என் வலைபக்கமும் நானும் (My Blog and Me)

வெகு நாட்களாக இந்த பக்கமே வராத என்னை பார்த்து என் வலை பக்கம் கோவித்து கொள்வதாவது:

கவிபாடி என்னை போற்றும்படியோ கேட்டேன் - அல்ல

புவியே எனைக்கண்டு வியக்கவோ விழைந்தேன் - இந்த

அவைதனிலே என்னகென இடமொன்று கேட்டேன் - அதையும்

பாவி நீ கொடுக்க மறுத்தாய்

காலையில் அலுவலுக்கு பணிந்தாய் நிசியில் ஒரு

காலை உறக்கத்தில் கழித்தாய் ஒரு நாழிகை

காலும் எனைநினைக்க மறுத்தாய் இன்றோ உன்

காலை பார்த்தபடி என்முன் நிற்கிறாய்

படைத்தலைவன் ஒருவன் துயில் கொண்டாற்போல் - எனக்கு

தடைபோட்டு என்னை மறந்த சிறியோனே - ஆலவாய்

சடையோனுக்கு பன்மணி பூஷணங்கள் அழகோ - இந்த

மடையனுக்கு வலைபக்கமொன்று தான் கேடோ?

My blog is cross with me. Here it dedicates these verses in my praise!

Little did I demand poetic verses

Little did I demand the world's attention

A steady update is all I ask

You don't meet even this basic expectation!

Work keeps you busy in mornings

The latter part of the day is gone in sleeping

When did you even think of me? When I ask this

today you bow down your head in shame!

Like a warrior who takes a nap (in war)

You took a sabbatical forgetting me

What use is jewellery to the (Ascetic) Lord Siva

What use is a blog to a git like you!

Little talks and bus friendships

It was one of those few days when you have the right to call yourself lucky because you don’t always get a seat in a Chennai city bus during the peak hours! There was a slightly elderly looking person sitting next to me. As the bus pulled out of T.Nagar bus stand and turned left after the CIT Nagar bus stop, this co-passenger turned to me and started a conversation.

“Where does this road lead to?” he asked me, pointing to the CIT Nagar First Main road that joins Mount road at the Hyundai showroom.

“To mount road..” I didn’t want to suffix “uncle”. He looked too old for that!

“No, Not the one we are going in now.. That road..” he said again pointing to CIT Nagar first Main road.

“Oh yes.. It is that road that goes to mount road too! But it is a “one way traffic” there. Vehicles can only enter from Mount road.”

“Oh.. okay..” (Some random “useless government” sort of remarks for “making half the roads one ways” follow)

Meanwhile a conversation had started in my mobile with one of my friends. I was typing text messages with my usual rigour. Through the corner of my eyes I was able to see, rather feel, my co-passenger (CP from now) trying to peep into my mobile. I typed faster and jabbed the “send” button and quickly turned to see my CP quickly avert his gaze from my mobile.

“You young people type messages so fast! Some do it with both hands. I never get the speed!”

I was slightly taken aback and gave a blank expression. I managed to say

“It is nothing. Just practice”

“No really, when I start typing……”I really did not pay attention to what he was saying till I heard the word “MS Excel”. That was curious!

“Pardon. What did you just say?” I wanted to ask “In what context did you just now say Excel?”

“ ‘Excel’ thambi. You haven’t heard about it? Do you know what it is?”

If I tell yes, there would be no fun. Imagining Prof. Seshasayee’s (who taught us statistics in Excel for four full months!) exasperated expression I said

“No.. What is it?”

“It is used to do accounts. I use it most of the times. In it if you type ‘Ak’ it completes the word as ‘Akash associates’ and you can do a lot of tally in that. I was telling that if such a feature is available in mobiles it would be great.”

I smiled. My mobile beeped with a reply to the text message I had just sent. I lifted my right leg and almost hid my mobile under the knees and gave a quick reply. CP was staring at my knees, which had graciously hidden my mobile from his prying eyes! He smiled and said,

“I really feel jealous when I see you guys typing messages so fast. I couldn’t have even read the message in the time you were done with the whole reading and replying”

Now what was that for? I gave a “younster –still-good boy” kind of a smile and turned to look out through the window. My mobile beeped again. This time the message I received demanded a detailed reply. I started texting the reply. My legs involuntarily dropped to the floor. When I was almost done, I heard,

“The font is too small. I can’t even read. I think I’ll need my glasses!”

