I am terribly busy. I want to blog, there are a lot of ideas running around my head but unfortunately I cannot find the time. I have also shifted to a new place, so that too is a new set of problems which I shall elaborate some other time.
Since I cannot write anything new at present, I just thought of dusting off my shelf and link some of my old articles which time has forgotten. Hardly anybody parses through a whole blog (with the kind of hectic life that we have made for ourselves!)
I have linked some blogposts of mine which I think are interesting. Although it is not necessary that you feel so.
Just sit back and enjoy a ride through time.
Intolerance
A visit to the marketplace after a long time
Long walk to freedom
The Smell of Phenyl
Another day in the train
The official guide on cracking the kbc
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Bread
New Delhi Railway Station, 6:15 am.
A Sunday ruined. Instead of sleeping late and give my body a well deserved break, I found myself outside the railway station on a cold winter morning. The temperature outside was 6 degrees Celsius.
Coming from Gurgaon did not help either. I had a hard time reaching the station as I had to juggle between two buses, a rickshaw and a cycle rickshaw as well.
In between all these disappointing scenarios, I somehow managed to reach New Delhi station an hour ahead of time. It was a relief as I had managed to stick to my schedule and make it well in time. But with that came the agonizing prospect of facing the cold for one full hour. I had prepared reasonably well though as not an inch of my skin showed anywhere. Monkey caps, gloves, shoes and every other sundry winter item were on me at that moment.
Due to increased security measures no one was allowed inside the station premises. Not that it would have helped in any way but it still would have given a meagre protection against the bitter cold outside.
I decided that the best thing I could do was to have a nice and warm cup of tea in a small tea-shop just outside the railway station and so I started walking in that direction.
Nice store for a small shop. Apart from tea, there were sandwiches, burgers, chips etc too. Pretty crammed up that place, but good to see on a cold winter morning. I took tea and sandwiches and started munching of them merrily, trying to shake away the cold that was slowly engulfing me from all sides in that open space.
As I was busy alternating between gnawing my teeth vigorously and sipping my tea, along came a man. He was wearing a cotton shirt, a tattered turban, a tattered blanket over his shirt and ‘dhoti’ which fell till his knees. He was wearing sandals but no socks.
Just seeing him made me feel cold from my innards. How could such a man be oblivious to the cold surrounding him? But I probably realized he must be a ‘mazdoor’ (labourer) from the nearby construction site.
All I could see was that he had a five rupee note clutched in his fist. Nothing else.
He came near the shop and surveyed it, corner to corner. His eyes going from the chips, the still ceiling fan to the boiling kettle. His surveying stopped when his eyes landed on a loaf of bread.
‘Chai kitne ki?’ (How much for the tea?)
‘Do rupaiye’(Two rupees)
‘Aur ye paav?’ (And this piece of bread?)
‘Pandrah rupaiye, ise mat dekho, tumhare bus ki baat nahi hai’ (Fifteen rupees, don’t look at it, you will not be able to afford this)
Till that time his arm was in motion upwards; the arm in which he had clutched his five rupee note, in order to give the shopkeeper the exact change. A single load of bread (paav) costs three rupees around these parts, and the tea was for two rupees. But his arm's upward motion stopped on hearing the ‘paav’ was for fifteen rupees. His mouth fell open, amazed as to how could he be charging this loaf of bread for fifteen rupees? His hand slowly came back to its original position and once again clutched the five rupee note.
I could see in his eyes that he was shocked and was in total disbelief. His only hope of morning tea along with a single loaf of bread earned with honest labour was also taken away by this greedy shopkeeper. He was probably thinking that the shopkeeper had not thought even twice to cheat an ordinary ‘mazdoor’ like him.
He was so completely broken that he did not even ask his question again. He just stood there, with an angry look in his eyes, the eyes in which now there was no hope. The whole idea of surviving this daily grind, especially in this cold winter, was just a laughable joke to him now. With those angry, but empty eyes, he just turned, looked back once at the ‘paav’ and then started walking the way in which he had come.
I noticed that the ‘mazdoor’ had started shivering while he was walking back. Maybe it wss the cold which was breaking his indomitable will slowly but surely. The five rupee note was still clutched in his hand, probably hoping that this meagre amount would be appreciated elsewhere.
