Raining in the dark...

Its raining heavily outside, my house is situated amidst the hills of Pune and it feels so serene to just stare out of my window watching the  heavy drops pattering on the glass. The ideal scenario would be sitting by the window sill , sipping a steaming hot cup of tea with a Ruskin Bond novel propped in front of me . All by myself, just the rain for company.

    I spent most of my childhood out of India, but always used to be here during the monsoons. Two months of summer vacations were spent at my grandmother's place in a small town of Karnataka. Those days, we didn't have an invertor, or the luxury of electricity 24*7. Many a times during a downpour, we were rewarded with an electricity cut, however ,I really looked forward to those candle lit evenings.

  My grandparents, aunt and brother(who was almost always buried deep in his books)gathered in the drawing room in submission to nature's way of putting work to a standstill.

 The dimness of light was soon conquered by the brightness of chatter . Everyone would forget their daily routine for a bit and get engrossed in stories each one had to offer.My grand mom's recount of the gossip in our lane, my grand dad, giving us a word or two of wisdom, my brother and I fighting away to glory ... How I used to love the conversations ! My mum still complains as to how I just can't stop my prattle once I start , maybe its a habit that has stemmed in me since I was little .

   The years have passed, but everytime it rains I remember those dark yet bright evenings. They bring back memories of times ,when I didn't know of the existence of a laptop. When a computer meant a big machine that big people used,when talking on the telephone with a loved one, brought memories of togetherness and a sudden craving to meet them. I find it difficult to believe how technology has spread its wings over the vast expanse of India in just a span of ten years.

  My grandparents still stay there, but now they have an invertor ,and electricity seldom goes off . I haven't visited the town for almost two years and nowadays the longest time I can go for is two days .

   My brother is well settled in a city far away, and I don't remember the last time all of us were together in that ancestral house. I can talk to everyone over the phone, its so common now, but there are no rainy laughter filled nights any longer. Everyone has all the luxury in the world, but I yearn for those stories,my grand mother's lap and those bright candles...

Up and down...

When I want to go to the third floor, he opens the door for me . When I want to go back down, he’s there yet again.

Strange, I don’t quite remember how he looks. I think he was dressed in a bluish grey uniform.

   Did he have something in his hand ? I can’t recollect. Has my memory gone bad ? I’ve been there about 15 times, how do I not remember ?

Yes, there was a chair , that beige colored plastic one, sold for peanuts in any market . He’s almost always propped down on it . The man is probably 40 years of age, maybe older, his hair was greying, slightly bald also .

   Did he have a moustache ? Strange I can’t recall, ? I’ve been there about 15 times, how do I not remember ?

“Are you here all the time ‘kaka’ ?”

He wasn’t used to being questioned.

“ Ahh, this is a very surprising turn of events” .

He wasn’t used to being spoken to .

   Does, he have a book for company ? Did he wear specs ? Strange ,I can’t conjure up his image .. I’ve been there about 15 times, how do I not remember ?

“Yes, I am here for eight hours, every day sometimes 16 “.

“Wow !! Don’t you ever go dizzy , I mean its tough just travelling up and down all day, no ?? I get a jolt in my head and its just 3 floors , damn claustrophobic out here ya ...talk about boredom ”

“It’s my job, I’ve been used to this, this is all I do“

“Hmm...yeah I guess “

As usual, the third floor came and the door opened ..

“ I’ve seen this girl often and I know her very well. She’s always yapping about a certain college and certain people. Her subjects never change, her topics never change, her clothes ? Ah, well I remember all of them and her friends as well. But did she see me for the first time today ? Atleast she did , but why does she always talk of the same things, she sees the bright sunlight everyday and her heart and head aren’t shrouded by circumstances, the world is filled with variety, but hell, she doesn’t remember“

“Bye ‘kaka’ “

“There someone calls me from the terrace , 176^th time I’m going there today”

..and up went the lift , with that plastic chair and that petite man .