With an unbelievable expression I turned to look at CP. He had not only tried to peep into a third person’s mobile, but was actually feeling bad that he was not able to read clearly. That and without the teeniest hint of guilt! I stopped smiling and had a grim face. We had almost reached guindy now. How fast time had gone today! CP was not done yet!

“Thambi. What do you do? Where do you work?” I hate it when people refer to me as thambi and this was the second time in 15 minutes.

“Optometrist at Sankara Nathralaya. Also, junior researcher there.”

“Oh that is nice. What is optometrist by the way. The ones who give glasses, right?”

“yes and those responsible for diagnosing eye disorders and treating a few of them”

“And what kind of research do you do”

“Visual psychophysics and cataract” and that would be the end;

I would need to pull in a lot of details if this conversation had taken place. I was in no mood for public relations. I had a simple alternative.

“I am a software engineer” I replied and imagined myself writing codes the way I would never write if I had been writing them for myself!

“Oh good. Which company? BPO or software company”

Oh my god! I was not prepared for this question. Wipro, TCS, CTS, Infosys, HCL, IBM.

“Private concern!” I blurted out. If he asks where it is I’ll tell it is in Pune and I am here to visit my aunt.

I never had to tell that. That is another Murphy’s Law – When you are prepared for something, the preparation always goes waste! My mobile beeped again. That was big, big sms that time. By the time the sender’s name came I forgot what the first line was. Meanwhile CP had started peeking and I was getting irked. What worse?!~ He started talking. Somewhere inside my brain, there were generous visual, auditory and consciousness inputs. The roads to the attention center got all berserk and it went in to a state of hibernation, completely giving up. I didn’t understand the message I was reading, couldn’t hear what CP was talking, couldn’t adjust my aching leg that was veiling my mobile from unwanted stares. With a final warning like expression, I turned to CP and asked him to excuse me for a minute. I was done with typing my reply message and CP started talking again! Like Mohammad Gazini! What stamina!

“You are a software professional! So how do you think the software profession is coming up in Singapore? Is it okay to stay there or come back?”

I gave him a look completely devoid of expression. I didn’t know if I had to laugh or cry. Wasn’t he seeing my disinterest or pretending to be immune?

“Well, if company is paying your bill anything is right! You know..” I knew I was starting it afresh; but this time I had a plan. “..It also depends on where you stay! It should be comfortable and safe.. Singapore is a nice place to be in..” My mobile rang with one of my friends’ name flashing on the screen. “Just a sec..” I told CP and turned towards the crowded part of the bus.

“Hi machi.. long since you called! Whatssup then?” I started talking, gratefully remembering the last text message I had sent

“Cal immdtly”

நாசமாய் போவதற்கு நான்கு வழி (Four ways to ruin yourself)

Sunday mornings are always the boring kind. You have a whole week ahead. You could freak out with your friends. You could just do the “cleaning shelf” work that has been due for, say since the time you were in school! You could search this long lost document of “great importance” that was last seen during the mughal era. Or...... you could prepare for a presentation that is due the next day, that is to say, the Monday morning!

Aha... now that’s the most important part and that’s exactly where the procrastination starts! How is so much time lost so easily?!? I mean it looks so amazing that 24 hours (okay let’s forget the 10 hours in the morning and the one hour in the night that goes off in the most blissful thing in this universe, sleeping) is gone in one pooh, just like that, like the snap of your finger! Before you get up from your bed, the morning is over and before you think of lunch it’s past lunch time! Being alone in the home, the next hour goes in cooking and lunch is over. By the time you realise that the day has progressed considerably, it’s evening and you have just a few hours to prepare for your talk. After a lot of hasty rushing, you prepare a few slides and “take a break” (no smiling here). The F.R.I.E.N.D.S. series in your DVD is too irresistible and the “break” is extended, out of proportion, obviously. Dinner time is thoroughly enjoyable with “kofee with Anu” and “Neeya Naana” (each program lasts for about an hour). Finally when the time comes to “get back to work”, you remember that you haven’t checked mail since morning! What an offense, what a sin! Gmail stares at you with Inbox(1). The only new mail is regarding “a so and so”, who has sent you request to join “a so and so social networking”. Just when you are about to sign off, you see your overseas buddy online and send a “hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” and that is that! The climax does not have any surprises. The usual one – another Sunday wasted. With this as the base, here I start a whole new scientific model on “four easy ways to go ruined”:

1. Watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S. series when you have a whole lot of work ahead

2. Watch koffee with Anu and Neeya Naana when you evidently have other better jobs to do

3. Prepare your lunch at home, when the option of buying food from hotel is very much open

4. Meet your buddy online and start chatting

Here you go! Your Sunday is gone. There is nothing amazing in it, it’s all so simple! J

I get the best - Even bad days!

Me - “I want the corner seat”

Him - “No I want it!”

Me – “You sat there yesterday. Today it is my turn!”

The teacher entered the class. I gave up! I Glared at him and grudgingly occupied the place next to him.

Me – “You are encroaching into my area”

We had drawn a thick line with chalk to divide the area between us. Strictly business! The partition line we had drawn on the “sitting table” had got partly rubbed off and there was a clear chalk piece line on his blue school uniform.

“Okay” he said and moved his butt a few inches

I still envied him, sitting in the corner seat, a seat that was rightfully mine that day and I couldn’t accept defeat simply. The social science teacher continued with her boring class. I pushed his pen down the table and pretended like I did not know how a pen looked like! But he knew how his pen fell down and he was someone who would not accept defeat easily either. He glared at me. I gave an innocent look and started sleeping in the class as usual. After the teacher left the room, he took my pen and threw it down. Now that was situation there! I reached out to the nearest property that was his and threw it down. A book was lying on the floor. He did the same. I saw my pencil box in the air. As a looked at my items (a piece of rubber, one pen with a broken nib, one tiny pencil, one BMW car photo, one shakthiman photo stuck to the inside of the box cover, a roadside pebble that I thought had a unique shape), anger started boiling inside me. I took his pencil box and threw it against the wall. It an impressive move as his things went flying in all directions. A few minute of verbal abuse followed this incident and very easily we had to arrive at a concurrence. If I was the bright one with the sympathy of all the teachers, he was the tough and smart one who knew what should be done and what should not be. We parted with dignity-outwardly. After a lot of contemplation, I took back my contents from the floor. He did the same I guess! He changed his place the very next day. Fortunately, after two months he got shifted to another section! I decided I should never see him.

10 years later..

“Mom! No mood to go to office.”

“So you are taking leave? Can’t you tell this yesterday? I wouldn’t have got up early to prepare your lunch”

“I am going! I cant afford to take leave. I’ll go in bus”

“What kind of a shirt is this? You look like you’ve been unemployed”

“I told you no mood! Can’t search for a better clothing!”

“Atleast comb your hair”

“Mom, forget it, please”

With mom’s love in the lunch box as three boxes of lunch and snacks and an old shirt and unkempt hair, I started to my office that fine morning. I knew I looked like the typical unemployed graduate.

As I was standing on the bus stop I saw a very attractive bike. It was a Yamaha Fazer, a rich blue, with the words “Yes, I’ve got an attitude!” at the rear. I got my bus and it was very crowded as usual. I could not get into it and contented myself by standing on the second foot-board. At the next stop I did the typical “erangi erardhu”. Here again, I saw the blue fazer. He was trying to overtake the bus from left and had to stop as passengers started getting down. As I looked up to see who was riding the bike, I saw someone in a smart t-shirt and nice jeans. He gave me a very strange, curious look and hearing the “double right” I hastily got into the bus. The bus had almost started moving. The fazer man somehow looked very familiar to me. Only when I was nearing the office did I realise who it was! Yes, he was same person who had thrown my pencil box down 10 years ago.

What a bad way to encounter someone whom you had decided never again to see in your life. For a moment I imagined myself running behind him trying to prove that my present situation was not as bad as he had seen me in! I was living a decent life and was studying to get a degree that would be the highest for an academician! That day was just a wrong sample. By the end of the day, my mind had imbibed the incident.

At such a helpless situation, I cheered myself up saying that thing which losers, criminals, those with a vain-attitude would often say.