What had happened was that the labourer had mistakenly taken the burger for a ‘paav’. But he could not see the filling inside the two loaves of bread from the position in which he had stood. All he could see and understand that it was an ordinary ‘paav’ and the shopkeeper had cheated him out of that too. He had come fighting the cold, he had come fighting against all odds of surviving each day, and he had probably fought even for saving this five rupee note. But now that he was ‘out of the game’ he did not have the will even to ask twice.
The shopkeeper also did not bother to explain thinking that he was an illiterate man and would not even have heard the word ‘burger’.
The mazdoor never came back again to the store till the time I was present.
Such are the circumstances of the ordinary man in his/her daily life. Some people have lost even their basic need, and that's hope.
The hot tea no longer could warm my body because my soul had turned ice cold.
I left the tea and sandwich there unfinished. It was time up by the way and I left for the station.
It was time up not only for me but for a lot of people nearby.
A Sunday ruined. Instead of sleeping late and give my body a well deserved break, I found myself outside the railway station on a cold winter morning. The temperature outside was 6 degrees Celsius.
Coming from Gurgaon did not help either. I had a hard time reaching the station as I had to juggle between two buses, a rickshaw and a cycle rickshaw as well.
In between all these disappointing scenarios, I somehow managed to reach New Delhi station an hour ahead of time. It was a relief as I had managed to stick to my schedule and make it well in time. But with that came the agonizing prospect of facing the cold for one full hour. I had prepared reasonably well though as not an inch of my skin showed anywhere. Monkey caps, gloves, shoes and every other sundry winter item were on me at that moment.
Due to increased security measures no one was allowed inside the station premises. Not that it would have helped in any way but it still would have given a meagre protection against the bitter cold outside.
I decided that the best thing I could do was to have a nice and warm cup of tea in a small tea-shop just outside the railway station and so I started walking in that direction.
Nice store for a small shop. Apart from tea, there were sandwiches, burgers, chips etc too. Pretty crammed up that place, but good to see on a cold winter morning. I took tea and sandwiches and started munching of them merrily, trying to shake away the cold that was slowly engulfing me from all sides in that open space.
As I was busy alternating between gnawing my teeth vigorously and sipping my tea, along came a man. He was wearing a cotton shirt, a tattered turban, a tattered blanket over his shirt and ‘dhoti’ which fell till his knees. He was wearing sandals but no socks.
Just seeing him made me feel cold from my innards. How could such a man be oblivious to the cold surrounding him? But I probably realized he must be a ‘mazdoor’ (labourer) from the nearby construction site.
All I could see was that he had a five rupee note clutched in his fist. Nothing else.
He came near the shop and surveyed it, corner to corner. His eyes going from the chips, the still ceiling fan to the boiling kettle. His surveying stopped when his eyes landed on a loaf of bread.
‘Chai kitne ki?’ (How much for the tea?)
‘Do rupaiye’(Two rupees)
‘Aur ye paav?’ (And this piece of bread?)
‘Pandrah rupaiye, ise mat dekho, tumhare bus ki baat nahi hai’ (Fifteen rupees, don’t look at it, you will not be able to afford this)
Till that time his arm was in motion upwards; the arm in which he had clutched his five rupee note, in order to give the shopkeeper the exact change. A single load of bread (paav) costs three rupees around these parts, and the tea was for two rupees. But his arm's upward motion stopped on hearing the ‘paav’ was for fifteen rupees. His mouth fell open, amazed as to how could he be charging this loaf of bread for fifteen rupees? His hand slowly came back to its original position and once again clutched the five rupee note.
I could see in his eyes that he was shocked and was in total disbelief. His only hope of morning tea along with a single loaf of bread earned with honest labour was also taken away by this greedy shopkeeper. He was probably thinking that the shopkeeper had not thought even twice to cheat an ordinary ‘mazdoor’ like him.
He was so completely broken that he did not even ask his question again. He just stood there, with an angry look in his eyes, the eyes in which now there was no hope. The whole idea of surviving this daily grind, especially in this cold winter, was just a laughable joke to him now. With those angry, but empty eyes, he just turned, looked back once at the ‘paav’ and then started walking the way in which he had come.
I noticed that the ‘mazdoor’ had started shivering while he was walking back. Maybe it wss the cold which was breaking his indomitable will slowly but surely. The five rupee note was still clutched in his hand, probably hoping that this meagre amount would be appreciated elsewhere.
What had happened was that the labourer had mistakenly taken the burger for a ‘paav’. But he could not see the filling inside the two loaves of bread from the position in which he had stood. All he could see and understand that it was an ordinary ‘paav’ and the shopkeeper had cheated him out of that too. He had come fighting the cold, he had come fighting against all odds of surviving each day, and he had probably fought even for saving this five rupee note. But now that he was ‘out of the game’ he did not have the will even to ask twice.
