Back in the days when cable TV had not invaded our imaginations and when in std V, I had cried hoarse for a cable TV connection and on not getting one would secretly go to a friend’s place to watch the afternoon movies, Sunday mornings on DD-1 were much more than delight.
Having completed most of my homework on Friday evening and also on Saturday, I would sleep on Saturday night with only one ambition, one dream and one goal, which was watching DD1 from 7am onwards.
Sunday morning I wake up with a start. Its 6:45am, don’t worry I could read a clock from std IV (lol!!!), just so that I don’t miss the start I switch on the TV and rubbing my sleepy eyes I gaze at it. The NIRMA add, followed by LIFEBOUY, then HAMAM and then the TV switches off….its 6:55am…..no no no!!!!
Its not a power cut, its mom :( :(
I got 5 mins to wash my face, brush my teeth, drink my morning mug of milk and catch RANGOLI….can I do it…ohh no just remembered I had to shit too :( :( :( Somehow I managed to convince mom that Ill do all this but just let the TV be. I will listen to it while I am doing all my morning chores.
Finally at 7:15am I am back it front of the TV, MERE SAPNO ki RANI song is on and I start shouting (I wont say singing, kya hai unn dino meri aawaz develop nahi hui thi na :)). Two stanzas done and just when I start enjoying myself; enter dad; to interrupt my Sunday morning :( :(
Time for a hair cut he says. Why today why couldn’t we go yesterday? No answer. It was my mistake I should have not told how Gonsalves Sir (our PT teacher) cut Mahesh’s hair in the class because it was too long :( :( . Now I got to pay the price, its too heavy a price…nahiii..and I start crying cos there is no way out besides I am too young to argue with my parents(lol!!).
Finally I stop crying after being promised a 5 STAR..(5 STAR cannot compensate the loss I would go through on forgoing RANGOLI but then next Sunday there will be no hair cuts and plus I get a 5 STAR too, not a bad deal right??)
Enter Vijay Hair Dressers. I didn’t like the guy Vijay. The only reason being he used to pull my cheeks with such force that my cheeks pained :( :( and he used to do that not only when I went to his saloon but also when I used to pass by :( :( . But then that was the only saloon close by.
Me and my dad sit on a stool waiting our turn. There is quite a crowd and we are told that we would have to wait for some 45 mins before our turn. Thank God, dad is here with me today, the last time I came; Vijay made me wait an hour. My number was conveniently given to others who came after me. I was too young to ask for explanations and I found it too trivial to complain to dad about it plus that Sunday we had a power cut so I was not exactly missing on RANGOLI and all :) :)
But this Sunday I was at a loss. The wrist watch on my dad’s hand read 8:00am. When Vijay says 45 mins it is an hour or even more. That would shatter my next plan too. I had planned to get home by 9:00am so that I could catch MOWGLI but that was not going to happen and plus I was gonna get only one 5 STAR. That would compensate missing RANGOLI but how do I get compensation for MOWGLI? I had to get home in time for the show!!!
8:15am and still no plan…think boy think…and finally at 8:20pm I had a plan and I went into action right away..the following is the conversation that took place, it has been translated into English:
Me: Baba, how much more time? (with a sorry look on my face)
Baba: Another 10 mins. Hold on
(I could see that even dad was growing impatient. That’s a positive sign. Time: 8:23am)
Vijay: (Butting in between) Bass Sir, iss ke baad ek daadhi banani hai aur phir aapka number. 10 mins max.
(No reply from dad. Another good sign :) :) )
the remaining conversation in Marathi, I don’t want it to lose meaning in the translation
Time- 8:30am
Me: (in hushed tone) Baba,……Baba….shee lagli (with a constipated look… )
Baba: Kay??? Sakali nahi keli ka..
Me: Keli hoti pan tari lagli…(more constipated look)
Baba: (looking at the watch) 20 mins thamb, cutting zhalyavar ghari jaun kar…aalach number aata (consoling tone)
Me: Jorat lagli ahe :( (more more constipated look)
Baba to Vijay. Time-8:45am
Baba: Arre me ek 20 mintat yeto. Number thev
Vijay: Sir, aata kuthe jata. Aalach ki number and asa number nahi thevat me. Pudche bomba marta
Baba: Asa ka…barr
Only 15mins more. This is my last chance.