   Yet again, I forgot did I ask him his name ? He must’ve mentioned, he smiled atleast, for the first time I noticed, but his name ...what was it again ? Something beginning with ‘A’ was it or ‘O’.. ? I’ve been there about 15 times, how do I not remember ?

Dancing Beads ...

It was a crisp Monday morning . Ten year old Amu was hastily getting ready for her school science exhibition.
All the students from toddlers to young adults in senior school put forth their ingenuity by displaying their science projects to parents , teachers and any interested onlookers .
Amu could still recollect the day her teacher had made an announcement about the event.Her vulnerable little head had immediately put itself into action .Like little kids her age, she promptly saw dreams of putting up something spectacular, a rare creation, that was unusual and unique.
However,she had this peculiar habit of trying to please everybody , she wanted to be noticed and praised for what she had done .Her efforts often went in vain and she ended up being just another contestant .
Weeks of toil, careful scouring through numerous books and a through thesis of 101 science projects pursued until finally she found her niche.

A bright colourful kaleidoscope .
Three solid pieces of wood were carefully carved out into neatly measured rectangles. Mirrors of the same dimension were pasted on them .Pastel coloured beads were then stuck on one open end of the incomplete pyramid using butter paper and voila, Amu’s little dream was created.

Amu made an early appearance at the venue ,her hair neatly combed ,wearing a pressed uniform with tie et all and unceasingly practising lines of how she would explain her wondrous kaleidoscope .
Turn by turn many guests arrived and patiently saw the projects ,the morning gracefully blended into twilight.The day was wearing Amu out , yet she was ecstatic , her project was marvelled at by many and her efforts were given due credit . It was like she was living her dream , never had so much attention and praise been bestowed upon her. It was like a butterfly coming out of her cocoon, spreading her pretty wings to fly !

At the finale of the exhibition, the chief guest made his entry. Flanked by the school principal on one side and his P.A on the other , he wanted to make a brief visit , as a customary obligation on social events . Barely glancing at the projects on display, he anchored to Amu’s table . Being a commerce graduate and a dud at science , he was puzzled looking at the kaleidoscope .It had no motors around it , no electro-magnets ,no batteries...was this object even scientific ??

Amu being her usual self, eager to impress, cleverly demonstrated her machine , with every single detail..He was mesmerised and suddenly got enganged in an animated babble with the principal before resuming his duty of visiting projects . The principal strangely stayed back .

“Amu , the chief guest loved your work ! Its a great effort , was it very difficult to make?”. Amu was zapped beyond words . Promptly she replied “No madam , it was easy , just a bit of effort here and there “ . “Ah , very well then, I am sure you wouldn’t mind giving it to the chief guest will you ? A small present to his daughter , a momento of our function ,can you redesign its exteriors and bring it to school tomorrow morning ?”

Amu was lost beyond words ,she couldn’t think of anything to say, she had suddenly been catapulted into a scary situation.On one hand the principal was giving her credit for her work,the chief guest had chosen her project over 100 others as a token for his little girl and on the other, it just plain hurt to do away with this tiny miracle .
Amu nodded meekly in consent . Her incessant need to please got the better of her and as the evening came to its end, so did her enthusiasm. She returned home with mixed feelings .
Before she settled into bed that night, she made a neat cover for the kaleidoscope , pasted white paper around it and drew tiny pictures so that it resembled a very attractive toy .

Tomorrow morning , it would be gone . The kaleidoscope had given her a sense of popularity. After the chief guest made his request, Amu was the source of envy for all her friends , yet she was morose . She loved the dancing beads , the natural play of light ,the rythm to which the beads swayed and their colourful reflections had become a part of her life and to just give it away to someone who could never realise its worth .The guest’s daughter would probably just toy with it for a little while and then it would lay forgotten, whereas Amu would’ve treasured it for a life time .Despite this strong sense of belonging, she could just submissively agree to what the principal asked of her .
Yes, indeed she had become a celebrity over night in school ,she was recognised now and not just a little girl lost in oblivion, but it came at a cost and a cost she’d remember for many years to come .
Fifteen years from then , she reminisces , had she said no , the coloured beads would still be dancing with her .