The shopkeeper also did not bother to explain thinking that he was an illiterate man and would not even have heard the word ‘burger’.
The mazdoor never came back again to the store till the time I was present.
Such are the circumstances of the ordinary man in his/her daily life. Some people have lost even their basic need, and that's hope.
The hot tea no longer could warm my body because my soul had turned ice cold.
I left the tea and sandwich there unfinished. It was time up by the way and I left for the station.
It was time up not only for me but for a lot of people nearby.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Evolution
After a long time I had an opportunity to parse through all my previous posts. Right from the first blog to the latest one, I read it all. Not only did I read all my previous posts word for word but I read all the comments that were interspersed in between.
It was a refreshing experience as well as an exercise on introspection. It literally was a step by step diary of the evolution of my mind through these three years (almost three!). The first thing that I had to analyze was that how far a changed man was I through this whole period? Was I an idiot before and grown to be a wise man? Or was I a wise man earlier and grown into an idiot?
Other questions followed too. Now that I was reading my own posts, I at times felt as to why would I write such a thing? But this answer was clear enough. I could recall each of the motivations/momentous bursts of creativity that made me write those posts. If you would have read all my posts you would realize that my posts meander from observation to critical thinking. But yes, I could recollect the reasons for writing each one of my blogposts.
I could also see that previously there was a rash character into my posts. Youthful exuberance or youthful immaturity is for you to decide. But yes there is a sense of finality to my opinions that I have expressed in some of the matters which I now think I rather should not have done. As with the planet, animals and alike, our mind evolves too. People change as they grow. So opinions are bound to differ from one point in time to another.
I feel that I have mellowed down in my writing. Not in terms of content but in terms of tone and style. I do believe that it is a result of the conscious decision to edit and re-edit my blogs for grammatical errors, complex sentences and the pursuit of simplicity with minimum usage of complex words. I don’t claim my posts to be error free, but yes I do feel that the magnitude has gone down.
Experiences have made my blog the way it is today. I do like to ponder about little things which are mostly inconsequential. But our lovely mind likes to wander and thus the relations and analogies in my blogs. Most of you have enjoyed it, but in the same breath I admit some of you did not.
I remain a voracious reader as always.
Lately I have also ventured into short story writing on another blog of mine, the link for which you will find at the bottom of the page.
On introspection it has been a good journey so far. Thanks to all the people who have commented on my blogs. You all are a very integral part in what I feel I have accomplished so far. Your comments and brickbats, as always, are most solicited.
Just before I end this here I recollect one sentence from the book ‘Alchemy of Desire’ by Tarun Tejpal. The main protagonist is a writer himself. He says that the best of writers don’t put their creative words immediately on realization of an idea but over a period of time in a soft , leaky sort of way. They make fewer errors that way and are clear in the thought process while writing. This advice has stayed with me since. It works.
It was a refreshing experience as well as an exercise on introspection. It literally was a step by step diary of the evolution of my mind through these three years (almost three!). The first thing that I had to analyze was that how far a changed man was I through this whole period? Was I an idiot before and grown to be a wise man? Or was I a wise man earlier and grown into an idiot?
Other questions followed too. Now that I was reading my own posts, I at times felt as to why would I write such a thing? But this answer was clear enough. I could recall each of the motivations/momentous bursts of creativity that made me write those posts. If you would have read all my posts you would realize that my posts meander from observation to critical thinking. But yes, I could recollect the reasons for writing each one of my blogposts.
I could also see that previously there was a rash character into my posts. Youthful exuberance or youthful immaturity is for you to decide. But yes there is a sense of finality to my opinions that I have expressed in some of the matters which I now think I rather should not have done. As with the planet, animals and alike, our mind evolves too. People change as they grow. So opinions are bound to differ from one point in time to another.
I feel that I have mellowed down in my writing. Not in terms of content but in terms of tone and style. I do believe that it is a result of the conscious decision to edit and re-edit my blogs for grammatical errors, complex sentences and the pursuit of simplicity with minimum usage of complex words. I don’t claim my posts to be error free, but yes I do feel that the magnitude has gone down.
Experiences have made my blog the way it is today. I do like to ponder about little things which are mostly inconsequential. But our lovely mind likes to wander and thus the relations and analogies in my blogs. Most of you have enjoyed it, but in the same breath I admit some of you did not.