Me: Baba, me jato khup jorat lagli ahe…(more more more constipated look. I manage to roll a tear down one cheek.Yesss!!!!)
Baba: Barr chal..(dad is frustrated and angry but he cant show it in the saloon. I am praying that by the time we get home the anger would subside.)
The moment we are out of the saloon I start running towards the building. Dad doesn’t know that I got just 10 more minutes to 9:00am. He thinks the boy was right and smiles. Anger subsided.
I charge up the steps, enter the house and panting switch on the TV. 8:55am just in time. Yess.!!! Thank God mom is having a bath or I would have had to explain the whole thing to her.
9:05am: Dad walks in. Baghira is saying something.
Baba: Kay zhali ka shee (he is nearing the truth it seems)
Me: Ho..attach alo (matter of fact expression)
He doesn’t say anything. Saved. He doesn’t want to spoil his Sunday morning.
I got to see MOWGLI but a couple of things changed from that Sunday onwards. My dad never accompanied me to the hair cutting saloon again. With this freedom I started going to a different saloon (on my bicycle of course) where the barber was more interested in his work than pulling my cheeks and who took customers strictly on first come first serve basis.
But on the down side, I never got a 5 STAR again for any of my HAIR CUTS…
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
JUST FLY!!!
It is our dreams that shape our destiny,
To achieve them, many times we have to mutiny...
We have to go to unknown lands,
And may be sing along with unknown bands..
Its all a part of the game, they say;
After all to win, you have to play.
As you try to reach out for the sky,
You have to leave something behind and fly..
There are too many things, you want to say..
Too little time..
It's perfectly fine my friend,
Its not a crime!!!
Standing at the terminal, ready to fly..
Don't look back now, don't even cry..
Waiting for you is the sky,
So go ahead and JUST FLY !!!
(this one's for YAM, as a farewell gift!!!! Sorry i couldnt be there at the terminal)
To achieve them, many times we have to mutiny...
We have to go to unknown lands,
And may be sing along with unknown bands..
Its all a part of the game, they say;
After all to win, you have to play.
As you try to reach out for the sky,
You have to leave something behind and fly..
There are too many things, you want to say..
Too little time..
It's perfectly fine my friend,
Its not a crime!!!
Standing at the terminal, ready to fly..
Don't look back now, don't even cry..
Waiting for you is the sky,
So go ahead and JUST FLY !!!
(this one's for YAM, as a farewell gift!!!! Sorry i couldnt be there at the terminal)
Thursday, September 04, 2008
HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY
5th September always had a special meaning for me at least in the academic calendar. Teacher’s day celebrations were always a think I looked forward to in my school. A special feature on that day was that for half a day the students would be taking up lectures in the classes. Typically students from the 9th or 10th std were picked up for this job. Sitting in my std 5th class and trying to concentrate on what the guy in front of me was telling me I was always in awe as to this guy must have done something really great to have replaced Shailendra sir to teach me Mathematics. After all in those days for me Mathematics started from Shailendra Sir and ended with him. He was my Aryabhatta, he was my Pythagoras. I always wanted to take up a class when I grew up on Teacher’s Day.
Teachers and the principal were closeted in the staff room where they would enjoy samosas, pakodas, tea and sweets too. I didn’t mind them eating that; after all my teachers deserved all this for there hard work. Also we had been given a cream-roll each!!!. What more can a 5th std student expect and to top it up even Shaila Tr (my science teacher) had gratefully accepted the dalia which I had got for here. She was another good teacher I had in my formative years. Even in std 5th she encouraged us to try to look beyond the textbooks. She was what led me to the school library where I opened my first ‘Tell me WHY?’ volume.
Of course there were some teachers we liked ;) Pardon me if you think I am going off track here but then it happens to every boy I guess around std 8th -9th (ahem, ahem) and considering that we were a all boys school (proud to hail from such a place !!!) we did like some of our teachers a bit more. It was a coincidence that most of these were from the computer department (and may be there I decided that my future lay with computers ;) , this is a filler please ignore) and a few were teaching in the primary sections. I didn’t understand why we used to like teachers who recently joined ;) Hehehe!! It was these teacher’s who got the maximum flowers on teacher’s day. I always connected this somehow to the rose days’ I latter witnessed during my graduation days ;) .We even caught a couple of parents (wanted to use the singular but that would have been out of place J) sneaking a flower or two to these likable teachers. That made for good lunch time discussions.