“What I am going to prove to him. I don’t care a damn about what the world would say! It’s only my attitude about me that counts”

Ennathha senju tholaikkai?!?(What else can one do?!?)

Conversation between a dad and his son

Son is combing his hair, getting ready to office

Dad – “Hey, is that a new shirt you are wearing?”

Son looks up from the mirror saying “Oh ya dad, wanted to show. This is the one my friends gave for my birthday!”

Dad (in an almost alarmed tone) – That shirt has a lot of wrinkles. Is that a new one? How much did it cost?

Son (with a smile) – No dad, It is supposed to be a wrinkled shirt. That reminds me. (shouts to the kitchen) Mom, remember you are not giving this shirt to dhobi for ironing.

No, acknowledgement. That was quite expected. She hardly knows what shirt the son is wearing. Plus, she is busy packing lunch. (This shirt is going for ironing in a week and all the costly wrinkles are going to vanish, pucca!)

Dad – How much was the cost?

Son- I thought I can pass that question! Anyways dad, I don’t know. There was no price tag. Can be easily 900 rupees.

Dad – So much for a damaged piece?!?

Son – Dad. Come on! It is not damaged. It has been done scientifically.

Dad – Anyways, what’s the.. (Stops sentence halfway. Looks at son’s jeans) What are those stains near the thigh and knee on your jeans.

Son – Oh.. They are folds dad! You know when I sit or walk, these are the places where the pant would fold and wrinkle automatically, to accommodate the movement of the legs. Those folds have been emphasized with these horizontal darker shades there

Dad (really confused expression) – So what is the point? Anyway those places are gonna get wrinkled when you walk.. and why are you wearing these jeans so low? Are you sure it won’t fall off? I don’t want my friends to see you half-naked on the streets.

Mom (joins in) – your lunch is ready son. And yes dear, I’ve seen guys wearing these stuffs! And sometimes it is so low that……………………. is visible

Son – Mom, pls. I’ve tucked in my shirt. I am safe. I mean… I am fine…. and comfortable…. and nothing… will happen to!

Mom and dad have a hearty laugh seeing their son’s embarrassment.

Dad – And how much did this cost? With special charges for the scientific wrinkles and the low waist? Technically, I think you can achieve this by buying the next sized jeans and physically wrinkling it. How does this idea sound?

Son (searches for words to form sentences on their own) – Hmmm.. hmmm.. there are too many questions and…. Am really getting late to my office!.... hmmm we’ll continue this in the evening!

Son grabs his lunch box, pulls out his bike keys and runs away! As he pulls out his bike, at the gate, he can hear the giggles of his mom and the smile on dad’s face!

Parents are parents!

Vijay entertains kids

It seems that the sensational hero of Tamil Nadu, Actor Vijay, has earned an extra feather in his already full cap. The all-entertaining hero is well known for his gimmicks and cheerful presence in the screen. But he reached new heights in his career when he entertained a six and a half month old infant.

Siddhart is a resident of Madipakkam, a haven of a suburb in south Chennai. On Sunday when he was spending a lighter moment with his six and a half month old infant nephew, he realised what a mass entertained actor vijay is. Siddhart reported that he was watching the music release of vijay’s upcoming blockbuster “Sura” when the incident happened.

His nephew started crying suddenly when Siddhart was playing with him (Siddhart clearly denies any correlation between his playing with baby and its crying; the two incidents are coincidental). Every member in the home tried every possible thing that would cheer up the baby, but nothing helped. There was a constant uncomfortable moan from the baby. Obviously with the baby crying, no one paid attention to the blaring TV. Then the miracle happened! Sura’s music release function started and there he was, on the television, with all his limbs in air, a kerchief tied around his forehead, with his hair as shining as a grey painted coconut husk, with the glamorous smile on his face, he was showing a stunning display of his “action" performance. The whole trailer played and like magic, the crying child grew increasingly silent and by the end of the trailer, he actually started laughing! When he told “I’ll not be any ordinary man when I join you folks”, the child actually choked in laughter. Kudos to Vijay! We immediately logged on to youtube and got the video. The whole day, without its usual un-cooperation to eat and sleep, the child obliged to crawl, eat, drink and sleep very happily. The family grew very happy for Vijay and his powerful entertainment.

