Man and the Pickle Jar

“Aakhir tumhara naam kya hai?” said the heroine with innocence in her eyes and profound thankfulness in her voice. “Wohi jo har ek aurat ke jubaan pe rehta hai!!!! M.A.R.D” said the hero, while the background score which was building up all through the fight sequence reached a crescendo and almost on cue he tore open the top buttons of his shirt to reveal that manly (read hairy) chest on which was his birthmark, etched by the hand of God.

The birthmark read “MARD” albeit in Devanagri for the subaltern hordes of the country.

I woke up with a start. It was a dream but an adrenaline pumping one. Yess…I was so ready ..so ready for this Monday!!! My hand instinctively reached to the other half of my double bed. Empty. I should have known. She was very particular about her morning jogs. Without letting my enthusiasm dampen I got out of bed and got about getting ready for office. She came in 20 mins later all huffing and puffing after the jog and not to mention a bit sweaty too. I cleared my mind off the fantasies and let the decent thought of “She looked more beautiful after her morning jog” settle in. She bobbed around in the living room, flinging the day’s newspaper on the center table with a loud “Good Morning” (the ipod was still blaring in her ears no doubt) and giving my beer belly a playful nudge with a look off “You should jog too with me in the morning too”!! I smiled it away like always and all was well in this world....until…

We were having parathas for breakfast and I was enjoying them with butter when she said, “Try the pickle, my mom jus sent it yesterday with Sheela didi”. I was not going to turn it down because the pickle was the only thing after their daughter of course that I liked of the Sharma household (my in-laws). I took the jar and gave the lid a twist. But it wouldn’t budge. I should have given up then and there but for my male ego. I tried harder. She looked from her place at the dining table and said “Whats taking you so long? Are the Sharma’s too hard for you? Haha”. I bit my lip and tried harder but even then the lid wouldn’t turn. I looked at the watch to show impatience. She got the drift and mocked, “Ohh honey, don’t you think you have a meeting for which you are running late already!!!”. Making a sad face I picked up the bait, “ Its Monday today rite? Damn I forgot. Yes, yes I do have a meeting to attend. Will have that pickle later. Bye” I almost ran outside the door. “Drive carefully”, she said behind me almost suppressing a giggle. This Monday was going to be disastrous.

As I made my way through the traffic to my office I was thinking of that pickle bottle. It was a letdown of the worst kind. The “MARD” dream and this pickle incident were an irony which was just too much for me to handle. Today the lane cutting motorists and the stray cattle on the highway didn’t bother me, I was much pre-occupied in trying to figure a way to redeem my MANHOOD.

The first half of the day in office breezed past and soon it was lunch time. I had forgotten about the pickle jar incident until Mansi opened her lunch box. We were a group of 8 colleagues (now friends) who used to have lunch together and would invariably have fun discussing office gossip and the works. As Mansi took out her lunch I saw there a jar much like the one at home but a lot smaller. Nonetheless it was a pickle jar. Mansi tried to open it but gave up after a few seconds. “Damn, is it a rule that pickle jars are to be hard open or what?” I was sitting right next to her. Under normal circumstances I would have helped but not today. No, my ego could do without another pickle jar for the day. I looked away pretending to observe something. In the mean time from the corner of my eye I saw Raj picking up the jar and effortlessly open it. “Here you go!!!!” said Raj. “Ohh HE-MAN, you did that without even summoning the powers of GREY SKULL. Haha.”, laughed Mansi. Everybody joined in the joke except me.

I had a much bigger problem at hand. I don’t remember what everybody talked about at lunch. I was lost in my own thoughts. For a fleeting moment I thought of inviting the group over for dinner today at home that way we would have enough hands to open the damn pickle jar. But I was quick to bury that thought. It was me myself who had to redeem my MANHOOD.

I hate gyms, don’t ask me why as you will get a Himesh-esque reply, “Its complicated”. But I needed iron to get me out of my present predicament. Just like the cry of “Gimme RED” from that old EVERREADY commercial I too needed something. I wrapped up my work early and sneaked out of the office building into the gym. I didn’t want anybody to notice me leaving especially my lunch group lest I became toast of next day’s lunch.