Finally on the 5th Sept in Std 9th I was picked up to take a class of geography in std 7. That was a challenge. Guys in Std 7 were good. I mean they were definitely better than the primary section guys in questioning. They were going to listen to me real hard and not gonna take any shit. I mean I had done that when I was in std 7th. “Full le liya yaar Advait tune usko”, was the compliment I had received then from my bench partner ;) Now I was at the other end.
Nothing spectacular happened that day. Meri kisine nahi phadi. After all there is only one Advait; I thought and smiled. I had prepared well for that half hour lecture. It was related to the grasslands; the Pampas, the Prairies and all. I had taken loads of extra information and the guys were hooked on. It was a delight to say the least.
This Teacher’s Day I woke up late. And only now I realized that it was Sept 5th. Now-a- days the dates don’t matter much, the days are important (especially the weekends). I miss my teachers. I still feel that jus one more lecture would do no harm. I want to go and sit on my bench back in school, want to solve those Pythagoras equations. I want to pin point the coal mines on the map of India. I want to solve integrals and derivatives at lightening speed and that too at 5:45am in the morning under the nose of Gadgil sir. I want to understand again how the DC motor works.
All I need is jus one more lecture.
I salute you my teachers. Naming you here in my blog is my way of saying THANK YOU for what you have done. HAPPY TEACHER’S DAY to you all
Fr Fuez
Fr Leo
Tr Shaila
Tr Kanta
Sir Shailendra
Sir Katale
Tr Vaibhava
Tr Marilyn D’souza
Tr. Sheela
Tr Shinde
Tr Lone
Gadgil Sir
Ugale Sir
Dhale Sir
Kurode Madam
Teachers and the principal were closeted in the staff room where they would enjoy samosas, pakodas, tea and sweets too. I didn’t mind them eating that; after all my teachers deserved all this for there hard work. Also we had been given a cream-roll each!!!. What more can a 5th std student expect and to top it up even Shaila Tr (my science teacher) had gratefully accepted the dalia which I had got for here. She was another good teacher I had in my formative years. Even in std 5th she encouraged us to try to look beyond the textbooks. She was what led me to the school library where I opened my first ‘Tell me WHY?’ volume.
Of course there were some teachers we liked ;) Pardon me if you think I am going off track here but then it happens to every boy I guess around std 8th -9th (ahem, ahem) and considering that we were a all boys school (proud to hail from such a place !!!) we did like some of our teachers a bit more. It was a coincidence that most of these were from the computer department (and may be there I decided that my future lay with computers ;) , this is a filler please ignore) and a few were teaching in the primary sections. I didn’t understand why we used to like teachers who recently joined ;) Hehehe!! It was these teacher’s who got the maximum flowers on teacher’s day. I always connected this somehow to the rose days’ I latter witnessed during my graduation days ;) .We even caught a couple of parents (wanted to use the singular but that would have been out of place J) sneaking a flower or two to these likable teachers. That made for good lunch time discussions.
Finally on the 5th Sept in Std 9th I was picked up to take a class of geography in std 7. That was a challenge. Guys in Std 7 were good. I mean they were definitely better than the primary section guys in questioning. They were going to listen to me real hard and not gonna take any shit. I mean I had done that when I was in std 7th. “Full le liya yaar Advait tune usko”, was the compliment I had received then from my bench partner ;) Now I was at the other end.
Nothing spectacular happened that day. Meri kisine nahi phadi. After all there is only one Advait; I thought and smiled. I had prepared well for that half hour lecture. It was related to the grasslands; the Pampas, the Prairies and all. I had taken loads of extra information and the guys were hooked on. It was a delight to say the least.
This Teacher’s Day I woke up late. And only now I realized that it was Sept 5th. Now-a- days the dates don’t matter much, the days are important (especially the weekends). I miss my teachers. I still feel that jus one more lecture would do no harm. I want to go and sit on my bench back in school, want to solve those Pythagoras equations. I want to pin point the coal mines on the map of India. I want to solve integrals and derivatives at lightening speed and that too at 5:45am in the morning under the nose of Gadgil sir. I want to understand again how the DC motor works.
All I need is jus one more lecture.