“we won’t accept anyone as the hero; he is the one for us!” says Siddhart, a happy man now.

Reports of Vijay entertaining the household have been happening in the past; but things like this have never been heard of before.

When asked about this to Vijay himself, he says “Ya! That comes with being a star. I have a formula and a target audience when I make a film. A good actor needs to understand the psychology of his fans and give what is expected of him. I think I full filled that; and this day will be an unforgettable one in my life. It’s a nice and happy feeling to know that I’ve entertained a child which cannot even understand language!”

“DEY.. WHO IS THAT INTERRUPTING... CAN’T YOU HEAR THAT I AM TALKING..” he yells at someone. Our reporter knows better than to stay there any longer.

Hats off to your selfless contributions to the society! May you grow more famous with a long life and more mind-blowing performances!

Yaarenna Sonnalum

Here is a song that I happened to hear in the recent past and fell in love with lyrics! Hope my translation is okay. I’ve given the crux for some of the lines; I could not understand some of the words in those lines! Help/improvements are most welcome!

யார் என்ன சொன்னாலும் அஞ்சாதே நஞ்சமே

அய்யன் கருணையை பாடு

இராக ஆலாபன்முடனும் பாடு-முடிந்தால்

அடவோடும் ஜதியோடும் ஆடு

அருமையென வந்த பிறவிகளோ-பல

ஆயிரம் தந்தாலும் வருமோ ஆதலின்

(யார் என்ன)

நாரத நாதமும் வேதமும் நாண்

ஞான குழல் ஒன்று ஊதுவன்

நீரதர் கழல் ஆட கோபியரும் பாட

வெகு நேர் நேர் என சொல்லி தான் ஆடுவான்

அந்த அய்யன் கருணையை பாடு

தோலை அறிந்து கனி தூர எறிந்து வெறும்

தோலை துணிந்து ஒருவன் தந்தான் அல்லவோ?

மேலை பிடி அவலை வேணுமென்றே தெரிந்து

விரும்பி ஒருவன் அன்று தந்தான் அல்லவோ?

காலமெல்லாம் தவம் இருந்து கனிந்த கனி

கடித்து சுவைத்து ஒருவள் தந்தாள் அல்லவோ?- இந்த

ஞாலமும் ஆயிரம் சொன்னாலும் நாம் அதை

'நமக்கெதற்கு' என்று சொல்லி நாமமும் ஆயிரம்

சொல்லி சொல்லி அய்யன் கருணையை பாடு

Whatever the world around says,

Fear not my heart, you sing the praise of my lord!

Make it into a song and croon it with raga and an orchestra!

If you can, even dance to the beats of the tune!

The rarest of the births, the lovely human form you have taken,

What shall you be in his further creations, you don’t know – hence

(Whatever the world around says)

To the embarrassment of Narada’s veena and to that of the Vedas,

An enchanting melody would escape his divine flute

As he follows the gopikas' song with the beats of his anklets,

He admires the dance and joins the celebration with them

(Such is the Krishna’s praise that you will sing)

There was this man who presented you with the rind of a fruit, casting the fruit away

Even after he laboriously peeled the fruit off its rind!

And there was this friend of yours who allegedly, but

Lovingly offered you with just a fistful of simple pressed rice

And there was this ripe, old woman, who had been chanting your name all her life,

Offered you only the berries that tasted ripe to her aged lips and teeth!

When such praise my lord has, who would heed to what the world says?

Even if the world annoys you in a thousand ways let’s not just say “I don’t care”,

But chant his name in a thousand other ways and sing his praise into eternity!