It was a relief to see the gym empty. I usually get a complex on entering the gym, what with those hulks pumping kilos and endless kilos of iron, grunting, sweating and admiring themselves in the mirror after every 5 mins. I warmed up a bit and almost clandestinely did 5 rounds of 5 kgs dumbbells. As I emerged refreshed from the shower I felt energy surging through me though my arms pained a bit. But in Rocky style I commanded myself, “Pain is good….pain is good” and I was ready to redeem my MANHOOD.

I had left home in the morning like an exile but I entered in the evening like an Emperor. Such was my wishful splendor that I ignored my wife’s “How was your day?” question and proceed to the pickle jar placed on the second compartment of the shelf. I know my wife was looking in awe as I picked up the jar and held the lid tightly with as expressionless face as possible. “What are u doing honey?” she asked with concern. “Don’t worry darling, I have this under control” I said much like Bruce Willis I think.

Then with the might instilled in me by the 5 rounds of the 5kgs dumbbells I had pumped just an hour ago I gave the lid a mighty twist….

The lid flew off without any resistance and struck the wall clock gifted by my in laws when they had first visited our new flat. The glass of the clock face shattered and I looked miserably at her. She was turning red with anger and the emperor in me was fast becoming an exile again.

“What exactly do you think you were doing there? That pickle bottle was already open ohh Hercules!!! Infact you did all the work in the morning itself. I just needed to give it a nudge to open it after you left. I felt sorry that you didn’t get any pickle to taste but now I think you were not worth it in the first place. That clock was gifted by my parents, do you even remember.” , she went on and on I don’t know for how long cos when I looked at the clock closely the flying lid had not only shattered the glass covering but also taken the minute-hand hostage. It just lay there trying to break free from the lid’s clutches, but in vain. My arms were now positively throbbing with pain.

We had a silent dinner and she retired to bed the moment the dinner was done and the dining table was tidied up. It had been 3 hours since I was apologizing but she had not budged. With flopped shoulders and pained armed (now I hated gyms even more) I slid into my half of the bed. I tried to make small talk but was greeted with her silence and her obstinate back. The day had been miserable, I thought and with the efforts taken at the gym I soon drifted into sleep.

I don’t know how long I was sleeping but I was been woken up by my wife’s voice. She had forgiven me, for she was talking to me now. I strained to open my eyes but I was too sleepy. I mumbled too her, “What is the matter??.” She continued in a soft tone, “Its been a long time you have been a man you see. 2 days is long gap.hehe” she pinched my back. “Wake up BE A MAN!!!” she mewed.

BE A MAN was the only thing that registered in my brain and in my sleep I mumbled, “Ok, fine only if you say so. Pass me the pickle jar quickly, will you? I need to catch some sleep too”.

I dreamt the MARD dream that night too :)

MY MOM RETIRES AS HEADMISTRESS! (A successful journey of a mother shared by her daughter Ketaki Barde, also a teacher)

For years together every 31^st May is the end of a long vacation for school teachers. But the 31^st May this year marks the end of an era in the world of teaching itself for my mother, Mrs. Savita Borate. She retires as the Headmistress of Maharashtra High School, Upnagar, Nashik (the school that in recent years came to limelight on account of the UNO acclaimed Ozone Day Celebrations under her guidance and leadership).

On the 29^th May 1973 a young girl, Miss Mangal Keshav Mandavgane, B.A. (Hons.) in English from Jalgaon stepped into a new world in Nashik. The young man (T. S. Borate) she was married to was a professor of English in a local college. He has been a respectable self-made man who adheres to his own principles and is ready to face the consequences thereof. As she started sharing a new life with him, the young girl entered the new role of a mother. I was born on 29^th July 1974. The first four years of her life thereafter passed raising me, but then she became restless with thoughts about her own future. There were dreams to be brought into the world of reality, one of her father’s dreams being that she should, like himself, be a renowned teacher of English. She took a decision: joined the B.Ed. Course in the city college. That was in the year 1978. It was not easy to pursue her studies, leaving her four year old child for almost the whole day at home in Nashik-Road, daily up and down commutation by road-train (a special and unique means of city transport then introduced by the M.S.R.T.C.) between Nashik-Road and Nashik, which were two independent municipalities then, and then the daily household chores. Her hard and sincere work bore the expected fruits --- she secured a First Class in her B.Ed. After this nothing could stop her from attaining what she is today. She took her first and only job as a teacher in the year 1979. For the last 31 years she has relentlessly done her duty both as a teacher and a mother of two (me and my brother, Advait).