I remain a voracious reader as always.
Lately I have also ventured into short story writing on another blog of mine, the link for which you will find at the bottom of the page.
On introspection it has been a good journey so far. Thanks to all the people who have commented on my blogs. You all are a very integral part in what I feel I have accomplished so far. Your comments and brickbats, as always, are most solicited.
Just before I end this here I recollect one sentence from the book ‘Alchemy of Desire’ by Tarun Tejpal. The main protagonist is a writer himself. He says that the best of writers don’t put their creative words immediately on realization of an idea but over a period of time in a soft , leaky sort of way. They make fewer errors that way and are clear in the thought process while writing. This advice has stayed with me since. It works.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Just Wondering
Place. My room.
My roommate had the remote. He was flipping through the channels, while I was listening to music on my lappie. And it was going like this for quite some time.
Call it timing, or pure luck but my friend had stopped at a music channel and at the same moment the song ended and stopped playing on my lappie.
At that moment we both were listening to that one song on TV. Nothing else made a sound. Nothing even moved. Except for the song playing and the ceiling fan rotating everything else was silent. It made for a surreal setting.
That moment seemed as if stuck in twilight.
That moment went away as swiftly as it had come. My roommates fingers twitched on the remote again, the T.V humbly followed and changed the channel.
The situation was like this, we both were given a choice at that instant. We both gave a precious 30 seconds of our mortal life listening to the song. He chose not to listen to it, while I chose that I wanted to listen. But he had the remote and he changed the channel, leaving me with the thoughts as to whether I would be able to hear this song again. I could not catch the name of the song, nor the band, nor the lyrics, nor any clue. All I could catch was a lovely tune which was now lost in time.
I began to wonder, how many times in our lives do we have to face a similar situation. Just as my roommate had the control over the infinitesimally small moment, similarly at times other forces too control our lives and destiny for a certain amount of time. But it makes a lot of difference and at times it leaves a lasting impression.
Just as I had compromised on my choice, I wonder how many people had to compromise because of one or many unwanted compulsions in their lives. How many people did not take up a nice lucrative job because their wives were pregnant? How many people would have just picked up a piece of expensive jewellery and put it back again just because they could not afford it? How many people could not marry somebody whom they loved just because they did not say it?
How many, just how many were forced to do something they otherwise would not have done? Just because at that moment the remote control of their lives were not with them but with somebody else? How cruel and helpless it feels knowing that for that particular moment you are not in control of your own destiny?
And in some situations you are no longer in control for the rest of your life.
Just wondering.....
Life goes on as it usually does.
My roommate had the remote. He was flipping through the channels, while I was listening to music on my lappie. And it was going like this for quite some time.
Call it timing, or pure luck but my friend had stopped at a music channel and at the same moment the song ended and stopped playing on my lappie.
At that moment we both were listening to that one song on TV. Nothing else made a sound. Nothing even moved. Except for the song playing and the ceiling fan rotating everything else was silent. It made for a surreal setting.
That moment seemed as if stuck in twilight.
That moment went away as swiftly as it had come. My roommates fingers twitched on the remote again, the T.V humbly followed and changed the channel.
The situation was like this, we both were given a choice at that instant. We both gave a precious 30 seconds of our mortal life listening to the song. He chose not to listen to it, while I chose that I wanted to listen. But he had the remote and he changed the channel, leaving me with the thoughts as to whether I would be able to hear this song again. I could not catch the name of the song, nor the band, nor the lyrics, nor any clue. All I could catch was a lovely tune which was now lost in time.
I began to wonder, how many times in our lives do we have to face a similar situation. Just as my roommate had the control over the infinitesimally small moment, similarly at times other forces too control our lives and destiny for a certain amount of time. But it makes a lot of difference and at times it leaves a lasting impression.
Just as I had compromised on my choice, I wonder how many people had to compromise because of one or many unwanted compulsions in their lives. How many people did not take up a nice lucrative job because their wives were pregnant? How many people would have just picked up a piece of expensive jewellery and put it back again just because they could not afford it? How many people could not marry somebody whom they loved just because they did not say it?
How many, just how many were forced to do something they otherwise would not have done? Just because at that moment the remote control of their lives were not with them but with somebody else? How cruel and helpless it feels knowing that for that particular moment you are not in control of your own destiny?
And in some situations you are no longer in control for the rest of your life.
Just wondering.....