I salute you my teachers. Naming you here in my blog is my way of saying THANK YOU for what you have done. HAPPY TEACHER’S DAY to you all
Fr Fuez
Fr Leo
Tr Shaila
Tr Kanta
Sir Shailendra
Sir Katale
Tr Vaibhava
Tr Marilyn D’souza
Tr. Sheela
Tr Shinde
Tr Lone
Gadgil Sir
Ugale Sir
Dhale Sir
Kurode Madam
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
The TICKET
He held the reservation ticket in pride as if it was certificate of his merit. Well of course it is a certificate of my merit he thought. Didn’t it take merit in planning ones trip home before hand? Didn’t it take merit in planning to go to office late so that one could go to the ticket counter in time to get the reservation and that too a window seat. Not everybody could do it and precisely that was the reason he had got the ticket. He smiled at his own thoughts and waited for 2nd Sept -11:00pm. It was precisely a day and a few hours away.
On the 2nd Sept at 10:30pm he was standing near his house waiting to catch a rickshaw to take him to the bus stand. From the last 15mins he was standing there checking his watch a bit too frequently. Finally he caught sight of a rickshaw nearing him. He flagged it and it stopped. The Rs 120 which the rickshaw driver demanded was a bit too much but then he did not have time to get into a discussion about how the rickshaw-wallahs or for that matter everybody conspires to get more money out of a software professional.
At 10:56pm he was near the ticket counter where a day back he had got his reservation or as he thought of it his certificate of merit. But now he was in a hurry. He enquired about the bus and was told the bus had already left a minute back. He was confused; he had not planned for this. Well the logical thing to do was to ask about the next bus which left at 11:30pm. The man at the counter got the drift and promptly gave him the seat in the 11:30pm bus after making the requisite entries. He hadn’t hoped that this would be smooth but then he had done it. If the reservation was a certificate of merit this turn around was definitely the WINNER’S CUP!!!!
The bus started on time. He was a bit surprised about this. In the last 6 years of his travels from Pune to Nashik this was possibly the first time any asiad had ever left on time or before time. Things changing for the better he thought to himself and increased the volume of his ipod.
He did not like or despise the Pune Nashik journey but then he had done that journey maybe a thousand times before and would have to do it a thousand times in the future. He just prayed that sleep would come to him easily. He had a hectic day tomorrow starting with getting the Ganpati idol and all the decoration which goes into it. Sleep was what he needed the most. The time his eyes closed the bus had just started off from Nashik Phata. That was the last time he would sleep on the bus.
The hooting of horns, people talking and the lights in the bus broke his sleep. He opened his eyes and instinctively checked his watch. It was 2:30AM and Linkin Park was blasting his head off. He looked out but he could not make sense where the bus had reached. It must be near the Chandanapuri ghat, a traffic jam he thought that is so common in these rains and he prepared to close his eyes. There was some commotion going on near the driver’s cabin, he looked up and saw that some people were getting into his bus. That was not usual for sure. Wasn’t the bus kinda full? And from when did the asiad guys started taking people on board without a ticket? Anyways I have my seat he thought and threw a look of disdain at the people standing.
But then a sight caught his eye and he could not close his eyes the remaining journey. He say a man holding a handkerchief to his head. Blood was dripping from the handkerchief and the man was in great pain. He looked at others and there were people with cuts, bruises, swollen foreheads all looking disoriented. What had actually happened? He enquired about what had happened and he was told that the 11:00PM asiad had met with an accident and that the driver had died on the spot while many passengers were injured.
He could not believe his ears. He went numb for a few seconds. That was supposed to be his bus; he had blamed the rickshaw wallah when he came to know that he had missed the 11PM asaid at Shivajinagar. Now he did not know what to do.
He felt regret at the initial thoughts which had come to his mind when he saw these people boarding the bus. He quickly shifted a bit and offered a part of his seat to the person who was standing near him. The person standing near accepted it gratefully. His seat was no longer cherished, if luck or whatever they say wouldn’t have been on his side he would well have been on the other side.
The person to whom he offered was saying something he thought, but it was not audible and he was not in a position to listen to anything. He was just staring out of the window into nothingness.
Images of the ticket counter when he got the reservation done, the rickshaw ride which made him miss the 11PM bus, the delight on getting the seat in the 11:30PM bus on the earlier reservation without having to haggle for it and finally regret on seeing the condition of his co-passengers started flickering in front of his eyes. They just came by randomly, no connection nothing.