These 31 years just did not slide by smoothly. Life had some dark shades along with the bright ones. My mother faced them courageously. The first two decades of her married life passed by following the same routine. This was because her children were always in the forefront for her. Following their time table, catering to their needs and managing her own school job was life for her. But after my brother joined engineering in Pune, she decided to pursue her M.A. She completed her M.A. from Y.C.M.O.U. at the age of 50 with a First Class. Now it was the beginning of a glorious period in her life. Her seniority at her workplace had the post of Headmistress (the highest rank in her profession!) in store for her. She completed her D.S.M. (Diploma in School Management) before shouldering this responsibility. At the age of 54 my mother was appointed Headmistress of her school. In just about four years she managed to attract ten lakh rupees by way of donations and got a multi-purpose hall built for her beloved school in addition to replenishing the school library by adding to it books worth one lakh rupees. The pride I feel in mentioning this cannot be described in words!

Today, on May 31, 2010 my mother retires after a long successful career. I consider her as the epitome for all working mothers! She has maintained an excellent balance in all her relations.

All that I can do is pray to God to bless her with healthy life for years to come!

Mom! Now is the time for you to enjoy your life to the fullest and go back to your first love - singing - in which you had graduated yourself just as school-going girl in Jalgaon … JUST DO IT!

--- Ketaki Barde

New Era English School, Nashik

My Summer Vacation

In less than 15 days from now the schools will reopen and if Mother Nature is mercifully then students will plod their way towards another academic year with their newly acquired rainy shoes (gum boots) soiled with muck. For some the just elapsed summer vacations will remain like a speck of memory in their soon to be re-formatted brains while for some it will be remain as an essay titled “My Summer Vacation” to be graded by an English teacher who thinks she is of a Victorian descent.

Don’t be surprised as to how I am sure about all this; cos thanks to my parents and now my nephew I seem to consider myself intrinsically involved with the Indian Academic calendar.
Back in school I always thought that vacations were like a rude shock. You think I am out of my mind, but you see the light once you go through the different events which made up my summer vacation in the year 1996 AD.

1) The “hyper active” friends: Vacations are a time to relax. I believe that even now and I am damn sure that I had this view even back in school all through my primary, secondary and higher secondary. Most of us would have been blessed with “hyper active” friends. Yeah, yeah I am talking about the same bunch of guys who used to stay in your building or locality and on the very first day of the summer vacation call for your blood to join them in a cricket match at 6:30AM!!!! You could not lay asleep cos now for the entire month you had to be a part of the team and turning up late for a single match (more so the very first) would not go down well with the management (My building board for control of cricket was much more strict than a certain PCB).

2) The ‘hobby class’: The cricket would not go all day cos now with the vacations TV viewing was a bit less restricted. But that was only after the “Summer Vacation” supplement of the local daily was thoroughly read, the six differences between the 2 pictures meticulously pointed out and yes that picture of the deer and the butterfly was colored with crayons. After this ordeal when TV viewing would begin, in would enter Sunita aunty with a proposal for my mother.
Sunita aunty: So have Advait’s summer vacations begun?
Mother: Yes, today is the first day of the vacation.
Sunita aunty: Oh, this is great. Have you heard that my eldest daughter has just started her own drawing class. I told her I will talk to Borate aunty, she will definitely enroll Advait as he has his summer vacation.
Mother: …
Sunita aunty: We all know how Advait is good at his drawing. Oh what is this. Look how well he has coloured this deer. (looking at the just colored deer. It was more of a modern art job, Mr Hussein would have loved it though)
Sunita aunty: He can start right from today. Why waste a day na.?? He can come over at 10:30am. Don’t worry about the fees, we will take care of that na….(sheepish smile).
Mother: huh…..ok…

3) The load shedding: You are done with cricket, you are done with the ‘hobby class’. Post lunch at 3:00PM you frantically switch on Cartoon Network. Its time for the POWER ZONE to begin. You are ready to absolve everybody (the hyper active friends, Sunita aunty and her eldest daughter) of their sins as you are sure of the feast: SWAT CATS followed by the CENTURIONS followed by THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JHONNY QUEST, when at 3:15PM the lights go off. It is too early in the scheme of things to dream of inverters (we are talking about circa 1996 AD).