Footnotes:

The first two lines refer to a story from “The Mahabharatha”. Once Lord Krishna visits Vidhuran, the (only, probably!) wise Minister of Dritharashtra’s court. Vidhuran ceremoniously welcomes Krishna with the vagaries of a minister’s reception. Vidhuran himself takes care of the lord and offers fruits to Krishna which the lord happily accepts. Vidhuran, lost in his admiration for Krishna, peels the rind of the banana, throws away the fruit and offers the rind to the lord. The smiling Krishna takes the rind without a word. Accepting the rind, the lord also accepts Vidhuran’s Bakthi. Vidhura realises his mistake and apologises for which the lord simply says “your fruits are not as sweet as their peels, Vidhura! I enjoyed the rind more”

The next two lines refer to the story of Kuselan. This childhood friend of Krishna in his low times, decides to visit the lord, seeking financial help. But Kuselan, poverty stricken, has nothing to carry as gift and is reluctant to go empty-handed. He manages to get just a fistful of puffed and pressed rice (aval). With a lot of apprehension he visits Krishna and is delighted to see Krishna leading a successful life in a palace. Krishna still remembers his childhood buddy and gives him a king’s reception. Krishna asks for a gift playfully and Kuselan gives all that he has brought. Krishna accepts this simple token of love and relishes the offering like a heavenly meal.

The next story is about Sabari, an old woman who appears in “The Ramayana”. Lord Rama during his exile in the Dandakaranya forest visits this old woman, Sabari. Delighted at her luck that brought the lord himself to this simple woman’s abode, Sabari who had been chanting the lord’s name and waiting for his arrival to this place, gets fresh berries for the lord to eat. Consumed by her devotion, she bites every berry to check if it is ripe and sweet and offers only the best ones to Rama. In her love, she does not even realise that she is offering half-bitten berries to the lord. Rama, is not offended by this action of Sabari and relaxes under her innocent care.

Being alone – Rameshwaram

This happened when I was posted in the Rameshwaram branch of my office for a month

Then one day, I found this unused washing machine in the bathroom. Srikanth, who had stayed before me in that room, had warned me about how “shaky” the machine was. For the first few days it did not catch my attention. Then one day I came back home after my evening stroll and found that I had to wash a week’s worth of clothes. That included every little thing from my handkerchief to my most formal trousers. For a second, I thought about the “Brut” perfume I saw in one of the shops in the main bazaar. Then shook the thought off my head and took up the task. After all I would never get the chance of staying alone and washing my clothes in future (at least till I get married; in that case it wouldn’t be “just” my clothes I would need to wash). So I found this shiny unused washing machine and thought I can experiment with it. But this extra bright thought stuck - What if my clothes get stuck or worse get torn in this not-so-trustworthy washing machine? Wicked! I pulled out the curtain fluttering from the window. Some where from the depths of my mind the righteous Sid asked me if it was okay to experiment with someone else’s property. After all, all is fair and love and who said only war. So, there I was facing my washing machine. I didn’t understand head or tail of the thing I had in front of me. But painfully it was the same model as I found in my own home. If only I had been around when they used this gadget back home! For a moment, I thought of calling home. Then I got reminded of the girl with the sweet voice who would say “You do not have sufficient bal……” (Please take the honours of completing the line) if I try to call anyone from my mobile. I went around the room searching for some sort of manual that could have possibly accompanied the machine. Damn! The room was very clean. Not a litter in any corner. I put the guinea-cloth in the tub and I looked around for an “on” button. There were only two operable buttons. One “auto-on/off” and the other with a symbol of “play/pause” (Excuse me I thought I thought I was dealing with a washing machine. Not a DVD player). I found a pipe running between the water tap and the rear of the washing machine. “So” I thought “I should just put in the clothes and press the (only) two buttons and walk away”. I did what I thought. After what seemed like half an hour (Did I hear a buzzer? Am I supposed to have heard? I didn’t know). I went in to see if everything was okay and found the bathroom flooded. I half expected “moaning myrtle” to pop out of a corner saying “I was expecting you’ll come and see your clothes. He he he!”. But nothing happened. Mission successful. I took out the cloth and put it to dry on a table. Then I put in some of my clothes into the tub and walked back to my room. I had hardly sat on my cot when boom.. there was a power cut. I had other pressing matters in my mind now. I had my half cooked rice in my electric cooker and a whole host of things to buy for the next day (Soap, rice, washing powder). Half an hour later my room lights suddenly were lit and television started singing. In my relief I went out got my things, ate and slept.

The following evening, I suddenly realized that some of my clothes were missing and bang.. I ran to the washing machine. There the lights of the machine were off and there was no movement in it (I didn’t expect that there would be any). I peered into the tub and caught the angry look from my contorted clothes. With a sulky expression, as I looked at my stinking shirts and trousers, I could hear the smirk and laughter from the guinea curtain cloth, now neat, dry and with an unmistakably good stench (at least when compared to my clothes).