Life goes on as it usually does.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Joyride
Nobody knows him. He is your regular guy at office. Always arrives on time, and leaves on time. He is always found with the same old formals, the same old shoes, the same haircut, and the spectacled frame that hasn’t changed since eternity.
He makes himself comfortable in the office bus, without making a least difference to anybody already present. The pretty girl, with whom he shared the seat did not even look up and took notice. It did not make any difference to him, his face did not twitch. After all it was an everyday occurrence.
As the bus starts moving, he notices himself in the rearview mirror. Although he was just a few years out of college, he already appeared to have a thinning brow line. His hair was flowing with the breeze. The driver had switched on his FM radio. The bus with its slow whirring noise of the engine and rhythmic vibrations soon put our man to sleep.
In his dreams, he is again transported back to the time while he was studying. He found himself giving a speech during student elections. By the time he ended the crowd acknowledged his presence with a thunderous applause.
Although unknown to him at that time, the same song which was on the FM radio at that time was being played in the club (in his dreams) which he used to frequently visit while he had a active social life. With his friends, all were watching him dance and soon a crowd had gathered around him watching his every move. He was in high spirits, it was due to him that everybody was having fun; it was due to him that he was making their evening memorable.
The pretty girl in the bus came in his dreams and was highly impressed. He got the first kiss of his life her. With smiles on each others faces, he felt especially proud.
Suddenly the pretty girl started to say ‘hello’ with a broad smile. Confused he too said hello, wondering why the hello came after the kiss. After what seemed like a full second, she said ‘Excuse me’ with that same 1000 watt smile and with a slight poke on the shoulder.
Slowly the 1000 watt smile faded and she started howling uttering ‘Hello’ and ‘Excuse me’. He tried his best to understand the girl’s behavior but to no avail.
At the last instant she gave him a tight rap on the shoulder. This time making our man wake up. ‘Excuse me, this is the last stop and I am getting late’ said the pretty girl. Our man momentarily blurred, brought himself back to consciousness and reality. He smiled and said ‘Sorry, I dozed off’.
The girl while getting down turned back and looked back at him and gave him that 1000 watt smile, this time for real, and walked away.
‘Best thing that has happened today’, he muttered to himself, as he made his way into the platform to complete his harrowing journey back home. Again returning to his old avatar of the unknown man.
Life’s little happy packages come in little dreams, on a little joyride.
Life goes on in the city as usual……
He makes himself comfortable in the office bus, without making a least difference to anybody already present. The pretty girl, with whom he shared the seat did not even look up and took notice. It did not make any difference to him, his face did not twitch. After all it was an everyday occurrence.
As the bus starts moving, he notices himself in the rearview mirror. Although he was just a few years out of college, he already appeared to have a thinning brow line. His hair was flowing with the breeze. The driver had switched on his FM radio. The bus with its slow whirring noise of the engine and rhythmic vibrations soon put our man to sleep.
In his dreams, he is again transported back to the time while he was studying. He found himself giving a speech during student elections. By the time he ended the crowd acknowledged his presence with a thunderous applause.
Although unknown to him at that time, the same song which was on the FM radio at that time was being played in the club (in his dreams) which he used to frequently visit while he had a active social life. With his friends, all were watching him dance and soon a crowd had gathered around him watching his every move. He was in high spirits, it was due to him that everybody was having fun; it was due to him that he was making their evening memorable.
The pretty girl in the bus came in his dreams and was highly impressed. He got the first kiss of his life her. With smiles on each others faces, he felt especially proud.
Suddenly the pretty girl started to say ‘hello’ with a broad smile. Confused he too said hello, wondering why the hello came after the kiss. After what seemed like a full second, she said ‘Excuse me’ with that same 1000 watt smile and with a slight poke on the shoulder.
Slowly the 1000 watt smile faded and she started howling uttering ‘Hello’ and ‘Excuse me’. He tried his best to understand the girl’s behavior but to no avail.
At the last instant she gave him a tight rap on the shoulder. This time making our man wake up. ‘Excuse me, this is the last stop and I am getting late’ said the pretty girl. Our man momentarily blurred, brought himself back to consciousness and reality. He smiled and said ‘Sorry, I dozed off’.
The girl while getting down turned back and looked back at him and gave him that 1000 watt smile, this time for real, and walked away.
‘Best thing that has happened today’, he muttered to himself, as he made his way into the platform to complete his harrowing journey back home. Again returning to his old avatar of the unknown man.
Life’s little happy packages come in little dreams, on a little joyride.
Life goes on in the city as usual……
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