceding to the accident. The plausible explanation that I gave to myself was that sometimes we just perform the daily activities so mechanically that we don't remember actually doing them.
These small accidents still seem to amuse me, except for possibly the hand getting jammed in the door.I don't know why, but somehow it really disturbs me.With small kids or toddlers it is more fun to see the response of the adults. They wait for the precious two seconds to see the response of the kid. It's like a standard if- else condition: If the kid looks ok and does not cry? Then ignore. Else repeat the same set of dialogues rehearsed over centuries.
These physical falls are so much easier to deal with. We accept them, laugh with others who laugh at us and move on. But yet we are so afraid to make mistakes that make us fall momentarily. But let it be.... I am not going to end up in metaphors and allegories.Let the trivial topic with which I started remain that way.My head feels okay, though I do keep checking it once in a while. My memory seems fine, as gud or bad as it was before. So if I remember about the blog that I have created, will keep blogging.
Looking at them I too smiled, wondering if it had looked funny. And somehow throughout the journey I kept pressing my head to check whether it felt okay;whether I was feeling giddy or not. But in that one moment of pain I could almost imagine the numerous other scenes like this of which I have been a part.
Though I don't remember my first steps which of course would have led to the first fall, I do remember the countless other ones.
The funniest one that I remember is the one when I was at my dramatic best though not intentionally. I am sure I have narrated this incident to most of my friends, but I have never written it as such. Well, once upon a time :), we were playing Hide and Seek and while running through the backyards of the houses, I must not have seen the rope used for drying clothes. And BAAAM, all of sudden I was on the ground.With one hand on the head, I left for home. I don't remember whether I told the others or not. They must have had a hard time trying to find a missing person. Next thing I remember is getting up from the bed. I don't remember what happened ,but I guess I was feeling a little lost and blank. I could not recollect when I had gone to play or what I had done before I went to play. And as a result I uttered the most foolish and filmy words one could possibly hear at that instant, 'aai majhi yaad daash geli aahe'. A complete mix of Hindi and Marathi it translates to 'Mom, I have amnesia'.Oh God....My mother and sister could not stop laughing. I was actually angry...Shouldn't they be worried for me...How can they just laugh....Any ways, I slowly remembered the activities preceding to the accident. The plausible explanation that I gave to myself was that sometimes we just perform the daily activities so mechanically that we don't remember actually doing them.
These small accidents still seem to amuse me, except for possibly the hand getting jammed in the door.I don't know why, but somehow it really disturbs me.With small kids or toddlers it is more fun to see the response of the adults. They wait for the precious two seconds to see the response of the kid. It's like a standard if- else condition: If the kid looks ok and does not cry? Then ignore. Else repeat the same set of dialogues rehearsed over centuries.
These physical falls are so much easier to deal with. We accept them, laugh with others who laugh at us and move on. But yet we are so afraid to make mistakes that make us fall momentarily. But let it be.... I am not going to end up in metaphors and allegories.Let the trivial topic with which I started remain that way.My head feels okay, though I do keep checking it once in a while. My memory seems fine, as gud or bad as it was before. So if I remember about the blog that I have created, will keep blogging.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
I like this
Almost a year since I posted a blog. The reason for not writing so long.... Don't know.Reason for writing again...Don't know...But who cares...But its gud that at least the gap is not more than a year (technically).
Well...as usual I don't have something reeeeeeeally big to write about. Just the things that amuse me. The latest one here is : what I like and don't like. Oh don't worry, the blog is not about 25 things I love and 25 things that I hate...Nobody cares...Even I don't(But I have sometimes enjoyed reading them about others). But the question of my likes and dislikes actually came into my mind, when someone recently suggested me a movie and said, "I know you will like it.You generally like such kind of movies." Though it didn't strike me at that time, but this statement baffled me completely later. Are my likes and dislikes so clear cut or well defined?
It's very hard for me to explain it here. And I have already canceled the two lines through which I thought I was trying to explain. So let me try again. Specially, in case of movies, I feel I can try. I used to think that I like the movies where the story seems to be leading somewhere. The reason: I must have scoffed at so many movies that I have hated saying that they were not 'happening enough'. And yet on second thoughts some of my favourite movies are the ones in which the story is thin but dialogues are great...or some other reason.
Same is the case with books too...I generally like the books where the language used is not commonplace. And so I was not surprised when I did not like Chetan Bhagat's last book (but the first one that I read). But I was more surprised that I did not 'not like' his second book. The language is ordinary again. The story is quirky.I don't know what I liked about it.
I don't always like what everybody likes. I also don't hate what everybody likes. But what I was trying to find was a pattern. Can I know before hand that I am going to like or enjoy so and so movie, book,etc. But you know,....I am glad to conclude that there isn't any. It was fun to tell my friend later that I actually did not like the suggested movie.
Have so much to write about this. But don't have words. Plus have many other things to do...some that I like, some that I don't :)
p.s: Couldn't think of better title
Well...as usual I don't have something reeeeeeeally big to write about. Just the things that amuse me. The latest one here is : what I like and don't like. Oh don't worry, the blog is not about 25 things I love and 25 things that I hate...Nobody cares...Even I don't(But I have sometimes enjoyed reading them about others). But the question of my likes and dislikes actually came into my mind, when someone recently suggested me a movie and said, "I know you will like it.You generally like such kind of movies." Though it didn't strike me at that time, but this statement baffled me completely later. Are my likes and dislikes so clear cut or well defined?
It's very hard for me to explain it here. And I have already canceled the two lines through which I thought I was trying to explain. So let me try again. Specially, in case of movies, I feel I can try. I used to think that I like the movies where the story seems to be leading somewhere. The reason: I must have scoffed at so many movies that I have hated saying that they were not 'happening enough'. And yet on second thoughts some of my favourite movies are the ones in which the story is thin but dialogues are great...or some other reason.
Same is the case with books too...I generally like the books where the language used is not commonplace. And so I was not surprised when I did not like Chetan Bhagat's last book (but the first one that I read). But I was more surprised that I did not 'not like' his second book. The language is ordinary again. The story is quirky.I don't know what I liked about it.
I don't always like what everybody likes. I also don't hate what everybody likes. But what I was trying to find was a pattern. Can I know before hand that I am going to like or enjoy so and so movie, book,etc. But you know,....I am glad to conclude that there isn't any. It was fun to tell my friend later that I actually did not like the suggested movie.
Have so much to write about this. But don't have words. Plus have many other things to do...some that I like, some that I don't :)
p.s: Couldn't think of better title
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