This in other words is called “Karma”. Grrrrrrrrrr

Perspectives!

One incident; neither to be blamed; but the fact remains....

He passes by the supermarket. He is reminded of something he should buy. He stops his bike. He switches off his bike. He looks back. The road is empty except for a young girl walking just behind. He assumes that she will move and pushes the vehicle a few steps back for a parking space. He turns the vehicle to face the supermarket and releases his bike stand. He finds a rock just under his bike stand and tries to move it with his shoes. It doesn’t seem to budge. He gets down, lifts the rear of his bike and places it back at a new place. Now, the ground is too low for the vehicle to stand steady. He manhandles it to a new place which happens to be just an inch away from the original place with the rock. He parks his bike comfortably. With a victorious smile of accomplishing this parking feat, he locks his bike and turns around. He finds the young girl still standing there rather close to his bike. “Why is she standing alone in this dark? Probably boyfriend”. But to his surprise she gives him a dirty look. He winces, shoots her back a dirty look and walks away. “Dunno what is running in her mind. Girls can sometimes be impossible”.

She is walking alone on the road by a supermarket. She notices a guy in a bike suddenly stopping few yards in front of her. She finds the road pretty empty except for this guy and a few vehicles passing by. Just when her thoughts are drifting away, she finds this guy looking back at the length of the road and also giving her a casual glance. He pushes his bike a few steps back and finds a parking space. Just when she is about to cross him, he virtually blocks her way and lifts his vehicle to a new place. “Wants to show off that he is a Hercules”. She tries to move again but he is still meddling with his bike stand and doesn’t seem to let her pass. “What an arrogance!”. This time she is determined to cross him and go on with her work. She sees that he has parked his bike and still, it hasn’t moved much from the original place. “What is he doing lifting the bike and keeping it at the same place? To what extent can guys go to show off!”. He successfully parks his bike and turns back. “Look at that smile at having successfully irritated a girl.” Her thoughts indexed on her face as a dirty look of contempt. But, to her surprise she sees a dirty look creeping across his face too. He walks away. She winces. “Dunno what is running in his mind. Guys can sometimes be impossible”

The fact remains that there was a guy, a rock and an uncomfortable parking area; a girl, a guy blocking her path lifting his vehicle and a look of contempt exchanged!

Descriptions

There are two ways of describing things. The first would a very ordinary way of telling things. Just put it plainly; that would be something like this:

On a sunny summer afternoon, when Arun was riding his bike, he respected the signal by stopping because he saw the traffic police and continued on his drive home when it turned green.

Now if the same scene had been taken from an award winning book, it would have been described like this probably (!):

