The Manic Rikshawvaala – I

In Mumbai , autorikshaws are a very familiar figure. They occupy pretty much each and every open space in a traffic jam competing with the likes of audi’s , bmws and marutis and normally beating them in the race.  Daily commute to office is normally peppered with encounters with rikshawvaala’s normally centering about their refusal for low distance travels or wrong fares and tampered meters.
It was 5 am in the morning; I had to go to airport. The road was pretty much empty. It was drizzling slightly but since my destination was not having any rain forecast, the adventurer inside me didn’t believe in taking any umbrella. So I was standing under a tree hoping for the rickshaw fellow to come before the drizzle becomes a downpour . First two rickshaws went by without any response to my Hos... The next one comes and asks me where I want to go. I replied “Domestic airport” . He asks me to hop in. After going for about 1 minute or so , I realize that he has not started his fare meter. Thinking that he forgot about it , I request him to start the fare-meter. The rikshaw fellow didn’t bother to reply. The roads are all empty , the drizzle has become a downpour now. I once again requested him to start the fare-meter to which he replies “Boss , the fare meter will not be turned on” . As I stared with concern at the autorikshaw fellow’s tone and the surrounding empty road. I tightened my grip on my cell , planning to make a emergency call just in case. I asked with a bit stern tone, why he won’t be turning the fare-meter? Is he expecting some fixed fare? If that is the case he should have negotiated it before making me sit and blah blah blah blah. Listening to my blah blahs , he responded with another punch. He said that he won’t be taking any fare from me. I thought this will be very ironic the way my trip will end even before it begins , being murdered by a manic serial killer driving a rickshaw on the empty streets of the Mumbai. A fitting end to a very violent life.
As I was preparing myself for the eventuality, I observed that he had turned the rikshaw towards a group of rikshaws which were standing on the intersection. As the rikshaw slowed , he ho hoed the group and asked whether anybody was interested in a fare to domestic airport. As one fellow came forward , I asked the rikshaw fellow why he himself was not coming to the airport. He replied back that, he has to carry kids to school and since I was standing all alone in rains, he thought of taking me to the closest rickshaw stand on his way to the kids. As I thanked and said my farewell to him, the song that came to my mind was Des Mera Rangrez

Of Somerset Maugham and Me

I was introduced to Somerset Maugham by one of my friends B who had passed on the book “On Razor’s Edge” to me in 2002. It was at a time where my brain was absorbing each and every trash and as I read the first few chapters which most of the time talked about the love interests, settling down plans, picnics and such fun of a girl and her fiancé I thot whether B has finally gone bonkers to give me such a stupid book? But then there was something in that book, the way it was written which stopped me from putting down that book and then came the Somerset twist when the guy refused to accept the high paying job giving high funda excuses and then came the twist of girl refusing to marry the fellow since he is not accepting the high paying job and as the novel moved from one such twist to another, I was left wondering at the deviousness of the writer. And the evil simplicity in which he had bought the novel to a *Happy Ending* left me numb. That novel did force me to take a look at the way things were going on in my life.

My second encounter with Maugham was when I got hold of the book Of Human Bondage in the public library. It was a story of a guy who had a club foot. Story of his growing up, facing discrimination and the way he reacted to that discrimination most of the time in not so admirable or noble way. How hard he tries to win over the affection of a waitress and how each time she comes to him for support and ditches him when she recovers. It was rare for me to get hold of a book which had a very *human* central character who in a very selfish way lived for himself, went around doing all acts in a very *human* way, showing human emotions of being hurt and then reacting to his emotions in a very human way with no penchant for showing greatness or acting in a noble way. Reading that book at itz own pace was a very memorable experience for me. I went again and again through the book and completely exhausted myself. 

And now I was completely smitten by Mr Maugham and his books , his way of writing and his thinking process and had Maugham festival at the nearby public library .
The next encounter with Maugham which became ingrained in my memory was because it came after my friendly banter with the rental office lady. She had just joined the apartment complex where we used to stay and seemed to be very much curious about the Indians and the Indian culture. Seeing her curiosity, I was expecting a question from her about the arranged marriage system in India and the question came when I had gone to pay the monthly rent with 2 of my friends … As we explained to her, the intricacies of the arranged marriage and how the match making is done ,  and how the divorce rates in India is the lowest , I myself was not much convinced. It was at this time while reading the story Moon and Six Pence. The story line is something like , as always there is a happy family where the husband is ultra-rich and wife is ultra-devoted to him until a friend comes by. The wife abandons the rich fellow and goes away with the poor friend of her husband.