Pretty child...

I just returned from a bit of grocery shopping at the 'kiranmalyacha dukaan' under my apartment. In the usual rumble for change , I picked up an eclair in exchange for my one rupee dime .

I love chocolates so the change was just an excuse to guiltlessly indulge my sweet tooth .As I came out , I, saw a middle aged lady and her little 4 year old on a bike outside , On a sudden whim I walked up to her and offered her the eclair .The lady was taken aback and mildly elated :) and promptly handed over the toffee to her toddler , who was restlessly standing behind the handle of her vehicle .

On receiving the chocolate,the kid glanced at me and smiled . His eyes were so innocent and reflected genuine gratitude and happiness .That smile from a strange kid totally made my day .

The thing about kids is that they don't put forethought in whatever they do . He got the toffee and immediately felt this sudden surge of trust and liking for the giver, regardless of who he/she was, its just this inherent quality of theirs that doesn't over analyse their actions, they feel happy they show it, they're upset, they make a hue and cry of things but make sure their point is across, there's no facade of any kind .

I always feel that as one grows older he becomes tactful and diplomatic, the uncanny demeanor leaves him gradually .Each word spoken is cleverly wrought . Sometimes, as much as I'd like to avoid it , I get sucked in to the whirlpool of this mindset and have to go with the flow, standing apart just pulls you in with greater force .

I wish like the kid, I could be so reflective in the way I think, I try hard not to measure my words and speak, of course it may bite me in the end, if I'm too frank and win me foes instead of friends but I admire people when nice or not , they're an image of their true self.

I'd like my actions to mirror what I think, my expressions , a reflection of the intricacies of my mind , my words should convey just what I feel, thats what I mean when I say I'd like to keep the child alive in me ....

Fergusson..

I really hate leaving my blog idle for long .So many ideas come to my head however, I just don't have the time to put them onto paper or in my case, console.

Nevertheless, here's an old offering. It seems childish, was written five years back, but its my favourite.

All of 15 , I had moved into a new city seeking greener pastures . A new college , a new life , excitement failed to cease and everyday was a new discovery . From a secluded and protected environment I was catapulted into a totally new world full of different people and varied lifestyles ..and boy did I enjoy it !! :D

My college , however claims a special place in my heart ....

Sunday , September 11, 2005

MY FIRST DAY AT FERGUSSON

<>I combed my hair, I brushed my teeth
And ate my breakfast in a sway
I hurled my bag , my arm underneath
And left my house far away .

<>To catch a rickshaw ,I had to jog
I had to make it to college in time
On the street I looked like a panic stricken frog
However , I didn’t care as the day was my prime

<>I reached my class fifteen minutes late
Shamelessly I entered with a sheepish grin
I found a place near my mate
While the teacher tried to quieten the merry din

<>I glanced around to see people sundry
And indeed saw a varied crowd
Bookworms and nerds sat nearby
While the backbenches were ruled by the flashy and proud

<>I saw a boy with long , curly locks
And a girl with red streaked hair
Another lad wore shocking pink socks
I couldn’t help but appallingly stare!

<>The teachers were yet another surprise
Each different from the other as chalk and cheese
One old dame who seemed pretty wise
Had a flower in her plat that made me sneeze !!

<>Some of them did laudably teach
While a few made my fresh brains rot
Others recklessly continued to preach
Seldom practising what they taught

<>The college campus was a sheer delight
I adored the gigantic buildings of the old age
Although the overgrown gardens were quite a sight
It had managed to maintain a regal image

<>The canteen however I tried to evade
It offered nothing I could greedily condiment
On its table soggy sandwiches were laid
Spreading around an abominable scent

<>Fergusson didn’t seem to differ from the rest
It wasn’t astonishingly majestic and divine
Yet I found it better than the best
For the mere reason that it was mine!!!!

For the sake of it...

Have any of you seen laborers near a construction site ? They get daily wages for their work, stacking one brick on top of the other and carrying lumsome amounts of cement,stones, mud and what not on their heads from one place to another. Everyday,their incharge looks into the day's accomplishments and gives them wages, which they use to buy their daily rations.