Like any other June afternoon, Chennai was taking a sunbath. A sunbath that tans its roads a dry brown, sucking moisture from every possible corner. Even the walk from the shore to the waters of the sea in Marina beach would seem endless. Had the sea evaporated a little increasing its distance from the shore? Every skin would give out as much moisture as possible to the environment through its sweat, only to be absorbed the very next instant and leaving behind an air of body odour. In a crowded bus, such an odour would fill the area around its source. But people in a bus would not care about such petty issues. As the Chennai MTC bus charges on the roads, reaching the destination safe would be top priority and worry. It would be like civil war between two-wheelers and buses. Buses the large intimidating lions and two-wheelers, the small cunning hyenas. Arun was one such hyena. But two-wheelers had the extra privilege of being the lion and the hyena. To a cycle and careless pedestrians on the roads he was the intimidating lion. To the bigger ones like bus and lorry, he was the hyena. He had almost breached the amber in the traffic lights, like any other Chennai-ite would do. But the brake lights of the car moving in front of him glowed cheerfully, asking him to stop. He still had the chance of over-taking the car and criss-crossing his way between the first few vehicles that would start streaming into the main road from the alley way in the left, where the signal had turned green. But he thought the better of it as he saw the “mama” (traffic cop) waiting in the shades of a shop, acroos the signal, to pounce on the bike which breaks the traffic first. So, that answers the extra-cautious car’s behaviour. He manoeuvred his bike between the first row of cars to form a new row in front of the stop line. Three vehicles followed him. The fourth one foolishly got stuck between the centre median and a car and the biker blinked foolishly. He decided to stay there till the signal turned green. Meanwhile Arun had shooed a beggar twice, politely sent away the book-seller who sold India for ten rupees, Naphthalene balls and ear-buds for five rupees and the man who sold a pocket diary with all the train, bus and fight timings, your daily horoscope in one word and the all the possible route maps in bus. He stared the LEDs in the signal. It had always reminded him of cockroach’s eyes. He remembered reading/hearing/over-hearing somewhere that cockroaches don’t have eyes like humans. They had hundreds of tiny compartments that organised the light entering the eye. He imagined each LED as a compartment and the whole red signal as a single cockroach eye staring angrily at the waiting passengers. Angry that he had insulted it by crossing the STOP line, angry at the authorities for frying it the humid sun, angry about the boring life it had to lead on the roads. “It’s not my fault” he thought and continued to wait for the signal. The timer had come down to 10 seconds now. He had already noticed a few vehicle roaring into life, two short honks from two different vehicles from behind (The honks meant “You, on the first line, hope you’ve seen the timer reaching ten seconds”) and the roadside sellers going back into hiding, cursing those who had failed to patronage them. The timer had reached five seconds by now. He loved this moment. Most of the engines had started and the bikes and cars behind him had become restless. He hadn’t started his bike yet. 3...., 2....., 1..... and the signal turned green. In a moment he button-started his bike, raced past the last signal-breaker vehicle from the right alley way where the signal had already turned red, crossed the traffic-police would could do nothing but shout a “hey you”. The next moment, he was way ahead of the honkers who had nagged him in the signal!

My bothered sleep

4.10 AM

I finish reading one of those much hyped up books – The White Tiger. I had finished the book in one go starting at around 8.00 PM. Advantages of being a boy in the home! My sister couldn’t have done that. Now the fact that I finished the book in one go doesn’t mean that the book was exceptionally interesting. The last book that had finished in one go was Harry potter and The Half Blood Prince. But what a shame to compare the White Tiger with Harry Potter! I finished the White Tiger because I knew that once I put it down, I would never feel like reading it again. It takes a lot of courage to sit in a lecture, which you know would never catch your interest. The White Tiger was one such lecture. At 4 in the morning, I did not have anyone to share my frustration with. Cursing the Booker prize committee, I went down to sleep. A neat, peaceful sleep on a January morning is really a solace! I imagined waking up at 9. Only five hours of sleep. But it’s okay.. it was a cold January morning. So sleep would be a paradise! Good night Chennai!

(Snore…)

6.10 AM

The alarm in my mobile religiously blares at its usual time. My dear alarm.. I am on leave today, so pls sleep with me...

(Snore….)

7.20 AM

Mobile rings. Friend is calling. It’s only 7.20 in the morning. This must be wee hours in your standards. What are you doing calling me at this time? I’ll get back to you dude. (Mobile silenced)

(Snore…)

7.50 AM

Rosa poo chinna rosa poo instrumental. This time it is the roadside musician. He continues for 5 minutes. The sound dies off slowly. He must have got his earnings from my home, my neighbour and from the home opposite to ours.

(Snn.. Snnoo.. Snnoooorr.. Snore snore. Pls snore; At last lids are heavy)

8.10 AM

Phone rings. Who kept the cordless in the bed? “Hello..” Some long lost uncle catches up with me. “Yes uncle I am fine.. dad is here.. I’ll give..” “Dad.. call for you..”

8.30 AM

Dad wakes me up. “I am going out. Lock the door from inside and sleep.”

Wow! What kind of dad asks his son to continue sleeping at 8.30 in morning.

8.35 AM

No snore. I am not feeling even least of a bit sleepy. I’ve given up. It is “Good morning” now. My day has begun.

When it is decided that you shouldn’t have a good night’s sleep, the whole world co-operates with the decision. But I am determined to get the sleep I had lost. This would be crazy challenge. But only those who don’t sleep properly know the importance of it. Today afternoon.. or tonight.. or this weekend.. A time would come when no one would have the power to disturb my sleep. I’ll wait patiently for the time. Till then, let the world conspire!