While describing this, I came across the below lines -
“I do not suppose she had ever really cared for her husband, and what I had taken for love was no more than the feminine response to caresses and comfort which in the minds of most women passes for it. It is a passive feeling capable of being roused for any object, as the vine can grow on any tree; and the wisdom of the world recognizes its strength when it urges a girl to marry the man who wants her with the assurance that love will follow. It is an emotion made up of the satisfaction in security, pride of property, the pleasure of being desired, the gratification of a household, and it is only by an amiable vanity that women ascribe to it spiritual value. It is an emotion which is defenseless against passion”

I rewound my memory several times to see whether this aspect is the reason why the Indian arranged marriages end up in and they happily lived ever after
Over the years , There have been several encounters between me and Maugham which helped me further crystallize myself and sometimes justify the way I reacted to several situations. Over these encounters I got hold of below –
 

Beauty you seldom see face to face. Look at it well, for what you see now you will never see again , since the moment is transitory, but it will be an imperishable memory in your heart. You touch eternity
Edward Barnard in "Fall of Edward Barnard"
 

The more he learns , the more he wants and the more unhappy he becomes.
The Razor's Edge

If to look truth in the face and not resent it when it’s unpalatable, and take human nature as you find it, smiling when it’s absurd and grieved without exaggeration when it’s pitiful, is to be cynical then I suppose I am a cynic. Mostly human nature is both absurd and pitiful, but if life has taught you tolerance you find it more to smile at than to weep.
The Back of Beyond

It would be very easy if you could do a beastly thing and then say you are sorry afterwards and that put it all right again. One could do a dastardly thing if one chose, but it is contemptible to regret it afterwards
On Human Bondage

I do not confer praise or blame. I accept. I am the measure of all things. I am the centre of the world.
On Human Bondage

 My most emphatic encounter with Maugham was inside a Jiffy Lube , on a cold wintry morning when I read
One mustn’t expect gratitude. It’s a thing that no has right to. After all, you do good because it gives you pleasure. It’s the purest form of happiness there is. To expect thanks for it is really asking too much. If you get it well , well , it’s like a bonus on the shares on which you have already received the dividend; it’s grand, but you mustn’t look upon as your due

I was shocked, had one of the most extreme moments of doubt. I pretty much questioned the way I had behaved throughout my life in a human way rather than the humane way. And then I decided , I will do good if I feel like doing good , otherwise I will continue being my good old impulsive self regardless what others perceive me.

The Bolivian Diaries ----

I have always enjoyed watching dreams. Especially since most of the time, I realize that I am in a dream and all my acts won’t result in anything which will cause any impact on anybody. Dreams have been an excellent medium for me to analyze myself, my acts and I normally let the dreams proceed at its own pace.

During my last Kerala vacations, I was taken with me two Che Guevera books , one was Motorcycle Diaries which he had written before becoming that hardcore left ideologue and another was the Bolivian Diaries which is based on the diary maintained by CG during his last days in Bolivia, before he was hunted down by the Bolivian army and killed. In this diary , he maintained a daily log of the events , his interpretation of them , the mistakes he made while dealing with his group of fighters as well as other tit-bits. He also made a mention of the various difficulties like lack of food, injuries , flooding etc which the group faced while moving across the Bolivian landscape along with the frequent encounters with the Bolivian army. All in all it was a very moving book and probably I got immersed into it too much.

So one fine day, while I was sleeping with the book lying by my side, I became part of that group, sitting in a clearing inside the jungle with few guns, covered in dust and dressed in army fatigues. Realizing the situation, my first impulse was to check my leg. I got up and moved my right leg. It felt good. No creaking sound came from knee. No instability when I put my weight on it. I recalled the part from Mitch Albom’s–Five People you meet in Heaven where the prime character check out his injured leg when he goes to meet the first person in heaven. I looked around and realized there was nobody resembling Che . Instead the group consisted of all my acquaintances whom I had presumed as hardcore ideologues. I was a bit surprised since I knew not all were on the same side of the fence.  But felt good that all of us were fighting for something which was common. So I settled myself into the group which was having an animated discussion on some pointless issue. Some fellow was bringing in the food. From the novel , I knew that the group was in shortfall of the food so I was not surprised to see a liquidy fare as food.

As the group was consuming food, we heard sound of gunfire coming from somewhere closeby. One fellow came running and said ( in hindi) that army is coming and we have to plan something. I was expecting some plans for a fight but was shocked when somebody said a chopper will be landing some distance from where we are and if we hurry up we will reach it in time and avoid the soldiers and the army and save our lives. As I looked with shock at the fellow who made this suggestion, the rest of the group agreed. I looked at disgust at the group wondering how wrong I had been in coming for a fight with a group of people whose only priority became saving’s once life when faced with bullets and all professed ideologies and preachings went for naught . As the bad taste flooded my mouth, I found myself also urging the group to run towards the place where the chopper was supposed to land telling them how saving once life is more important.