He did not understand how much time passed but on seeing the Nashik Road flyover approaching he got up from his seat fumbled a feeble TAKE CARE to the person next to him and got out of the bus.
He put his hand in his shirt pocket took out the EPITOME of PLANNING (the reservation ticket of the 11:00PM bus) and tore it into countless pieces. He flung the pieces overhead.
All this was never planned was the only thought which came to his mind.
On the 2nd Sept at 10:30pm he was standing near his house waiting to catch a rickshaw to take him to the bus stand. From the last 15mins he was standing there checking his watch a bit too frequently. Finally he caught sight of a rickshaw nearing him. He flagged it and it stopped. The Rs 120 which the rickshaw driver demanded was a bit too much but then he did not have time to get into a discussion about how the rickshaw-wallahs or for that matter everybody conspires to get more money out of a software professional.
At 10:56pm he was near the ticket counter where a day back he had got his reservation or as he thought of it his certificate of merit. But now he was in a hurry. He enquired about the bus and was told the bus had already left a minute back. He was confused; he had not planned for this. Well the logical thing to do was to ask about the next bus which left at 11:30pm. The man at the counter got the drift and promptly gave him the seat in the 11:30pm bus after making the requisite entries. He hadn’t hoped that this would be smooth but then he had done it. If the reservation was a certificate of merit this turn around was definitely the WINNER’S CUP!!!!
The bus started on time. He was a bit surprised about this. In the last 6 years of his travels from Pune to Nashik this was possibly the first time any asiad had ever left on time or before time. Things changing for the better he thought to himself and increased the volume of his ipod.
He did not like or despise the Pune Nashik journey but then he had done that journey maybe a thousand times before and would have to do it a thousand times in the future. He just prayed that sleep would come to him easily. He had a hectic day tomorrow starting with getting the Ganpati idol and all the decoration which goes into it. Sleep was what he needed the most. The time his eyes closed the bus had just started off from Nashik Phata. That was the last time he would sleep on the bus.
The hooting of horns, people talking and the lights in the bus broke his sleep. He opened his eyes and instinctively checked his watch. It was 2:30AM and Linkin Park was blasting his head off. He looked out but he could not make sense where the bus had reached. It must be near the Chandanapuri ghat, a traffic jam he thought that is so common in these rains and he prepared to close his eyes. There was some commotion going on near the driver’s cabin, he looked up and saw that some people were getting into his bus. That was not usual for sure. Wasn’t the bus kinda full? And from when did the asiad guys started taking people on board without a ticket? Anyways I have my seat he thought and threw a look of disdain at the people standing.
But then a sight caught his eye and he could not close his eyes the remaining journey. He say a man holding a handkerchief to his head. Blood was dripping from the handkerchief and the man was in great pain. He looked at others and there were people with cuts, bruises, swollen foreheads all looking disoriented. What had actually happened? He enquired about what had happened and he was told that the 11:00PM asiad had met with an accident and that the driver had died on the spot while many passengers were injured.
He could not believe his ears. He went numb for a few seconds. That was supposed to be his bus; he had blamed the rickshaw wallah when he came to know that he had missed the 11PM asaid at Shivajinagar. Now he did not know what to do.
He felt regret at the initial thoughts which had come to his mind when he saw these people boarding the bus. He quickly shifted a bit and offered a part of his seat to the person who was standing near him. The person standing near accepted it gratefully. His seat was no longer cherished, if luck or whatever they say wouldn’t have been on his side he would well have been on the other side.
The person to whom he offered was saying something he thought, but it was not audible and he was not in a position to listen to anything. He was just staring out of the window into nothingness.
Images of the ticket counter when he got the reservation done, the rickshaw ride which made him miss the 11PM bus, the delight on getting the seat in the 11:30PM bus on the earlier reservation without having to haggle for it and finally regret on seeing the condition of his co-passengers started flickering in front of his eyes. They just came by randomly, no connection nothing.
He did not understand how much time passed but on seeing the Nashik Road flyover approaching he got up from his seat fumbled a feeble TAKE CARE to the person next to him and got out of the bus.
He put his hand in his shirt pocket took out the EPITOME of PLANNING (the reservation ticket of the 11:00PM bus) and tore it into countless pieces. He flung the pieces overhead.
All this was never planned was the only thought which came to his mind.
(This write up is inspired from a true story which happened with me on the night of 2nd September 2008. Some facts have been distorted for the sake of story telling.)
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