4) The uninvited guests: The lights come back at 5:00PM and you thank your stars that atleast I would get to see some WWF action (yes it was WWF then not WWE) when within 5 minutes the doorbell rings and in walk Mr and Mrs Ramamurthy. They are fellow teachers in my mother’s school. Don’t forget that the teachers also have a summer vacation at the same. How I hate their kid who at this very moment would be lapping up the WWF bouts.

5) The journey: Just a week into the vacation, where atleast for the last 2 days I was able to catch up with some cartoons and a few wrestling matches thanks to the endless repeats, my mother stumbles upon the brilliant idea of visiting her brother in Nagpur. Sorry, did I say stumble. I was wrong, infact it was already planned and the rail tickets were booked well in advance. But what is the use of telling a 12 year old a week in advance that he would be taken to Nagpur to his uncle’s place and that he will be back only a week before his school re-opens. Nagpur in the heat of May, just imagine!!!

So Mrs Rodrigues (my English teacher not sure about the Victorian descent) this is my essay on “My Summer Vacation”. When you grade it please take it with more than a pinch of salt!!!!

P.S: My subsequent vacations were much better and I am sure my parents did not refer to the Reader Digest’s “10 ways of Effective Parenting” cover story !!!!

Bakarwadi Bashers te Maggikar XI

With Pune being the latest city to enter the IPL family, the city is abuzz with rumors of what the team from Pune will be called...will it be Bakarwadi Bashers, Mastani XI, Shaniwar Wada Sena...what about the main sponsors..Chitale Bandhu, Champion Sports and yes Durvankur Dining hall too..How abt Hotel Vaishali: The makers of the official S.P.D.P of the home team..or CAD B and CAD M served at those drinks break during a home game...hehehe..the possibilities are endless.

Well so what even we all were still were at Maggikar....this is how the team would have shaped up!!!!

1) Ashok Khedkar: He will be the star foreign player of the team. Drafted from a county in UK or Australia

2) Pankaj: Apart from playing the cricket he will be chief instructor to the team cheer leaders..every six will be followed by a WAVEWAAAAA

3)Pappu Parit: Will be the upcoming talent of the team...remember he sacrificed those front teeth for the game.

4)Chaitanya Kekre: Brings in the much needed management skills and ofcourse the PR touch to the team

5)Dhaval: Ofcourse he will be the face to look out for in those ads which cheer us up apart from the cricket not to mention

6)Sachin Joshi: The self proclaimed captain, coach and yes that mysterious blogger who rocked KKR last season

7) Swanand: Another of the new talent, who spends as much on his hair style as his sunday night dinner when the mess is closed (remember PALACE guys)

8)Khawal: The bad boy of the team..who will not think twice when it comes to slappin back bhajji

9)Addya Deshmukh: The Indian Fair skinned Hunk...

10) Allaya: He will not be available for all the games, cos he might just not wake up in time...puccchh...kay re gundya zhopu de na!!!!

11)Advait: At number 11 I will be the 12th man of the team....

so folks their is our XI....now tell me wht you want!!! (dnt tell me you want the cheer leaders in those frenchies which chaintanya showed off at the balcony..plzzzz)!!!

On a serious note come next year I will be rooting for the Pune team (whatever Sahara names it) and GOD (dont ask me who I am refering to as GOD..plzz!!!)

P.S: Maggikar is the place where I spent the most memorable days of my engg life...When I learnt that Pune got an IPL franchisee there it was clear in my mind what the team will be like atleast for us Maggikars...I am not sure how many of them read my blog..But I have started a thread on our orkut community as well. Thanks Gundya for generating the interest in the topic and scrapping all the guys about. Though I will not be suprised if only you end up commenting on the topic