Now this was just too much for me to bear, I got up with a start from the sleep. It was still dark. I sat on the bed contemplating, how it is futile to expect others to stand for their beliefs when I was also among the first ones to run when faced with bullets, was more worried about saving my life rather than sacrificing myself for the ideology in which I thought I believed.  As the thought of not being a great man who is ready to give up life for a cause pervaded my mind , I started looking for excuses to support my running away. I knew, all the justifications that I can think off can do nothing to redeem myself.

The Door to God II

We were done with our first phase of the North India trip. The things that were pending was for GC and Lady GC to go back to Mumbai while I head towards the Holy City of Haridwar ( Gateway to Lord Vishnu ) or Hardwar ( Gateway to Lord Shiva ).

So after finishing off Qutub Minar , we collected our luggage and headed towards the New Delhi station . The ultra hot Delhi clime was turning pleasant. A cool breeze has started blowing. After seeing off their Rajdhani , I was limping over the foot over bridge towards the exit and it started raining. I realized, this was the first monsoons showers of the year 2010 for Delhi and I merrily clicked a few pictures .. The rains were over in a jiffy and I negotiated a rickshaw to the Old Delhi station from where I was supposed to catch my train to Haridwar.

I reached the Old Delhi Station 4 hours before my train , checked out the stuffs and the surroundings and the environment and decided , I can go for some local tourism in nearby bylanes and gallis. I checked with some locals and they suggested the Lal Qilla and the Jama Masid in walking distance. Since I was already done with Lal Qilla , I narrowed down on Jama Masjid and started walking with my backpack asking people for directions. The roads were similar to other parts of India crowded with people, cows , rickshaws , 4 wheelers and punctuated by open manholes .  I would have walked for about 40 minutes or so absorbing the smells of Delhi Market when again the stupid cool breeze started blowing. I continued walking and was standing admiring the entrance of Jama Masjid. As I looked around, the wind picked up speed and the clouds started rolling over the horizon, the sky darkened and it started raining. I, in the right spirit of the adventure hurried to take pictures on my mobile cam and I realized that the rain’s transformation into downpour may affect other electronic items that I am carrying, rushed to the nearest enclosed area, rechecked all the zips , moved the electronic items into more secure pockets. With all these activities over, I checked the enclosed area where I was standing and realized it was a small eatery. The eatery owner was shouting at his aide to switch off the lights since he was afraid that somebody will get electrocuted. The downpour has now transformed itself to full-fledged storm. As the people grouped themselves closer to protect themselves from the rains, an auto went by. I was about to shout for it when the adventurer inside me shouted, why an auto is needed for a 40 minute walk and I let it go. The rain intensity increased and very soon the road in front of me was converted into an overflowing canal with water well above the knee. Our group was well tucked inside that snack’s shop. All the shops besides the roads were now full of passerby taking refuge from the rain.

After about 1 hour of tucking in business, I decided, enough was enough and started the walking business towards the railway station through footpath adjoining the shops. I would have crawled in for about 20 minutes when I reached a narrow lane from which water was coming out at a great speed. I realized that crossing the stream of gushing water will be very very risky with my leg. As I stood over there, I saw the water- speed though very fast near the entrance peter out by the time it reached the road. And so I took the main road itself. The water here was waist deep. I was the lone person staggering on the road with an aura like that of a gladiator walking back after winning the fight. After about 10 minutes of this staggering business on an empty water-logged street in the Old Delhi locality of the Indian Capital City of New Delhi, I remembered the open man-holes which I had seen on my walk towards Masjid close to 2 hour back. And most were present bang in the middle of the road. With this realization and the possibilities, I once again ran to the closest closed/crowded space where the chances of open man-holes and gutters will be miniscule.


I have been reading Paulo Coelho books for past 2-3 months. He had written about God giving minor indications/signals so that one can avoid problems/troubles. So I stood there waiting for rains to subside wondering whether this downpour is an indication for me to cancel my Haridwar trip and go back. As I recalled all the painful time I had spent in my bed not able to turn around because of my knee, I wonder what a slip in such flowing, twirling water will do. What If I am not able to get up or what If I get sucked into the open man-hole which I avoided 10 minutes back. What if the rain intensity does not decreases and this becomes July 26th of Delhi . With these thoughts making a whirlpool in my mind, I took the decision based on the old hindi proverb “ Jaan hai to jahaan hai” which pretty much means that one can enjoy the world and all its beauty only if one Is alive. And with this germ in back of my mind, I decided that my first priority will be to reach high /safe ground, probably the railway station. Depending on my arrival time in station and my condition, I will decide my future course of action.