What happens if the bricks aren't stacked properly on top of each other, what happens if the foundation isn't built correctly, what happens if due to this attitude of getting things done, one day many years later, the building breaks , because of bad construction, bringing in its wake death of simpletons, a loss of money, lots of court cases against the builders, a loss of jobs ?

Who is to blame ? Is it that daily wage earner who for the sake of his job and dismal economical condition ten years back, didn't lay the bricks right, is it the incharge who to wrap up the project fast enough, was lenient and didn't look into the site with care, is it that man who didn't supply authentic material to save costs or maybe pocket some finances, is it the family that chose to choose this house, without thorough research on the quality of work of the builder, or is it those few people who's lives went into jeopardy because a few others didn't do their work right ?

This is just an example. So many times, I find people doing things just for the heck of doing it,because they have to give it in, they have to meet deadlines , they have to impress their heads, they have to prove to the world that they're doing a decent job, because even they know that nobody cares enough to give it a second thought or delve into in deeper, so well, lets take the easy way out of this crisis !

Its just a mindset that I've become immune to seeing now and I HATE it ! There's nothing more than I hate than that ! I really don't care if I accomplish a little lesser than my peers but I need to make sure I'm worth whatever I have accomplished so far !!

How does it matter if the incharge thought the bricks were laid neatly one day, if ten years down the line the building is going to collapse anyway ? Wouldn't it be way better, if the development was slow but of some standard ?

The irony of the situation is , I too have many a times been a part of this sad scenario . This thought came into my mind as for the past few days I've been copy pasting numerous write ups one after the other, so that I can meet the submission deadlines and its not just me , its those numerous engineering students in Indian colleges, that complain about this futile system of journals and files that continues to shroud over their education . I don't even remember what I've written on those numerous pages , in a tizzy with music blaring in my ears, yet I have done them for the sake of it ! The good part is it really doesn't matter in this situation, because no one EVER reads them. They just form a pile in a corner of the laboratory and someone in the next batch, picks one up to help him in his forthcoming submission !

What I don't like here, no one in the authority is even protesting that its a royal waste of time and neither is anyone making it more meaningful. Everyone's just doing their duty for the HECK of it !

How can we ever expect to achieve something if we just don't care enough for it ! I wish people made an effort to at least reason why they're doing something. I wish people made an effort to learn and not complete....

A lil thought ...

Its a paradox that i see,
first it was pangea,
then so many continents broken down into 7 from 3,
a small living bacteria too,
lead to the formation of many races from just two,
then nature's language man began to read,
he separated himself from the rest of the creed,
he said ur green, ur blue and im yellow,
oh how strange it would be to mix and match with the other fellow,
i'll hang around in my end of the spectrum,
and the other colours soon chanted the same anthem,
soon, formed the rainbow a coloured band
and each colour was happy in his own petty land,
they accepted that this was the right way to live,
don't mix or mingle wid the rest in an attempt to take or give,
we'll blossom into a mighty clan of our own,
the seeds of this separation, long before nature had sown,
but they didn't see wid their ignorance a colour that was lost ,
the colour of snow , which heard their chatter as it lay still on the frost ,
i wish you would learn to disobey sometime said he,
i stand peaceful despite having a little of all of you in me ,
oh i know that you've seen things only separate out this far ,
but give this a thought despite it sounding so bizarre ,
i know its not easy to co-exist when you've been apart this long ,
although u cud atleast make a feeble attempt to get along ,
don't shut ur eyes so tight that u can't see how beautiful green is dear blue,
its shade is slightly different but it shines just as radiantly as you do !
there's a slight tendency to stick to the same kind,
but don't shut ur eyes to others , making ur insight so blind ,
we don't need to have one colour that is omnipresent ,
its this contrast thats makes life worth living, of things being so different,
i wish dear colours you would make this an asset not a liabilty,
for once don't concede to segregate and thrive in this variety...

P.S : i normally refrain from using sms lingo wen i write ...ill make this post an exception..m in a bit of a hurry