With the decision made, the rains also started relenting. So I once again started the walking business and this time I was walking with a huge mass of humanity, making their way to various transit points, basically the metro stations. As I was crossing the road to the other side, one fellow shouted at me not to go too close to the electric pole .. It seems something had gone wrong with that pole people were getting electric shock in its vicinity. I changed my direction and once again followed the crowd. The rains had pretty much receded. The panic and the general confusion in the street had settled down into a comfortable chatter of sea of Indians out to have some fun on a rainy day. I got the directions to the Old Delhi station from a gentleman. Finally I reached the railway station which again was a sea of humanity. There was close to 30 minutes for the scheduled departure of my train. I collected some money from the ATM, walked over to the platform where the guard informed me that the train was late by 1 hour or so.

That 1 hour delay turned out to be 4 hour delay. I took the opportunity to clean myself in a soily public restroom made muddy by the flood by standing on a newspaper. My appetite for adventure had vanished, so was the appetite for dinner. I bought a couple of biscuit packets and went to the platform, occupied a box and started my biscuit dinner and the waiting business. Finally the train came at 2:00 am.I checked all my electronic items, somehow dozed off .

Next morning, I got down at Haridwar, I bought the morning newspaper . The headlines read - “Flashfloods in Delhi ,  5 dead of electrocution, wall-collapse” . As I stared and realized the possibilities, I wondered whether the decisions you take have any role in deciding the God’s will for you?

Kissa ooooops kaa

 Proffi has been a very dear friend of mine. had known him from past 8 years .... Met him somewhere after the 12th standard results and then same college , same company , same city kept us in contact.. he is a sort of person on whom one can rely on in all matters. He was( ?? ) a fellow who believed in greeting his friends in the traditional indian way by giving a giant HUG ...
Indians have a very different outloook and i would say a wierd outlook bout the american thinking and way of life ( Well this is my viewpoint .. if u don't agree I don't care , u can as well go to hell and even then I will not care , u can shout for me from there even then i will not care ).And i belive people responsible for this thinking are those desi people who have been over here for quite some time and think of themselves  as expert on the American Way of Life ( again this is my viewpoint if u don't agree I don't care , u can as well go to hell and even then I will not care , u can shout for me from there even then i will not care) .And one of the most abused viewpoint is "americans feel that too much physical contact between males in open shows their homosexual preferences.." And our dear proffi also came under such bad influences.
So when I met proffi for first time in America I was surprised to see proffi saying ooops all the time
any of us touched him in a casual way .... And so our entire Ewing-->Jersey City --> Philedelphia trip was full of so many ooops that even a experienced OOPs programmer would have committed suicide .

When this crescendo of oops had crossed all tolerance limits I knew I had to act..  I don't know from where I got the inspiration .. most probably it was Nandu's presence .. I said "India me the to kandhe pe haath rakh kar chalte the , aur sala aaj ek choti si ungli kya lag gayi …….seedhe oops."
I think my wise quote had the desired effect on proffi. Next day when we were going through the our traditional farewell rituals ,in full public view proffi gave me one of his old desi hugs and this time I said "OOOOOPPPS !!!!"

ps: This was first published in yahoo blogs on Jan 1 2006.

Books Completed- Jan 3rd 2012

Motorcycle Diaries -- Che Guuvera -- Ok book
Bolivian Dairies -- Che Guuvera -- Good book
Revolution 2020 -- Chetan Bhagat -- Pathetic book
Aleph - Paulo Coelho -- Ok/Good Book

Expecto Patronum

Some days back, one of my good friends had put up a facebook status saying that most of people surrounding him are very selfish and self-centred so he is kinda pissed off by the way these dark-vile creatures pull him down and ruin his mood. Due to some inexplicable reasons, I was in the Hogwarts Mood at that time and the mention of dark-vile creatures brought forward the memory of Dementors  who are also dark-vile creatures making use of a person’s emotional vulnerability to suck out his soul and the way to repel  them is to use the Expecto Patronum charm which requires the person to recall the innermost positive thoughts/ memories to create a defensive shield.
So whenever bad people surround you think about the good people in your life. If bad circumstances pull you down, think about all the good things in life. Let whatever good happened in your life become an expect patronum  to pull you out of the rut created by the bad things.